#in my defense you’re honor i’ve lost my mind

[the-ghost-of-mr-dolphin]

it’s NOT adam and eve! It’s ALEX AND STEVE

[calisources]

NETFLIX'S   COBRA   KAI.   all   sentences   were   taken   from   netflix's   cobra   kai   television   show,   from   season   one   to   season   five   at   the   time   of   releasing   this   meme.   please   change   pronouns,   names   and   locations   as   you   see   fit.   some   lines   might   come   from   the   karate   kid   trilogy   itself.

“Never mind your past mistakes; don’t let them determine your future.”

“I may not always win, but I never back out of a fight.”

“Put good into the world and good will come back to you.”

“Many of us used to be enemies. But rivalries don’t need to last forever.”

“We may have taken some losses. But it’s not about how you start, it’s about how you finish.”

“If I’m extra hard on you, it’s because you have the ability to be better than me.”

“You’re a sensei. It’s who you are. If you can’t see that, you’re blind.”

“Everybody’s got a sob story. Doesn’t give you the right to be a bully.”

“If you have hate in your heart, then you have already lost.”

“When the fight comes to you, you have to be ready to fight back.”

“You just gotta feel the energy and just live in the moment, you know?”

“Kicks get chicks.”

“The best defense is more offense.”

“Clearly, our students want us to find a way to work through our differences, I know you don’t want to join Miyagi-Do, but at least you have to respect it.”

“You are the only one who can get up when you are down.”

“You gotta understand, man. I was taught karate was for defense only. It’s always gonna be tough to respect Cobra Kai.”

“Sometimes the scars you can’t see are the ones that hurt the most.”

“I wasn’t taught the difference between mercy and honor and I paid for it.”

“Some kids need a little aggression.”

“It may not seem brave, but sometimes, avoiding conflict is one of the most heroic things you can do.”

“I’m gonna have to face him sooner or later. Might as well be today.”

“If your enemy insists on war, then you take away their ability to wage it.”

“The world shows no mercy, so why should we? Some people have it good, but the rest of us we have to fight for every inch of what’s ours. Not just to score a point. For everything.”

“Nobody is more badass than Mr. Myagi.”

“All that Miyagi-Do mumbo jumbo, that might score you points in a tournament. But now you’re in the real world kid, you might wanna learn to strike first.”

“I don’t think of you as a pawn. I think of you as a king.”

“I still live with the fear. We all do on some level. I just try to not let it ever win.”

“You’ve come this far. This is your fight now. So whatever happens, it’s up to you.”

“Karate is not a phase, it’s a way of life. You can leave it for a while, but it never leaves you.”

“You may know the moves, but none of that matters unless you have balance.”

“You and I, this… we aren’t done.”

“I’ve been fighting my whole life. I sure as hell ain’t afraid of you.”

"I wanted to see how much strength you had in your heart to accomplish what you need to do."

"Every time I try to fight for what's right, somebody gets hurt. I can't fail these kids again."

"This guy just destroys people's lives, bit by bit, and he never faces any consequences. You know what I see? Four consequences right here."

"I wanted to win All Valley more than anything. "

"There's a difference between being heard and being listened to. They heard you, but they listened to me."

"I was trying to make my students tough."

"Defending honor of Miyagi-Do, never a waste of time. Nor is helping friend."

"Everything was supposed to be better after the tournament, but it's getting worse. I'm becoming someone I don't want to be."

 "You know when you first met me, I was a messed up kid. But you gave me a job, and a home, and a purpose. You can't just give up.

"I'm so sorry for the things I said back in the day. The things that I did. Look, I wanted to apologize to you so many times."

"I really respect you for taking the time you needed to find yourself, but I need that time too."

"Right and wrong, there is no such thing. There are only winners and losers. Cobra Kai builds winners because we are willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top."

"Youth is not a liability. It is the greatest power."

"The roots are strong, the tree will survive."

"Miyagi-do existed way before any of us an will still exist long after we're dead. "

"Now the real pain begins, Danny Boy."

"Now that's the Cobra Kai student I remember!"

"You just don't want to admit there has always been a little Cobra Kai in you."

"I wanted to prove that I was better. A better fighter, a better man..... I was fighting against, your father was fighting for."

"We can't do this without you. Sensei."

"It's blood. So what? Make believe it's HIS! This guy wants to BREAK you! HUMILIATE you! "

"A man can't stand, he can't fight. A man can't breathe, he can't fight. A man can't see, he can't fight."

"You know… When MY father died, I spent a lot of time thinking I hadn't been such a great son. It seemed to me like I could have listened a little more, spent a little more time with him together."

"Now You're gonna learn to listen to us and do as your told. and if you don't, you better strap yourself in for one hell of a rough ride ."

"Karate isn’t all punching and kicking. It’s actually more about balance."

"It’s a lot easier to knock something down than it is to lift it up."

"My path wasn’t a straight line. And yours is still being written."

"That's Bullshit, You tortured me."

"It's considered unethical to pouch students."

"I didn't turn you into anything, Danny Boy. I only brought up what was already inside."

"All I had to do was to wind you up and get out of the way."

"If you are being honest with yourself, you know you liked it. You were powerful. . .free."

"Actions have consequences, Mr. LaRusso."

"How easy it's gonna be, to put Cobra Kai gis around both of your kids."

[theladybarnes]

READY TO COMPLY - CHAPTER TWELVE: END OF BEGINNING

“Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye, You better save it for The middle of the night when things aren't black and white”

▸ summary: trust is lost amongst friends, but there may be something in the horizon ▸ characters: tony stark ft. natasha romanoff & peter parker ▸ word count: 4.1k ▸ warnings: semi-angst  ▸ series masterlist

When a heart gets broken, it sometimes can feel as if the person has died. In this case, you think it would be better if you did. But that’s not how life works. 

 “We’re heading up now, Squirt. Better buckle up.” 

 You snapped your head up from your lap to find Happy looking down at you. A curious look on his face before he glanced at your lap. The book you had found in the airport gift store an hour ago laid open on the first page. Several attempts were made to try and read the story. But to your dismay, you weren’t able to keep focus. Often looking out in the distance as you continued to recall the events of the other night.

 “You’ll find me?” … “No, Bucky. Not this time.”

 The look on Bucky’s face still haunted you. What had been words of a bond that was almost unbreakable, was torn apart in mere minutes of a fight. It’s been a day since you’ve left the bunker, and you feared a part of you has been there since. 

 Nodding your head, you tuck the book into your bag and place it on the floor beside your feet before you turn to stare out the window. Above the noise of the jet outside, you were still able to detect the worried mumbling from Happy and Tony. Since the two of you returned back to Berlin, you had been unusually quiet.

 Tony for once, did not try to make you talk things over. Even when he was supposed to report back to the accords. When asked whether or not you were going to sign on the accords, he stated that you were neither an avenger nor involved in this incident. By some chance, all the cameras had lost footage in the airport. So as far as the JTC or The UN were aware, you had been taken by the winter soldier to Siberia.

 “Is it alright if I sit here, Ms. Stark?” 

 Spider-Man or Peter, who had introduced himself once you made it to the airport, had boarded the plane with you guys. Now sheepishly pointing over to the seat beside you with a friendly smile while he waited for you to reply. But all you did was simply nod your head before turning to gaze back out the window. 

 The shuffling sound of him adjusting into his seat and buckling up is the only thing between you until the plane finally begins to ascend into the air. It’s a long flight home and you wish that you had taken Tony up on his offer of some sleeping pills. But with your mind already daydreaming, you’re a little too scared to imagine what sleep would bring.

 “Sorry about the fight at the airport.” Peter said suddenly. “Those repulsors that you had were pretty cool. Mr. Stark mentioned they were a prototype for a more mobile type defense but the two of you adjusted them to make them fit for fighting.”

 You glanced back beside you, noting how nervous Peter seemed to look. He was much younger than you realized. Making you slightly upset about having him been part of the fight at all. But considering he was crawling up the walls, stopping punches from super soldiers, and taking on Wanda, he had to be more than just a regular kid.

 “By the way, it is an honor to have fought against you.” His enthusiasm is creeping in on you, making you fully turn to face him as he rambled on about the fight. “It’s not often someone gets pretty close to sneaking up on me. There was this time I was stopping a robbery and there were a total of three goons, all amateur, but still pretty strong..”

 Peter continued on, going onto different tangents in his story that helped provide you with a very necessary distraction. It’s not until he’s noticed you’re completely grinning from hearing him talk about how much his new suit kept riding up his butt that he stopped.

 “I just realized I’ve been the only one that’s been talking for ten minutes. I’m so sorry.”

 You shake your head at him, leaning back in your seat. “It’s okay.” you said softly. “I liked your stories.”

 His face beamed with pride at your response. It’s been hours since you’ve last said more than one worded replies and he’s noticed it. His reaction has you feeling a bit guilty and you casually glance over to see that Tony has stopped talking to Happy to look back at you. Raising a brow in a quiet way of asking if you were okay.

 Smiling at him, you nod your head before giving Peter back your attention. 

 “So I noticed that you’re calling Tony ‘Mr.Stark’. I’m gonna go ahead and assume then that you’re not some secret nephew that I owe some birthday presents to?”

 Peter’s eyes widened and he let out a hearty laugh. “I wish! Mr. Stark managed to pluck me from Queens. He’s apparently been keeping tabs on Spider-Man. Offered me a chance to come help him.”

 “It’s a pretty big step from stopping robberies to fighting super soldiers.” You find that you can’t bear to say their names. “The fight was kind of intense..” 

 “Oh don’t worry, Ms.Stark! I’m totally okay! I heal up real fast these days.” 

 “You’re definitely different. I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone be able to stop a punch from Buc–” your voice cut off on its own. Making you turn embarrassed as you looked down at your lap to fidget with the hem of your shirt. 

 Peter was kind enough not to bring that to attention as he gave a light pat on your arm. “You wanna hear what it was like sharing a hotel with Happy?” The two of you both look over to find Happy with his familiar look of annoyance as he tapped angrily at his iPad. Sensing that he’s being watched, he glanced up with wide eyes, looking between you and Peter before he began to shake his head without even knowing the conversation.

 The reaction makes the two of you burst into a fit of giggles and while the whole thing isn’t entirely that funny, the whole thing has you laughing so much you feel the pinch of tears in your eyes. “Please tell me.” you urged, wiping the corners of your eyes a bit.

 Peter instantly dived into a story of what it was like going from Queens to the airport with Happy. Pulling you back into another enthralling story. 

 “Tony, you gotta let me go over there. The kid’s getting it all wrong.”

 “You leave them alone, Happy. It’s gonna be a while before we see that smile again.”

 “Fine. But he’s getting a cab home.”

 “I wouldn’t be so sure, Hap– Oh will you relax? Your forehead is showing that vein again.”

  Hours later and the four of you are finally back home in America. The three of you continued to pester and annoy poor Happy. He practically sped over to the apartment building in Queens. Especially once Tony joined in on the teasing. But soon enough you were saying goodbye to Peter, telling him you’d see him soon to hear more stories from his side of the city. 

 Tony had Happy plan to take you back to the hotel, where he was planning on staying while they moved Rhodey to the compound. But you insisted they take you home. 

 It’s been quite a few months since you’ve stepped foot in your townhouse in New York. You were sure that it’d be a dusted mess, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to be in a place that was your own.

 “I can stay with you,” Tony offered, keeping you from closing the car door. Happy had offered to take your bags up to the doorstep. Giving you and your brother a moment alone for the first time in hours. “I’ll even order some take out, we can talk shit about..everyone.” 

 There was a look that flickered in his eyes, making them glisten a bit before he shook it off, giving you a brilliant smile. He’s trying to cover up his own feelings but you don’t want him to hide how he feels just to help make you feel better. 

 “We can do that later on. I think I just want to be alone for a bit. At least to get back to our time zone.” You shrugged. Hoping to sound more okay than how you really felt. “We’ll go to that one place you wanted to try.” 

 “You sure, sprout? I mean, I can always just—“

 You cut Tony off with a simple hand to his shoulder. Squeezing gently to shut him up. “We’ll plan it out tomorrow. Just tonight…leave me be.” 

 He nodded slowly, looking a little disappointed before he leaned back into the seat. He’s about to close the door but you’re quick to grab before he can. A simple raise of the brow is all he used as a question. 

 “Do me a favor, Tony.”

 “Anything, kid.” 

 “Call her?”

 There’s no need to say who it is. The whole fighting and sadness has you thinking about everything. Including your own brother’s relationships. 

 “Sprout..” Tony choked out, sounding unsure about the request. But all you could think to say is to throw back his own words at him before you closed the door. 

 “One of us Starks has to be able to hold onto a relationship right?”

 And with that, you turned around and left your stunned brother to his own decisions. Hopeful that he’d do that right thing and get his girl back. Not only for his sake but yours. 

 ~ 

 It’s hours later in your little townhouse that you finally have everything unpacked and cleaned up. The dusting and cleaning being completely therapeutic to you while you found a way to adjust back into your old home. 

 Home. 

 The concept of this place being your home again sounded foreign. The more you look around the more your chest begins to ache. While this was back for you, this wasn’t your home. This wasn’t the place you’ve been sleeping for months. This didn’t have the old plumbing that sometimes would take forever to heat up, or had outdated appliances, or have the queen size bed that you’d share with—

 “No.” You said softly to yourself. The swell of tears began to fill in your eyes and you felt as if you’d been punched in the stomach. Causing you to reach out and grip against the counter top. Fingers feeling slightly numb as you release some anger onto the hold.

 For a second there’s a ringing in your ear as you’re thrown into emotions again. But even through the ringing, you can feel the chill running up your back. Your instincts kicking in quickly. Without a second thought, you jumped over the counter and reached for a knife in the holder by the sink before spinning around and facing the new presence of the room.

 “He’s taught you well, Cолнышко (little sun).”

 Natasha didn’t look the least phased as you held the tip of the knife towards her face. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she had a glint of approval. But her signature smirk was gone, and the green in her eyes were dulled. She was tired.

 “We just gonna stand like this all night or do you mind if I take a seat?”

 Pulling your arm back, you place the knife down on the counter, keeping contact with Nat as you walk over towards the chair by the window. The cool breeze that flowed in was a sign of how she got in so quietly. 

 “I’m glad you’re okay.” she started softly, taking a seat over at the couch opposite of you.  “Once that jet left I couldn’t help but worry about what you were going to face. And then things with Rhodey happened and next thing I know Tony’s upset—“

 “How can you just do that?”

 You cut her off quickly. Feeling a burning anger flicker inside your chest. Natasha raised a brow, cocking her head to the side as she tried to figure you out. Like she always did. 

 “How can I do what?”

 “Act like everything is okay.” The air in your lungs felt heavier, making your breathing slow and painful. “Like my life wasn’t just turned upside down.”

 “Scout-”

 “No!” Jumping up from your seat, you point over at Natasha. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t know. Tell me that they were the only ones who betrayed me. Tell me my own best friend who told the whole world’s secrets wouldn’t have kept THIS from me,” The sudden panic in your voice has the other girl’s eyes wide as she leaned back to look at you. Green eyes flickering all over your face as she tried to think of an answer.

 “I can’t.” she said softly. “I had pieced it together pretty fast.” 

 You turned away, feeling the pain in your chest turn worse. It causes you to have to lean against the chair. Holding onto the edge to keep you balanced. Was this how you were always going to feel now?

 “I know nothing I say can fix it. But please let me just get my piece in..”

 “Why should I? Why should I listen to anything else when all you and Steve and Bu-” You bring a hand up to your lips before shaking your head. “All you guys know is how to lie to me and hurt me. So tell me, Nat. What grand excuse do you have to tell me? Hmm?” Moving to take a step closer, you watch her get up and size up to you.

 “Because unless you’re a coward like Steve, which we both know you aren’t, then I’m not sure what real excuse you could have. As far as I see it, you allowed me to look for him, try and bring him back home. Was that when you were going to tell me? What about Tony? Do you guys really hate him so much that you worked with him for years and couldn’t face up to tell him too?”

 “No one hates Tony. But don’t act like you guys are the easiest people to tell stuff to.”

 Her words caused you to flinch, making you take a step away from her. “So now we’re not easy to talk to all of a sudden, okay.” you laughed, looking down at your hands. They shake before you and you quickly ball them up before crossing your arms. “Wasn’t quite aware of that.”

 “That’s not what I meant–”

 “I don’t care what you meant. Get out of my house.” Turning around, you move to head towards your door. “I don’t want to see any of you ever again.”

 “Please!” Natasha urged, reaching out to grab your arm. “I can’t just leave things between us like this.” It’s not till you’re fully facing her that you notice there’s tears brimming her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. I should have done better. I should have at least told you because you deserved to know.”

 Her hold on you let up when she noticed you weren’t leaving again. Allowing her to quickly wipe some fallen tears off her face. “I can’t speak for the other two. And I won’t. Because keeping this secret has been tearing me up inside and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 Reaching out, she brushed a hand out to cup at your cheek, gingerly rubbing the pad of her thumb against the apple where your own tears had begun to roll over. You wanna push her away, tell her to leave and watch her get out of your life like the other two. But you can’t. You don’t think your heart can take another heartbreak.

 Throwing your arms around her, you bury your face into her neck, letting the pain pour out as you hold onto your friend. She’s quick to hold onto you, allowing your body to sag against hers as she helped move you towards the couch. 

It’s not until a couple of minutes of you crying out to her that you’re able to calm down. Wiping your nose along the sleeve of your arm before you pull back to look at her. She’s just as red in the face as you but still slightly more composed. “I feel like my world isn’t ever going to be the same again.”

 “I know,” she agreed, pushing a piece of hair out from your eyes. “It might not ever be.” Looking back to your eyes, she gives you a sad smile before leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “But I just want you to know that I would never intentionally hurt or betray you like this..I just..I didn’t know how to tell you.”

 You don’t have a response for her. Just like with the other two, you can’t think of anything to make them or yourself feel better. All you know is that you can’t be around any of them. But Natasha doesn’t seem to need to hear that from you, instead, she got up from the seat, moving to reach for a bag that she had stowed away by the window. 

 “Ross is gonna try and hunt me down.”

 “Well he’s off to a good start if you manage to make your way back to New York.” you scoffed, curious to know what she was digging around for. 

 “Poor guy has his hands full.” She found what she was looking for before she returned back to join you on the couch. “So much so that he and his team didn’t notice when I managed to take this from their evidence locker.” She slips over a book into your hands and it's then that you realize what it is.

 The familiar cover was the exact one you had spent a good couple of days looking at. “Oh,” you whispered softly, letting your fingers brush over the spine of the journal. It had been so long since you’ve seen this and while you can’t even mention his name, the sight of Bucky’s journal brought a sudden comfort over you.

 “I’ve never been one to snoop inside someone’s journal.” She mused, tapping the cover lightly. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t have a problem if someone like you read it.” Her watch beeps and she looked down at it ruefully for a moment.

 “Times up?” you asked softly, feeling suddenly unready. 

 “Yeah, my ride out of the states is gonna leave soon.” 

 The two of you got up from the couch and you watched as she strapped the bag around her shoulders. Taking a second to adjust her jacket a bit before she finished to look back at you. The two of you stare at each other before you’re suddenly wrapping an arm around her again. Hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry,” you start, unsure why. “If..if there’s a way to reach me..and you need me–”

 “I’ll try not to but thanks. For now, maybe just try being here? Seems like you could use a break from hero work..” She pulled back from the hug first, using her fingers to tip your chin up and look over at her. “I’ll see you later,Cолнышко (little sun).” 

 Nodding your head, you step back, allowing her to make her way over to the window. Her bright hair blowing in the night wind is the last you see before she disappeared into the night and out of your life.

  You don’t read the journal. At least you try not to. After several attempts, you can’t find it in yourself to peek into what it could have inside. What if it reveals more lies to you, what if there’s secrets Bucky had been holding that were far worse. 

 It’s late one night, you’re cuddled under your blanket, ready for another sleepless night when you look at your nightstand. The book has been sitting there since Natasha left and you feel like the cover is taunting you. 

 Turning your back to it, you try and shut your eyes, reminding yourself that while you’re upset with Bucky, that reading his private journal was super gross and not very ethical. But there were a lot of unethical things that seemed to happen to you, it’s almost unfair that you’re not allowed to break a rule now and then.

 Groaning in frustration, you kicked off your sheets, reaching for the lamp on the nightstand. The room is suddenly wrapped in a warm glow and you’re picking up the journal. Flipping the cover, you let out a sight. There’s no turning back now.

 The first couple of pages remind you of the notes that he used to carry around. Lists of words that wouldn’t mean much to normal people, but to Bucky, they were reminders of people and places. Some of the lists were harder to read, especially when you realized they might have been past missions as the soldier. But the more you dived into it, the more you realized he had begun to remember names. 

 There were so many names..

 Luckily there were two sets of names you didn’t want to come across and that gave you a slight relief. But eventually the journal started to turn into entries. Small enough to be a paragraph, but enough so that it made your heart ache. They were Bucky’s words and for some reason that meant everything to you right now.

 Some entries had you crying with the dark dreams as painful reminders to him. Some had you smiling, despite the pain you felt towards him, the words of him recalling moments with you felt like a warmth you needed. 

 It wasn’t till you got to a certain date that you realized what this entry was for. It was the day he tried to leave after you stopped him from leaving the apartment as the soldier. He had been planning to leave Bucharest and you behind, but you stopped his plans in time. What you never saw was the words he had been writing that day.

 [..The worst of my nightmares has happened. Instead of just reliving what has happened inside my nightmares, The Soldat finally managed to seep his way through my subconscious and out into the real world. Out to where she is.]

 The memory of the night feels fresh in your mind. All of it was still scary and you remember the look of shock and sadness when Bucky realized that it wasn’t just a dream anymore.

 [..I can’t keep her with me anymore. Not when it’s no longer safe. She’s the only good left I have and if the Soldat hurt her..I don’t think I could live with myself…]

 You don’t want to unravel what he means with that. But knowing Bucky, there was no good answer to it either way.

 [..I don’t want to leave her. God, I don’t ever want to leave her. Even in the early mornings, when I go to the docks, or go out for food, or anything. Leaving her for just a second brings an ache to my chest. But not bigger than the one I feel when I think about what could happen to her if I don’t wake up the same. Not again.]

 The page is cut off and you’re thinking it’s probably around the time that you had caught him trying to leave. The fight was painful, but it had brought out the trust you two still had at that moment. Unfortunately, you weren’t sure you’d ever get that back. You’re about to close the book, but there’s a bookmark down the line that you turn to next.

 [..She’s smarter than she realizes. Caught me at just the right time. Either that or she’s born with ridiculous luck.]

 You think hard about it and realize this is one of his last entries. 

 [..Seventy years of being in pain and loss, and I managed to get one good thing in my life…I can’t believe some guy like me could be with a dame like this. Even now, she’s curled to my side, sleeping beautifully after letting me touch her and make her feel the way she’s supposed to. She deserves the world but she chooses me. She wants to look for me, even if I get lost again. How could I return that to her? How could I give her more when she asks for nothing in return?..I just hope that whatever happens between us, she’ll get to know just truly just how much I love her.]

 The journal fell out of your hands, falling off the side of the bed. His words keep repeating in your line and instead feeling the familiar break of the heart, something else, something stronger builds up in you. Giving your chest a break from the ache it’s been feeling this whole time.

I love her.

I love her.

I love her.

“...I love him.”

a/n: woo! another movie done! i love the idea of bucky having a journal. wish that was dived into more in the show IW is soon to come. Just gonna take a week break and start it early FEB!

[mortytheestallion]

tasting glass

Part 2   Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit 

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, angst, implied age gap, unprotected sex, daddy kink

A/N: Hello I’m back from the dead, I know I’ve been lacking on both fandoms but my hyperfixations have died. In honor of season 5 here’s a new little mini-series I’m challenging myself to this summer! This takes place in between episodes 2 and 3!

The summer heat was humid and sticky as Rick finished his latest project. The sweltering seemed to permeate the garage just the same with the door opened or closed, and with Beth and Jerry’s latest fight reaching its peak, he decided hiding away was his best bet. 

Rick and the heat did not get along well, something that translated to the rest of the family, it felt as though he was fending off Summer and Morty with a stick. Their boredom was not his problem though, he had much better things to do. The thought of slipping away had plagued his mind for the last few hours, but the fever of the summer seemed to make his mind feel like syrup. 

“What I wouldn’t fucking give for a pool right now?” Rick murmured to himself, his brow furrowing at the reminder of his own sticky misery. The sky bathed the house in a silky red with the sun slipping down under the horizon. He took another sip from his flask, turning to lean on the workbench. 

He heaved a deep sigh as his phone caught the corner of his eye, you were ignoring him, and in true Rick fashion he had taken that in stride. His eyes narrowed unconsciously as he thought about it, his empty hand tightening into a fist. He didn’t fucking need you.

 He didn’t need anybody.

Beth’s shrill voice cut through the air followed by some thuds and an “Ow!” from Jerry. That earned an eye roll from Rick and while he wouldn’t mind going in there and tearing them a new one, it was too much work. Morty was breathing down his neck about letting them be, that they were happy. He had scoffed when Morty said that, it was bullshit and he wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted another divorce in the next 6 months. 

Nonetheless, he was stuck in this stuffy house with his family’s bullshit to avoid your bullshit and he was starting to feel suffocated. Why did he give a shit if you were mad, fuck if you wanted to play that game so would he. Maybe it was the liquor he had just downed but it really didn't take much to get Rick riled up. And you knew that. 

He could feel the anger blooming in his chest, he wasn’t some fucking teenager in a petty fight with some dumb, little girlfriend. Suddenly he was hot with anger and before he knew it, a portal was in the center of the floor and he was walking through. Damned be his new fibermesh epidermis defense, and fuck his family, always asking him for shit. 

One foot through he stopped and thought of you briefly softening, he had been pretty rough on you lately. You called, he declined. You showed up, he went out the nearest portal. He had really only been around lately to take care of his own needs.

A particularly loud curse from inside the house brought him right back to his original train of thought, he was the smartest man in the universe, he didn’t need to take crap from you. You should be thanking him for his presence in your life. 

“You have some fucking nerve.” 

You shrieked as Rick pulled back the shower curtain. A cold shower was one of the better ways to fend off the heat with the air conditioner broken, especially since Rick had moaned, groaned, and wormed his way out of fixing it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed as he climbed in fully clothed, his brow in a prominent V-shape, lids half mast. It would have been comical in any other situation, his lanky body struggling to fit in your small shower, an almost bored expression on his face as the water drenched his clothes. 

“Me?” Rick scoffed, and narrowed his eyes at you. He began to lose his composure a bit, having your wet naked body in front of him. 

“Yes, you. You can’t just barge in here unannounced anymore Rick. I’m not some toy you can pick up when you’re bored and throw it away when you’re not.”

He feigned a hurt look, shrugged the now soaked coat from his shoulders. “I have enough toys, sweetheart, if you were one you’d know.”

That earned a huff from you, it had been a long day and the last thing you needed was Rick’s bullshit. Turning back to face the water, you rinsed the rest of the soap off of you, jumping slightly as his arms snaked their way around your waist. 

“C’mon,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, you could feel the hard press of cold denim against your ass as he ground into you, “you know you can’t refuse my huge dynamite penis.” 

That earned a snort from you, the hard shell of anger cracking slightly. “You’re not off that easy, Rick. You’ve been a huge asshole lately, even more than usual.” 

His hands came up to massage your breasts, the feeling amplified by the cold water. You let out a low moan as he latched his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck while one hand tweaked your nipple, and the other snuck its way down to stroke your fluttering core. 

“S-shit baby you can’t still —is this all for me?” You could feel his wolfish grin against the back of your neck, and in return you arched your back more to grind against his erection. His long fingers trace through your folds as he removes his other hand to undo his belt, you feel the tight heat in your lower belly as you gush around his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Rick murmurs, stopping his motions momentarily to land a hard smack on your ass. You bite back a whine, wanting to maintain some semblance of composure, despite him being knuckle-deep in you. His fingers suddenly press against something deep and spongy within you, your knees buckle as you lurch forward, the unexpected waves of pleasure shivers down your body. Rick lets out another curse, his arm darting out to grip your waist, surely you would’ve fallen face-first into the wall had he not been holding you up.

He inhales sharply as you clench around his fingers, whispering good girl into your neck as you ride it out. He eases out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs, the feeling coupled with the uncomfortable chill of the water makes you shudder. 

“You’re a dirty little slut,” you tense again as he aligns himself to your entrance, still a little sensitive from your release, “beg me baby, I-I want to hear you.”

You mewl as he pushes into you, the stretch rides the line of pleasure and pain, Rick barely gives you enough time to get used to it before he bucks his hips and grips your jaw as a warning, “Beg.”

“Please, Rick, I want — I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes out whiny making you wince a bit, but it seems to please Rick as he sets a deep pace, biting into your neck hard enough it's sure to leave a mark.

You can’t help but arch your back even further, this seems to please him as he releases his bite on your neck, “Someone’s eager, y-you can’t seem to get enough of my dick can you?” You moan in response, snaking a hand down to rub the tender bundle of nerves. 

You clench at the contact, leading Rick to fasten his pace, his hand moving to tighten around your neck. 

“You’re my — you’re daddy’s good girl aren’t you? Can’t get enough of m-my monster cock, you wanna come don’t you? Don’t fucking dare, not until I say so.”

All you can manage is incoherent moans with the occasional Rick! thrown in, you’re too cockdumb to be embarrassed or angry anymore. Rick has his way of getting out of trouble, especially with you. 

His brutal pace coupled with your own fingers becomes too much for you as you near your second orgasm, Rick seemed to egg you on as his own fingers replaced yours, you could feel your stomach tightening as your release began to stir in the peak of your stomach. 

“Come on my dick, baby, let the neighbors hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure washes over you in waves, your pussy clenching hard around his dick, he thrusts with wild abandon chasing his own release. You can feel him rut against your sensitive walls, riding your post-orgasmic haze. He spills inside you a few moments later letting out a string of expletives in true Rick fashion. You feel yourself stir again slightly as you feel him fill you up, but Rick extracts himself from you gracelessly. 

Coming back to your senses you rinse the mixture of juices off your legs, much to Rick’s distaste, and turn off the water. You shiver from being drenched for so long, side-eyeing Rick as he avoids your gaze. 

“You’re dripping on my floor,” you murmur, he stands there uncomfortably, it's not lost on you that his portal gun has returned to his hand.

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

Rick can feel the anger simmer low in his belly at your dig, “What do you mean typical?”

“Well let’s see Rick, you show up angry and unannounced, seduce me in my show—” “I didn’t seduce you! And —and frankly, I resent the accusation!” “And now you’re leaving with no explanation. This isn’t sustainable long term, Rick.”

“And what makes you think I want to be here long term,” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, a hurt look flashes across your face before it's replaced with anger. 

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.” 

He reaches out for you and you jerk backwards, “Your family may have taken you back, but I’m not this time Rick.” 

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “Just go, it’s what you’re best at.”

Rage blinds him as he shoots a portal to the floor, “Don’t — I’m not coming back this time.”

“I know you're not.” And with that he’s gone.

[zuko-always-lies]

How does Iroh talk about Ozai vs How does Iroh talk about Azula

Iroh only discusses his brother and his niece a few times in the series, yet I believe we can detect patterns which reveal how he feels about them. Much more under the cut.

How Iroh talks about Ozai:

“Avatar Roku”:

Zuko: I have no choice, Uncle. Iroh (angrily): Have you completely forgotten that the Fire Lord banished you?!?!? (With a look of anguish and worry) What if you're caught? Zuko (turning around from the spy glass): I'm chasing the Avatar. My father will understand why I'm returning home. Iroh: You give him too much credit. My brother is not the understanding type.

“The Storm”:

Iroh: After Zuko's outburst in the meeting, the Fire Lord became very angry with him. He said that Prince Zuko's challenge of the general was an act of complete disrespect, and there was only one way to resolve this... Lieutenant Jee (horrified): Agni kai. A fire duel. Iroh: That's right. Zuko looked upon the old general he had insulted and declared that he was not afraid. But Zuko misunderstood. When he turned to face his opponent, he was surprised to see it was not the General. Zuko had spoken out against a general's plan, but by doing so in the Fire Lord's war room, it was the Fire Lord whom he had disrespected. Zuko would have to duel his own father.

later:

Iroh: I looked away. (The spectators are illuminated by flame, Zuko's scream of anguish is heard in the background, and the camera zooms to a close up of Iroh. The flashback ends, but Iroh's face in the present is in the same pose as it was when Zuko was scarred. It is clearly an unpleasant memory.) Lieutenant Jee (abashed): I always thought that Prince Zuko was in a training accident... Iroh: It was no accident. After the duel, the Fire Lord said that by refusing to fight, Zuko had shown shameful weakness. As punishment he was banished and sent to capture the Avatar. Only then could he return with his honor. Lieutenant Jee: So that's why he's so obsessed. Capturing the Avatar is the only chance he has of things returning to normal. Iroh: Things will never return to normal. But the important thing is, the Avatar gives Zuko hope.

It’s interesting to note that, given the story Iroh is telling here, his tone and wording is shockingly non-judgmental, mainly expressing sadness over what happened.

“The Avatar State”:

Zuko: (dejectedly) Three years ago today I was banished. I lost it all. (He looks up suddenly.) I want it back. I want the Avatar, I want my honor, I want my throne. I want my father not to think I'm worthless. Iroh: (with exaggerated optimism) I'm sure he doesn't! Why would he banish you if he didn't care? (Zuko gets up and walks away. Cut to Iroh's surprised face with the attendants in the background.) Iroh: (negatively to himself) Erg... that came out wrong, didn't it?

Later:

Zuko: (o.c., happily) We're going home. After three long years. It's unbelievable. (Zuko walks behind a thoughtful Iroh, carrying some folded clothing. He walks off to the right of the screen.) Iroh: (skeptically) It is unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything. (Cut to a close-up of Zuko. At first he sounds surprised, and then forceful.) Zuko: Did you listen to Azula? Father's realized how important family is to him. He cares about me. Iroh: I care about you. And if Ozai wants you back... well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine. Zuko: (defensively, turning his back to Iroh) You don't know how my father feels about me. (He stiffens) You don't know anything. (Cut to the scarred portion of Zuko's face in the foreground with Iroh talking over his shoulder.) Iroh: (gently) Zuko, I only meant that in our family things are not always what they seem.”

Sozin’s Comet Part II:

Zuko: [Voice-over.] Uncle, you're the only person other than the Avatar who can [Side-view of Iroh with Zuko sat next to him. Toph sits to Zuko's right and Katara has her back to the camera opposite Toph.] possibly defeat the Father Lord. Toph: You mean the Fire Lord. Zuko: [Angrily.] That's what I just said! Iroh: Hmmm ... Zuko: We need you to come with us! Iroh: [Close-up.] No, Zuko, it won't turn out well. Zuko: [Aerial view of the group.] You can beat him! [Turns to the others.] And we'll be there to help. Iroh: Even if I did defeat Ozai, [Close-up.] and I don't know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. [Aerial view of the group.] History would see it as just more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is for the Avatar to defeat the Fire Lord.

It’s hard for me to fully capture Iroh’s words, since his tone of voice tends to be a big part in this, but he seems remarkably non-judgmental when discussing his brother. His words seemed to colored by a great deal of sadness and regret.

How Iroh talks about Azula: 

Bitter Work:

Zuko: So uncle, I've been thinking. It's only a matter of time before I run into Azula again. I'm going to need to know more advanced firebending if I want to stand a chance against her. I know what you're going to say: she's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her. Iroh: No, she's crazy and she needs to go down. (Zuko nods. Iroh grunts as he stands up.) It's time to resume your training.

This goes without much comment, other than to note that Azula is “crazy” for doing things that Iroh and/or Zuko did. The only interesting thing to note is that Zuko didn’t just passively “run into Azula” the previous episode; he actively sought her out to fight her, as he does, to one degree or another, in many episodes this series. I’m not sure if Iroh totally understands that, but, if he does, it says interesting and not flattering things about him.

Later:

Iroh: Lightning is a pure expression of firebending, without aggression. It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is. Some call lightning the cold-blooded fire. (Iroh takes the tea kettle off the fire and pours it into another pot. He then begins to pour two cups.) It is precise and deadly, like Azula. To perform the technique requires peace of mind.

This is actually a pretty neutral comment. Interestingly, Iroh seems to almost be encouraging Zuko to at least partially adopt Azula’s mindset, or at least Azula’s mindset as Iroh understands it. Still, the way he talks about her seems almost dehumanizing.

Later: 

Iroh: I have another idea. I will teach you a firebending move that even Azula doesn't know, because I made it up myself!

Iroh actually (likely inadvertently) encourages Zuko to stake his self-worth on how his firebending compares to Azula’s firebending prowess!

“The Crossroads of Destiny”:

Azula: I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle, but Zuko, Prince Zuko...you're a lot of things, but you're not a traitor, are you? Zuko: Release him immediately! Azula:It's not too late for you Zuko. You can still redeem yourself. Iroh:The kind of redemption she offers is not for you. Azula: Why don't you let him decide, Uncle? I need you Zuko. I've plotted every move of this day. This glorious day in Fire Nation history. And the only way we win is together. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have your father's love. You will have everything you want. Iroh: Zuko, I am begging you, look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want.

No real comment here, other than to note that Iroh doesn't bother addressing Azula directly in this scene.

“Sozin’s Comet, Part II”:

Iroh: Yes. [Close-up from over Zuko's shoulder.] Zuko, you must return to the Fire Nation, so that when the Fire Lord falls, you can assume the throne and restore peace and order. [Extreme close-up of Zuko.] But Azula will be there, waiting for you. Zuko: I can handle Azula. Iroh: Not alone! [Frontal view of Iroh from the side of Zuko.] You'll need help. Zuko: [Extreme close-up.] You're right. Katara, [Frontal view of Katara over Zuko's shoulder.] how would you like to help me put Azula in her place? Katara: It would be my pleasure.

Let’s just say the contrast with what Iroh moments earlier said about Ozai is quite palpable.

Overall, Iroh tends to be nonjudgmental, regretful, and sorrowful when he talks about Ozai, even after what Ozai did to Zuko. You get a sense that he still deeply loves his brother and wishes things had turned out differently.

By contrast, Iroh tends to be much more hostile when he talks about Azula, and even when he’s not, he seems to discuss her as an obstacle to overcome rather than a person. There is no hint of past affection in the way he discusses her.

[the-modernmary]

chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

 Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

  “BAU,” you supplied.

  “—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

  You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

  The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

  Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

  “So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

  “I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

  Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

  Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

  “— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

  Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

  Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

  The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

  Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

  You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

  Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

  The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

  The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

  When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

  “Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

  You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

  His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

  As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

  You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you. 

  Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

  A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

  “Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

  You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

  The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

  It was exhilarating.

  “Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

  Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

  You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

  The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

  “It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

  His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

  “Yes. Or no.”

  Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

  “Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

  “Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

  Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

  He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

  “Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

  “Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

  “And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

  Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

  You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

  “As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

  “Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

  “All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

  Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

  Two moves to checkmate.

  “Sustained,” said the judge.

  “Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

  Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

  “I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

  “What did you major in for your undergrad?”

  Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

  Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

  It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

  “None,” Aaron said finally.

  “None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

  Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

  You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

  You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

  “A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

  Checkmate.

  “Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

  He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

  You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

  The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

  “Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

  Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

  “The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

  You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

  Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning. 

  “In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

  That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

  Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

  “I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

  You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

  “He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

  Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

  “That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

  He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

  Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

  That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

  It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

  The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

  “Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

  You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

  The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

  If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

  Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

  “Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

  “Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

  Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

  With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

  A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

  You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

  Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

  “Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

  “I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

  Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

  Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

  As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

  “Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

  “Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

  The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

  Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

  You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

  “What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

  Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

  “You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

  “Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

  You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

  Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

  Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

  Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip. 

  “I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

  You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

  His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

  “Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss. 

  His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

  Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs. 

  Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

  He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

  “What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

  Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

  Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone. 

  “Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

  That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

  “I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

  “More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

  Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. 

  You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

  You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

  That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

  You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

  His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

  “Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

  Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

   A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

  In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

  He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

  “By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

  Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

  Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

  He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

  Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

  Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

  “Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

  He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

  In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

  “I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

  “Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

  Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

  “I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

  You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was. 

  “Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

  Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

  “Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

  Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

  When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

  You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it. 

  The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

  “Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

  “I know.”

  “We shouldn’t have done it.”

  “I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

  You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

  Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

  The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

  Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

  “Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

  You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

  “Forgetting something?”

  You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

  “These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

  You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

  Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

  “Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

  His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

  “I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

  “Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

  Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

  You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

  He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

[multiplefandomfics]

Everything happens for a reason

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Former Steve x reader)

Warnings: cheating, angst, pregnancy, semi-public sex, Steve’s an ass in this one,

Words: 5213

A/N: Well this escalated quickly! When you have too much time at work stuff like this happens :D!

I have no idea how they do a c-section or any medical terms of that field other than the stuff I’ve seen on Grey’s Anatomy so forgive me when the birth is wrongly described.

“Babe? You home?” you called out to your fiance excited to tell him the news. No response, so you ventured further into the dark hallway.

You could see light coming from under the bedroom door. Thinking nothing of it because it was already relatively late, you walked to the room and opened the door.

You had not expected the sight before you though. You’re husband to be in the throes of passion with not one but two women.

Shocked, you slammed the door shut again which caused the threesome to startle.

“Honey? Why are you home already? I thought you were gonna go for a drink with your friends.” he called out to you while ripping the door open again…..

“That’s your excuse to cheat on me? That I was not going to see it? WHAT THE FUCK STEVE! We wanted to get married!” you screamed at him and then threw the engagement ring towards his head.

You stormed past him into the bedroom, grabbed some clothes and necessities from your closet and stuffed them into a suitcase. He tried to reason with you, that he wanted to feel free one last time and could pass up the opportunity of a threesome. Like that was actually an excuse.

Everything he said was ignored and so 5 minutes later you sat in your car and that was when the dam broke. You wanted to cry and yell at the same time. How could you have been so stupid as to think someone as honorable and good looking as Steve Rogers was not gonna follow the temptation of so many willing women at some point? You wiped your tears away and contemplated where you could be going for the night.

After thinking for a while you had figured out that most of your friends were also Steve’s you didn’t know if they were going to take his side or yours.

Natasha was not the right idea, she would probably break into his house and kill him in his sleep if she found out he cheated on you like that. And maybe you were in the right mindset to let her do it right now. Wanda and Vision were out of town and Tony would only tell you “I told you so”. That left only one other person in the world you liked enough to see right now. Bucky Barnes. So without further notice you drove to his apartment complex and rang his doorbell at 1am with a packed suitcase in your hand.

“Yes.” you heard a groggy voice through the speakers at the entrance.

“Ehm, hi Bucky. It’s Y/N. Something happened, can I come up?” you were already close to tears again. He must have noticed so he was immediately wide awake and buzzed the door open.

You took the elevator up to the 4th floor and he was already standing in the doorway to his flat only in boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey, doll. What happened? You look worse for wear.” he looked concerned and let you inside.

“I feel awful for disturbing you in the middle of the night. But I didn’t know where else to go.” you fell into his embrace after he had opened his arms.

“It’s okay darling. Now tell me what happened please.” he inquired.

“Of course. Where do I start?” you frantically searched for words.

“Best if you start at the beginning.” he smiled encouragingly.

“Yes, sure. So tonight I wanted to go for a drink with a few girls from work but didn’t feel alright after work so I rainchecked last minute and went home. But when I stepped into our bedroom, oh Bucky it was terrible, Steve wasn’t alone. There were two naked girls in bed with him.” you had fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Impossible. Steve is not a cheater. You sure you saw that right?” The doubt in his voice made you angry.

“I know what I saw Buck!” you got defensive.

“Okay, I believe you. It’s just that I never saw Steve disrespecting someone like that. I’m so sorry for you doll.” he looked genuinely affected by the whole situation and he could understand how Steve could hurt you like this.

“But that’s not the worst part yet… The reason I didn’t feel great and didn’t go out with my friends is… I’m pregnant Bucky and Steve doesn’t know.” you looked downwards.

“Fuck! That is getting more and more complicated. But congratulations doll. You will be a great mom.” he hugged you close. “How about I’ll make you a cup of tea and then you try to sleep a bit.” he suggested.

“Alright. Thank you Bucky. You are my best friend.” he smiled sadly at that statement. He wished you were more than just friends. Maybe now he would have a chance somehow.

Before he could get up though his phone rang.

“It’s him Y/N. You want me to ignore him?”

“No, then he knows I’m here for sure. Tell him you haven’t seen me.”

“Okay, will do.”

“Steve? Do you know how late it is?” Bucky asked with his best impression of a just out of bed voice.

“I’m sorry pal but I need to find Y/N. I did something stupid and she left. Do you know where she is?” you could hear Steve through Bucky’s much too loud phone.

“I’m sorry Steve. I haven’t heard from her. You just woke me up.” he lied.

“Damn! I need to make this up to her. I’m so sorry. If she comes to you, could you tell her I need to speak with her, please? I love her too much to lose her.” you swallowed more tears threatening to escape.

“Sure, buddy. You wanna tell me what happened?” Bucky feigned cluelessness.

“Maybe later Buck. I have to call the rest of our friends.”

“Alright, but don’t do anything stupid.” Bucky said and Steve hung up.

“You heard him, didn’t you?” he asked you.

“Hmm.” you confirmed.

After you had drank your tea he left you the bed and slept on the couch. When you snuggled into the covers they smelled so delicously like Bucky. A mix of soap, coffee and something uniquely Bucky. For one split moment you had thought about asking him to sleep next to you but that would have probably sent mixed signals and you didn’t know what you wanted at the moment.

You woke up feeling cold. Shivering slightly you opened your eyes and noticed that the blanket had fallen off your body onto the floor. Sitting up you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and the realization of what had happened struck you a moment later.

“Chin up! You are a queen! Don’t let that idiot make you cry again. He’s not worth it!” you told yourself and got up to get some food.

“Good morning, Bucky.” you greeted him while he was standing at the stove making scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Good morning to you too. How did you sleep? And do you want some breakfast?” he asked cheerily.

“I slept like a baby and hell yes I’m so hungry.” confirming his suspicions.

Bucky and you ate together in comfortable silence. Until he spoke up: “So Y/N you know you can stay here however long you like and I don’t mind kicking Stevies ass for what he’s done to you but you should at least tell him that you are with me. I can’t lie to him forever.” he really had a point.

“I know. Thanks again for taking in a stray in the middle of the night. And I know I will have to talk to him eventually. He hurt me so bad but I’m more afraid I will give in again when I see his puppy dog eyes although I can’t trust him anymore.” you looked so lost. Bucky wanted to wrap you up in a blanket and never let you go again.

That week you called in sick. You couldn’t stand the people at work.

And when you came back on monday, guess who was standing outside our office building with a exagerrated flower buquet.

“I’m sorry babe. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You are the best thing that has happened to me. Please don’t leave me.” he begged. You had to admit seeing Captain America beg was a sight for sore eyes.

“Hello Steve. You are correct you shouldn’t have cheated on me and I am deeply disappointed in you. Thank you for apologizing but I won’t come back to you. You have broken my trust and I can’t just give it back to you. I will be over in the next few weeks to get the rest of my stuff out of your apartment and leave my keys. Now I have to go work. Bye Steve. Oh, by the way, you will have to call all our friends and family that the wedding is off. I’m not doing that.” and with those words you turned away from him and clapped yourself menatlly on the shoulder at how confident and sovereign you had handelt that situation.

If you had thought the deal was over there you had definitely celebrated to early.

Of course Steve found out you had been staying with Bucky all along and was mad as hell.

He suddeny stood inside the apartment, however he got in there, and started throwing insults at Bucky and especially you.

“Here you are you little slut! Have already replaced me, hm. How long has this been going on? You preach something of trust and here you are fucking my best friend behind my back! I should have known.” he raged.

“Calm down you idiot. There is nothing going on between Buck and me. He has just been a friend when I was hurt needed one.” you yelled back enraged at the accusations.

“Who do you wanna tell that, Y/N. Do you think I haven’t seen the way you two look at each other?” he was still so angry. You had nevern seen him this full of rage.

“So what it is none of your business anymore anyways.” you knew you couldn’t bring him to believe you anyway. He needed to find a different cause of why you wouldn’t come back to him than the simple reason that he had cheated. He wanted to blame you, not himself.

“Could you please leave now? I don’t feel so good.” you suddenly felt your lunch coming back up to greet you and ran to the bathroom.

The men heard you puking. One knowing the reason the other not.

“What’s going on with her? She sick?” Steve asked Bucky.

That was your clue to burst through the bathroom door.

“I’m pregnat you ass! You cheated on your pregnant fiance!” you yelled and stormed into Bucky’S bedroom, jamming the door shut behind you.

Steve looked aghast at Bucky “did you know?”

“She told me the night she came to me. She had wanted to tell you then. That’s why she didn’t go out with her collegues.”

“Fuck! I destroyed everything, haven’t I?” he asked Bucky in defeat.

“Give her time. She probably won’t want to marry you, maybe not even be your girlfriend again but maybe she will at least let you see your kid.” Bucky stated matter of factly.

“But I wan’t more Bucky. I want her.” he whined.

“Well, you had everything, pal. But you destroyed it. I better go talk to her. You should really leave her alone for a while.” he clapped Steve on the shoulder, maybe a bit harder than necessary and went after you.

“Y/N? He’s gone.” Bucky carefully stuck his head into the room. You were lying on the bed, on your back staring at the ceiling.

“Good.” you muttered. “I couldn’t stand him anymore. I’m afraid Bucky.” you confessed. “I can’t raise a baby on my own and I don’t know if I want Steve involved.”

“I can understand your worry but I don’t see any reason. You are so caring and selfless you will be a great mom. And if you let me I can help you. Kids seem to like me apparently.” he encouraged you and smiled.

“Thank you, Buck. I definitely will need your help. I am going to be a single mom and that’s completely okay.” you smiled at him.

“That’s what I wanna hear. Now, you hungry after everything just came out?”

“Yes. I’d like Pizza please.”

“Alright, princess I will order some.” he stroked your cheek and got up to get the delivery running.

“So he actually cheated on you? I would have never expected that from Steve. He always seems like a gentleman. Unbelievable.” Wanda exclaimed.

“Yeah. Absolutely insane. But congrats on the pregnancy though. You will be a rockin’ mama.” Nat hugged you. “And we will help you with whatever you need.”

“Thanks, girls. You are amazing. You know I want you to be godmothers, right?” you asked.

“Hell yes. We’re in.” Nat squealed and you never heard her squeal.

Weeks ticked by and you really searched for an affordable apartment somewhere close to your workplace. That was harder than you anticipated though.

After 3 months of moving in with Bucky you had still no place of your own and you constantly thought you were overstaying your welcome.

“How are you two doing today?” Bucky asked you as he came home.

“We are fine. Had a lot to eat and listened to some music. By the way my OB was able to find out what we are having. You wanna know?” over the past months Bucky had become more a father to the baby than Steve had been. Steve rarely called or wanted to now anything about you or his baby. Bucky seemed more than content to take up the role of its father.

“Hell yes I wanna know. Tell me!” he ordered exited.

“Alright, drumroll…. It’s a…. girl.” you announced.

“Oh, wow. Great. A mini you not a mini Steve.” he laughed and you had to laugh too.

“Buck?” you asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“I want you to be in this girls life. As more than just her mommys friend. More as a rolemodel. A…” you stopped to think about your next words carfully. “More like a dad.” and out it was. Now you only had to wait for his reaction.

“You want me to be her father? Hmm. On the one hand I would love to. I feel so close to her already but on the other hand I don’t want to affront Steve. Even after everything he is my friend. Can we talk about what there is between us first? Maybe if we have that settled all will slip in place.” he suggested.

“Maybe you are right. What is there between us in your opinion?”

“Look Y/N, I have always felt a connection between us. Although I would have never acted on it because you were Steve’s girl, it hurt everytime I saw you with him. And when you got engaged I seriously considered moving abroad so I wouldn’t have to see you building a life with him. If I could imagine myself as the man by your and your daughters side? Of course. There is nowhere I’d rather be. And we are practically living together already anyway.” his confession only superficially shocked you. You knew there had always been feelings from your side too. That’s why it had been so easy to confide in him. He took your silence as hesitation and became insecure “I mean if you don’t feel that way I will accept that. I swear I can be just a frien….” he wasn’t able to say more because you had already stopped his rambling with a bruising kiss.

“So you do feel it!” he observed.

“Of course I do you dummy. You have always been there for me. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it was actually you who I should be with.” you apologized.

“The most important thing is that we have that figured out now.” he kissed you again and you melted into it.

“Yes, we do.” you smiled.

Another few months flew by and you had started to stay at home because you were constantly feeling dizzy or nauteous when you moved.

“Bucky come here. Now!” you yelled for your boyfriend one snowy december morning. Alarmed he stormed into the livingroon where you were parked in front of a movie with a cup of hot chocolate and a really big blanket over one of Bucky’s hoodies.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” panicked he jumped onto the couch next to you. “No nothing is wrong. Here- Give me your hand.” he gave you his right hand and you pressed it to the place on your belly were you had just felt her kick. When she did it again he almost jumped out of his skin. “Woah, what was that? Was that a kick?” he asked astonished.

“Of course Buck. What else was it supposed to be?” you laughed.

“She is strong. Damn so cool.”

“And she keeps kicking even more when she hears your voice. Maybe she likes it if you sang to her.” you smiled expectantly.

“Oh, no. No one wants to hear me sing. I have a terrible voice.” he refused.

“Steve told me differently. He said you were in church choir together as boys.” your smirked at him.

“He told you that.” he sighed.

“Oh, yes he did. So come on. Sing something for our daughter.”

“Our daughter?” he asked, you realized what you had said and blushed.

“I like the sound of that.” he grinned from ear to ear and that was the moment you were 100% sure that he was it for you.

“I love you so much.” he whispered and kissed first your protruding belly and then your mouth.

You were speechless. “I love you too Bucky.” you replied.

Your daughter grew everyday. Everytime you went to an ultrasound at your OB Bucky was by your side and although the doctor knew he wasn’t the babys biological dad she said that he was doing so much better than most fathers to be. He took so much pride in your baby girl that you almost burst with love for him.

After 9 months of carrying her it was finally time to let go. When the contractions started Bucky rushed you to a hospital and although he didn’t want to he called Steve. And Nat and Wanda of course.

The doctor and midwife did their exam of you and the baby quickly before figuring out that something was wrong.

“She is lying sideways. We can’t deliver her naturally. We need to get her by c-section or you will both die.” the OB made clear. You knew things like that could happen. You had mentally prepared for anything but now that it actually came to that you were more than afraid.

“Wo should stay with you? Only one person can.” the doctor informed you.

Steve, who had just entered the room and had heard everything of course assumed immediately that he was gonna be invited into the OR with you.

“I want Bucky to stay with me.” you whined. Steve got pretty angry and almost ripped the door off its hinges when he left. “Bucky I’m afraid.” you whispered to him. Uncaring of Steves abrupt departure.

“I will stay with you, doll. Through everything. You two will get through this.” he encouraged you.

“Thanks Buck. Let’s get this baby into the world.” you said.

“Good attitude.” the doctor approved.

They rushed you into the OR. Bucky never leaving you and holding your hand the whole time. During the procedure itself you were awake but you got a spinal anesthesia to numb everthing from your belly downwards.

“I will keep a pretty ugly scar Buck. Don’t you mind that?” you asked him a little drunk on meds.

“No sweetheart. I love you so much I don’t care about scars. You don’t care about mine either, do you? Scars are just proof of what you have gone through and survived. That’s what you always used to say. Isn’t it?” he quoted you.

“Yes maybe.”

“Plus it will always remind of our beautiful daughter. That’ll be worth it, don’t you think?” he asked.

“Yes, sure. I love you Buck.”

“I love you too and you are doing so great. Isn’t she doc?” he asked the OB.

“Oh, she’s doing great. Everything is perfect.” she answered but by the nervous facial expression she had on her face and the rushing nurses surrounding her Bucky knew that something was wrong.

Suddenly a baby cried. Relief flooded through Bucky. “Look there she is.” he pointed to your right and you rolled your head over and smiled. Then you passed out.

“Y/N? Y/N!!!” Bucky yelled. “What happened?” he asked the doc full of panic.

“She lost a lot of blood but we are giving her donations now. Go see your daughter and we will do everything we can to save her.” she explained to him. But Bucky would not be Bucky if he left your side.

They sewed you up and 3 hours later you awoke in a brightly lit room. Beeping machines by your head. You looked around, complketely confused until you saw the cutes thing you had ever laid eyes on. Your angel of a boyfriend was sitting next to your bed in an armchair, holding your baby daughter to his chest and singing softly to her.

You started weeping immediately. Still high on drugs and hormones.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked worried.

“No, I am just so happy. You two really are a sight for sore eyes. I can’t contain the love in my heart.” you kept crying happy tears.

“Would you give me our baby?” you asked politely.

“Oh, of course honey.” he got up and placed the blanket wrapped burrito into your arms. When you saw her crystal blue eyes and slightly dirty blonde hair you had to hold back new tears.

“What should we call her?” Bucky asked you.

“I always loved Autumn as a girls name or maybe Freya. What do you like better?”

“I love them both. Double name? Or keep one for the next baby?” he suggested.

“You are already thinking about a second child?” you laughed. “Give me a bit of time to recover and then I would love to have another one with you.”

“Sure so Autumn or Freya?” he asked again.

“Let’s go with Freya. It’s such a unique name. And strong as hell. I think it suits her.” you chose.

“Great. I love it. And I love both of you.”

“Has anyone been in here yet?” you asked him.

“Not yet. I wanted you to see your daughter first before the others came barging in. Steve nearly broke down the door when I refused him to come inside. I handled him and security told him if he didn’t calm down he needed to leave and he wouldn’t be allowed back inside.” he broke down the events of the past few hours for you.

“That sounds so not like the Steve I know but seems like that is who he became. I think if you hand me a glass of water for my parched throat first you can let the others inside.” you instructed him.

After downing the entire bottle of liquid the whole party came trampling into the room. Steve pushed the rest rudely out of the way. But instead of asking how you were doing after losing so much blood he just grabbed your daughter out of your hands to look at her. It didn’t take 3 seconds before the infant was crying like crazy. Steve startled and immediately handed her back to you. “Why is she always crying? She’s definitely yours.” he commented. Bucky gotreally angry at that comment while you tried to calm your baby.

“I think you should go, pal. You are irritating her with your attitude.” Bucky suggested nicely.

“Who do you think you are? You are not her father. I am.” he turned beet red.

You finally had enough. Handing Freya over to Nat who took a step back, you sat up a little and faced Steve. “In the past 9 months Bucky has been more a father to her than you could ever be. He was there when I hung puking over the toilet bowl. He brought me the strangest snacks without asking twice about it. He always had the nicest words to say to me no matter how depressed I felt. And where the fucking hell were you that whole time?” you asked him angrily.

That made him stop still. “You left me!” he tried to defend himself weakly.

“GET OUT!” you yelled at him.

He obeyed because he knew he couldn’t say anything to make the situation better.

“Wow, that was intense.” Wanda commented.

“He needed to hear that.” you said.

“Yes, he did. And now to you and your daughter. She is adorable. What’s her name?” Nat changed the topic.

“Thank you Nat. Her name is Freya. I have always loved that name.” you answered.

“That’s a beautiful, strong name. Fitting!” Wanda commented.

“So when will you be able to get out of here?” Nat asked, still holding your baby.

“I don’t know. Haven’t spoken to a doctor yet.”

As if on cue the door opened and your OB entered.

She told you that everything was healing and that you needed to stay for another day and then you and your baby could go home.

Three weeks later you had already accustomed Freya to her crib. You went on walks everyday. Bucky always by your side. Protecting you both like a wolf protects his pack.

Six months ticked by like nothing. Suddenly Freya was already playing with her mobile which was hanging over her bed. She was very attentive. Crawling all over the apartment fast enough that you almost couldn’t catch up.

It was fulfilling to be a mom but also tiring. You needed a day off so as the nice godmothers that your friends were they took her from you for 24 hours. At first you slept in. You would have happily stayed in bed all day but Bucky had other plans.

So you took a shower and put on a nice dress but you forwent the high heels cause you still had swollen feet sometimes and couldn’t walk in them anyways.

“Where are we going Buck?” you smiled.

“You will see, doll.” was his cryptic answer.

He drove out of town until you reached the hills. Parking the car somewhere in the middle of nowhere you got out of the car and he pulled a picnic basket out of the trunk.

“A picnic? That’s so sweet.” you swooned.

“I thought that would be nice.” He seemed somehow really nervous.

When you had found a clearing he put everything down and you two sat and ate. Sandwiches, fruit, cheese, crackers, chocolate covered strawberries. Everything was so delicious. “Thank you for this Bucky. It’s the best date I have ever had.” you complimented.

“It is wonderful. And I would like to ask you something.” he turned so he was kneeling in front of you and pulled a box out of his jacket pocket. You clapped your hand in front of your mouth and tears sprang to your eyes.

“Y/N I have loved you for so long. We have a great life together, a wonderful daughter. I would like this to hold forever. Will you marry me?” he asked.

You threw yourself into his arms and he crumbled underneath you “YES! Of course I will marry you Bucky. I love you so much!” you confirmed.

He put the ring onto your finger and you kissed deeply. The kiss turned heated quickly. You, still lying on top of him, wriggled your hips. He turned you on so much you wanted him right that moment.

“Woa, hold on doll. You sure you want to do this here?” he mumbled against your lips.

“Don’t wanna wait any more. Waited too long.” you mumbled back.

His hands immediately went to the zipper on your back and pulled it down. You sat up so you could wriggle your arms free and pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your panties and bra. “So beautiful.” he groaned and buried his face in your boobs, nipping and sucking hickies only he would be able to see later.

All the while you frantically ripped at his clothes, pushing the jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. Then you roamed your hands over his muscular chest intensely. Grinding down on his growing erection got you so wet. You hadn’t gotten any action in over a year and you knew he hadn’t either so this was likely going to be over way too soon. You had to savor any moment that it would last.

With his help you got him out of his jeans and you saw that he was not wearing any underwear. “Naughty boy. No underwear?” you commented, smirking.

“More comfy that way. Why don’t you make it even more comfortable and sit on my dick, doll?”

“With pleasure.” you moaned and sank down on his massive cock. “Fuck!” you groaned at the slight discomfort. You felt like an inexperienced virgin again. “Shit. Don’t stop.” he moaned lustfully.

You rocked your hips sensually and he met you with every thrust.

He hit all the amazing spots deep inside you and you felt your high approaching way too fast. “‘m so close, baby.” you moaned with your eyes closed. Just lost in the pleasure of every stroke inside you.

“Me too. Wanna come together. Open your eyes, darling.” he panted.

So you did as he had asked and when your eyes met his baby blues you lost it and came all over him. That in turn triggered his orgasm and he spilled inside you.

Breathing heavily you slid off of him and cuddled into his side while he pulled a blanket over you.

“That was so great.” he said.

“Hmm, and you know what? I’m still not on birth control again. Maybe… we’ll soon have a mini you running around.” you smirked.

“I would like that very much. Life is always better with a sibling.” he kissed your head.

Well and what can I say- 9 months later you gave birth to a healthy, dark haired baby boy which you named Ben. Your family became the most important thing in the world. You didn’t even want to think about a scenario where you hadn’t found out that Steve cheated on you. You were the happiest when you were with Bucky. That’s where you belonged.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Ron Weasley

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Technically, you and Ron didn’t meet until fourth year but the redheaded boy had been in love with you since the moment he saw you, which was during first year at the magical school. 

- While he was certainly too shy to approach you, he did do quite a bit of staring and talking to Harry about you; though he tried to pretend as though he couldn’t care less every time he realized how in love he sounded. 

- So fourth year comes around and he’s still just as infatuated with you; and just as emotionally stunted about it, as ever. But then, it happens.  

“Hey Ginny.” 

- You waved at the redheaded girl as you passed with a few of your friends, causing her older brother to stare at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted another head. 

“How do you know y/n y/l/n?!” Ron immediately asked after you were far away enough not to hear. 

- He spent the rest of their walk questioning her as to how she knew you and how you met and if you were close and blah, blah, blah. Ginny only got him to lay off after she started teasing him for being in love with you, but even then he still sent a few hesitant questions her way, all the while insisting he wasn’t all that interested. 

- Ginny is very pleased with her newfound power. It was like the cat who got the canary the first time she brought you over and introduced you to her blushing brother. Ron could have killed her yet “kissed” her at the same time; not literally.

- Even though you now know each other and are on friendlier terms, he’s still nervous and awkward around you. He’s always messing up his words, stuttering, tripping over things, staring, etc. He’s awful with women if you weren’t aware.

- And yet, you still seem to like him, and over time he does start to relax, even though he still has his moments.

- Ron never actually asks you out, you just sort of have a silent agreement. You start to spend more alone time together, you don’t date anyone else, you share awkward yet almost tender moments, etc. Your relationship status is later solidified with a; long awaited, kiss and a kiss alone.

- Ron is very much so a spontaneous “I’m just gonna kiss her and deal with the consequences later” type of person. He’s bad at expressing his feelings with words so he’ll do it with his actions, and he’ll do it quickly before he has the chance to stop himself; usually after a surge of emotions.

- So, in typical Ron fashion, he heard some guy mention how he was thinking about asking you out, and realized that you never did establish that the two of you were an item. He immediately started to think about how much he’d hate to see you with another guy and how much he cared about you.

- Because of that, he was quite distracted when he finally saw you again. He fidgeted and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as you walked together but just as you were thinking about saying something to him, he turned and laid one on you.

- Although you were a bit flustered and certainly very surprised, you kissed back and smiled at him as the two of you pulled away.

“I’ve been waiting to do that.” He admitted, his less confident personality returning as a blush creeped its way onto his cheeks.

- It’s in that moment that you’ve realized that you’ve fallen in love with a dork. A wonderful, beautiful dork.

- Though it tends to make him flustered, Ron is definitely a fan of pda. In the beginning of your relationship, he’s a bit defensive about it, like when his friends chuckle at you kissing his cheek or make faces at him while he’s got his arm wrapped around you, but he learns to ignore it and just brush them off. 

- Handholding. 

- Leaning your head on his shoulder. Perhaps it’s because it’s you initiating a type of affection or because it shows that you’re comfortable with him, but either way, he loves it. 

- Hugs. That’s all this boy wants. Just wrap your arms around him and let him hold you close goddamnit!

- You giving him kisses on the cheek; or anywhere else? Unparalleled. Never stop. 

- Abrupt, passionate kisses. 

- Snogging. He’s certainly a bit clumsy at first but you don’t mind; you probably are too. 

- He has a few select terms of endearment that he likes to use: darling, sweetheart, woman, my girlfriend. He doesn’t mind pet names but please stick to a simple “babe” or “honey” and not something like “won won” (shudders). 

- Ron sleeps on his back most of the time so you’ll just usually lay your head on his chest while he wraps his arms around you. That being said, he isn’t particular about the position, and since he has a habit of snoring, you may want to try spooning. 

- Do you know how long he’s waited to brush your hair behind your ear or wipe something off your face? That little action is so important to him and even he doesn’t really know why.

- Bridal carrying and piggyback rides. Ron’s a strong boy and he likes showing it off, and feeling you holding onto him.

- Getting your food stolen.

- Playing chess. 

- Dates at Hogsmeade. Sometimes the two of you just wander around and get yourselves a little privacy from every bodies prying eyes; and third wheeling.

- Going to the three broomsticks. If Ginny is there, he will immediately ask to leave and you oftentimes find it too amusing to be annoyed.

- Obviously, Ron doesn’t have a ton of pocket money so the two of you don’t do anything too expensive. A lot of your dates consist of roaming around the castle and the grounds together, finding somewhere to sit and just enjoying each other’s company.

- Sitting in the courtyard together.

- Cheering Harry on at Quidditch together and later cheering him, Ginny and Harry on with Hermione.

- Exaggerated stories. He’s always trying to impress you and make himself or what he’s done seem cooler than it really is.

- You’re constantly making jabs at each other and lovingly laughing at the other person. How can you not tease him for being in love with Viktor Krum, it’s the only way you can make yourself feel better about his obsession.

- You can practically see the hearts in his eyes when you laugh. He loves seeing and hearing it so much.

- Compliments and flattery. Is it so you’ll do his homework? Is it genuine? The world may never know.

- Making sure he actually does his work and does it well. He would be lost without you.

- You and Hermione talking about your mutual struggles with the boys. Ron and Harry watch from afar, agreeing that your little gathering makes them nervous and wondering what you’re saying.

- He likes when you try to teach him things, it gives him an excuse to be close to and watch you.

- He’s always encouraging you and reassuring you that you’ll do great and that you can do it. He’s so sure of you that you almost feel sure of yourself.

- Although he tries to not let you know just how much he is, he’s very impressed and proud of you at just about any given moment. He’s never met someone as amazing as you.

- Sometimes he surprises you with just how much he listens. Oftentimes at random, he’ll mention something that you once said and surprise you with just how much he’s taken to remembering; sometimes purely because it came out of your mouth.

- He’s always a bit speechless when you give him a gift. Once he’s over the shock, he’ll give you a “bloody hell, thank you” and a kiss on the cheek.

- Ron’s taken on Voldemort and countless other dangers and yet you’ll still have to be the one to kill the spiders in your relationship.

- Showing him muggle stuff. Oh Godric, the amount of time his father spent asking you about the muggle world when you first visited....

- Spending summers at the burrow and writing to each other; even though he teasingly pretends that he won’t.

- Ron is the youngest Weasley boy and Molly’s a momma bear so expect to be sweetly scrutinized and then made into a part of the family.

- The twins and Ginny teasing the two of you; though they do tease him more when they’re alone with him.

- You should probably apologize to Harry I’m advance because this boy never shuts up about you to him.

- Lightly touching and checking on each other’s injuries. He’s very gentle with you when you’re hurt, he treats you like you’re made of glass.

- Ron has always sort of felt like he was second best to Harry and most of his brothers so he loves when you pay special attention to him. Listening to his stories, praising him, having eyes only for him, it all makes him feel so much better about himself.

- Trying to help him smooth things over with people; especially when it comes to Harry and Hermione. It’s awkward to not be able to talk to them because your boyfriend keeps you right by his side so you try to fix things as soon as possible.

- As we all know, Ron is an incredibly jealous person and when he gets jealous, he can get a bit nasty. He’ll most likely interrupt you and make you choose between him or the guy, wanting you to prove that he’s more important to you than them by going with him. 

- Afterwards, he insults the person he’s jealous of, maybe accidentally somewhat insulting you in the process, and tries his best to make you think the other person is a git. 

- Ron is constantly jumping to defend your honor and is always ready to fight someone to do it. He may act like an ass to you at times but he really does love you and your safety is his top priority. Nothing is going to mess with his girlfriend. 

- The two of you have quite a few fights, all of them varying in intensity. Ron isn’t good at expressing his feelings so that’s usually what leads to fighting: him just not being able to communicate properly. Sometimes you have quick, hushed arguments, leaning in close to each others faces. Other times, you’ll be having loud and harsh ones filled with insinuations and insults you don’t mean. 

- You usually give each other space, whether it’s out of respect or because you both refuse to speak to the other one first depends on the situation. He asks Harry how long he thinks you’ll stay mad at him and oftentimes asks the boy to talk to you for him, mainly to see if you’re still mad. His apologies are stilted but he does give them and knowing how he is, you usually accept them. 

- There aren’t a ton of I love you’s in your relationship, given how awkward he is most of the time; particularly when you’re younger, but he will occasionally blurt it out without thinking. 

“Bloody hell,” he’ll say in awe. “Godric I love you.”

- While times certainly get tough in the future, he’s been in love with you since he was eleven and there’s no sign of it stopping any time soon. You’ll stick by each others sides and when the dust settles, you’ll start to build that life he’s been fantasizing about. 

[paperpocalypse]

significance.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,118 words

Warning: Swearing, violence

His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.

Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”

The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.

Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”

Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”

“Mean nothing to me.”

“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”

Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –

“We had no choice.”

“I know. But …”

“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”

“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”

At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”

She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”

Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.

“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.

Shit. Shit!

Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.

Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!

Fucking shit!

“Let her go.”

—

The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”

The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.

“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”

He looks at you. You blink.

Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.

Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.

Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.

You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.

“[Y/n].”

Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.

“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.

“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”

You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”

“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”

“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”

“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”

The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”

There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.

“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.

You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”

He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”

Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.

“The luckiest.”

—

He’s going to kill her.

Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.

“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”

“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”

“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”

Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.

You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.

“Don’t speak.”

“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”

“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”

“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”

“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”

Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.

Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.

“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”

Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”

“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”

What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.

“Why?” she whispers.

Come on …

“‘Cause you’re one of us.”

Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.

Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!

“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”

The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.

Five sees red.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

“STAY BACK!”

“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”

She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”

Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"

“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”

“It’s not about bringing them back.”

He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”

As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.

Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.

Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!

“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”

Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”

“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”

“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”

“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

—

“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”

Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.

“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”

“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”

“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”

Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”

The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.

“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.

He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”

“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”

“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”

“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Five sighs.

“You’re so sappy, you know that?”

(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)

—

“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”

“Shut up.”

“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”

She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.

Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”

Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.

When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.

Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.

“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”

“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”

His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.

Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.

Gunshots echo throughout the barn.

—

You’re smiling.

—

He wakes up, gasping for breath.

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”

Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.

But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.

Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.

She falls.

Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.

The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.

This is the end.

(This doesn’t have to be the end.)

… Five blinks, numb.

(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)

Unless …

(Seconds. Not decades.)

Seconds.

His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.

(C’mon, Five.)

Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.

It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.

Seconds.

Seconds.

He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.

Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.

Holy shit.

Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.

Got you, you son of a bitch.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”

The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”

Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.

The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.

Luther charges after her. “The case!”

“No!”

Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.

One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.

Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.

Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.

This is the end.

Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.

“Enough,” he says.

Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.

Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.

“Inte mer.”

He drops his weapon. No more killing.

—

After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.

As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.

“Five, it’s just a scratch.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.

Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.

“She could’ve killed you.”

“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”

“At your expense?”

Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”

All he can retort with is a displeased huff.

Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.

Suddenly, you chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”

“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.

—

“How bad does it hurt?”

Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”

“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”

A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.

… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.

In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.

“I love you.”

The words slip out, rough and unbidden.

Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.

But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.

“I love you too.”

[derangedangel]

Kiss Interrupted - Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: Almost kiss, but interrupted for @idkhaylijah’s 3k followers challenge

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 3,663

Author’s Note: Watch Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist which inspired this fic... okay it’s literally the base of this fic. Also, I didn’t realize until half way through it should be under 2k... sorry lol. Also the dress description I tried to give is the dress from Anastasia when she goes to the ballet. I haven’t posted in almost a year so be gentle please. 

It was a quiet afternoon in the Mikaelson home and you were enjoying a lunch with Rebekah. These moments where rare and few. You told your friend you didn’t feel like going out so she had lunch brought to the two of you. The dining table was set up beautifully so you still felt like you were dinging at one of New Orleans’s finest restaurants. Elijah was off to the side, enjoying a new novel. 

“Dear sister, why didn’t I receive an invitation to your lunch,” Klaus asked making his presence known as he entered from his study. 

Rebecca sighed placing her raspberry lemonade down before she acknowledged her annoying brother. “Nik, if you want to go on a lunch date with Y/N, just ask her yourself,” she quipped then smirked at Klaus. 

Your eyes grew as you paused mid-fork lift at Rebekah’s statement. 

Klaus replied quickly, no one noticing you get flustered at the thought of Klaus and you on a date. “I just wanted to bond with my little sister.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Rebekah said.

After you regained your composure you spoke up. “Would you care to join us, Klaus? There’s plenty of food.”

Rebekah spoke up before Klaus could respond. “Don’t offer him anything, Y/N. He’s just trying to bother us.”

Ignoring his sister Klaus smiled at you and said, “Thank you, love, but I’ll pass.”

“See, you don’t have to be nice to him,” Rebekah said, taking another sip of her drink.

“I like your family, Beks,” you replied, smiling at your friend. “In fact, I was thinking about having a dinner for my birthday next week if you would all like to come,” you asked looking at each of the Mikaelsons in the room.

Rebekah looked at you in shock. “Your birthday is next week?! How did I not know this?”

“Well, we’ve only know each other for a little over a year and last year when it was my birthday you Mikaelsons were having one of your... wars in the quarter,” you answered Rebekah but eyed Klaus at the last part of your sentence. 

Klaus raised his hands up in defense. “Don’t blame me. Blame the witches.”

“No friend of mine’s is just going to have a bloody dinner for her birthday,” Rebekah protested.

“Rebekah, I’ve had 49 other birthdays before this one. It’s no big deal,” you said nonchalantly before you took another bite of your meal.

“You’re turning 50,” Rebekah practically screeched. 

“Yeah. I’m a vampire, birthdays really don’t mean much anymore. I’m fine with a quiet dinner. I don’t need a lot of fuss over it.”

“Oh poppycock, Y/N. Fifty is a huge deal, regardless of the fact that you’re a vampire now. I’m throwing you a party. End of discussion,” Rebekah said then wiped the side of her mouth with her napkin and preceded to get up.

“You really don’t ha-,” you began to say but Rebekah interrupted you.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. The party is already in motion. And you deserve it.”

Elijah finally spoke up from his quiet corner, flipping the page in his book as he spoke. “There’s no use in fighting it, Y/N. Once my sister has plans for an event in her head, there’s no stopping her.”

You sighed, “Fine, do what you must Rebekah.”

“Fantastic,” Rebekah said clasping her hands together in joy. “And you won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll start planning right now.”

                                                        ~.~

A few days later, you were once again at the Mikaelson home. It started to feel like you were there more than you were at your own place. But as a vampire, you had nothing but time and wanted to spend it with people you cared about. 

You sat at the kitchen counter while Klaus poured you some blood.

“How’s the party planning going,” Klaus asked making eye contact with you as he finished pouring. 

“I wouldn’t know. The only thing Bekah asked me about was a guest list and colors. She told me to come over this morning and that’s all I know.”

“I suppose she’s staying to true to the part about you not having to worry then,” Klaus said. He poured himself a glass of blood as well, but was standing on the other side of the counter. You were happy with the distance. For the past few months, something was brewing between you and the hybrid. You tried to ignore it. It was wrong. Klaus was Rebekah’s brother. He had a daughter to worry about and a city to rule. Not to mention, you knew he was trouble. It was best just to be strictly platonic with Klaus.

“I wish that were the case. From what I’ve seen, she’s going all out. A huge ball, which is completely unnecessary. And, no offense, but I’ve heard whenever you Mikaelsons throw a ball, something bad goes down.”

Klaus took a sip from his glass and titled his head. “In our defense, when we through a ball, it’s usually a ploy to find out what the wolves, witches, or other vampires are up too, or stake our claim in a new town.”

“So your record of successful, nondeath having balls would be?”

Klaus paused and thought for a moment. “None.”

“See,” you shouted pointing out the potential problem with your birthday party. 

A small smile graced Klaus’s face as he shook his head. “I’m sure your birthday will be the exception to that record.”

“How do you know,” you asked worried. Klaus began to move closer to your side of the counter. 

“No one would dare ruin a ball in your honor,” Klaus answered in a slightly serious tone.

“Okay, but how do you know that? Things have been pretty good for your family lately. And what would be a better time to strike than at a ball?”

“I wouldn’t allow anything to ruin your night. I’ll make sure the entirety of New Orleans knows not to try anything on Saturday night. They can burn down the city on Sunday for all I care, but I’ll rip their throats out if they try anything on Saturday,” Klaus replied. Somehow in your worriedness over your party, Klaus ended up right in front of you. 

You chuckled at Klaus’s statement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence. Klaus could hear your heart pounding in your chest and you knew it from the way he smirked. He glanced down at your lips and you swallowed out of nervousness. He began to lean in slowly and you knew what was coming. You wanted this to happen. You had imagined how Klaus’s lips would feel against your own and it was finally about to happen. Forget your hesitance about why you should just be friends. You wanted him.

Your eyelids fluttered closed but then the two of you jumped apart at the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Hope shouted excitedly. 

“Hope,” you replied just as excitedly trying to ignore the pit in your stomach from almost kissing Klaus.

“Aunt Beks told me all about your party and I was wondering...,” she started then lingered hoping you would get the hit before she even had to ask.

You nodded smiling at the teenager. “Yes, Hope, you can invited whatever boy you have in mind.”

“Thank you,” she said eagerly as she hugged you.

“Boy?” Klaus perked up from where he now stood behind the counter again. “What boy?”

Hope looked to her father, but you spoke up before things had to get awkward between the lovestruck teenager and her overprotective father. “Oh Klaus, let the girl bring a date. It’s my party and I’m allowing it.”

“Well she’s my daughter,” Klaus replied.

“And it’s my party,” you said, eyes gleaming at Klaus. You had a sort of confidence at the fact that Klaus was going to kiss you. A boost in your ego if you will. “You wouldn’t deny the birthday girl what she wants on her birthday, would you?”

Klaus leaned over the counter smirking at you. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled back knowingly at him. 

You were a little lost in Klaus’s eyes so you didn’t initially notice when Rebekah entered the room.

“Alright, we’re already getting a late start. We’ve got to get moving, Y/N,” Rebekah said.

You turned away from Klaus to face your friend. “A late start on what, Bekah?”

“Dress shopping,” Rebekah said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. We have to find you a gown and have a seamstress tailor it to you. You have to look absolutely flawless on Saturday. I want it to look like you were born in that dress.”

You sighed closing your eyes to prepare yourself for the long day you knew you were about to have. Granted, you loved an extravagant gown and didn’t usually have a reason to wear one. But you knew Rebekah in party planning mode wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. “Fine, let me grab my bag and we can go.”

“Can I come too,” Hope asked looking between you and her aunt.

“Of course,” you smiled, happy to bring a buffer between you and Rebekah. 

                                                        ~.~

You were currently in your fourth dress. “Rebekah this is Hopeless.”

“I’m literally right here,” Hope said being cheeky.

You scowled at her joke and turned in the mirror. “I’m not loving any of these dresses. And this is our second store!”

“Be patient, darling,” Rebekah said as she went though another rack of dresses. “The prefect dress is here somewhere. Well, at least the perfect last minute dress.”

“Oh and speaking of last minute,” you said, stepping off the podium that was in front of the mirror, “I don’t have a date. How am I supposed to go to my own birthday ball dateless?”

“With the party I’m planning and the guest who will be trying to schmooze with you, you won’t even have time to entertain a date. And I’ll be busy on hostess duty so when I’m not with Marcel, you can dance with him.”

“Oh joy,” you said sarcastically turning on your heel. 

“And I’m sure one of my brothers will be loitering around somewhere. You can dance with one of them,” Rebekah said nonchalantly. Good thing she was busy looking at dresses or she would have seen your checks grow hot at the thought of dancing with Klaus. 

You walked over to another rack of dresses hoping to find the perfect one for your party. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. The perfect, show stopping, all eyes on you dress you had been searching for.

“Beks... I found it.”

Rebekah approached you and saw the dress you were holding so delicately in your hands. “You haven’t even tried it on yet.”

“I don’t need too. I already know.” You held the dress up to your body feeling the velvet material against your skin. “You think this is how brides feel when they find their wedding dress?”

Rebekah sighed, “I wouldn’t know.”

                                                            ~.~

After what felt like the longest week of your life, it was finally the night of your party. Rebekah made sure everything was taken care of, including having someone to do your hair and makeup. She even pulled out some old diamonds to go with your outfit. She mentioned something about a duchess owning them once, but your were to busy being blinded by the extravagant necklace to care. 

“Alright, the guest are starting to arrive,” Rebekah announced as she came into her room witch was your designated dressing room for the night. 

“Great! I’m ready,” you said standing up from your spot in front of the vanity. 

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere yet.”

“Why not,” you asked highly confused.

“You have to make an entrance! And you can’t do that with only ten people here,” Rebekah answered like you were out of your mind for even considering going down stairs.

You sat back down sighing. “So how long do I have to wait?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“What? But I’m ready now and-,” you began to say but Rebekah cut you off.

“No buts. You’ll thank me for it later when you see all those adoring people fawning over how incredible you look.”

“Fine,” you said crossing your arms over your chest. “Whatever.”

Thirty minutes later exactly, Rebekah returned and told you it was time. You left her room then waited for her to properly announce you before you made your way to the top of the stairs. She was right. It felt good to have everyone awing at how amazing you looked. You began to descend the stairs careful not to fall. Once you made it a few steps down, you saw Elijah ascend the stairs. Once he reached you, he held out his hand to escort you the rest of the way.

You smiled to the partygoers but spoke to the noble Mikaelson. “Thank you, Elijah. I was nervous I would tumble down these stairs then have to abruptly end the party out of embarrassment.”

Elijah kept his eyes forward as he lead you down the final steps. “You are more than welcome, Y/N. We couldn’t have the birthday girl enter her own party without a proper escort.”

You turned and smiled at him once you reached the bottom of the stairs. “We couldn’t,” you said then reached up to peck Elijah on the cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Klaus scowl at his older brother. 

The party was going smoothly. Rebekah did an incredible job and was a great hostess. Every passing minute, you worries about a potential Mikaleson threat ruining the night faded away. You danced with Marcel twice, and Elijah excused himself from Hayley to dance with you. Hope was having a wonderful time with her date, and as far as you could tell, Klaus hadn’t threatened the young man at all. Speaking of Klaus, you hadn’t seen much of him the whole night. 

The live band Rebekah hired switch to a new slow song and you quickly recognized the instrumental ballad they were playing. 

“I love this song,” you said softly to yourself. 

“Pardon me,” you heard a low accented voice say from behind you and you turned.  

“Would the birthday girl care to join me for a dance,” Klaus asked, his hand outstretched to you.

You tried to control you smile, but it grew wide and bright. “I’d love to,” you answered, then placed your hand in Klaus’s.

Klaus walked you to the dancefloor then slowly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and raised your join hands together.

“It’s about time you spoke to me tonight,” you said, being the first to break the silence. “I was beginning to think an enemy crashed my party and you were handling it.”

“I spent the past week threatening every supernatural creature within a 500 mile radius so that very thing would not happen,” Klaus said. 

Klaus was light on his feet. Elijah danced very formally. His steps were calculated. Marcel’s steps were more on the modern side. He danced to more upbeat songs with you. Saving the slow ones for Rebekah, so he could hold her close. Klaus was... smooth. You could tell he had the same classical dance style as his older brother, but he wasn’t as focused on making the next perfect step. He was graceful, but carefree. 

“Please forgive me for not finding you earlier to tell you how ravishing you look,” Klaus said making you blush and look away from his piercing eyes. Although it felt like Klaus was ghost for most of the night, his eyes didn’t leave you wherever you went in the room. From the moment you entered the party, his eyes were glued to you. He was jealous he didn’t get to help you down the stairs. Your navy dress fit you like a glove. The sparkles on the cape-like feature always hit the light just right so you couldn’t be missed. He wished you weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel the velvet soft skin of your hand against his.

“Thank you. It was all Rebekah honestly,” you said then looked back up into Klaus’s eyes, “she put all this together. I just picked out the dress.” 

“No,” Klaus said softly shaking his head at you. You tilted your head in question at his response. “Do not give my sister the credit. Yes, she may have helped with your hair and the makeup, but even without that, you would still be breathtaking.”

After that compliment you were sure you would have a permeant smile on your face for the rest of the night. You didn’t know how to respond to Klaus’s sweet words. Your hand that was placed on his shoulder gently went to the nape of his neck. You moved in closer to him so your chests were now pressed against each other. Klaus’s grip around your waist tightened. There was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. He began to lean down and your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I have everyone’s attention,” Rebekah’s voice boomed around the room without the need for a mic in her hands.

The bleak feeling of disappointment overtook you and Klaus as you pulled apart. Your hand glided down his arm, wanting to remain touching him in some way. 

“If the birthday girl would please come to the front so...”

                                                         ~.~

The party was basically over now. Just a few stragglers left. Everything went off without a hitch. You couldn’t have asked for a better night. Well, there was one thing you could ask for.

“Klaus?”

Klaus was alone on the balcony. Typical dramatic Mikaelson. 

He turned when you called his name. Your silhouette was perfect against the night sky. “Shouldn’t you be inside entertaining guest,” Klaus asked.

“I’m all party-ied out now,” you said then chuckled. A short breeze came by making you shiver as you reached Klaus near the railing.

“Here,” Klaus said, taking off his suit jacket and placing it over your shoulders. His hands lingered on you arms. “You should be inside.”

You tried to ignore the thud of you heart against your rib cage so you could speak. “You should be inside, too,” you pointed out, seeing as he was outside before you.

“Thousand year old hybrid here, love,” Klaus said smiling down at you. His hands left your arms and were now in his pant’s pockets.

“Fifty year old vampire here, Nik,” you stated being a smartass. 

Klaus shook his head as he laughed. “I think I may have you beat by a few hundred years.”

“Yeah, well, I should be fine out here as long as you’re here,” you said turning to the balcony, no longer looking at him.

There it was again. That warmth he felt when he was around you. It was like sunshine after a long and dark snowstorm. He felt light, at ease with you.

“You will be,” Klaus said. You turned your head to look at him and he was smirking at you. 

You felt nervous and giddy at the same time. Like a high schooler texting a new crush.  “What,” you asked smiling at him.

“You...,” Klaus said, his eyes trailed over your body. “You’re remarkable. I’ve done a countless amount of horrible things, but somehow, I’ve gotten the chance to know you... and you’re incredible.”

Your nerves were getting the best of you. Once again, you tried your best to control you smile, but you face was getting hot. “Klaus...,” you mutter, his name coming off your lips like a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. You nudged him lightly with your hand in a playful matter, but he grabbed it. His eyes serious on you.

He pulled you in closer. Your eyes searching his face for an answer to the thousands of questions that were going through your head. Suddenly, he let go of your hand and walked away. You were shocked to say the least. Blinking back utter confusion. 

Klaus walked up to the balcony doors and shut them. He turned around and faced you, a devilish grin on his face. “So we don’t get interrupted this time.”

Your shoulders relaxed as you smiled. Your sudden confusion melting away and turning to joy. “Good thinking.” 

Klaus took wide steps towards you, meeting you most of the way as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders once he reached you. His hands gripped your waist. His lips finally collided with yours. No interruptions. No worrying about what other people would think, or reasons why this could be a bad idea. Just you and him.

It was a good thing that the two of you were already dead, because the kiss was heart stopping. You removed your gloves earlier in the night, so your delicate hands were roaming through his hair as the kiss grew more intense. 

A flame ignited in Klaus’s chest from your touch. Your kiss was intoxicating and he knew he would never get enough. Why did he wait so long to do this again?

Klaus pulled back just as breathless as you. His hands rested respectfully on your lower back, while one of your hands was on his chest and the other in his hair. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N, ” Klaus said softly. 

In you post kiss daze you replied, “huh?”

“It’s after midnight,” Klaus explained. “You’re party was on Saturday, but now it’s Sunday. So it’s officially your birthday.”

A warm feeling grew in your tummy. This man already knew you so well. “Thank you,” you said gleaming up at him. You were already in deep with Klaus. There was no turning back now.

“You’re welcome, love,” Klaus replied. His hand now cupping your cheek as he gazed into your eyes. 

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

[urimaginespimp]

Breathe (This love pt. 5)

Bucky x Reader

Set during Endgame

Look out for: Stubborn dad Thor, and 40s Bucky.

--------

Previous Chapter

--------

None of you thought it was going to end that way.

When Carol, a new friend of yours, found Tony in space with one of Thanos’ daughters, there was a spark of hope within you. But when your adoptive father chopped the titan’s head off out of rage, you knew you had to go back to the people who might be able tell you what’s next.

To visitors, the Norns’ cave felt eerie. But stepping in it for the first time after Thor took you under his care, it still felt like home. You could already feel the Norns’ presence despite not being submerged in the pool of water.

You smile at the memory of how they have the reputation of being cruel and torturous to anyone they possess, when they have never been less than gentle to you. Dipping your right leg first, you instantly felt how they made the water warmer. Walking into the middle, you waited for them to enter your consciousness.

Taking a deep breath, you laid yourself back and relaxed enough for your body to start floating on water. Then you felt them.

“We’ve been expecting you, child.” Your voice blended with theirs once they spoke up.

I’ve been meaning to visit you. I’m sorry I didn’t go sooner. You replied in your thoughts.

“You feel... broken.”

A titan got hold of the stones and snapped the universe’s population in half. I- I lost most of my family.

“We know. And now you’re here because your heart cannot rest.”

What can you tell me?

“There is a man...”

Of course, there is. You caught yourself thinking. There was a pang in your chest when you remembered how amused you were when one of your Midgardian friends rolled her eyes and said that phrase.

“Now is not the time, Y/N.” They snapped at you.

Sorry. Please continue.

“The man is stuck in a realm in Midgard, and he’s on his way.”

There is a realm within the Midgard realm? Confusion laced your thoughts.

“But remember child, it is not until resentment within your family is put aside, that you would have even an ounce of chance to fix everything.” You think back to how Stark still isn’t speaking to anyone of you. Yiu haven’t heard from him for years now.

How can I fix us?

“You can’t meddle in this one Y/N. It is only with time that the rough patch would heal.” you sighed in frustration but found yourself agreeing. If it’s for the best, then you’ll let time take its course.

“Now, you are banned from leaving the cave until you tell us about this Bucky that’s plaguing your mind.”

--------

When you were first introduced you as Thor’s adopted daughter to the Asgardians, they were polite but you could feel that they were still unsure of you. But with spending time with helping them fish and being patient enough to teach them the Midgardian lifestyle, they now treated you as their own princess despite not being of royal blood. But since Thanos, Thor has been more distant – leaving responsibilities to you and Val.

For five years, you tried to appear as if you were doing better than most. And after taking time to just wallow in sadness for a while, you finally started visiting Nat and Steve from time to time. You were glad to hear that Steve was going to therapy, and you know he means well when he drops hints that you should go with him and join his sessions, but you always gave lame excuses, and often diverted away from any topic that would involve Bucky.

Nat however, has never been one to shy away from calling you out. “I know there’s a part of you that still blames yourself for not bending his blood and brains out.” she once confronted you when you were lounging on the couch, day drinking and eating sandwiches. You sat up and gave her a sad smile, your eyes tearing up.

“Damn it Nat, I came here to drink, not to get therapy from you.” you chuckled, grimacing at how forced it sounded.

“But it was never your fault. Believe me when I say that we all blamed ourselves at some point.” She continued, and your eyes teared up.

In the last five years you thought no one could see that you’ve been beating yourself up for not getting to where Steve and Thor were sooner. You thought that maybe if you had, you would’ve stopped Thanos, and half of the world, including Bucky, would still be here.

“Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m still in Wakanda, and that this has all been a nightmare.” you breathed out, feeling yourself about to break down for the first time. “I can’t find myself to stop waiting for him even if I don’t know if we could ever bring everybody back.” you finally admitted.

“Y/N -”

“Nat, the worst part is that I never got to tell him I love him. I know he knew and didn’t feel the same way. But I still wish I got to.” tears were starting to spill from your eyes, and Natasha was quick to get the drink from your hand before it spilled, and take you in her arms for comfort.

If you were to be completely honest, half the reason you go out of your way to visit Nat and Steve, was so you could also visit The Smithsonian Institution, and just... look at him. You’ve read what was written about him over and over, but it wasn’t enough to replace the yearning that you have inside.

In your sleep you can sometimes still see him just seconds before the blip. On other nights, it’s just the image of him sleeping soundly – his lips parted slightly, and his breathing getting steadier by the minute, the crease between his brows relaxed, and his hair pushed and tied at the back after you offered to - a sight you’ve engraved in your mind after many nights of comforting him following a nightmare.

“He loved you too, Y/N”. Steve spoke out from the doorway, seeing your state. “Maybe not like the way you do, but I know he does. And today I went out for a walk and -”

“Steve, if you’re about to tell her to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you on the head with a PeanutButter sandwich.” Nat cut him off.

But then everyone’s attention snapped to Nat’s desk, where a notification pinged. It says that someone was outside. Sliding on the call, there was a man outside, asking if anyone was at home. You know you’ve seen his face before, and after he finally said his name, you remembered who he is.

“Is this an old message?” Steve asked after a few seconds in shock.

“It’s the front gate.”

--------

“I’ll do it too.” You spoke up to the group.

The team was going to have two tests – one where it would be a quick time on wherever the test subject would want to go, and if it’s successful, the second would leave the test subject longer in the timeline they choose. And you just volunteered yourself right after Clint.

“No, I forbid you.” Thor spoke up from his seat. Everybody turned their attention to him in surprise. All along they thought he was asleep because he had sunglasses on and was unresponsive.

“Fa-”

He stood abruptly and came closer to you. “This is non-negotiable, Y/N. I’ve already lost enough; I can’t lose you too." Your eyes welled with tears in surprise. For the last five years he’s managed to shut everyone out including you – leading you to believe that he doesn’t care anymore and just hasn’t kicked you out, out of honor.

“We’ll let you both talk first.” You heard Steve say in a low voice, ushering everyone else out of the room.

Thor grunted and moved away back to his seat, still wearing his glasses, while you stayed standing, leaning in the corner. Taking a long hard look at him, you understood where he was coming from. But you also knew getting things right would be the only way to possibly get him back up again. And it was a risk you were willing to take.

“There was a time when I believed you were dead.” You started talking, regardless of not knowing if he was listening. “I jumped right into anger out of guilt, and as I was ruthlessly destroying those outriders, I thought I was gonna have to stay feeling that way forever. Just plain angry.” You chuckled and pushed yourself from the wall.

“But there was a moment where that anger was replaced by worry and fright. It was when Bucky was getting too overwhelmed by the creatures’ attacks. Yes, I almost got pierced like a kebab right after, but it was also the moment I realized that I preferred feeling any other emotions than blinding anger. I don’t want you feeling that way forever too.”

“I’m not angry.” he snapped, standing up once again to get closer to you.

“Yes, you are. But above all you’re hurting.” you stood your ground in front of him.

“I am definitely NOT hurting.” He sarcastically answered.

“Really? Then take those glasses off. Let me see those definitely not bloodshot eyes.” you smiled gently up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, when he snorted at you. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you sniffling and trying to hide it by pretend-drinking that empty can of beer earlier.”

“gods, why are daughters so annoyingly observant.” He muttered, finally throwing the empty can of beer somewhere in the room. You can see that the team was back just right outside the glass door. You gave them an assuring smile, and faced him again.

“Well?”

“If it works on Clint, then fine.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help but tackle him out of gratitude.

--------

Clint was on the ground once he returned, and Nat rushed to his side to check on him.

“Hey, look at me.” she asked him, and he turned to look at everyone. His eyes were teary, but it wasn’t from sadness.

It was hope.

“It worked!”

--------

“Now, Y/N. This time you’re going to be there for a longer period, okay? Use your powers if defense is necessary.” Banner instructed you. You were now standing at the center of the machine in your suit. But only Nat and Steve knew what you had under it. It was their idea.

“Are you ready?” This time, Nat was behind the controller with Banner to overlook it. You gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Wait, where are you going anyway?” You heard Scott asked out loud, as Nat input the year. You looked over to where Steve was standing and he was also grinning.

“Say hi to him for me.” you heard him say before you felt yourself shrunk. And you were in.

--------

You made it out of a tent, now out of your suit and left with the old nurse’s uniform you were wearing under it earlier. Everybody else was too distracted, cheering on Steve because he just brought back with him the soldiers from Hydra’s base.

You tried to calm your nerves, just realizing that the people around you were now most likely dead from your timeline. How many of them survived the war, and how many of their grandchildren have you befriended? And how many of those grandchildren were also taken by the blip?

When the crowd was starting to disperse and most of the people were trying to get back to their tasks, you found yourself roaming around, a little lost, trying to figure out where the medical tent is.

“Steve, I told you I feel fine.” you froze when you heard his voice a little far behind you.

“It’s better to make sure, Buck.” you heard Steve insist. You still couldn’t will your legs to keep walking. “And even if you are, you need rest. Just let me find you a...”

shit

“...nurse! Hey, ma’am!” You weren’t sure if you were the one Steve was calling out. Turning around slowly, your breath hitched when you finally faced them. Bucky’s own face went from annoyed to entranced in a second. He was staring at you with the very same pair of orbs you’ve been missing. Only that in this timeline, they still held a glint of playfulness and innocence in them.

You cleared your own throat when you realized it’s been a few seconds since anyone said anything. “Uh, what can I do for you, S- Captain?” you gave them a smile, trying not to chuckle from almost calling him by his first name.

“You know what, Steve, I am feeling a little funny.” Bucky nudged him with his elbow. And you turned your attention to him.

“Right. Uh, allow me to assist you, Sargeant.” you walked slowly towards him, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Steve muttered to him.

He put his arm around your shoulder for support as you start walking to what you hope was the medical tent. It was only then you realized that it was left arm. Your hand shakingly reached for his wrist, careful not to go for the hand, as if you were just making sure that you would be able to help him hold himself up.

“So... what’s your name?” He started trying to make small talk.

“Y/N” you answered, trying to mask your nervousness.

“I’m James. But you can call me Bucky.” Hearing him introduce himself in such a confident manner struck you deeply. You know that after this, he wouldn’t be able to know who he is for decades to come.

You almost wanted to warn him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern after being met with silence.

“Yes, sir. I’m just a tad nervous. I’m kinda new here.” you gave him a tight smile.

“Please call me by my name. And lucky for you, I’m the easiest patient you’ll ever tend to, doll. All I need is some company while on bed rest.” He gave you a boyish smile.

“You got yourself a deal, James.” you found yourself returning the smile.

Entering what was thankfully the medical tent, you helped him settle down on one of the beds. There were only about 3-5 other patients, and they were all being tend to already.

“I’m kind of curious, why did you decide to serve?” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong with you, soldier?” you asked him first, and he responded with a small shake of his head. Smiling, you came up with a believable answer. “My dad was a high-ranking officer, but something happened, and they lost a lot of people. And now he’s back home wallowing in guilt. I decided to serve in behalf of him, so now I’m here.” you bit the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

James was looking at you in awe, and he took your hand in his left one and gave it a light squeeze. “You don’t have a man waiting on you back home?” you could hear he was almost hesitant to ask.

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill. How would you be able to say something so heart wrenching?

“Bu... He was among those who didn’t make it.” you cleared your throat to compose yourself. This was all too much.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he didn’t know what to say. He almost kicked himself for having a tinge of relief in knowing that you weren’t committed to anyone.

“He wasn’t really mine... I was in love, yes. And he knew but just didn’t really feel the same. And I never resented him for it. I just wish I was brave enough to really tell him before he...” you choked up and apologized to him, but there was no judgement behind his eyes.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want for you to be filled with regrets every time you remember him. I know I wouldn’t.” He gave you an assuring smile, squeezing your hand in comfort as the tears finally run down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for crying. Now they’re gonna think you were being mean to me.” you gave him a sad smile.

“Steve will lecture me about manners for sure.” He chuckled.

“He still does it.” You thoughtlessly blurted out, earning a confused look from him. “I- I’ve heard some people saying he’s been super righteous even way before he became the Captain America.” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he believed you.

“Yeah. Always been a punk.” He replied, but you could hear adoration lace his voice.

“I think I should leave you to actually get some rest.” You knew it was time to go.

He nodded and smiled at you. “You're the most beautiful nurse I’ve ever seen. I don't think most of us wouldn’t mind if your face is what will be the last thing we’ll see.”

“Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with you. Get some sleep, soldier.” you turned and was already near the way out, when he spoke up.

“We’re going on a raid tomorrow. Will I get to see you when we come back?”

You felt your heart drop. You knew what was about to happen to him.

You turned to face his way and walked back to him where he was now sitting up on the bed.

“James, you’re a strong man. You’re going to be okay.” eventually.

“Thank you, angel.”

It was your turn to give his left hand a squeeze. And bringing it up, you gave it a small kiss before gently dropping it back to him.

“I’ll wait for you to come back, Buck.” you smiled, and quickly left the tent before you completely break down.

It was time go back.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit

@tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

Today is a great day. Fearless (Taylor's Version) + New TFATWS episode.

[doubleleoenergy]

Medusa

She looked right through me, and I turned to stone. Medusa, Medusa, I've been here alone. And I crumbled to pieces my body, my weakness, is on the floor. And the wind will blow and blow, and I won't be here no more.

Pairing: Medusa!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of rape/almost rape, loss of virginity, fingering (female receiving), lots of smutty goodness

Word Count: 2122

Author’s Notes: I wrote this for the Greek Mythology Writing Challenge via: faeryloki. Using the prompt of Medusa. I was super nervous and excited to write this, I hope you all enjoy!

Natasha, Natasha, you REALLY shouldn’t be here. It’s not the first time she’s visited the temple since Athena’s wrath turned her into the VILE image that everyone feared, but she couldn’t HELP it. Something about returning to the place where she had lost EVERYTHING, the place where she felt so helpless and small when she now felt so POWERFUL sent adrenaline rushing through her veins.

Athena’s TEMPLE, who would’ve thought she’d end up here, but she just HAD to. Was she really going to pay her respects to the Goddess? To the statue of the woman who had clearly been ENVIOUS of her beauty long before her beautiful spirals turned to SNAKES? She should be pissed, but Natasha was only mad at POSEIDON at this point, the one who had raped her and sent her on her path towards pain and destruction.

Her calloused fingers reached out to touch the smooth doric column, running them up and down the simple fluting that ran vertically along the tall stone. She used to LOVE this place, loved sitting on the porch in front of the stone and gold deity inside. It was her safe haven, which was ironic given that Athena was KNOWN for being the Goddess of War. But Athena was so much MORE than that, she was badass enough to have been born by Zeus and Zeus ALONE. She was a beautiful virgin, something Natasha had once been TOO.

Natasha’s thoughts were interrupted by a blood curdling SCREAM drifting from the inner temple. Brows furrowed and footsteps remained light along the temple floor as she walked inside. That’s when she noticed the man and the MAIDEN.

The man was tall and muscular, his dark curls piled high atop his head. His chiton was slightly open, his body pinning down the SMALL woman below him. Her hair fell loosely down her back, her peplos ripped and tattered along the floor by her side, her chiton that was pinned in place pulled open to reveal her bare body underneath. The woman was MORTAL, but her body could rival any Goddess in the way that it was displayed perfectly against the porch steps.

“Please, I beg of you, let me go!” The woman shrieked, tears staining her rosy red cheeks. “I’m a VIRGIN, please.” The words brought Natasha back to her past, banging her hand on the column beside her as a way to demand the attention from the room.

“I believe the maiden wants to be let GO.” She snarled. The man released his hold on the damsel below, standing up and turning to face her.

“Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to-” He trailed off, eyes meeting hers, instantly knowing his fate. The serpents along her hairline stood in defense, hissing at the man who DARED to rest his eyes upon hers. His fate was quickly sealed, his body groaning as inch by inch was encrusted from his bare feet to the top of his head in STONE.

The woman who had just almost become the man’s victim watched in HORROR at the sight of him encapsulated in stone, her own body frozen where she lay in front of the statue of Athena. She wanted to pull her chiton tight around her body again, feeling uncomfortably bare in front of Natasha, but she couldn’t move her hands. Though she wasn’t STONE like the man, it was only her mind that kept her from moving. 

Her eyes moved from the now statuesque man to the other woman. The moment she set her sight upon Natasha she knew just who she was. Her chiton was TIGHT against her skin, her hourglass figure accentuated by the taut fabric. Brown sandals adorned her feet, her eyes following up to the woman’s face, the serpents moving side-to-side against her head.

“You’re MEDUSA.” She croaked, letting go of a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The woman’s attention turned from the stoned figure to the damsel in distress again, taking a stride forward in the direction of her voice.

“That I AM, but you can call me Natasha.” She boasted. Natasha moved to stand in front of the other, hands resting on her hips. “And what was a beautiful maiden like you doing in here with such a VILE mortal as he?” Her head tilts, the serpents going back to rest against her skull.

Her heart feels like it’s beating out of her chest, glancing to the stone man and then back to Natasha. “I-I was just admiring Athena’s statue, talking to her...which I often do. The man came in after me, introduced himself and sat down with me. Before I knew it he...he…” Tears are welling up in her eyes, swallowing the large lump in her throat as she FIGHTS them back.

“Shh...it’s okay now my dear maiden...you’re SAFE…” Natasha cooed, dropping to her knees in front of the woman. “I’m surprised you’re even talking with me, most mortals would run away AFRAID of me by now...well, those of whom I hadn’t yet turned to STONE…” Natasha’s eyes roam the damsel’s body, licking her lips until she meets her gaze again. She still doesn’t see fear in them, not like how they looked at the man who had almost RAPED her.

Y/N manages to shake her head, not wanting to remove eye contact. Even with the serpents, Natasha was BREATHTAKINGLY beautiful. “No, I’m not afraid. You saved my LIFE. I am forever grateful to you, Natasha.” She doesn’t know why she moves to bow her head to the woman. She wasn’t even a real GODDESS like those who had temples made in their honor, but the Gods and Goddesses were not here to save her, not like NATASHA.

“Grateful, huh?” Her lips curl into a flirtatious smirk at the bow. “Well, would you like to SHOW me how grateful you are?”

The maiden bites her bottom lip, eyes darting from Natasha’s gaze to her plush lips and then back up again. She sits up, her chiton falling the rest of the way off of her shoulders, her face inches from the woman's. The serpents are silent, none jutting out to bite her even though she was so CLOSE. They didn’t feel threatened by her presence.

Natasha grips y/n’s chin in her fingers, her nails digging softly into the skin. She closes the gap between the two, velvet to velvet lips crashing together. This is the maiden’s FIRST kiss, Natasha can tell, especially from the way she seems to not move them at all against hers. Natasha is doing all the work, her tongue jutting out to help part the woman’s lips, crushing theirs more closely together. The rhythm Natasha has set helps the maiden ease into it, figuring out what to do with her lips as they continue.

The hand that once cupped the maiden’s lips moves down to cup one of her breasts, Natasha massaging the soft skin, eliciting a groan of pleasure from y/n. She’s never FELT like this, never been touched by anyone, and for some reason it made her feel an ache in her core that had never HAPPENED. Not sure what to do with her own hands, she moves them around Natasha’s neck, interlocking her fingers together to keep them in place. This breaks Natasha from the kiss, her lips trailing across the woman’s jawline and placing hot kisses along her neck. She pulls back, making sure she can look the maiden in the eyes once more.

“I need you to verbally say what you want, beautiful.” She herself had not been given the option to CHOOSE in the temple when Poseidon used her body, she would NOT let herself turn into a ravenous monster such as he was.

Y/N’s cheeks flush a bright red, her fingers careful against the woman’s neck not to touch the serpents, all eyes on HER. “I-I’ve never done this...any of this...but I want you to touch me.” She whispers. “Your touch feels so GOOD.”

A verbal okay to continue, that’s all Natasha needed before her lips crash against the fragile woman’s again, her hands moving to push her back against the open chiton she had once worn. “Then I will make you feel good with my touch...show you what it feels like to be a GOOD girl.” Her hands trail down y/n’s sides, her mouth kissing from her collarbone to her breast, taking a red nipple into her mouth and sucking softly on it. The feeling makes her other nipple harden, her back arching to get more of the woman’s lips on her. 

Somehow her body felt COLD from a breeze ripping through the temple, yet so hot under Natasha’s lips. Fingers moved down her y/n’s chest, reaching her outerfolds that were already sheen and glistening with wetness.

“My my...you may not know what to do but your body sure DOES.” Natasha takes her lips from the woman’s nipple and moves them to the neglected one, two fingers circling that bundle of nerves the maiden probably didn’t even realize she HAD below her legs. 

“Oh my goodness!” She cries out, her legs instinctively moving to close but Natsha’s knee nuzzles between them, keeping them apart.

“My beautiful MAIDEN, you mustn’t move. If you want to feel good, like I said before...you’ve got to be a good girl.” There’s that phrase again, good girl. She did WANT to be a good girl. Y/N’s fingers busy themselves in the ripped cloth of her chiton beneath her, trying to keep from bucking her hips into Natasha’s fingers. She wanted to do as she was told, wanted to FEEL good.

Natasha’s fingers stopped their motions against her clit, moving them to y/n’s lips. “Open.” She commands, the maiden below opening her mouth wide enough to let the fingers in. “Get them nice and wet for your cunt.”

A shiver runs down her spine, sucking on the thin fingers before Natasha decides they’re wet enough with saliva and pulls them away, moving one of the fingers down and pressing it between her folds. She can now feel the wetness she’d produced, using that and the spit from her finger to push into her.

Y/N’s eyes close tight, her walls also tightening instinctively around the finger inside of her. She’s not used to this, but she cannot help but feel thankful for the way Natasha was pleasuring her body. Once her body relaxes Natasha moves the finger in and out, warming her body up before she pushes the second finger inside. The serpent's hiss at the woman crying out in pleasure, moving along her head to get a better view.

“Look how PRETTY you look on my fingers, taking them in your cunt so well. It’s so tight, but you want them to fit, don’t you? You want to be a good girl and keep them inside.” Her pace quickens, the maiden’s moans bouncing off the stone walls of the inner temple. Natasha is clearly pleased with herself, eyes taking in the sight of the woman coming undone below her.

“Open those eyes, beautiful. Want you to see how proud you have made me.” Her eyes flutter open, her stomach in knots as she feels a tightness she has never FELT before. “Natasha, I...I feel weird.” She shushes her, eyes darkening at the thought of what’s to come.

“That’s a GOOD feeling, your body wants you to let go, to cum all over my fingers. And you can do that, I want you to do that as long as you LOOK at me.” Being the MEDUSA made eye contact not possible for most, others refusing to look at her just for who she was. The maiden, however, looked at her with WANT, with LUST, and she couldn’t help but feel powerful with all eyes on her for once.

Y/N’s body starts to quiver, a final cry slipping out of her mouth as her walls tighten around Natasha’s fingers, keeping her gaze on the woman above her as she releases her orgasm. The fingers inside her continue to pump in and out, coaxing her down from her release before they are pulled out, leaving the maiden feeling EMPTY.

Natasha sits up, towering further over the woman as her lips curl around her fingers, sucking the sweet juices from the skin. Once they have been stripped of their sweetness she pulls them out with a pop, a sigh of excitement leaving her lips.

“You did AMAZING, my beautiful maiden.” She moves her body next to the woman’s on the porch, eyes briefly meeting the gaze of Athena’s statue before she brings her attention back to her naked lover. “Now I want you to do what I just did to ME.”

[hintofelation99]

Hi! I love your posts and want to ask your opinion on something. Who do you think in the batfam has the most and the least common sense of a normal person? If you can, can you also list how they are arranged? Thank you!

Ooohhh, this is a fun one! In my mind all bats lack common sense. Like obviously they're hella smart, after all they are a family of detectives, they just aren't very bright.

Here's a quick rundown (least to most): Tim and Dick tie for first place, both lack common sense in just in completely different ways. Then Damian (mostly cause of the whole 'being raised by league of assassins' thing), Bruce, Cass (controversial ik), Steph, Jason, Duke, Babs, and last on the list is obvs Alfred. (Kate is probs between Cass and Steph, but I've only really seen her in the DCAMU and need to get to know her better).

And Ima add a 'keep reading' cause this is gonna get long.

Tim:

Tim is one of the smartest in the family. He deduced Batman's identity as a child, majorly fucked up the League of Assassins, and has been honored (I say this v sarcastically just btw) with Ra's creepy obsession. He's smart, plain and simple. However, when it comes to just day to day survival and being loved, goddamn that boy is dumb.

He regularly mixes energy drinks and coffee. Sometimes he even mixes energy drinks, alcohol, and coffee.

In his mind warnings are optional. "Tim, did you just sniff that drano?" "Yeah, why?" "IT LITERALLY SAYS DO NOT SMELL" "Oops"

He regularly tests shit on himself. "Why is Tim on the floor?" "He mixed joker venom and fear gas to see what would happen" "HE WHAT"

Also if you try to compliment him or tell him you love him he will find a way to misunderstand. "Tim, I love you and you are an amazing son." "I don't know who this Tim is but he sounds great" "It- it's you, literally you. Timothy Jackson Drake." "I'm a bit confused, I didn't know you knew two Timothy Jackson Drakes. You should really introduce us."

Dick:

Dick in many ways is a total himbo. He's a complete sweetheart, super supportive, and very ditzy. His ditzy-ness directly correlates to how relaxed he is. Chilling in the manor? Peak himbo. A mission in space? Absolute genius and amazing leader. Just took down a bunch of thugs? Slowly reverting into dopey boi. He always has the ability to be super analytical, smart, and big brain, but he likes being whimsical and even airheaded. And that's not a bad thing, it's just him taking mental breaks, being lighthearted.

"YOU PUT DIESEL IN YOUR CAR?" "...Yeah, in my defense the nozzles look basically the same" "They're different colors?! Also the diesel nozzle doesn't even fit into your gas tank, how did you get it in?" "I'm a good pourer."

He always responds to the word dick and it always confuses him. "God Ra's is such a dick!" "What?" "Ra's is a dick" "I'm not Ra's!" "Wha- no! I mean penis dick!" "Ohhhh, yeah he is a penis dick"

Once Dick is safe he reverts into himbo pretty quickly, even after stressful situations. "Hey Wally?" "Yes babe?" "I forgot how to change my lock screen again" "Dick, you just hacked into an alien spaceship not even an hour ago??" "What's that have to do with anything?"

Damian:

Damian lacks common sense from growing up with the League of Assassins. He's an amazing warrior and super analytical but casual human interaction alludes him. He is getting better though, so eventually he'll be lower on the list than Steph. But for now he's a senseless bby.

The first time someone tried to give him high five he assumed it was an attack and flipped them. Same with a fist bump.

This is complete canon but his original treatment of Alfred, his brothers, and, well, everyone. Like bby boy please read the room.

His ego can easily override common sense. Like he wouldn't jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it, but if someone said he couldn't he'd immediately swan dive off that bridge.

Bruce:

For the world's greatest detective he can be a major dumb bitch sometimes. Some of it's growing up rich and some is being so wrapped up in his 'crusade for justice' that he just misses basic shit.

One time he walked in on Roy and Jason making out, the next day he saw them cuddling, then they mentioned moving in together. It took him three months to realize that they're dating.

He doesn't understand coupons, like at all. Jason has tried to explain them but Bruce just gets even more confused.

Bruce tried to make coffee once. He literally just poured coffee beans in water and microwaved it. He was surprised when it didn't taste good.

Cass:

Cass is similar to Damian in she lacks common sense from an unconventional upbringing. However she's learning way faster than Damian and depending on where in the timeline you're looking she might have more common sense than Babs.

Basic things like lines, turn taking, and speaking when spoken to aren't innate to her. Like, she knows and understands them, but often forgets about them.

There are many times that she blurs the line between civilian and vigilante because she'll do something that looks v stupid and dangerous for a civilian. The thing is she never notices when she does this.

One time she was in a restaurant and there was a cockroach on the wall across the room (cause Gotham) and instead of getting up and killing it like a normal person she threw her steak knife and impaled it.

Steph:

Steph is probably lacks common sense the most conventional yet slightly concerning way. She lacks common sense in the same way a cartoon character or sitcom character would. Like it's sorta realistic but at the same time damn bby girl why are you such a disaster??

She will do anything on a dare. Anything. There is a rule against daring Steph to do things while in the manor or on patrol.

Every time she hears someone say Red Robin she yells yum. This has gotten both her and RR shot.

Steph is v lucky that 1) she's a badass and 2) the batfam loves her because she annoys absolutely everyone just for shits and giggles and the only reason she hasn't been murdered is that Cass scares everyone.

Jason:

All common sense is lost when dramas at stake. Say what you will but Jason is the (second) biggest drama queen in the family. Also he, like most bats, lacks a sense of self preservation which leads to shit common sense.

He tried to steal Batman's tires.

Sometimes he listens to music during patrol and tries to hit people/shoot on beat. This has lead to stab wounds.

Jason loves to loudly quote classic literature while on stake outs. This is a problem for obvious reasons.

Duke:

Ok this is around the time you get to average common sense levels. But he still runs around Gotham beating people up in tights (or kevlar) so he doesn't get full points. Also he's still not Babs level common sense. One area Duke lacks common sense in is how to deal with the Batfam (which is v understandable tbh)

One time Duke was joking around with Jason and decided to steal a roll off of Damian's plate. This ended in blood.

Other than lacking Batfam common sense, most of his poor judgement moments are less notable but still concerning.

For example the time he challenged Dick to a hot dog eating contest then went on a roller coaster.

Babs:

Other than being a vigilante Babs almost has normal human common sense. However being a vigilante has negative side effects on ones common sense.

While Babs' sleep schedule isn't as bad as Tim's it's not a whole lot better. She's stayed up 72 consecutive hours multiple times.

She has accidentally poured coffee onto her computer instead of into a coffee mug.

One time she drank an entire gallon of milk before realizing it was a month expired.

Alfred:

Most assume that working for Bruce Wayne is a sign of him lacking common sense. But nah, it's him knowing, understanding, and challenging his own limits. Also it's him being a charitable human being. Like he has enough common sense to go around and tbh it's the only thing keeping the family alive.

"Master Bruce, you may not use Elmer's Glue All to close a wound."

"Master Dick I would encourage you not to teach Master Duke acrobatics on the glass coffee table."

"Miss Stephanie I would not advise trying to consume an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting, and no, I do not care if Master Jason dared you to."

Tada, there's the list! Sorry that was probably a lot longer than anyone wanted, but I enjoy talking about how ditzy the batfam is. Like they're all geniuses but at the same time they're just sooooo dumb.

[theeslytherinslut]

12 Grimmauld Place (5/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader 

Word Count: 2,909

Warnings: lil angsty

A/N: The longest chapter yet and it’s entirely in Sirius’ perspective! Hope I wasn’t too far off from his inner monologue. Also lots of spicy Tonks cause I love her. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Sirius’ POV

Feeling intrusive, I caught Tonks’ eyes as Remus and Y/N hugged each other, her sobbing into his shoulder. With a quick twitch, I signaled to her that we let them have a moment. She nodded and followed me into the living room. 

“Still haven’t gotten around to cleaning anything, have you?” she teased, gesturing to the layer of dirt and dust that seemed to cover every inch of the house. 

“Whenever you feel up to joining in...” I teased back. 

“Well, it looks like you’ll have Y/N to help you with that,” she responded, raising her eyebrows at me in a funny way. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Y/N,” she looked at me meaningfully. But not knowing what she meant, I stared blankly back. “You men--it’s a wonder you make it up in the morning by yourselves...Obviously, her flat is no longer safe. She’ll have to stay out of sight for a while too. What better place to both be safe and stay out of sight than here?” 

“Stay here?” I asked dumbly. Sure, I figured she’d stay the night, but it never occurred to me that this would be the best place for her. But now that Tonks pointed it out, it did make sense. Not like she could go back to her blown flat; besides, she was vulnerable there. Vulnerable and alone. 

“Yes, cousin. Are you alright?” she laughed at my bewildered state, but I didn’t find it so funny. It was difficult to ignore my feelings for her when I wasn’t seeing her every day. How was I supposed to manage now? 

At school, it was easier to manage. In the hallways, I’d look at anyone but her, smirking at any girl I caught looking at me, any sort of distraction. But when Moony wanted to go have a chat with her, well, I’d have to plainly look away, instead contenting myself with glaring at passing male members of her house, daring any of them to speak up or look at her. 

Remus had made his views very clear in the year of her arrival. He’d been gushing about since first year, always saying how she’d enjoy something or another. I still remember her terrified face during Sorting dissolving into a bright smile when her eyes found us seated at the Gryffindor table. Remus waved excitedly at her from his seat, the rest of us doing the same--all hoping she’d soon join us. However, upon seeing the rest of us with him, her face turned bright red, and her eyes went terrified once more. Before I could even shoot her a reassuring smile, she’d turned back to McGonagall. Unfortunately, she’d been placed in Slytherin, something we never let poor Moony forget. That night in the common rooms after everyone else had long gone to bed, he’d made us all swear to never lay a finger on her--to essentially be another three big brothers--never to look at her in any sort of way. Of course we all made the promise, but I couldn’t honor it. 

I still found myself scouring the Great Hall for her face at mealtimes, ducking around shelves in the library in between classes looking for her. I always made sure to be on my best behavior in front of Remus, but behind his back, my eyes couldn’t wait to hungrily devour his sister. Her witty remarks as some Gryffindor teased her, her filthy mouth when a fellow Slytherin made the wrong comment--and just when I thought I couldn’t fall for her any more deeply, I’d caught her hexing a Gryffindor in the corridor. The poor bloke came out a few seconds later, clutching his jaw and nose, both of which were expanding at an alarming rate. She came skipping round the next moment, smiling broadly at her achievement. It was all I could do not to kiss her right then. 

“Sirius?” Tonks asked, pulling me from my memories. 

“Sorry, yes?” I asked, trying not to appear as anxious about it all as I was. 

“What’s your problem?” she asked. Looking at her, I weighed my options. On the one hand, the only living soul who knew about how I felt about Y/N was now no longer, in fact, living. On the other, keeping it such a secret allowed me to continue in my friendship with Moony. Lovely as she was, I couldn’t have anything come between us. Not when we were the only ones left. 

“I--” I started to begin the story, but upon remembering James, I stopped. “Nothing.” 

“Sirius,” Tonks started, an offended look on her face. “I am your cousin. You tell me right now, or I’ll go get Remus, and he will.” 

“You would, wouldn’t you,” I said, a fond smile coming on my face as I looked at her. 

“I most certainly would.” she threatened. With her hands on her hips, I was suddenly reminded strongly of Mrs. Weasley, which only made my smile bigger. “Now, go on and tell me, you grinning git!”

“Alright, lower your voice. Can you keep a secret?” I asked, looking at my hands. 

“Course I can,” she indignantly responded. 

“Well, there’s a, a slight--er, problem, with Y/N staying,” I said quietly, keeping an ear out for her sniffles. 

“Problem? What problem? Not like you don’t have enough rooms. Or is it you fancy her or something?” she said, laughing. I kept quiet, and after a moment or two, realization began dawning on her face. 

“Oh, but Sirius, she’s Remus’ sister!” Tonks said, looking at me scoldingly. 

“Don’t you think I know that, Nymphadora?” I barked, angry that she responded the way I feared.

At the sound of her birth name, her hair began burning bright red, and I retreated. 

“Sorry, it’s just--I know, okay? I’m very much well aware of the fact she is Remus’ sister. Why do you think I’ve kept my distance all these years?” I said. 

“Likely cause you were in Azkaban,” she pointed out. I gave her a nasty look, and she smiled softly. “Next time, don’t use my full name.”

I rolled my eyes and began anxiously pacing the floors. This was wrong; this was all wrong. The one girl Remus said was off-limits. All he let me get away with all those years at Hogwarts. With a fresh pang of guilt, I recalled a put-out looking Remus looking at me while I talked to a tall, blonde Ravenclaw during Charms. It was only years after I learned he’d had a thing for her--but to my defense, I’d have backed off without a complaint if he’d only told me. 

“All these years?” Tonks said, liking working things out in her head. “Surely that doesn’t mean...since Hogwarts?” 

“Yes,” I admitted miserably. “Since her first year.” 

“First year?” she shouted. 

“Keep down your voice.” I hissed at her, pausing to hear Remus speaking softly to Y/N. 

“Sorry,” she winced. “But really, since first year and you’ve never said anything?” 

“Well, I couldn’t. Remus made us all swear to leave her alone--and bloody hell, was that a job. After school, it was easier, once I was able to keep my distance. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muggles say. Sorry, you know how Arthur loves his Muggles.” I laughed as she gave me a funny look. “And then--as you so astutely pointed out--I was in Azkaban. So it really hasn’t been a problem these last few years.” 

“But now she’s living in your house,” she pointed out. 

“Precisely,” I responded, running a hand over the scruff on my face. She remained quiet, looking thoughtful for a few minutes before responding. 

“Well, this is just bloody ridiculous. You’ve got to do something,” she said. 

“Do something? Do what? How could I betray Remus like that? He’s the only one left, Tonks. How am I supposed to betray him this way, especially after James, and then all the time apart, and then managing to let Peter slip through our fingers? I can’t do this to him.” I reasoned, beginning to harden my resolve. 

“Oh, you are bloody ridiculous, you know that?” she sighed, running her fingers through her now bubblegum-pink hair. 

“Excuse me?” I said, stopping my pacing to glare at her. 

“Bloody ridiculous!” she repeated, “Sirius, that was years ago. That was a feeble promise forced to be made by an older brother before his friends got horny and couldn’t think straight.” 

“What?” I said, pulling a face as I considered her words. 

“Remus made you all promise that so young so she wouldn’t become a plaything of yours, especially when the both of you turned out to be such whores.” Tonks laughed. 

“Whores? I was not a whore! And certainly not James, why after fifth year I don’t think I ever heard so much as a comment about any girl besides Lily.” I defended the both of us, vaguely aware of how I’d ridiculously brought my hands to my hips in indignation. 

“Sirius, you’re family, you know I love you--but Merlin, you were the biggest sodding slut the whole of Gryffindor has ever seen! I’d bet there isn’t a room in the castle you haven’t done something naughty in.” she laughed once more. I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn’t come up with a room fast enough--only proving her point. 

“Now, you two are not schoolchildren anymore. You are a grown man, Sirius. There’s no need to honor such a trivial and unnecessary pact.” She took a step towards me and put her hand on my cheek, dropping her voice. “Think of how much you’ve suffered, Sirius. Think of what you’ve lost; think of who you have lost. Remus has suffered the same loss. He lost James just as you did, but he also lost you. He thought you’d gone bad, thought Peter dead--James and Lily were dead. And then, years later, you return--innocent. You came back to him, and he, you. Things like that change a man. I’m sure there’s no one on this planet he trusts more with his sister than you. Don’t sacrifice your happiness for one more minute, cousin. Especially not when things look so similar to how they looked before, back when it all went wrong. Don’t waste another minute; I’m not going to either.” 

Shaken at her words, I remained quiet for a few moments. So much had changed since that night in Gryffindor tower. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the idea so much anymore. Besides, he trusted me enough to keep her safe.

My happiness...I’d never given the idea much thought, never considered it much of a possibility after being imprisoned. Never had reason to since. But now, my brain was swimming with possibilities. 

“Hang on,” I said, remembering the end of her monologue. “You aren’t going to either?”

She cursed under her breath before looking at me.

“Noticed that, did you?” she grimaced. I merely looked at her expectantly. “Alright, fine. Can you keep a secret?” 

“I mean, if I outed you, you could just out me,” I pointed out.

“True, alright. Well, it’s Remus,” she whispered, avoiding my eyes. 

“You and Remus?” I asked, frowning in thought. 

“And what about it?” she said, looking at me testily. 

“Well, nothing really. It’s just I never thought about it...are you sure?” I asked after a moment. I loved them both, but the thought had never even crossed my mind once. Surely if there was something between my cousin and my best friend, I’d have suspected something by now. 

“Of course I’m sure, you git,” she hissed at me. 

“So then why aren’t you together?” I asked. I couldn’t think of any reason they shouldn’t be if they both felt that way. Not like I had a sit down with the lot of them about not dating her. 

“Because he too is being ridiculous. Refuses to even look at me most of the time. Says I’m too young, says I deserve better than him.” 

“Better than Moony? Good luck with that one, cousin.” I laughed, shaking my head at the thought. 

“That’s what I keep saying, but he’ll hear none of it. Says I deserve better than a shabby, poor old werewolf.” she rolled her eyes. 

“Is that really what he thinks of himself as? A shabby old werewolf?” I asked, sad for my friend. If anybody deserved happiness, it was Remus. Before she could answer, we heard him calling. 

“Pads?” I suddenly heard. He entered the room alone, smiling softly at the two of us. 

“Hey, mate.” I smiled at him, opening my arms once more. Remus had always grudgingly accepted my affection, which only made me more inclined to give it knowing it bothered him. And as I knew he would, he rolled his eyes and smiled as he accepted. 

“Perhaps we should stay...” Remus said, looking to Tonks and then back to the kitchen. 

“Ooh no, you don’t. We’ve got to go, cut up sister or not. Besides, who better to take care of her than Sirius? Isn’t as if he’s got anything better to do. Perhaps she could persuade him in actually cleaning something in this wretched house.” Tonks added, gesturing to filth. I glared at her but remained silent; she was right. The house was filthy, but it was painful enough to be here, let alone restore the bloody thing.

“Suppose you’re right...” Remus said after a moment, “Take good care of her, Pads.” 

“Course I will, Moony. Always took good care of you, didn’t I?” I jeered.

“Not bloody likely! And don’t you go taking credit for that, that was all Madam Pomfrey,” he scolded, wagging his finger at me like he used to as a Prefect. “The group of you could hardly stand to sit still in the hospital wing for half an hour, let alone get me through a transformation!” As Remus told his story, Tonks looked at him with a funny look, and with an alarming pang, I realized Y/N often shot me the very same look. Did that mean she felt for me as Tonks felt for Remus? 

“That is bang out of order, mate! I worked hard at becoming an Animagi! Took years, it did. Don’t remember seeing Madam Pomfrey out trotting about with a teenage werewolf. Besides, kept your arse out of trouble!” I bantered back, smiling jovially. 

“Oh, it just as easily could’ve gotten me in trouble,” Remus shook his head at the memories.

“But it didn’t, did it?” I teased, “You know you loved it just as much as we did, Moony. Try as you might to remain all high and mighty. Ickle Prefect Moony,” I jeered, poking at him as he laughed. 

“Alright, alright. C’mon, let’s go before the two of you really start down memory lane. We’ve got to meet Dumbledore.” Tonks said, gently steering Remus towards the door. 

“Hang on, you’re going to Hogwarts?” I asked. I couldn’t help but be jealous. 

“Briefly. That wretch woman gets nosy when we’re there for more than a quick pop in.” Remus said; the disgusted look on his face told me he meant Umbridge. 

“Ah, well, say hello to Harry for me if you see him. I hear the little scamp likes roaming round nearly as much as we did.” I smiled after them. 

“That he does; I still remember catching him with that map...I don’t even know how he got ahold of it. James would’ve been so proud, out in the dark corridors taunting Snape. Like father, like son.” Remus smiled fondly at the memory before hanging his head slightly and ambling off to join Tonks. My chest hurt at the mention of James and Harry, and I was once more painfully reminded of my solitude. What I wouldn’t give to see James again...

I followed them to the door, waving goodbye as the two of them popped out of sight. I stared longingly at the spot where they’d disapparted. 

Standing in place, I gave myself a moment to gather my thoughts before returning to the kitchen. 

Tonks had made many good points, but were they just good because I was looking for any kind of reason to be with her? Did they actually make sense, or was I just looking for an out?

Remus had only made us promise once in the wee hours of the morning in the Gryffindor common room. Besides, if family was off-limits, well, that made him a right hypocrite, didn’t it? He did leave her here with me though, with the promise I’d take good care of her. That meant, to some degree, Remus trusted me with her. Would I be breaking that trust by going with my gut with Y/N? 

Good and evil continued to argue on my shoulders, but if I waited for a decision, I might be here for years. 

What’s more, was she even interested in me? I mean, sure, I’d caught her staring in school--but that was years ago; a lot had changed since then. But then there was the blush that always colored her cheeks every time I said something cheeky, the relief on her face when I’d met her in the port key room. Surely she wouldn’t let someone she detested bathe her, right? 

I resolved to simply flirt. If that went well, then she felt something too. And if she felt something too...well, let me not get ahead of myself. 

*******************************

Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh  @green-intervention​ @stopbeingcurious

[officialleehadan]

Fine Steel

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Seth! Darling, thank you so much for your support! It means the world to me!

Prompt: Thief and Hero

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“No.”

Teikan blinked when Zaiden caught his sleeve. The elf didn’t look over at him, but he also didn’t let go.

“What? He asked, a little dumb, and then noticed the purse he had lifted, mostly by habit. It was heavy with gold. Lifted from someone who could spare it, almost unintentionally. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Zaiden repeated, bemused at him. Teikan glanced around quickly and managed to spot the person he had just lifted the bag from. “You really didn’t even notice you were pickpocketing? How many others have you lifted?”

“Only this one,” Teikan said distractedly after a quick check of his own pockets and trotted to catch up with the wealthy man he had stolen from. “Sir, you dropped this!”

The man turned and his face twisted through several emotions, but settled on gratitude when he checked the purse and discovered it was still full. Teikan returned to Zaiden’s side, and ducked his head as the elf raised a brow at him.

“It’s habit,” he said defensively when it became clear that Zaiden wasn’t going to let him out of the conversation. They knew he was a thief when he met them. Maybe it was just different actually seeing it. “I’ve been a thief for a long time. I’m trying.”

“I wasn’t judging. You don’t strike me as the malicious sort.”

“I’m not. I only steal from the ones who can spare it.”

“Honorable, and while I personally don’t find it bothersome, it’s a habit that will upset Bjorn.”

The warning was offered without any hint of censure or moral displeasure. It was simply a warning, and what Teikan did with that warning was his own business.

“I’m not sure I can stop,” he admitted, although he did shove his hands into his own pockets where they wouldn’t get into so much trouble. “It’s complicated. Sometimes a lifted purse was all that kept me alive. I’ve been doing better than that for a long time but…”

“But old habits die hard,” Zaiden said, steady and understanding. He patted Teikan’s shoulder and guided him towards the weapons-market. “Come, let’s find you an off-hand blade you like. We three, we walked through hell and came out alive. We will never want for money. Bjorn is from a culture that uses very little coin, and so stealing, in his world, is a very serious offense. Like you, I had a difficult life, and so my morals and his are not always in alignment.”

“You were on the streets?” Teikan hadn’t known. Zaiden didn’t show the little traits he was used to looking for to spot one of his own. Maybe it had just been long enough that they had faded for Zaiden. “Where?”

“Not the streets exactly,” Zaiden corrected him with just a hint of a shadow in his eyes. “I was a pleasure slave for the better part of a century. Peli got me out. We shared space for a while before we met Bjorn. We were both a fair bit feral at the time, and his steadiness helped settle us both.”

“Is that when you became… you?”

“Hah, no. That took longer,” Zaiden snickered and pulled Teikan over to a particularly expensive-looking stall that boasted a selection of fine blades. They were far more than anything Teikan could even dream of affording. “Come check these. We’re looking for a matched set in a weight you’re comfortable with.”

“I can’t afford these if I’m not… working.”

“I’m paying. Apprentices don’t buy their own tools.”

Teikan was not at all sure how to take that. He had never been an apprentice of anything. Thieves sometimes took students, but he had never been one. He certainly hadn’t ever had a respectable trade to call his own. To be called an apprentice now was…

Well, frankly, it was strange.

“It took us the better part of six years to figure ourselves out, and we spent most of that trying not to get killed,” Zaiden said as he checked over the blades and proffered set to Teikan. “Try these. I, of course, was not in my best mind after having been in my situation for so long. Bjorn had just lost almost all of his family to a raid, and Perili’s school was destroyed in an accident she thought she caused. Not the soundest base for a relationship.”

“But you managed?”

“Love, as it happens, is a tenacious climbing vine. Of course, a few near-deaths, a few heartbreaks, and a good deal of yelling preceded our current happiness.”

In a way, it was reassuring to hear that the triad’s happiness took time. Teikan thought of his own lover, trapped and waiting for the chance to escape. Locked away like a princess in a tale, and not the only heir of a warlord. Lethe spent his hours pretending to be the beautiful, brainless twit even as he worked to bring his father’s reign down from within.

Maybe he actually had a chance. Zaiden certainly seemed to think so.

“Guess well see if I’m good for the distance,” he said, and took the sword Zaiden proffered to him. It was strange to hold such a fine weapon, but by Zaiden’s expression, it wasn’t what he was looking for. “Not the one?”

“Not the one,” Zaiden confirmed and set the blades aside. “Come on. There are many more booths, and many more swords to try before we go back to the inn.”

+++

Thief and Hero:

There's a Boy

Teaching Heroes (Subscriber Only!)

Fine Steel (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[stolen-pen-name23]

If you feel like it, maybe "You have to help(/save) him! Please!" referring to Anakin, for either Ahsoka about her Master or Obi-Wan about his Padawan?

Thank you for the prompt! I went with Obi-Wan and Anakin as his padawan! // from these prompts // prompts now closed

---

Obi-Wan can sense Anakin weakening with every hour that passes.

The boy is limp in his arms and Obi-Wan is constantly pushing against their young bond to make sure that it still exists — that Anakin still lives.

“You have to stay with me, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says, his voice betraying his own fears. “Come on, keep your eyes open.”

“Can’t,” Anakin murmurs.

“Yes, you can,” Obi-Wan insists. “Just open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Hurts. Don’t feel good.”

“I know, but you have to hang in there. We’re almost out of here,” Obi-Wan says, hoping he is right.

Evidently, Anakin can sense that it is only that — a hope.

“You don’t know that,” Anakin says. “You don’t even know where we are.”

The boy has him there. He can only guess which direction to go, relying heavily on the Force and hoping that his intuition is correct.

Being lost in the jungle is not the ideal situation. Being lost in the jungle with a young Padawan is an even less ideal situation. Being lost in the jungle with a young and very sick Padawan with no supplies? Well, that is just bad luck.

Very bad luck.

Their ship crashed days ago. Obi-Wan got away unscathed, but Anakin received a nasty gash on his arm — a nasty gash that is now infected. Anakin’s feverish skin burns so hot, Obi-Wan can feel it through his tunics.

Obi-Wan had been able to salvage some water and a little bit of food from the wreckage. The food ran out two days ago and the water ran out this morning. Every stream and babbling brook he passes tempts him, but he resists the urge to drink. Obi-Wan did not have any iodine to treat the water, and even though his mouth feels like it is stuffed with cotton, he knows making himself sick with unclean water will only serve to make the situation worse.

He growls in frustration. Without bacta, without water, without antibiotics, Anakin will not make it to tomorrow. Without water, Obi-Wan will not make it much longer than that.

Obi-Wan keeps moving forward and prays it is the right direction.

His prayers are answered. Or at least, he hopes they are. The forest thins slightly and his eyes land on a rudimentary palisade. Behind it, he can see the sloping arches of roofs.

Obi-Wan finds himself once again praying to the Force. This time, he prays the people living behind those walls are friendly. He conceals his lightsaber in his robe and follows the palisade until he comes across a gate with a metal latch. Tossing Anakin over his shoulder, his shaking fingers work the gate’s handle until it swings open.

The jungle has been cleared to make way for homes and buildings. They are not as advanced as anything that would be found on Coruscant, but they are not as underdeveloped as the rotting palisades or the surrounding jungle environment would have led Obi-Wan to believe.

It is evening, and presumably, a quiet one as no one appears on the gravel streets. Obi-Wan once again relies on his intuition to select a small house. He stumbles over to it and bangs on the door.

No answer.

His fist connects with the hardwood. The last shreds of Obi-Wan’s hope exist behind that door, and the thought of carrying on in search of help somewhere else after coming so far is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. He extends his hand to knock a third time when the door swings open.

“Hello?” a middle-aged man asks, confusion and caution guarding his expression. Obi-Wan can hardly blame him, but desperation has replaced decorum for the time being.

“You have to help him,” Obi-Wan pleads with the stranger. “Please. He’s sick, he’s injured and…”

Obi-Wan sways — thirst, hunger, and exhaustion seemingly catching up with him now that he has found some help.

“We have a healer in town,” the man says without questioning the mud-covered man standing at his doorstep. “Come, it seems you both need it.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says gratefully. He shifts Anakin off of his shoulder and back into his arms.

“I can take him,” the man offers.

Something protective rears its head inside of Obi-Wan. “No, I’ve got him,” he says suspiciously.

The man raises his hands in surrender. “Let me know if you change your mind. You’re not looking too good is all.”

“I’m fine. It’s him who needs help.”

“I’d say you both do. Can I ask what happened?”

“Our ship crashed and we got lost. He’s hurt and I can feel him slipping away and it’s my…”

Obi-Wan can’t finish the thought. His voice is thick with emotion from the stress of the whole debacle and the fear that Anakin very well might not make it even when they do get to the healer.

“You don’t have to talk about it. Sounds like you’ve been through quite a lot. Let’s just find that healer alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded, grateful for the kindness of strangers.

The man leads Obi-Wan to a small, but sturdy-looking building. They rush in and find the healer that was promised.

“Please help him,” Obi-Wan practically begs. “He needs help.”

“Come, young one, bring him here,” the healer responds, gesturing to a bed. “Lay him down. I’ll take a look at him.”

Obi-Wan sets Anakin down and takes a stumbling step backward. The man grips his shoulders and steadies him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, but his voice sounds like it’s underwater.

“Help him… you have to…” Obi-Wan’s knees buckle and he can vaguely feel large hands grab hold of him before he hits the floor.

His legs drag useless and limp underneath him as he is pulled across the room and laid down on a soft surface.

“Anakin…” he murmurs one last time before falling into unconsciousness.

***

When Obi-Wan wakes, he bolts up where he sits. His chest heaves up and down rapidly. To his side, Anakin lays pale and still as death.

“Anakin?” he asks, panic curling into his voice, his lungs, his very soul. “Anakin please.”

“He’s alive,” the healer from before says as she enters the room.

Obi-Wan’s fears are only partially alleviated. “Will he stay that way?”

“The infection was aggressive, but I have him on strong antibiotics. He is stable and will be fine as long as you keep him on the antibiotics, keep the wound clean and keep him hydrated.”

Obi-Wan lets out a deep breath.

“Now as for you,” the healer says accusingly. “Your blood sugar was very low. You were very dehydrated as well.”

“We were lost. We ran out of supplies,” Obi-Wan offers as defense.

“Really? The boy was not nearly as dehydrated as you were.”

Obi-Wan swallows thickly. “He needed the water more than me. He was sick. I needed him to stay alive.”

“If you died of thirst before him, neither of you would have made it.”

Obi-Wan looks down in shame. “He needs to live,” Obi-Wan says, offering the reasoning for a second time. He cannot call it an excuse because he means every word of it.

“Very well. Just be more careful with yourself next time? He needs you too, you know?.”

Obi-Wan feels a lump form in his throat. “I will.”

There is a pause and Obi-Wan starts to sense a trepidation coming from the woman.

“I know what you are,” the healer says, glancing over at a side table where Obi-Wan’s lightsaber lay. She must have found it while he was unconscious.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan questions, unsure if the people of this planet are for or against the Jedi. Obi-Wan really hopes this isn’t one of those planets that believes the Jedi practice witchcraft and ought to be burned at the stake.

“The people around here don’t really care for your kind.”

So much for that.

Obi-Wan’s chest tightens at the confirmation of his suspicions.

“We sent off one of our own to the Order years ago,” the woman explains. “She died on a mission. It was a long time ago, but this is a small community. It’s hard to forget.”

Obi-Wan wonders if it was a Jedi he knew, or if it was a Jedi who died before he was even born.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. It is all he has to offer at the moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your identity quiet.”

Relief pours into his veins. “Can I ask why?”

She gestures to Anakin. “I would hate whatever family he has left to find out he died on a mission. It’s a tragic thing.” the healer says. “Besides, it is my job to heal, no matter what you are.”

“You’re honorable.”

“I’m just a healer,” she said, brushing him off. “I have already gone to the liberty of contacting your Order. They will come for you and your apprentice tomorrow. Just don’t try to leave here before they come to pick you up. I can’t protect you once you leave these halls.”

The tightness in Obi-Wan’s chest loosens somewhat.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says, “for your kindness and for your discretion.”

“Of course. Just don’t make a habit of crash landing on my planet.”

“I’ll do my best,” Obi-Wan says with a weak smile.

The healer leaves and Obi-Wan is left alone with Anakin. He stares at the child lying still in the bed beside him and has to watch for the slight rise and fall of his chest to reassure himself that the boy is, in fact, alive.

Obi-Wan swings his legs over the side of the bed and drags his IV along with him so that he can stand beside Anakin. His legs still feel shaky and his body weakened, but he refuses to leave Anakin’s side.

Eventually, he finds a chair to drag over and sit in. He grabs Anakin’s hand and rubs his knuckles with his thumb. Anakin’s hand is still small and soft with youth. It does not yet have calluses formed from years of wielding a lightsaber as Obi-Wan’s do.

He’s still innocent.

Obi-Wan tries not to think about how close he was to losing Anakin. He doesn’t think he could have taken it — not so soon after his Master and well… it would have been an awfully cruel thing to lose two members of his lineage in the span of a few months.

A soft groan escapes the child’s lips and Obi-Wan perks up.

“Anakin?”

Anakin scrunches his face up in discomfort.

“Wait here, I’ll find the healer and then—” The little hand squeezes Obi-Wan’s tighter, stopping him in his tracks.

“Master…” Anakin murmurs. He squints and blinks a few times. Anakin’s eyes focus on him and Obi-Wan could swear he saw them light up just the slightest bit.

“Master?” Anakin asks. “Where are we? What happened? Why am I…”

“Shhh,” Obi-Wan says, slowing Anakin down before he can get himself worked up. “You’re safe now. We found our way out of the jungle. We’re going to go home soon.”

Anakin nods, but remains silent

“Talk to me, Anakin. Does it hurt? Are you in pain?”

“No… I mean… a little. Don’t feel that good.”

Guilt pools in Obi-Wan’s stomach and he takes a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Anakin. For all of this.”

“Why? You got us out,” Anakin says. “You saved us.”

Obi-Wan looks away. “I also crashed the ship. If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have… you wouldn’t have…”

His eyes sting and he blinks rapidly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin says, and he is so sure of himself Obi-Wan almost feels some of the guilt melt away. “You got us out didn’t you? And I’m going to be okay. Really.”

“You’re okay,” Obi-Wan says softly, reaffirming it to himself.

“What about you?” Anakin asks.

“What about me?”

Owlish eyes blink up at him. “Are you going to be okay?”

Obi-Wan squeezes Anakin’s hand.

“Yes, Padawan. I’m going to be okay.”