#i made a big ass pot of food which should last for a week

[hi-im-otter]

im sooooo tired gn everyone =_=

(kinda vent in the tags feel free to ignore!)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 136: Long Drive

Sorry friends. The second half of my week last week was really difficult and I went away for the weekend to recharge. Without further ado, here's the next ficlet. Thanks for your patience <3

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Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.

But mostly he loved road trips.

He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.

"Alright, buddy," he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, "You hang out in the back, yeah?" he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. "Go on," he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.

Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.

He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.

The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.

His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he'd gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. "Malfoy?" he spluttered.

(Read more below the cut)

But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, "Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!" the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. "You'll be paying for that!"

"Yes, sir!" Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.

"Well don't mess around with that now!" he shouted. "You've got a customer, you worthless piece of-" his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.

"Malfoy?" he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. "How on earth did you find me?" he asked.

"You found me, Potter," he snapped. "Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?"

"You actually work here?" Harry asked in befuddlement.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, "Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn't be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?" he repeated.

"Umm," he said, glancing down at the menu, "I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast," he said. "And also grape jelly, if you have it."

"Got it," Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. "Coming right up."

He spun on his heel and strutted off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.

Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry's cup and sliding it over to him.

"Thanks," Harry said, reaching for the sugar. "What are you-"

"Look," Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, "Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter."

Harry blinked and by the time he'd unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.

It wasn't long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry's plate of breakfast. "Here you go," he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. "Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?"

"Uhh," Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, "Sure."

Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.

"When do you get off work?" Harry found himself asking.

The other man's brow furrowed, "Why?"

He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, "Thought it might be nice to catch up."

"To catch up?" Malfoy repeated. "Is that code for-"

"Hear about your life," Harry supplied.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I'll give you fifteen minutes."

"Done," Harry replied easily. "So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?"

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

After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He'd worked hard to train him the first few months after he'd found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.

He wasn't, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn't seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn't let other people bully them out.

Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.

Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.

"Hey," Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.

Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, "Hey?" he asked. "Is that really what you have to say to me?" He shook his head, "Just get it over with Potter," he said. "If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries."

"I don't want to gloat," Harry protested.

"What do you want, then?" he asked scathingly.

And that was the question, wasn't it? What did Harry want? "Why are you working here?" he asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, "It's amazing where you end up when you're a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored," he replied. "Then add to that the fact that it didn't seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I'd lose whatever job I'd been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself," he said with a little mock bow. "I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here," Harry said quickly.

"Right," he huffed sarcastically.

"I'm not," he argued, "Because if I told them where you are, they'd know where I've been."

"You're running away too?" Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.

"Obviously," Harry replied. "Come on," he said after a moment. "Your feet must be killing you. I'm sure that arsehole doesn't give you breaks," he added as he opened the hatch.

"You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?"

He rolled his eyes, "I know you think I'm an idiot," he said, "But I'm less of one than you think. Just," he crawled in and stood up, "come on."

After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy's lap.

"Max-" he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.

"Oh, hello you sweet baby," he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, "hello. Aren't you a lovie?" he asked. "Yes you are. You're a giant lovie," he said.

And in that moment, Harry's mind was made up. "Have you ever gone on a road trip?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, "What?" he asked.

"Have you ever gone on a road trip?" Harry repeated.

"What is that?"

"Like a really long drive," he said. "Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to." He scratched the back of his neck, "Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods."

"That sounds nice for the two of you," Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.

"Come with us," Harry said.

The other man blinked. "Sorry?"

"Just," he shrugged, "What else do you have here?"

"A job-"

"That you hate."

"A flat-"

"That is probably smaller than this," he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.

"What happens when you get sick of me?"

He shook his head, "Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I'll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?"

"Why?"

He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry's mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. "Why not?" he settled on.

Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. "Fine, but you're going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff."

"Done," Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.

Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.

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

Day 135: Off-Guard | Day 137: Symmetry

[itrytowrite-things]

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader 

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy) 

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out. 

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help? 

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now. 

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago. 

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast. 

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass. 

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device. 

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink. 

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy. 

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me. 

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately. 

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula? 

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek. 

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said,  rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.” 

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background. 

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face. 

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face. 

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls. 

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me. 

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips. 

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven. 

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him. 

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly. 

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.” 

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back. 

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle. 

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food. 

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here. 

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?” 

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?” 

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday. 

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils. 

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever. 

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 2)

platonic! fukuzawa yukichi x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !! 

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: part 1: meeting the greatest detective

author’s note: ages are a year younger than canon so ranpo is 25, yosano 24, kunikida & dazai 21, fukuzawa 44, you’re 19, and atsushi and the other younger members are not employed yet

and i guess slight spoilers for the untold origins of the armed detective agency but not really. it’s just a reference to it tbh

their beloved president

going to Sakura’s the next morning wasn’t what Fukuzawa had planned during his week

the reason he was dropping by was to give you money for the sweets you had given ranpo

when he had arrived back at the agency the evening before, he had made a big fuss about you and Sakura’s

he had sparked a lot of people’s interest seeing as ranpo was well invested in whoever you were and what your business was

he wouldn’t stop talking about the “cute and annoying bakery girl” who practically saved the agency simply bc she sheltered him during the rain and fed him and almost got hit by a car for him

i mean, how would the agency survive without ranpo? it was founded to make use of his intelligence and ability after all

the other agency employees exchanged looks and that’s when ranpo tiredly sighed and showed them his phone

on the screen was a contact, yours to be exact, labeled “cute bakery girl” with the note underneath reading “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

around that time, the president had stepped out of his office to see his employees huddling around ranpo and his phone

he walked over to them and asked what was going on, and seeing the president, ranpo explained what had happened with more details

“so you’re saying that a young girl, 19 years old, nearly got herself run over to shelter you from the rain, gave you food, closed her business early so you could keep talking, and when the rain stopped, she gave you a map and even more food, and even though she may have been inconvenienced, she did not ask for anything back? nor did you offer to give her anything back? even though she relies from the money she earns to survive?

“...maybe.”

after a, private chat with ranpo, fukuzawa ended up saying that he’d go take a visit to Sakura’s first thing in the morning to pay off the sweets that she’d given him by sliding an envelope of money under the door with a note

he initially told ranpo to go back right away (and to bring someone with him this time) but that ended up not pulling through bc ranpo had told him you went to retire for the evening

so yeah

there he was walking towards your bakery when he saw a small black cat with green eyes near the entrance playing with one of the potted plants outside

even though it was small, fukuzawa could tell that it wasn’t kitten due to his love of cats but the cat was still small compared to other adult cats

when he was just a couple feet away from the entrance to your bakery, the black cat took notice of him and walked his way before rubbing itself against his leg

fukuzawa let out a small smile as he bent down to pet the small creature, and the cat gladly ate up all the attention

suddenly the entrance to Sakura’s bursts open, and there you are looking back and forth frantically 

but you soon spot him and the cat and you visibly calm down

the black cat rushed to you and rubbed itself against your leg

it turns out the cat was yours, and you couldn’t find him so you panicked and rushed out the door

from there, you introduced yourself with fukuzawa doing the same

you still had about a little more than forty five minutes til Sakura’s was scheduled to open but you offered fukuzawa to come in anyways

he declined at first, but he gave in when, just how you did with ranpo the day before, you dragged him into your bakery

“you know, fukuzawa-san, this is giving me some major deja vu!”

“it’s because of ranpo i presume.”

“oh! you know ranpo-san?”

when the two of you entered, you rushed to a table and pulled out a seat for him before you disappeared off into the kitchen

just a few minutes later, you appeared with a tray with two steaming mugs, two hot plates of food, and small basket of bread

you set one mug in front of fukuzawa as well as a plate of food while you set the other mug and plate in front of the seat across from him and the basket of bread near the center by the small vase of flowers that you had for a center piece

he gave you a confused look as you sat in front of him and as your cat leaped into your lap

“ah! it’s pretty early in the morning, and you still have to go to work later, so i thought you should at least have a little something before you go. and i didn’t have breakfast yet so i thought it would be nice to have some tea with some company. and i made extras anyways!”

fukuzawa blinked before letting out a small smile and he quietly thanks you

you beam at him and as the both of you begin to eat, you ask him why he’s here this early and how he knows ranpo

with that, the silver haired man addresses your questions and explains the reason why he’s here and how he knows the brown clad male 

after explaining, fukuzawa pulls out the envelope with some money and slides it over to you

you try to reject it, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re screaming bc you know you need the money for bills and whatnot

fukuzawa wasn’t very helpful either

“so you’re saying you don’t need the money?”

“...no”

you end up accepting the money much to your inner conscience’s chagrin and to fukuzawa’s inner delight

moving on from that, for the rest of the time he was there—the last 40ish minutes or so—you rambled and talked to fukuzawa like how you did with ranpo the day prior, only this time, with a cat switching his resting point for either yours or fukuzawa’s lap

honestly, you’ve gone through so much deja vu and at this point, you’re not sure if you’re still in reality or not

sometime in your conversation, fukuzawa learned that your cat, ironically, was named lucky

apparently you found him in an alley while you were grocery shopping two weeks ago and since you took him in, you noticed that Sakura’s received a lot of new customers and that a lot of them actually ended up becoming regulars

speaking of the cat, you kept having to stop lucky from eating the food on the table

if fukuzawa was amused from your antics along with lucky’s, he was pretty good at hiding it

you: “lucky you naughty cat! i already told youuu” >:(

lucky: >:3

fukuzawa internally: :) & :D

the two of you had also became well engaged in talking about different kinds of tea, with fukuzawa even complimenting you with the tea you had made for him

it became his favorite <33

you were so happy <3

oop there’s that kid-like behavior again🤭

don’t tell ranpo🤫

scratch that he probably already knows somehow </3

speaking of which, the two of you also talked about the childish detective

it was kind of hard to tell whether or not you were admiring him <3 or insulting and complaining </3 about him lol

“so you’re the president ranpo-san was talking about huh. we talked a lot about his job yesterday! it seems quite exciting! but he talks quite a lot honestly.”

“ranpo talked a lot about you as well”

“ah really?! he can be a bit of an ass, but he really is amazing isn’t he?”

“mhmm”

through fukuzawa, you also learned how the two had first met, and this time, it was hard to tell whether you were amazed or angry at him

“awh that’s so cool!! but for someone so smart, he’s an idiot! what if he got hurt?! it was a good thing you got there huh fukuzawa-san?”

if you thought ranpo was like an older brother figure, you definitely saw fukuzawa as some sort of father figure

he noticed that you started to act like ranpo a little bit

you had developed some sort of attachment to him and when he praised you abt your tea, you had the same glow ranpo has when he gives him praise

not that fukuzawa minds

you’re just another child he’s adopting !! <33

not that either of you knew that hehe >:D

time went by pretty fast and before you knew it, there was only 10 minutes until you were scheduled to open

it was a good thing you had just finished all your prep before fukuzawa arrived

after making a promise with fukuzawa for him to come back again for some more tea, he stood up and made his way to the door as you carefully lifted lucky from your lap so you could quickly wash the dishes and to wipe the table and chairs you used

you offered some baked goods and some tea for to go but fukuzawa declined saying that you needed your supplies for your customers

as soon as you placed lucky on the wooden surface, he bolted to fukuzawa and kept on circling his legs and rubbing against him to stop him from leaving

i guess it turns out you weren’t the only one to get attached to fukuzawa

he couldn’t get even one step closer to the door without lucky reacting and running rapid circles around his legs to get him to stop moving

you didn’t know what to do and you were starting to freak out bc it was almost time to open up, but fukuzawa saved the day and offered to take lucky back with him and promised to take him back the next day

at first, like how you did with the money, you declined but ended up giving in when you saw quite a few of your morning regulars walking down the sidewalk towards Sakura’s for its opening

fukuzawa simply picked up the cat and walked out the door giving you one last wave of good bye

when they left, there was only about 5 minutes left and you rushed to finish the last minute clean up

when fukuzawa arrived at the agency (after a quick stop at home) with a cat in his grasp, let’s just say that quite a few more questions were raised

when asked about the cat, he simply answered that he was cat-sitting for a friend and ranpo knowingly smiled

but he then realized that fukuzawa arrived without any of your signature baked goods and he started complain as the rest of the agency members stared in confusion

with ranpo’s visit, they had quite a few questions, but with fukuzawa’s visit to Sakura’s, their confusion only grew a whole lot more and will continue to keep growing

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[lardguz]

All You Can Eat Bluff-et

WHEW. This took me a lot longer to write than I anticipated because I got kind of stuck near the end (just like a certain fatass lawyer in this one, hehe) but YEAH. Wow! Hope you guys like gay lawyer feeder/feedee relationships! 

Phoenix Wright sat on the couch in his office, formerly known as the Weight & Co. Law Offices, blankly staring at the TV screen in front of him. It had been two weeks since he was found presenting forged evidence to the court and subsequently stripped of his attorney’s badge and defense attorney title. Since then he’d not really had much to do, not being used to being unemployed for the first time in years. He had cleaned the office from top to bottom multiple times in the first few days following his sudden dismissal, trying to keep his mind off the creeping existential dread. His friends had stopped by frequently to check on him when they heard the news, and he put on a reassuring smile to them all, but now? The apathy was beginning to set in. Phoenix sat there, wearing just a dress shirt, an undone tie, and some slacks, watching the news talking yet again about his disbarment, with his hand rummaging absentmindedly around in a bowl of potato chips. He kept bringing handfuls of the crunchy snacks up to his mouth, loudly chewing on them without realizing how much he was eating.

  Phoenix had been eating like this for as long as he could remember, but without constant cases keeping him on the move, and all the time in the world to just sit on the couch and mindlessly watch TV, his snacking habits were starting to show on his body. His middle was starting to protrude just the tiniest bit, slightly straining the button nearest his tummy on his dress shirt. As his fingers scraped the bottom of the bowl with nothing left to eat in it, Phoenix got up off the couch and turned off the TV. At that precise moment, he heard the familiar Steel Samurai ringtone that his former assistant, Maya, had begged him to put on his cell phone echoing from across the office. Trotting over to his messy desk, he picked up the phone. “Wright and Co. Law Offi—er, wait. No. Hey, this is Phoenix Wright speaking?”

 “Wright, I’m outside your office door,” spoke a familiar voice with a slight British accent to it, “Open up. How long have you been hiding away in there, anyways?”

Phoenix audibly sighed. “Just a couple of days, Miles. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right over.” He hung up and made his way over to the office door, hastily running his hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t a mess.

 There outside his door stood Miles Edgeworth, the famed prosecutor, long-time rival to Phoenix Wright, and his boyfriend. The silver-haired man had bags in each hand which seemed to be very heavy. Phoenix leaned in to kiss his partner and then welcomed him into his office. Edgeworth looked around at the shabby state of the room, empty snack bags littering the floor, and huffed in mild disgust. “Really, Wright, you live like this? Have you eaten nothing but garbage junk food at all the past week?”

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, you know, I was always more of an art guy in college than a cooking guy? Ehehehe…”

Miles groaned and dropped the heavy bags onto the couch, sitting down next to them. “Well, it is a good thing I brought you some real food then, Wright. Here, come sit next to me. I’ll show you what I’ve brought.” The well-dressed prosecutor patted the cushion beside him gently. Phoenix lowered himself down next to his boyfriend slowly and looked into his cool gray eyes curiously. Edgeworth opened one of the bags and pulled out a few plastic containers of some sort of soup. “This is homemade potato and leek soup, with lots of heavy cream. Very nourishing. It’s still warm, I made it just before I left to come over here. And this,” he said as he opened the other bag, revealing a single much larger container, “is a devil’s food cake. I also made this myself, but I baked it last night. The frosting is also homemade.”

Edgeworth popped the lid off of one of the containers of soup and, pulling a spoon out of the bag, dipped it into the bowl and lifted it to Phoenix’s mouth. Phoenix leaned back a little in confusion, stammering. “I-I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, Miles! You don’t have to—”

He was cut off abruptly as the spoon was inserted into his open mouth. The soup, with beautiful, bright flavors and creamy deliciousness, practically melted in his mouth. His cheeks flushed crimson as his eyes met his boyfriend’s, who lifted a finger to his own lips in a shushing gesture. “You have done so much for me, Wright. Now it’s my turn to take care of you. Understand?” Phoenix nodded quickly, still a little dazed, and Miles removed the spoon, refilling it from the bowl and bringing it to his lips again. This went on and on, as Miles emptied one container of soup and moved onto the other two, until there was no more left to feed to his lonely boyfriend. Phoenix belched softly, rubbing his distended belly, which strained against the buttons of his shirt even more now that he’d eaten essentially a whole pot of soup by himself. Miles rubbed his swollen tummy sympathetically before leaning over to whisper in his ear. “I hope you still have room in there, Wright, because you still have to eat dessert…”

Removing the rich chocolate cake from its container, Edgeworth cut off a large piece and held it to his boyfriend’s lips, encouraging Phoenix to take a big bite of the delicious confection. He opened his mouth wide and took a much larger bite than Miles had anticipated, taking about a quarter of the slice in one gulp. The two men continued in this manner, the prim and proper prosecutor delicately feeding slices of the moist chocolate cake to his now very stuffed boyfriend until no more cake remained. Phoenix undid the buttons on his shirt to allow his strained gut some relief, the orb of flesh firm and hard to the touch. Edgeworth gave his boyfriend some gentle belly rubs to try and ease his aching tummy before leaving for the night, promising to be back again tomorrow with more proper food to keep the unemployed former lawyer well-fed.

  A year had passed since the fateful trial that had left the legendary Phoenix Wright unemployed, and not many people had seen much of the former lawyer since. Only his closest friends, and the occasional food delivery person, had been in contact with Mr. Wright since his disbarment. The one-time master of courtroom bluffs was sitting on the couch in his former office as he did every day now, a small stack of takeout boxes stacked on the coffee table in front of him. Anyone who knew Phoenix Wright in his lawyer days would hardly recognize the man on the couch as that legendary defense attorney now. Phoenix was wearing a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, having long since outgrown his old tailored suits from when he still practiced law. The loose, stretchy clothing he preferred to wear at present didn’t leave much to the imagination despite not being form-fitting yet. Phoenix’s chest, once a decently defined pair of pecs, had blossomed into a pudgy pair of moobs that even his XXL hoodie couldn’t hide, and his growing gut sat comfortably in his lap, the bottom of his softening tummy rolls peeking out from the bottom of his hoodie whenever he stretched or moved his arms. Speaking of which, Phoenix’s arms were also noticeably jiggly with fat, with rolls that bunched up at his shoulders whenever he reached upwards. He also had a nice, plush pair of love handles that oozed into a muffintop over the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, which his boyfriend Miles Edgeworth had taken quite a fancy to grabbing ahold of whenever they kissed. None of his weight gain on his upper half even held a candle to how his lower half looked, though. Living such a sedentary life for the past year since his disbarment had sent quite a bit of fat to his thighs and rear end. Phoenix’s ass cheeks were enormous, giving him a beautiful pear shape whether he sat his fat ass on the couch or stood up to waddle to the door to get food delivery. Each round cheek was roughly the side of a pillow, and just as soft. His thighs were also thickening at an astounding rate, each one roughly wide enough to get him stuck in some smaller chairs. When he’d weighed himself earlier that week, Phoenix saw that he’d surpassed 350 pounds. If he had still been a lawyer, that number would have stunned and horrified him, but now? He didn’t really mind at all.

 The tubby former lawyer scratched at the stubble on his double chin, leaning forward to grab one of his takeout containers stacked in front of him, when the doorbell rang. Phoenix lowered his arm and instead hoisted himself off the couch, his chubby stomach wobbling underneath his sweatshirt as he did so. He walked over to the door to the office,  his meaty thighs rubbing against each other uncomfortably as he did so. God, I’m probably going to have to start taking bigger steps when I walk soon, Phoenix thought to himself as he reached the door. He peered through the peep hole, expecting to see Maya or Edgeworth or someone more familiar, but instead he saw a face he never thought he’d see again. Or, rather, the lower half of a face, since the upper half was covered by a very familiar visor. Phoenix hastily opened the door and stepped outside to confront the visitor.

“Godot?!” he shouted, “How did you get here? Aren’t you supposed to be—”

“In prison?” the white-haired man laughed. “Yeah, well, as it turns out, murder in defense of another isn’t a death sentence. Your pretty little boyfriend got my sentence reduced for “good behavior” and “health reasons”. He also said I should stop by and say hey.” The former prosecutor glanced up and down at Phoenix’s body, chuckling dryly. “Good to see you’ve been taking real good care of yourself, Phoenix, despite everything that’s happened to you.”

Phoenix gulped, subconsciously scratching at the bottom of his overfed gut which flopped over the waistband of his sweatpants. “So, you heard about… that?” Godot nodded, and Phoenix sighed softly. “Figures. Yeah, I got played for a fool. Given forged evidence to present in court. I’m sorry for letting you down so soon after I proved to you that I was worthy to follow in Mia’s—”

“Trite!” Godot snarled. Phoenix yelped and reflexively covered his face, expecting to feel a scalding cup of coffee smack into his face upon hearing his old rival’s nickname for him. He peeked around his fingers to see the masked man rummaging around in a plastic bag that was slung over his arm. That was the first time Phoenix noticed that Godot was carrying multiple plastic bags. The older man clicked his tongue decisively and pulled out a small white box, marked with a logo like a coffee cup with three red lines going horizontally across it. He held it out to Phoenix.

“What’s in this?” Phoenix asked curiously as he reached a hand out to take the box. Godot stayed silent, so Phoenix opened the little package. Inside was a large pastry, a cream tart shaped like an attorney’s badge. Phoenix looked down at the confection, then glanced back up at Godot, a look of confusion plastered on his chubby face. The masked man’s eyes couldn’t be seen, but his mouth broke into a sly grin upon seeing the disgraced attorney’s expression. “I needed something to do after I got out of prison, so I decided why not do what I was always born to do and open a nice little coffee shop? We’ve been a massive success, and your prettyboy boyfriend told me you’d been really enjoying sweet stuff lately, so I decided I’d bring a little taste of Café Armando to your office.” He lifted his bag-laden arms to properly show off just how much he’d brought with him. “Got a little something of everything we make back there for you, Wright. Mind if I come in?”

Phoenix swallowed heavily, his mouth watering already at just the prospect of gorging himself on fresh-made pastries. He nodded shakily, unable to form words with his mouth in his dazed state. Godot shouldered past the overweight former lawyer, heading further into the office. He chuckled loudly at the stack of takeout boxes on the coffee table. “Looks like you already got plenty to eat here, Phoenix, but that’s fine, I’ll put my stuff on this side of the couch for you.”  Godot dropped the bags of baked goods onto one half of the couch, leaving Phoenix with the other half all to himself.

The portly man sat back down on the couch cushion, his lardy ass spreading out under him to take up the entire couch cushion. He made to reach for one of the plastic bags and grab a box from within, but Godot slapped his hand away. He waggled a finger in Phoenix’s face. “Ah ah ah, that’s not how we’re doing this, Wright. Your man had very specific instructions for me. So you just sit there and look pretty while I handle the hard stuff, tubby.” Godot prodded a finger into Phoenix’s chubby gut to emphasize his point before reaching into one of the bags and removing the box that contained the cream tart from earlier. The older man then swung his legs over either of Phoenix’s thick thighs and straddled his rounded gut, leaning on it lightly while pressing the cream tart to the scruffy man’s lips. Phoenix eagerly devoured the tart in just a few bites, waiting impatiently for the next confection.

The two men continued their feeding session for hours, Godot getting more and more forceful the more Phoenix ate. His fat cheeks and double chins were covered in crumbs and cream, and a few bits of pastries had fallen onto the front of his hoodie, which was now riding up heavily on his distended gut. The soft layer of fat cushioning the outside of the enormous orb was stretched far by the amount of food Godot was stuffing into his former rival. Phoenix’s mouth was constantly full, every time he finished chewing on a pastry another was prompt shoved into his tiring mouth. Godot growled taunts in a low tone the entire time, calling him a fat pig and commenting on how far gone he was after just a year of unemployment. Finally, as he reached into the last bag to grab another pastry to shove into his adversary’s mouth, Godot’s long fingers closed around empty air. Turning his gaze back towards Phoenix’s exhausted, messy face, he grunted in annoyance. “Well, I guess that’s the end of my fun for now, Wright. But before I leave, I got one last thing I need from you…” Before Phoenix could muster a response, Godot leaned heavily against his bloated gut and wrapped his arms around the stuffed man’s chubby shoulders, planting his lips against Phoenix’s cream-covered mouth. Phoenix let out a muffled noise of surprise before melting into the kiss, unable to deny his long-standing attraction for the mysterious masked Godot back from his lawyer days. The two passionately made out for another few minutes, Godot’s sharp teeth digging into Phoenix’s lower lip occasionally. Finally, they parted, and Godot stood up, slapping Phoenix’s engorged stomach as he made to leave the room. Phoenix sat there in a daze for a few moments before the inevitable food coma washed over him, lulling him into a slumber while his stuffed gut digested its feast.

 Morning light filtered through the blinds of the former Wright & Co. Law Offices’ windows, shining directly into Phoenix’s eyes and waking him up. The disgraced lawyer yawned and stretched as he leaned back on his couch, where he had fallen asleep sitting up the night before, just as he did every night these days. It was now a little over four years since the once-famous Phoenix Wright had been stripped of his attorney’s badge, and that time had not been kind to his once-slim and fit body. As he yawned, his fat cheeks caused his eyes to squish shut entirely, and his triple chin creased into a quadruple chin. His neck was buried under rolls of fat, showing no separation between chins and neck anymore. His hoodie, once slightly too big for him, was now several sizes too small, and yet he kept wearing it. The only thing it covered was his oversized moobs, which stretched the elastic fabric nearly to its limits just from their girth alone. The sleeves of said hoodie were starting to rip in places on the seams, his pillow-sized fat-coated biceps poking through the little tears in diamond-shaped bubbles that widened as he stretched his arms above his head. Phoenix’s stomach, while nowhere near his biggest asset, was still impressively large, completely visible due to his hoodie not even coming close to covering it now. His gut split into two distinct rolls that were separated by the fold where the upper roll collapsed over his belly button. The lower roll pooled in his lap like a liquid, settling between his overstuffed thighs while also overflowing over the outer edges of them, and flopping over the edges of his knees slightly. His love handles had also become a multi-layered deal, each one soft and squishy and overflowing out of his strained waistband like an overcooked souffle.

Still, due to his sedentary lifestyle since losing his job four years ago, Phoenix Wright was incredibly bottom-heavy. All those months of planting his fat ass on his couch and doing nothing but eating crappy takeout food, sleeping, and watching Steel Samurai reruns on his TV, with the only exercise he got being walking to the door to bring in all the bags of food he got delivered every couple of hours, truly did a number on the lower half of his body. Each of his enormous shapeless asscheeks took up one half of the couch, the cushions completely flattened underneath his incredible weight. The burgeoning bulk of his massive ass strained the fabric of his once-huge sweatpants, with one steadily growing tear going right down the middle of his butt, which would reveal his boxers to anyone behind him if his ass weren’t firmly sat down on his overburdened couch at almost all hours of the day. His thighs were almost as thick as tree trunks, making his pants look like overfilled piping bags, with little rips forming on the seams where his dimpled cellulite poked through. His thighs were so fat that no mater how far apart he spread them while sitting, they pooled under him in a way that they were always touching. The fat from his thighs was also starting to fold over onto his knees, making it gradually harder to bend them when he stood up to get his food deliveries. Phoenix was also starting to notice that his meaty calves were starting to get so fat that his ankles were fusing with the mass of fat that was the rest of his flabby leg rolls. All in all, the former legal legend was nigh unrecognizable to anyone who hadn’t seen him in the past four years and known about his decline into pure sedentary gluttony.

Phoenix felt a buzzing coming from the pocket of his hoodie that currently rested right between his massive pillow-sized moobs, straining his fat arms against his squishy chest. The sheer size of his chest made it hard for his already-overburdened arms to reach things in front of him, especially when it was something so close to his body. Eventually he managed to reach his pocked and pull out his phone and saw that the last of the deliveries had been made, so Phoenix swung his bulk off the couch and began waddling to the office’s door. His soft, flabby gut hung almost like an apron in front of his legs, the lower half of it dangling halfway down his couch-crushing thighs, slapping against them loudly with every heavy step he took. The obese man opened the door and gathered up the piles of takeout containers in his flabby arms, his wobbling gut just barely brushing the floor as he leaned down to pick up the precious packages. He knew he had a double date tonight with his husband and boyfriend, but Phoenix just couldn’t wait that long to have his greedy gut properly filled. He began steadily waddling his way back to his old worn out couch, his shapeless orbs that were his enormous ass cheeks jiggling hypnotically the entire time.

Phoenix slowly lowered his incredible bulk back down onto his sofa, oblivious to the strained groaning of the metal frame beneath his prodigious rear end. He deposited his delicious cargo onto the coffee table in front of his couch and leaned forward, his double-layered tummy splitting into even more rolls as he strained to reach one of the roughly thirty or so containers of food. He grabbed it in his pudgy fingers and sat back, sighing in relief as he opened the styrofoam box. Inside was a triple decker cheeseburger with extra cheese and bacon, with extra fries. Phoenix always gorged on burgers on Wednesdays, it was an old tradition of his and Maya’s to get burgers on Wednesdays nights after working a long case. Now that she was too busy training to be the next Master of Kurain Village, Phoenix opted to just stuff himself with extra large burgers on his own instead. Grasping the massive burger between his sausage-sized fingers, he lifted it to his mouth and took a huge bite, moaning in joy as the flavors of the juicy burger burst over his taste buds. A little bit of grease dribbled down his scruff chins, but Phoenix didn’t even notice. He continued devouring the triple cheeseburger with practiced ease, demolishing the entire thing and all the fries in record time before moving onto the next container, and the next, and the next…

The former lawyer ate and ate for hours, completely lost in the decadence of his burger feast, each one just as fattening and greasy as the last. Phoenix was completely ignorant to the pounds he was packing on in his fast food haze, too busy stuffing his flabby face with his greasy “breakfast”. His fatty arm rolls grew thicker and thicker, ripping the seams of his hoodie’s sleeves to shreds after just an hour of gorging himself. Tears in the stretchy fabric began to form between his massive breasts, each one straining the overburdened sweatshirt in opposite directions. His soft, flabby gut gurgled as it slowly seeped further outwards, filling his entire oversized lap and overflowing over his legs entirely. His enormous ass and titanic thigh rolls finally won the battle against his formerly-loose sweatpants, a series of loud ripping noises and the twang of splitting elastic signalling their end as waves of lard erupted out of them, his meaty love handles and wobbling cheeks resting comfortably on the arm rests of his overtaxed couch as his oak tree sized thigh rolls dangled over the edge of the sofa cushions.

Finally, after just a few hours, Phoenix finished devouring the last of his burger feast, belching into his closed fist after swallowing the last bite. The man lazily looked down at himself, realizing all he could see was his bare tits and the top roll of his gut. Then he felt his soft fatty flesh covering the entire couch, overflowing over the edges, and it hit him: Phoenix had officially grown fat enough to fill his two-person couch just by himself. As that realization was sinking in, he heard a loud noise, like metal bending, and his heart sank. Trying desperately to lower his sagging lard-covered arms to his sides to hoist himself off of the ticking time bomb that was his couch, Phoenix realized he was now so fat that his arms couldn’t bend right at the elbow anymore, his rolls of arm fat folding over the joint and making it essentially useless. Not only that, but he couldn’t even get his arms down to his sides anymore because of his beanbag-sized moobs and layers of side rolls getting in the way. Well, that just leaves me with one option, Phoenix thought to himself as he planted his chubby feet on the floor in front of him. He began slowly leaning forward, trying to inch his way upwards and off of his sofa, but after a few minutes a cold realization dawned on him: his enormously fat ass was stuck between the armrests of the couch. He’d heard of people getting stuck in a dining chair before, but an entire loveseat?! This was ridiculous! Phoenix didn’t have long to think about how incredibly obese he had gotten, as the couch let out one last groaning metallic shriek and gave out under his unbelievable weight. Phoenix let out a yelp as he plummeted backward to the floor with a resounding boom that sent the entire office quaking. Thankfully he had a lot of extra padding to cushion the fall, and he lay there groaning, his flabby shoulders and back rolls pushing his multiple chins and drooping jowls up around his face. Well, at least Miles and Godot will be here in a few hours, Phoenix thought to himself. I may as well sleep off those burgers while I wait for them. The gigantic man yawned loudly as he fell asleep, pinned beneath his own hundreds of pounds of lard, snoring loudly the entire time.

 Phoenix woke with a start as he felt something laying on top of his squishy chest. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the familiar red glow of his boyfriend Godot’s visor inches from his fat-wreathed face. Standing over him and looking mildly amused was his husband, Edgeworth, holding a few bags of food in his arms. The chief prosecutor tssked softly as he shook his head at his obese partner. “Really, Wright, I’ve been warning you about that couch for months now, and yet you kept ignoring me. Now look where that got you, stuck laying on your back, pinned by your own greedy ways.”

Godot laughed softly as he leaned forward to kiss Phoenix’s fat lips. “He has a point, Phoenix, you really have let yourself go. You’ve become quite the hungry little hog, haven’t you?” The masked man grabbed heaping handfuls of Phoenix’s flabby jowls as he shoved his mouth against the helpless former lawyer, making out with him with such an intense ferocity that Phoenix didn’t really know what hit him. Their lips parted with a whimper from Phoenix, craving more, but it was cut off by Edgeworth sticking a sticky cream-filled donut in his husband’s greedy mouth. “There will be plenty of time for that later, dear, but for now, I’m sure you must be starving. Let us take care of that little issue first before we get you up off that floor and find out just how big a butterball you’ve become.” Miles passed the rest of the box of donuts to Godot, who was still laying on top of Phoenix’s enormous bulk. He positioned the box on Phoenix’s chins for easier stuffing access and began pressing the fried sweet delights into his mouth one after another, barely giving him any time to swallow one before another was fed to him. Miles sat on the floor beside Phoenix, leaning against his pillowy arm rolls as he began stuffing his husband’s face with large fancy cupcakes, frosting and crumbs flecking his droopy jowls and his many stubble-covered chins.

The tender dual-feeding session was over quickly, with two feeders and one voracious feedee making short work of the boxes of baked goods. Edgeworth leaned over his morbidly obese husband’s arm fat to kiss his round overstuffed cheek. “All finished? Then we should probably get you off the floor now and see how much you weigh, hm?” Godot whined from where he still lay on top of Phoenix’s mounds of man-tits. “Aww, but I’m having fun up here! He’s so soft and fun to pinch and lay on now “ The masked man grinned mischievously. “Plus, it’s so fun to see from above just how far the mighty Phoenix Wright has fallen.” Miles gave Phoenix’s flabby gut a hearty shove, sending the entire expanse of his husband’s fat-swaddled body wobbling so hard that it knocked Godot off of his chest. The two men each grabbed one of Phoenix’s lard-coated wrists and heaved, taking a solid five minutes to get the jiggling mound of pure fat that was once the best defense attorney around back on his feet. Edgeworth then led the pear-shaped butterball to the scale he’d bought last year, watching the numbers go up and up. They finally stopped, and Edgeworth read the display out loud. “Seven hundred and sixty-two pounds. Good god, Wright, you really have gotten enormous.” He pulled Phoenix into a hug, squishing into his pillowy soft body. “I’m so proud of you, dear.” Godot grabbed a fistful of his boyfriend’s chair-sized ass cheeks appraisingly, before grunting in approval. “Yeah, I’d say you’ve become a pretty prize hog, Phoenix. Good work. Looks great on you.”

The two much smaller men escorted their doughy partner as he lumbered his way back to the broken sofa. Phoenix was breathing heavily, worn out from just waddling over to the scale and back, but the couch was completely busted. He had nowhere to sit now. Edgeworth patted his squishy shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Phoenix. I can get you a special reinforced couch delivered tomorrow. But more importantly, I have a job opportunity that came my way for you.”

Phoenix looked at his husband quizzically. “Job opportunity? What kind?” Miles chuckled. “Well, it involves a lot of eating as a front, but… how good are you at playing poker?”

 A young brown haired lawyer was pacing around the defendant lobby of the courthouse. Today was his first ever trial as a defense attorney, and his client was nowhere to be seen. The chubby man was very nervous, loudly muttering to himself in a voice that had clearly been driven hoarse from practicing all night the night before. “It’s fine, Apollo! Everything is just fine! Your client is probably just stuck in traffic, that’s all! He’ll be here in time for the trial! It’s fine! You’re fine! I’m fine!” He took a deep breath and let loose a yell that could probably be heard from across the entire courthouse. “I’M APOLLO JUSTICE, AND I’M FINE!!!” Breathing heavily after such an incredibly loud scream, Apollo wiped his forehead with the back of a pudgy arm and walked over to one of the benches in the lobby, collapsing onto it gratefully. It was then that the rotund young man noticed the array of tables on the other side of the defendant lobby, each one piled high with mountains of food. “What the…” he mumbled to himself, “Who is all that food for…? Is- Is that for me?” He hoisted himself off the bench and walked over to the tables, his fat tummy growling hungrily at the sight of all that delicious food. Apollo was by no means a skinny man, having been well acquainted with stress eating ever since he started law school. Reaching out for a cream-filled donut with one chubby hand, he stopped when he heard noises coming from out in the hall. Loud noises, like a dinosaur was stomping around out there. Curious to know the source, Apollo turned around at the exact same moment the door to the defendant lobby opened. His eyes were greeted with the sight of none other than the Chief Prosecutor himself, Miles Edgeworth. Apollo yelped in shock and bowed his head respectfully, but Edgeworth stopped him. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Justice. I’m not here on prosecutor business. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, though. I’ve heard much about you from your mentor, Mr. Gavin.”

Apollo’s chubby cheeks were bright crimson, flustered to receive such high praise from such a legendary prosecutor. “U-uh, th-thank you, Mr. Edgeworth. I mean! Uh! Chief Prosecutor, sir!” Miles chuckled, a sound that Apollo was certain not many heard. “Please, Mr. Edgeworth will do. Now, I’ve heard you’ve taken over the case that Mr. Gavin was originally meant to take?” Apollo nodded. “Yes, Mr. Edgeworth. Once I heard who it was I would be defending, I insisted! He was always a hero of mine when I first decided I wanted to be a lawyer as a kid. Even after what happened seven years ago, I still believe he’s innocent!”

Edgeworth nodded, satisfied by the fledgling defense attorney’s passionate answer. “Excellent. Well, then, your client shall be arriving shortly.” Apollo looked up at him, clearly confused, so Edgeworth continued without pause. “I said I wasn’t here on prosecutor business, correct? The only reason I came here was to make sure your client could get here on his own.”

Apollo hummed in even further confusion. “What do you mean, Mr. Edgeworth? Is he… injured?” Miles shook his head gently. “You’ll see soon enough. Good day, Mr. Justice, and good luck with your trial.” With that, the Chief Prosecutor left the defendant lobby, his coat tails swooshing behind him. Apollo stood in the middle of the lobby, absolutely baffled, when he realized the loud stomping noises in the hallway had started again, and were getting louder-- and closer. He stood and watched as the door to the hallway was opened, not by a hand, but by an enormous flabby stomach as wide as the door was pressed into it slowly. The wobbling double-decker behemoth of a gut oozed past the door frame, soft enough that it could still fit through despite being wider than the doorway itself. Then came the rest of the doughy man’s front, his enormous drooping moobs and upper belly roll the only thing covered by his tent-sized sweatshirt. His neck was a thick ring of no less than eight flabby chins, all covered in a stubbly beard. His eyes squinted from behind jiggling oversized jowls that drooped down to his shoulders. The mammoth of a man continued shuffling his way through the doorway, squishing all his doughy rolls against the frame. His arms, which were just cylindrical dimpled pillows of fat that were slowly absorbing his round hands at the wrists, grasped at either side of the door frame to try and lever his massive bulk through the door easier. But suddenly, his flowing rolls of lard stopped moving through the doorway, and the flabby behemoth strained and pushed against the walls with his swaddled arms, trying desperately to get the rest of his bulk through the door. Apollo shook himself and trotted over to help the comically oversized man.

As he got closer to the wedged ball of lard, Apollo really got a good look at just how massively obese this guy was, even with only half his body visible. The young lawyer wasn’t skinny at all, but this guy even put his soft and round physique to shame. Apollo was pretty sure he could see the man’s feet peeking out from under the bottom of the exposed rolls of his incredible gut, which came down to just above his ankles. Looking down at his own stomach, which only just barely drooped over his belt, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed, and maybe jealous, that someone could get just so ridiculously fat.

Apollo coughed nervously before addressing the panting, wobbling blob of a man. “Uh, sorry to bother you, sir, but uh, do you… need help getting through the door?”

The blubbery behemoth responded in a voice that was deepened by all the fat caking his neck and interrupted with wheezy breaths every few words. “Yeahh… tha’ woul’… haah… helph a lot… thin’ my assh ish… haah… shtuck…” Apollo had to take a few seconds to mentally translate what the enormous man was saying through his speech being slurred by his flabby jowls getting in the way of his mouth. “Oh, your, uh, b-backside is stuck? Here, let me grab your arms and try and pull you through, okay sir?” The doughy butterball nodded, his cheeks and chins jiggling as he did, and he reached his overburdened arms as far forward as he could. Apollo had to lean into the man’s cushiony stomach rolls to reach his arms, feeling himself sinking into the warm, soft adipose. He grabbed onto the man’s fat-ringed wrists and began pulling as hard as he could, trying to ignore the way being enveloped between the man’s blubbery tits and tummy made him feel. After a few minutes of pulling the immense man’s nearly useless arms, Apollo finally felt the wobbling flab all around him begin inching forward slowly. He kept tugging at the monstrously sized man’s round hands as he in turn shuffled his titanic thunder thighs through the door, every roll and fold of fat covering them touching at the middle, all the way down to his ankles.  Once he got his double door-wide hips and thighs through the door, it was just a manner of getting his fat ass inside, which was easier said than done.

Apollo let go of the man’s flabby arms to take a few steps back and think of a new plan of attack. He scanned the blubbery blob’s body, observing the parts he could now see that were stuck on the other side of the door before. It was no wonder he’d gotten stuck in the door. It was a single doorway, and this man, who was so fat that he’d probably be immobilized by his own weight soon if he kept getting fatter, had a lower half that was wide enough to take up five chairs at a dinner table. One overstuffed thigh was almost as wide as the doorway itself on its own, let alone two of them. His squishy love handles oozed over the top of his sweatpants that probably had more X’s in their size than Apollo cared to even imagine, giving the already definitively pear-shaped blubber bag a overflowing muffin top behind his apron of stomach rolls. His arms rested at a ninety degree angle because of his beanbag-sized tits and plush love handles colliding with fat-coated arm rolls that were the size of his own fat head. Damn, how huge must this man’s butt be if it’s still stuck in the doorway after all the rest of that managed to get through?! Apollo thought to himself, when he noticed the whale-sized lardball eyeing the food tables that he’d almost taken a donut from earlier. “Who’sh tha’… haah… food f’r...? Haah… haah…” the behemoth wheezed. “The food? Oh, I’m not sure. It was here when I got here. No one said whose it was.” Apollo could only stand and watch in awe as he observed what happened next. The monumentally obese man began wobbling his bulky form forward and backward against the door frame, slamming his rolls against it repeatedly as cracks began to form around the wooden framework. He then began slowly inching his thunderous legs forward, having to shift his blubbery bulk back and forth in a painfully slow waddle, his lard-caked thighs touching at all points no matter how far apart he spread his legs to “walk”. As he moved his door-sized legs forward, the cracks around the door frame widened, creating loud snapping noises as he dragged his rolls of fat further and further into the defendant lobby.

Finally, with one resounding crunch, the door frame gave way, parts of the walls surrounding it coming with it, crushed to pieces by the enormous blob of a man and his incredible ass cheeks. The flabby titan’s doughy body surged forward as he freed his backside finally, giving Apollo a chance to finally see the probably half-ton of lard in all his glory, and boy, did it make sense how he’d gotten so stuck in that doorway. The man’s ass was easily wide enough to get stuck in a double door, let alone a single one! Each doughy cheek probably took three chairs to sit on on their own, and they sagged so far down that they were touching the floor! Apollo was stunned. How could someone get this fat and still be up walking around? The swollen mass of fatty rolls wobbled constantly as he stood still, wheezing from the effort of busting through the doorway using his hundreds of pounds of fat as a battering ram. After getting his breathing back to the normal level of heavy breathing for one his massive size, the colossal mountain of man-flesh turned his attention back to the tables piled high with food across the lobby, drooling at the sight of it all. He began shuffling his jiggling bulk towards the tables slowly as Apollo watched in fascinated awe. Each heavy step shook the entire room, his double-decker gut rippling with shockwaves from slapping against his meaty cankles with every step. His shapeless flabby ass cheeks wobbled hypnotically as they bumped against the floor with every movement. His beanbag chair moobs slapped against his flab-caked arms, which rested at an angle  even when waddling across the room. His cascade of chins and sagging jowls shook with every heaving breath from the exertion of walking so much. As soon as the man’s gut rolls reached the tables before the rest of him, he flung his doughy body at the plates of food, his fat hands grabbing any food within reach and stuffing it into his greedy face, chewing loudly and getting his chins covered in food. Apollo cleared his throat and spoke to the whale of a man. “Um, excuse me, sir, but, wh-why are you here? This is the defendant’s lobby, not a buffet.”

The barely-mobile butterball spoke around a mouthful of food. “Mmmmph… sho… Milesh… mrrrrmph… dihden… shay…? Youh… ahre… hffff… my… lawyuh…mmmmph…”

Apollo’s jaw practically hit the floor. Gazing at the mound of blubber before him, wearing a tiny sweatshirt stretched across his moobs and sweatpants what couldn’t even contain half of his ass fat, the young defense attorney stammered out a response. “W-what?! So then… y-you’re the Phoenix Wright?! The famous defense attorney?” The man’s swollen fatty head wobbled in something resembling a nodding gesture, his neck too fat for an actual nod. “Wh-what happened to you? Last I heard, you’d been disbarred seven years ago! How did you end up like… like that?” The enormous Phoenix Wright paused his gorging himself to explain. “Haaah… haah… I wohrk… ash a… haah… tashte… teshtuh… urrrrp… fuhll… tihme…” The blob-shaped man smiled cryptically, before immediately returning to stuffing his face with the frantic speed of someone who thought they would starve to death. Apollo rubbed his temples, more stressed than ever. How was he going to defend someone who couldn’t even go ten minutes without eating? This case was going to be an ordeal, he could just tell.

[buckyownsmylife]

between us - final chapter

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

A/N for this chapter: we’ve reached the end, you guys! I don’t know if I’m ever writing for Hotch again, since I don’t really think anyone even read this series, but sharing it with the world was very important to me, since the whole story was so personal. If you do end up reading it and reaching the final chapter, I hope it resonated with you somehow. Thanks for reading!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Three months passed in the blink of an eye and the well I had hid in for so long was nowhere to be found. Between Penelope’s ever-present banter, Rossi’s pasta nights and overall, the support of my friends - that made the BAU seem more like a family than a job - I was feeling better than I had felt in years.

But of course, most of my progress was to be thanked to a certain SSA Aaron Hotchner - and Jack had a big part in it, too. Both had welcomed me not only into their home, but into their lives, to a point where it was hard to remember what Friday nights used to look like away from them, without pizzas and Disney movies. I never went back to living in my apartment. Aaron never mentioned it, and apart from the two visits we had made right after I moved in with them, to gather more of my clothing I’d left behind, I hadn’t even been there in a while.

In fact, I had been gathering the courage to talk about it with my boyfriend for the last week or so. I knew we’d need to have this conversation eventually, and when the opportunity arose via us wrapping up a case that was supposed to last all weekend, leaving Jack with his aunt while we could have the house to ourselves, I knew it was now or never.

“I still can’t believe we were able to solve this before Sunday,” Aaron said, that cute tiny smile on his lips as he opened the door to his house.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It still feels weird not going to pick Jack up, though.” My boyfriend nodded, turning around to face him after he’d dropped his briefcase over the sofa.

“I know. But it’s already too late to wake him and Jessica up just to bring him home. We’ll get him in the morning.” I nodded, mostly because this was perfect for my intentions for the evening, but still, I missed the little guy.

“Aaron,” I started when he opened the fridge in search of something we could eat. He hummed to let me know he was listening, but despite the fact that I wanted to start talking while he was otherwise occupied with other stuff, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the added weight of his impenetrable eyes on my figure, the words didn’t leave my mouth fast enough. Obviously, he took notice, which only made him immediately turn around to look at me, where I was sitting by the breakfast table, trying not to look incredibly guilty as I met his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” It was hard not to giggle at how quickly he went into dad mode at the prospect of any trouble. It helped to clear the air and release some of the tension I had accumulated in my body.

“Nothing’s wrong, silly. I just have something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded, opting to reheat some leftover pasta I had made a few nights before we left over trying to create something from scratch this late in the evening.

“Tell me.” He was stirring the pot where the pasta had been deposited as he waited for me to begin, but I knew his concentration was completely focused on me. I had to recognize how incredible he was, not only as a boyfriend, but also as a profiler. It was clear that he was aware of how much easier it would be for me to open up if he had the premise of another task in his mind, keeping his eyes away from me.

“My landlord called me this week.” And there it went. All pretense was suddenly dropped as his head immediately whipped up to stare at me with a frown on his handsome face, clenching the pot with much more strength than it was really necessary.. “My lease is about to end, I have to sign the renewal soon. I figured it’s the perfect time to talk about me returning to my apartment.” 

At first, he didn’t say anything, simply stared back at me with unreadable eyes. And then we smelled something funny. “Oh my God, Aaron, stir the pot and lower the heat!” I directed after finally realising what was going on. I jumped out of the chair to help him, but by the time I had made my way around the counter and inside the kitchen, the situation had been diffused and the pasta was done. “Is it still edible?” I joked, peering up from his side to check if there was still some salvaged part of the food, but it looked mostly alright. Maybe only the bottom part was burnt. 

He didn’t answer me, not even offering a chuckle to lighten up the mood. But he did plate up the now warm pasta, picking up both dishes and walking to the table without a single glance at me. It was clear he was deep in his thoughts, so I figured it’d be best to allow him time to get to any conclusions he might reach by himself, opting to simply follow him and take my place where he laid my plate, silently starting to eat while keeping an eye on him. 

It was only after my second bite of food that he said something, and it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.

“Aren’t you happy here?” The question caught me so by surprise that I dropped my fork against the plate, immediately flinching from the loud sound that echoed around the empty living room in the middle of the night.

“Of course I am, Aaron.” I didn’t understand how he could for even a minute doubt that. Didn’t he see how much better I was? How he had managed to help me get back to normal? 

“Then why do you want to leave?” If the other question took me by surprise, this one completely astounded me. I couldn’t even offer an immediate answer, because I was in no way prepared for it. 

Finally, I settled for, “I never said I wanted to leave, honey. It’s just that I figured it’s a natural evolution for our situation. I’m better now, and I have my own apartment. Why should I stay here?” It was like he had barely heard me, by the way he immediately countered my question with one of his own.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“Well, do you want to?” She looked lost, her mouth opening a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. 

“Want to what?” She looked so confused, fidgeting with the edge of her skirt while she bit her lip. I had to lean down and deposit a quick kiss on her mouth, not only because I always wanted to kiss her, but also because I knew it helped her relax. When I saw her shoulders relax, I covered her hands with mine, pulling them up on the table so I could keep holding them more comfortably.

“Do you want to stay here?” I finally clarified, watching attentively for her reactions. At first, she looked surprised, her mouth falling open and her eyes widening at my question, but in seconds she gathered her thoughts and bit her lips, avoiding my eyes before nodding, a sheepish smile on her lips.

A huge grin immediately appeared on my face, as I watched her come to senses with what I had just asked. When she finally found enough courage in herself to look up at me again, I threw myself at her, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy. Watching Y/N come back to her natural state was already relieving, as it was to have her around all the time, especially when it came to help me take care of Jack, but to know that she wanted to be here indefinitely, that she had agreed to live with us? I was over the moon.

When we separated to catch our breaths, she was flushed again, and it was clear she was trying very hard to keep her eyes on mine.

“What?” I asked, certain I had a goofy smile on my face. She bit her lip once more, making me groan. “Stop that, pretty girl,” I teased, pulling her bottom lip from its confine. She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “Now tell, me, what is it that you want?”

The atmosphere of the room had changed, it was clear now. Whereas it had felt cold only a few minutes ago, when I thought she wanted to leave me, it felt absurdly hot out of nowhere, and I had half a mind to rip her dress off of her. So when she answered me with a soft, “You,” I knew exactly what she meant.

I immediately stood up from my chair, reaching out to help her leave hers too, but instead of walking hand in hand towards our room - it was our room, now, I reminded myself with a smile - I couldn’t deal with the prospect of spending another second separated from her skin, so I took her in my embrace, kissing her in celebration of the next steps in our relationship we were taking together, tonight.

We made out like two teenagers right there, in the middle of my living room, and when the fire that was growing inside of me rose up to my head, I found myself pulling on her dress and taking it off her body, not caring to notice where it ended up. The second her skin became available to me, I lost the last of the control I was still trying to keep, and pulled her by her ass to wrap her legs around me so I could at least take her to our bedroom before I had my way with her, like I’d been dreaming to do for so long.

 Y/N’s P.O.V.

As soon as Aaron carefully laid me down on his bed I was already sitting up, reaching for his shirt. I’d been dreaming about this for so long, long before he ever showed any interest in me. Of course, back then it made me embarrassed - I never thought I’d be the girl with a crush on her boss - but after we came clear about our feelings, the only reason why I didn’t immediately jump his bones was because he wanted to wait for me to get better. And which person wouldn’t melt with that?

Only now that waiting time was over, I couldn’t get him undressed fast enough. It was nice to see him with a teasing smile, looking down at me with that mischievous glint in his eye as he realized just how much I wanted him, when in our day-to-day life outside this house he was always so serious.

“Someone’s eager,” he jested, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I expected you to be too, or should I be worried about you not being attracted to me?” The question was made in all good humour, but Aaron clearly did not appreciate it. His smile immediately dropped, and before I could say anything to make it better, he was crawling up on the bed, making himself at home between my legs.

“Don’t even joke about this,” he whispered, dark eyes studying mine just like he did whenever we were alone before he captured my lips in a deep kiss that was equal parts possession and affection. “Do you feel this?” He pressed himself against me, and I could feel exactly what he was referring to. “I’m always so hard around you, sweetheart. You have no idea how difficult it has been to live with you and not be able to touch you like I’ve been dreaming of.”

His words made me whine, clutching his back so he’d lay more of his weight on me. For someone who was as quiet as Aaron usually was, I wasn’t expecting him to be so comfortable in sharing his desires with me, but it only made me appreciate it even more.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And you’re not doing a good job of taking advantage of this opportunity at all.” He smirked teasingly at me, getting out of the bed to take off his clothes until all he had on was his boxers. Then he was back between my legs, pressing his hardness against me with even more fervor as he devoured my lips once more.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“I’ll show you how well I can take advantage of you, little girl.” She whined once more, making me chuckle as I slowly left her lips to continue pressing kisses on her jaw, until I was sucking on her pulse point, marking her as mine. I’d never been one for leaving bruises before, too worried about the consequences came the morning time, but in that moment I’d damn all the consequences just to have her, own her, make sure she’d never forget how it felt to be together like this for the first time. 

I didn’t want to have to learn how to be without her again. She was a part of me now, a part of my life and I liked it better with her around. I liked me better with her around. So I made sure to make the most out of this opportunity, when I finally had her exactly where I wanted, to imprint her taste in my mouth, memorize the smell of her skin. 

As I kissed every inch of skin my lips could meet, she danced underneath me, desperately trying to create some friction between us, in that wet heat I could hardly wait to encounter again. So I granted it to her, rubbing my clothed cock on her pussy as hard as I could while ripping off her bra, exposing her beautiful breasts to me for the first time. 

My mouth watered at the sight, and I immediately enclosed one pebbled nipple with my lips, circling it with my tongue before sucking on it lightly. At her pleased gasp, accompanied by one of her hands, which she tangled in my hair, I doubled my efforts, sucking a bit harder, until I heard her moaning sweetly above me.

The sound went straight to my crotch, and I lifted myself off one breast to stare up at her, take in the beauty that was seeing her like this, slightly out of breath, her lips bruised from my nibbling. 

“You’re perfect,” I let her know, and when she smiled I leaned down to give the other breast the same treatment. God, she tasted sweet. If her skin was this delicious, I could only imagine how delightful it would be to bury my face in between her thighs, drinking in her essence.

But I wouldn’t have to imagine it much longer. Slowly, determined to kiss each inch of skin along the way, I created a pathway of kisses and bruises down her stomach, appreciating the shiver that went up her spine at the feeling of my nose caressing her lower belly. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” I insisted in reminding her, knowing how hard it was for her to believe me - or anyone else - when it came to her qualities, but she needed to learn about her own beauty. I’d teach her to recognize it.

“Aaron, please…” Now, I’d heard a lot of sexy things in my life - most of them from her own lips, ever since we’d started dating - but nothing had ever come near the sound of her begging me to give her some release. It made me lose my infamous control, it turned me into that same man I’d become when I had her over my lap, writhing with the need to feel my touch on her skin.

“That’s not how you call me, is it, sweetheart?” I asked, looking up at her from my spot between her thighs, while I sensuously kissed the soft skin there. Her eyes sparkled with understanding, and while she tried to control the instinctual need to raise her hips to try and get me to touch her where she really needed, she finally said the words I’d been dying to hear again.

“Please, daddy, I need you.” That was all I needed to plunge into her waiting heat. Just like I’d anticipated, she tasted heavenly. Syrupy sweet and incredibly addicting. I wanted to bathe in her essence, drown in it. 

It didn’t help my animalistic instincts that every swipe of my tongue over her little clit elicited the most musical moans from her perfect lips, which only served to further incentive me to bury my tongue as far as it could go inside of her weeping hole. My nose was the one massaging her nub while I struggled to get every drop of wetness I could collect, further aided by my head’s movements as I enthusiastically moved around, eating her out hungrily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Aaron was so starved for my cunt that all of a sudden, his hands came up to grab the cheeks of my ass, helping him better angle my body to how he desired to be able to fully appreciate his meal. It was dirty and sinful, but it was exactly what I needed after so many nights dreaming about his touch on me.

I was so wet I could feel it dripping from my lower lips, smearing my thighs and tarnishing the duvet underneath me. It didn’t seem like he minded, though. It was more for him to lap, and I had to grab the covers to try to keep my mind from going insane.

“Daddy…” I moaned, desperate for release as my whole body trembled underneath him. Aaron didn’t even look up, still too busy with my pussy, and I had to say it out loud so I could get his permission. “Wanna cum.”

That made him look up at me, but only his gaze went up to meet mine, his face remaining buried against me, never stopping his incessant licking. “Come on, love. Come for me.” As always, I followed his order without any amount of hesitation.

It wasn’t like I could control it, anyway. My body didn’t belong to me anymore, it was his, his to take, to care for, to love and to deal with, when necessary. And I trusted him to take good care of it.

So far, so good. He finally came up for air as my muscles relaxed, making me fall slack against the sweat-drenched mattress. Kissing his way up my body, he kissed me on the lips with fervor when our lips finally met, his long fingers immediately finding their way inside of my still sensitive cunt. 

“Daddy…” I whined, feeling too raw yet to be able to deal with any part of him inside of me, but he was having none of it. Although he immediately retreated the finger, it was only to slap my pussy so I’d stop trying to close my legs around him, conceding all the access to my body once again. 

As soon as my legs fell open, he was pushing it inside of me again, only this time there were two of them. Despite how wet I was, the thickness was already far more than I was used to, but the stretch felt wonderful, making me feel full like I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

Over me, I heard Aaron curse, prompting me to open my eyes again (when had I even closed them?) only to find him focused where his fingers were carefully exploring. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

The question made me giggle, knowing he didn’t really need an answer. But the truth was, it’d been over a year. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had sex with my ex, and since it had been a while before we broke up, I knew Aaron would really need the time to prep me up to take him.

Just the memory of how his cock felt underneath me, straining in his trousers when he had me over his lap, had a new wave of wetness flooring from within me. My boyfriend sucked in a breath, clearly hypnotized by the way the added lubricant helped him ease his digits in.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

I was transfixed, completely in love with the way her pussy gripped my fingers every time I pulled them back only to push in again. Although it didn’t help my growing need to repeat the action with my cock, it did fill me with some kind of satisfaction by itself. I was the one doing this to her, I was the one giving her this pleasure. She was creaming around my fingers.

So I kept on my shallow thrusts until I could see it wasn’t enough for her. I saw it in the way she pushed back to meet my digits. I saw it in the whines she was emitting, which only served to make me even harder for her. Finally, she was the one who broke me out of my reverie, downright begging me, “Please, Aaron, please. I wanna cum around your cock. Please.”

Who could possibly deny such a request? I recognized that I was known for my control, but I still had needs, like any person. And right then, all I needed was her. So I pulled away, just enough so that I was able to pull my boxers down and wrap my hand around my member, trying to relieve some of the tension.

The vision before me more than helped. It was better than porn, certainly better than anything my mind could create, seeing Y/N like that, completely naked, heaving and wet because of me.

I knew birth control wasn’t a concern, so I just leaned over her again, rubbing the head of my cock on her clit and appreciating the desperate moan that resonated around the room before I dragged it down and pushed in.

Immediately, the feeling of tightness and warmth made me gasp, and I almost lost my balance and fell on top of her body, but her own hands flew up to hold me by my hips, freezing me in place. She didn’t say anything, but from her whimper, it was clear that she was in pain, so as much as I was trembling with the urge to push all the way inside of her, I breathed deeply and rested my forehead on hers.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I know it hurts, I’m going slowly, okay? Give you time to get used to it.” She nodded, eyes squeezed shut while I delivered quick kisses all over her face. I tried to pull back slightly and push in only a little bit further, and she seemed to adjust to that, her hands coming around my torso to hug me to her.

“Slowly,” she repeated in a whisper, still not opening her eyes.

“Slowly,” I agreed, kissing her temple and keeping up with the ritual of sliding back and pushing in again, until I was able to bottom out. “Fuck, daddy!” The whiny tone of her voice only added to my arousal, and I exchanged my kisses for little bites all over her neck.

“Does it feel good, baby? Can I move?” I asked, fascinated by the taste of her sweat on my tongue. I wanted to lap it up, just like I had done to her wetness minutes before, but the ache in my groin reminded me there were more pressing urges to be fulfilled now.

“Yes, Yes! Please, move!” That was all I was waiting for to start thrusting in and out of her. It was an incredible feeling. It’d been so long since I’d felt this connected to someone. It felt amazing. She felt amazing. Such a strong feeling of belonging, of true love coursed through my body that all I wanted to do was to kiss the breathing air out of her lungs.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I held on Aaron’s body like it was my lifeboat, and in many ways, I supposed he was precisely that. He’d been patient when I needed, firm when I desired it and now he was filling me in ways I’d never felt before.

It was such an overwhelming feeling, to be this connected to someone. The thought prompted me to finally open my eyes, only to find his already fixed on mine. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and I felt my heart grow twice its size before I pulled him to meet my lips again.

“So are you,” I mumbled against his mouth, and he chuckled breathlessly, still fucking me deeply against the mattress, prompting me to run my nails over his back, making him curse. Believe me, there was nothing hotter than hearing Aaron Hotcher curse while being balls deep into you.

“I don’t ever want to leave you,” he confessed, and I knew he was referring to the act we were currently partaking in, but I couldn’t help but to run my fingers through his hair, softly responding, “Then don’t.”

The mood suddenly changed, and so did his thrusts. They became slower, but more meaningful, somehow. His forehead fell to mine, his lips but an inch from mine when he answered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t.”

I knew we’d still have so much to overcome, so much to fight for, but the fact was that we’d be doing it together. I knew that now, as I felt him move inside of me, bringing me to new heights of pleasure, his hands finding mine and holding them by my side, in bed. This, right here, wouldn’t solve everything, but it brought me a sense of belonging I’d never been able to experience before.

And at the end of the day, I knew that all I wanted was to belong to Aaron for the rest of my life.

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Decay

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request 1: Omg I just read the I have a boyfriend and the opposites attract and I'm aksjksjeje. Idk if ur taking requests, but in case u are I need more on that mother nature reader and Warren pleaaaaseee!!! Maybe something with angst, like some conflict in their relationship, but with a happy would be greatttttt I absolutely love ur writing x

Request 2: I have a idea for mother nature x warren: how about an angsty fic about their first fight? And for the first time mother nature feels heartbreak and is really hurt. Her eyes are pitch black and empty. Usually, when she relaxes, she grows pumpkins etc. But this time all the vegatables are rotten or too small. Maybe you feel inspired by this :) (would be great if it has a happy ending though haha) Thank you, you're great!

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, underage drinking, panic attack, and assault

Word Count: 8k

A/N: This took a long time but I hope you guys enjoy it! This builds more into Warren and Mother Nature’s relationship, probably set before fairytale

 Everything had been perfect. Halloween was coming up, and (Y/N) asked Jubilee if she’d do a group costume with her and another girl. 

Jubilee said yes, trusting (Y/N)’s opinion on people, for she always saw the good in them.

Jubilee took her, and the other girl, Jessie Rowe, to one of those pop up Halloween shops to look for costumes. 

“We can just get inspired if we don’t see anything perfect, you know?” Jubilee said. “We can always make our costumes.” (Y/N) nodded while looking at the different colored crayon costumes. 

“But it would be so much easier just to get one now. We could all go as like— sexy angels or something. In honor of Warren!” Jessie suggested. 

(Y/N) grimaced a little at the outfit Jessie held up. She didn’t feel comfortable wearing something so thin and tight at some house party on a cold October night. 

Jubilee laughed, “That’d be cute.” 

“Come on,” Jessie nudged her. “(Y/N), I bet your boyfriend would go nuts seeing you in this.”

“Mmm, I think he might find it kind of offensive or something…” She didn’t want to go as a sexy anything for Halloween. No offense to anyone who did dress sexy on Halloween, but that just wasn’t (Y/N)’s vibe. “Not my thing anyway…”

“Oh, come on! He wouldn’t be offended; Warren’s such an angel. I bet he’d fuck you if you wore this.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide with shock. She’d never had someone be so blunt and explicit with her— Well, she had, but it wasn’t directed at her. 

“Um, we’re going to a party, Jess…” (Y/N) awkwardly reminded her. 

“I know, but you guys could sneak off somewhere or leave early. People do it all the time.” 

“What about vampires?!” Jubilee interrupted, holding packages of fake fangs in her hands. 

“Oh, that’d be fun! And we could get fake blood too!” Jessie put the angel outfit back on the rack and went to a different area with Jubilee. 

(Y/N) followed behind, thankful for the interruption, but still thinking about Jessie’s comment. 

“If you two do decide to fuck at the party, I want all the details…”

Why did she care so much if Warren and I are having sex?

She tried to focus on other things as Jubilee attempted to change the subject. 

“Fruits? Personally, I’d like to be a strawberry.” 

Jessie laughed, “We’re not in elementary.” Jubilee shrugged before holding up a banana costume and made a suggestive joke. Jessie and (Y/N) laughed at her. 

“I think we should be pink ladies.” Jessie morphed her voice to sound like Olivia Newton-John. 

“From Grease? But that’s so overdone,” Jubilee didn’t like the idea, but it was the first decent one Jessie had all day. 

“I mean, if someone else shows up in the same costume, we’re technically not matching…” (Y/N) said. 

“See?” Jessie smiled. “(Y/N)‘s smart!” 

“Alright, alright, give me some time. I’ll think about it,” Jubilee stated. 

“Trust me; you’ll come around.” 

-

Warren was lying in bed, fast asleep. He’d just showered after training with Mystique and got his ass kicked. Even when he thought he was getting better, he still wasn't as good as her. 

(Y/N) entered the room, excited to tell Warren about her Halloween costume plans. 

Sure, she could have just texted him, but she hadn’t seen him all day. 

“Warren, Angel baby—“ She quickly shut her mouth when she saw him sprawled over his bed, fast asleep. 

She cooed over his sleeping figure, tempted to leave him as he was. 

What if he’s been asleep for hours? Or all morning? It’s still light out, though. I better wake him up anyway.

(Y/N) tapped his shoulder and said his name a few times, trying to get a response from him. 

He slowly stirred in his slumber, waking up from (Y/N)‘s interruption. “Hmm?...”

“Hey, War,” 

“Mmm… what time is it?” 

“3:48.” 

“Join me.” (Y/N) sat on his bed, sitting next to him as he shifted, snuggling next to her, and slowly woke up. “How’d shopping go with Jubilee?” 

“It was alright.” (Y/N) massaged his scalp as she retold her day. “Jessie kept shooting down our ideas and the ones she had Jubilee never really liked, so we didn’t exactly settle on anything…” 

Warren looked up at her. “I thought you guys were going as crayons?” 

“Jessie said no.”

“Why?”

(Y/N) shrugged, “She suggested we go as sexy angels.” 

Warren’s facial expression was piqued with interest, despite him trying not to show it. 

“I said that would be offensive to you, and we’d freeze to death anyway.” 

Warren chuckled, “I’ll be there to keep you warm.”

“Aren’t you gonna be shirtless?” 

“Maybe. I said I might— Roger Taylor didn’t wear a shirt most of the time.” 

Warren was teaming up with Kurt, Scott, and Peter to dress up as Queen, the rock band, for Halloween. 

“You could get sick! It might even rain on Halloween, which will make you even colder!”

“I’ll be fine.” Warren wasn’t too worried. 

“Wear a jacket, please.” 

“I will. I will…”

(Y/N) huffed, “Good… Cause if you don’t, I’ll bring you one, and it will be tacky and ugly and totally ruin your costume.  So you better bring one…” She jokingly threatened. 

Warren chuckled, “Yes, Mom.” (Y/N) laughed at his demeanor. 

Warren looked up at her, lifting his head up, lips puckered. A way of silently asking for a kiss. 

(Y/N) complied, and gave him a peck on the lips. 

“Wanna get some food? I’m kind of hungry.” 

Warren nodded. He finally, and officially, got out of bed since his nap, (Y/N) next to him. 

As they were about to leave his room, a leaf fell from (Y/N)‘s head. 

“You dropped a leaf.” 

She frowned, eyes purple with embarrassment, “That’s the fifth one this week.” 

Warren bent down to pick it up. “It’s fall. I’m surprised you still have a few left.” 

“I’ve still got about a month.” 

The vines wrapped around (Y/N)’s legs and the leaves in her hair were shedding— Just like the trees outside, as the weather dropped and plants prepared for winter. 

Warren took the leaf and set it in a book. He liked to press any of (Y/N)‘s leaves he could get his hands on. 

She thought it was silly, they were just leaves, but Warren liked them. 

(Y/N) rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. 

“I think there’s leftover Chinese from last night,” Warren told her. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take those. They aren’t mine.” 

“You can say I ate them. Ororo and Kurt took my pizza after we went to East Village Pizza.” 

“Didn’t you label the box?” 

Warren nodded, “Yeah, but it’s Kurt and Ororo. They ignored it.” 

(Y/N) stifled a laugh as she took out some milk, deciding to make mac and cheese. 

“They’re the only ones who don’t fear me.” He joked. 

“Hey! I’m right here… and besides—“ She turned the stovetop on. “—No one here “fears” you. Not even the little kids. Jamie Donaldson told me he wanted to be you for Halloween.” 

Warren tilted his head slightly in confusion.

The water in the pot had reached a boil and (Y/N) poured the dried noodles into it. “He said you were his hero. That he wanted to be like you when he got older.” 

Warren dismissed it, “His friends are gonna tease him.” 

“I’m sure they already do… he has gills… Deny it all you want, Worthington, but you’re not tough as nails. Underneath the metal, you’re a big softie who cries during The Notebook, and helps Alex teach the second graders.” 

“Babe, everyone cries during the notebook, and I had a free period, and Alex needed help.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Mmhmm… well, you can’t let Jamie down. It would crush him.” 

“I’m no—“ Warren stopped. 

“You’re no what?” (Y/N) teased nonchalantly. She knew what he was going to say. 

“You’ve trapped me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m not gonna say it.” 

(Y/N) mixed the milk, butter, and cheese powder in a separate bowl. “Say what?” 

“Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna play it?”

“You’re too hard on yourself! Be honest and caring for once.” (Y/N) pouted. 

“I’m not saying it. It’s dumb and cheesy.” 

“Fine. Then you don’t get any of my mac and cheese.”

“I’ll steal some when you’re not looking.” 

(Y/N) widened her eyes for comical intimidation. “I’m always looking.” 

Warren crossed his arms, “I’m still not going to say it.” 

“Please…” 

“I’m a bad person, (Y/N), I’ve done bad things…”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly, “Isn’t your therapist Brenda helping you not sound like Batman so much?” 

“Yeah.” 

(Y/N) kissed his nose. “Okay, Angel.” 

“(Y/N), I’m not—“

“Yes, you are! Say it.” 

“Fine,” He caved. “I’m an angel.” 

“Say it like you mean it. A positive tone of voice and affirmations improve a plant’s lifestyle and growth.” 

Warren couldn’t deny the small smile on his face, “I’m an angel.” 

(Y/N) squealed and kissed Warren’s lips. His cheeks were red, for he was flustered. 

“Can you get some bowls? Mac and cheese is done.”

“Yeah, sure.” Warren got two bowls and forks for them both and set them on the counter. 

(Y/N) scooped some macaroni into both bowls, then she and Warren sat on the barstools on the other side of the counter and chowed down. 

Jessie entered the kitchen as they ate their food. 

“Hey, (Y/N). Hey, Warren.” 

“Hey, Jessie! I just made some Mac and cheese if you’re hungry.” 

“I’m good, thanks. I don’t really eat carbs.”

“Oh… Okay…” (Y/N) looked down nervously at her bowl, trying to hide her purple eyes.

“Yeah, they just don’t agree with me, ya know?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I don’t really like hot Cheetos.”

“See? We’re practically one and the same.” Jessie smirked.

Warren’s gaze kept shifting between the girls. He was confused at the tone of the conversation. 

“Anyway, I came down here looking for you.” She said to (Y/N). 

“Really? What’s up?” 

“I convinced Jubilee that we should go as pink ladies.” 

“That’s great!” 

Jessie nodded, “We’re gonna get the stuff we need for our costumes tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good to me.” (Y/N) said. 

“Uh, huh… what are you going as for Halloween?” Jessie asked Warren. 

“A few other guys and I are going as Queen.” 

“Ooooo! I love their music.” 

Warren nodded, “Scott’s going as John Deacon, Peter’s going as Brian May, I’m going as Roger Taylor, and Kurt’s going as Freddie Mercury.” 

Her voice shifted to a flawless British accent, “Well, I’m sure you’ll look amazing, darling.”

Warren laughed, “Thanks.” 

“Of course… (Y/N) I’ll talk to you later about Halloween stuff.” 

“Okay. See you later.”

As Jessie sauntered away, Warren was a bit unsettled by Jessie’s attitude but was more worried about his girlfriend.

“You need to eat some carbs…” (Y/N) mumbled. 

“She’s probably just doing some fad diet,” Warren reassured her. 

“I dunno…” 

Warren shrugged and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “There’s no harm in eating macaroni… and no matter what you do, you’ll always be healthier than Peter.”

“Oh god, yeah,” (Y/N) jokingly grimaced. No offense to Pete’s lifestyle, but consuming only twinkies and Diet Pepsi would not go down well for Mother Nature, or anyone else. 

“I’m gonna save the rest for later.” (Y/N) went through a cabinet looking for some Tupperware. 

“Alright. Want me to put what we didn’t touch in another container?” 

“Sure.” 

—

The girls all grabbed pink ladies jackets and paid for them. 

“I was thinking we wear all black— heels, shirt, and leggings or maybe like a skirt or something.” 

“Heels?!” Jubilee shrieked. “You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna wear heels all night on Halloween.” 

“It’s just for pictures,” Jessie reassured her. “And besides, you’ll kick them off at the door anyway.” 

“Why would I wanna roam around barefoot at a party?” 

“(Y/N)‘s barefoot all the time. To feel one with nature.” 

(Y/N) furrowed her brows, eyes orange. “No, I’m not. I rarely ever do that…” 

Jessie held up her hands in surrender, “Well, I heard it from Nancy Robinson…”

“She’s wrong… I told her I connect easily with plants.” 

“She must have misunderstood.” 

(Y/N) nodded, unsettled. 

“Do you guys wanna go to the mall? There’s this cute little black dress at Forever 21 I wanna get for Halloween.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I need to get some more foundation at Sephora,” Jessie stated. 

“Good, cause we were going anyway.” Jubilee joked threateningly. Jessie and (Y/N) laughed. 

As they walked around the Sephora, Jubilee scanned the isles for blue eyeshadows in different shades. 

“Kurt asked me to do his makeup for Halloween. He wanted some 70s glam rock.” 

“You’re gonna do a great job!” (Y/N) told her. 

“For sure— I’m also doing Warren’s and Peter’s too.” 

“They’re all going to look great. I hope we can get a group photo of them before they get all sweaty and tired out.” 

Jubilee nodded, smiling, while she placed all her items on the counter to be rung up. 

“Why didn’t Warren ask you to do his makeup?” Jessie asked. 

“Oh, uh… I dunno.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I’m not very good at super dramatic glittery looks.” 

“I’m just surprised he didn’t ask you, is all. I thought he would’ve, considering you’re dating.” 

“I mean, he’ll probably ask to borrow my mascara or something... It’s not a big deal.”

Jessie raised her eyebrows in questioning before paying for her foundation. “If Scott was going to wear makeup, I’m sure he’d ask Jean to do it for him.” 

“Scott would just want an excuse for his face to be inches away from Jean’s face, and for her to constantly be gazing into his eyes and glancing at his lips. Until they finally break the tension and spend the whole time making out, and Scott’s still not even wearing any makeup by the end.” Jubilee states. 

“That’s very specific… Also, don’t they kind of do that already, anyway?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Yeah,” Jubilee chuckled. 

“Still, I don’t know why Warren didn’t ask you.” Jessie interrupted. “Maybe you should ask him.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah, uh, I— I might.” 

—

Warren was lounged on (Y/N)’s bed, focusing on a textbook assignment. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to do your makeup?” 

Warren looked up. “Hmm?”

“Jubilee said you asked her to do your makeup for Halloween… I could’ve done it.” 

“Oh, uh, I mean Kurt asked her to do his, and then Peter asked her, and we both figured why not do mine too? She’s just going to do some eyeliner and highlighter. It’s no big deal.” 

“Oh…” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed purple. 

“Do you want to do my makeup?” 

(Y/N) shook her head, her eyes slightly red and orange. “Never mind… It was stupid… I’m not even that good at makeup…” 

Warren blinked, no longer focused on his homework. “Are you okay?” 

“What? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I mean, if you wanna do my makeup, go ahead. I don’t care. If it’s that big of an issue—“

“It’s not an issue. I was just wondering why you didn’t ask me.” 

“I didn’t think you’d want to do my makeup.” 

(Y/N) pursed her lips. He was kind of right. She really couldn’t have cared less— Halloween was proving to be so stressful already. 

“Yeah…” She mumbled. 

“See, problem solved.” 

A weird feeling of tension filled the air. 

Warren and (Y/N) never fought, and they rarely argued or bickered over things that weren’t Warren’s low self-esteem. 

Despite him saying, “Problem solved.” It didn’t feel that way. 

—

Warren barged into Peter and Scott’s room. Inside were Scott, Kurt, and another kid. 

“(Y/N) and I had an argument—“ Warren glanced at the short blonde guy sitting on Scott’s bed. “Who is he?”

“Warren, this is Bobby. Bobby, this is Warren,” Scott introduced. “Bobby’s new, he’s a freshman, and we’re kind of the only guys his age, so he’s just hanging out with us.” 

“Hi,” Bobby awkwardly waved at Warren. 

He waved back, “Hey.” 

“Anyway— what happened with you and (Y/N)?”

Warren sat down on Peter’s bed. “We got into an argument about the dumbest thing…”

Kurt squinted his eyes in confusion, “That’s not— you guys don’t do that… Or is that a normal thing for most American couples? All the fighting and yelling.”

“Okay, first off Blue, you need to stop watching sit-coms with Jean and Jubilee where the middle-aged suburban couple’s hate each other’s guts. Second, we weren’t yelling, and it wasn’t really a fight fight, but there was uncomfortable tension.”

The other three boys were focused solely on Warren, waiting for him to explain more. 

“She like got mad I didn’t ask her to do my makeup for Halloween, but then she wasn’t mad and said she didn’t even want to do my makeup. And like we settled it, but I still felt weird afterward. Almost like we didn’t settle it.” 

Kurt was baffled, unsure of what to say. Scott was taking a moment to formulate a good response, but before he could even open his mouth, Bobby spewed some words of… wisdom.

“(Y/N)— I’m assuming you guys are dating, right?” Warren nodded. 

“Okay… (Y/N) doesn’t care about who’s doing your makeup. She’s upset over something else but is using the makeup as a cover-up. She doesn’t want to admit she’s upset over… whatever she’s upset over, but she’s upset, so little things like, you not asking her if she’d do your makeup, are going to make her like, really mad, even if it seems like they shouldn’t or ordinarily wouldn’t.

You have to get her to talk, or find out from one of her girlfriends, what’s really upsetting her.” 

The other boys left their mouths gaping, blinking in shock. 

“You’re like, fourteen, why’d you give such good advice?” 

Bobby shrugged, “My parents fight a lot. They need a divorce, but they’ll never get one.” 

“I was gonna tell you to apologize…” Scott sheepishly admitted.

“Apologize for what?” 

“I— I don’t know…” 

“She said she was stressed out about Halloween…” Warren confessed. 

“There you go—“ Bobby exclaimed. “—She’ll be fine. Don’t even worry about the little lovers’ quarrel you guys had.” 

Warren nodded, feeling a little bit better about the situation.

He still wanted to talk to (Y/N), though. 

—

“Hey, Jubes!” 

“Oh, hey, Jessie. I was just headed to Bio, what’s up?”

“I heard, a few freshmen girls are going as Pink Ladies for Halloween—“

“And?” Jubilee hugged her binder tight in her arms. 

Jessie huffed, “We just can’t go as the same thing as some freshmen girls!” 

“Why not? Halloween is in two days! We can’t just change our costumes at the last minute.” 

“Jubes, we’ll look like freshmen. We can’t have that!” Jubilee opened her mouth to object, but Jessie didn’t let her. 

“(Y/N), and I already agreed we should switch. We’re going to go as the plastics from Mean Girls.” Jessie’s voice had shifted to sound like Rachel McAdams. “I’m gonna be Regina, and (Y/N) will be Karen.” 

“Okay, that’s fine. I can go return my jacket.” 

“Yeah!” Jessie grinned. “Plus you can wear your shirt that says “On Wednesdays we wear pink! Perfect!” 

Jubilee smiled, “Yeah… Well, uh, I gotta go—“ She motioned to the door. 

“Right! Don’t wanna make you tardy. I’ll see you later!” 

“See ya.” 

Weird, Jubilee thought to herself as she took a seat in Dr. McCoy’s classroom. But not unusual for Jessie, always changing her mind… She’s so wishy-washy on things… Oh well.

—

(Y/N) was quickly trying to finish her makeup and get dressed so she could help the little kids trick or treat. 

Older students could volunteer to take the younger one’s trick or treating until 9, and then if they wanted, they could go to whatever house party the locals from the public school in the area were hosting. 

Luckily for the X-Men, Jubilee was extremely popular with the public schoolers, and they were invited to most house parties.

Ororo had already left, for she had just worn a unicorn onesie she borrowed from Peter. 

“I think this is his sister’s, but hey! It’s comfy.” 

“You look great!” (Y/N) only glanced at Ororo, for she was worried about her own look for the night.

“Thanks, I’m sure you’re going to look great too. Don’t sweat it… you have a half-hour left.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs with the others!” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

The others being Scott, Jean, Kurt, and Warren. Jubilee, Peter, and Jessie had decided to skip the trick-or-treat assist and go straight to partying. 

Warren knocked on (Y/N)’s door, asking if she was ready. 

She opened it and stepped out. 

Warren glanced up and down, checking her out. She looked good. Then again, she always looked good. 

(Y/N) did the same, checking her boyfriend out. Maybe I should have gone as a slutty angel to compensate… Warren looks… hot.

Tight leather pants, a sparkly fringed vest with nothing underneath— showing off his toned abs— his classic, worn-out combat boots, and his makeup. Jubilee did an excellent job with it. 

Her eyes were magenta. 

Warren kissed her cheek. “You look great, babe!” 

“Uh… thanks… um… you— you…”

Warren chuckled, “I look stupid, don’t I?”

“No! No— you look, whatever the opposite of stupid is… Stupidly hot, maybe…” (Y/N) felt like a pile of mush. 

And for what? Warren in tight pants, no shirt, and black lines on his face? That was a regular Tuesday look for him. 

“Maybe?” He teased. (Y/N) avoided eye contact, her eyes a vibrant purple.

Warren intertwined one of his hands with her and kissed her cheek again. “You’re adorable.” 

“Thanks…” 

—

The gang made their way to the party a little after 9. It was in full swing by then, with loud music vibrating the outdoors. It just got amplified as they walked in. 

“I’m gonna look for Peter,” Warren told (Y/N). 

“I’m gonna try to find Jubilee and Jessie, get some group photos.” They parted ways, agreeing to meet up again later. 

(Y/N) got distracted along the way— she danced to the Monster Mash with Jean and Kurt, helped with any trick or treaters that came to the door, (despite it not being her house), and she took a few photos with a group of freshmen also dressed up as pink ladies. 

“Where are they?” 

She spotted Jubilee’s big mop of black curls and quickly made her way over.

“Oh my gosh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

Jubilee and (Y/N) stared at each other, both extremely puzzled.

“Um…”

“Uh…” 

“I thought we were going as pink ladies?”

“I thought we switched to The Plastics.” 

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

Jubilee took a sip from her cup, “Jessie told me you guys agreed on us switching to the plastics cause a bunch of freshmen were going as pink ladies.” 

“She never said anything to me bout going as the plastics. I haven’t seen her in like, two days.”

“What?” Jubilee was beyond confused. 

“Yeah, I thought we were still all going as pink ladies. I even saw the freshmen you’re talking about, and they took photos with me!”

“That’s nice…” 

“Why didn’t you clear this up with me, Jubes?” (Y/N) asked, her eyes slowly turning grey. 

“I thought Jessie did. I was busy trying to scope out a good place to crash and party at.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, “Where is Jessie, anyway?” 

“I think she’s in the kitchen.” 

—

Warren was trying to have fun at the party. He didn’t drink as he did in Germany, so everything just seemed less exciting… but with his friends, they never failed to disappoint. 

He wanted to find Peter so they could get group pictures before a group of girls swarmed Kurt, fawning over his accent, soft blue fur, and gymnast body. Before Scott gave a little pep talk on safety to whichever friends would listen and then run off to make out with Jean in the nearest bathroom. And then he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend. 

He found Kurt, no problem— but finding their Brian and John was proving much more difficult. 

“Maybe Peter shouldn’t have worn a wig. We usually spot him due to his grey hair.”

“Then it wouldn’t go with the costume,” Kurt pointed out. “And the whole group would look out of place.” 

“I guess so…” Warren spotted Scott as they walked into the kitchen. He was talking to the new kid— Bobby— with Jean next to him. “Let’s get Scott.” 

Kurt waved at the group, and they motioned him over. 

“Hey, guys! This is Bobby,” Jean introduced.

“We already met,” Warren explained. “Have you seen Peter?” 

Jean shook her head. 

“I think I saw him—“ Bobby spoke up while filling up a cup from the “monster mix” punch bowl. “He had on a big curly brown wig…?” 

Kurt nodded, “Ja, that’s him!” 

Bobby handed Kurt and Warren cups. Warren sighed quietly to himself. He didn’t want a drink of some mystery liquid. He knew there was probably alcohol— Bobby probably didn’t, though— the kid was a freshman. Warren didn’t have time to refuse it though, for Bobby told Kurt where he last saw Peter, and then— bamf!

Kurt teleported him and Warren to that same place. The backyard. 

Warren felt a little nauseated— he hadn’t eaten anything all night except for a few pieces of candy, and the smell of sulfur was disgusting. 

Peter ran up to them and quickly noticed Warren’s turmoil. 

“Oh, dude! Here— drink up—“ He quickly put Warren’s cup in his mouth and almost forced him to drink up the “monster mix.” 

“Peter—“ Kurt scolded. “That’s not water!”

Peter’s face paled. “Oh shit. Shit! Dude, I’m sorry— I thought— cause you don’t drink—“

“Bobby gave it to me… He doesn’t know any better. I can handle myself. It’s one drink.” 

Peter almost scoffed at the mention of Bobby. “Who invited him?”

“Probably, Scott.” 

“Why?”

“I dunno… Make him feel included, I guess…”

“You good?” Kurt asked Warren. 

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s get Scott… Come on…”

They decided to walk back to the kitchen, like ordinary people.

Bobby was gone, but Scott was still there, along with Jean, and Ororo was there too this time. 

“Did Bobby give you the monster mix?” Peter asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, dude— I had like three cups of it, and I feel a little tipsy— I think— but dude! I’m so sorry—“

“Peter, it’s fine. It just burned a little going down. It was only one drink— I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” 

“Okay…” 

“Hey! You found him.” Jean smiled. “Photo time!” 

Everyone smiled and got into various poses and huddled little groups to take many silly pictures— many of them not even ending up on the group’s Instagrams— but still fun nonetheless. Jean telekinetically held up her phone so that everyone could be included in the pictures. 

Warren could feel himself getting a little tipsy as they kept taking photos, but he ignored it. 

“Oh my god! Warren!” It was Jessie. Not in a pink ladies costume. 

Weird… 

“(Y/N)’s been looking for you— come on, I’ll take you to her.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the kitchen. 

He squinted his eyes, puzzled as to what was going on. 

They were walking upstairs. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Upstairs.”

It was dark. 

Warren couldn’t see the figure in front of him too well anymore.

The highly spiked drink he had was starting to get to him.

The voice sounded like (Y/N)’s. 

“You— You sounded like, (Y/N).” 

She giggled lightly, “I am (Y/N), silly.” 

“Oh.” 

She led him upstairs into an empty room. The lights were off. He still couldn’t see her very well. 

“Angel, baby,” She cooed. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” He went to go and turn on a light, but she stopped him. 

“Leave them off… I wanna have fun tonight…” 

“Oh?” Is she talking about earlier, before we left the mansion? Has she been drinking? I would like to do stuff but—

“Mmhmm…” She kissed his neck and kept kissing him, leading up to his lips. He kissed her back, hands on her until they got near her neck— he wanted to tug on her hair a little, but upon touching it, he realized something was wrong.

He didn’t have time to figure it out, though, for someone opened the door. 

Warren and the other person turned to see who it was. 

It was Jubilee and (Y/N). 

—

“Have you seen Jessie?” (Y/N) asked. 

Her friends in the kitchen eyed her and Jubilee up, confused— weren’t they supposed to go as the same thing for Halloween? 

“Um, she was just here. She said you were looking for Warren, and then they went upstairs.”

Jubilee glanced at (Y/N) nervously. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“Thanks.” (Y/N) and Jubilee headed upstairs to find the two. 

Once they got to the top of the stairs, they walked around, trying to open every door they could to no prevail. 

“Wait— Shh!” Jubilee whispered. She motioned to a door they hadn’t opened yet. 

(Y/N) didn’t waste any time opening the door. 

She wished she did, though.

Because she saw them.

Warren and Jessie, so close together. It looked like they had been kissing moments ago. 

When Warren’s eyes met (Y/N)’s, she felt sick to her stomach. He looked lost, confused even. 

He looked almost terrified. 

—

Warren looked over at the girl who he thought was (Y/N). The light from the open door revealed it was Jessie. 

Warren started internally panicking. He kissed Jessie thinking it was (Y/N)! 

She can change her voice to sound like whoever she wants! How could I think— So stupid of me! 

He looked over at (Y/N), trying to form words to say. Her eyes— they’d turned completely black. He couldn’t tell her iris and pupil apart. They’d never been pitch black before. 

“(Y/N)! Jubilee! Thank goodness! I was looking for you guys—“ 

“No, you weren’t… What’s going on?” 

“Warren’s drunk he thought I was you and he tried to come onto me—“

“No, I didn’t!” (Y/N) glared at Warren meticulously, making him shut up.

“He kissed me! Can you believe it?! He couldn’t tell his own girlfriend apart from me, and he was forceful!” Jessie stepped away from him in “fear.” 

“You’re lying— I would never—“

(Y/N) wasn’t even paying attention anymore. Everyone could see that. 

“I’m going home.” 

“What? (Y/N)—“ 

She glared at Jessie, “Fuck off. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And you—“ She looked at Warren. She felt her heart breaking, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She didn’t know what to think, and she was so tired. “We’ll talk about this later. I’m leaving.” 

“(Y/N)—“ 

—

She took a ride home with the freshmen girls. They didn’t ask why she needed one or why her eyes were all black. 

(Y/N) wasn’t in the mood to answer them anyway. 

How could he do this? It doesn’t feel right! But Jessie— Jessie wouldn’t lie to me. Would she?

She was snapped out of her thought when one of the girls gasped. 

“Look! Look at all the plants! They’re all dead! Even the carved pumpkins are rotting.” 

“Yeah, Lily, that’s what plants do—“

“No, look!” Everyone looked through the car window, shocked by what they saw. 

(Y/N) took one look at the dead plants and started shaking. She didn’t have the strength to bring them back to good health. 

It worried her, but her mind kept focusing on Warren…

—

Jubilee dragged her friends outside to the front yard. She had Jean use her powers to keep them from running off anywhere. 

A few people were watching, but she couldn’t have cared less.

“Okay! What the hell happened? And none of the bullshit you told (Y/N) earlier! I know you took Warren upstairs, Jess. I know you didn’t tell (Y/N) we changed our group costume at the last minute, and I usually don’t say this kind of stuff, and I've held it back for (Y/N)’s sake, especially since she felt bad for you! And asked if you could do a group costume with us.” Jubilee was practically fuming, sparks almost igniting in her hands. 

“You’re kind of a bitch.” 

“Jubilee! Warren tried to fuck me! He was drunk and not acting right, and he started kissing me and stuff!”

“Warren doesn’t drink!” 

Kurt glanced at Peter and Scott before speaking up, “Warren had one drink…”

“Okay? That’s not going to get him shitfaced enough to fuck you!” Jubilee stared at Warren, trying to see if he’d finally speak.    

“I was a little tipsy, and Jessie said you and (Y/N) were upstairs. It got dark, and I thought I heard (Y/N) talking to me, but I think it was just Jess. She started kissing me, and it took me a minute, but I realized it wasn’t (Y/N). Then you guys came in.”

Everyone was in shock about Warren’s side of the story. 

“Isn’t it illegal to lie about this kind of stuff… and to kiss someone without consent?” Kurt whispered to Scott.

“Probably.” 

“He’s lying!” Jessie exclaimed. 

“Jean, read my mind. Read Jessie’s. I’m not lying!”

“He’s a monster! Why should you believe him?!” Jessie spat.

Warren was disgusted by her words. “You tried to fuck me!” 

“And with all your weird questions and comments about their sex life, I’m not surprised you kissed Warren,” Jubilee stated angrily.

“He kissed me back!” 

“He thought you were someone else!” 

“Guys! Shut up!” Jean told them. “I’m trying to focus!” 

She dove into Warren’s mind to see the events play out before her. She did the same when in Jessie’s mind. 

“Warren was telling the truth.”

—

As (Y/N) walked into her room, every plant in there withered and died. 

Typically, she’d fall to the ground and sob for accidentally killing what she practically considered her children, but she felt too numb. She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed. The vines around her bed didn’t even move out of her way. They were lifeless and still, just like her.

(Y/N) was restless trying to sleep. She only slept for about fifteen minutes, and when she awoke, she was covered in ivy… poison ivy. 

Most of the time, when she was restless, she’d grow a watermelon or a pumpkin in her sleep, but this was new. She didn’t want to spread it to Ororo or let her see that she killed all the plants in the room. 

She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down a note for Ororo, telling her what happened and for her to not come in until the ivy went away, and it was safe. 

She quickly tapped the note to the door and locked herself inside. 

The rest of the gang quickly headed home. They didn’t notice all the decaying plants outside. 

Scott parked in the garage. 

“Hey, Kurt…”

“Ja, Ororo?”

“I need to check on some of the plants in the attic. I didn’t have enough time to water them all before we went out. Can you take me up there?” 

Kurt nodded, “Yeah, of course.” 

They were gone in the blink of an eye. 

Everyone else was lingering around, deciding on what to do. 

“I’m going to go talk to (Y/N)—“

A blood piercing scream interrupted Warren’s words. 

“Oh my god! Is that Ororo?” 

“I think so!” 

Jean used her telepathic powers to see what was wrong. 

“All the plants… they’re dead!” 

“Jean, check the fridge. See if the fruits and vegetables are alright,” Xavier instructed.

She opened the fridge, and to her horror, the produce rotted.

“But— I went with Sean and Raven to the grocery store two days ago! It shouldn’t have all gone bad.” Peter was puzzled.

“Do you think it was (Y/N)?” Jubilee asked. 

“I’m gonna go talk to her.” Warren head off to her dorm room. 

He felt so guilty and heartbroken. Even though it technically wasn’t his fault, he felt pathetic for not being able to tell his girlfriend apart from a stranger in the dark. 

He kissed Jessie! Nothing was going to undo that. 

Warren stopped at (Y/N)’s door, about to knock, but he was distracted by the note on it. He removed it off the door and read it. 

“I’m not feeling great right now, and I accidentally grew some poison ivy when I took a nap. I’m trying to get it to go away, but for now, people shouldn’t come in. I don’t want it to spread around. Also, I killed all the plants in our room. They’re going to be fine, but for now, I can’t help them.”

Warren knocked on the door, holding the note in his hand. “(Y/N)?” 

“You can’t come in here.” 

“Can you open the door?” He pleaded. 

“No, you can’t get close to me. The ivy came from me. I don’t want it to spread.”

“I won’t come in.” 

“Warren,” She cried. “Can’t you just wait?!” 

“I want— I need you to know what actually happened.”

It was silent from (Y/N)’s side of the door.

“(Y/N)?...” 

She didn’t respond, but Warren heard her unlocking and opening the door. He took a few steps back to respect her boundaries and commands. 

He took in her appearance. She switched from her pink ladies outfit to some pajamas. She didn’t wash her makeup off makeup, so it smeared all over her face.

Her hair was messy and her eyes… her eyes were pitch black. 

“I went to go look for Peter. I looked in the kitchen and didn’t see him. The new kid— Bobby— he gave me a drink, and I didn’t know how to explain I didn’t want it. Kurt teleported me to the back porch when we got word Peter was outside. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, so I felt a little sick. Peter came over to us and noticed I looked bad and had me force down whatever was in my cup. He assumed it was water or something else non-alcoholic, cause I don’t drink.”

“I was like, ‘this is fine. It’s one drink of vodka, cranberry sprite, some hooch, and like whatever else was in the monster mix.’ Then we took photos in our Queen costumes and goofed around for an hour. I was getting a little tipsy, but I didn’t think it was that bad. Jessie came in, saying you were looking for me. And she just dragged me upstairs. It was extremely dark, and my brain was getting a little fuzzy, and Jessie shifted her voice to sound like yours… She led me into a dark room and said she wanted to like, hook up, or do stuff. I tried to explain to her I’d been drinking, but she started kissing me before I could.” 

(Y/N) stood on the other side of the door, listening inventively to Warren. 

“I kissed her back. Then I realized it wasn’t you— it didn’t feel right— and then you walked in.” 

(Y/N) sighed. She was sure he was telling the truth. Their friends wouldn’t let him come up and see her otherwise. 

“I am so sorry…” 

“Yeah, um… Jessie’s kind of… kind of mean. But like— I just— I got so upset because of a lot of different things. Um, Jessie had been asking and saying stuff about our relationship— saying like, we should have sex after the party, I should hoe it up more, or trying to get me to accuse you of not trusting me cause you didn’t ask me to do your makeup… and I just thought she was being weird or whatever, cause like, those were the vibes she’d given me almost all the time. I never thought she simply wouldn’t like me. Especially since I asked if she wanted to do a group costume with Jubilee and me… and I just—“ (Y/N) scrunched her nose. “I don’t let stuff like that get to me, but… but I’m so inexperienced, and you’re not. I don’t really care if people talk about whatever they do behind closed doors. I don’t care about that… I just don’t want people interpreting that I’m like the Virgin Mary, or there’s a problem in our relationship, cause there’s not. There’s not!” 

(Y/N) started crying. She was crying and shivering, and poison ivy started growing and wrapping itself around her body. 

“I’m not mad at you. I just…” She sighed. 

“...Am I not enough?”

“What?” Warren was confused.

“Would you leave me for her? Or anyone else?”

“No. Never— I should have done more, I shouldn’t have followed her or let myself believe it was you— I’m so fucking stupid.” 

Her voice was stern. “No. You’re not stupid. I just… I just need some time to think and be alone right now.”

“Whatever you want,” Warren nodded timidly. “I’ll tell Ororo she needs to sleep with Jean and Jubilee for the night… Although I doubt she’ll leave the attic.” 

“What happened in the attic?”

“All the plants in the attic died… She’s extremely torn up about it… (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) zoned out a little, her heart was pounding heavily in her chest, she was sweating, quivering, and all she could focus on was how she killed everything. Everything she loved and touched, she destroyed it. She couldn’t control herself, and she was hurting the world around her. She heard Warren yelling her name, but she couldn’t find herself to respond. Her breath was quick and eradicating. 

Warren was trying his best to respect her wishes by not coming to close, but he had to help her. 

“(Y/N)— (Y/N), baby, look at me, look at me,” Warren stepped closer to her. “Sit down, sit down, okay?” He helped her sit down on the ground. She leaned against the right side of the doorframe. 

“Um, I need you to— I need you to focus on my voice. Focus on me, okay?” 

“I just— my entire life—“ She broke into a sob. 

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. The plants are going to be okay. We’re going to get through this. I need you to breathe. Focus on my breathing, okay?” 

“I can’t!” The ivy from her body was overgrowing rapidly, clinging onto Warren. 

“Yes, you can. Just focus, you’re going to be okay.” He put one of his hands on her arm to stop her from shaking. Her muscles tensed at first, but they slowly relaxed under his touch.

“You’re doing good, just breathe in slowly, okay? Copy me—“ Warren slowly inhaled air. (Y/N) tried to copy him, but it didn’t help her out. The ivy kept growing around the two of them, getting tight as it tangled between them. 

Warren had to move closer to (Y/N), to try and make more space. He wrapped his arms around her body. The out of control vines caused his grip to tighten on her. 

The feelings of his arms pressing against her helped (Y/N) focus in on something.  

“(Y/N)? Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Close your eyes and just focus on my voice, okay? Can you do that for me?”  

“I…” (Y/N) felt dizzy and nauseous like it was just piling up inside her. 

Warren coaxed her into slowing her breathing down, but her heart was pounding. Every breath she took felt shaky. 

Yet, the ivy slowed down, wrapping itself around Warren and (Y/N) like old stone walls. 

She was slightly shaking still, but her mind wasn’t getting as overwhelmed anymore.

“Hey, hey… Sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay… the ivy stopped. It’s okay.” 

“It— it did?” 

Warren nodded, “Uh, huh. Everything’s going to be alright.” (Y/N) slowly stopped shaking and buried herself into Warren’s chest. 

“Do you want to get some water or maybe take a shower?” 

“Um, yeah, but I can’t— I can’t get rid of the poison ivy… Like I can’t—“

“That’s okay. We can just leave it.”

“Oh, okay…” 

“Let’s go shower in my room, okay?” 

She nodded. 

“Can you walk, okay?” He asked her. 

“Um, I think— I don’t know— I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, no, no, no. It’s okay. I can carry you.” 

Warren carefully scooped her up in his arms. He looked at her once over before heading to his room. 

He set her down on the edge of his bed. “Do you want me to help you get undressed?” 

“I can do it.” She answered in a small voice. 

Warren nodded, “Okay, I’m gonna get undressed too.” 

Warren didn’t face her as he stripped off what little clothing he had on and threw it in a small pile. 

“Is it okay if I take my underwear off?” (Y/N) nervously asked. 

“Yeah, we’re going to shower. It’s okay.” 

(Y/N) left her clothes on Warren’s bed. She slowly got up, and Warren quickly rushed to her aide. She used him for support as they walked into his bathroom. 

He turned the shower on and let it heat up for a minute before stepping in. 

(Y/N) leaned against Warren’s chest as the water rained on them both. 

“Is the water warm enough? Is it too hot?” 

“It’s fine,” She mumbled. 

Warren nodded, understanding she didn’t really want to talk. 

He grabbed his shampoo from the edge of the tub and poured some into his hands. Warren rubbed his hands together before massaging the shampoo into (Y/N)’s hair. It was hard to rake through, her hair was thick and tangled, but he tried his best. 

He applied a little conditioner to her ends. (Y/N) hummed against his chest. 

He chuckled to himself, “You asleep?”

“Mhmm…” She half-heartedly replied.  

“Wanna go to bed?” He asked. (Y/N) nodded, and Warren felt it against his chest.

He washed the conditioner out of her hair and turned the water off. 

He grabbed a towel and helped (Y/N) dry off. When he finished, (Y/N) sat on the edge of the tub and watched Warren dry off. 

His eyes caught (Y/N)’s in the mirror. She looked better than before, a bit more relaxed, but still nervous. 

“I’m really sorry for what happened at the party…”

“I’m sorry about… you know…” 

Warren nodded, “Yeah, um, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. And, and I’m here for you— always. If you want to talk about it, or not.”

“Same goes for you.” 

Warren nodded, “Yeah, yeah, um, let me get us some clothes.” Warren stepped out of the bathroom for a moment. 

He gave (Y/N) one of his much larger sweatshirts without holes in the back and a pair of boxers. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, um, these are fine. Thanks.”

Warren nodded and stepped out of the bathroom again, so (Y/N) could get dressed in private. 

Warren was planning to sleep on the floor for (Y/N)’s sake, as not to make her uncomfortable, but she objected to it.

“I… I don’t want to be alone.” 

“I’m right here,” Warren was quick to wrap (Y/N) up in his arms, having them both get under the blankets on his bed. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re safe…” 

“Promise?” She asked, looking up at him. Her eyes weren’t entirely black anymore, but they were very gray. He could have sworn they were pink for a moment, but they were just grey. 

“I promise.” 

(Y/N) was reassured by his words and snuggled into Warren’s chest. His wings wrapped around them, almost like a cocoon. 

“Can… Can you kiss me, please?” (Y/N) asked. “Just like, my forehead or something…” 

“Of course.” Warren laid a small kiss on the top of her head before whispering, “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Angel.”

[fakeloveaskblog]

Patty have you ever asked Janus to join for dinner when you meet him? Maybe that can somehow help Logan with his flirting? Or at least get Janus more relaxed?

(btw you're adorable ily!!)

(*cracks knuckles* Oh yeah baby we’ve gotten to the angst. Words: 2364 )

Patty: ": D Oh hello lil magical bird who just talked to me! I love you too!! I didn't want to barge in too much into their relationship but now when my honeypie has asked him out once already I guess I can help just a bit!"

Patty had sunglasses on to look like a secret agent. This was an important step in her plan, she swore on it. She sneaked into the open library while chuckling to herself.

She glanced around and almost immediately caught her eye on Janus standing in the reception. She did a few sneaky walks between the bookshelves before sliding up to him.

"Hello Janister!" She greeted with a bright smile while putting her elbows on the reception to lean closer.

"Hiya PatPat. Logan is off helping a customer but he'll be back soon"

"Oh silly I'm not looking for him right now. I am actually here to ask if you could come over to our place tonight. You see I'm planning on making Jambalaya but I always make too much! I'm talking leftovers up to the roof!! But if a third person was there maybe I would be able to make a perfect amount" She lied. She was making jambalaya for Janus purposes alone!

Janus' heartrate shot through the atmosphere "To- me?- your place?- tonight?- I uh- I don't know if I have time-"

She pouted and did her puppy eyes "You sure? You don't have to if you don't want to!! But it would be nice!"

He let out a happy sigh "Sure"

She took his hand and let out a sqeaul "aaah Great! It'll be so fun!!"

---

Logan was leaning down so Patty could help him with his bowtie. "Are you completely sure I look adequate?" He asked.

"Oh honeybee, You look super duper ultra adequate. You're literally wearing a sweater with a math pun on it!!"

"Hmm sound argument. I can not deny the sexiness of math puns"

A knock came on the door. The couple stared at each other. Logan stimmed out of nervousness. Patty gave him a quick kiss before pointing between him and the door. They did a good luck high five.

Logan combed his hair back and leaned on the wall to look cool as he opened the door. Janus stood on the other side looking like a sardine that had just been pressed into a can.

He had on a purple vest with embroidered flowers details and with a long sleeved black button up under. Also a very funky pair of stripped pants with even funkier yellow snake socks under.

"Greetings Jan. You are looking" Like a dream. Like someone he wanted to kiss right this moment. "Very good"

"Aww are you trying to be a snake charmer Log-boy" Janus replied with a smirk.

"I am not a log or a boy. I'm an adult man made out of meat"

"You better be because I'm starving" He had downed 2 shots of vodka before coming to try to and cool his extreme anxiety. He was a lightweight.

Logan lead him into the living room "Are....Are you implying cannibalism?"

Janus shrugged while smiling.

The apartement truly did look like a mismatch of the couple's personalities. The walls were filled with maps of constellations and uplifting cat posters. On the bookshelfs cook books and travel books were stacked next to thick philosophy books and essays. The decorations were either cute porcelain animals, magical anime girl figurines or figurines of characters from Lo's different hyperfixations. The sofa was filled with fluffy blankets and pillows and stuffies were scattered around the light blue carpet filling the living room.

“Do you want to watch star trek while eating?” Logan asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“As long as I get to watch your beautiful face as well” Janus flirted back while doing an unsteady fingergun.

“Oh- Of course” His crush’s sudden forwardness was making his heart flutter.

Janus curled up in the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible. Logan sat down pretty far away from him.

He started the first episode. Janus had a constant smile on his face as he listened to Logan go between telling him facts and gushing over his favorite moments. All while he could hear Patty in the kitchen half singing along to dad rock.

“Does she want help with that?” Janus, known gentleman and also nervous wreck, asked.

“She’ll tell us if she need it. She likes cooking. I like baking. It usually works out”

Janus got an amused look on his face “You’re into baking? So all those times at work when you brought desserts, that was your making?”

“Yes. And they were delicious. Anything wrong with that?”

“No. No. I simply didn’t take you for the type”

“Well cooking involves creativity and there’s room for your own ideas. Baking doesn’t. It is only about following a structure and doing kitchen chemistry. Of course I love it” He lowered his voice “It is also tremendously good for when you need to flirt without words”

“Oh really? I better start looking up recipes then” He pulled in Logan's bowtie “You have any favorites?” 

In his head he had the guts to say ‘Your lips against mine would be my favorite’ in reality he said “HehuHFKdjf jam drops in the shape of heart. The heart part is important. It adds to the taste”

“It usually does”

Janus slowly looked him up and down. And then he realized what the fuck he was doing. He shot back into his corner of the sofa like a naked rat. Logan sat still with blushing cheeks, staring at the tv but not taking in anything that was happening except his racing heart.

“Done!” Patty exclaimed, coming in with a big ass fucking pot of jambalaya and a just as big bottle of wine.

She saw the nervous state both of the guys were in and quickly made up a plan. She slammed the pot down onto the coffee table and moved the blankets so they took up about half of the couch. Then she sat down using up as much space as possible leaving the guys no choice but to move closer to each other, If both of them sat their hands down they would touch.

Patty cuddled up to her husband with a proud smile on her face. Logan moved his arm around her. 

“It looks great sweetheart” He pressed a kiss to her cheek making her giggle.

“So do you!! And so does mr. star trek captain man!”

 She enjoyed the hell out of her jambalaya while the two idiots sent each other awkward smiles. Janus downed his glass of wine in record speed. (He took it slower with the food, he didn’t want to seem disgusting). 

The whole star trek episode went by. Logan asked Janus a thousand excited questions about how much he liked it. All of his answers made the nerd happy stim. They put on a documentary none of them were really interested in the background while continuing to chat. Patty went on a long epic story about how a kid at her daycare had tried to bite her finger off last week.

“Soooo” Patty sudenly changed the topic. She said it with an innocent tone “My nerdy lil honeypie over here had the biggest crush on Data for a while. It was adorable. ANd while we’re on the topic” The look she gave Janus was happy but it still sent shivers down his spine “You having any crushes lately? Just curious!”

Both of the men internally gasped at the audacity. The gall! The sheer power!! Janus was sweating like a naked rat who had just been clad for the first time.

“...Well.......I have actually been meaning to....Ask about the polyamourous thing?” 

The couple exhanged knowing glances before looking back at him “Mhm yeah Mhm” “I am poly and also a thing so I am an expert in this”

“So...I totally haven’t fallen in love with 3 people. 2 of which I met in the span of around a week”

Patton did a double thumbs up. Logan took a long sip from his wine. “We’re all gossipy bitches here. Tell all about it”

“Well. The first one is Remy-”

“The one with the sunglasses?”

“...Yes...Are....Don’t tell me they’re a serial killer”

Patty broke up into a chuckle “Logie-bogie tried to kiss them while he was drunk once”

“I threw up on their shoes”

“He threw up on their shoes!”

Logan saw the terror in Janus’ face as he worried that maybe 2 of his crushes were exes and quickly added “We are only acquaintance and I was momentarily struck by the impressive lenght of their legs” 

Janus went on to gush about Remy and Remus. Why he loved them. All the dates he had daydreamed about. And then finally his voice was shaking when he mentioned just having a third crush.

Patty let out a long yawn before he could say anything more. She stood up “Well looks like it’s time to snooze! I assume 2 big burly ultra masculine men like you two can handle the dishes”

“It will be a challenge but we shall do our best. Goodnight honey” Logan kissed her.

She leaned in and whispered “Good luck Logie-bear! You got this”

She giggled mischievously while going off into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her. Only the two lovebirds were left now.

“So the third crush? Who’s the lucky gentleman?” Logan asked.

Janus held onto his newly refilled wine glass so hard it nearly cracked. He forced a smile “Wouldn’t you want to hear about the fake couples counseling I go to together with Remus instead?”

“Fake what now?”

“Well me and Remus, who I am hopelessly in love with even though he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, started going to a therapist pretending we were a couple to see how long it would take before he realized we didn’t know each other. He hasn’t realized anything yet. It’s great!”

It looked like Logan’s eyes was about to bulge out of his skull “That sounds illegal. It should be. You are dragging shame onto the face of psychology you double dumbass!”

“I have done nothing wrong ever in my entire life and frankly I deserve to waste even more therapist’s time” Janus replied.

He let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose “Which therapist is it that you’re harassing exactly?”

“Dr. Picani”

Logan’s eyes widened and he shut his lips tightly “Emile Picani?”

“Yes.....Please don’t tell me he’s a serial killer”

He slowly looked away while taking a sip from his wine “I have had intercourse with that man”

Janus choked on his drink. He coughed while staring at his friend with wild eyes “YOU FUCKED MY THERAPIST????”

“No.......He fucked me” Logan replied in a quiet tone. “Besides he’s not even your real therapist”

“He is still a sort of therapist man to me! I told him I enjoy Lana Del Rey. That was a very intimate moment for me!”

“Well I had a very intimate moment with him too”

Janus looked at him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. He let out a chuckle which turned into a laugh which turned into Logan not being able to not laugh along which turned into the room filling with nothing but flustered happiness and laughter.

Logan grabbed onto his crush’ arm just to have some contact with him while his eyes teared up from laughter. Janus leaned his head against his shoulder and curled up close to him while giggling so much his stomach hurt.

“Oh we’re idiots” Janus sighed.

“We are. We truly are”

They stayed sitting like that. So so close. Logan’s arm around him. Janus breathing being felt against the other man’s skin. Their hands touching. Only comfortable silence surrounded them.

A few minutes went by. Janus looked at him shuly. His thoughts worrying about everything and anything “Should we- ehm- the dishes?”

The moment broke. Logan moved away before standing up “I uh yeah- we should”

It was strange. Just dishing together with his crush made Logan happy. All he could think about was getting to be this close, this domestic, with him every day. Getting to wake up next to him. Kiss his knuckles. Share a morning with him.

“Who was the third crush by the way?” Logan asked, glancing over at his crush.

Janus stared down into the water “I- I can’t say it”

“Understandable”

He stopped and turned fully to look at Janus. He had never been more unsure of where to put his hands before.

“Well I can...Say it I mean....I....I...Janus.....You make me happy just by being near me...You are so wonderful...I....I love you”

Logan couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He took a step forward and cupped Janus’ cheeks. He leaned forward, so close, so close that their noses and foreheads were pressed against each other. It felt like had been starving for this.

Janus froze. His wide eyes stared in shock at the other man. His hand moved up to his chest on instinct, to try and push him away.

Logan noticed his reaction. Of course he did. It was blindingly obvious. He forced himself to move away. He forced the desire to kiss him to simmer out.

“I-I’m sorry-” He mumbled out.

“No....Lo..” Janus took his hand. Holding it so so lightly in his own “I know” He looked up at him “I know. I’m sorry. I should go”

A horrible feeling of guilt filled Logan’s throat “You don’t have to” 

“I should go” He repeated, letting go of his hand.

Logan walked after him as he went to get his jacket “A date. Do you want to go on a date? Not just a hangout. Janus I- I want so badly to be close to you. We could go to the zoo, look at the snakes?”

Janus held his hand on the handle of the door. He didn’t look at Logan “Thanks for having me over”

He left. Logan stood alone in the hallway. His arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,945 Words

Summary: Five worried members of class 1-B and a day off for the hero courses.

Warnings: Cursing, Injury Mention, Caps, Death Mention, Broken Bone Mention, Panic Attack Mention, Abuse Mention, Disownment Mention, Blood Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison  Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 4

2:55 PM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: @feral cat dad @gay salt @farmer toshi @foil-mecha @ranch flavored jello

nat20: Are you guys okay? There was an announcement for all available staff to come to the USJ asap. Isn't that where you are?

nat20: Guys?

nat20: I get that y'all are training but can one of you answer? I'm getting worried.

nat20: Akemi, sis, you better fucking answer me.

3:00 PM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: Akemi, this is breaking law three of being half-siblings. Getcha ass in the chat and fucking respond to me or I'm taking a protective quirk and coming down there myself.

saviour: You will do no such thing. Clearly it's dangerous since the announcement was directed toward all available teachers. That doesn't sound normal to me, even if someone had been just injured. Seiko, it's best to try to make things decently safe for their return instead of hound a response.

life is a nightmare: Six different news sources say that three unidentified people were admitted to a hospital nearby UA, said to have been transported from the USJ, which was attacked this morning by an unidentified villain, the attack being resolved by UA's pro hero staff members only ten minutes ago. Two more people were injured and are supposedly in Recovery Girl's office.

nat20: AKEMI @gay salt

gay salt is now online

ranch flavored jello is now online

foil-mecha is now online

gay salt: I'm back, Seiko. I'm fine. Almost everyone is fine.

nat20: Five people are hurt!

ranch flavored jello: Yeah, all three pros were hurt.

nat20: Which students got hurt!?

foil-mecha: I think you already know what you're suspecting, Seiko.

nat20: No. No, he's not dead. If Shinsou's dead, I'll personally bring him back to life to scream at him. My little brother isn't dying dammit.

gay salt: Not dead, mon dieu. Shinsou is severely injured but he isn't dead.

nat20: Who else is hurt? That green kid again?

ranch flavored jello: Yeah, Midoriya's hurt again. To be fair, he wasn't thinking about how he was using his quirk, just that he was using it period.

foil-mecha: Hold on, they're calling on Aizawa and Shinsou's condition, I'll do a video chat with you guys.

foil-mecha has started a video chat

The bones in his arms are splintered and he's got facial fracturing. Fortunately there doesn't seem to be any serious brain damage. But his orbital floor has been almost completely destroyed. We have no way of knowing if his eyesight will be impaired or not once he's healed. -Unknown

Well, you heard the man. -Unknown

Sir, what about Thirteen? -Unknown

No need to worry there, despite some pretty bad lacerations to the back, Thirteen is gonna pull through good as new. And AllMight is also without any serious injuries. He's in the nurse's office right now. Recovery Girl's power should be all that he needs.-Unknown

What about Deku!? -Unknown

How's Midoriya? -Unknown

Midoriya? Oh, Recovery Girl was taking care of him too. He's fine.-Unknown

How is Shinsou!? -nat20

Who was that? -Unknown

My half-sibling, we both live in the dorms with Shinsou and Aizawa. They're worried about them. So is the rest of the class 1-B students that live in the dorms with us. -gay salt

Shinsou has a mild concussion, a severe bruised nasal bone, and his jawbone was fractured so he needs to have his jaw wired shut for a bit until he's back to being strong enough for Recovery Girl to heal him. He should be better in about a week or two.-Unknown

What the fuck happened to him that he got that badly hurt? -life is a nightmare

During the villain attack, Shinsou decided to fight alongside Mr. Aizawa. against the villains and this big monster thing was hurting Mr. Aizawa and this creepy guy was about to hurt Asui, Mineta, and Midoriya. -ranch flavored jello

Call me Tsu. -Unknown

Tsu, Mineta, and Midoriya. But Shinsou got the creepy guy to respond to him with the mist guy's voice and he brainwashed him. Then the monster hit his face into the ground really hard. But he covered Mr. Aizawa with his own body and got his face hit down again. -ranch flavored jello

Shinsou was really out of it, ribbit. He was calling Mr. Aizawa his dad.-Unknown

Tsu, Mr. Aizawa legally adopted Shinsou as of 8 o'clock this morning. -ranch flavored jello

I'm gonna hang up, we're all gonna head back. I'll visit you Seiko. -gay salt

You better. -nat20

gay salt has ended the video chat

2:40 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi is now online

farmer toshi: WHY CANT I TALK WHATS HAPPENING WHERE AM I

life is a nightmare: Shit, I'll shadow over, hold on, Shinsou.

2:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

life is a nightmare: shinsousleepingagainsther.jpg

life is a nightmare: Guess I'm claiming he's my boyfriend when they ask why I'm here because I can't even shadow out right now without waking him up.

gay salt: rip to you, Kageya, but me and Seiko need our beauty sleep.

nat20: so go to sleep, Kageya, you need to sleep.

2:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

saviour: I'm pre-making some easy meals since they both have facial damage and need softer foods.

farmer toshi: What are you making?

saviour: Well, I have Seiko working on frozen smoothie bags. Kiyomi is helping precook some vegetables and stuff that can be blended down to baby food consistency. Pony's really good at making homemade juice so she's making you juice with lots of protein and stuff so you don't loose too much weight and set your progress back.

ranch flavored jello: Me, Akemi, and Fumikage are making soft food for you both once Toshi gets his wires off. We've been making a lot of soup. We may have gone overboard.

ranch flavored jello: So far we have chicken soup, broccoli and cheese, potato soup, split pea soup, egg drop soup, cheese soup, soft curry, corn chowder, turkey rice soup, ham chowder, cheeseburger soup, creamy meatball soup, chicken cordon bleu soup, chicken pot pie soup, and and miso soup.

farmer toshi: You guys are so sweet. Thank you so much. I wish I could hug you guys right now but they want me in the hospital today for observation.

gay salt: I expect a hug when you come home.

feral cat dad is now online

nat20: DAD'S BACK!

feral cat dad: Hello, dorm children. This is Mr. Yamada, Mr. Aizawa told me to tell you all thank you for making him and Hitoshi food for when they come back on Friday.

pure: It was nothing! We want to help them get better as fast as possible and, to do that, we need to keep them healthy!

feral cat dad: I'll add myself so Shouta can have his phone back.

feral cat dad has added Yamada

farmer toshi has changed Yamada's name to President Megaphone

nat20: Wow, you don't waste a second, do you?

farmer toshi: I didn't when I was attacking villains in the USJ.

schrodinger better run: What happened in there, by the way? My phone went missing yesterday and the day before and I finally found it last night.

farmer toshi: Well, you see, some wannabe criminals calling themselves the League of Villains teleported themselves into the USJ just before we were about to start training and our communal father figure was about to go fight them and all my instinct just told me to follow him so I did.

President Megaphone: Kid, you really don't have to tell them just because you live with them.

farmer toshi: These are basically my adopted siblings, Mr. Yamada. Of course I want to tell them.

farmer toshi: Anyway, so I was fighting thugs and Dad had already gotten to this "Shigaraki" dude who was like their leader or whatever and the fucker decayed his right elbow and I was trying hard to get to him but the fucking cronies wouldn't let me by them.

farmer toshi: Then this huge fucking monster grabbed Dad and hit him into the ground and broke his arms. That thing couldn't be human, it's brain was out and it was like 9 feet tall.

farmer toshi: That Shigaraki fucker spoke to me. I can't even remember what about, but he was mocking me, I can tell. But the teleporter told him they needed to leave because Iida had made it out by that point.

farmer toshi: So this fucker tries to decay either Midoriya, Asui, or Mineta to "break AllMight". But I used the teleporter's voice to brainwash him and that monster hit my head into the ground like he did with Dad for brainwashing its friend.

farmer toshi: I knew Dad was out because the thing had hit his head into the ground again and knocked him out and that thing would try to hurt him again if I didn't do something. So I put myself on top of him because I couldn't lose a Dad I just finally got. But the monster hit my head down again.

farmer toshi: I had finally managed to get up to get me and Dad out of there when AllMight showed up. AllMight put us on a stair landing and I had to get up the rest of the way. Another villain tried to get us while I was getting him up there to get out but I just stabbed her and pushed her down the stairs.

farmer toshi: Mind you, I was running on adrenaline this whole time. So, when the UA teachers came in, I was pretty numb emotionally because I was basically out of steam but I wanted to get Dad out of there so I kept going until Sero and Uraraka helped me up the rest of the stairs while the teachers got there.

farmer toshi: I'm pretty sure Snipe is who caught me but then I just passed out and woke up in the hospital not being able to speak and had a panic attack.

feral cat dad: I've figured out speech to text and I appreciate what you did for me, Hitoshi, but I was worried about you when that thing had me. I don't want you dying to protect me.

farmer toshi: Trust me, I don't plan to nearly die again. The headache was killer and I'd rather never experience that again.

feral cat dad: Good. Now, make sure you rest, kids.

2:15 AM

private chat with Bakugou and Yamada

Bakugou: Look, I know it's late, but my mother kicked me out and she's disowned me because she now wants me to drop from UA and I won't do it. I need somewhere to stay and I know Aoyama and them were talking about dorms yesterday after the USJ incident.

Yamada: It doesn't matter if it's ideal. Head to the school, I'll come get you inside and we'll go for your stuff from your parents' house tomorrow after school and I'm putting a rush order for emergency UA protection for your custody right now.

Bakugou: I think I need Recovery Girl, she got my arms pretty bad. I'm losing blood like crazy and I can barely grab things to keep going but my leg is sprained so I need help moving.

Yamada: We can worry about healing injuries once you're here. Until then, just be safe and get here as fast as you can. If you can't make it here, then I'll come get you.

Yamada: Just keep responding, little listener. How bad are your injuries?

Bakugou: bloodyleftarm.jpg

Bakugou: bloodyrightarm.jpg

Bakugou: sprainedknee.jpg

Bakugou has sent their location

Yamada: Fuck.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

[danifics18]

↪  Into the Unknown  ↩

being awoken on a beach shore not knowing where you were was a scary thing, it was even scarier realizing you weren’t in the world you were meant to be in. with no recollection of your past life besides the backpack with a few of your items, the only thing you could do was adapt, and so that’s what you did.

Tags : Pirate! Ateez // OC Reader // Dark Themes of Death, Prostitution and Slave Trading // Themes of Deities and Spirituality // Alternate Universe // Eventual OT8xReader???

A/N : This is my first attempt at a multi-fic, and I’ve had this thought in my head for a while. The world that this takes place in is different than our own, although, time-wise is very similar to our 17th Century. My OC does have two names Adrie/Adrian, seeing that she does conceal her identity for a while Adrie is pronounced like A-Dree. I know most people would pronounce it as Audrey, but I’m trying to make the names make sense to use them that similarly. The next chapter will be a bit more fast paced, and will actually have a sign of the boys, so stay tuned!

As always, let me know about any mistakes I may have made, anything I should tag if i haven’t already, or let me know what your thoughts are !!

Word Count : 4416

    General Masterlist    Ateez Masterlist   

   Into the Unknown Masterlist

    Next Part

One.

Sometimes I didn’t know if this was just some fucked up nightmare that my mind was tricking me to believe, or if I just had the worst fate ever. As much as I appreciate Dorian, and all the years he put into making sure I would actually grow up in a normal environment, I do wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t found me.

It was obvious that I wouldn't have made it out alive. A random fourteen year old, covered in pruned skin, and a sun bloated body found being washed up on the beach after a particularly bad storm. That enough would've made people suspicious, but to find out that kid was a woman as well? Witchcraft. I wouldn’t even be able to plead for a different outcome, I would’ve been killed in the courtroom.

Thankfully, no one really questioned when Fisherman Dorian Meadows started to bring a new face to the village, claiming that the boy is his son from a different island he frequented. Well not really everyone, his sister and town merchant Arcelia Meadow, knew better. She knew her brother was still heartbroken over the loss of his wife Gilda and son Augie, although their deaths had happened at least twenty years prior. So she knew that this new boy wasn’t biologically his anyways, deciding that she would offer support if he needs it, but would otherwise separate herself from the small boy in case he was bad news.

It took a while for me to really get my footing on learning how to live here on the island of Reindall. Not only from living in a new place, but also learning how to live as a boy. When Dorian had found me it was very obvious that I was just some really skinny kid who hadn’t hit the age of maturity yet. I hadn’t developed any curves or anything that most people would expect to see if they saw a woman. And I didn’t have any signs of sprouting facial hair, or deepened voice that you’d expect from a man. I just looked like a pretty faced child that could pass off as either sex, with green mid shoulder hair. At first, it even took Dorian by surprise when I had asked him why he kept calling me “boy”. I didn’t know if it was just one of this places customs to call all kids “boy”, regardless if they were or not, or if that was his way of speech. And with a paled face, he quickly stepped away from the pot of stew he was tending, and gave me a choice that changed my life forever. Present as a woman and have a difficult life on this island, or present as a man- and even though it would still be difficult, it wouldn’t be difficult in the same way. I wasn’t happy with choosing to present myself as a male, but even though I didn’t quite catch on to what Dorian had meant, I didn’t like the unsaid implications even more. And with that, I was given some old, patchy, oversized clothes that stank like coal and fish, and was given the name of Adrian- opposed to my actual name, Adrie.

Within the first week of me living on this island, I realized that Dorian was shit at explaining things, and he was also shit at keeping his emotions in check.His over all attitude felt vaguely familiar to me, a grumpy old man who would rather just do the thing himself rather then explain to someone else how to do it. He didn’t want to immediately send me off to work for some random person, knowing that I was probably useless, so instead he instructed me to spend the days chopping wood for fire, and taking care of his pet chickens and goats that were kept in separate pens on the side of the cottage. It took days for me to even be able to swing the ax hard enough to split wood, before I would always have my aim slightly off, or the ax would bounce off the wooden stump- instead of split it. After noticing I had improved with the wood chopping, he slowly increased the amount he wanted me to do- which ended up being not only for the cottage we were at but his sister’s as well. When it came to the animals, this is where Dorian would be frustrated with me. I could handle the goats, all they would do was headbutt my thighs- leaving some nasty bruises- and chew on my clothes on occasion, but I liked them. The chickens on the other hand scared me. It wasn’t until Dorian got pissed off enough that he just locked me in the pen for a few hours while he went down to the local tavern. That’s when I finally realized that the chickens weren't so scary, and their pecks weren’t too bad.

 As the first few months of me living in Reindall passed by, I developed muscles from chopping wood, building fences, and carrying heavy items for Arcelia- while Dorian would go out to sea to fish. I’d also finally gained some weight, making me look more filled out, which made it even more difficult to hide the fact that I was not a boy. This was, however, the first time I was really able to connect with Arcelia- one of the days I had been finishing the chicken coop she wanted behind her house, she noticed a red patch on my trousers. At first she thought I had hurt myself, until I confessed to her what was really going on. She had quickly let me have a pair of new trousers, and when her brother came over after being done with fishing for the day, she pulled him to the kitchen and they had a long discussion.

From that day forward, she helped me hide identity even better. I was taught to double layer shorts and pants just in case my bleeding started without me expecting it, and to bind my growing breasts anytime I went out. I was also able to convince her to cut my hair off to my jaw, not that men only had long hair, but for the simple fact that building items and having long hair didn’t work well together.

There isn’t very much that I remember before waking up here, but I was told that I had a bag with me. A black bag with two straps and two zipped pouches with a ‘Jansport’ tagged in some type of fake leather. Inside of that bag I had clothes and a journal of some sort. The clothes, while not similar to what is worn here, were sized up so even as I got older, I could still wear them comfortably- although besides the pair of small black stretchy shorts (my double layering shorts) I never found a chance to wear.

The journal however had at least a little bit of information. My name is Adrie Ramona, I was born on April twelfth 1999, I never talked about any siblings, I did write about how my mother let me dye my hair green before I got enrolled into a big school, and apparently I like to travel to villages called ‘Target’- yet I still wanted to go to places such as ‘New York’ and ‘Italy’. The strange thing was the fact that according to the journal, my hair should’ve went back to it’s dark auburn color, and not stay green. Also, according to Dorian, he’s never heard of the places I mentioned, and the dates aren’t comparable to each other. My last recorded date was on September thirteenth in 2013, while the date I was found was on the fifth of Rain’s Hand. The people that Dorian associates with don’t exactly know the year either, seeing that only people of high status were allowed to know- even people like the main maid of the Knight’s Guild, Ms. Ophelia, and the ex-pirate turned fisherman, Eden, were forbidden to know- because it was, as the King puts it “A god’s gift to know so much knowledge of the world” . It wasn’t so much that the people didn’t know how long a year was, they just didn’t know things like how many years the kingdom had been alive and things like that. The most years that the other villagers have recorded was up to one hundred years- which was because the local tavern owner’s father had recorded his life from his childhood onwards, and instructed his children to do so as well.

With only my limited knowledge of my past life, I had no choice but to take up Dorian’s offer of letting me live with him as long as I worked to repay him. Throughout the years of living with him, and working for Arcelia, I learnt how to sew clothes and sails, how to hold myself up in a brawl, how to use herbs and some bandages for first aid, and how to use herbs with other foods to make more flavorful meals along with baking bread. As I got older, Dorian slowly let me have more of a say in what I did, so by the time I was sixteen, I had started my own garden next to Arcelia’s chicken coop, and I would sell my vegetables at the village market.

Eventually, Dorian had to stop working for himself as a fisherman and had to start working under the King’s local fishery, due to how many boats started to go missing because of pirates. It took weeks for Dorian’s stubborn ass to finally decide to join a specific crew though. He would never admit it, but he hated how so many of the fishermen were kiss asses to the King, because they felt they’d get a pay raise. It was very obvious that he was scared that he wouldn’t come back home to see his sister and I, it would be written on his face every morning he gave me a hug before leaving- although he would always claim the opposite. Dorian was always cold and rude, but after getting to know him, I had to learn that it was his way of showing compassion. Which I didn’t like, but I did deal with. I had faith that some day he’d openly start to warm up to me.

 The crew that he joined was named ‘The J.R.’, being named after Captain Eden’s last boat before he got captured. It was a shock that he was never killed, being a pirate and all, but he was given the option of being hung at the Gallows for his crimes, or becoming the main fisherman at the local fishery. With, supposedly, his crew being dead, he decided to become a fisherman, and now he catches the most expensive fish to sell to the King himself. He must’ve been one lucky bastard though. His crew was the only one to not be affected by the pirate raids, every single other crew being raided and killed- sometimes their boats would float back to shore, sometimes only pieces would.

It wasn’t until I’d turned twenty that things started to change. The people on the north side of the island were starting to rapidly die off. It wasn’t hard to tell why. With the amount of crime that had to flourish in order for people in poverty to survive is outrageously high, on top of the Knight’s Guild using those people as someone to pin their personal crimes on. So with the north side citizens along with a lot of fishermen still being picked off, it was no surprise that the island started to run low on supplies. Not enough fisherman to catch fish. Not enough gardeners to aid their vegetables and fruits. Not enough herders to sell their animals. And most important of all, not enough running gold to keep the King happy.

Walking out of the wooden and stone cottage, I see Dorian perched against the wooden fence that surrounds the home.

“Aren’t you guys going out today?” I question as I walk towards him, seeing that he would usually be out by dawn. “No,” he replied before taking a deep breath “Listen, kid,  the King has an announcement today in the village court. If it’s what I think it is, I need you to lay low for a while. There’s no telling what will happen, but it doesn’t seem good. Join Arcelia when she goes, I’ll be joining with Captain Eden.” And with that, he nods at you and walks towards the docks, keeping his eyes low.

As I trudged on the stoned path to Arcelia’s home shop, all you could think about what the King could say. It wasn’t very often that he actually went to a town square himself, he usually sends a courier over who reads on the scroll in an obnoxious loud tone. Kicking a rock and looking up ahead past the trees, I can see the door to Arcelia’s shop door wide open, with what looks like not intention of being closed.

“Huh, that’s not weird at all,” I mutter to myself “Why hasn’t Aunt Arcelia said something?” knowing that with all the food my adoptive aunt sells, she makes it a rule to always have the door shut if no one is coming in or out.  

Jogging up, the sounds of yelling get louder until it was apparent who was making the ruckus. Mathew Roswell, the head knight’s son, and the nephew of the King. Mathew has a reputation of being a spoilt brat to any townspeople who didn’t work under his family, and my family definitely was not exempt. Growing up, I had fought him and his friends way too many times to count- and apparently getting older isn’t going to change the matter.

Walking in through the door, stepping over the clutter of items that looked to be thrown on the ground, a loud slap echos throughout the room, and Arcelia’s head snaps to the side with a red print. I didn’t take much time to think about what to do. Rushing over to big brute, I threw a punch at his jaw, making him stumble down enough for me to continue throwing punches. It wasn’t until one of Arcelia’s frequent customers pulled me off of him that I realized what I had just done. As Mathew and some other kids who were training to be in the Knight’s Guild were running out, Mathew gave me a dirty look and I just knew his father was going to be told. In all honesty, I could’ve been hung for touching that spoilt boy, but for some reason his father usually finds humor in it.

Snapping out of thought, I walk over to my adoptive Aunt to make sure she’s fine.

“Yes I’m fine. Adrian, you really shouldn’t defend me like that. The last thing me or your father need is for you to get yourself killed for messing with the head Knight’s son.” Noticing throngs of people walk by she huffs and says “You are cleaning this mess when we get back, but for now let’s go so we don’t miss whatever news if being brought upon us.”

As we walk through the crowds, I noticed that the Gallows was reassembled in the off center of the town square, right beside the big tree that sits center of the square. It seemed like that was the stage for whoever was giving the announcement. Just as aunt Arcelia and I stop, whispers erupted in the crowd like a wildfire. The King’s court actually came to the town square. With the King’s Head Knight and brother, Kitt Roswell, walking up the stairs to go to the left side of the “stage”, he looks over the crowd with a blank face. Soon enough King Roswell himself walks to the middle of the stage and the whispers die off immediately.

“Good afternoon citizens. This is a brief get together, but one that will aid our island in many ways, so listen. It is an obvious observation to see that as a community, we are not doing well. We have lack of needed supplies and we need some way to get them. Looking upon other island villages, it is clear of what we need to do. Looking at the actions of our neighboring island village, Sternist, we need to make a big sacrifice. Any women who have made it to their matured woman hood are unmarried and do not have needed jobs, need to say goodbye to their families, if they have any, and turn themselves in for the greater good of our people.” The King pauses as gasps fill the air “I know, it is unfortunate, but a lot of people will sell much gold and supplies for women. Thankfully, I am King, and I do think of the greater good of our people, even in these hard times. Knights will be going door to door to collect those who are eligible. Think of it as serving your King. That is all.” And with that, King Roswell and his followers lead back to the Castle.

In the following weeks, there was a big absence of women that were usually in my daily life. The single woman named Mira, who usually blushed as she bought bread from me, would no longer show up. Quite a few mothers left, leaving behind their husbands and children. Even a girl as young as twelve years old met the requirements- and since her parents tried to hide her, they were met with the Gallows as the girl was shipped away. There was a solemn silence in the village after that day.

It wasn’t any easier on Dorian and the crew of ‘The J.R.’. Many men were imprisoned for not following orders of the King. Even more of them died as “traitors” for being against the trading of women. Or even not wanting to take women on board for the fear of their ship sinking. Somehow, even with their friends and acquaintances disappearing, their crew never had to take women. Some people think it’s because the King secretly respects Eden, but I know it’s because Eden and his crew has been the main source of fish coming in lately.

I thought I would’ve been left out of the crossfire of any of this, until Dorian told me that I no longer worked for Arcelia, but I would be working for Eden on the boat instead.

"Why didn't you fuckin' listen to me kid, that's all I ever ask of you, and you don’t do it the one fuckin' time I specifically ask you to," Dorian exclaims, slamming the door open to bounce against the wall " One thing is all I asked for and now I have to find a way to clean up your act"

I back from the pot of stew that was cooking for tonight's dinner, hooking the ladle on a rack, before turning to fully face the enraged- possibly drunken man.

"What are you talkin' about Dorian? I haven't done anything wrong, and we both know it. I've been doing what I always do, and I've been bringing in more coin, just like you asked," I retort, "Whatever your problem is, it can wait until later. Foods almost done; we can talk then."

He steps close, hands flying up to his grayed hair in disbelief "Talk later? Lass. Adrie, we will be lucky if we have the time for dinner at this point. From what Ms. Ophelia was talking, you caused quite the disturbance with Matthew, again. So much that there are whispers about how his father wants you in the Knight's Guild, Adrie. The fuckin' Knight's Guild! You just had to go and fight the damn boy didn't ya?" Each time he says my name, his pitch gets higher, and every word is more venomous than the next.

Thinking back to the past few weeks, when Dorian first gave me my warning, it dawns on me. The first thing I had done after talking to him was get in a fight with Matthew. I thought it would've been ignored- especially since I wasn't in the wrong. I guess I was proven wrong.

Looking Dorian in the eyes, my face pales as I attempt to explain myself.

"I wasn't tryin' to cause trouble, you could've asked Arcelia too! The bastard slapped her, and I wasn't going to let him get away with it. I was damn near the only one who could. Anyone else was too scared to, and I've done it before without getting in any trouble. It's not my fault I know how to fight, and he doesn't," I cry out. "It's too bad kid. You might be able to act and dress like a lad without people getting suspicious of you, but you need to remember how easy it is to be revealed you aren't one," the older man says, while looking down, before grabbing a sack to fill with water canteens and extra food we have in the small kitchen area," Yes, you can fight, but you wouldn't last a week in that Guild The first few months alone are learning how to be a team with one another. That means spending every single day with multiple men just to sleep, shower, fight, and live. Hell, you'd be found just by a quick bad and body check, and we both know it," he gravely retorts before tossing me two burlap sacks," Now gather all your belongings. Thankfully, I was with Captain Eden at the tavern, and he offered to let you come with us to the trip to Zetharl. We are supposed to be doing some trading there, and there's quite a few safe houses there that you can stay at, until Arcelia and I can escape as well. Captain does not know about you and we are keeping it that way. He may be kind, but he's still an old pirate who still holds a lot of those olden beliefs. He has a strict rule about women being on his ship. So, it'd do you good to be on your best behavior and not raise any suspicions. If you do, I'll throw you off the damn ship myself, you hear me?"," Yes, I understand," I reply, defeated, and turn to make my way to my room to collect my items.

Taking a final look around my room, I let my hand drop down to brush against the scratchy blanket on my cot. It feels strange that I'll be leaving the only place I've ever known. The only people I've only known. I had always had a slight feeling that I would leave this place someday, I just never expected it to come so abruptly.

With a sigh, I hike my two bags up over my shoulder, and walk through the small cottage one last time, and stopped in front of the gate where Dorian was with a big barrel resting inside a wheelbarrow.

"Get in kid,"," The…barrel?" I ask, cocking my head to the side. "Yes the barrel. Hurry. The guards have already been on the lookout for you. I don't know why they haven't checked here yet, but I'm sure they're on their way. Hurry up into the damn thing so we can get you on that ship unnoticed,". Resting my hands on the sides of the opened object, I hike myself into it, thankful that it's big enough for me to fold my knees to my chest. Putting the light bags inside with me, Dorian places the top back on, leaving me encased in complete darkness. With a huff- the older man straightens the wheelbarrow up, and starts walking us on the dirt path.

As we continued on, I found myself hoping that I wouldn't get this same feeling on a ship- the rocking motion making my stomach feel queasy, and almost grateful that I hadn't ate since lunch.  Hearing a shout in the distance, I stiffen up, and press my ear against the wooden barrel in an attempt to hear who it was.

"Sir, under orders of the Head Knight Kitt Roswell, we need your boy to come with us now. Your son finally has a chance to bring some honor and glory to your family," a hidden gruff voice demands "My boy? Ah shit, Adrian? He's out in the forest picking herbs to sell this week. You see, I have a job to do tomorrow with captain Eden," My father figure pauses, before letting out a cough," I'm trying to get my stuff over to the ship now since we're leaving tonight, per Captain's request,".

Stifling a chuckle by biting my hand, I quickly thank the gods that these guards are idiots, as the main talking guard tells two of his guards to push the wheelbarrow for Dorian, while he and the others go to find me. Traveling at a faster pace, I hear the guards towing me try to make conversation with Dorian- which gets caught off as my world gets tilted to the side briefly.

"You fishermen really need this much shi- items on your journey?" One of the guards huff, clearly out of breath," Yes, we do. Pick the barrel up and place it over with the other, and take the wheelbarrow back to mainland- we're leaving now, and you two imbeciles need to get off my ship," A new commanding voice demands.  Captain Eden. Inside my barrel, I curl up slightly as I feel myself being moved- and unceremoniously dropped with a thud that makes my ears ring.

I stay hidden in my barrel until I hear commotion, men yelling all around my barrel, with footsteps rushing all around me. Moments later, I see the moonlight creep into my barrel- the top lid being pulled off, before seeing a roughed hand pull the bags out, and then eventually catching onto my shoulder to pull me up. Standing up with my eyes squinted from the sudden light, I see it's Dorian who has a hold of me, with Captain Eden standing a few feet away.

"It's good to see you, lad, it's been a while," The captain greets me before continuing, " I hope you don't get seasick, because you'll be on this ship a while- and you're definitely going to learn how to help out around here!"

[samanthalightning]

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part III

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part II

Summary: You headed out to have a drink with Iris, and after few cold ones, a realization dawned on you.

Warnings: None, besides alcohol. Drink accordingly, kids.

***

Iris invited you for some Girls' Night Out. You were reluctant to go out. The prison needs to be done chop-chop, so when 'The Mist' is apprehended, he'll have a place to rot in without harming anyone again.

And if you're being perfectly honest, you do want to go out, and talk and drink, but there are more pressing matters at hand. Much more than Iris' love life, and the game she chose to play.

Everyone left, except for Cisco who is in his own office. And since you don't have an office, shocking as might that sound with this place this big. You decided to stay in the cortex.

You like the solace when it comes to thinking. And dark places, weirdly. You turned off every light inside the deserted cortex, the only light illuminating the room was the display of Barry's suit and some lamps on the desks.

Nibbling on your pen, your feet up on the desk, you have been trying to get him off your mind. You had to leave the pipeline to cool off. It was hard doing something vital to the safety of people of the city and have your mind be plagued by something that revolves around your love life. It was very selfish. But you couldn't lie to yourself that it doesn't bother you; you're so distracted, and it's not the time to be.

You were pulled out of your reviere by a ding from your phone, thinking it's probably Iris, checking in whether you're still coming or not. You ignored it. She's being pretty insistent on going out; it means something happened. And it's Barry she should be pestering. You muted your phone for the sake of your peace of mind.

"Why are you still here?" Your head whirled around, taking your feet off the table. It was Wells behind you. You were startled, but not enough to make you jump or flinch. You didn't even hear him come in, perhaps you were just too caught up in your thoughts… of him.

"Why are you still here?" You were surprised. He disappeared hours ago, you thought he left without saying goodbye, because of what happened earlier. You would've done the same thing, as immature as that sounds.

"I want to see how the prison will turn out," he answered nonchalantly, moving beside you.

You straightened in your seat, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. You cleared your throat. "Well, I have to build it,"

"I think Cisco and I will be able to handle it perfectly fine if you go out for one night." He said, acting a little bit too normal.

"I know," you murmured. They're both adults and definitely much smarter than you, they can more than handle it, but it's hard to leave, but not

"Good. Then go out with Iris. Have fun," he insisted.

You brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. "Dr. Wells, I have to get—"

"It's okay. We'll be fine," he interrupted.

Your lips parted to retort, but he stared at you, eyes didn't even contain a hint of playfulness. You knew his eyes so well. And it made you more confused why he was pushing to go out and act like nothing happened, like you didn't just have the conversation earlier.

"Are you sure?" You questioned. Just to be safe, in case he was playing.

He nodded. He was giving you a seal of approval. You can't really disobey the boss, and besides, it might be well-needed. Just to get over what's been bothering you, and be more focused on work without thinking of Wells. It might be helpful. Or not. It's booze, you're taking it.

You heaved your chest in defeat with a grateful smile. "Okay. Fine." You stood up, and gathered your things and coat.

When you turned back to him, he was looking at you expectantly, you hesitated. You hesitated whether you should kiss him. He's still your boyfriend, and it's not the biggest fight in the world, so you went against every cell in your body that is so annoyed with him right now, leaned into him and gave him a brief peck on the lips.

It felt different, you knew the moment that you pulled away. It's blocked off, plain, just merely lips meeting— no smile after it like last night. You pushed the thought in the back of your mind and exited the cortex, you waved goodbye to Wells, and he waved back.

You sent Iris a text that you were coming, and she was ecstatic. And slightly tipsy.

You arrived at the bar. Hopefully, Iris isn't too drunk or has left. The cab ride price was ridiculous.

You stepped inside the bar, immediately welcomed by it's warm and bright ambience and the amount of large potted plants, and vines hanging off the wall was a refreshing sight. It's not so often you'll see that in a bar.

The stench of wood, bar food and alcohol filled your nostrils. It was loud and crowded; filled with conversation, laughters, and laughters, singing along at whatever the guy on stage was singing. Most of the people were still in their office attire, in their probably in their mid-20s to their late 30s.

You weaved through the crowd, looking around for Iris. You heard a shout, you didn't quite understand it, due to the noise, but you tried to make out of it as you heard it once more. Whipping your head around, you saw Iris by the bar, waving at you.

You walked to her with a smile on your face. She pulled you in, enveloping you into a tight, warm hug. You felt yourself sigh inwardly.

You didn't realize how much you needed it. The sense of comfort that you never had since your mom died. You crave it, but even if it's not as good as your mom's, it really hit the spot right now. Perhaps you were more upset than you thought.

You let go and both took a seat on the stool. You called the bartender and ordered yourself a beer.

She turned to you and asked, "How's your day?"

You exhaled sharply, while Iris looked at you expectantly. You had a hard time answering that. Well, to sum it up: Someone had died, there's crazy meta on the loose, and apparently he turns into a mist; Barry almost died, you have to build a makeshift prison; oh, and there are many things that you have to do, but you can't get your mind off your boyfriend and what he said. And yet, the last thing that you are is what you replied.

"Fine. You?"

"Fine," she replied.

You picked it up right off the bat that you were both lying, not only to each other, but to yourselves as well. After all of what's happening, you felt the need to.

"Cool. What's up?"

She shrugged with a little pout Joe does when he lies. "Nothing. Just wanna catch up,"

So you did. You talked about how work was the latest news in pop culture, whatever Barry was doing. You were two girls with secrets and if any of the topics touched relationships, romance or secrets in particular, you dodged it like how Barry dodges bullets.

The night went on. Hundred songs were sung by random people on the stage, and you start to feel the alcohol you start to kick off in your system. You two started talking about your childhood. About things you did, she did that pissed the hell out of Joe. There were a lot; you were a pain in the poor man's ass.

You faced Iris, head tilted on, as you placed it on the palm of your hand. Your head feels a little lightheaded, but you'll manage.

"Remember when Joe caught us drinking his beer?" You inquired.

A tipsy Iris broke into a grin, nodding. Oh she remembers it too well. "Yup. He was so mad. It was so funny." She giggled uncontrollably.

"Yeah, and we got grounded for a week," you retorted, taking a sip of your beer.

"Well, you helped us sneak it in the room!" She exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly.

"Only because you said it tasted good!" You retorted.

"And you believed me," she smirked.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, taking a sip of your drink. In your defense, you were 14. Not that they were much older— a year, actually. But you do regret it. Because of being grounded, you missed a date with Logan Garrick, your long time crush. Guess you weren't really one for dates.

As the smiles on your faces faded slowly, the energy you two radiated simmered down. Your voices or stories weren't the only ones that matters; everyone, the noises, the place you forgot you were in started sinking into your senses.

You were both hiding from the truth and someone has to cut the chase, be forthcoming with it tonight or you're both going to go crazy.

It's not gonna be you. At least not yet. As much as you aren't fond of his choice, you just can't.

You might not know Iris like your brother does, but you knew her. You're not stupid. This grab a drink with little sis is just a façade. One of the façade you're both putting up, anyway.

"So, what's up— like really?" You asked.

"What?" Iris eyebrows knitted in faux confusion.

You gave her a sharp look. You're not sober enough to play along with her denial.

She snorted, brushing you off. You maintained your stern expression, she laughed at you for staring at her, testing how far she can push her luck and convince you. Her laughs trailed off and she stared at you for a moment to see if you're gravely serious. You were.

Realizing it. She sighed, defeated. She tore her eyes off you down to her drink.

"Is it Eddie?" You asked.

Her jaws tightened at the mention of his name.

"What happened?" You insisted.

Turmoil in relationships is not something that is easy to talk about, and it can be pretty overwhelming. You know it yourself, which is precisely why you know it's very important to get it off your chest. But you can't go on throwing out your problems without questions, so the closest thing to that is helping Iris.

"He showed at home while Dad was there," she started. You almost spat drink, looking at her with wide eyes, terrified. You worry that Joe may have found out and he did not take it well. "We got away with it, but..." she paused.

"But...?"

She exhaled. "But he said that keeping our relationship is killing our relationship,"

You stiffened. If that didn't hit you so hard. Your chest tightened, as you felt a pang of pain in your heart; you never thought you will relate to someone ever that it will hurt.

You inhaled sharply, struggling to keep it together as all the emotions are raging through you.

"Did you explain why you didn't want Joe to know?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I told him that Dad won't like it and he wouldn't support it, and he'd be very angry. He said he understands— but I know he doesn't, Y/N. I feel it. He isn't okay with it, and it bothers me so much, because it might threaten our relationship." Her eyes glistened with tears welling up in her eyes, under the light. Her voice was starting to strain. It shows how visibly upset she was with the issue, and it pains you so hard how you can easily understand and put yourself in their situation, because you are in the exact position.

"I don't know what to do. Do I keep it from Dad and jeopardize my relationship with Eddie, or jeopardize my relationship with my Dad by telling him about Eddie?"

She turned to you, confused and torn up; it was like a cry for comfort and advice.

You pressed your lips together tightly, as much as you try to keep at bay, the emotions surged, putting a crack on the dam of your tears. You swore to God that this day is a bitch. Barry should be here. He should be comforting the girl he's in love with, not you.

You were okay. You said you were okay. You were gonna get over it and you'll be fine, and now you're just questioning everything you thought you felt.

"You can't keep doing this to you or to him, Iris. You can't dictate who he's going to tell, because he's part of this relationship as much as you are. It must have felt so suffocating, and controlling, and he has to look at your Dad every single day, and it feels as though he's betraying him and—" you paused, realizing you were getting carried away. Your voice almost wavered if you hadn't stopped.

You realized two fundamental truths, and it hit like a freaking wrecking ball and Miley Cyrus was on it—one, Wells was avoiding the elephant in the room earlier. And so were you.

Two, you weren't talking about Eddie anymore. You were talking about yourself.

You felt the warm water pooling in your eyes. You know you have to take it down a notch or you'll burst. So you laughed, not that it helped.

"I guess my point is he's gonna explode, and you don't let it get to that," you told her, looking into her eyes, through her soul to prove your point.

"What am I gonna do then?"

You let out a breath, uncertain. If you knew, you would have a perfect love life right now. "I don't know. Talk to him, I guess. Work this out; compromise,"

Silence befell, the tension was intense and uneasy. You and Iris may never be bound by blood, but you're still sisters. And it became evident how you two have more similarities than being in a secret relationship, when you both turn your heads to side to hide your face. To wipe the tears that spilled and compose yourself.

After that, you both turned back, but still didn't speak. Iris seems to be thinking deeply, maybe considering your insights. While you were occupied with your own mind's thoughts.

"When did you become an expert to all this?" She joked.

You chuckled. "Since I dated Danny in College,"

She groaned upon hearing your college boyfriend's name. "Ugh. I remember that idiot."

He really was an idiot.

Debbie isn't your name, and you sure as hell ain't a downer either. You didn't come out to drink to cry about this. You weren't supposed to at all.

Tonight, you need to distract yourself from whatever you're feeling. Laying eyes on the karaoke, there was an instant ding in your head.

You looked at Iris. "You know what? Let's not think about this tonight. Let's have fun and we can worry about this tomorrow." You got off your stool and grabbed Iris' wrist.

Not having a chance to protest, you half-dragged her to the man in charge of the karaoke. You grabbed the song book and searched for a song. Iris did give you a weird look, obviously confused with sudden mood changes, but you shrugged it off.

That night, you sang, you drank, you laughed, and cheered so hard. You knew it was embarrassing, but you were desperate.

Each time you feel your eyes water, tears threatening to spill, or your heart aching, you distract yourself with another song or drink, or just pretend to pay attention to what's in front of you. You tried to make sure that your mind won't think.

Your emotions are off-limits tonight. You don't want to feel them tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, but tonight, you can't. It's just all too much to bear right now.

***

Damn. Almost cried when I writing this. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you share it and give it some love. Thanks!

Part IV

[xxrainstormxx]

Request: unsub targeting women who are brunette-believes they're witches and burns them at the stake after putting them in white dresses. Agent is dating Aaron or Spencer, gets kidnapped, team arrives just after unsub starts the fire where she is tied to the stake. Agent suffers burns to her feet and Hotch or Spence care for them after. (Thank you!!)

2The Witch Hunt. Aaron Hotchner x Reader.

Warnings- fighting, talk of death, kidnapping, injuries, burns, witch hate, some cussing.

I’m a witch so this was a little difficult to write. Sorry it took so long. Words: 5,253

“When change cometh, she will bring peace at her back. She will not bend to your will; you must bend to hers.” -Adriana Mather. How to Hang a Witch. 

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

Things were quiet for the first time in what felt like a week. Aaron, Jack, and I were watching movies together. It was a quiet Saturday and I really enjoyed that, especially since it was one of those weeks where Aaron hadn't been home so it was only me and his son. Aaron and I had been dating for about 7 months, I figured that moving forward was the best way to handle our situation. I worked from home as a website coordinator for major companies who just hadn't caught up with the technology wave, which was the polar opposite of Aaron's job. He was constantly gone, and in danger. I sighed softly, it was my idea to move in so soon. He didn't exactly love the idea at first but after I told him it could be good for Jack to have someone in the house it made him feel a little better, and since life is too short especially for him it was best to skip too much in between fluff. Life is a mess and yet I was content with the life I had chosen. "Opie." Jack said quietly to me. He had become like a child to me and I wasn't exactly read to be a parent so an Opie was next best thing I guess. "what is it Jack?" I asked softly "I want some snackies" he said quietly "please can I have some?" I just nodded and smiled nodding "Of course you can buddy. What kind do you want?" I hummed softly as he thought softly "How about some gushers" I suggested to him and he gasped nodding quickly "Gushers!" He yelled excitedly making Aaron let out a very rare laugh, a gentle smile resting on his face. "gushers!" Jack grinned bouncing on the couch as I walk to the kitchen. I sighed standing up onto my tiptoes to grab the box of gushers off the top shelf. Aaron said to put all the junk food up high so Jack couldn't reach it easily, but what he forgot was I struggle to reach sometimes depending on the shelf. It was a pain in the ass. I squeaked quietly as I felt a hand on my hip and a man pressed against my back. "Jesus Aaron, don't scare me like that" I snorted softly leaning into his touch closing my eyes. "sorry (Y/N), I figured you'd need some help since the unhealthier snacks are on the very top shelf," he hummed closing it and swaying with me happily. Sometimes I forgot just how romantic Aaron actually was, it wasn't the laying out flowers on valentines day, or calling me cheesy silly things, just sweet. He held me when he felt I needed to be held, spent as much time with me as I could, never made ridiculous accusation. He was an adult and we had an adult relationship. It was the first one I had too, so to say it was refreshing was a slight understatement. I really loved Aaron but I wasn't quite ready to say that yet. "Daddy! Opie! You're missing the movie!" Jack called making me laugh "He's right. We should go" I hummed sweetly pulling Aaron to the couch handing Jack his Gushers. I cuddled into Aaron's chest thinking about what to make all of us for dinner. I was tired of having takeout because that was what Jack and I ate when he was out on a case. This last case was a fairly easy one. A few murders here and there. Yes it took them a week but the guy was clever and kept getting out of custody, so I was told. It was scary how many bad people were out there and how you just had to narrow down the bad to the worst, and then take your pick of those sickos. "So-" Aaron began ever so thoughtfully. I've been thinking and I think it's time, you meet the BAU" That sentence alone made my heart skip a beat. "Really?" I grinned. The BAU was his family, a whole different world, and meeting them would mean he was sure of where this relationship was going. That was the best feeling in the world. "Yeah. I think we both know this relationship is going well, and I feel good enough to tell them. What do you think?" He questioned and I nodded quickly "Please! That would be so wonderful Aaron!" I squealed hugging him.

As we talked excitedly the phone rang, more specifically Aaron's hand held rang. My heart dropped because I knew what the deal was. He answered with a stern "Hotchner" as he always did. It scared me how fast his mood changed sometimes so sweet and happy, to stone faced mean man in seconds. I guess it was his way of coping with the job and everything it had put him through. Aaron's history at the BAU was nothing to scoff and and I knew better than to question his job or authority within it. I just sighed "What kind of takeout do you want tonight Jack?" I questioned the small boy softly who hummed "Chicken!" he grinned and I nodded sitting back slightly disheartened "That sounds yummy." I hummed. "right. Alright, be there soon. Thanks JJ" he said hanging up "I'm sorry. The good news is, I don't have to leave town. Bad news is this guy is so active we might need to stay at the Bureau for a night or two." He said looking to me with a frown. "Go." I smiled gently "go be a hero, and when you catch this guy. Make sure he knows he fucked with the wrong team" I whispered the last part in his ear. He grinned kissing me gently, the encouragement was always something he appreciated, I knew that much for sure. I kissed back holding his face as he stood up. I didn't want him to go. I knew he had to, I knew it was important, and I knew not to take it personally but it was still hard to watch him go every time. "I really have to go (Y/N)." he muttered against my lips making me whine. "Just. One more minute." I sighed as he pulled away putting on his jacket. "You know want to but I can't. You know that" he sighed kissing Jack's head and giving him a big hug "I'll see you in a little bit buddy." He said softly. Even when he was telling the truth it still hurt just a little, Jack was probably the strongest kid I'd met. He had become so used to his father leaving, he missed him every single time, but he sat brave sure his dad would come back the hero he knew he was. And that was what kept me strong. A little boy so assured of his father that you couldn't help but be too. I just sighed softly lost in my thoughts as Aaron left, I tired to keep a really open mind about it. His wife had left because of his job and I didn't also want to do that. It was a demanding and dangerous job though and the idea of him being gone for so long and maybe not coming back leaving me with his son? It made me feel sick. Worry was always on the forefront of my mind when he was gone. It was the worst sometimes. I started to fill a pot with water since I figured some macaroni for lunch would be good. "Jack! How do you feel about macaroni for lunch?" I hummed softly to the boy, who didn't respond causing me to be confused. 

I just sighed and set the pot down on the counter, and went to check on Jack wondering if he had wondered into another room. "Jack?" I called out into the almost empty apartment. I blinked walking into Aaron's study with a loud sigh. I wondered if he was 'working a case'. I learned that was what you said when you needed him to safety. A good way for him to hide, I was surprised, I remember that was when he told me about his late ex wife. I had just moved in with him and he was panicked and looking for Jack. When we had found him he smiled widely saying "sorry daddy. I had to work a case". It was sweet until Aaron had to explain the emergency plans. He told me he just couldn't take anymore chances. I just sighed as he told me the story of what happened to Hailey, and shook my head smiling when he offered me an out. "I'm not going anywhere Aaron. I care a whole lot about you, and danger? It's a given." I told him, we hadn't even come close to saying I love you. It was so early on that saying it felt a little wrong. We still hadn't actually, it was one of those things we were both scared to admit. "Here I am Opie!" Jack called from his bedroom making me smile and walk to him "Hey buddy. How does some mac and cheese sound for lunch?" I knelt down with a smile. "Yeah! We get to save some for daddy too right?" he asked "Of course. Come on. Lets go, you can play in the ki-" I stopped when I heard glass break "Actually, while I make lunch, you... uh you, daddy needs you to work the case with him okay? Keep working till daddy or I comes and gets you." I said softly kissing his forehead. He nodded and got up running off to his safe place and I grabbed a bat from his room slowly walking towards the living room. The picture of me and Aaron had fallen off the table. I let out a soft sigh and picked it up and went to the kitchen to get a broom to clean the glass. I set the picture on the counter and hissed in pain as I gently nicked my finger on a larger piece of glass. "Shit..." I hissed starting to wash it, I decided to get Jack after everything was cleaned so he wouldn't get hurt. "How did that even fall off the table. I didn't think it was that close to the edge." I muttered to myself. I shook my head gasping in shock as I was grabbed causing me to scream. My hair was used to pull my head back and I was faced with a masked man. It wasn't a ski mask but instead a plastic mask. I hissed and screamed turning myself around tangling my brown hair in the process. The man very clearly displeased with my actions shoved me into the counter causing my hair to fall over my face. "Stop struggling" the stranger's gruff voice commanded making me shiver with pure fear as he stepped closer grabbing my neck. 

I was so scared I was going to die I did the next best thing and grabbed the pot of water slapping him across the face with it ignoring the water. I stumbled out as he yelled in pain not even thinking straight. I could have grabbed a knife but I instead went for the phone. I was about half way there when I felt a blunt object causing me to fly forward into the table. I didn't feel the pain I was far too scared not to mention that my body was pumping adrenaline like crazy. I hissed sitting up searching quickly for anything. I found one of Jacks toys that was just a little too sharp but not sharp enough to harm, unless you were using it like I was. I screamed loudly using the toy to take out his fucking knee. He screamed falling to the ground long enough for me to discover I literally broke the phone under me when I fell into the table. I stood trying to run away from the broken side table and batshit insane man trying to grab me. I ran to the other side of the couch trying to trick him into following my path so I could make a B line for the kitchen. I need a knife more than ever, I couldn't leave to get help. There wasn't a guarantee he wouldn't follow and if he didn't follow for whatever reason that could be putting Jack in a seriously dangerous situation he didn't need to be in. I gagged at the smell of this man, he smelt homeless and like cigarettes. There was another smell I couldn't place but it was absolutely terrible. Add a years worth of whiskey to the mix and you had the man standing in my living room. "Come here bitch." He hissed "You need to pay for your crimes." now, the problem is I never committed a crime. And i wanted nothing more to scream and cry, but Aaron said never to show them fear, or give them what they want. So even if he did kill me, I wasn't letting him get any satisfaction from it. He came at me and I ran grabbing a glass shard from the counter and a knife, I stabbed at him blindly yelling, and cursing. "Get away from me!" I snapped, I missed the stab to the chest and only got his arm. Gasping for air I tried to grab another and screamed as a bag was put over my head, he shook the knife off like a god damn champ. I let out one final plea for help before everything when black.

With Aaron. 3rd person P.o.V

Aaron silently wondered if he really needed to be here. If it was actually a case that his team needed to take. He wondered if he could just shrug off JJ saying it wasn't actually priority, and he fully planned on it until he saw what was on the screen. It was just about enough to make him sick, there were four skeletons on the screen all of them had a pile of long brunette hair next to them, all wearing a white dress that was scorched to hell. It was almost nothing, it was a lot of messy cloth but you could just tell what is was. He sighed sitting down, it was local. He hated it, he hated how close it was to his own home. How close it was to Jack and (Y/N). He called the house with a frown before everyone else got there and it freaked him out slightly when it went straight to voice mail. He wondered silently if the battery had died, he hadn't changed it in a long time and had a bad habit of leaving it off the holder. He really was concerned, but tried to keep himself composed. And so when everyone came in he held his same stoic face. Spencer though was definitely the first to notice something was off though. He was good at his job like that, so when he asked if something was wrong it threw Aaron off slightly. "Hotch?" Derek questioned after noticing as well how off he was. Emily also noticed but decided not to press the issue as JJ walked into the room with a sad smile. "Time to get this show on the road." Everyone knew that it was time for the worst part of their jobs. Figuring out what they were too late to stop.

"This-" JJ gestured to the skeleton on the screen "Is Anna Beekly. She was reported missing three days ago and turned up two days ago as you see her now." She said quietly and pulled up two other pictures. They looked almost exactly the same as the previous victim except the first one seemed to have a cross in the picture. "All of these women were believed to have been taken by the same person and killed exactly the same." JJ said "and all of them had one thing in common while alive" she stated putting up the pictures of the alive and smiling women. "They were all brunettes." she sighed. "Well that takes victomology out of the way" Emily said quietly "Its odd, no one decomposes that fast and the bodies are badly burned but if he wanted to dispose of the evidence why wouldn't he keep trying instead of dumping them." Rossi mumbled blinking "Unless he isn't trying to burn the evidence" Spencer suggested. Aaron looked sick. (Y/N) was a brunette, sure it was a common hair color but the idea scared the hell out of him. "What do you mean?" Derek asked patting the now very quiet Penelope Garcia's back. "Well, maybe he's burning them alive." He said quietly "Look at the dresses and how they're burned matching up to how their body is burned. The fire's hottest point is at their feet." He said pointing out all the facts. "And look at the first picture" Aaron continued "It seems like hes burning them on it. And after the first dump it didn't feel right to leave the cross with them so he stopped" he frowned

"So what your saying is-" Derek began "-We have a witch hunter" Rossi finished scowling. Aaron nodded. "Penelope. I need you to look up anything and everything these victims may have had in common and if they knew or met the unsub. Now. Before we even leave." Aaron hissed. He was getting nervous and antsy. He hadn't even received a text that everything was alright from his girlfriend. "Yes sir" Penelope yelped tapping like mad at her keyboard "Okay.. Okay um..." she stuttered "all these women had online stores. And were connected to a man who's user was Olsin24, and that user traces back to a fake email address I can't track but he was the last one the victims had contact with" she whimpered softly. Everyone was a little shocked by how snappy Aaron was all of a sudden, it wasn't like him to have mood swings especially ones that made Penelope worried. "It looks like he only messages and meets one person at a time since he only has correspondents with the three women and a fourth." She said tapping quickly "Who's the fourth?" Derek asked raising a brow "She's our next victim and we got to help her before anything else" he said firmly "Already on that my sweet" she grinned and pulled up her laptop onto the big screen "Her name is (Y/N) (L/N), she works as a social media manager, and met up with this man three days ago to discus getting his business online." she hummed pulling up the picture of Aaron's girlfriend making him sick to his stomach "Where does she live? We need to get there immediately" Emily said standing up adrenaline already pumping. "She lives.." She pulled up the address and her face dropped. "With Hotch..." She blinked in surprise as everyone turned to the pale man for an explanation. "She's my girlfriend..." he mumbled "I was going to tell you all about her later." He mumbled "But we don't have time for that. She and Jack are alone at the house and our home phone is dead. We have to go" he stood and ran out to the SUVs everyone following "Hotch scored" Derek said to Emily before hitting him and running after them.

(Y/N) P.o.v

I woke up dizzy and confused at the very least. There was one blissful moment where I had forgotten everything that happened. I only wondered if Jack had brushed his teeth before we went to sleep, and not about the fight, and the mess, the knives and toys. I almost forgot about how I felt like my head was splitting and two and thinking Aaron would be home soon. But when I opened my eyes instead of questioning my surroundings I started to sob quietly, as all the memories flooded back and I was left in a cold room with water dripping down the roof. It smelt like death and I realized I was in a cage. One of those cages you'd put a husky in when it was bedtime and you didn't trust them to not shit in your room. I whimpered realizing I was tied up and pretty lost. The feeling in my wrists was gone and I was sure if I could see them they'd be purple but as they were behind my back I couldn't do much. Until I remembered a trick Aaron had taught me. You aren't normally supposed to be able to get your hands from behind your back to in front of you, but with enough bending and flexibility it was easily possible. I slowly worked and sighed in relief as I could see my hands. I began to bite at the rope hopelessly tugging on it even if to just loosen it enough so it would be less painful, silently panicking as I heard the jiggle jangle of keys down the hall.

I nearly started sobbing again as the man stepped into the cage "If you wanted them looser you could have just asked" He muttered unforgivably and started to loosen them but not taking them off. "Sit in that chair" He muttered stepping aside giving me room to crawl out. As I did I silently contemplated if I could run, looking at the disgusting green chair that looked as if it'd been thrown up on and smelt like cat piss. He grabbed me shoving and killing any hope I had of escaping. "We need to cut your hair. You'll burn to long if we don't" He said quietly and sighed basically inhaling it making me wince away fro him. I had never been so disgusted in my entire life. I moved away from him "Shame, it was so pretty" he moaned into it causing me to gag involuntarily. The body knew what it wanted, and it did not want this. "what.... what do you mean by,, I'll burn too long?" I winced regretting the question the second it came out of my mouth. "You're a witch..." he sneered. "I'm n-not a witch... a-and even if I wa-was. Witches aren't bad. They just want to do good things and live life wit-with good vibes. It's j-just a religion lik-like any other one." I whimpered softly as he threw me in the chair ignoring my pleas for mercy. I was human, that was it. I needed to humanize myself, Aaron told me that if I do that it may appeal to him "M-My name is (Y/N), I-I'm 39 years old, I have a boyfriend named Aaron who cares for me a lot, and he has a little boy." I whimpered, it hit me that we had met. "R-remember me... J-Jacob remember me? We met the other day" I cried softly "Yeah. But your hair, it's the devil's color. We can't let a witch like you walk aroun' runin' lives and such" he shook his head. I whimpered as I felt the brush start making its way down my hair. "Brushing makes it easier to cut" he muttered. Am I going to die here?

With Aaron 3rd person p.o.v 

Aaron nearly busted down his own door and went into a state of shock at the scene of his apartment. He quickly ran up to his study "Jack? JACK!" he yelled as the rest of his team followed shocked as well. He went to see if Jack was in his hiding spot and there he was peacefully napping. Aaron quickly picked him up hugging him, he yawned in response sleepily looking up "Hi daddy. Opie said you needed help working the case and not to come out until she or you came back" He yawned looking around "Can I goes back to sleep now?" He mumbled earning a soft nod from Aaron as he handed him off to JJ. He quickly got up and went to investigating. "This was some struggle, the table is broken and so is the home phone. There's a knife on the ground over here along with a bloody toy. There's broken glass but no picture" Spencer mumbled "He must have broken it to distract her so he could catch her off guard, and it didn't work very well" he muttered. It damn near killed Aaron to hear about his girlfriend being talked about like a victim. He'd had this happen with Hailey and he wasn't ready for it to happen again. "The picture is in here. Seemed like she was trying to clean it up. Maybe she worried someone was in the house, saw it was just the picture and decided to clean up, not knowing someone was actually here." Emily suggested as she yelled from the other room. "There's some blood and a lot of water all over the floor. But the pot is in the sink. (Y/N) clearly didn't put it here, and the glass has been moved to the trash, but there blood on the counter clearly someone cut themselves on it cleaning it up" She hummed confused. "The question is, who's really doing the cleaning?" She muttered. "Is that even important?!" Aaron snapped "What is important right now is finding (Y/N)" he muttered "Look. We're missing a knife. She had to stab him meaning there has to be a guy out there in need of medical attention." He snapped again, being way too on edge. "Hotch" Derek grounded him with a sigh "Look..." he said "I know you're very involved with (Y/N), but you need to calm down. Step outside okay?" He mumbled, worried for the man who looked like he might just break the other. "Fine" He hissed going out to his son, leaving them to look through the apartment. It came up clean. Except for one thing. A hand print on the table, bloody and clear as day. "Lets get to it." Emily said blinking.

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I stared at the pile of hair the bastard chopped off crying softly picking up strands. I was proud of my hair and it was a different kind of violation, I was in shock and I felt sick. I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn't even have time to recognize that Jacob had come into my cell. I was completely terrified, I didn't know what he wanted, and I didn't know how to appease him. "What do you want!" I sobbed. "Why won't you let me go!" I screamed crying out in pain as he grabbed me by the face pulling me off the ground roughly. I whimpered in fear, unable to stop myself at this point. The pain was real, horrifically real, and that's what fear became. "Admit to your crime and maybe God will have mercy on you" he hissed spitting on my face. I winced my lower lip quivering "I haven't done anything" I sobbed "I'm not a witch. I'm just a woman!" I screeched as he threw me to the floor. He threw a dress at me "What do you want to eat? It'll be your last" he mumbled. I cried softly, "I... I want... some..." I thought about my first date with Aaron, it was simple but I could be myself. I ordered a burger and fries, with chilli to dip the fries in. It was the best, the food was mediocre but Aaron was attached to it. I wanted a little bit of him left. I sniffled "can I write it down for you?" I asked. He nodded handing me a pad and pencil. I wrote the order with a sniffle, handing him the paper. He took it leaving, and I immediately felt empty and sad. I needed to write to Aaron and Jack. They didn't know where I was and if this guy continued to bring victims here, someone was bound to find it and give it to him for me. That was all I could do, that and put on the dress. If I tried to escape lord knows what would happen. 

Mass chaos P.o.V

Aaron paced in Penelope's lair just waiting for a match to come up. He was monitoring (Y/N)'s credit card, any online history from Olsin24, if he messaged someone else that meant (Y/N) was already dead, but Aaron didn't want to think about that. He needed to continue working off the belief that (Y/N) was alive or else he might just loose his mind. He needed to find her and fast, he couldn't let anything happen to her. "Sir! We have a match!" Penelope said quickly "Jacob Harrson! He's a 51 year old man! And he was spotted... at a restaurant. He used (Y/N)'s credit card 12 minutes ago" she swallowed a lump in her throat "I'm sending you the address now." Aaron could have hugged her but right now he needed to focus on finding his girlfriend so he ran the team following.  As they loaded into their cars, (Y/N) was being pulled from the floor and towards the field. The dress flew behind her and she kept stepping on broken glass from what she assumed were beer bottles. The SUVs going as fast as they could sirens blaring. The idea of (Y/N) being dead was at the front of Aaron's anxious mind, he felt sick and so did she. She was being pulled through a backyard and tied to a cross. She felt sick watching as he slowly added more and more kindling. "You're going to be okay. God will have mercy. He always does." Jacob said, brushing his thumb across her cheek making her gag. They pulled up to the house guns out and they were ready to bust down the door. The BAU was ready to actually solve a case super fast the idea not dawning on them that if they were wrong, (Y/N) was dead. But her screams and cries for help caught Aaron's attention the flames and smoke being seen from the back yard. Aaron ran back Derek following quickly. 

The fight that followed was too blurry for anyone to remember but Jacob was on the ground nearly dead and Aaron was pulling (Y/N) off the cross quickly. "Shit. Baby it's okay. It's okay you're safe" He whispered crying and holding her. She just cried "I can't feel my feet" she whispered gagging. "I can't do anything, am I moving them?" she whispered Aaron looked down nearly gagging at the sight. (Y/N) had fourth degree burns, it had only been a few minutes but that was enough apperently. The bone shone through the skin around it red, the blisters bursting and the crisp skin around the bone charred beyond repair "MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!" Derek yelled as Aaron tried to distract (Y/N). "Its okay. Don't think about it. We'll get you taken care of. You'll be home soon, you, Jack, and me can all watch movies, and it'll be fun." He watched her eyes light up. She nodded slowly "okay... I'm tired." She mumbled "Not yet. Okay? Just, keep looking at me" He whispered the stretcher back. Aaron knew everything would be okay.

"I am no more a witch than you are a wizard. If you take my life away God will give you blood to drink" -Sarah Good.

[cosmiclatte28]

Radio Romance (Doyoung x reader, Jaehyun)

This was on my wattpad too! Do check them out, I am working on my SuperM fanfiction.

Warning : Fluff, Doyoung and Jaehyun are radio DJs! Sweet ones obviously 

fluff and safe for work ;)

enjoy !!!

A great hit by Adele fades out as the familiar prelude to my beloved radio segment chimes in. The catchy yet simple jingle makes me perks my ears.

"Good evening citizens! This is DJ Doyoung"

"And this is DJ Jaehyun. You are now listening to Night Paradise of One Two Seven Regular Radio"

"Where you can relax and sleep with sweet dreams." Said Doyoung.

"The time now is nine o'clock. It is Wednesday May 8 and tonight we will receive your song requests and of course the favorite Radio Romance program is still available." Jaehyunexplains their rundown.

I go to turn up the music louder, well the channel I am tuning in right now is our Campus' radio station and since freshman days, this radio station really helps me during the stress nights before finals until the lonely nights when I miss mother's home cook meal. I really love the program, listening to music, witnessing a guy confess to a girl he likes, sometimes I just like to listen to the bickering of the DJs, and mostly I just like having sounds in my silent room. I share an apartment with a foreigner from the same country but he is currently busy. And during these nights, the radio really entertains me.

"As we collect your messages and requests, first composition tonight will be from the latest hit by NCT. As the night is still early, we think a lot of our listeners are still sticking their nose to books and papers. To energize you, we present you Highway to Heaven." Jaehyun's deep voice echoes.

I smiled; this song is currently my mood booster. Picking up my pen, I can return to read my textbook and try my best to study more; Though it is challenging for me to keep on reading, instead of singing on top of my lungs while dancing wildly. As much as I want to do those two badly, I know that my parents sent me here to the United States from the Country of Ginseng and Kimchi to learn something and be someone. Halfway through the song, I can't hold back my feelings and grab my phone.

I quickly text a private message to someone,

"Seriously.. I can't focus. Finals are around the corner. Mum will kill me if A is not present."

I Hit the send button and locked my phone. I must not get carried away into chatting. That will end my life.

After calming my excited nerves with water, the radio DJs return with different love confessions and questions.

Ranging from

"What should I do to get this girl's attention? I'm super shy while she's the total opposite." The two each suggested dating advices. Which I believe were not from their experiences. It's definitely a google answer.

"I just broke up with my boy friend, and I need more comfort songs. Can you two please fulfil my request. Thanks, and DJ Jaehyun you're the best." To which Doyoung replies jokingly "Noted. More love songs. DJ Doyoung is in charge of songs tonight. You pick the wrong guy."

"I can't sleep tonight. I need to finish 3 works by 7 a.m. tomorrow. Please tune up the bpm." Jaehyun's cheeky remarks was "I think coffee will help you better than us. Our program ended at 10.. anyways, we hope you for the best! Fighting!"

Those are messages coming into their homepage

"Now moving on to the tweets, I have.." Doyoung laughs a bit

"To @osaka_prince I really miss you, let's meet for Takoyaki this week. Call me asap. From @nct_is_life"

"You heard that @osaka_prince, someone misses you! And next we have.."

tHis time Jaehyun's soothing voice exits the stereo

"To @ice_yongie how are you doing? I heard you tune into this channel regularly. Wish you all the best for your finals. From @fire_jung"

"Right... to every students, please stay healthy, have enough sleep, and prepare for your finals." Jaehyun said and continue with two more mentions.

After that they play another hit song, this time as the atmosphere starts to go bittersweet. Their choice was Because of You by Taeil.

The sweet voice and words I understands, made a good company for me. I finish reading my books as the last beat of the song drops and Doyoung'strademark voice comes in.

"We have one more hour to accompanyyour night. Now for the news, we have one from the school's Baseball team, one from the hospital and another from the cafeteria. After the news we'll head on to the Call Me Maybe segment. Please wait for it."

Jaehyun reads the news about the upcoming grand Baseball match this Thursday, it's Trojans vs Eagles. Don't forget to come with all your Trojans attire and merchandises we all know how the season will end. Winning is our middle name.

The next news was only about reminding students to take care of their health during finals and a new boba stall will open this Monday. Discount 50% for first 100 cups.

No matter how cheap that will be, I know I can't skip class just to queue for a boba. Not if I want to have my ass bloody red.

The Call Me Baby segment comes after 2 other compositions and oddly I love this segment. Though it may be weird to some people, listening someone making a voice note on air to their special ones and getting no reply.. still there is something in my heart that likes hearing those.

Apparently a lot of calls were desperate. From 5 voice message, 2 are clearly in a phase of knowing someone and trying to win their heart, the other 3 are asking how someone has been.. clearly they broke up one misses the other one, but have no choice other than to use the radio to ask his or her condition. Ego always wins right?

I feel bad for those three who cannot directly ask how the people who used to be special to them is feeling right now. Lucky I'm not in that condition.

Then they take a break with several advertisements and music.

I leave my room to wash my face and clean my books. Well I am sleepy, but I am waiting for someone to return home.

The radio DJs are currently online with the twitter. Since it is impossible to read every tweet on air, they take time answering some lucky listener's tweets. I scroll my twitter and smiles a little when my tweet got replied.

"Have strength! You can do it~" – DJ Doyoung

I retweeted it and afterwards continue scrolling and reading a lot of replies and stories. Apparently there's much more than love and broken heart problems. Some are posting questions of which food to eat, some are just saying hi, several others requested songs; others even post thank-you letters for the two DJ who work hard to make their nights enjoyable and fun.

I glance at the clock. It is 30 minutes to their closing. Turns out two hours is not a long time. Hufht if only every two hours lectures can be this quick and enjoyable.

The last segment was the story sharing time. Basically everyone can submit their inspiring stories to the channel's email and then the team will choose which one is good to share. Tonight the speaker was none other the school's favorite baseball captain. Lee Taeyong... he shares his baseball career path. He shares his hard works, his passion, and what keeps him moving forward. His 10 minutes talk is inspiring. I wiped a tear that falls from my eye, his story is really touching.

Jaehyun and Doyoung also seem to honor the man talking on air right now. They salute his never ending passion and hard work. Taeyong gets to greet some of his fans and cheer them up. The segment ends after 15 minutes and Both DJ wraps his visit by telling all listeners to support Taeyong and his team on field this Thursday.

More tweets are read and replied directly on air, soothing songs for sleeping also fills the room.

"We did not realize time is running. It was fun listening to your feeling. The stars are starting to shine on the clear sky. You might want to take a peek out of your window for a moment.And as the night deepens,our segment must end after this." Doyoung shares his regret.

"Right, we are sad Paradise Night is over, but worry not for we will see you again this Friday. Please keep on tuning into One Two Seven Regular Radio. I am DJ Jaehyun"

"and I am DJ Doyoung"

"We present you the last composition, UN Village by Baekhyun. Sweet Dreams and Good night." The two host harmonize and the calm upbeat prelude from UN Village takes over their voice.

My phone lights up as the song almost reach its chorus.

"I'm done. Going home now.. wait for me!"

I typed a reply and turn the volume louder.

I know that, I know that, I know Yes we are now

Hannam-dong UN Village hill Looking up at the moon from the hill

I walk from my room to the small balcony. The radio song fluently escapes my opened room. Isomehow remembered that Jaehyun or Doyoung earlier said the sky is bright. Turns out I can see sea of stars tonight. It's relaxing and pretty.

The front door of my apartment opens and closes. I turn around and see someone returning home with a tired face but a smile is still there.

"Thank you for waiting me... the stars are dancing tonight and the moon is big!" His attention distracted by the picturesque sky in front of our eyes. He stands beside me, one hand over my waist to bring me close to his warm body.

You and me, umm yeah

UN Village hill, eh

Side by side we look at the moon

We sway to the rhythm and the song ends not long after it. It was a nice closing song!

"I should be the one to say thank you!" I turn my head to face him.

He looks puzzled but a hint of smugness can't escape his lips which form a smile.

"Me? Why?"

"Because you did a great job hosting Paradise Night! I don't feel lonely and I can study better. Thanks to you and Jaehyun." I hug him and bury my face on his chest.

Doyoung softens at my words and returns my hug "Anything for my girl! Now, let me shower from the sweat of walking home.. and maybe I need some ramen tonight. I'm always hungry after hosting the radio." He walks to his room and after collecting his clothes and towel, he enters the toilet.

I make my way to the kitchen. Taking a pot to boil water and choosing our favorite night snack. While he clean himself under the shower, I prepare the dish and the side dishes.

"Hmmm it smells amazing! Thanks for cooking it for me." Doyoung greets me with a fresh smell of mint shampoo and he takes the sit across of me.

"Saranghae~" he sincerely gives me a heart with his fingers and digs into the food.

After a stifled laugh, I also begin eating mine.

Once again a beautiful night spent with the best radio DJ, who is luckily mine. Doyoung... na do saranghae💛

[trillian-anders]

suspect - iii

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, graphic descriptions of crime scenes, angst, slow burn

word count: 4.3k

description: au detective!bucky barnes x investigative journalist!reader;

still wet behind his ears, detective barnes is given his very first homicide case, a woman no one seems to care about had been murdered. it’s only when investigative journalist reader brings the small details to his attention that he realizes there’s a bigger problem. a serial killer no one was paying attention to.

The smell of death. It is unlike any other smell and once it’s something you experience; you’ll never forget it.

Bucky thought he’d seen bad crime scenes. He thought the last body he’d seen had been the worst one. But he was proven wrong. He gagged entering the small apartment, immediately being hit with the smell. Even through the face mask it hit him fully that this body must have been decomposing for a while.

He walks to the back bedroom, the forensics team snapping pictures and bagging evidence in the living rom as he walked by. The first thing he sees when he enters the room are her feet. Her ankles bound to the bed with rope, her skin puffed up around the rope itself. The ties are tight. She’s naked, her eyes are swollen shut, he could see the ligature marks around her neck, her wrists bound to the top frame of the bed. A pool of blood under her left arm, dried and crusted. Her ring finger gone.

“How long do you think?” Bucky asked. The head coroner, Bruce, his arms crossed staring at the body. Bruce shakes his head and sighs heavily.

“Anywhere from… five days to a little over a week probably.” He squats down by the side of the bed, peeking into her nostrils, Bucky gagged when he noticed the maggots. Leaving the room and trying to keep his vomit down. As he stepped out on the asphalt outside, he ripped the mask from his face taking gulps of fresh air.

Later he would wash himself with lemons and stick his nose into a bag of coffee grounds. The smell burned itself into his nostrils and the image was hard to shake. He didn’t know if he would ever sleep again.

This time he did shave, his shaky hands nicking the skin of his neck. He tied his clothes in a black trash bag and set it with his laundry, something to be tackled later and he grabbed the manila folder on his coffee table. The ripped open envelope of Cheryl Hansen’s toxicology report.

The diner was familiar to him now, and he found you at the exact same booth you’d been in last time. The notebook in front of you, laptop closed off to the side. You had a cup of coffee sitting in front of you and an empty one across. The stainless thermos pot left on the table for him to serve himself.

“Jean is the only one on right now,” You explain to him, and the woman he assumed was Jean was dealing with a couple drunks and other late-night patrons. He pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Sorry for being late,” He sighs, “I had to get the smell off me.” You hum and he watches you shiver.

“It’s powerful.” You agree. And he wonders how you know what it smells like.

“Cheryl wasn’t the first victim.” He explains, setting the manila folder on the table, the open toxicology report of Cheryl’s on top. “Christine Jones was.” You sigh, looking over his hastily written notes. Everything he’d written down at the scene. How he found the body. What it looked like. What the apartment looked like. He gave you a minute while he made his coffee, plucking a creamer out of the bowl that had been left for the two of you.

“This had to have been his first,” You sigh, “The copycat… the Butcher usually doesn’t leave that kind of bloody mess.” Where her ring finger had been cut. The blood dripping down her arm.

“He usually cleans them up after.” He agrees. The blood from the finger was always cleaned before the body was disposed. His mind goes back to Cheryl’s hand. Her finger cut off at the joint, the blood half clotted like it had been done… “He cuts them off when they’re still alive.” You look up at him from the paper.

“What?”

“The finger,” Bucky explains, “He cuts them off while the girls are still alive.” It rolled like acid in his stomach.

“The Butcher didn’t do that.” Both of you know he didn’t. The Boston Butcher would take the ring finger, but it was always postmortem, the blood unable to clot. The blood unable to pump out through a cut off finger. He watches you cross your arms, leaning back against the booth, thinking. “So this copycat… he wants to murder, but he’s not confident.” You offer, “So he finds Christine… and ties her up.”

“And he removes her finger, and then strangles her.” Bucky finishes, sighing and placing his head into his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening, honestly.” A rough chuckle, “You were right.” The clink of your spoon on the little dish.

“I didn’t want to be.” You admit, “Honestly, but if this guy just killed twice in the same week…”

“Then he’s going to strike again soon.” He watches you swallow harshly, looking out the window of the diner into the parking lot.

“Where are her kids?” Bucky hadn’t known she had kids, but they apparently had been taken away by child protective services and were in foster care. Christine was struggling with a drug habit and had been disowned by her family.

He could tell how much it affected you.

“Tomorrow,” He says, “After a good night’s sleep…” which he sorely needed, “Are you able to help me talk to some of the girls?” He watches you nod, still staring out into the parking lot. You seem dazed and off kilter.

“Of course.”

Bucky wasn’t prideful, you decided. Which was a good quality in a person. You admired the fact that when you saw him in the coffee shop yesterday, he gave you faith in his belief, that maybe you could be right. He didn’t downplay it then. You admired him in the diner when he asked for your help even though 24 hours before he hadn’t truly believed you.

But you couldn’t sleep. You felt restless and sweat through your sheets. The normal lullaby of sirens and drunk yelling on the street was causing you stress and you were paranoid. You cleaned your entire apartment, clearing out your fridge, wiping down every surface and scrubbed the grout until you were to the point of exhaustion, falling asleep with the smell of bleach on your fingertips.

“You look like shit.” Sam said the next day, passing by your desk on his way in. You groaned, accepting the coffee he’d brought for you. The first sip as life’s blood, the first coffee of the day emptied and discarded in the trash can under your desk. “So, we’ve got a bigger story than we originally thought.”

“I’ll have five hundred on your desk in an hour,” You yawn, “Then I have to work on collections for the food drive.”

“When are you seeing the handsome detective again?” He asked, slight smirk as your brow furrows, “You told Riley he has strikingly blue eyes.” An eye roll made him laugh, “I’m just saying, maybe it’s kismet.” Like him and Riley.

“I’ve got work to do Sam.” He raised his hands defensively.

“You know where to find me if you want to talk.” A playful smirk on his face as he disappeared into his office.

Bucky was feeling a little better, sleeping in his own bed for longer than two hours made him feel far less fatigued and ready to tackle the day. Walking into the precinct he had a strange feeling and that feeling was further enraged by how serious Rumlow looked and Rumlow hardly ever looked serious.

“The Chief is here.” Rumlow tells him. Bucky’s eyes meet the glass window of Steve’s office, but the blinds are shut. “We’re going to have a meeting after this to talk about your vics.” Bucky’s stomach turned, which seemed to happen a lot lately. Queasy. The protein bar he shoved down for his breakfast sat like a brick in his stomach.

Alexander Pierce was a hard ass. In the three times he’s met Peirce face to face the man always had some kind of sneer on his face, like he knew he was better than everyone else.

“He likes the power.” Steve told him once while they were sitting on his back deck, and taking a sip from his beer Steve said, “He’s a prick.” Steve hated the guy and Bucky had to agree with him.

“We are starting a task force.” Pierce announced. “Our aim is to keep it under the radar,” His hands held the sides of the podium, like he was the President giving the State of the Union Address. “Which means the following, no talking to the press, no interviews, no leaked information. This is a closed-circuit case.” His eyes scanning the room, “The task force should not deter other normal duties and the numbers we require from you.”

The arrest numbers, a fucking joke. Like looking good on paper mattered more than serving and protecting. His eyes rest on Bucky, “Seeing as Barnes is the one who discovered the copycat, he will be leading the task force along with Rumlow. An agent from the FBI will be coming up to assist with the investigation. You two will decide who else will be helping you track down a suspect. I expect this not to get out to the media.” His eyes focused in on Bucky, “Under no circumstances do we want attention pulled to these murders. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Rumlow answered beside him. Bucky felt himself nod. He’s going to have to figure something out, or at least something to tell you.

…

Wanda and her brother Pietro were just two of the children left behind by one of the Boston Butcher’s victims. Magda Eisenhardt. Right at the end, Magda had been one of his last victims in the 90’s. But the twins kept themselves busy, while they worked for the victim’s relief fund, they also ran their own food collection and homeless shelter. The hand they were dealt, even after foster care was much worse than your own and they sympathized heavily with people left on the streets.

Your bag had quickly been discarded in the back office and you went to join Wanda in wiping down and organizing cans and packaged goods. It was a big drop off day, which meant you might be able to grab some to bring Sophie some groceries later. Someone, very kindly, donated the rest of their baby formula. A Boston mom who had enough money to buy in bulk.

“You think we can give her a couple cans?” You lift the two in your hand. “I think she’s pretty low.” Wanda nods, scribbling onto the clipboard before tapping it down on the counter.

“Is he really back?” Soft and unsure. Like she didn’t want the actual answer. She looks at you, terrified. You let out a deep breath.

“I think so.” She sinks into the chair behind her and you set the two cans down on the table before walking over to hug her.

“I talked to Nick yesterday.” Her hand rubbing your arm that was wrapped around her shoulders. “Maybe this is what we need to help us get him out.” You sigh,

“I think it’s a copycat,” She looks up at you, “but if he sees that it’s happening maybe the real Butcher will get angry that someone is doing such a sloppy job.” A moment of silence, Wanda sheds a tear and quickly wipes it away.

“I think we can give her those and you can take her some of the pasta and canned veggies.” Standing and removing herself from your arms, grabbing a cloth tote and putting the formula and aforementioned items inside and putting it off to the side. Wanda took the death of her Mother very hard. She had been in therapy for a long time and to your knowledge she still goes, once a week like clockwork.

Pietro told you once that she feels guilty, but you couldn’t imagine why. “She feels like it’s her fault.” Over coffee, “Like our Mom buying her a barbie dream house was the thing that got her killed.” Wanda knows it wasn’t her fault. Realistically. But more in practice it was a nagging guilt in the back of her brain that made her feel like she needed to do so much good in the world to make up for the fact that her Mom needed to make money and she’d cried and whined about wanting a Barbie dreamhouse for her birthday.

“Selfish.” She’d said once.

“You’re not selfish,” You would say, “How would you have known?” How could anyone know? You don’t know when it’s going to be the last time you talk to someone. You can’t possibly know when it’s that person’s last day. And there’s no way of knowing at six years old that your Mother will be ripped from this world by a psycho.

She always answered with a shrug.

“I’m meeting with the detective tonight,” You tell her, “We’re going to go try to talk to some of the girls.” She nods, turning to you her face a little red and blotchy,

“I’ll put the feelers out here,” She says, “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” You wrap her into a hug. Her arms tight around you.

“I’ll check back in tomorrow?” She nods, squeezing you a little harder before letting go. “Tell Pietro I said hi.”

“I will.”

…

Bucky was struggling and it wasn’t just because Rumlow hadn’t shut up since the meeting. But because he didn’t know what to do with you now. He knew the girls wouldn’t talk to him, and they definitely wouldn’t talk to Rumlow, but Pierce seemed to know about you. He seemed to know about the contact that Bucky had with you. Or maybe Bucky was just paranoid.

“He’s hoping to see you fail.” Steve told him, “That’s why he left you in charge… don’t let him win.” It made him uneasy. This could make or break him now and that fact did not go over his head. He could feel it as soon as Pierce said that he would oversee the task force. Just waiting for him to fail and slip real easy back behind his desk.

He sunk down behind his desk, drafting a text. Rumlow was going to be going with him to try to question some of the girls and Bucky knows that if you went with him to meet them Rumlow would have an issue with it. Especially since Pierce made such a big deal about it. No doubt he would try to kiss ass and gain favor by exploiting you.

Can’t meet up to interview. Meet at diner later?

He sighs, phone dropping heavily onto the desk. He looked across the room watching Rumlow speak closely with Pierce. It gave him a strange feeling. Like they were in on something he wasn’t. It wasn’t a secret that they knew each other. Pierce was the reason why Rumlow had even became a detective. Rumlow liked to boast nepotism between Steve and Bucky but he forgets that his own Stepfather is Chief of Police.

Rumlow doesn’t like to mention him and from the very few times Pierce had been brought up in his presence he’d visibly tensed. Bucky assumed that their relationship was strained, but the close and intimate conversation they were currently having would tell him otherwise.

Bucky cracked his knuckles. His phone dinged. Your reply,

I can go alone, diner when?

A huff, he texts back.

DO NOT GO ALONE. Just meet at diner around 12.

How dumb are you? Trying to go out alone when an active serial killer was on the loose, strolling around the red-light district by yourself. You either had a lot of confidence or a death wish.

I know someone, I’ll go talk to them and then meet you at the diner.

His brow furrows and he shook his head in disbelief,

Who do you know?

“Let’s go.” Rumlow grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and walks past Bucky without stopping. A glance up at where Pierce and Rumlow had just been talking showed Pierce glaring at his stepson’s back, his eyes flit to Bucky’s and his face became stone before turning his back.

The girls stood in small groups. Two or three, occasionally four. Whittled one by one until there would be a single girl standing alone. That’s when it would get dangerous. The goal, overall, was to see if the girls had dealt with anyone out of the ordinary lately.

Typically, serials don’t just start killing out of nowhere. There’s a steady progression of assault. Maybe there’s a guy who is a little aggressive. Maybe there’s a guy they get a bad feeling about. And hopefully someone would be willing to talk.

…

Sophie gave you a name when you’d dropped off the formula and canned goods. A girl Cheryl was really close with. “She said they were coworkers.” Sophie told you, “So she’s probably in the same situation.” A quick look found her address, not too far from where Sophie lived. You were going attempt to drop by, see if she was in and if not… then you would just have to go see if any of the girls would talk to you.

A knock on the apartment door, you could hear something going on inside. She must be home. Or at least, someone is. The door is ripped open, the chain jerked tight against the opening as a man looks out at you from inside.

“Can I help you?” Not friendly, not that you expected him to be.

“Is Angel here?” He pauses, looking behind him for a moment and talking to someone in the room before turning back.

“Who are you?” He didn’t turn you away so that’s good at least.

“I’m a friend of Sophie’s.” You cross your arms across your chest, feeling a chill. “Sophie told me to come talk to Angel about Cherry.” He looked back into the room, shutting the door and then reopening it, stepping back.

“Come on.” His head poking out into the hallway and shutting the door behind you. You could see the girl you were looking for, sitting just before you on the couch, curled up into herself, sniffling. Her eyes were red, hair messy and a tissue in her hand.

“What do you want?” She sounds congested and she doesn’t get up when you walk further into the apartment.

“I’m Y/N,” You offer, “I work with the VRF for those affected by—”

“The Butcher.” She nods, “I’ve heard.” You nod,

“Do you know who Cherry went with that night? Have you seen anyone suspicious?” A humorless laugh,

“Most of the johns are suspicious.” She shakes her head. But that’s fair, “I saw her get into the car, but I wasn’t paying attention to the plate or anything. It was normal…” A harsh swallow, “It just seemed so normal.”

“Do you remember anything about the car itself?” Sinking down onto the couch next to her, “Anything identifiable? Color? Make? Model?” She shrugs, balling the tissue into her fist.

“It was like… it looked like a cop car, but it wasn’t.”

“Like one of the ones they sell at auction.” The man spoke from his spot in the doorway, “An old police cruiser that had been stripped and sold and probably sold at auction.” You nod,

“Okay,” That’s helpful. Really helpful. “Did you get a glimpse of who was in the car, by any chance?”

“No.” She looks at her knees, “I’ve been afraid to go back out, since they found her.” Understandably so, “But I’m going to have to…” A pause, “I think you should go.”

It was clear she was having a hard time, you truly felt bad for her. The situation she must be in. “If you think of anything else.” She nods, taking the business card. Stepping back out onto the street you found yourself a little more confident than before.

A police cruiser gone to auction was a lead. It would at least give you a list of suspects. The excitement in that, was unreal.

…

Bucky rest his head on the steering wheel after having parked in front of the diner. His head pounding. He honestly didn’t know how much longer he would be able to do this and it just started. He felt like he would gain an inch, a girl willing to say something. Anything, and as soon as she started to open up and get some real ground with him, Rumlow would say something cheap.

He’s fucking up the investigation.

But it’s just him. Bucky thought Rumlow was a good detective. Before this. But now, how did the guy solve anything? He clearly made the girl uncomfortable. And he wanted to throttle Rumlow when her voice resigned, said, “I have to get going.” Before moving to a different block.

“They’re disgusting.” Rumlow spat on the ground. Bucky groaned at the smell of dip spit. “Like talk about lack of dignity.”

“They’re people too.” Bucky wanted to go. Maybe this is how he fails, Rumlow is his iron anchor, drowning him. A knock on his window startles him, sitting back in his drivers’ seat and sighing he sees your face through the glass and kills the ignition.

“You good?” You ask him as he steps from the car. He scrubs his hand over his face, head still pounding.

“Yeah, I think I just need to eat.” He watches Marie give you a strange look as the two of you walk to what seemed to be your normal table, something you shrug off as you drop your bag heavily on the seat squished between you and the window as he sat across from you.

Soda and iced tea. Bucky ordered a burger and you a club sandwich.

“They don’t want me talking to you,” He starts with. “Chief made it clear that he wanted no press involvement.” You sigh across from him,

“So what are you going to do?” He was trying to read your face, but you seemed as though you’d been expecting him to say that. Like it didn’t surprise you in the slightest. He thought about it.

He thought about what he wanted to do. He’d been thinking about it all day. “My gut is telling me to work with you.” He sits back as Marie comes with the plates, a soft thank you and a smile. “I want to work with you.” And he wanted to know more. Why you ran this relief fund. Why you were so passionate about it. He had a theory. But he would need to look into it a bit more, or he could just ask.

“I got a lead.” You grin at him, plucking a fry from your plate, “So Angela Bennet, she goes by Angel, a friend of Cheryl’s, she said she saw Cheryl get into a retired police cruiser, like the ones they sell at auction.” He feels his mouth drop slightly,

“Like the old white and blue Fords?” You nod, popping another fry into your mouth.

“I can run a search for cars gone to auction.” He takes a bite of his burger. Maybe that’s something else he can talk to Steve about. Steve bought his Dad’s old cruiser years ago as a novelty. Steve often cleared stuff for auction and would maybe help him profile someone who would want to buy a police cruiser, maybe the type of guys that would go to those auctions to buy. “My friend Steve, he would know more about the old cruisers.” They’d had a huge overhaul in 2015 at their precinct. New, updated cruisers with more bells and whistles. They’d gone out in reliability in the last decade of having them.

“If you could get a good picture of one,” You start, “We can start asking around.” That was a good idea.

“Tomorrow, maybe we should go talk to Fury.” If Fury was the Butcher, then he would be able to give them some insight into what kind of person they’re looking for. If he wasn’t… well Bucky could cross that bridge when he got to it.

“I can’t tomorrow.” You take a sip of your drink, “We have the group meeting tomorrow for the VRF.”

“Do a lot of people go to that?” How had he never heard of this before? You shrug,

“We pull a descent crowd.”

“Well maybe that’s what we could do tomorrow.” And he could talk to some of the people attached to the 90’s cases. Get some information, “But I would have to bring Rumlow.” He just wanted to get rid of him, this pain in his ass, Rumlow the insensitive shit.

“Why?” Bucky sighs, sitting back against the booth.

“He’s my partner for the case now that it’s a serial.” A shake of his head, “They’re sending someone up from the FBI too, trying to get ahead of it.” You roll your eyes across from him.

“Ahead of the bad press, you mean.” A harsh sigh, “Back in the 90’s they did the same thing, no one even knew that the Butcher existed until they took Fury in for questioning.” Maybe he should ask. Maybe he should just…

“How do you know so much about this?” He watched you stiffen slightly, “Why are you so invested?” You dropped the fry you’d been toying with back on your plate before sighing and leaning back, matching his posture.

“Because my Mom was one of the victims.”

[misssophiachase]

For @klaroline-events​ KC Bingo - “Flower Shop” On FF and AO3

Who says the customer is always right? 

You Don’t Bring Me Flowers

“She told me I never give her flowers,” he huffed. “How was I supposed to know that was a thing?”

“Who would have thought that giving someone flowers was a thing,” she shot back wryly. “You’re really asking the owner of this type of establishment that question?”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “I can’t do anything right hence my impromptu trip to what is, I’m sure, a very fine establishment.”

“Well, you’re here, so that’s a start,” she murmured. “And as much as I’d love to discuss the merits of giving flowers versus not giving them, it’s sort of busy in here right now so...”

“Oh of course, my apologies,” he replied, shelling over a wad of notes for his purchase. 

“How about a card?”

“Why do I need a card? It’s not like she won’t know who they’re from, right?” 

Caroline had to resist the urge not to roll her eyes at a customer. If this guy was her boyfriend she’d have dumped him by now. Who was she kidding? She never would have gone out with him in the first place. 

Yes, maybe he was kind of attractive with those untamed, blonde locks, short stubble that demanded to be touched and lips the colour of her favourite primrose. But he clearly had no idea about how to be a decent human being. 

Call her traditional but Caroline loved flowers and the generous act of giving them, hence why she started her own business five years earlier. 

Wild at Heart wasn’t big compared to some shops but what it lacked in size it made up for in its artistic bouquets as well as its warm ambience from the freshly baked, pumpkin scones in the adjoining cafe to her friendly staff. Well, except when Katherine was in a bad mood or hung over.

“A card is an accompaniment to the flowers and allows you to properly convey your message.”

“There’s definitely a message I’d like to convey but not sure it is very card friendly, if you know what I mean?”

Caroline was incredibly curious at his response and had to bite her tongue from responding. The obvious question being why he was buying flowers in the first place? But she could see the long line up of impatient customers behind him and knew they wouldn’t appreciate her views on the matter.

“If that’s the case, I think it’s best we just stick with the flowers.” 

Caroline wondered about his choice of flowers too. Most men, who had no idea about flowers, went straight for the roses. Beautiful, yes, but they were a safe option. Mister Sunshine, however, had chosen the namesake at the heart of her shop.

It was a combination of wildflowers. A mixture of Lavender, Daisies, Forget Me Nots and Queen Anne’s Lace to name a few. Although they were her absolute favourites, it was usually the last bouquet to sell in a day. Given it was only 9:09 am this was a first.

“No, I think you might have a point. So, what do you suggest I write?” She could hear the impatient groans from the people behind. 

“Look, here’s a card that says To and From,” she gestured to the plainest gift tag they had in the shop. One she only really kept on hand for situations like this. “All you need to do is insert names, easy right? Then you won’t feel the need to share opinions which might negate the positive act of giving flowers in the first place.”

A slight smile tugged at the edges of his mouth and Caroline was struggling not to reciprocate but then she remembered he was an ass. 

Before he could reply, she pushed that and the flowers towards him trying to ignore the way those crimson lips curved into a knowing smile followed by a flash of not just one dimple but two. 

“Next, please?”

27 hours later

Klaus had been standing outside the shop for a good fifteen minutes. He was debating whether or not to go inside. 

He looked down at the flowers he’d purchased yesterday, surprisingly still in relatively good condition given the way she’d thrown them at him. 

That would teach him to buy her flowers.  

Most people would take the rejection and either re-gift the flowers or throw them in the trash, Klaus, however, thought they were too beautiful for that and decided recycling was probably the best course of action. 

It had absolutely nothing to do with the beautiful, sarcastic blonde who’d sold them to him. Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.  

“Let me guess, you couldn’t help yourself and gave her the non card friendly version?” 

He turned slightly to his left, noticing the familiar blonde watering the flower pots outside the shop. He thought she looked stunning yesterday in a blue sweater, the colour of which he’d committed to memory, but today her jeans and white t-shirt combination was distracting him even more so. 

“Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that my flowers are firmly grasped in your hand,” she noted. “If you’re looking for a refund I’m afraid...”

“Uh, no, of course not,” he stumbled. “I actually thought you might like them back.”

“I’m assuming they didn’t go down too well with...”

“Rebekah.”

“I’d apologise but given the way you were speaking yesterday I don’t really blame her for thinking you’re probably a bit of an ass.”

“Oh really? Is this how you usually talk to your customers, love?”

“Well, you’ve already paid for the flowers so I figure I’m safe.”

“You think you know me?”

“I know your type.”

“Wow, I’m a type,” he replied. “Please, tell me all about it.” 

“You did something wrong and you think buying this Rebekah flowers is going to fix everything. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work like that.”

“What do you think I did?” Klaus was beginning to get a complex and had no idea that a stranger, albeit a beautiful one, could make him feel so guilty. 

“Something bad if you’ve still got those flowers,” she murmured, her blue eyes gazing into his intently. “Maybe Rebekah wants more than flowers, did you ever think of that?”

“How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“If I gave you these flowers, would you like them?”

“I think that’s beside the point and extremely insensitive to poor Rebekah,” she scoffed. “I think I’m starting to realise her issues with you now.”

“Rebekah is my sister.”

“Yeah sure and that guy over there is my husband.” Klaus felt his chest constrict, not realising just how disappointed he was to hear that.  

When he’d made the trip, Klaus was secretly hoping she’d agree to go out with him. He knew he hadn’t made the best first impression but he truly felt like there was something between them. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, love,” he murmured. 

“Hang on, Rebekah really is your sister?”

“Unfortunately and you’re married, so it’s probably best I take my flowers and go.”

“What exactly did you do to your sister, you know besides not giving her flowers enough?”

“Her husband is in the Army and currently stationed in The Middle East. She’s heavily pregnant and incredibly moody and apparently I haven’t lavished enough attention on her. In my defence, she’s been like this since we were children but she’s one hundred times worse now.”

“Well, that I wasn’t expecting.” 

“I’ve taken her to every doctor’s appointment even though she complained about my supposed lack of driving skills and I’ve made plenty of late night trips to the store to buy the most disgusting combinations of foods to fulfil her voracious appetite. Then I thought flowers might help but apparently they weren’t to her taste.”

“Wow, you’ve been needing to get that off your chest for a while, huh?”

“You have no idea. I love her but she drives me crazy,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry to download on you, I should really let you get back to work.”

“I’m curious, why did you pick those flowers?” He looked down at them noting the diverse array of colours and shapes. He’d found himself immediately drawn to them in the shop but not exactly sure why at the time. 

“My sister, as it turns out, wanted roses, hence the tantrum. I suppose I thought these were understated, but at the same time wild and unexpected in a really beautiful way.”

“They grow not far from here actually,” she shared. “I usually go out and pick them a couple of times a week if you wanted to come with me?” 

Was she asking him out? Klaus couldn’t believe it, his initial disappointment a distant memory. 

“Your husband won’t mind?” She gave him a wicked smile, a slight blush crossing her creamy cheeks. 

“I won’t tell him if you don’t tell Rebekah,” she teased. 

When they married three years later, the bridal party carried wildflowers Caroline had picked herself. Rebekah’s daughter Florence was the flower girl and Klaus promised in his vows to always write a card to accompany his flowers even if she knew they were from him.

[peachyteabuck]

nothing ever lasts forever ~ act iii, “if we ruled the world”

summary: a sort-of non-avengers au where everyone has their powers and absolutely no one is in a highly powerful mob (or, at least, that’s what the feds think). 

or, a commission in three parts for anonymous, who asked for a series about wanda x natasha x reader.

pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader

words: 3,501

trigger warnings: switch!nat, sub!wanda, dom!reader, strap ons, degradation, bratty wanda, brat taming 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

READ ACT I, ACT II

Wanda gets the text that night, just as you’ve fallen asleep and Wanda was about to follow suit. Your light snores fill the room, Wanda listens for them as her too-bright phone screen burns her eyes.

Office. Tomorrow morning. 10.

And then a knife emoji. Sharp. Natasha Romanoff does not tolerate a lot of things, including tardiness.

Wanda goes to bed afraid and wakes up even worse – the churning in her gut only intensifying as she walked up the concrete path that lead into Natasha’s house. She’s never been more terrified in her life. Is she about to be fired? Are you dead? Is she dead? Is Wanda a ghost? Has Natasha been convincing Wanda that she’s been alive this whole time and now it’s time to break the façade and have Wanda move onto the ghost realm?

Being called into Natasha’s office and being asked to sit in the center chair is nothing short of demoralizing, intimidating. She’s seen it happen before, clients or employees Natasha has to deliver terrible news to – they never take it well, always crying and sobbing and wailing. They always have to be carried away by the guards stationed outside Natasha’s office and into their cars.

Will that have to happen to her? Will two giant-ass dudes have to carry her outside so she can have an emotional breakdown on the impeccably well-kept grass? What if someone sees her having said emotional breakdown on the impeccably well-kept grass? What if Wanda Maximoff gets caught by the many institutions of which she is running and hiding from?

The chair has a heavy dent in it from the other shameful citizens (and non-citizens, and those not defined as people) of whom have sat in the chair before her. Natasha doesn’t meet Wanda’s gaze, keeping her eyes focused on the bare desk in front of her.

Both of them can barely breathe, each having an equally silent crisis. Neither speaks until the door has been long shut, the sounds outside the room blocked out by the heavy doors.

“I once had sex with your girlfriend,” Natasha says, so quick the words mesh into one.

Wanda shakes her head, running her hands through her hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Natasha exhales deeply, clenching her eyes shut before speaking again. “I had sex with your girlfriend.”

Wanda eyes go wide with sadness – worried her worst nightmare is true. “She…you…she chea-“

Natasha holds out her hands, only now realizing her mistake in phrasing. “NO! No! Absolutely not. No, that’s not what happened. That’s not…No, Wanda, she didn’t cheat on you with me, that’s not what I’m saying.”

Wanda – still wringing her hands – breathes deeply. “Then what…what…”

Natasha sighs, trying to find the right words. “Do you remember when Bucky got hurt? Like, when his arm got,” she wiggles the same arm Bucky lost in the accident – the one Natasha inadvertently caused.

Wanda looks confused but answers anyway. “Yeah, like a year ago.”

“I got, I got super drunk that night. And it was, uh, the woman is now your girlfriend, she uh…she helped me that night – she uh, she got me back to her apartment. Made sure I slept and didn’t die choking on my own vomit. And took care of me the next morning…” Natasha sighs, worried about what she’s going to say. “The next morning, we had sex.” Natasha whispers the last sentence sadly, wringing her hands. “We haven’t talked since.”

Wanda, stunned, says nothing. Each time she believes she’s found the words they fail to capture the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts flashing in front of her eyes. Blood pounds in her ears and her hands shake and her heart pounds – nevertheless, the two of them continue to converse even as Wanda’s eyes water. Everything’s a blur – the only clarity when Wanda thumps her way up the several flight of stairs that lead into her, your apartment.

She opens the door hastily, hands shaking near-violently as she finds the right key and turns it in the lock. If this were any other day, she’d step in as quietly as possible – try to be a voyeur in her own home to try and catch even a second of you cooking peacefully. You’re in one of her shirts, a large one that hits your thighs and rides up when you bent down or stand on your tip-toes or bend forward over a pot.

Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious, enough to distract from the matter at hand – to stop Wanda in her tracks as thick spices and hearty herbs fills her nostrils.

Still, it only allows her a few seconds of peace before she’s stepping into the kitchen, fists clenched at her sides and breathing quick and shallow. The wrath, the dread, it blinds and deafens her – the only thing Wanda hears being the only words she could hope would leave your lips.  

“I mean, I know what you did, what you do. You’ve told me enough I just…” you sigh. “I had no idea. I like, sort of knew what Nat did. I just didn’t have any idea that you two knew each other. Or that she, uh, was your boss.”

Wanda looks as if she’s about to cry, her chest heaving. “Are you sure?”

You nod, moving toward her but not touching her. “Wanda, I’d tell you if I fucked your boss the second I would’ve found out – but, babe,” you try to calm your beating heart by digging your nails into your palms. It doesn’t work. “Even if I knew, you have to understand. This was over a year ago, I haven’t seen her since, and I love you. We’ve built a home together. Me having sex with her doesn’t change that.”

There’s silence, then, the thick kind that comes from a fight without resolve. You’re worried she’ll storm out, only to return when she decides – or, worse, tell you to pack your things and leave. Wanda does neither of those things, though, instead silently moving to the stir the pot before tasting at the wooden spoon.

You know everything will be fine when she makes a comment about needing more salt – the special kind you bought a long while ago from the farmer’s market that somehow hadn’t run out. Your mother once told you that the kitchen could end all disagreements, all squabbles and verbal throwdowns. You never really believed you until now, as you both silently cook, and then eat, and then clean up together.

Not a word is exchanged until you’re both in bed, you curled around her on your side as she lays flat on her back. It’s then, after the sun has long set and the last scents of food had gone up though the vents, that one of you speaks.

Wanda swallows, mumbling something that, whether or not is her intention, only she can hear. “Natasha says she wants to see you.”

Your eyes narrow, brows furrowed as you pick up your head to look at her. “What?”

Wanda doesn’t meet your gaze as she speaks. “I talked to Natasha this morning about it. About you. That’s why, uh. I came home like that. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just…wanted to talk about it…”

You nudge closer to her as she trails off, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay, babe, you don’t have…I trust you. It’s okay.”

Wanda nods before continuing. “She and I were talking, and she asked to see you after. Wanted my permission, though. Wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“Are you?” you whisper as your heart rate picks back up – though, this time, for a much different reason.urus

She nods. “I mean, I’m not some overprotective Dad on prom night – I’m never gonna stop you from seeing someone. Told her it was up to you.”

You exhale deeply, still silent. It takes a long while for you to say anything, and even then it doesn’t do much to dissolve the thick tension in the room. “I do want to see her again,” Wanda clears her throat but you continue speaking before she can begin. “But I want you there, too.”

That’s how, two weeks later, you find yourself intoxicated in a way you can’t describe, standing next to your bed as both women kneel before you.

You’re not drunk. Drunk is too extreme. Drunk makes you seem rash, impulsive – like you don’t know what you’re doing, why you’re doing it. Makes it seems like you don’t want to remember this, want to be able to blame all

You’re not drunk, you’re bold. You’re two sips into some old-as-balls bourbon you got when you graduated college – gifted to you by a professor who thought it meant he’d let you get into his pants. Fool. You’re a woman with fire resting on your skin and the world teetering at your fingertips.  You control everything. And today, “everything” is defined as two of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen on their knees in front you.

It’s natural, wonderful – the feeling of looking down at them with their big eyes and hair pulled back into French braids and dark collars on their milky skin. Neither of them has leashes – yet…but judging by the glint in Natasha’s eyes and the smirk playing at her lips that you’ll need to get it from its resting place on her desk very soon.

“I think this is the stuff dreams are made of,” you say to no one and both of them. “Two sluts at my feet for me to use. Two perfect little toys at my disposable. I wonder what I should have you do first…”

At the foot of the best is a loveseat, draped upon the loveseat is a towel covered in sex toys – placed carefully with even amounts of space between them. A few empty spots mark where toys used to be – most notably the collars and the baby pink butt plug Wanda’s wearing.

It’s the double-ended dildo that ends up catching your eye. It’s half baby blue and half black, mixing in the middle; thick, long, girthy. Wanda bought it for you awhile back – a gift after she had to leave for a last-minute business trip with little explanation but a lot of apology. You didn’t mind, her explanation for her job had been quite believable and you did not worry. Still, you didn’t refuse the gifts she showered you with when she got back eight days later.

You smile at the memory, but also from the anticipation. You turn back to the two women on the floor, snapping in each of their faces before pointing to opposite walls. Despite this, they wait for your verbal command before moving a muscle.

Such good girls, the both of them.

“Now,” you tell them calmly. Obediently and without hesitation, they do as they’re told. It’s then that you can admire their matching lingerie sets. They were expensive (you hesitate to spend that much on rent, let alone four pieces of skimpy, see-through fabric), you can’t deny it. But the crotchless panties, framing each of their wet pussies perfectly? The matching bras are just as frilly as the panties and the deep maroon contrasts both of their pale skin tones.  Intricate lace is almost, almost distracting from their pert nipples and skin you want to bite and bruise and mark. “Face opposite walls so I can watch you fuck yourself properly.”

They’re both so beautiful, so desperate. Through the chorus of their moans and whimpers you can hear their wet cunts fucking back on the thick double-ended dildo.

Wanda, as usual, is already making those noises that mean she’s about to come – her hips making tighter movements and wide eyes screwed shut.

“Aw, does my baby wanna come?” you coo, moving the sweaty hair away from her reddened face.

Wanda whines high in her throat, fucking back on the dildo with vigor. “Yes, yes yes please lemme come I wanna come Mommy please!”

Natasha, the quieter of the two, nods furiously as her face scrunches up in concentration. Her moans are low and breathy, hips driving backwards in target hits against Wanda.

Part of you wants to deny them, watch them with cry and choke on their own tears as they focus on following orders, on being good, on not coming. Another part of you wants to watch them fall apart, watch their thighs shake and legs give out and blissful faces find their way long their faces and listen to them moan and cry and thank you with hushed, raspy voices.

It doesn’t take much deliberating for the latter side of you to win out – to give them permission and instruct them to rub their clits as you take another sip of alcohol. Small sparks dance along Wanda’s fingers as they move over her pussy, control over her powers ceding to that over her pleasure. Some of the small swirls of red-orange-yellow-blue seem to dance between their bodies, affecting Natasha as well, who cries out an especially pained noise as each spark touches and subsequently dissipates against her skin. The thrusts of their hips become even more erratic as the waves of their orgasms come crashing down on them, their breathing only steadying as you began to speak once more.

“Natasha,” you snap once in her direction, waiting for her body to jerk as a signal she’s paying attention. “Get atop Wanda…” you pause, then laugh. “I mean, straddle her to keep her hips pined to the ground.”

Wanda, normally incredibly mousy, seems to be drinking from the same fire-filled cup you’ve been sipping.

“Yeah, as if Natasha could top anybody,” she snorts. You and Natasha both snap your heads towards her, yours crooking to the side.

“You want to say that again?” you more command than ask.

Wanda, voice back to usual smallness, swallows loudly. “Uh, I, uh. I said. I said Natasha,” she coughs, tries to save herself. It doesn’t work. “I said, ‘as if Natasha could dom anybody,’ Mommy.”

Silence – a heavy one – falls over the room. You turn around, slowly, meeting Wanda’s eyes first and then Natasha’s. The latter woman looks to you for permission.

With one, small nod, she stands and looms over the other woman.

“You’re going to regret that,” you say – mostly to yourself. The wicked smile, though, is for the both of them.

“Do you want to test me?” Natasha hisses. She loops her forefinger in the stainless-steel O-ring and jerks Wanda forward so their lips are barely touching. Wanda takes it as an invitation, but pouts as Natasha pulls away. “You think you’re getting anything but a punishment after what you pulled?”

Wanda’s large eyes drain of mischief with every passing second that she studies the woman in front of her – realizing her mistake. It’s not long until she’s looking at her for assistance from you, her pleading eyes and cat-like features so cute you almost give in to her silent prayers.

Keyword: almost.

“Answer your Daddy,” you say plainly. You press your thighs together, desperate for friction but not wanting to give in just yet.

“N-no,” Wanda stutters. “No, Daddy.”

Natasha pulls at Wanda’s collar once more, hissing through her teeth. “I’ll give you one more chance to correct yourself.”

You can practically hear Wanda’s petrified gulp and you relish the fear in her wide eyes. “No, Daddy. I understand I deserve a punishment.”

“Good,” she says, letting the collar go. “now go lay on the bed.”

Wanda does as she’s told – resting her head in your lap. It gives you the perfect view of her face as she prepares to get fucked out of her mind.

Natasha grabs the fake cock and harness from the toy collection and pulls it on easily, the jingling of the individual straps like music to her hears. You pet at her hair, cupping her chin and cooing down at her.

“You gonna be a good girl for Daddy?” you ask.

She nods, lip pulled between her teeth. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a dirty slut for Daddy while Mommy watches?”

“Yes Mommy.”

Natasha’s ready, then, and announces it by backing up against a wall with the fake cock bobbing against her stomach. “Good girl, now come prep Daddy’s cock.”

Wanda moves to stand, but immediately drops to her knees when Natasha glares at her and hisses, “Don’t you dare.”

She crawls across the room, head hung in shame and pussy soaked with anticipation. Wanda only looks up to wrap her lips around the silicon head, one of Natasha’s hands cradling the back of her neck with the other tangled in her hair. “I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you hear Natasha mumble as Wanda gags for the first time. “Can’t wait to make you come over and over, watch you not know whether to beg me to stop or keeping going. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Wanda nods, never breaking eye contact with Natasha.  

“You better not be touching yourself, you needy little thing,” you tsk from across the room as your fingers rub at your own clit. “Dirty sluts don’t get to come, do they.”

Wanda does her best to shake her head as Natasha continues to fuck her throat.

Sloppy, wet sounds punctuate Natasha’s words. “You like that, don’t you, baby girl? You like taking this big cock down your throat like this?”

Before Wanda can nod, Natasha’s pulling her head away suddenly, the woman on the floor gasping for air. She barely has time to catch her breath before Natasha’s picking her up and slamming her back against the wall, Wanda’s legs instinctively wrapping around Natasha’s waist.

Wanda moans, loud and unabashed, as Natasha fucks into her. You grab an unused vibrator from the end of the bed and begin to fuck yourself with it, the thrusts of the toy timed with Natasha’s. It’s good – it’s all so good – and your vision begins to cloud around the edges as you and Wanda both come together one, two times.

You’re breathing heavy when Natasha decides Wanda’s had enough, laughing as Wanda’s eyes remain unfocused and her breath comes out in pants.

“Pathetic,” Natasha mumbles just loud enough for you to hear. She lets go of Wanda’s hips, the woman collapsing onto the floor with weak knees. Still, that harsh exterior melts away as Wanda lays there, motionless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Natasha crouches down, then sits next to her, face softening. “Aw,” she coos, pulling Wanda into her so that she’s sitting on Natasha’s lap on the floor. “Such a good little girl for me. For us.”

Natasha rocks Wanda back and forth, giving her the occasional kiss to her temple or cheek or wherever else she can reach. You watch them for a minute or two, watch your two favorite people in the whole world mold themselves to each other, oblivious to whatever happened to go on around them. Eventually you go to the bathroom to dampen a cloth with warm water and get a glass of water (or, in this case, a mug you’d been meaning to take back to the kitchen for about a week. It only held water before, anyway, so you don’t feel that bad when you give it to Natasha to hold for your exhausted girlfriend to drink out of).

Wanda whimpers when you wipe down her pussy, flinching away and trapping your hand between her thighs. Before you can comfort her, though, Natasha does.

“Shh libchen,” she coos into her sweaty hairline. “Let Daddy care for you alright?”

Wanda makes a noise high in her throat to signal how much she really doesn’t want the terry cloth against her center, but nonetheless allows Natasha to hold her thighs open as you clean her up. It’s awhile before Wanda full returns to reality – awhile before her breathing goes back to normal, her pupils becoming smaller, her legs not shaking.

“You wanna go to bed or get something to eat?” you ask.

Wanda doesn’t respond, but her droopy eyes and limp body answer the question for you.

“Let’s put her to bed and order food in few hours,” you tell Natasha. “The diner down the street is 24-hour, menu’s on the fridge. One of us can call later.”

Natasha whispers an “okay,” careful not to wake Wanda. She lifts the sleeping woman into the bed you share with her, watching her for a moment before beckoning you over. You oblige, because of course you do. Noiselessly, you and Natasha lay on either side of Wanda, your hands touching ever so lightly as fatigue acts as a fire blanket – putting the previous actions of the night to rest.

You all fall asleep like that, sweaty limbs tangled and chests heaving in sync. In truth, you never could’ve asked for anything better – this, being with the both of them, is bliss. Hopefully, you never have to be without either of them ever again.