#last thing: ive been taking like three showers a day trying to cough up as much mucus as possible but that isnt working v well

[everyfandomever]

how am i not starving rn

[themadauthorshatter]

It's been a while since we last checked on Flippy, so let's see how he's doing!

We start with Cuddles this time, who's sitting upside down on a bench when Petunia and Flaky approach him, asking if he's seen Flippy anywhere.

He has not, because he thought Flippy was with Petunia.

Petunia folds her arms and asks why Flippy would be with her for about a half to a week and a half, and Cuddles shrugs; maybe they got REALLY intimate and just needed all of that time together.

Flaky squeals, because it's dirty, and Petunia tells him to get his mind out of the gutter because this is crazy serious.

Cuddles gets up and relentls and asks if they stopped by his house.

They did, and he wasn't there.

Did they check the woods?

Not there either.

The GYM?

He doesn't even BELIEVE in going to the Gym, most days; why GO to a place to workout when you have the equipment at your house or just outside in general?

Cuddles finally realizes that Flippy's MISSING missing, and gets up, joining the girls with finding their friend.

Flaky hopes that Flippy's okay, but Cuddles assures her that he's smart, he wouldn't do anything stupid like run away.

Funny he say that because Flippy IS doing something stupid, staring at a projector that's showing a bunch of war footage, like pictures that NO AVERAGE PERSON should see.

Splendid cringes as turns a small dial on an IV line and watches Flippy struggle to both handle the medicine that's being pumped into him and not flip out.

Thankfully, all that happens is that he vomits in a bucket.

Splenedid stops the medicine and hands Flippy some water, asking if he's really okay with continuing; they've been at this for a while and they're making very debatable progress.

Flippy washes his mouth out and nods. He can keep going.

Splendid hestitately changes the image to a collage of very familiar faces:

Tiger General, Sneaky, and Mouse Ka-Boom.

Flippy gasps at seeing them and asks how the hell Splendid got these pictures.

Splendid admits it was a simple internet search, because people spread information around like it's a puff puff pass, especially if said information is a tragedy and a victory. He can give Flippy a few minutes, if he needs it.

Flippy only takes a few seconds seeing the faces of his dead partners and nods.

Splendid gets the IV and medicine going again and Flippy takes a few deep breaths as what I call the "Make Me Sick" medicine(MMS for short)(if MMS is a real thing, I deeply and sincerely apologize. I know there's a name for the drug/"medicine" used for aversion therapy, but I forgot it🙏🙏🙏) runs through his system. TV perspective, his eyes dart between Mouse Ka-Boom and Sneaky and he sees old memories of the three in training, i.e. standing still while a drill sergeant yells in their faces and/or tries to make them laugh, having a meal together, goofing around before bed, and even comforting each other after getting tased and pepper sprayed as a part of training.

Flippy's eyes go 'killer instinct-y' and he fights a gag as he remembers how they all promised to meet again once they were out of the army, and how both looked at him with shock, sorrow, and betrayal because of how he accidentally killed them.

The memories change to taking on Tiger General 1v1, how he had to fend for himself, got his hands removed, and was almost strangled to death until he ultimately came out on top amd took down the rest of the enemy base.

When I say he vomits, I mean he VOMITS until there's nothing left to get out of his system and he's dry heaving.

Splendid quickly turns off the projector and gets Flippy off the IV, though the veteran tells him he can take more, he just needs a few minutes.

Splendid, however, tells him to call it a day; they've been at this for hours and he's already making phenomenal progress; of course Splendid is not going to TEST it right now because his friend just threw up all of his digestive system.

Flippy sighs and agrees, relinquishing for the day.

Splendid helps him up and asks if he's okay to walk home and Flippy states he's fine; he just wants to go shower and clean himself up after throwing up so much.

The two bid their farewells and Flippy begins a very uneasy walk home.

A bit of context: it's been a week or so since the last part and they've been doing this all day everyday since then, from dawn to dusk, and today they started around MAYBE 4 am in the morning and it is now 12 or 1 pm in the afternoon, so yeah it's time for the Flipster to go home and rest.

Back on track, Flippy's not exactly the best because he needs to get the vomit taste out of his mouth and just feels like crap, so he takes a shortcut home.

He gets there relatively fast and flops onto the couch and falls asleep, exhausted.

He dreams he's with Sneaky and Mouse Ka-Boom, all three playing a mix of Spades and Poker, Sneaky and Flippy speaking in english before translating for Mouse Ka-Boom to understand them; yes, Mouse Ka-Boom speaks french. He understands English well enough, but isn't the best at speaking it, aside from, 'Sir, yes, sir,' 'Sir, no, sir,' and a few insults he picked up from Flippy on accident; he may or may not have gotten the three in trouble because he repeated one of these insults in front of a commanding officer.

Regardless, the three are having a good time before Sneaky asks Flippy a question: How did it feel to throw that knife at him rather than the General? Did he enjoy it? Did he hate Sneaky that much he had to throw a KNIFE through his chest?

Flippy deflates and clarifies that he did not mean to miss the General; it was a heat of the moment thing and he's, admittedly, not good under stress.

Mouse Ka-Boom lowers his cards and asks if cutting him in half was another 'heat of the moment thing,' along with getting them both blown to smithereens.

They change before Flippy's eyes, both mangles and burnt, and Flippy leaves the table, backing away from them.

That is until a hand claps on his shoulder and his own voice tells him to admit that he actually did enjoy killing his friends; it's what he's been trained to do, so what better way to see the reward of all that effort?

Flippy turns and sees himself, who demands he admit it, admit that he's never going to change, that he won't let himself because not only does he like it, he also wants to go back to fighting and wants out of Splendid's Aversion therapy.

Flippy barely gets a word out because his other self tackles him to the ground and starts to choke him, calling him weak, a liar, and a coward, saying he should've died on that mission, not Sneaky or Mouse Ka-Boom.

Speaking of which, the two appear and grab both of Flippy's arms, holding him while he's practically being strangled again.

It gets worse when his other self turns into Tiger General, who laughs that he wouldn't be surprised by such an admission because it took Flippy how many tries to kill him. Might as well return the favor.

Flippy, breathless and trying to break free screams out and wakes up on the floor, though he gets up and runs to the kitchen sink, where he dry heaves and coughs up spit.

He stops after a while and sits against the cabinets, having regrets about the choice to go along with Splendid's idea.

These regrets linger as he walks outside the next day, catching a toy Cub dropeed while and Pop are on a stroll, though Cub is in a wagon.

They walk off, Pop thanking Flippy, and Flippy gets a surprise attack hug from Flaky, who's close to tears because he's been missing.

Cuddles, Giggles, and Petunia also approach, asking where the hell he disappeared to, because they've been looking all over for him.

Flippy apologizes for worrying them and straight up lies, saying he just left town for a little bit to enjoy some quiet time; and to restock on his medicine as soon as he could because he ran out.

Cuddles still lightly punches Flippy on the arm and tells him not to scare them like that again, or they'll put him on a harness or walk around with him in a wagon.

With Flaky now piggybacking him, Flippy muses that it sounds tempting, because he could see everyone getting some excerise because of it.

The group laugh it off and start toward a diner, because they all skipped breakfast and lunch on accident.

Flippy decides to join them, having NOT skipped breakfast, and they head to the diner.

On his back, Flaky asks Flippy if he's okay, because he looks pale and feels tense.

He nods, claiming he's fine, just a little sore from a workout he did while he was away.

Flaky is suspicious, but drops it. FOR NOW.

Cut to them at the diner, all talking and looking over the menu to see what they want, and a visual gag of Cuddles and Giggles having a contest of who can spin longer in their chairs(they're all sitting at the bar).

Flippy is a little uneasy because ANYTHING can trigger his instincts and he doesn't know how well this aversion procedure is going to qork because neither he nor Splendid went out and actually saw if it was working.

Petunia sees his unease and asks if he needs to step outside for a second.

He shakes his head and admits he's just trying to figure out what to eat.

Good thing he's having a hard time, too, because Petunia is not in the mood for grease.

Flaky fakes a gag or an "Eugh," and jokes, "Ew, flirting."

While Flippy laughs, Petunia DARES Flaky to repeat that, because it was her that helped the two get closer.

His laughter dies when a kitchen fire starts on accident right in front if them.

TV/anime perspective, we see the reflection of the fire in Flippy's eyes as they widen and he gasps/whimpers. We don't see his flashback, but we hear about a bomb going off and people screaming in pain. Flippy clenches a fist on the countertop, silent as the fire is put out and everyone relaxes.

While everyone talks about how crazy that just was, Flippy spontaneouly gets sick to his stomach and gags, excusing himself really quick to go to the bathroom.

The group watch and are now very confused, because usually flame triggers him, but he did not go off on them.

Cuddles, being the only boy, follows Flippy, saying that he'll try not to die in the process.

He does not die, but he does see Flippy vomiting into one of the sinks, very violently, I must say.

Cuddles asks if everything's okay, which scares the crap out of Flippy, but the ex-soldier claims he's fine; the fire just got him scared.

Cuddles doesn't really buy it, and asks another question: Has he been eating, AT ALL? Because he looks like he lost a little bit of weight and sick as hell.

While he waters away his mess, washes out, and wipes off his mouth, Flippy admits he has been, as much as he can, at least.

Cuddles still doesn't buy it, asking WHAT he's eating and when.

Flippy leans over the now clean sink and measures his options.

If he tells the truth, there's a chance his friends are not going to take it well.

If he keeps them in the dark, they will be fine, even though he'll feel even more like garbage.

Flippy turns and holds up his hands in surrender. He's been eating venison to build immunity, and because it, honestly, tastes really good.

Cuddles reels on him, asking why he'd do that when he's almost deathly allergic to the stuff.

Flippy apologizes and admits that, yes, he knows it's stupid, but he's just trying to make himself better, in case they have a cookout and someone accidentally brings venison instead of steak.

Cuddles points out that's BS because NO ONE eats venison(whatever it is)(Flippy corrects him that it's deer), but still drops it because Flippy clearly doesn't want to talk about it; guy code.

Flippy thanks him anyway and they rejoin the group, everyone keeping an eye on Flippy as he eats, Flaky especially, because, having known him the longest, she canntell he's both hiding something and isn't as good as he's pretending to be.

HMMMMMMMM????

[honeypirate]

In the end part two

Izuku Midoriya pro hero x fem pro hero reader

Okay so I wanted to write a part two because I kept thinking about it hahaha it’s shit but I wanted a happier ending. For Midoriya.

Comfort from waking up after being in a coma.

Part one here

Your eyes pop open and look up at a white tiled ceiling, you try to talk but you can’t get any words out, you start to panic, to hyperventilate as your mouth and throat recognize the presence of a tube, your hands fly to your mouth as the beeping from the machines add to your panic.

A pair of hands grab yours and hold them down gently “y/n y/n look at me please look at me” you look up and focus on a very familiar pair of emerald eyes, you squeeze his hands and he sees just how panicked you are in your eyes “y/n just try and relax Everything is okay just don’t look away from me keep your eyes on me” you nod quick and squeeze his hands again as nurses and doctors run into the room, nurses silence the beeping and a doctor comes up to you “just relax miss l/n it’s okay I just need to remove this tube” you don’t look away from Izuku as the doctor removes the tape and then slowly and gently pulls the tube from your throat. Once it’s free a nurse wipes away the spit and you take the tissues from her and cough into them, you begin to cry from how scared you were in that moment, from the overwhelming panic you felt.

Izuku wipes your tears as the doctor asks you questions. “I’m deeply sorry for you have to experience that. We didn’t expect you to wake up on your own. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks” your eyes flash back to Izuku and you can see how ragged he looks, he looks like he hasn’t slept that entire time, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing a sweatshirt that you stole from him a long time ago. He must have got it from your apartment. You wish you could hug him. He smiles at you with relief in his eyes, he knew exactly what you’re thinking, desperate to hug you as well.

After the doctors do a few quick tests they remove your IV and then leave you alone with Izuku. You watch as he stands from his chair he was at to stay out of the way and crosses the room to you, you smile gently and feel tears start to fall again. “Oh no don’t cry” he cups your cheeks and brushes away the tears “sweet girl” he says “I was so worried but I never lost hope. I knew you’d come back to me” you reach up and grab his hands, holding them in your own. “I was so scared that night” you whisper “I thought. I throught for sure I’d never see you again.” Your voice cracks “you saved me Izuku” his eyes swell with tears, as hard as he was holding them back he couldn’t any longer “I wish you didn’t have to go through that” you reach up and wipe his tears away.

Now you’re two crying people who are desperately in love with each other, both holding each other’s faces wiping away the tears. You can’t keep your feelings hidden any longer, you couldn’t when you knew how easy life could change “I love you Izuku” you whisper and his eyes widen for a second before your words really hit him, his tears flow harder as he leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, your tears mixing together, when he pulls back he takes a big breath with a smile and says “I love you y/n” he says with a laugh, you start to laugh with him “look at us” you say and he laughs a little harder along side you.

When you both calm down, stopping crying and laughing, he helps you out of bed and into the bathroom. Your muscles are stiff from not using them for so long and your legs start to shake after a few minutes. Change into some comfy clothes he had brought you a while ago, in hopes it would help you wake up somehow to know you had some of your things here. When you open the door again he’s right there, taking your arm and helping you back to the bed. He hands you your phone he kept charged and you called your parents, you ended up crying again and telling them that you want them to come over the next day since you just wanted to go home and get comfortable. “Let me speak to Midoriya” you mom says and you laugh holding out your phone to him “it’s for you” he laughs and takes it “hello mrs. l/n. Yes. Yes I will. Yes. Thank you” he hands the phone back to you, his cheeks flushed, you mouthed “what did she say?” At Izuku and he just grinned, unbeknownst to you he’s been talking to your parents every day since you were in the hospital since they live in America and can’t travel. He’s confided in your mom many times about how much he loves you and how scared he was. “I’ll tell you later” he whispers as you continue your conversation with your mom.

After you finish your call you text all your friends and you send out a few messages on your social media’s so your fans know you’re alive and you look at emails and then groan at the number. You sigh and hand your phone to Izuku “can you take this? I’m overwhelmed” he nods “of course” he slips it in his pocket and then pulls you into a hug, rubbing circles across your back as you take deep breaths, the smell of him filling your senses.

A nurse came in after a little while with a wheelchair and your discharge papers. Izuku has your other things in a bag over his shoulder and he follows you out of the hospital with the nurse.

Izuku takes you to your apartment and runs a bath for you, he helps you into the bathroom and then hesitates, “can I ..” he gestures at you and you chuckle, raising your arms above your head, knowing he just wants to take care of you.

He helps you out of your shirt and your bottoms, taking your hand as you step into the hot bubble bath “this is perfect Izuku thank you so much” his face is red from seeing you naked but he feels good that you trust him and love him. He wants to help you feel loved and cared for. He kneels behind the bathtub and wets your hair, gently massaging in the shampoo and conditioner, tears were softly falling down your cheeks as you experienced this moment with him. You felt so loved and taken care of.

You washed your front and he took the wash cloth from you to wash your back, his cheeks getting even redder. He helps you out of the tub and wraps a towel around you, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a hug not caring about the water on your skin and hair. “I’m going to lay out some clothing for you” he says and you nod against his chest. As he disappears you brush your teeth and run a separate towel through your hair. before your legs and arms begin to shake. “Zuku” you say before you find yourself falling to the ground. 

“I’m here sweetheart” he says and catches you, easily sweeping you up into his arms as he carries you out to the bedroom “sorry I took so long” you shake your head, a frown on your lips as tears spring to your eyes yet again “no. Don’t be sorry. You have been,,, so good to me, I can’t ever thank you enough” he sets you gently on the bed and crouches down to look at you closely, a small smile on his lips “I would do anything for you, for nothing at all. I’ve been so lucky for you to give me your heart, to trust me to take care of you. I love you. I will always take care you.”

 you don’t realize you’re crying again until he’s wiping your tears away “come on, lets get you dressed and then I’m going to carry you to the couch where we can watch movies and order take out” you smile and nod “good girl” he stands and grabs the clothes he has laying out, helping you put on your shirt before slipping your underwear up your legs, helping you stand and keeping you steady as you pull them all the way up. he places your hands on his shoulders as he helps put your sweats on you before sweeping you up again. you chuckle softly and he smiles, the sound making him feel the first real happiness he’s felt in weeks. oh how he’s missed your laugh. 

After a good meal you’re feeling more like yourself, you sit on the couch with your feet up on Izuku as he tells you thinks you’ve missed. Like how a new hero is interning with his agency and how Bakugou finally confessed his feelings for Ochako. you could hardly believe you missed so much. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve been coming here to shower, I just wanted to feel closer to you” he’s shy and look at his hands, blush dusting his cheeks. You turn your body to move closer to him, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards yours, you kiss his nose “I don’t mind. My home has always felt better with you in it” his face blushes deeper and he kisses your lips softly. “I’m so happy, so relived you’re here” you smile “I’m here to stay” you say and he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tight.

“I can’t wait to get stronger and come back to work” you say cuddling into him “I’m glad you still want to be a hero but I would understand if you had a change of heart” he runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back to look at him “thank you for saying that” you caress his cheek and he blushes “but i’m a hero, I have to get my strength back so I can fight along side of you and protect people.” he places his hand over yours “that’s the girl I fell in love with” he places his forehead against yours and you close your eyes “let’s go see Recovery Girl in the morning. she might be able to take care of the damage done to your muscles and then I can help you start training as soon as you want” you chuckle and reach up to place your hands on his neck “that’s a good idea. will you stay here with me tonight?” you rub your thumbs softly against his skin “I was hoping you would ask me that” he whispers and before he can say anything else you close the last few inches between you both and press your lips into his

he sighs and cups your face gently, smiling into the kiss, when you break away his eyes are filled with a mix of love and bliss, “i love you” you whisper and he blushes “I love you” he says back to you and your heart fills with electricity, you’ve been dying to tell him that for months, it feels amazing to finally have it out in the open and reciprocated. you just wish it was under a better circumstance. 

You watch a move while cuddling, his hand in yours and your head against his chest, when it ends you’re already falling asleep against him. he chuckles as he turns off the tv, picking you up easily “I cant believe im falling asleep. You would think i got enough of it the last three weeks” you say as he carries you to bed. he tucks you in and turns to leave but  you pop up, fully awake and grab his hand “don't leave!” you shout and then blush, embarrassed at your outburst, you drop his hand and look down at your hands in your lap “I’m sorry” you whisper and he reaches out, tilting your chin up to look at him “don’t worry” he leans down and kisses your forehead “I’m going to shower and then i’ll come right back here to you” you blush deeper, feeling a little worse for your outburst. “okay” you whisper and he leans down, kissing your forehead before re-tucking you in “I couldn’t leave you and I don’t want to. Don’t worry my sweetheart”

when he gets back after his quick shower you’re still in the same position, he thought you were asleep until he slid in next to you and you pulled him to you, cuddling in to his chest “finally” you whisper and his heart flutters, you were waiting for him. “you make me feel safe” you whisper “I’ll always keep you safe, no matter what” he says and you kiss his shirtless chest “always my hero” you say before finally feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep. 

[gaycrouton]

A Long-Standing Curiosity

This is a part of my "Countdown" Series, where I play with the "X" times Mulder and Scully "X" trope. 10-2 will be UST-y with the final one being their first time.

This one is Five times Scully was reminded of Mulder’s impressive size. NSFW

I - A Hint (S1)

Whenever Mulder dragged her over to the Gunmen's, she felt a wicked sense of dejavu from her years of being a tagalong little sister. When her parents were out and Missy was busy, Bill was saddled with the duty of watching her. He'd hang out with his friends, usually riding bikes around the neighborhood while she exerted herself trying to keep up, her equilibrium tilting back and forth from training wheel to training wheel scraping against the pavement.

She was the outsider, but she wanted to be included.

"Some spies are said to keep asps in their pockets in preparation for a quick suicide," Frohike proclaimed. For what reason, she didn't know.

"I heard that too," Langly agreed. "That when they feel they've been compromised, they just aggravate the asp into biting them and releasing their venom."

"Like the historical myth about Cleopatra," she added, wanting to contribute since she hadn't been able to chime in during the last several conversations.

The three unfamiliar men looked over at her with a quizzical look. Much like in the summer days spent with Bill's friend, she'd distanced herself more in an attempt to bridge the gap. She squirmed in her seat under their attention, but she didn't lower her eyes, meeting them each with a raised eyebrow that said "What? I'm right."

"Myth?" Mulder asked, drawing her attention to the corner of the room where he was lounging comfortably. Whereas Bill would look over his shoulder, just to make sure she was still there before taking off even faster, Mulder kept a steady gaze on her, unwilling to let her fall behind. "It's a fact she killed herself with an asp," he challenged.

The Gunmen's heads went back and forth with each volley of this proverbial match. "No, it's not. Despite the paintings of Reginald Arthur and Michel Corneille or the writing of Shakespeare making millions believe she held an asp to her breast after the death of Antony, historians have proven that it was either the stab of a sharp implement like a hairpin or a toxic ointment that caused her death."

"I'd never heard that before, that's really interesting," Byers remarked, offering her a sincere smile.

Mulder was nodding at her with what appeared to be pride as she explained this. "That does make a lot more sense than someone just having a snake in their pants at the ready," Mulder teased, turning his attention over to the more eccentric two of the trio.

"Why? You do it all the time," Frohike joked, causing Langly to cackle.

"Except he's packing a python instead of an asp," Langly added, smiling wider as Mulder grew redder.

And just like all those years ago, the group of boys defaulted to dick jokes. Except Mulder wasn't her brother, and she was a woman now. Hearing them talk so openly about a topic she'd mentally sanctioned as taboo made her eyes widen and her curiosity flare.

"How many women you bite with that thing, Mulder?" Frohike, teased.

Scully observed as Mulder's previous position of comfort became tense as his eyes flickered over to see how she was reacting to the crude locker room talk. The ease with which the comments rolled off his friends' tongues made her think that this wasn't unusual talk for them nor that it was unfounded. The only thing that seemed out of place was Mulder's embarrassment.

"Guys, come on," he chastised, glaring at them while motioning his head towards her.

Frohike looked at her and coughed away his chuckling. "Sorry, Agent Scully."

She waved her hand in front of her face in dismissal. "It doesn't bother me."

But a nagging curiosity in the back of her mind now was.

II - A Glimpse (S2)

Scully didn't even realize it until afterwards. A flash of a bulge in her memory coming unexpected like an after shock in an earthquake.

She was standing at her kitchen counter, sipping from a glass of water with a shaky hand while Mulder's weapon sat next to the sink. Her body was exhausted from the effort of removing Mulder's clothes without any help from the double-her-size man. She'd stumbled back into her bookshelf when his pants finally came free and she'd been too worried about waking him to realize what she'd just uncovered, but now that she was calming down, she could recollect it perfectly.

An elongated bulge in his briefs, resting innocently on his upper thigh.

Elongated.

She hadn't really seen anything. Not in the flesh at least.

But in the morning when she checked on him, after he'd shucked the comforter off in his sleep, she was greeted with the same visual she knew she should be politely ignoring: Mulder's impressive, albeit flaccid, penis.

She stood next to him in the silence of her bedroom and looked down at it - a one woman gallery to an amazing show. Was he a shower or a grower?

Despite the fact that question was running through her mind, many were presently answered. He was big, showing or growing be damned, and he wasn't a Jewish stereotype.

III - A Brush (S4)

"Well, you could lock the door to the office," Mulder offered, accidentally brushing against Scully's back before leaning away from her.

"Folks know I never lock the door," Sheriff Taylor responded in an uncompromising tone. Adding, "They'd start rumors," as an afterthought.

She'd been reaching for the gloves, preparing to slide them over her hands, when he shut the bathroom door. As he did this, Mulder took a few shuffling steps closer to her so he could make himself fit in the tiny room. It probably was no larger than her wingspan, but half of the area was taken by either the sink or the toilet, making it so they had no room to shuffle. She could feel his knees and chest against her, so she could tell he was trying to lean his hips back to avoid pressing against her.

However, as she snapped the latex gloves on, he tried to readjust his footing and something ended up brushing against her ass. A significant something.

Her eyes froze on the blue lip of the faux-autopsy-table lunch tray laying in front of her as her brain quickly caught up to what her body instinctively recognized. Scully turned her head, too surprised at what she was feeling to acknowledge how close his face was.

Mulder was obviously aware of what caused her look and he smoothly deadpanned, "Oh, that was my penlight," acting as if their bodies touching so intimately was just a run of the mill occurrence.

"Oh," she murmured, turning back to the tray. "I thought a longstanding curiosity had just been satisfied," she replied, with feigned despondency before intaking a breath and widening her eyes.

"What an awfully big and warm penlight you have," was the response she wished she could have said.

Mulder moaned in appreciation low next to her ear and it sent shivers down her spine. The feeling of him pressed against her on top of his warm breath tickling her ear began to feel overwhelming, so she pulled back the sheet to kill the mood instantly.

IV - A Tease (S6)

A four hour stakeout? No problem. Six? Manageable. Ten? They were going insane.

It was one thing when they were on the X-Files. A stakeout then usually didn't last too long. But now under Kersh's orders, they were stuck with grunt work that was redundant and usually fruitless.

During the first time they'd endured this, Mulder had come up with some hairbrained twist on a children's game so they could pass the time. After a few rounds, it became perfectly clear that the game was just them asking questions back and forth, and they decided to just do that unabashedly. "You're my friend, Scully. I just want to know more about you. Why hide behind a game?" he smirked, bumping her leg with his.

After he'd said it, she was reminded of a night only a couple of years ago where Eddie Van Bluhndt had given her a similar sentiment. Mulder had just gone on and on about a potential X-File for hours before that, so she had no doubts that this was her Mulder in the flesh, but that made it a little more intimidating than it was back then. She knew he'd always harbored some anger towards what had happened with Eddie, not at her but at himself, and she had an inkling that this was an attempt at him doing what she'd inadvertently demonstrated she wanted.

It was initially awkward for them both, but at the end of the day - they truly did just want to learn more about each other.

However, this was now their third stakeout and they'd exhausted awkward high school stories and menial facts about themselves. She supposed it was that, plus the hours of boredom under their belts that led him down this line of questioning.

"What's your bra size?" he asked, shifting in the driver's seat while trying to find a good position.

His last question had been "When did you get your first fish?" so the abrupt topic change made her start in her seat.

Scully turned to him, and didn't see any traces of humor on his face. It was like he'd just asked what her shoe size was. "My bra size?" she repeated.

There it was. A little smile on his lips as the sides of his eyes crinkled with mirth. He turned to her, his smile widening when he didn't see any angry indignation on her face, and he replied, "Yeah."

If he was going to blame their exhaustion for his boldness, so could she. "Guess."

Without even looking he replied, "34B."

Her mouth dropped as she turned to him. "Cheater!"

He laughed and held up his hands. "How?" he asked in shocked amusement.

"How did you know, you didn't even look?" She knew it was stupid as soon as the statement left her mouth. Him not looking now was his way of subtly telling her he'd looked enough in the past to have it committed to memory.

He lowered his head ever so slightly closer to her and murmured, "I thought that would have been improper of me." Her eyes fluttered to the stubble coming through across his jaw and she was brought back by the shrug of his shoulders. "But, if you insist," he declared dramatically before letting his gaze fall to her chest.

She elbowed him playfully and chuckled as he mockingly rubbed his arm. "Ow, ow, okay. Your turn."

Feeling emboldened by his question, she decided she wanted to satisfy a curiosity of her own once and for all. "How big are you?"

"Six foot even," he replied innocently. He knew damn well what she meant and his cocky grin told her that he just wanted to hear her say it.

"No. How big is your…" she stumbled over word choice. Cock was vulgar, dick sounded childish, penis sounded clinical - what effect did she want to go for? "...cock," she settled on defiantly. The last word was slightly softer than the rest and she felt the friction of every consonant in the back of her throat as her mouth opened around the vowel. She'd never realized how, if said right, the word was like an oral invitation for the namesake.

His nostrils flared in response to her bold choice and a devilish gleam twinkled in his eye. She knew what he was going to do as soon as the smile erupted across his face. "Guess."

She swallowed thickly and turned her attention to the streetlamps littering the street, wanting to appear as indifferent as he had. "Well, from the glimpses I've seen over the years-" she started with a lilt.

"Glimpses?" he asked in surprise.

She turned to him with a coquettish smile and explained, "Mulder, I'm your doctor, and you're reckless. I've seen it all."

It was too dark to see fully, but if she could trust her eyes, he was blushing. "What's your verdict, Doc?"

"Six inches," she stated firmly.

He nodded amusedly and she was just about ready to gloat when he murmured, "Half right."

"Half right?" she replied quizzically.

He turned to her and smoothly told her, "You're assuming I'm a shower."

Bigger than six inches.

"Okay, okay," she mused. "Five inches flaccid, seven inches erect."

"Good guess," he smirked.

"But you said-"

He shifted in his seat and her attention was inadvertently drawn to the ever present mound in his lap. "Six inches flaccid, eight and a half erect," he replied.

She sat there stunned for a moment and was flustered when he waved his hand in front of her face and sang, "Earth to Scully."

"I don't believe you," she laughed breathlessly.

"Even about this?" he chuckled.

"Mulder, the average is five inches. Anything above eight is so rare," she explained, trying not to think about what he could do to her with that thing.

"Wanna see it?" he teased, undoing his belt.

Mulder was just joking. She knew that. But her gaze fell into his lap anyway, eagerly committing the image of his fingers deftly undoing his belt to memory. She couldn't find her voice to stop him, so she just sat there watching him.

When the anticipated words of 'Mulder' or 'stop' didn't happen, his hands faltered and he paused, watching her until she met his gaze while he held part of his undone belt in both hands. His eyes were curious, but there was a tint of something else. Something she only saw when she dreamed of him. "Scully?" his voice came out as a whisper.

A loud banging sound reverberated through the empty streets as a woman started screaming at the top of her lungs. "Shit," Scully swore, hopping out of the car as she ran towards the suspect fleeing the scene.

V - A Curiosity Satisfied (S7)

After coming to Los Angeles spur of the moment, following an unseen fear monster around for the entire night, watching multiple people die, and having to deal with infuriating pests following their every move with cameras - they were exhausted.

She'd been asleep in the car the entire time it took him to drive back to their shitty motel, and when he woke her up, it was only so she could reassure him they did everything they could and all but collapse face first into her mattress. The only thing she could physically muster up the energy to do was take off her shoes and coat.

However, her sleep was interrupted by Mulder's staggered breathing from the other room, more audible to her because their adjoining rooms were still open. It was common for Mulder to have nightmares, but there had been a definite spike because of the stress from the last few weeks.

It had become a bit of an unspoken pact as of late between them that if one of them was having a nightmare, the other would just sleep next to them. It was simple and innocent, just carnal comfort of having another person near.

Scully sniffed lightly as she pulled herself off the mattress, trying to shake her exhaustion away for long enough to get to him. She grabbed the warm pillow she'd been resting on and hugged it against her chest as she shuffled across the floor to the adjoining doorway.

Along with the staggered breathing, she could hear him grunting lightly. Her eyes were barely open, but her lip tugged downward in empathy. He'd just worked so hard and he can't even find solace in his dreams.

She made it to the doorway when her eyes registered more flesh than what she'd anticipated. Blinking the sight in front of her into view, she had to bite down on her lip to suppress a gasp.

Mulder was lying on his back, his boxers shoved around his knees, and he was pumping a massive erection with a vigorous fist.

Two. Two fists.

The sight alone was like a shot of adrenaline to her system and she felt a coiling in her gut. When he wasn't fucking his hands, he was using one to rub his precum over his head while the other fondled his balls. Mulder's face was contorted in pleasure, sweaty and flush, as his hips lifted off the bed.

Her feet felt like lead on the floor and she didn't know what to do. Go to him? Run away? Watch?

Mulder's breath continued to hitch as he continued his thrusts, but he was becoming erratic and she realized she was stumbling in at the tail end of it. She wasn't sure how long she'd just been asleep for, but Mulder had worked himself into a frenzy and he wasn't going to be able to hold it in for much longer.

She knew she should leave, but she didn't want to. She wanted to see Mulder in his most primal form. His eyes opened for a moment and she felt excitement run though her body like a shiver. Not fear. Not worry. She was excited at the idea of him knowing she was watching him.

But when his eyes opened, it was just to rip off the shirt he's been wearing and throw it to the floor, rolling over to grab a box of kleenex and setting it next to him on the bed before continuing.

His eyes fluttered shut as he resumed his frantic pace, his arms working so hard she could see the muscles in his biceps flexing. He looked so long and lean like this, wearing nothing but tangled boxers and arousal.

Mulder's mouth dropped open and she knew he was coming undone. His back arched off the bed as he ground himself into his hands, spurting thick lines of come all over his abdomen. Her groin felt heavy and swollen from her own arousal and the sight made her want to go over to him and beg him to finish her off. She was hugging the pillow she'd brought so tightly to her chest that she could feel her own heartbeat through it.

Mulder's breathing slowly started to return to normal as he grabbed some tissues and started cleaning himself up. It took a few wipes, but once he was done, he lifted his hips and gently eased his boxers over his hips.

Not wanting to be caught, as quietly as she could, she tiptoed back into her room and into her own bed. Now it was her turn for her breathing to turn erratic. Scully could hear Mulder's sheets shifting around, presumably from him trying to get comfortable.

Deciding that it was unlikely he'd get up and mimic what she just did, she let her hand slide down her abdomen and under the elastic of her underwear as she thought about the best eight and a half inches she'd ever seen.

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

Other finished “Countdown” parts

10 times Mulder and Scully were as intimate as a couple

6 times Mulder saw Scully in her underwear

4 times they got a little too close

[peachywise]

nullify

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader 

- part 6: the beginning of understandings || part i ⋆ part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part v ⋆ more to be released 

- synopsis: It was finally time to meet the bringer of the apocalypse– a petite girl wrapped up in a blanket drinking tea. Totally chill. Nothing unusual about the situation at all. At least Klaus was consistent with his irritating commentary.

- note: my bad sorry i haven’t updated in so long!! but i’m back! and since season 2 is now out, please just note that this story is my own continuation of the story after season 1. also, i am no longer doing a tag list. honestly i just can’t be bothered, and i’m sure most of the blogs have changed since the last one for this series. i post on ao3, so you can subscribe to the story there!! 

link on ao3 

_______________________________________

Okay. So you were going to face the person who allegedly caused the apocalypse. No big deal. This was just a normal day, and she was just a girl. Albeit one who had undergone pretty severe trauma in her life, but hey. Nothing you couldn’t handle with a pleasant smile and a cup of tea, right?

Maybe the tea was a bad idea. But you felt like you needed a peace offering. Something to break the ice before asking someone who was relatively a complete stranger, “I think I can contain your powers, so why don’t we try? Also, why don’t you move into my apartment for the time being? I promise the occasional cockroach that comes out the drain won’t do any harm. It would be nice if he paid rent, but I can’t complain.”

Yeah. Just a normal day.

An abrupt tap on your shoulder and Klaus’s breath tickling the side of your neck forced your eyes away from your previous stare down with the white bedroom door, and any and all courage you’d built up to walk in quickly dissipated.

“Hey, you think if this whole—” his voice caught on a sharp intake of breath as he tried to find his words, his hands rolling, “trying to convince my sister to not start the second apocalypse by moving in with you thing doesn’t work out, I can still crash there? You can’t begin to imagine just how stifling it is here. I don’t even think Five has changed out of his little uniform in a week, let alone had a shower. You smell so much better. Like vanilla with a bit of stale coffee and deep-seated cynicism.”

Turning your face fully towards his, your noses almost touching by how close he had leaned in, you kept your expression passive. And then you tipped your hand to let half of the scalding tea fall over the lip of the cup and on his bare feet.

As Klaus jumped back, hopping between his feet and hollering a string of “ow, ow, ow,” you took a small step back and replied with a drab and mocking, “that has to hurt.”

Klaus gave a curt laugh that was almost lost, given his teeth were clenched in pain. “You know, I don’t know if I like your violent style of foreplay.”

“You’re making it very clear why Vanya destroyed the world in the first place, Klaus,” you responded, voice raised. “You haven’t even experienced just how sadistic I can be. I can turn around right now and just let her cause the second apocalypse again.”

“How original of you, threatening to leave. What is it, the tenth time already? Maybe if we’re all lucky, you can get a couple more in before dinner!”

“You know what’s original? Your desperate need for attention because you never got any from daddy as a kid. I’ve never seen that before-“

The door opened in front of you, and someone’s soft cough had you and Klaus both turning in their direction.

Allison Hargreeves.

“Are you guys done?” She questioned, a tight impatient look crossed on her features. At a loss for words, partly embarrassed now that you’d raised your voice, you tried to find anywhere to look but her eyes. Your gaze ultimately got caught on her neck, and the healed, puffy scar raised on her skin. Right. They’d mentioned Vanya had injured Allison. Pretty horribly at that. You remembered what you were nervous about in the first place.

“Allison, this is Y/N, though they will reply to trouble or travel-sized Satan just as well,” Klaus offered, slipping past his sister, who stood fully in the frame of the doorway.

Reaching behind to scratch your neck, you forced a timid smile on your face and gave a small wave with your free hand. “Hey. Nice, uh… place you got here.” Totally casual. “Very clean.” Not awkward at all.

Allison snorted. “Uh-huh. Nice to meet you. Let’s see if this was all worth it, shall we?”

Straight to the point. You could respect that. Nodding, you kept the nervous smile on your face as you walked past her after she sidestepped away from the door. You didn’t really know what you were expecting. Part of you thought the room was going to be some weird pit of despair. Dark and broody, like it was supposed to set the scene for some comic book character about to delve into their villain origin story.

But nope. It was just a standard bedroom, very well lit, white linen, clean carpet. The only thing that really stood out was the sunny yellow blanket wrapped tightly around a petite frame huddled on the single bed, a sky blue polka dot teacup clutched in both of her hands.

Well, now you didn’t feel so bad that you’d poured out basically all the tea you were going to give Vanya on Klaus.

“I’m guessing you’re Vanya?”

No shit, she was Vanya. You literally knew what she looked like.

You shuffled your feet awkwardly as the girl’s eyes flickered up to you. You still had the teacup in your hand.

“I brought you this, but I… spilled a little,” you commented off-handily, moving over to set it on a small side table.

Klaus made a notably shocked look. “Is that what you call a little?”

Vanya nodded her head once, her tone quietly gruff as she added, “we could hear you through the door.”

Allison offered a very helpful, “I’m sure the whole apartment floor heard them.”

Klaus, unable to contain himself from continuing this rally of comments, added, “well, it’s not the only time my screams have woken up someone next door. Certainly won’t be the last, God hoping the world doesn’t explode again.”

All three of you groaned. Good to know you weren’t the only one exhausted.

“It’s nice to meet you, Vanya. Did they explain to you why I’m here?” You asked, moving closer to the girl in question.

Vanya’s eyes glanced quickly over to Allison, who nodded her head in encouragement. She then turned to look at you once more and gave a slight jerk of her head in affirmation. Despite what had happened between Vanya and Allison, you could see the trust between the sisters. You might have gotten the story of what happened three months prior, but obviously they had worked out some stuff. At least a little bit. “Yeah. Yeah, Five uhm, gave me the gist of it,” Vanya replied, her voice still quiet with an edge of hesitance.

“It really works,” Klaus stated, looking at you with a joyful look. “Not seeing Ben’s ugly mug for once…” he pressed his hands to his heart and contentedly sighed, “it was the biggest blessing one could have given me.” His serene mood quickly dissipated as he looked to an empty corner and bit out a tight, “zip it, ghoul boy.”

“I don’t know,” Vanya carried on, as Klaus and presumably Ben continued to have an argument in the back. “Our powers are different. I don’t know if I want to take the risk of using it again in case it doesn’t work.”

You sighed, and Allison brought her hand up to nervously to chew on a nail. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you tried your best to settle the situation. Yeah, the money you would get for this would be nice, but you could tell this all went beyond that. It was important. You knew they wouldn’t have just let you into their inner circle if it wasn’t.

“I get it. What happened was awful, but you aren’t in that place anymore, right? Panic makes you do stupid shit. You aren’t you when you’re in such a crisis. That doesn’t mean you don’t take accountability for those actions, but the you sitting here isn’t actively trying to blow up the moon and cause the end of the world.” Peering over to Klaus, who stood grumpily off to the side, you asked, “it was the moon, right?”

His attention quickly fixed on you as he replied back, “oh yeah,” making a sudden explosion movement with his hands and horrible sound effects to go with it.

Allison’s blunt, “Klaus,” was enough to quickly shut him up.

“But I could panic again,” Vanya pleaded, her hazel eyes cutting in their pain. As stable and as comfortable as she appeared now, you could recognize that constant fear that must have lived in her. You knew too much about regret. You could see that in her eyes.

“And that’s where I come in. I can stop that. But we have to try first to see if it can work.” Reaching out a hesitant hand, you placed it on her knee still covered with the blanket and offered, “this power is inside you whether you like it or not. I don’t have perfect control over mine. I wish there were things I had done differently.” People you could have saved. People who you accidentally hurt. “You tried suppressing it, but that only made it explosive once it was actually let out. We can try to make it so you can live with it. Even if you don’t use it, at least you can control it.”

Vanya bit her lip and drooped her head, her hair falling in curtains around her face. You were curious about what her thoughts were. The furrow between her brows tensed and untensed in a way you knew her answer to the proposition was continually changing.

“Vanya, I’ve gone the self-destructive route to try and drown the voices out,” Klaus chirped up in the silence, his compassionate tone odd to your ears. From the corner, he strolled past you and rested a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “But I’ve never experienced quiet so fully until they put their field around me.” Soft eyes met yours as he added, “I never thought it was possible. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Holding his look for a moment, you weren’t quite sure what to say. You’d never really been… praised for your gift. Whenever you tried to use it to help someone else, you’d get called a freak or something worse. Any other time, it accidentally (well, purposefully sometimes) harmed someone. You could tell Klaus was sincere. Listening to the voices of the dead so much must be harrowing. You never really gave much thought about spirits and their presence, but for all you know, there could be multiple in the room with him at any moment. Always in pain. Always sharing that with him.

All you could manage to offer in response was a gentle smile before you tipped your head back to look at Vanya. “You don’t know me. I can’t ask you to trust me to do this. But why don’t you stay with me for a bit anyway? Klaus will be there, and you can come and go as you want, the others too. I’ll show you a couple of things I can do with the force field, and when you’re ready to test it out, we will. This is in your hands, Vanya. You’re in control.”

That’s all people like us could ever want. Control. Certainty—

Understanding.

“I already called sharing the bed with Trouble, just so you know,” Klaus said.

Although, it seemed your understanding clearly had its limits.

“If you did that, I would have to burn my bed so I didn’t get fleas. How about I get you a nice doggy bed instead?”

That got a grin out of Vanya, and when Allison added, “I think a flea repellent collar would be a wise investment as well,” her smile grew a little more comfortable.

“very funny, really, ” Klaus muttered.

“Okay. I’ll come with you,” Vanya finally conceded, reaching over to set her cup on the nightstand. “I’m— I don’t think I’m ready to try it out yet, but I guess if I do lose control again, having you there will be a good safety net?”

“We’ll all be your safety net this time.” Allison’s tone was earnest, remorse and care wrapped up on one. “I promise.” She sat on the bed and Vanya gently rested her head on her shoulder.

Whatever had gone on with this family, whatever tragedy had occurred in the past or with the current ordeal, seemed to be mending. You were kind of in awe staring at the scene. You had never known this kind of support since your father, and even then, you were so young that your memories of those feelings of comfort had faded. You lived alone. Didn’t really have any lasting friendships. You had the old couple across the hall who you played cards with at least once a week— though you were pretty sure they cheated every single time— but that wasn’t even close to what the Hargreeves had.

Family.

Standing back up, you heaved in a heavy breath. “I’ll leave you to pack,” you offered with your best shot at a cheery smile despite the sudden growing muck (jealousy, sadness, regret) festering through your veins. “Would you mind if I use the bathroom?”

Allison started to talk, offering you directions before Klaus interjected, “I’ll show you where it is.”

You were going to argue that you were perfectly capable of managing directions in the single apartment, but he placed his hand on your back and was quickly ushering you out of the door and down the rest of the hall.

“You really okay with doing this?” His questioned jarred you, eyes widening as you stepped away from his touch.

“Klaus, are you kidding?” You shot back, your exhaustion entrapping your exasperation in one low, breathy air. “I didn’t see you caring about that when I had originally said no multiple times.”

“You didn’t have that,” he stalled, struggling to come up with words as he haphazardly waved his hands in front of your face, “that look before. You looked sad when Vanya said she would come.”

Ah. You thought you’d shielded your face away from what you had felt. Strange that he would pick up on it. “It’s fine, Klaus. I want to help.”

Klaus didn’t look so sure, but he was also resigned enough to accept that answer. It was the truth anyway. It was a brief second of allowing yourself to feel bad. We all had those. A desire for something else someone has, for love, for care. But maybe this situation would help. Helping someone else, someone relatively similar to you, given the fucked up freak birth that messed up all their lives, would give you a sense of purpose.

“Can I ask you something, though?” You said, biting the inside of your cheek in a sort of nervous gesture.

“Yeah, sure,” Klaus prompted, curiosity lowing his eyebrows as he slightly tilted his head.

“Did you mean what you said in there? Did my blocking your power really help you that much?” You just needed to know. He looked so earnest, almost… desperate to experience it again. You felt seized by a sudden warmth. You just wanted to experience that again, whatever that was. To feel like you had done right.

“Trouble, you have no idea how much that helped. I meant what I said,” his tone turned almost affectionate, his eyes almost pleading with you to believe, “It really is all I ever wanted.”

And suddenly, the warmth that you hoped would have a growing familiarity in your body came back. However, there was something else there, nagging at the back of your consciousness, that you couldn’t quite grasp. It almost felt like concern or empathy, but there was something more. Despite Klaus’s kind words, there was an undercurrent of sadness to them. The man in front of you, who sometimes seemed so much younger and fragile than what he was, had been through hurt. You could recognize it. You had the moment you had met him and all the Hargreeves. But you were finally beginning to fully comprehend what his particular sadness was.

“It’s horrible to have been forced with a burden that could probably do so much good, but we just haven’t been able to see it.” You murmured, speaking your thoughts out loud without really meaning to. “All of you guys were forced to do good with your powers. Be the good guys, get the bad ones. That in itself was another burden just on top of it. You were kids. You never got to experience normal lives and have your powers adjusted to fit normalcy. I guess I’m lucky in that regard.”

You didn’t really know what you were saying. Just looking at Klaus’s face and the emotions you couldn’t read had you spewing words so freely that surely he must have thought you to be the erratic one now and not him.

“Sorry,” you laughed lightly, trying to break the tension. “I guess I’m just trying to say, if my power can do good by helping you guys out, then I’m happy. Whenever things get too noisy, just let me know and I’ll try and drown it out for you. Maybe just… living for a while, not stressing about your next plans, will help too.” You could try to provide some sort of normalcy in your shitty little apartment, with shitty cable, and an even shittier view.

“I’ll do that,” Klaus’s voice was so quiet you barely caught what he had said. “Thank you.”

Averting your gaze to the floor, you rubbed the tip of your nose with the back of your hand and stood in silence for a few moments.

“So uhm. Where’s that bathroom?”

“Oh, shit! Ah, yeah, just down the hall and to the right off the kitchen,” Klaus laughed, tension easing.

“What, not going to lead to it?” You teased.

“No, I think you can manage pretty well,” he smirked, before walking off into one of the adjacent rooms, probably to go pack.

What a shame. You’d probably have to burn all his clothes before they touched your carpets, now that you thought about it. You know, because of the fleas and all that.

[xteenwolfwritingsx]

You Know Better - Part 36 - Recover

-gif source unkown-

Story Description: Peter and the reader develop a slow relationship.

Part Description: You wake up in the hospital.

Warnings/Labels: Medical mumbo jumbo. Tooth-decaying sweetness.  

Approx. Word Count:  

A/N: Final part before the epilogue (which I plan to have out this month!!) Again, not a medical professional. I know nothing of medical mumbo-jumbo and the only “research” I’ve done is watch House and Grey’s Anatomy. So bear with me.

Story Masterpost

Everything is hazy and bright when your eyes blink open. You’re staring at very bright, white lights covering an entire ceiling and laying on a firm, unforgiving mattress. The sheets are scratchy. Your throat is dry and there’s something shoved inside of it. You cough, trying to get it out, but it doesn’t work.

You start to panic, unable to breathe with this thing blocking your airway. You keep trying to cough, to breathe, as machines start beeping around you. You lift your hands to pull at whatever is in your mouth, but you find your wrists encased in restraints, only able to lift them a few inches. Tears fill your eyes at the fear and the sensation of having something scratching inside of your throat.

“She’s awake!” a man yells. “Someone get Melissa!” There’s a hand on your arm and your vision clears enough to see Derek leaning over you. “It’s okay. Calm down,” he tries to soothe. There’s a worry in his eyes that he tries to hide that only makes you panic even more in your haze.  

You ball your hands into fists and pull at your restraints as hard as your weakened body allows. They don’t budge though and every sound you attempt to make; words, screams, anything, is blocked by the tube in your mouth. Derek’s hand wraps around yours and squeezes.

Melissa runs in, hands immediately coming to your mouth. She unclips the device and starts to pull. The tube down your throat comes out too slowly for your liking and you cough violently, trying to simultaneously expel it and ease the scratchiness it leaves behind.

You’re still coughing, trying to catch your breath when Peter runs into the room, clear panic across his face. Derek releases your hand reluctantly and steps back, allowing Peter to sweep in, taking his place. His hands instantly go to work on the restraint around one of your wrists.

“Peter,” Melissa warns, pausing her motions of adjusting the machines next to your bed to make the frantic beeping stop. He gives her a short glare.

“She’s coherent this time,” he scolds, continuing to release the straps. Once finished, he takes hold of your hand in both of his and you find yourself clinging to him. “And I’ve got her.” His words are as firm as his grip and you finally start to feel yourself relax, let your heartrate come down. His eyes meet yours and they soften. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, warming the cold skin. “I’ve got her,” he repeats quietly, the words meant for you this time.  

“What,” you try to speak, but your voice croaks and your throat burns in pain. Derek’s already handing Peter a cup of water with a straw for you to drink from. Melissa presses a button on the bed and the head of it starts to rise, slowly sitting you up. When you’re at a fairly upright angle, Peter holds the cup in front of you.

The water tastes good, but feels both soothing and painful as you swallow it. It’s very clearly the first liquid you’ve had in days. Which means you’ve been knocked out for at least that long. As you drink, you look closely at everyone. Derek’s stubble has grown out a little. There’s three long, faded scratches along Melissa’s right cheek. Peter looks tired and his clothes look crumpled, worn. You rub your legs together and judging by their scratchiness, it’s been at least a week since you shaved last.

“You’re going to be a little weak,” Melissa tells you gently as she works on the restraints on your other wrist. “Just go slow.” You clear your throat just to test your voice and it still hurts, but not enough to stop you.

“What happened?” It’s hoarse and low, but understandable.

“You’ve been out for almost twelve days,” Melissa says. “The poison really did a number on you. You’ve been on a ventilator for a couple of days now.”

“You woke up last week,” Derek tells you, coming to stand at the foot of the bed so that he can see you clearly. “But you weren’t exactly…” he pauses and his eyes involuntarily dart to Melissa’s face. She looks down, allowing her hair to curtain over her cheek and the scratches.

“Did I do that?” Guilt floods you, but she smiles gently and gives your hand a friendly squeeze.

“It’s okay. You weren’t lucid.” Her voice is kind and honest, holds no trace of blame. The woman was too damn nice. You squeeze her hand back and are about to apologize anyways when Peter speaks.

“You’ve got one hell of a right hook too.” His voice is more jovial, even if it is a little forced. “Wonder who taught you that.” You never thought in a hundred years that his condescending smirk would bring you such comfort, but by god it does. He rubs his jaw in mock pain and throws you a subtle wink. “Think I can still feel the bruise.” You let go of him and smack the back of your hand against his stomach. The motion takes more energy than you expected, but everyone gives a little smile.

“You probably deserved it,” you tease, hating how scratchy your voice sounds. You clear your throat and readjust yourself on the bed, incidentally tugging at your IV and various life-monitoring devices that make you look like a puppet with all their wires. You give up with a sigh and contend to being uncomfortable.  

“We can go over all the details later, but you’re going to be okay.” Melissa moves some of wires for you and lifts your bed up a little more.  

“Everyone else?” Anyone not in this room could be dead, after all.  

“Everyone is okay.” Derek calms your fears quickly, easily seeing the worry rise up in your face. “Kayla is dead and we got the Cerberus back where it belongs.”  

“And how exactly would you know if everyone’s alright?” Melissa quips, a smile on her face. She turns her eyes to you. “Neither of them have left this hospital since they brought you in here. The entire world could be devolved into chaos and they wouldn’t have a clue.” Both Hales shoot her half-hearted glares.

“Someone would have called,” Peter joke dryly. You bite back a smile of your own and reach for his hand again, redirecting his attention to you. It felt good to touch him.

“Well why don’t you go find out?” She puts her hands on the bed railing and straightens out, shifting strictly into Mom/Nurse-Taking-No-Shit mode. “She needs her rest and we’re going to need to run some tests just to be safe. So out you go.” She nods towards the door, but as expected, neither of them move without looking to you first.

“It’s okay,” you assure them, shooing them with one of your hands. “Go take showers. You both stink,” you tease. You can tell they’re still reluctant, but Derek nods his head and files out first. Peter pauses, reaching out to gently stroke his hand along your jaw before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promises.  

After Peter leaves, Melissa turns to you, having previously turned away to give you some semblance of privacy. She smiles sweetly, but there’s a teasing glint in her eye. You raise your eyebrows at her, silently asking what it was.

“You know,” she starts slowly, jotting down some notes on your chart. “I went on a date with him once. Sort of.” Suddenly you feel a little embarrassed.

“I…forgot about that,” you admit. She laughs a little bit.

“Most people do. Even I forget sometimes.” Grabbing a blood pressure cuff off the wall, she motions for your arm. “He had this gentleman air around him. Like he was the type of guy to always get the door for you and ask permission before he kisses you.” You scoff a little and she gives you a knowing look. “That was all a façade obviously. He’s not that kind of guy at all.” The inherently negativity of the statement brings the instinct to defend his character onto the tip on your tongue, but she continues without giving you the chance. “He is, however, the kind of guy to carry a bloody, barely breathing woman into the hospital and sit in the waiting room, also bloody, for 32 hours before he can see her again. He’s the kind of guy to stay with said women at all hours of the day and hold her hand and talk to her, plead with her to be okay because he needs her, when he thinks no one can hear.” Her eyes are trained on the blood pressure gauge as the cuff squeezes your arm uncomfortably, but you’re sure she can still notice the blush that comes to your pale face. “May not be the chivalrous gentleman he pretended to be, but it’s pretty clear that man would do anything for someone he loves.” You’re very grateful it’s just your blood pressure she’s checking and not your pulse because the way your heart just skipped around in your chest would certainly raise some red medical flags.

“Oh I don’t think… I mean he’s just being…” you fumble for words, but nothing sounds right. The smile she gives you is endearing and she gives you a small wink as she un-velcros the cuff.

“It must be a Hale thing,” she teases. “Derek also happened to be staining a chair with blood in our waiting room for quite a while.”  

“They better pay for those chairs,” you tell her, causing her to laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” She closes up your chart and gives your hand a pat. “I’ll have someone in to draw some blood in a minute, but after that, you should get some rest.” You had to admit, your body feels weak and your eyes want to do nothing more than close for a while.

“Thank you,” you tell her just before she leaves the room.

---

When your eyes blink open, you can tell it’s nighttime. All the lights are dimmed down in your room. The blinds over the windows you hadn’t noticed before are drawn, but it’s obvious there’s no sunlight trying to filter in behind them. Your bed is slightly reclined back, but all it takes is a lift of your head to see Peter sitting in a chair across the room, an open book in his hands. He’s got new clothes on, much less rumbled than before.

“Reading in the dark is bad for your eyes,” you manage to croak out. He looks up swiftly and smiles at you.

“So I’ve been told.” He snaps the book closed and leaves it on the chair behind him when he gets up, coming to stand next to you. He grabs the water off the table besides you and once again, holds it up for you to drink from the straw resting on the lip. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently after you manage to contain a sputter of a cough.  

“Sore. Groggy. Weak. But better than when I first woke up.” An honest answer. Lying wouldn’t do you any good with him.  

“You had us worried for a while there.” His hand comes to the top of your head, thumb stroking gently along your forehead. It’s comforting and almost makes you want to go back to sleep.

“You should have told me about the poison.” You can’t resist the urge to scold him lightly. “Locking me up with Argent of all people?” A look of regret briefly breaks through his features.

“I know.” The words surprise you. You hadn’t expected him to actually agree with you. “I didn’t have a better plan though and I just…” He sighs heavily, eyes looking away from you. “I was afraid,” he admits slowly. He doesn’t like saying it, even rolls his shoulders uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to… I couldn’t…”

“Come here,” you whisper, cutting him off and drawing his eyes back to you. You reach your hand out towards him and he only hesitates for a moment before leaning down close to you. You bring your hand to his cheek, his jawline prickling the bottom of your palm with too-long stubble. Your hold on his face is gentle and timid, but he leans into it, almost like he craved your touch. You brush your thumb over his cheekbone and he closes his eyes. “I can’t lose you either.”  

He doesn’t need to say it. You don’t expect him to. Words are an unneeded obligation after everything that’s happened. Romance. Connection. Love. People will call it, label it, whatever they see fit, but you don’t need to. In this moment, it’s clear you and Peter both know you’re on the same page, whatever that might be. That’s all that matters.

He leans down enough to press his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s not out of passion or lust, but of a need to be touching you, to be intimate on a deeper level and to feel you solidly, real and alive. You cling to him, one hand on his cheek and the other fisting the torso of his shirt. It lasts longer than it probably should and when he finally pulls away, you’re blinking away tears.  

Everything is okay.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For coming back for me.”  

“I’ll always come back for you,” he says softly, pulling away a little further. You wonder briefly, if the heart skipping thing will ever stop around him. His eyes brighten a little and his face lightens. “Don’t want to waste a good student.” You bite your lip to hold back a soft laugh while letting your hands come down from him, allowing him to straighten back up with a grin. “You should get your rest,” he tells you, offering you the water once more. “I’ll be here if you need me.”  

He gives your hand a squeeze before returning to his chair and opening up his book. You watch him for just a few moments, admiring everything about him and being simply amazed at how things have turned out. Your eyes drift shut and you slip into sleep with the lightest smile on your face.  

Everything is perfect.

[themfchase]

raven unit III (m) jjk

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

‒ raven unit. (m) chapter three: seamore. ✎  [10k words]

genre: political!Au, taskforce!Au, warcrime!Au

warnings: smut, angst, slight bdsm, fluff (?), gore, violence, drug mentions, alcohol mention, graphic description of violence, death With your life at risk and several people around you dead, your loyal head of security makes sure your safety is taken care of when he’s out of the picture. Three ruthless, dangerous and deadly men take on the task to protect and hide you, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok and the one in command, Jeon Jungkook. masterlist. chapter one. chapter two chapter four. chapter five. .raven unit:  drabble #01  drabble #02

Your body ached all over, your mouth was dryer than it had ever been before. You tried to open your eyes, but it felt like they were sow shut. Coughing, your body ached, and you groaned. You heard movement beside you, something wet and cold touching your lips right after. It was water. You drank with difficulty, trying to lift your head and dropping it back down. You finally were able to open your eyes. The room was dark. You were in a bed, an IV attached to your arm where you were being given blood and fluids.  “How are you feeling?” You heard a familiar voice. Your eyes traveling until it met its owner. Jungkook.  You hummed, unable to speak. He looked tired, dark circled under his eyes, as he put the cup back down beside you.  “W-where a-are we?” You asked, voice coming out hoarse and low. It was as if you haven’t spoken in weeks.  “Seamore.” Was all he answered, coldly.  “You lost a lot of blood, Jungkook asked Jin to get you a medical team, they operated you at gunpoint, probably not their best day at work.” A second voice joined, your eyes shifted to him, it was Yoongi. He also looked tired, but better.  You tried to sit up, Jungkook helping as you felt your body ache violently.  “You were out for a week.” This time it was Hoseok, he was also there. You felt your heart race, you were unconscious for a whole week, Jungkook gave him an angry side look, you noticed.  “We’re staying here until you recover, Jins evacuated the place, it’s only us,” Jungkook said. You looked around, noticing there were three more people int the room. You spotted Jimin, then Taehyung, and a new face. A tall man, the most symmetric and beautiful features you had ever seen, dark hair and arms crossed over his chest. You swallowed.  “Can I speak to Jungkook alone please?” You asked the men and Jungkook looked at them, slowly, each one left. Last was Hoseok, a guilty look on his face. Jungkook looked back at you.  “It wasn’t his fault.” You said and Jungkook looked away, irritated. “I asked him to close the door, I thought I was safe.” You said, and Jungkook looked back at you.  “You thought wrong.” He spat at you, and you were quiet, looking down at your hands.  “I’m sorry.” You said in a small voice, feeling your throat constrict.  Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  “Fuck, I thought you were going to die.” He let out in a breath, voice strained. “I thought you were going to bleed to death in my arms, and... And when we got here, you were already hanging by a thread, I saw your heart stop.” He looked back up at you, desperation in his eyes. It stung deep inside of you. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face in it. “I’m sorry.” You said again on the edge of crying. Slowly, Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, nose digging into your hair, he inhaled, relaxing in your hold. It was a rush of feelings all of a sudden. Being in his arms, not wanting to let go. You didn’t know if you had projected the turmoil of feeling onto Jungkook since he was the safe figure in your life, but you didn’t care, you just needed to reassure him. Pulling back, you looked up at him.  “It’s over, I’m ok now.” You said, and he nodded. “Please don’t be mad at Hoseok.”  Jungkook sighed again, hands coming and rubbing up and down your arms.  “I’ll try my best,” He said before pulling away and opening a drawer next to your bed. He blinked heavily a few times as he took medical supplies out of it.  “Jungkook, when was the last time you slept?” You asked him and he didn’t answer. “You have to rest.” You laid back down.  “You sound like Yoongi,” He spoke, voice tired.  ” Well, maybe Yoongi has a point." You looked at him. “I’m ok, Jungkook, I’m alive, you can rest now.” You said, and he turned to you.  “I have to change your bandages.” He ignored you.  “I can do it for you.” You heard an unfamiliar voice, looking past Jungkook, at the door. The man with the dark hair and broad shoulders looked at the two of you.  “Jin, it’s ok, I can do it.” Jungkook argued.  “No, you can go take a shower and get some sleep, she’s not going anywhere.” Jin approached the two of you. “Beside’s, I want to meet my guest.” He said as he stopped by the edge of the bed. Jungkook looked at you and you nodded. Sighing in defeat, he put the medical supplies down on the bed.  “Fine. If you need anything ask Jin, don’t hesitate in asking them to wake me up.” You nodded again, and he hesitated before finally turning and leaving. As he made his way out of the room, your eyes followed him, stopping at the man at the edge of your bed.  He took a few steps in your direction, eyeing you curiously. He was silent as he took the supplies and started prepping them.  “You’ve caused quite a hurricane of emotions on everyone,” Jin spoke.  You eyed him, pursing your lips.  “It wasn’t my intention.” You said.  He motioned for you to take off your shirt; you hesitated.  “Oh, dear, there is nothing there I haven’t seen this week.” He cocked an eyebrow. You sighed. You uncomfortably shifted, lifting your shirt with one hand, and he helped you hook your shirt over your injured arm. You covered your breasts with your free hand as he undid your bandages.  “I assume you and Jungkook are involved.” He said. “He wouldn’t worry this much for anyone, and I’ve known him for a long time.”  “It’s confusing.” You answered as Jin finally finished taking out your bandages.  “How so?” He asked, taking the cotton and soaking it in antiseptic.  “I don’t know how I can feel attached to him the way I feel without barely knowing him.” You admitted and Jin hummed, dabbing the cotton lightly on your closed wound. It stung a little, but nothing you couldn’t handle.  “How long have you two known each other?” He asked, throwing the used cotton away and taking another one, repeating the process.  “I think two weeks now.” You swallowed.  Jin was silent as he went on. You had known Jungkook for five days in total, twelve if you count the days you were out.  “Are you in love with him?” He asked bluntly, and you looked at him.  You couldn’t say no, but you also couldn’t say yes, all you knew is that you felt something, but even that didn’t make sense.  “I don’t think I am, but I know I feel something, it just feels too soon to feel anything at all, it feels like I’m cheating because I see Jungkook as this... Protective figure.” You looked down at your fingers. Jin started placing the gauze over your wound. He was gentle, as if he had done this several times before.  “But you’re not just seeing him as a protective figure, he is one. It’s his job.” Jin said, and you were left speechless. “And what about love at first sight, you don’t  believe in those things?” He asked.  You chuckled.  “It wasn’t loved at first sight.” You told him shaking your head and remembering the dark eyes that had woken you up two weeks ago. “Ok, fine, maybe love at fifth sight, it doesn’t really matter, what matters is...” He started wrapping the bandage around your shoulder. “You feel something, too soon or not, you do, and there isn’t anything you can do about what you feel, but what are you going to do about the two of you?” He asked, finishing up the process and setting tape over the bandage.  “What do you mean?” You questioned. He finally looked at you, sitting down at the edge of the bed and helping you put your shirt back on.  “What I mean is... What happens after this is over?” He rested his hand on his thigh. “Do you have any intention of leaving this all behind and not looking back? Or do you think you’ll want something with him?” He seemed calmed. You thought about it. If this all ended, could you go on with your life without Jungkook in it? Or would you find a way to keep him? Just the thought of not having Jungkook around made you feel sick and your face twisted. You looked back at Jin. A soft smile tugged on his lips.  “That’s a good enough answer for me.” He said, pulling your covers off of your legs.  “They had a pretty bad fight,” Jin told you as he walked around the bed, to the other side, where your leg wound was. You could only imagine what ‘a pretty bad fight’ meant for Hoseok and Jungkook.  “It wasn’t his fault.” You said as you turned on your side, you were only in your underwear. Fresh ones.  “But it was,” Jin said, and you furrowed your brows. “He had instructions to not leave you alone with anyone but one of them and he did so, right?”  “Yeah, but I made him close the door.” You argued.  “And you weren’t the one in charge, dear.” Jin raised both eyebrows. He started unwrapping your leg. “As much as I appreciate your concern for Jungkook’s and Hoseok’s relationship, if this were any other situation, you’d be dead, you almost did die.” He put the bandages aside. “In war, you don’t forget orders, dear.” Jin looked back at you. You had no argument for that, you sat silently while he cleaned your wound, it no longer hurt and you looked back at him, he understood your confusion.  “After they operated on your shoulder, the doctor noticed your other wound, took care of it, took out the bullet, closed it properly, it’s healing faster.” You nodded in understanding. “You wanna see it?” He quirked an eyebrow with a glint of excitement in his eyes.  “The bullet? You kept it?” You asked, and Jin finished wrapping you up before walking beside you again and opening the drawer. He took it out, a silver bullet. He looked at it, amusement filling his eyes. “9-millimeter ammo...” He said. “It’s the most common around the world, the same one I have in my gun.” Gently, he placed it in your palm. It was cold. You looked at it, it felt like a useless object, but it was inside of you once.  “That little thing has killed more people than cancer, yet the largest cause of death in the world is heart disease.” He shook his head. “What are the odds?” He looked back at you. You were quiet for a while as you looked at the bullet,  sighing. You were mentally and emotionally tired of being hunted down; you needed a break. Looking around the room, you finally realized you were at Seamore, a place you didn’t know other than this room.  “Where am I?” You asked.  Jin sat down on the edge of the bed again.  “Seamore. My home. My work.” He started. “It’s similar to Red Hawk, only we’re underneath a city.” You looked up at the ceiling. Jin chuckled. “We’re right at the border. If things had gone according to plan, you’d already be in Safehouse.” He stated. You nodded, thinking about what Jungkook had said. It was only the seven of you. “You sent your men away.”  Jin hummed.  “When Jungkook asked Jimin to call, he said he didn’t want anyone but us here, so I sent my men away before sending the helicopter.” He informed. “You all seem very close.” You played with the bullet in your hand.  Jin tilted his head, taking a deep breath.  “We all served together, yes, but we have history.” He started. “When I met Jungkook, I was his first commander, he had just joined the police force back in Soul.” You looked up at him, intrigued. You wanted to know more about Jungkook. “He was full of life back then, wanted to be a man of law and integrity, then right after, I convinced him, Jimin and Taehyung to join another force task, first it was as a Federal Agent, then, it suddenly wasn’t enough, he wanted more...” Jin looked down at the sheets. “So we joined the military, met Yoongi and Hoseok, we all trained together, two years, the six of us.” He had a nostalgic smile on his face. “Soon after we were joining White Tiger, that’s where we met Namjoon.” He said. You lifted your eyebrows, that was a name you vaguely remembered. “We served four years as White Tiger before we were being sent out to the war, the seven of us, we were inseparable. Soon, Jungkook was our commander, he was... He was fierce. He still is fierce. But this world is fucked up...” Jin looked back at you with melancholy. “Greedy people and money, we were framed, Jungkook tried taking the blame, Hoseok and Yoongi didn’t let him, so they all did time together, two years.”  You were shocked, you couldn’t imagine Jungkook in jail, especially for something he hadn’t done. “Eventually Philip came along, made a deal with the devil and they were pardoned.” He finished.  “Philip helped them?” You asked.  “Not without a price.” He mused.  “They trust Philip, though.” You argued.  Jin was silent for a few minutes, and the silence was enough to make you think Jin had a different opinion.  “You don’t.” You looked back down at the bullet in your hand.  “Ah, well, I don’t trust anyone but the seven of us. Besides, a man with that influence can only have one objective in mind.” He slowly got up. “And what is that?” You questioned, laying back down.  “Money.” He finished, eyes focused on yours.  You took a deep breath, holding the bullet firm in your palm.  “Get some rest, tomorrow I’ll give you a tour around the place.” He smiled at you before turning on his heels.  And he was out of the room. You sighed, thinking of everything Jin had said. He was a calm man, but smart, you could tell. You had met many men that were like Jin and knew that he was smarter than he seemed. Soon, you closed your eyes, trying to get some more rest.  You woke up to someone coming to check on you, eyes blinking as you looked up.  “Hobi.” You whispered, he looked down at you, a guilty smile on his cut lips. You would see the bruise around his left eye.   “Hey... You should sleep some more, I just came to check on you.” He stated, looking back up at your IV.  “I’m sorry.” You said, and he stopped moving, pursing his lips and looking back at you.  “What are you even sorry for?” He asked.  You gulped.  “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t asked for privacy.” Hoseok nodded, sitting back on the bed and looking down at his hand.  “Even if I understand why you’re apologizing, you still have nothing to be sorry for, my job is to protect you and assess any possible danger, I made a bad call when I allowed you to be alone with that woman, too hung up on the fact we were at Red Hawk, a place I deemed safe.” He started, and you sighed, silence taking over for a while. “It’s not the first time Jungkook and I throw fists at each other, you know?” He looked at you, a nostalgic smile on his face. You smiled back at him.  “He’ll get over it, I’m sure.” He said getting up and taking your hand. “Thank you for having my back... I’m really sorry.” He said with sincerity in his words. You nodded and watched as he walked out of the room.  Seamore was like an underground bunker, only it was as large as a mall. White tile covered walls with led white lights and metal bars all over the place. You walked slowly as you dragged your IV with you, looking around the open space. Jin walked beside you in silence.  “How did you even build his?” You asked after a while. Jin chuckled, and you looked at him.  “I didn’t... It was already here when I bought it, it used to be an underground military base for the Russians back in the ‘70s, I only renovated it.” He said, both hands resting behind his back as he followed your pace.  “I want to ask how you all even have the money for this, but I’m afraid to.” You said, chuckling. There was no point in asking, really. You knew that whatever means they went through to get money, probably wasn’t legal.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t be pleased with that information.” He quirked a brow, and you smiled at him. “Here, let me show you my favorite place around here.” He leads the way. You followed, curious.  When you walked through the metal door there laid a fully equipped industrial kitchen. A cooking island in the middle and even a freezer. “Cooking is my form of therapy, I enjoy learning new recipes.” He said as he leaned both hands against the metal table in the middle.  “I can’t even remember the last time I cooked, probably back home, with my mother.” You said as you made your way around, looking at all the cooking utensils and such.  “Ah, yes, home.” He leaned back on the sink and looked at you, waiting.  You looked back at him, understanding he wanted you to talk about it. You sighed.  “It was a normal home, as normal as it could be for the president’s daughter. My mother helped me with my homework, my father and I would go to baseball games occasionally. Sometimes it all rushed back that he was in charge of a whole country. I had to hear republicans talk about him as if he were the worst person ever.” You said, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall. Jin quirked an eyebrow, curious. “But that also brought Thomas into my life, he was with me all day every day, I saw him as this uncle figure, you know?” You smiled and Jin sighed. You didn’t even notice your eyes watering. “He’s dead now... He died on our way to camp.” You wiped the tears that started flowing down.  “And how many more people died?” Jin asked. You looked up at him, the question taking you by surprise.  “I-I I’m not s-sure. I know that  the men at the house died trying to protect me, then the people at camp died, I was, I was in the helicopter when they struck, I never even saw anyone’s face.” You were looking at the cemented floor as you remembered all the people that had died because of you, your hand coming up to your lips to silence your crying.  Jin was silent as he took in your reaction. He tilted his head to the side. “You think this is your fault.” It wasn’t a question.  You didn’t say anything, just cried in silence.  “Y/N, do you understand that those people didn’t die because of you?” He asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head in denial.  “They died trying to protect m-me.” You said.  “Yes, they did. But they didn’t die because they were protecting you, that was their everyday job, they died because someone gave the order.” Jin pulled away from the sink and slowly walked your way. He put his hands in his pockets. “People only die when someone wants them killed, and unless you gave the order, you’re not at fault.” He said, and you swallowed, pursing your lips.  “Jin, I think that’s enough shrink playing for the day.” Your head shot in the direction of the door where you were met with the familiar white hair.  “Ah, Yoongi, glad of you to join us.” Jin smiled, “I was about to make breakfast.” He finished with a small smile on his lips.  Yoongi ignored the man and walked to the black coffee machine, taking two mugs from beneath the sink and serving. You dried your face with the back of your hand. Yoongi walked to you and handed you one of the mugs.  “Come on, let’s go see the boys.” He said, and you nodded, looking at Jin that was now folding his sleeves up his arm.  You walked with Yoongi in silence before he broke it.  “I think we should train you when you’re healed.” He said, and you looked at him in a silent question. He eyed you.  There was this dark aura about Yoongi that you didn’t notice for the first few days. He was more serious than the other man, almost as serious as Jungkook.  “We don’t know when another situation like that can happen so, it’s better to teach you the basics of self-defense, maybe teach you how to shoot.” He brought the mug up to his lips, taking a sip.  You watched closely as you saw his jaw move. It wasn’t a secret to you that all men in the unit were undoubtedly attractive, but other than Jungkook, Yoongi had a small effect on you. “How does Jungkook feel about this?” You asked, turning the corner as you made your way to wherever the boys were.  “He accepted, we can start basic training the day after tomorrow, wouldn’t want any of your wounds opening.” He turned his face and smirked, probably teasing you about the moments before you were attacked. You rolled your eyes. There was always a boyish way to them, it was refreshing.  As you finally reached the room where the boys were gathered, you noticed it looked more like a lounge. Taehyung was the first to see you, a wide smile spreading across his face as he got up and met you halfway.  “How are you feeling, birdie?” He ruffled your hair, making you chuckle.  “A little sore, but I’m ok.” You smiled back at him, eyes looking at Jimin.  “Glad you’re ok, Raven.” He smiled briefly and nodded. Smiling back you made your way to the couches they were seated at, noticing Hobi looking at you quietly.  “Hey Hobi...” You smiled at him. “Mind if I sit next to you?” He lifted his eyebrows and shook his head and you took a seat, the rest of them settling down and you noticed Jungkook wasn’t there, looking around.  “He said he had some things to take care of because of the delay.” Yoongi noticed your silent question and answered while he sat down on the couch opposite to you. “He left before the sun came up, he’ll be here soon.” You pursed your lips and nodded.  “So, you’re going to become part of the Unit I heard.” It was Jimin who started the small talk.  You chuckled.  “I don’t think Jungkook is going to find it easy to teach me how to be violent.” You laughed.  “Who said anything about Jungkook?” Yoongi questioned and you looked at him. “Jungkook sucks at teaching, me on the other hand...” He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning in. “I’m the Master.” He smirked and the boys all started laughing, making fun of him, even Hoseok. “Yeah, if you call slapping the shit out of newbies when they get on your nerves,” Hoseok commented.  “Or making them stand naked in the rain for five hours.” A voice came from the door and Jin was coming is with a cart of food. Everyone laughed, and you were curious, wanting to know more.  “Shut up, I was just teaching them that life won’t be kind to them when they fuck up.” Jin hummed, sitting down next to Yoongi and setting the plated on the coffee table in front of the couches.  “Something life isn’t kind even when you don’t fuck up,” Jin said, and Yoongi rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, well, those fuckers wouldn’t last a day in Jail.” He retorted, starting to pile up an empty plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and bread.  You pursed your lips yet again, this time wanting to know more about their time in jail.  “How long did you guys do time?” You asked, not making eye contact, and the room went silent. They exchanged knowing glanced before deciding on answering.  “Enough to not ever want to go back.” It was Hoseok that answered, you hummed.  “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yoongi said with humor in his voice.  Hoseok scoffed, leaning in and also filling his plate.  “Speak for yourself, I hated that place, wasn’t meant for me.” He shook his head. “You, on the other hand, fit right in.” The surrounding boys all laughed and started eating the food Jin had prepared.  “How about Jungkook?” You asked taking a grape and popping it into your mouth. You looked at Yoongi and he quirked an eyebrow. Looking at Jin, he nodded.  ‘Well... Although Hoseok here thinks I fit in with criminals, Jungkook on the other hand." He paused. “Let’s just say he can be intimidating.” He looked up at you.  “You’re all intimidating in my opinion.” You said.  “Wait, even me?” Hobi looked surprised, pointing at his own chest.  You nodded, and the boy’s laughed.  “But, I have to admit... Jungkook is... He has a darkness inside of him like there is a part no one can reach, like a part of him he shows to no one, not even to you guys.” You only noticed what you had said after you finished, looking up to see all eyes on you.  “Guess she really is becoming one of us, she notices it too.” It was Jimin’s turn to talk, chucking bitterly as he did so. You chewed on another grape, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.  “Was... Was everyone afraid of him in jail?” You wanted to change the subject.  “Afraid is an understatement. Some people wanted him to become some sort of leader in there,” Hoseok said.  “Honestly, I think he was a great leader. Too bad he went to isolation for two weeks after he battled.” Yoongi shrugged.  “Hm?” You furrowed your brows, not understanding.  “Isolation, man, jail sucks, but being isolated from society for two whole weeks? Drives a dude mad, I still remember the look in his eyes when he came out.” Hoseok set his plate back down, shaking his head.  “But why did he have to go to isolation in the first place?” You asked.  “Well, even if he didn’t want to become a leader, the one in place heard that some inmates wanted to choose a new one and decided to challenge Jungkook, like, a fight of sorts.” Yoongi started. “Son of a bitch said there was going to be a fight in the court after lunch. Even the officers were in on it, can’t say authority liked us, but they didn’t tell us that the dude had a weapon.” Your eyes bulged. “We knew that there was no way of getting out of it, so he decided to fight, pretty confident in his body to body engage, middle of the fight, he gets stabbed in the torso.” Both hands come up to your mouth in shock.  “H-how... Did he lose?” You questioned, and Yoongi shook his head. “Then how d-did he win?” Yoongi opened his mouth to answer but was cut off.  “I continued fighting with the thing sticking out of me...” All eyes shot to the owner of the voice, standing in the entrance, hands crossed over his chest. He was in all black, like the last time you had seen him at Red Hawk. Taking a step forward, he continued. “Managed to bring him down, straddled him, using my knee on his chest to make sure he stayed down, took the improvised knife out of me and stabbed him in the throat, the officers were only able to immobilize me when I knew he was dead.” He finished, standing now at the end of the couch, eyes roaming through the people in the room.  “Way to be explicit at breakfast, Jungkook.” Jimin rolled his eyes, putting his plate down, not feeling his appetite. “Pussy.” He teased, and the tense atmosphere that had settled at his arrival dissipated.  “How’d it go?” Yoongi asked, resuming his eating. You avoided looking at Jungkook, unable to hide the heat in your cheeks at all the conversations you had had about him and the very live memory of you both in the shower.  “We’re good, spoke to Namjoon and he said we have an opening in two weeks, we can start with her training in the meantime, won’t get us too far, but at least somewhere.” He spoke and Yoongi nodded. “How are you feeling?” He looked at you.  “G-good, yeah...” You stuttered. “Jin took me for a walk.” You smiled weakly, and he hummed. Something was off, Jungkook was being all too dry all of a sudden.  “Ok, good, you should get some rest, we’re starting training tomorrow despite your wounds, we don’t have much time.” He put his hands in his pockets, the boys suddenly quiet.  “Ok.” Was all you answered, a little disappointed.  “The rest of you, back to work, procrastinating time is over.” He said a little more stern, and the boys started to move. You watched as even Jin was gathering the things and slowly they all exited the room quietly, you and Jungkook being the last ones there. You looked up at him, his eyes trained on your small figure, the IV still by your side.  “Was that necessary?” You asked him and sighed.  “What do you mean?” He questioned, no change in his demeanor.  You turned your body in his direction.  “We were having a conversation and eating breakfast, you could have waited a little longer.” You said, and Jungkook shifted in his spot.  “Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt your brunch time, Miss President?” He said, sarcastically.  ”Whoa, what was that for?" You furrowed your brows.  “In case you forgot, we’re in the middle of a manhunt, the ‘man’ being you, unless you want to live we can’t forget what we are here for.” He argued.  “Yeah, Jungkook, I get it, but I could use a little normal every once in a while.” You argued back.  “Normal? Did you completely forget you were almost killed?” He raised his voice.  “No, I didn’t, but I wasn’t killed Jungkook, I’m still alive, I’m right here.” You raised yours.  “I saw you die!” He yelled. You went quiet.  Yes, Jin had told you that your heart had stopped, he saved the details.  “You were dead, gone, flatlined.” He went on. You looked down. “I saw you white, lifeless and drenched in your own blood before they brought you back.” He was short of breath. You swallowed, looking up at him again.  “How many times am I going to have to apologize? I told you I was sorry, I made a mistake and I’m sorry I put you through that.” Your voice was softer than you intended and his shoulders relaxed.  “I just...” He started but shook his head.  “You what Jungkook?” You stood, taking two steps towards him.  “Nothing, I need us to focus on this mission and make sure nothing like that happens again, our priority is to keep you alive.” He looked away, and you stretched your arm, resting your hand on top of his, he stilled.  “Ok.” You answered him, reassuring him that you were going to do your best, he looked up at you, the space between you both closing with each second.  “I need to go check on the... The weapons we have for training.” He cleared his throat and took a step back, turning his back to you and leaving you alone in the silent room.  Something had certainly changed between you and Jungkook, and the following week had only proven that.  There had been no more intimate interactions if anything, Jungkook had been avoiding you at all costs, not staying alone with you more than necessary, instead assigning Jimin to be the one to watch over you when you weren’t training body to body combat with Yoongi or with anyone else. You had grown closer to the others, waking up early in the morning and always cooking breakfast with Jin, you all made it a habit to eat together in the lounge, Jungkook would join but stay quiet, not partaking in the conversation and although it bothered you, you didn’t want to push him.  Your wounds were healing perfectly, and Hoseok was the one helping you with physical therapy every afternoon before and after training. You found yourself very fond of him, noticing just how warm-hearted and kind Hoseok was.  The evenings were Taehyung’s shifts, where he always had a bottle of something hidden under his jacket and you two would talk about mundane things while you shared a drink before Jimin came to get you back to your room, where he usually stayed until you fell asleep.  You knew Jungkook took over after that; you had woken up one night and noticed him sitting on the chair next to your bed looking into that black little notebook he always had with him, you just shut your eyes and went back to sleep, wanting to say so much but being too tired to do so.  Today was the first day you’d be spending alone time with Jungkook.  Now that your shoulder wound was practically healed you were going to have your first shooting lesson and Jungkook was the best shooter.  Making your way to meet with Yoongi, you stopped at the door and thanked Hoseok for walking with you and you stepped into the small training room where you stopped in your spot, noticing that Yoongi wasn’t alone. Both heads turned your way.  God, why did they have to be so attractive and lethal at the same time?  “Jungkook... What are you doing here?” You asked, clearing your throat and starting to walk yet again.  “Just wanted to watch and see how you improved, if your shoulder is hanging on to, and how we can start with the shooting today.” You eyed Yoongi, that teasing smirk on his lips that you kinda hated but loved was there. “Go ahead.” He walked towards one of the chairs and sat down. “Hey there, princess.” He teased you.  Princess had become a pet name you hated, Yoongi only used it when he wanted to get on your nerves.  “Don’t start, you ass.” You rolled your eyes and started to tie your hair.  “Or what?” He eyed Jungkook from his peripheral vision. “Gonna ask your boyfriend to kick my ass?” He whispered so only you could hear. You clenched your jaw.  “Might just do it myself.” You retorted.  That was Yoongi’s cue, and he came forward, both hands headed for your throat before he could even reach it you did exactly what you were taught, both hands coming from the side and slamming down onto his arms before you turned and faked him in the throat.  “Good!” Yoongi praised. “That was a lot better.” After what seemed like ten minutes of you both going through routines, Jungkook stood up.  “Are you two both done warming up?” He asked in a stern voice.  You looked at him, brows furrows and chest heaving up and down.  “W-What do you mean?” You asked, and Yoongi crossed his arms.  “All I saw was you showing her exactly what you were going to do and giving her time to remember her moves.” He sounded irritated. “You went slow and we know that if this were real situations she probably wouldn’t de doing so well.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Yoongi beat you to it.  “Jungkook, she’s a civilian, she doesn’t know hand to hand combat, and she had a week of training, I think she’s doing pretty good.” He argued.  “I want to see how she’d handle it without you being so gentle.” He crossed his arms, demanding. “Jungkook, I don’t think-“ Yoongi started, but you interrupted. “No, he’s right... People out there won’t be gentle, they’ll be trying to kill me.” You looked at Yoongi and you saw dread on his face, he didn’t want to hurt you.  “Jungkook should do it.” You said, looking at the man.  Jungkook uncrossed his arm, eyes slightly bulged.  “I trust that he’ll know when to stop.” He pursed his lips, jaw clenching, and sighed, rolling up his shirt.  “Fine.” He said, getting in front of you, you turned to face him.  “Ok, should we at least set a safe-“ He didn’t let you finish, launching his body forward and soon his hand was around your neck, pushing your body to the ground, harshly, your head hitting the floor. You saw Yoongi take a step forward, but he stopped himself.  “And you’re dead,” Jungkook said, hand still wrapped around your throat, but loose. “This is what I was talking about, if keep going ea-“ You hit his hand with your elbow, making him lose his balance and fall forward, quickly, you rolled on the floor, straddling him and putting your hand around his throat, but never pressing.  Jungkook took a few seconds to react, chest rising and falling as he looked at you.  All of a sudden you were too aware of the position and the way his eyes went dark didn’t help. His hand slowly came up and gripped at your writs, pressing as his thumb gently rubbed up and down. You wanted to give in; you wanted to submit and to show just how something as stupid as this was enough to have you keen to him, but you were mad at him. No, you were absolutely pissed at him for avoiding you for a whole week, regardless of his fears, just ignoring the fact that both of you were intimate a week ago and acting as nothing happened.  Your features softened when you heard Yoongi shuffle uncomfortably in the room. You got up quickly, patting your clothes and looking at Yoongi and back at Jungkook who remained on the floor.  “Maybe Yoongi should try.” You suggested and the white-haired boy’s eyes went wide-eyed, looking at Jungkook on the floor and even if you didn’t see the man’s reaction Yoongi quickly shook his head.  “I uh, I think you two should just go on without me, we only have twenty minutes left anyway, so, go on.” He put both hands in his pocket and slowly made his way out of the room.  You stood there sighing before you suddenly heard Jungkook behind you. “Listen, Jungkook...” You turned around and stopped talking when you noticed just how close he was. He quirked an eyebrow.  “Yes?” He asked. You swallowed, taking a small step back.  “Look...” You tried to think of better ways to say what you wanted to say without sounding like an infatuated teenager. “If... If you want to ignore what happened between us that is completely ok by me, but, it would have been nice to have a heads up before I’m being ignored by the guy that fucked me a week ago.” You looked at him, breathing in.  Bringing his lower lip into his mouth, Jungkook broke eye contact, chuckling bitterly.  “I’m sorry if I’m focused on keeping you alive rather than have sit-downs to talk about us.” You felt a sting in your chest, silence filling the room for a while before you looked down and spoke. “Is that what this is, then? It’s just a mission and you’re conveniently attracted to me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling small. He went quiet, and you swallowed, not needing him to answer, yet... You refused to believe his silence.  “You know what, I think you’re full of shit.” You said, and he furrowed his brows in confusion. “Yeah, I think you care about me, more than just a mission and even if I’m not sure why you’re acting the way you are and being indifferent, I think you should be as tough with me as you are with the rest of the world because right now, you look like a fucking coward.” You gave him a weak smile."I think you’re scared. And honestly, so am I... I’m so fucking scared Jungkook, not just for me, but for you, and for the boys. What if something happened to them because of me, what if someone else dies because of me?" You looked up at him and his eyes went soft. “How about after? I have no idea what’s going to happen and I honestly don’t want to think about it... But I have to do this, there isn’t any other choice...” You breathed in, trying to hold in your tears. “I would just like it if instead of making this harder... You’d just make it easier.” You looked back at him again. You shook your head when he didn’t answer and walked out of the room frustrated. You weren’t surprised when instead of Jungkook showing up for your first shooting lesson; it was Jin.  The first class went smoothly, you learned the basics and Jin was rather patient with you like he always was. As the night rolled in you all got ready for dinner and once again Jungkook wasn’t there, you sighed when you noticed his absence and Yoongi gave you an empathetic look while you just smiled at him weakly and ate while the boys started to argue about something like they usually did.  After dinner, you walked back to your room with Jimin and as you approached; you saw Yoongi by the door.  “Hey, Chim, I’ll take over today,” Yoongi said and Jimin furrowed his brows.   “You sure, Jungkook said-“ “I know what Jungkook said, you’re dismissed, I’ll take it from here.” He cut the boy short and Jimin shrugged before saying goodnight and walking to his room. You looked at Yoongi in confusion and he smiled down at you before he showed what was hidden under his jacket. A bottle of bourbon. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I thought you might want to talk after today.” He shrugged.  “Did you change places with Taehyung? He’s the one that usually tried to get me drunk.” You smiled and opened your door, making your way in while Yoongi followed.  “Well, I just didn’t get to spend my designated time with you an as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of missed your ass.” He smiled and sat at the chair next to your bed.  You walked towards the small locker where you kept your clothes.  “Missed me, huh?” You laughed.“ Are you gonna fight big bad Jungkook for taking me away from you?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes.  As you slowly slid off your pants and pulled your shirt up, Yoongi cleared his throat and turned around. You looked back, laughing when you noticed. “Oh, please, like you even care, if I remember correctly you were peaking the first time we met.” You finally put on some comfortable clothes and crawled in bed. Yoongi turned back to you, cheeks slightly red. You laughed at him.  “God, who would have known all of you killers would be so soft.” You shook your head and extended your arm, pointing at the bottle. Yoongi gave it to you after taking a swing. He made a face and handed you the bottle.  “Yeah, well, who would have known you weren’t such a spoiled rich girl after all.” He teased back. Taking a drink, you felt the alcohol burn down your throat, coughing afterward.  “You need to teach Jungkook how to be soft.” You said after you recuperated from your coughing.  “Jungkook is just difficult... He has his soft side.” Yoongi said.  “I know he does, I guess I’ve seen a bit of it before he stopped liking me.” You shook your head and took another sip. “Y/N, he didn’t stop liking you, come on.” He reasoned with you.  “I don’t know, Yoongi... He changed. I don’t know what it is... I wish I could understand, you know? It would be less painful.” You looked down at the bottle. “It’s not even about being rejected, I can accept that, it’s just the lack of communication, not understanding him, not knowing what troubles him and why one moment he looks at me like I’m everything and the next he looks at me like I’m just... A mission.” You looked at Yoongi and he had an understanding look in his eyes.  “You should get some sleep, It’s been a long day.” Yoongi takes the bottle from your hand and you nod, getting comfortable. It was quiet for a while before you broke the silence.  “Yoongi?” You called, and he hummed. “I really like him.” You said in a sleepy voice, mind drifting off to sleep after a few moments of silence.  You don’t how long you were asleep before you heard the door open, it was unusual for you to wake up, but maybe the alcohol had made your sleep lighter than usual.  “Why did you trade places with Jimin?” You heard Jungkook’s voice. He was talking low in the dark room. Yoongi sighed.  “Just wanted to spend some time with her, she could use a little normal.” The other answered quietly.  “You don’t break protocol without talking to me first, do you understand?” Jungkook sounded irritated.  “Jungkook, we’re safe, I’d bet my life on it,” Yoongi argued. You tried your best to be quiet and pretend you were asleep. Jungkook was silent for a few seconds.  “Are you in love with her, is that it?” Jungkook questioned and even you were surprised by it.  “Oh, fuck you, Jungkook, you don’t get to do that,” Yoongi said bitterly. You could hear the slight drunkenness in his voice. “You don’t get to act possessive or jealous when everyone can see you’re the one pushing her away.” He finished and you could hear the bottle moving. “I care about her just like I care about every single person in this unit, excuse me if I refuse to treat her as a mission and instead as a human.” Your heart constricted at his words. Everything went quiet, and you wondered if they had left for a second before you heard Jungkook sigh.  “I’m just trying to stay focused, I don’t want to make any mistakes, I can’t afford it.” It was the first time in a while you felt like Jungkook’s words were raw.  “There is no point in bubble wrapping her like this if by the end of the mission there are no feelings left to even cultivate, bro.” Yoongi’s voice went lower.  You heard him getting up and walking towards the door.  “Just make sure you’re balancing things, you’re also human, we all are.” Yoongi finally said before you heard the door and the room fell silent. You heard him moving and finally sitting down on the chair where he usually does when you’re asleep. At least five minutes of silence went by. “I am scared.” He spoke, breaking the silence in the room. His voice was low, vulnerable. “I’m scared that if I blink, I’ll see you in my arms again, fighting to stay alive.” He paused, and you breathed in. “I’m scared that if I blink, you’ll be dead, and I promised I’d keep you safe.” You could hear the same pain in his voice from the day you woke up. “I’m so fucking scared that after this is over I’ll go back to being a shadow, someone you don’t know.” You rolled over to look at him, he tilted his head in your direction, unphased by your opened eyes looking at him “I have no idea why I feel this way, but we don’t choose what we feel, all I know is that I can’t stay away from you or stop thinking about you for one second and it scares the shit out of me.” He shook his head and looked down.  “Jungkook...” You started, and he looked at you.  “I’m scared that if I don’t focus on your safety, I’ll lose you and I can’t lose you.” He broke eye contact. “But how can I focus? How can I be aware of my surroundings when all I want is to look at you, touch you, kiss you?” You started squirming on the bed at his words. “How can I even focus when I can still remember how you smell? How you look under me?” He sighed. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up because there isn’t a second that goes by that I don’t wish we could go back to that bathroom and relive those moments again and again.” He finished. “Jungkook...” You spoke again, and he lifted his eyes. “Please... Please, kiss me.” You begged.  Jungkook stood up and quickly leaned over your body, one hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face and gently caress down the side of your cheek before he leaned in, nose brushing yours. You wish you could say you hated how keen you were towards him, sitting up and closing your eyes when his lips gently touched yours. A small gasp left your lips, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in and deepen the kiss. Your body immediately reacted, a soft whimper escaping you, and Jungkook was pulling back, nose still touching yours and eyes trained on your mouth.  “The things I want to do to you.” He whispered, closing his eyes and grazing the tip of his nose up and down yours before he was trailing down your neck, your body erupting in goosebumps as your nipples hardened under your loose shirt. “Tell me I can, tell me I can do everything to you, anything.” He whispered against your skin, lips touching your neck softly and you couldn’t control your body as you leaned into him for more.  “A-anything, please...” You whispered back, and that was enough confirmation he needed before he slipped one hand under your shirt, rough fingers tracing up your stomach and not wasting time before he cupped your breasts and started a slow yet sensual massage on them, you arched into his touch soft moans coming out of you.  “I love how sensitive you are to me.” He whispered against your neck, teeth biting into it softly as his fingers played with your nipples. “Do you know how much I wanted to fuck you in that training room?” He asked, kissing up and down your neck while his hand moves to the other breast. “You on top of me like that... I couldn’t stop picturing you riding me all day.” He pinched your nipple harder, and you jolted in our place, moaning at the pain. “I had to go hide in my room and jerk off to make sure I could function for the rest of the day.” The thought alone was enough to get you aching if you hadn’t been already the moment he kissed you, you could feel the way your heart was hot and aching already. He took in a deep breath, sliding his hand back down slowly and making you open your legs to give him access to where you wanted him.  “That’s one of the things that make me go crazy... Anything you do makes me want to shove you against a wall, a floor, a bed and fuck it out of my system.” He said between clenched teeth, hand reaching the hem of your underwear. “But how can I ever be focused like that? When I’m thinking about you cumming around me like that day again and again?” He pulled his head back, looking at you, and you opened your hazy eyes to look at him. He stopped his hand and went quiet, head tilting slightly before he breached the hem and slid his fingers down your folds. You threw your head back when his fingers reached your entrance, unaware of just how wet you were before his brows furrowed in agony. “Soaking. Fucking soaking.” He quickly brought his hand out from your underwear and slid his drenched fingers into his mouth. The whole sight had you fluttering and biting on your lower lip to keep you from whining. When he brought his fingers out, his eyes were dark, pupils were blown out completely and you shivered in your spot. Suddenly he was leaning back, manhandling you down the bed as he settled between your legs, pushing your thighs apart quickly and without giving you time to process, he pushed your underwear to the side and dived into you, tongue lapping up your folds.  You arched your back, a strangled moan leaving you as your thighs began to shake. It had been so long since someone went down on you and fuck was Jungkook doing a good job.  He was like a starved man, wanting to have his face between your legs ever since that day in the tent, he worked his tongue up and don your folds before he focused on your clit, tongue licking it softly and alternating to sucking on it. You were already so close to your edge that you started clawing at his hair, breathing harshly as you tried to make him stop.  “J-Jungkook, s-stop, I’m gonna cum.” You tried to keep your voice down, but you were far too gone to control your volume. If you wanted him to stop by saying that, it only had the opposite effect because Jungkook was doubling his effort. Mouth closing around our clit to suck and lick and finally bring you over the edge. You shook violently, eyes shutting closed as your mouth opened and strings of whimpers and moans left them, you latched your hand over it and bit down, trying to control them but Jungkook was only making you moan louder as, even after you had cum, he continued to suck on your clit, making you wince at the overstimulation. When you whined and tried to push him away, he pulled back, sitting up. You opened your hazy eyes looking at him, his chin was wet with your release and his lips were swollen deliciously. His eyes were dangerous and only made you want him more and before you could open your mouth to ask him you were shut up by his mouth on yours, tasting your own release on his tongue and whimpering, he pulled back, eyeing you.  “Do you taste yourself?” He whispered with a velvet toned voice. “Do you taste just how delicious you are?” Your hands came down and started palming him over his pants, noticing just how strained his erection was in it. You whined, aching for him. “F-fuck me... Please.” You begged and Jungkook smirked, pleased with your desperation. You whined again, pressing your palm down harder into his erection, making him groan.  “Fuck...” He cursed, biting on his lower lip to keep in his sounds. He leaned back, pulling his shirt over his head, and the sight had your mouth watering yet again. His toned abs and honey-kissed skin were sinful You could see the slight scars he carried and your fingers twitched with a desire to trace them.  Slowly and patiently, he reached down with one hand, undoing his pants and shoving them down enough to free his erection. He looked down at it, pumping it a few times and looking up at you. You brought both your hands up, pulling his face down into yours and kissing him gently. His tongue was soft against yours, tender. And suddenly you felt his tip against your entrance. A gasp escaped you as he pushed in. His length girthy and the slight burn it made you feel was delicious. He panted above you, clearly as affected as you. For a few moments he didn’t move, just allowing you to adjust before he slowly started pulling out and pushing back all the way in, bottoming out. Your back arched once more, feeling him so deep inside of you was overwhelming. Grabbing both your hands and pinning them above your head, he interlocked your fingers, hips grinding slowly into you and starting a torturous sensual pace. He rested his forehead against yours, lust-driven eyes looking back into your hazy ones as he fucked into you slowly. The drag of his erection inside of you was making your walls clench hard around him each time and soon it was getting harder for him to keep his sounds in as low breathy groans started to escape him. Soon, the room started to get hot, your skin feeling damp as you noticed the prickles of sweat on him, his pace starting to pick up as he the pleasure become too strong to control.  “You drive me insane.” He pulled back, leaning on one hand and holding your hip with his other.  In a bold move, you gripped his hand, pulling it upwards to rest around your throat. His eyes bulged slightly as he moves, but soon, they became dangerous.  “Little dove, little dove... Who would have known such a fragile girl could be so dirty.” He smirked before he slammed his hips into you, making you buck and moan loudly. “If you wanted to be fucked like a slut, all you had to do was ask.” He trusted hard once again, hitting deep inside of you and making you unable to control the volume of your moans. His grip tightened around your throat, making your body start to build up your release without you wanting to. You clenched hard around him and he groaned at the tightness.  “You’re going to cum again, already?” He started a fast pace into you, pelvis slamming against your ass and filling the room with lewd noises that surely could be heard throughout the hall. You felt the high approach you and Jungkook shook his head, an evil smirk on his lips as he panted above you. “If you want to cum again, you’ll have to beg.”  The dominance was sudden but welcomed. You felt at his mercy and you opened your mouth, voice hoars and weak.  “P-please, m-may I cum?” You begged.  “That was pathetic, little dove, you can do better than that.” He groaned when a rather delicious drag rubbed him just right. “Shit...” He cursed out, biting down on his lower lips.  “Please, Jungkook, please, please... let me cum around you, let me clench and make a mess all over you.” You closed your eyes to try to hold back your orgasm, and you felt his grip tighten around your throat.  “Fuck... Cum, cum with me.” And you gasped, body shaking violently under him before your vision turned white, high-pitched moans and arched back as your walls spasming and gushes of your release coating him while he fucked in and out of you until he stilled, twitching deep inside of you as he released and coated your walls. His groans were deep, breathy, and he rode out his and your orgasm before he stopped completely, letting his head hang on his shoulder and catch his breath. You looked up at him, eyes barely open and mouth swollen from how hard you bit on it. He shifted, falling beside you on the bed and closing his eyes while he still struggled to breathe.  You turned your head in his direction and he turned to you, opening his eyes and looking deeply into yours. You breathed in, nervous.  “I don’t know what’s going to happen... But, I really like you Jungkook and I know it’s dangerous, but I trust you with everything in me, as stupid as that sounds.” You chuckled. “I trust that you’ll always put my safety first, but please, don’t push me away.” You swallowed, and he sighed, hand coming up to reach for your cheeks and caress you while he was silent.  “I’m sorry.” He said, leaning in to catch your lips and kiss you softly.  You shook your head, smiling against him.  “It’s ok... Just don’t do it again.” You asked, and it was his turn to chuckle. You bit your lower lip, cheeks flushed as you looked at him. His pupils dilating at the sight.  “You’re going to be the death of me.” You reached the end of chapter three!  I just wanted to leave this here! It was a cover made by RU`s number one fan @minalovessaruma​ and I can’t say how thankful I am for her. She has always been RU’s number one hyper and I just love that she went out of her way to make this little piece along with two others! Special thank you to Mina! Much love! - May.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Thirty-Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: This chapter is very heavy. Trigger warning for implied incest, implied rape, forced prostitution, character death. There is no graphic images of rape or incest. All is implied. This chapter is very past!Cameron-centric, bls be careful when reading

Cameron was seventeen years old the first time he laid eyes on the golden eyed omega that was supposed to train him. He had been introduced to him by the name Darius and even if he had been here for several years, and Cameron was the bastard son of Asmadai, he offered Cameron the warmest smile.

Cameron gave him a tight grin. “I’m guessing you’re the one that’s going to be teaching me the ropes?”

Darius nodded. “That’s me. I’m Darius.”

“Oh, I’ve heard. However, I do not think I need to be ‘trained’.”

Darius’ face didn’t shift from his smile. If anything else, it just seemed a little amused, if a little sad. Cameron said, “Don’t give me that look. I don’t need the pity. I’ve known my job since I was young. I was always going to end up here. It’s fine. Either way, look at me. Who wouldn’t want to fuck me.”

“I do suppose that is one way of looking at it,” Darius remarked, looking Cameron over. “You are very attractive.”

“I know.”

Darius snorted and began leading Cameron through a set of double doors to a large room bathed in white and gold. Cameron looked appreciatively around, running his fingers along the silken furniture while he roamed around the room. “Not bad,” he said. “I didn’t think whores got paid this well.”

“This one does,” Darius replied. “I’m a favorite for a reason.”

Cameron looked at him. “I’m guessing that reason is because you’re hot?”

“Among other things, I imagine.”

Cameron wasn’t blind. Darius’ bright golden eyes and long waves were sure to be a favorite to many people. He just held little stock in appearances, himself. Darius was beautiful to him the way music sounded to his ears. Cameron went to settle on the couch, watching Darius move towards a small kitchen area where he started fixing himself something to drink. “Would you like some tea?”

“Do you have anything stronger?”

“Not with me, no. I’d rather not be inebriated in case my services are requested.”

Cameron thought on that. It did make sense, he supposed, but he also figured Darius would be getting fucked one way or another. “Wouldn’t you rather not remember it?”

Darius gave him a steady look. “No. I want to remember everything.”

-----

Cameron had kept himself busy for the last three months and it was still unnerving to be in the same room as Darius without any kind of ulterior motive on Darius’ part. Darius left him to his own devices at night and didn’t bother him. It was easier to get a night of sleep for the next day when he didn’t have Destris coming into his room to bother him every night.

But that didn’t stop Destris from bothering him any other time of the day. It just made it more difficult. Especially when Cameron seemed to be becoming a favorite amongst court ladies. Cameron offered lazy smiles to everyone he passed in the hallways. Lingering looks told him enough about who was going to end up filling his mother’s pockets by the end of the night.

Cameron’s muscles, as worn as they were on a daily basis, were defined, unlike the slender build Darius seemed to have. He had seen Darius in passing a few times that day, but they both had been too busy to speak much.

Cameron was leaving a lady’s chambers, buttoning up his shirt when he nearly ran into his brother. “Can I help you?” Cameron asked, annoyed.

Destris gave him a lazy smile. “Maybe later. What I want to know is why you are sleeping in that whore’s rooms when you have perfectly fine rooms of your own. My mother gave you the finest, and yet you settled for subpar trash?”

“Well,” Cameron said, “I’m sure our mother would much rather have a room where she doesn’t have to house her bastard. It’s best for the economy, don’t you think? Maybe she can turn it into a war room.”

That smile sharpened. “I think you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Why would I ever try to do that?” Cameron said. “You get my services for free.”

Destris’ hazel green eyes flicked around them before coming back to settle on Cameron’s face. “I do,” he said. “And I do not like having to come find you when you should be in your own bed.”

“I do apologize,” Cameron said. “I just think it would be best to be near my trainer. Since he is more experienced than I. What if I have questions? Whomever would I go to when I need to learn how to properly suck a cock?”

Cameron didn’t blink when Destris shoved him back against the wall, fingers curling tightly around Cameron’s throat. “I don’t know who you think you are.” he hissed. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re on your knees for. Understand? I am the only thing between life and your death. I own you.”

Cameron couldn’t form words even if he wanted to. The air in his lungs protested at the lack of oxygen to his brain. His eyes trained to the floor, even if he wasn’t an omega. He tried nodding against his brother’s claws. When Destris finally pulled back, it took all of Cameron’s strength to not start coughing. Destris looked pleased at what were surely new bruises around his neck. “You will be making up for your back talking when I see you again, tonight. Better get going. I’m sure there are plenty waiting for you to warm their bed.”

-----

Darius wasn’t quite sure how Cameron had managed to con his way into Darius’ chambers when he had his own in another part of the castle. But Cameron was now camped out on his couch with one of the silken throw blankets almost every night.

He hadn’t bothered to try and keep Cameron out of his rooms. Part of him wondered if Cameron would just find his own way into the room, or just force his way in and Darius didn’t want to bother replacing door knobs or locks every time Cameron would get in here. And oddly enough, Darius didn’t mind when Cameron slept on his couch.

Darius had finished his shower and was getting dressed when Cameron came through the doors as if he owned the place, but Darius didn’t say anything while Cameron unbuttoned his black shirt and slacks to settle on the couch; not when there were prominent bruises in choice places on Cameron’s pale body.

Darius quietly sat a cup of tea and a plate of food on the coffee table in front of Cameron but didn’t try to offer any words, not when there was the aura of lethality around him. Instead he settled in a chair across from him while Cameron turned into the couch. The finger-like bruises wrapping around his throat were hidden when Cameron pulled the blanket over his head.

Darius almost offered to see if he wanted a healer, but instinct enough told him that Cameron wouldn’t want one. Even with no power of his own, Cameron seemed to relish any kind of control he could get his hands on, even if control over his own body was scant at best.

“If you would like,” Darius said, hesitantly, “I can have your clothes brought here? That way you don’t have to go across the manor to get them every day.”

Cameron remained quiet, and didn’t move an inch. Just when Darius thought that Cameron was going to ignore him, Cameron hoarsely said, “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

Darius took a long drink from his tea, thinking about how sharp those words sounded. “It would be practical.” Darius said, “I have some tea here for you- it might help your throat.”

Cameron stiffened slightly but snapped the blanket off himself and sat up to stare at Darius. The black bruising against his skin clashing darkly against the gold and silver blanket hanging off his shoulder. “Oh will it? I’m sure you’ve had enough things rammed down your throat to know.”

Darius didn’t blink. “Yes I have. You have too, yes?” Cameron rolled his eyes and picked up the cup from the table and scented it. “There’s no poison, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Cameron flicked him an annoyed look. “What a shame,” he said, dryly. “What about honey? I guess I can settle for that.”

Darius smiled. “I have honey you can use.”

“Good,” Cameron said, curtly, getting up smoothly from the couch to move to the kitchen area where he poured a healthy dose of honey into the earl grey tea. “It’s like you have no taste buds,” Cameron complained.

“Well,” Darius said. “I cannot cook. So, I do tend to hold little stock of what kinds of things I cook outside of what I need.”

He bit back his snort when Cameron looked at him with disgust. “Are you saying I need to feed you?”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Darius said.

Cameron arched a brow while taking a drink from his cup. “I think you are,” he said. “Why else would you tell me you can’t cook? I’ll do it.”

“You really don’t have to-” Darius started.

“Too late, it’s done,” Cameron said, turning back to the kitchenette. “I’ll make a list of things you need, but I can do that later. It’s too late to do shit right now.”

“Indeed,” Darius said, getting up to put his tea cup and the untouched plate of food away. “We both should probably get some sleep.”

Cameron nodded, taking another drink from his tea cup before hesitating slightly and looking at him. “Can… you can say no- nevermind. It’s fine.”

“What?” Darius asked, looking at him. “Would you like me to get a healer? Or some more blankets?”

Cameron still looked uncomfortable, but shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Cameron.”

“Darius.”

“How can I help you?” When Cameron just chewed on his lip, eyes trained onto the ground, Darius took a tentative step towards him and cradled Cameron’s cheek. Cameron’s entire body locked into place. “Please?”

Cameron’s nostrils flared, but he still wouldn’t meet Darius’ gaze. “Can I sleep with you?”

Darius blinked. That was. Not what he was expecting. “I-”

“Not sex,” Cameron said, instantly, looking up finally. “I just. I don’t want to be alone. I understand if you don’t want to, though.”

“You want to share my bed?”

“I- yeah.”

Darius forced his eyes to not linger on the bruising still so prominent on Cameron’s pale skin. “Of course you can,” he finally said. “I’m sure it’s more comfortable then the couch you’ve been sleeping on anyways.”

Cameron looked visibly relieved. “Thank you.”

----

Even if it was cloudy out, Darius had found himself with a free afternoon with Asmadai and her cabal gone. Cameron had chosen this free time to sit at the piano studiously for the last hour playing, and Darius had listened contentedly until he started getting restless. And if he didn’t stop Cameron, then Cameron was going to sit at that damned piano for another three hours playing.

Darius sidled up next to him and drew the piano case down. Cameron’s long fingers snapped back before they got stuck under the weight, shooting Darius a dirty look. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” Darius said. “We have the day free to do as we wish.”

“Yes? And? I’m using that time to play.”

“You play every day,” Darius pointed out. “Come out with me. We can go have a picnic by ourselves and get some fresh air.”

Cameron looked blankly at him. “A picnic?” he echoed.

“Yes.”

“That sounds absolutely horrific. It’s not even sunny out.”

“Just humor me,” Darius said.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to have a picnic all on my lonesome.” The flat look Cameron gave him had a smile tilting up on Darius’ face. “I’ll let you pick out the snacks.”

Cameron looked so pained. “Fine.”

----

Cameron was still annoyed by the time they had left the manor half an hour later, even if Darius seemed pleased with himself. Luckily it was still early enough in the summer that Cameron didn’t have to worry about it getting too cold yet. The winters in the Court could be brutal and even he didn’t enjoy it.

They ended up finding some hill to sit on that was on the outskirts of the city, away from prying eyes. Cameron let Darius sprawl the blanket out on the grass and spread the food out before Cameron sat down and squinted around him. “Are we supposed to just… sit here and eat? We could do this back in our room,” he said. “There is no point of doing this out here.”

“It’s for the aesthetic, Cameron,” Darius said, looking into the basket of food Cameron had packed. “The ambiance.”

“It’s cloudy,” Cameron said, reaching for his own food. “The ambiance is tainted by shitty weather, Darius.”

Darius hummed and bit into his sandwich. “Mm. I think you’ve just been cooped inside for too long. Your already pale complexion is even more pale. However will you get the vitamin D that you need for a healthy body.”

“By dick in my ass, I imagine,” Cameron muttered under his breath.

“Wrong vitamin,” Darius said. “Interestingly enough, that’s vitamin C. Amongst other things.”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “I’ll remember that next time my face is in a mattress.”

“What is it you want, Cameron?” Darius asked, looking up at the idiotically grey sky. “If you could have anything, be anyone, right now, what would it be.”

“Does it matter?” Cameron said, laying on his back, closing his eyes. “Wanting things has never been in my vocabulary. It’s irrelevant and a waste of time. I’m not even a person. Tools of war have but one purpose. To cause damage.”

He could feel Darius’ brilliant gold eyes on him, and Cameron didn’t like it. “Well,” Darius said, softly. “I think you have done the least amount of damage to me out of everyone I have ever come in contact with.”

Cameron opened his eyes and looked at him tiredly. “For now,” he said, softly enough, Cameron almost hated both himself and Darius.

Darius just laid down next to him and folded his hands over his stomach. “I think I want a place of my own,” he said. “I’d like a family, children. Sure, it could be because I’m an omega. But I think… I just want a family. Never had one.”

Family’s overrated, Cameron almost felt compelled to say. Instead he offered Darius the mercy of hopeless causes. “Sounds nice,” he said, mildly. “I guess… I’d just want to be left alone to cook and make music. That’s all I want. Not going to get it, so I don’t waste my breath. But… it’d be nice.”

Darius nudged him. “I think you’re getting the hang of it.”

Cameron closed his eyes again. “”Don’t touch me.”

-----

A month later and Darius was still letting Cameron sleep in his bed. Every night since that first night Cameron asked, and every night, Darius said yes. But there were some where Cameron never came back to the room at all. Darius didn’t have the bravery to ask Cameron about it, especially when Cameron seemed to be more distant those next mornings. But Darius always provided Cameron tea and honey when he came back.

They had both been reading for hours by the time Cameron’s services were requested. Darius read in the same spot for several more hours before Cameron came back. Cameron returned to sit next to him on the couch, watching Darius tiredly. Darius offered him no words, not wanting to break Cameron’s silence.

Eventually Darius felt the weight of Cameron’s head against his shoulder. He dared to look over, careful to not move too much. As he thought, Cameron had fallen asleep, his white hair falling over his closed eyes, smoothing out the perpetual annoyed look on his face.

Darius resisted the urge to move the hair away from Cameron’s elegant face, but remained in control of his impulses. Instead he turned back to his book and felt himself smile when Cameron settled more against him. Darius awkwardly reached for the throw blanket and threw it around Cameron’s bare shoulders before turning back to his book.

----

“Okay, but you learn absolutely nothing from those books,” Cameron said, looking distastefully at the paperback romance novel in Darius’ hands. “It’s pure fantasy. Life’s too bloody and miserable for anything like that to come true.”

“Okay,” Darius said. “But consider this. That’s the point. It’s a fantasy, it’s something to hope for some day. Sure, a whirlwind romance like the one in this book could be hard to imagine, but that doesn’t mean romance in the world is dead. Nothing can kill true love, no matter how hard some try.”

Cameron gave him a long, skeptical look, but elected to not tell him that love didn’t exist. “I still think the right books are the ones where you actually learn something. Otherwise it’s just a waste of time and paper.”

“Not everyone can read just nonfiction like you can, Cameron.”

“That’s because not everyone has good taste,” Cameron said, propping his legs up on Darius’ lap, eyes turning back to his own book. “Not only is it useful, I am not wasting my time chasing fantasies.”

Darius sighed softly and just patted Cameron’s leg. “It must be quite exhausting in your head, my Cameron.”

Cameron glowered at him over his book. “No more exhausting than in yours, I imagine, my nuisance. It’s a special kind of hell chasing fantasies when you should be focusing on survival.”

“Oh Cameron,” Darius said, softly. “There is so much more to life than surviving.”

-------

It was a rare night when both Cameron and Darius had the same time off. Cameron had made the habit of fixing them both dinner in the evenings, even when they both weren’t in the room at the same time. It was the only way Cameron could convince himself to eat.

He could feel Darius staring at him while they ate. Cameron pretended to not notice how Darius’ sneaking looks kept lingering on his face. Finally Cameron looked up from his meal and met his gaze steadily. “Is there a particular reason you are staring at me?”

Darius didn’t even blink. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Cameron rose a brow. “Yes, I am. But that doesn’t explain why you are staring at me when you’ve seen my face every night for the last four months.”

“Okay,” Darius said, annoyed enough Cameron’s mouth lifted. “I’m staring at you because I want to kiss you. Haven’t done that in the last four months.”

Cameron blinked. “You- why? I mean I know why, as I have seen my reflection, but-”

“Believe it or not, I do appreciate your company.”

He was annoyed. “Well as long as you appreciate it-”

Darius leaned over and covered Cameron’s mouth with his golden hand. “Cameron. Let me- just. Please stop talking.” Cameron glared at him, but didn’t snap his wrist at the unneeded censorship. Darius gave him a firm look before removing his hand. “Whether you want to believe it or not… I know you feel the same way too. You don’t… you don’t have to act on it, or you can even leave if you want. But just. Don’t lie, not about this. About me. Because I’m your truth.”

For the first time, Cameron had to force himself to hold those golden eyes. He… He didn’t know what he felt. Was- Did he feel safe? Was that how Darius made him feel? He made him feel warm, not like a walking corpse, not used. But… That didn’t mean anything, did it? It just meant he was decent enough to not pay Cameron to take him to bed. “I… don’t know what that means. I don’t know what you mean to me. You’re just. I don’t know what you are. You’re just not my enemy. I’m safe with you.”

“You are safe with me,” Darius said.

“But are you safe with me,” Cameron countered.

Darius seemed to think about that. Cameron stared him down for what felt like an eternity before Darius said, “You live a very bloody life, Cameron. I think I’d be a fool to think I was ever completely safe, even with you. But that doesn’t stop me from caring about you, from wanting you in whatever way you’ll have me.”

“There are so, so many more people that you could want, Darius,” Cameron said. “Or is it because I am Asmadai’s bastard that you’re interested.”

Darius looked genuinely hurt and taken aback. “No, of course not. I have no desire to have her ear. I just want you.”

Cameron stared at him. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, at a loss of words. How the fuck was he supposed to answer this. He felt like there should be some kind of catch. There had to be, but he couldn’t figure out what if it wasn’t because Darius wanted at his mother. “I have been nothing but a pain in the ass to you,” he finally said.

“A cross I am willing to bear,” he said, solemnly.

“I…” Cameron sighed sharply. “I don’t know.. How to be what you want.”

“You make it sound like I actually know how a relationship is supposed to go,” Darius pointed out.

“Don’t your fancy romance novels tell you,” Cameron said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“I thought you said those were a fantasy?”

“They are,” Cameron said, flatly.

“Then I don’t see why we can’t work together to figure it- us- out,” Darius said. “Since romance novels seem to not be construction manuals.”

Cameron gnawed on his lip. “But why. I don’t understand why.”

“Why I like you? Care for you?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, exasperated.

“That is a good question,” Darius mused. “One I do not know the answer to. I just like you. You amuse me, keep me company. You make sure I don’t starve. Surely that has to count for something.”

“Are you saying you want me because I can cook.”

“Oh absolutely.”

“Well at least that makes sense,” Cameron muttered under his breath.

“I know what you’re doing,” Darius said. “And it’s not going to keep working.”

“I think it’s working quite well,” Cameron replied.

“I’m sure you do, however, we are all allowed to be wrong sometimes.”

“I am not wrong,” Cameron snapped.

Darius smiled. “Then prove it.”

Cameron’s nostrils flared. “You’re mocking me and I do not like it.”

“Am I?”

“Yes you are,” Cameron said, knowing damn well Darius was baiting him. “I think you like making a fool out of me.”

Darius’ eyes glittered in amusement and Cameron frowned. Darius leaned forward and cradled Cameron’s face, sending a jolt of electricity through his core. Cameron looked down, trying to ignore the tingling in his face. “Look at me?”

Cameron forced his eyes up. The words died in his throat.

Cameron somehow felt warm and ice cold at the same time. He was sitting too still and he was too restless. He wanted… he didn’t know what he wanted. To run or to stay. He wasn’t sure if he felt safe or not, but he didn’t see any threats, his mind was betraying him, looking for an out, but there was only Darius. “What?” he rasped.

The way Darius looked at him had Cameron wanting to shatter something. “What are you feeling, right now?”

“I already told you. I think you like making a fool out of me.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Cameron could almost taste the metallic flavor of his venom. “Threatened,” Cameron finally said. “I’m feeling threatened and I don’t know why.”

Darius stilled just slightly enough Cameron straightened. “Do you want me to move my hand?” he asked.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you want?”

Cameron gazed at him in silence. That was the question, wasn’t it. He couldn’t very well just say him, that would make Darius his, and that would mean he would be Destris’ and Cameron couldn’t do anything against his brother. It had been well trained into him since he was seven years old.

“I want…” Cameron’s voice faltered. He closed his mouth. “I can’t want anything.”

“Cameron.”

The last of his nerves frayed. “Don’t you get it,” he snapped. “I can’t want anything. I can’t want you, I can’t want my own kitchen or a damn piano or anything. I am not a person. You are not a person. We are not people. We are tools for the elite to warm beds, or in my case to slit throats when my father wishes. If I so much as try to want something Destris will find out and he will take it away from me. He will have me on my knees one way or another, Darius, and that makes you a liability.”

Darius tried for a small smile. “Are you saying I’m important to you?”

“I’m saying you make it extremely inconvenient to be me,” Cameron said, crossly. “You’re not… supposed to. Make me feel like- you’re not supposed to make me feel. It’s a distraction. You are a distraction.”

“A distraction from what?”

“Survival.” The faint way Darius’ thumb brushed against Cameron’s cheek made Cameron shiver. “You are a threat to me and I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Darius said, pressing his forehead against Cameron’s. “I need you to take what you want. To do what you want. To do more than survive. You deserve to live, Cameron. You deserve more than what you have been given.”

The cinnamon and thyme scent filled his nose and Cameron closed his eyes. “No I don’t,” he said, weakly. “I don’t deserve anything just because I’m alive. I am a bastard. In the eyes of every single demon of the realm, I am not a person.”

“You are to me,” Darius said, softly.

Cameron looked at him for what felt like an eternity. “Then you’re a fool,” he said. Cameron leaned over, hesitated only slightly before kissing him on the mouth. The softness of Darius’ slightly parted lips undone him in a way that had Cameron abruptly pulling back and staring at him.

His breath was shallow and he could barely breathe. Darius somehow looked alarmed and perfectly calm at the same time, but Cameron didn’t give him the chance to say anything before getting to his feet and stalking out of the room.

Cameron nearly bulldozed into several court people on his way outside. He reached for a pack of cigarettes he had in his pockets and had one half lit before the familiar hazel green eyes appeared in front of him. “I do hope you have a plan on fixing your teeth if you’re going to smoke those. Mother will not be happy if your value drops because of yellow teeth.”

Cameron didn’t have the energy to quip at him. Instead he just took a singular drag from his cigarette and tiredly said, “Of course. Mustn’t damage the merchandise. Many do enjoy being bitten in bed.”

“Mm. Do you?”

“Does it matter if I do or not?”

“Not really, but I thought I’d humor you.” When Cameron didn’t say anything, Destris took his chin and forced Cameron to meet his eyes. “Are you ill?” he mused. “Perhaps you lost the ability to use your tongue. Should I see?”

“If you choose so,” Cameron said, mildly. “I can assure you my skills are up to par. Just in a sour mood, that’s all.”

“I might take you up on that later,” Destris said. “It is your day off after all. You need your rest.”

“Much appreciated,” Cameron said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I do not think so. Just wanted to make sure my idiot toy isn’t doing something stupid like permenantly marring his body.”

---

Darius waited up for hours upon hours, nearly reaching into daylight for Cameron to come back, not even knowing if Cameron was going to come back. But when he finally did, Cameron was back to his normal untouchable self. He seemed to have regained that faux composure he had spent the last seventeen years perfecting. Even if he did stumble a little when he locked eyes with Darius. “You’re still awake,” was all Cameron said. “I’ve been gone for nearly eight hours.”

“I wanted to be awake in case you came back.”

“Why wouldn’t I come back,” Cameron said, mildly.

“Why would you bolt like a rabbit after kissing me?”

Cameron worked his jaw. “Apparently becuase I thrive on making stupid decisions.”

Darius couldn’t help the way his mouth lifted at the corner. “I don’t think you made a stupid decision.”

“Of course you don’t,” Cameron said. “You wanted me to kiss you. And now I broke the rules. For another whore. One who quite possibly has the power to destroy me.”

Darius gave him a long, steady look. He didn’t think anything could possibly destroy Cameron. He was still standing now despite life and he would still be standing a thousand years from now despite a thousand lives. “You kissed me because you wanted to.”

Cameron didn’t even blink; his face didn’t even move, either. Cameron just met Darius’ look for look and there was pure alpha in those pale blue eyes. It was an effort to not give into his own instincts and bare his throat, especially when Cameron appeared much closer in front of him. He wasn’t sure who moved first or if they had always been this close. Cameron gripped Darius’ chin and glared down at him. “Don’t put a knife in my back,” he said, softly.

I won’t if you won’t, Darius thought, as if he actually had the power or the training to be able to do so. Darius put a hesitant hand on Cameron’s tapered waist. His skin was somehow warm and ice cold at the same time, just as heated and frigid as his stare. “Okay,” he said, in equal softness.

“Okay,” Cameron said, firmly. He let go of Darius’ chin and hesitated only slightly before letting the ice thaw on his face. “This… whatever this is,” Cameron said, “Is between us. Outside of these rooms, we are nothing. We are no one. You are nothing to me. Understand? I cannot and will not protect you if it comes down to it. Your survival is up to you and you alone.”

“I completely understand,” Darius said, other hand moving to Cameron’s other side. He waited for Cameron to move, to say something, but he kept watching Darius with those eyes before slowly letting out a soft breath and pressing his forehead against Darius’ shoulder.

----

Cameron had spent the last several hours wandering through the different shops in the Court, finding… something. He would know when he found it, Cameron had thought. He ended up in a jewelry shop eyeing the watches and bracelets. The branding tattoo on his wrist almost felt like it was on fire, but he wasn’t here for him.

Cameron finally settled in front of a display of slender black and silver watches. He was aware that neither color matched Darius’ rooms, but perhaps Darius would appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

The jeweler came over and eyed Cameron over the counter. “How can I help you?”

“How much for this one?” he asked.

He looked at Cameron for far longer than Cameron cared for before looking down at the watch. “This is not for sale.”

Cameron heard the ‘not for your kind’ loud as day. Cameron narrowed his eyes. “How much would you want for it? I have the money.”

“Tainted money,” the demon said.

“Oh don’t worry,” Cameron said, “I washed the coins after I was done spreading my legs.” Cameron gave a sharp smile at the faint look of disgust on his face. “If you’d like, I can clean it again. Though, I do not think where you get money is that important. Profit is profit.”

“I don’t sell to whores,” the demon said, flatly. “Bad for business.”

“Would you if I was on my knees?”

The demon’s mouth opened but promptly closed when a voice mildly said, “Perhaps you would sell it to me, then.” Destris came up beside him and snaked an arm around Cameron’s neck, giving the jeweler a lazy smile. “Surely Asmadai’s heir is someone you’ll sell to. Now denying me would be bad for both your business and your life.”

“Of course, of course,” the demon rushed out. “Special price, just for you, prince.”

Cameron bit back his scoff. Destris was about as close to a prince as he was. Just because his mother was in charge of the hellbeasts of the Obsidian Court did not make her a queen. But he wisely said nothing and kept his face smoothed out while Destris bought the watch for him.

Outside the shop, Destris put the bag in Cameron’s arms. “I didn’t take you one for jewelry, Cam.”

Cameron chose his words carefully. “I thought it wise to own a timepiece. Never know when I’ll be able to need the time. All these clients; need to make sure to be punctual.”

Destris’ long, considering look had Cameron’s bones freezing in place. “Well,” he said, “I’m sure now you’ll be on time for our appointments, then.”

Cameron dipped his head. “Of course.”

---

Darius had barely had an hour to himself before he was finally able to retreat back to his rooms. The doors were shut when he started peeling out of his clothes on the way to the washroom, where Cameron was already waiting. Darius blinked. “Are you joining me?”

Cameron’s slightly raised brow only had Darius more confused. That didn’t stop him from finishing undressing, and that certainly didn’t stop Cameron from coming over behind him and unpinning Darius’ hair, letting it fall back down around his shoulders. “No,” he finally said, “however I thought I would offer my services in getting you clean.”

“Hmm.” Darius couldn’t stop the small smile. “Okay. But,” he said, “I want to wash you, too. And your wings. Please?”

Cameron gave him a long, long considering, almost bewildering look. “I- my wings?”

“If that’s alright?”

If Darius didn’t know any better, he’d say that Cameron almost looked flustered, but Cameron just began unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his pale shoulders. Darius felt the breath leave his body when Cameron unfurled his wings. Black and leathery with the faintest purples and silvers. Cameron gave him an odd look. “What? They’re just wings.”

“But they’re your wings,” Darius said.

Cameron gave him an unimpressed look, but he didn’t miss the way Cameron’s mouth tilted upwards. “I suppose anything on me would be exceptional,” he said as he finished shedding his clothes.

Darius hummed to himself and watched Cameron run the water for the large tub and expertly choose fragrances to put in the water. The room filled with the faintest scent of citrus and cinnamon while Cameron went for soft towels and rags. Darius went to slide into the tub, watching Cameron’s back move against his wings. He could count only once or twice in the last several months he even saw a glimpse of them.

By the time Cameron came back, Darius had already submerged part of his hair under the water and had moved back so Cameron could get in with him. Cameron eyed him the way a painter would a blank canvas before finally saying, “Turn around.”

Darius did as instructed and listened as Cameron wetted a rag and began washing across his shoulders and down his back. Cameron so carefully parted Darius’ hair so he could get to his neck and Darius could not stop the small purr at the feeling.

Cameron only stilled for a split second before continuing once again. Not even a moment after Cameron put Darius’ hair back did Darius feel Cameron move to tilt his head back so he could pour water over his hair.

He did his best to not melt into Cameron when Cameron started lathering shampoo in his hair. Cameron’s long, nimble fingers were skilled. Though Darius already knew that from the amount of time he had watched Cameron play piano. While he managed to keep himself from melting, he was not able to stop his purr from getting louder, but Cameron seemed to not mind and kept washing Darius’ hair.

Cameron’s voice startled Darius into opening his eyes. “Turn around.”

Once again Darius did as instructed and turned back to face Cameron. The steam of the tub had Cameron’s hair dripping in his slightly flushed face. Without thinking, Darius reached over to tug the white strands out of his eyes. “There,” he said, softly.

Cameron’s flickering gaze had Darius leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to Cameron’s jaw before letting him get back to work. His eyes wandered back to Cameron’s wings, to the sharp talons, while Cameron continued running the soft rag down Darius’ arms.

“Could I convince you to show your wings in the room more?” Darius asked, curiously.

Cameron’s face turned thoughtful, considering the question while he continued his work. “Oh, I’m sure you could think of something,” he finally said. “You do have a way with words.”

Darius couldn’t help the smile blooming on his face. “I think that was a compliment.”

“Do you?” Cameron asked, eyes flicking to his for a split second. “I’m sure you would.”

“Mm. I’m right.”

“If you say so,” Cameron said, mildly, pouring fresh water over Darius’ freshly cleaned skin.

“I’d offer to make you food, but I think you’d rather I didn’t.”

“Mmm. No,” Cameron said, rolling his shoulders. “Food poisoning is not high on my priority list.”

“Tea?”

Cameron thought on it, pale blue eyes fixed on him steadily. “What else you got?”

Darius thought on it. He didn’t think he’d genuinely get this far. But he was going to run with it if it meant he could see more of Cameron’s wings. “You can have more room for your books,” he said. “Even if they are so dull.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched. “I do not think you are good at maintaining your position, Darius.”

Darius couldn’t help how he bit his lip. “Well what would you like, then.”

Cameron’s smile widened a bit more. “I do not know,” he said. “Why don’t you keep offering me things and I’ll see how far I can get.”

Darius whined softly. “Cameronn.”

“Dariuss.”

Darius frowned. “You’re mocking me now.”

Cameron lifted a single, perfect brow. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Yes it is,” Darius mumbled under his breath, but he went for the rag and began to wash Cameron’s silky skin. Cameron’s amused look had Darius wrinkling his nose. “I will give you whatever you’d like, within reason, of course.”

“Mmm. Dangerous offer, Darius.”

Darius held Cameron’s gaze steadily. “I trust you.”

Cameron didn’t blink at Darius’ quiet truth. “I think all I want is a ‘please’.”

“A- what?”

Cameron smiled at him. “That’s all I want.”

“Please?”

“Please what?” Cameron asked, leaning forward to let Darius at his neck to wash.

Darius ran the rag over his skin, inhaling Cameron’s faint citrusy scent. “Please let me see your wings in our room. They’re too beautiful to be kept hidden away.”

“One would say every part of me is too beautiful,” Cameron said, mildly.

“Well, yes,” Darius said, “But your wings are exceptionally beautiful. And I so rarely get to see more than a glimpse of them.”

Cameron took Darius’ chin into his fingers and considered him for what felt like eons. He could feel something tighten and solidify in his core when Cameron leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss. “Very well,” he said. “Since you said ‘please’.”

Darius smiled at that look, and motioned for Cameron to let Darius at his hair. He ran water through the silky strands and washed delicately. He took care and treated them as if they were made of eggshells. He washed out the shampoo, conditioner and moved to his long, pale limbs and washed them just as delicately. Even if Cameron’s skin was flawless, Darius knew just what kind of damage the alpha could do at a mere seventeen years old.

More than anything, Darius wished he could protect him from his fate, but he knew Cameron would not appreciate the sentiment, so he kept doing what he was and washed the invisible marks from Cameron’s body and motioned for him to turn around.

Darius sucked in a breath when he took a long look at Cameron’s wings. “Can… May I touch?”

Cameron inclined his head, wings spreading slightly. “Yes. Just. Be careful.”

Darius hummed and lightly ran the rag over the long, thin bones, eyes trailing over the light silver veins tracing through the black and purple leathery skin. Cameron went almost… limp at the feeling of his wings being washed. He knew what level of trust Cameron was putting in him, and he had no intention of breaking it.

-----

A few hours later and Cameron was watching Darius read one of his useless books. He had been debating how to do this the last several hours and decided to just do it now before he lost any nerve he had. Owing Destris for this would be for nothing if he didn’t give the watch to Darius.

“Darius.”

“Mm?” he said, not looking up from his book.

Cameron went over and replaced the cup of tea in Darius’ hand with the small box. “Open.”

Darius looked down at the small box before looking up at him. He looked almost bewildered, but looked back down at the box and slowly began to open it. The watch was shining in the silver wrapping paper. “Oh,” he said, softly. “I- thank you, Cameron. It’s lovely.”

Cameron wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he just opted for a terse nod. “I saw it in the window and thought you’d have use for it.”

Darius gave him a far too knowing look, but just smiled. “I love it nonetheless,” he said, solemnly. “Help me put it on?”

Cameron moved down to his knees and took the box from him. “I know it’s not your typical aesthetic, but I figured you’d appreciate it anyway.”

“I do,” Darius said, extending an elegant hand.

Cameron carefully removed the watch from the box and clasped it, carefully covering up the branding on Darius’ wrist. “You probably couldn’t… wear it outside of the room often,” Cameron said, looking up at him. “But...”

Darius seemed to hesitate only slightly before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to Cameron’s forehead. Cameron did his best to not screw up his face at the sentiment and allowed it briefly before pulling back. The way Darius’ eyes shone was enough to endure the payment that he was sure Destris would take out of him for it. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, getting to his feet.

“I love it.”

----

Cameron spent that night with Destris, and then he spent the next several days between Destris and other clients. He barely saw Darius the whole time and the only time he did was when he came back to sleep. He barely ate unless Darius bullied him into it, and even then it took much persuasion on Darius’ part to get him to eat.

Cameron finally came back to the rooms after seeing a copy of himself leaving the room. But those same pale blue eyes shifted to the hauntingly familiar hazel green and it had Cameron stopping in his tracks, schooling his face into neutrality. “Have I forgotten an appointment?”

“No,” Destris said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “But I must say, I did not think the watch I paid for would be given to a common whore. Though, he did pay well for it as well. So I think I can let it slide. This time.”

Cameron blinked, and he opened his mouth before promptly closing it. He didn’t know what to say, and the ice slicing through his veins made him very aware he needed to say absolutely nothing. “Thank you,” he finally said, voice carefully neutral.

Destris gave him a spidery smile before walking around Cameron, his form shifting back to his own slowly. Cameron closed his eyes, sighing softly and bracing himself before going into the bedroom. Darius was sleeping on the bed, clearly naked beneath the throw blanket covering his lower half. Cameron’s throat closed when Darius awoke to look at him, confused. “You’re back already?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, numbly. “I decided to just come to bed, instead.”

Darius gave him a small, pleased smile and laid back down in the bed. Cameron changed into his pajamas, not feeling himself do it before climbing in the bed next to him. The smell of sex clung to Darius, and even if that was his job, this didn’t- this wasn’t the same. And Cameron couldn’t voice this, especially when Darius moved over to curl into Cameron’s side, falling back asleep almost instantly.

--------

Tuathal had never liked the Obsidian Court. It stunk of power and desperation to keep it, and it made his skin crawl with memories he didn’t want to touch. But Asmadai had asked for a meeting, and for now he needed to keep the peace.

Just in case, though, he’d brought his brother along. Cináed made a wonderful distraction, especially when he couldn’t be bothered to put on a shirt. He looked the part of a halfbreed, radiating his own power, and not power he had to steal. In comparison, Tu with his neatly pulled back hair and calm demeanor seemed the civilized brother.

While Tuathal sat, listening to Asmadai try to sell him on lending her his support. Not that he had any intention of giving her what she wanted, but it was good to seem like he was considering it. He knew damn well his magic was a coveted asset, but his plans revolved around ending this war, not prolonging it with more infighting.

Behind her, her son lurked, pale as snow, and an obvious attempt to be an enticing addition to the offer. Asmadai had no way of knowing Tuathal could never be swayed by a pretty face; he’d never been interested in sex, and that was not going to change for this young demon. Besides, he looked barely in his twenties, if that. Tuathal had centuries on him.

While Tu listened to Asmodai, nodding along as he braced his chin on his fingers, Cin wandered the room, poking his nose where it didn’t belong, passing close enough to the demon and her son that he could sniff at the both. They seemed unimpressed by the way Cin bared his fangs in a grin at them.

“Cináed,” Tuathal warned mildly. “No nibbling.”

Behind Asmadai, her son lifted his brow ever so slightly, the faintest of amusement showing up in his face, even as Cin growled at Tu.

“Cin,” Tu said, voice soft, and laced with a threat of his own.

This time Cin settled with a grumble, returning to Tu’s side as Tuathal stood.

After tugging on one of Cin’s golden curls, Tuathal fixed Asmadai with a level look. “I’ll have to think about your offer,” he said smoothly. It wasn’t a lie. There was plenty to be gained from picking apart just why and how she thought to go through with her plans. “I’ll let you know if I’m interested.” He wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that until he had his brother safely away from her claws. Demons had done enough to Tuathal; they didn’t need the opportunity to do the same to Cináed.

Asmadai reached up to drag her fingers down her son’s jaw, not taking her eyes off of Tuathal. “I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

Tu didn’t even give her the respect of a bow. He turned away, knowing Cin was following on his heels. They didn’t say a word until they were free of the Obsidian Court. As soon as they were, Cin’s teeth found Tu’s shoulder, the pressure questioning.

“What did you think?” Cin asked, some of the playfulness fading from his sharp golden eyes.

“I think she’s a bitch, and can go fuck herself,” Tu replied, pulling his hair down with a frown. He ran his fingers through it once or twice to loosen it up, and then added, “Though she seems a bitch who might rise high. I’ll keep an eye out for her in the futures.”

“Probably a wise decision,” Asmadai’s son said from behind. It took a few moments for Tu to place a name; he hadn’t bothered to care in the room with her, but it seemed rude to not know now.

Cin shifted subtly in front of Tu, eyeing Cameron with the same feral look to him that Cin always wore in front of others. Cameron was unphased, but Tu already expected that. “Can I help you?” Tu asked instead of responding to Cameron’s comment.

“I’m here to offer myself to both of you,” was all Cameron said.

Tu bit back a snort. “Your services aren’t needed,” he replied. This was not a demon who had harmed him. He had no reason to be cruel. “You can let your mother know I’m not interested.”

Cameron’s icy gaze shifted to Cin. “And you?”

Cin met his stare, washed out gold clashing with pale blue. “I prefer my partners willing. I don’t pay to sleep with anyone.”

“I don’t intend to take your money.”

“And I don’t take bribes,” Cin replied dismissively. He headbutted Tu’s shoulder. “I want to go home.”

Tu stared at Cameron for a long time, chasing down flickers of the future. He knew Cameron’s answer before he opened his mouth. “I could buy you from her,” he offered quietly. “I don’t lack the funds.”

He could see the gears turning in the young demon’s head, and despite so many futures telling him Cameron would say no, he had to hope he might say yes. But when Cameron answered, all he said was, “You couldn’t afford me.” Here the demon hesitated. “But there’s another whore you could afford. He goes by the name Darius.”

This time Tu closed his eyes. Second ticked by, and then he opened them again. “I could afford it, yes,” he finally said. “But I don’t think there I have the... the time for a different man. This offer would only work for you.” Unease coiled through him. He rarely offered advice based on what he saw when he looked forward. “Don’t hesitate. It’s better that way. Merciful.”

Cin flicked him a look, a frown pulling at his lips. Tu shook his head once, unable to speak around the sour taste in his mouth. The blank look on Cameron’s face only made it all the worse. The young demon just inclined his head slightly. “Noted.”

Before he could get far, Tuathal called him back, on impulse. “Life has a strange way of bringing you things you thought lost,” he said. “This is not your only path, and not your only life. Your future forks more than you’re willing to believe, and you will be surprised by the outcome.”

Cameron paused long enough to give him a small, sharp smile, disbelief clear in the expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, and then he kept walking.

“You tried to tell him,” Cin offered, bumping shoulders with Tu.

“I feel like those cryptic old prophets,” Tu complained, turning towards home. “I hate those prophets. They’re all dicks.”

“Well. You are a dick, so.” Cin ducked away from the swat Tu aimed at him, laughing.

---

Cameron found two men to service that held similar enough scents to the two halfbreeds before heading back to the mansion. He was ordered to sleep with them, and he could not show back up without the scent of sex on his skin, unless he wanted to answer questions that would get him in hot water.

Cameron went to kneel in front of his mother. His brother was leaned against the throne next to her, that lazy, spidery smile curling his face as he rested his eyes on Cameron. The same smile was mirrored on Asmadai’s face and Cameron trained his eyes to the marble white floor. “The halfbreed wishes you to know he is not interested.”

His mother hummed, but it was Destris who said, “And did you serve them?”

“I did,” Cameron lied, smoothly.

“Clearly you didn’t do it well,” Destris replied. “Not enough training, I suppose. Even with your own personal whore. Here I thought Darius was useful.”

Cameron’s blood was somehow ice cold and burning at the same time. He allowed himself to feel neither and said, “I apologize. I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, Lady.”

His mother’s clicking nails was the only sound in the room, and Cameron could feel his heart pound in rhythm to them. “Bedding the half breeds was punishment enough, I think. You probably wish to wash their reek off your skin.”

“I would appreciate it, Lady,” Cameron said, still looking down at the floor.

“You’re quite welcome,” she said. “You may take your leave, Cameron.”

“Thank you,” he said, rising to his feet smoothly, eyes down as he walked out of the room. Cameron carefully eyed the hallways he took back to the rooms and he wasn’t sure if he were relieved or not when Darius was not in the rooms. He had no choice but to sit there and wait with the blade in his hand.

He had it resting on his lap by the time Darius came back, smelling of sex and perfumes. Darius looked from Cameron’s wings, to his eyes to the knife back up to his eyes. “So, I suppose the knife is going in my back?” he asked.

Or throat, Cameron thought, numbly.

“Yes,” was all he had to say, while standing.

Darius seemed to think about that, gold eyes never wavering as he held Cameron’s gaze. He tried for a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wouldn't by chance be able to convince you to not?”

“No,” was all Cameron said.

Darius nodded, more in acceptance than anything else. Cameron watched Darius carefully unclasp the watch from his slender wrist and hold it out. “Wear it for me? I’m sure you’ll have more use for it than I.”

Cameron unwillingly looked down at the black and silver watch in Darius’ fingers and found himself reaching out for it. The metal was warm from Darius’ touch. Cameron forced it onto his own wrist and lifted to curl his fingers around the back of Darius’ neck. The black strands brushing his fingers sent goosebumps up his arm and down his spine. Darius had to lift Cameron’s chin to make him look him in the eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “I knew what I was getting into by getting involved with you. I know this isn’t what you want. I just hope you can eventually get what you need.”

“I’m sorry,” Cameron’s voice cracked.

Cameron didn’t give himself a second before he expertly plunged the blade into the back of Darius’ neck. He twisted sharply, feeling the nerves sever and the life leave Darius’ body without so much as a whisper. Cameron wasn’t sure if the feeling in his chest completely severing as well was imagined or not.

Blood seeped down his fingers, drenching Darius’ hair as Cameron gently brought the warm, limp body to the floor. Cameron’s eyes were bleary, tears streaking down his face and he couldn’t breathe. He had no right to feel this; he had no right to tears or pain of any kind. But that didn’t stop Cameron from dropping his forehead against Darius’ blood splattered one.

Closing Darius’ eyes, Cameron felt a sob tear through his chest. It felt like he was dying, like this was what death was. He supposed, in a way, it was. He never planned on living that long, anyway. He was going to end up dead one way or another, either at his mother’s hand or his brother’s.

A walking corpse.

----

Five hundred years later and Cameron was still serving in his mother’s court. He had carefully crafted an image for himself, making people want him; making people fear him. Of course, that did not include Destris in the mix, but he had his roles to play and he played them well.

Cameron, however, had not been expecting a half beaten angel to drop at his mother’s feet. The golden brown, tattooed skin was covered in bruises and blood, dark brown eyes somehow daring even with one of them bloodshot.

It was interesting enough to get Cameron’s attention, seeing as how his mother didn’t kill him right away. Angels were a thorn in his side, but this one- he was also an omega and that also piqued Cameron’s interest. An angelic omega in his court, still alive and daring to grin at his mother like this.

“Well,” the angel rasped. “This is surely one way to gain an audience.”

Cameron wasn’t sure how he had gotten from his mother’s side to his back oozing blood, and half dead in angelic territory in a matter of weeks. He had used the last of his strength to make sure he ended up on the right doorstep, hand slamming hard against the heavy oak door before completely crumbling.

Black edged at his vision, and all he could taste was the mingling metallics of blood and venom. He heard, more than saw the door open, black biker boots appearing in front of his eyes. “What the hell? Cameron?”

The next thing Cameron saw was the inside of what appeared to be a large bedroom. He could hear Nik and someone arguing. Pain laced through his body as he looked over to see the idiot angel and a taller, red haired angel bickering about him. He felt the eyes of the ginger turn towards him, bright green and disgusted and hateful. “Oh, you’re awake,” he deadpanned. “I guess you did survive.”

“Ash,” Nik hissed. “Don’t be a prick. I know it’s hard, but I think you could manage for a split second.”

Cameron closed his eyes for a heartbeat, and tried sitting up. Pain laced down his back, his arms threatening to buckle. He would have landed back on his face anyways had Nik not moved to put him back on his stomach. “You stupid bastard,” he breathed. “You just had your wings chopped off. Don’t move.”

“Let him,” Ash said. “If he’s stupid enough to move after a hack amputation like that, so be it.”

If Cameron had the energy he might have rolled his eyes. “I need to go,” he rasped. “I can’t be here.”

“Well, too bad,” Nik said.

“Angels,” he mumbled, forehead against the bedding.

“Yeah? And?” Ash asked. “If I haven’t killed you, I doubt anyone else is going to. Not when Nik would probably throw a damned fit first. Plus Az’ril isn’t here, so you don’t need to worry about him.”

He could hear how Nik’s breath hitched just a bit before, “Well lucky us. It’ll be fine. I’ll deal with Papi when the time comes. Blood debts and all that.”

Cameron had spared Nik and for his troubles he had gotten his wings carved off. Cameron sighed into the bedding and tried getting up again. The temperature in the room spiked enough Cameron knew Ash’s power and filed that information away for later. “Ah. So this is why Nik likes you. You are as stupid as he is.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ashwyn.”

Ash muttered under his breath but came over and had Cameron jolting when Ash touched his back. Cameron reached out and grabbed Ash’s arm in a vice grip and turned to glare up at him. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Ash rose a brow. “I see, too good for angelic healing?”

Cameron removed his hand and put his face back in the blanket. “Something like that.”

Ash scoffed, but Cameron could almost feel Nik inching towards them. He could feel the calloused fingers hesitantly touching his hair; knew Nik was stupid enough to touch him like this, in front of another angel. “Ash, get out.”

“You made me come over here and save your stupid demon,” Ash snapped. “And now you want me to leave you alone with him?”

“Do you really think he is in any position to hurt me,” Nik said, sharply. “He already spared me once, I doubt he’d try to kill me now.”

He could feel the heat of the glare Ash sent both their ways. It was hot enough Cameron could feel his hair sticking to his forehead. “Fine,” he finally said. “Your funeral.”

“Aw thanks,” Nik said. “Now get out.”

----

“Sir?”

Cameron looked up from his paperwork, annoyed to see one of his bouncers at his door. “Can’t knock?” he asked, coolly.

“I- There’s another angel here. Besides the mutt and... Nik.”

Cameron lifted a brow and leaned back. He thought on it; there weren't many angels that bothered showing in his club, unless it was Nik or Amara. But they both were gluttons for punishment and both got sex out of it. And unfortunately he could never really get rid of Nik anyways.

“Noted,” he said. “Now get out and go do your job.”

When the bouncer bowed out, Cameron rose from his desk and went to the tinted glass windows that overlooked his club. The club was packed, and Cameron kept looking to see where this angel was. He had no patience tonight to deal with angels trying to dismantle his establishment. But his attention was caught when sudden shadows appeared, wrapping around one of the patrons.

“Mmm.” Cameron said, leaning closer, to get a better look. He might have walked away when a demon started talking to the angel had the angel not tried flinching back. He cocked his head, watching more when Nik appeared in that awful body glitter and slung his arm around the angel’s neck.

Cameron watched enough for Nik to drag the angel to the bar where he knew Amara would be, drinking all his booze like usual. As annoying as she was, at least she provided steady profit for his club.

Cameron came down to the bar, more out of vague curiosity and suspicion than anything else. He made his way through the noisy club, training his hearing on Nik, the angel (apparently named Levant) and Amara. By the time he reached them Levant had a glass of water in his hand and was following Nik’s line of vision. The dark haired angel nearly dropped his glass.

Cameron nearly stopped in place when the wide gold eyes turned to his, but the arm slipping around his waist had him loosening once more, pulling him into focus. He let Nik at his throat, to scent him, but he still forced himself to offhandedly say, “Don’t get glitter on me.” He ignored Nik’s happy hum and kept his eyes on Lev. “Who are you?”

Lev was gaping like a fish out of water when Nik grinned. “This is Lev. Mar is trying to get us in his pants.”

Hmm. Cameron forced himself to turn his attention to Amara. “I’m not giving you free booze.”

The long drink and loud sigh didn’t impress him. “Why does everyone insinuate that I want free booze? I'm just trying to get my darling cousin loosened up a little. Maybe by a cock or two, you know?”

Cameron could have told her it was because he knew very well that she pick pocketed his patrons and used their money for her alcohol. So she was, in fact, not paying for her own alcohol. However, he was still making profit, so he did not care.

Lev’s mortified squeak had Cameron looking back at Lev and gripping his chin. He looked him over indolently. “And does he want to be loosened up by a cock or two?” he asked, lips brushing against Lev’s ear.

The sharp spike in Lev’s scent- in the cinnamon and vanilla scent- nearly had Cameron freezing himself.

“Oh, don’t break him yet, Cam. The poor angel’s going to be too much of a mess to be fun to either of us.” Cameron could smell Lev’s very clear, very obvious interest in Cameron. “Though, something does tell me he enjoys being a mess.”

Cameron couldn’t stop himself from brushing his nose along Lev’s neck, getting more of his scent into his lungs. Nik had grabbed the glass from Lev’s hands and Cameron used that moment to grab Lev by the hoodie and press him back against the bar, still scenting him.

“I’m going to take that as a yes?” Amara was saying.

Cameron eventually pulled back, his eyes trained on Lev. Cameron lifted his gaze from those bright gold eyes to the black wavy hair. Despite this skin being paler, despite the moles dotting that pale skin, and despite this angel being so thin-

It was like looking at a ghost.

Tagging:  @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur @mis-lil-red

[nurse-buckley]

Whumptober Day 13 - Chemical Pneumonia

Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order  Characters: Cal Kestis, Prauf and Fisher (OC)  Word Count: 1,946  Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of blood, pneumonia and needles.  Cal ignores safety precautions on Bracca, luckily he has friends to look out for him. 

It’s early morning when Prauf wakes. It’s too early to get ready for work but too late to go back to sleep. He decides to suck it up and get out of bed, swinging his legs over the side and standing up. The Abednedo stretches his back, grimacing as he feels the clicking and popping of his joints. 

Prauf creeps past Cal, sleeping on a mattress in the corner. He knows he needs a bed but the pair don’t make much money between them and Cal doesn’t complain. He hears the soft snores coming from the young redhead, only it’s not the usual sound he’s used to hearing. Cal sounds congested, he hopes he isn’t getting sick; it’s the last thing either of them needed. 

Being sick on Bracca wasn’t ideal; the planet wasn’t known for its healthcare but if it came to it Prauf knew he could take the kid to Fisher. Fisher was an older woman who had adopted the role of medic for the scrappers, finding ways to legally and not so legally obtain medical supplies. She’s managed to fly under the radar for the most part and the stormtroopers who knew about her ignored her. After all they weren’t paying for the supplies and as far as they were concerned she was keeping business going. 

Prauf moves towards the kitchen, grabbing himself a cup of Caf to start the morning. When he eventually finishes he heads to have a shower and get dressed for the day before waking Cal up. 

He doesn't need to however, as he hears shuffling coming from the other room followed by a harsh hacking cough. “You okay pal?” Prauf asks as he moves through the apartment seeing Cal awake and moving in the small kitchen drinking a glass of water. He hides another small cough, clearing his throat before nodding, “yeah I’m good” he smiles. 

Cal feels rough, but he knows there is a big shipment coming in today that needs to be broken down and if they want to get the best picks. It’s not long after that the pair are on their way to the scrap yard. Although Bracca was not a place for a child, Prauf enjoyed working with the young boy, he was quick and able to squeeze into small places that he wouldn’t be able to. 

By the time they get there Cal is out of breath and exhausted but Prauf is relying on him so he pushes it to the back of his mind. 

Cal starts uncontrollably coughing once more, feeling the phlegm rising in the back of his throat before spitting it onto the ground next to him, the red stains alarming him. He kicks dirt over it, trying to ignore it once more; he can get Fisher to check on him later. Thankfully the loud noises around him cover the sound of his heaving and Prauf doesn’t see it. 

The day sees the pair going about their normal business, breaking down the scrap ships that had come in and helping other scrappers break down their loads too. Prauf did notice the increase in coughing coming from the younger man, but he knew if Cal wanted to rest or needed to go home that he’d tell him. Until then, he’d just be sure to keep an eye on the younger man. 

Near the end of their shift, Cal was rigged, with Prauf spotting removing the last bolts on the ship they were breaking down. Cal can feel himself growing weaker and more tired, he’s unaware of what’s happening until he feels himself slipping. If it hadn’t been for Prauf watching his every move, he would have surely fallen. With the jolt shocking him awake, he decides that’s enough for today. 

When he’s on the ground, Prauf approaches him, “what was that Cal?” 

Cal rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed at what had just happened. “Just tired I guess” a cough interrupts him, this time he can’t hide the coughing fit that ensues. “Think I might be coming down with something.” 

When the pair arrive home, Cal heads straight to bed. Prauf offers him dinner but the younger scrapper declines. He’s glad it’s the pair's day off and he has the chance of a lay in, in the morning. 

Prauf decides to stay up later than usual, watching reports on the old holoprojector he had in the apartment. When he eventually heads to bed, it’s late. Prauf does his usual checks, making sure the door to his apartment was locked before checking on Cal, he has a bad feeling after what had happened earlier that day and wants to be sure nothing is wrong. 

The abednedo is glad he listened to his instincts as he looks in on Cal, he’s asleep but it’s restless. The younger man is breathing hard and in the dim lights coming through the window, he can see the sweat on Cal’s brow and the congested sound coming as he struggles to draw breath.  

Prauf leaves the boy sleeping, against his better judgement but he can’t risk moving him in the state Cal’s in and he’d only be gone for 10 minutes at most. Prauf dons his poncho, pulling his hood over his head and makes his way outside and towards Fisher’s apartment. 

Fisher, a medic on Bracca, knows Cal well. She’s looked after him many times before and has come to care about him greatly. 

Prauf bangs on the door awaiting a response. After a minute when he hears nothing he bangs again, this time louder with growing anxiety for the sick child at home. “Kriff’s sake, I’m coming!” He didn’t think he’d ever be glad to hear that tone of voice, in all honesty it usually scared him. Fisher opened the door, half asleep wrapping a jacket around her. “This better be important” she scolded. It was only when she looked up from the visitor she knew exactly who was in trouble. 

“It’s Cal,” is all Prauf manages to get out before Fisher is grabbing a bag of supplies and her own poncho before closing her apartment door and is making her way to Cal and Prauf’s accommodation. 

They arrive in record time, Prauf explaining Cal’s symptoms along the way. She’s sure of her diagnosis but can’t be certain until she’s seen him for herself. 

The pair enter the apartment and Fisher wastes no time in rushing to Cal’s side where he’s laying in his bed. He’s pale and sweaty and by the way he’s breathing, Fisher can tell it’s not easy for him. She places the back of her hand against his forehead and shakes her head as she feels the heat coming off him, she removes the blankets earning a whine from the younger man. 

“I know, sweetheart. You’re burning up, I need to get you cooled down,” she coos gently. She turns to Prauf asking him for a cold flannel which he brings, not needing to be asked before placing it gently on the younger man’s forehead. 

The medic grabs his wrist in her hand, her finger tips finding the pulse point there, alarmed at the racing beat she feels. She leans her ear against Cal’s chest, listening for the telltale crackling noises she’s expecting. After a few more questions to Prauf and her assessment she’s confident. 

“He’s got pneumonia. Likely aspiration pneumonia from the shit he’s been breathing in. Has he not got a respirator?” She asks incredulously. 

“He mentioned he’d need a new one soon, come to mention it, I haven’t seen him carrying one on his belt lately.” 

“Shit,” Fisher exclaims. “Stupid, stupid boy, when he’s conscious we’ll be having words.” 

Prauf has been worriedly pacing the floor of his apartment since Fisher has arrived, “so what can we do?” 

Fisher is already rummaging through her bag, “I’ve got antibiotics that will help, but rest and fluids are the only real healers here,” she says as she pulls out a large capped cannula, tourniquet and a bag of fluids. She’s quickly able to set up an IV, shhing Cal gently as he moans when the needle goes into the back of his hand. Fisher injects a liquid Prauf is sure is the first dose of antibiotics because attaching and hanging the bag of fluids. 

Fisher decides to stay, she’s better able to help Cal if she’s close and if she were telling the truth, she feels better keeping an eye on the boy she’s grown to care for like a son. Prauf keeps her company, thankfully it’s the pair's day off but he’s dreading having to tell the empire of Cal’s condition and the pay cut they’re going to face this month. Still, he’d rather have Cal safe and well. 

A few hours pass when Cal finally stirs, the fluid’s having perked him up somewhat. He wakes in a fit of coughs, groaning at the ache in his chest, but already the headache he’d had before is fading and he feels better already. The first thing he feels when he wakes is the tug in his hand as he spies the IV taped to the back of his hand. Next he feels a small hand helping him to sit up, turning his head he sees Fisher. She helps him sit up, supporting him with a hand on his chest while the other gently rubs his back. 

“That’s it, cough it up.” 

After he’s done, Fisher grabs his pillow, fluffing it up so Cal could be elevated in his bed, gently lowering him back. 

“How’re you feeling?” She asks, gently smoothing back his hair, relieved that even in a few hours his temperature has gone down, the strong antibiotics clearly doing their job. 

“What happened?” 

“You’ve got aspiration pneumonia, you’re going to be out for a few weeks while you recover.” 

Cal attempts to sit up, shocked by that announcement, but Fisher is quick to lower him back down. “I can’t…we need the credits? Prauf?” 

Prauf coughs, making his presence known, walking over to where the pair are. “We’ll sort it Cal, I’ve got savings for a reason.” 

Cal opens his mouth to argue, but one look from the abednedo has Cal holding his tongue.  

“We’ll get by, we always do.” 

The three sit in silence for a while before Prauf speaks once more, “now, do you want to tell me what happened to your respirator?” 

Cal lowers his head, shamed that he’d been found out. His breather had broken a few weeks before, he didn’t have enough credits for a new one, so he thought he’d be fine until the next pay day. Clearly he was wrong, and now he’d be losing out on more credits due to his mistake. His expression and unwillingness to look at either Fisher or Prauf says it all. 

Fisher smacks the younger man’s knee lightly, “you fool, do you have any idea how seriously ill you could have got? If you need credits for equipment to keep you safe, you come to me,” she scolds. 

“Or me,” Prauf announces from next to the medic. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to bother either of you.” 

Fisher shakes her head, “get some rest Cal, I’ll be back to check on you later,” she says as she stands to leave. “Might even bring some of that soup you like so much, if you behave.” 

Cal smiles lightly at that, he knows he shouldn’t have put his health on the line like that but he’s glad no permanent damage was done. He’s even more grateful that he’s found kind-hearted friends, no, family on the planet he so cruelly found himself on all those years ago. 

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Finally, the chapter is here. It took a while to get it done and it's been a struggle in some ways.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it despite long waiting :)

Your comments mean the world to me even though I don't always have time to answer each of you. <3

BIG thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 She's truly a gem and has saved this chapter from miserable failure. I can't give you enough credits, Anne. But I'm glad to have you on this journey with me.

Part II will follow shortly after this one, possibly on Thursday :)

P.S. For the better atmosphere I recommend you to put on Dire Straits song "Romeo and Juliet" :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJmER493F4U

A link for AO3.

Enjoy! ♥

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

                                   CHAPTER IV: Lovestruck. Part I

"I'm taking ye on a wee trip, Claire." Jamie stood in the doorway of the locker room, car keys in his right hand. "Ye need fresh air, ye look like yer about to fall down".

My mind froze for a second taken aback by his (dashing as always) appearance.

"Jamie, I can't. I -"

He did not let me finish raising his hand up, gesturing me to be quiet.

"There is no 'I can't' or 'No'. I dinna accept that." He stepped closer. "Maybe I am no doctor but I still can see when someone's worn out."

To be very honest he was right. In the last week, I’ve had ten major surgeries, several new patients to care for. I promised Terry to fill in for her and worked two additional shifts. And just thirty minutes ago I finished partial colectomy. I felt completely drained.

“But what about our… date?” I looked at him trying to find my keys buried in the depths of the bag. The word “date” still sounded strange, and sometimes inappropriate for me (I did not know if we were dating or having a friendship with benefits).

“A wee change of plan.” Jamie clicked his tongue, his hand laid at the back of my neck. “This will be our date then. Just ye, me and some nature.” 

He pressed a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear. That soft, tender one that made me wonder, could this be forever? Or will we end up staying just Claire and just Jamie having fun?

"Take her will ye! She willna listen to me," smirked Geillis. "I'll take care of yer wee cheetie while yer away. So dinna fash, lovies.”

I rolled my eyes. Jamie coughed clearly trying to hide a laugh.

“I promise I willna be angry at ye for ruining our cinema time tradition. Just next time it’s my turn to choose a movie”. And just like that, grabbing the house keys from my hands she was gone.

“Tell me there is a hot shower where you’re taking me and I can borrow one of your gym's t-shirts for sleeping?” My head dropped back, fitting perfectly in the space between his collarbone and jaw.

Jamie’s hands circled around my waist locking just above my navel.

“There is a bath, Sassenach. An improvement to yer wee shower.” He nuzzled his nose against my hair. “And I can assure ye, ye willna need a sleeping shirt.”

A habit of falling asleep almost anywhere was my superpower. After we got into Jamie’s crossover Peugeot with Tesco groceries for our breakfast I immediately dozed off. The last time I sat in his car was two weeks ago, exactly three days after our first real date as Jamie called it. 

Appearing at the hospital without any warning, he volunteered to bring me home after work. Though the GPS in Jamie’s phone had announced that the distance between Braid Road and Lauderdale street was just fifteen minutes I didn’t walk out of the car for at least thirty. I laughed needing to admit that sex in the car is not as comfortable as it looks on TV. Jamie frantically searched the glovebox for a condom while creating a mess of tissues, mints, and papers. I struggled with the front seat that didn’t want to go down. Though in the end, nothing was an obstacle. Later that evening as I prepared for bed, I welcomed the hickey starting to bloom bright purple on my neck.

I felt very much cozy in his car (despite previous activity here). Jamie had turned the seat warmer on (making fun of me for not handling Scottish weather “Ye English, weak creatures”). Shamelessly, I stole his coat to cover my always-cold-legs. The soft blur of Mark Knopfler’s voice on the radio and passing lights were the ones that made me sleepy. I awoke sometime later, noticing the familiar scenery disappeared and the darkness of the countryside had eaten all the electric lights. Jamie’s hand rested on my knee, his thumb drawing patterns that he only knew. He had a dreamy, faraway look about him. There was no GPS this time. Jamie knew his way, leading us through the Highlands where the history was almost palpable. Like that time (four days after car sex) when I had come back from a late shift at the hospital and called him.

It was the day I seemed to be annoyed with everything and everybody. I felt annoyed with Geillis and her endless discussion about her latest sexual encounter. With Adso for weeing on my fluffy bathroom rug. Even my touchpad on my phone betrayed me! Wasting my time on my coffee break with coffee that tasted like an old sock. Does it ever stop raining? And Jamie left for a four day trip to Broch Mordha. But most of all I was annoyed with myself for coming to the realization that I actually missed him.

I was exhausted. Too tired to cook, I ate three spoons of quinoa cold straight out of the fridge. Falling into bed, I felt each sore muscle in my back as I stared into the ceiling for minutes or possibly hours. I managed to get out of my clothes and just crawl under the duvet not showered, naked, with makeup on. Breaking all of my three own rules.

Jamie’s number was dialled in seconds without any hesitation (my fourth rule was broken as well). He picked up after five long beeps (I actually counted).

“Sassenach?” His voice deep with sleep.

Christ. What a smart one you are, Beauchamp. Normal people sleep at one am. He was asleep, clearly.

“Claire?” He shifted, readjusting position, sheets rustling in the background. “If someone abducted ye and yer calling me now to come and get ye, ye gotta let me know. Otherwise, I really would like to get back to my warm pillow. Of course, it’s not as nice as when yer with me but…”

There was banter in his voice but suddenly I felt ashamed, foolish for calling him like that. (Hoping for what exactly? )

"I’m sorry. I did not realize it was so late." 

The incoherent mumbling poured out of me then. I was telling him all about how annoyed I was all day, about the rug I probably would have to throw away, how can’t I sleep now and a million other things before he finally shushed me.

“I miss ye too, Sassenach.”

My mind stilled then. The warmth rising up somewhere inside, behind my breastbone and running down to my cold fingers and toes, creating the sun under my skin.

“Do ye want me to tell ye a story to sleep?”

He told me then all about ancient castles, about the brave Highlanders and the battles they fought, Jacobite rebellions, mythical creatures and tales of the mountains. He was a born storyteller.  Charming in fact. 

I had fallen asleep feeling his presence even though he was away.

Jamie looked like he belonged here. With the mountains and grassy moors. With Knopfler’s voice singing "You and me, babe, how about it?".

“I did not know you were Dire Straits fan”. The smile crept in and took possession of my lips as I whispered my silent observation. His eyes fixed on me for mere seconds but long enough to drown in the blue depths of them once again. He looked at me in a way that made me shiver, made me feel a growing warmth mixed with lust that went deep down to the marrow of my bones. The navy of his slightly slanted eyes dug inside and stamped a mark at the very bottom of my core. That same look he gave me when I sat only-knickers-on at his bed legs crossed some days ago.

I could feel the blue marks getting born under my skin at the tender layer of paleness on my thighs where he held me just minutes ago (the bitterness of vague pain as his fingers pressed onto the tops of my flesh and the hot wave of my release making my stomach turn). Jamie’s place was a small studio on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It felt half empty and lonely, screamed for a touch of coziness. He’d explained he stays mostly in Broch Mordha with family. After his mom died a couple of years ago there was an aching hole and need for them to be together.

Jamie fell silent when we stood in the shower, hot water washing off the memories of my own parent's death. We slept. Together, limbs tangled under the rumpled sheets, Jamie’s warm hands soothing the marks he had left on me. That morning I’d said to him I wanted it easy and fun. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself. I want us to live in this moment. Just Claire and Jamie. No promises no regrets.”

“ I wouldna wish to hurt ye, Sassenach. Not ever.”

Then he stated more than asked, “It’s just Claire and Jamie having fun, see where it leads us, aye?”

For two nights, I dreamt about him. Of touching him. Of his swollen lip from my kiss. Of the way his breath hitched when he whispered “Claire”. I was painfully, utterly aware of him, of his presence making residence somewhere deep inside me. I lived with his smell (sharp and clean, hay and crisp air) which seemed to be everywhere, in each cell of mine and at the back of my throat.

Now my life consisted of flirty texting nonstop (I did not know I was able to do that being 32 years old anymore), of occasional Skype sessions when Jamie was away to Broch Mordha (me with a messy curly bun and old pajamas, glass of wine in one hand and Adso snuggling beside me; Jamie bare chest, bloody furnace he was, with whisky and his nieces and nephews popping to the screen from time to time). 

One of those evenings young Jamie had asked his uncle who I was. (“that doctor lady ye talk a lot with, Ma says ye fancy her, is she yer girlfriend?”)

My heart skips a bit then waiting for Jamie’s answer. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hear it (as if I hoped for something more, just drop it, Beauchamp). By now I’ve spent enough time with Jamie to know that his face could not hide any emotion. He would be the worst liar on Earth and there’s nothing that could be done about it. It was all there. Written on his face and easy for anyone to read. The tips of his ears became scarlet red as he shot a look to me on the screen and then back to his nephew who now was waving to me.

“Well, I do fancy Claire, aye.”

Before my smitten mind could conjure up any appropriate response wee Maggie was in the screen, climbing onto Jamie’s lap and pointing her little finger at me.

“Will ye marry her then, uncle Jamie?”

I choked on my wine and nearly spilled it on peacefully sleeping Adso.

“Should I call her doctor Claire, uncle Jamie?” Little girl shifted on Jamie’s laps looking up at him.

“Noooo, we should call her Auntie Claire!” Her brother grinned back.

“Yer wee devils, ye’ll make a lady uncomfortable and we dinna want that, right? Let yer uncle talk in peace. Jenny, mo cridhe?”

It was the voice of Brian Fraser. It was hard not to recognize as it had the same soft blur to it as Jamie’s. I haven’t seen him, neither the rest of Jamie’s family. Only his nephew and niece. It was a territory which was sort of forbidden to trespass. Because if we did it would mean we have something more than just a fling. The truth was we both did not know what it was between us. And what we wanted it to be?

“ C’mon. Get off yer uncle, the two of ye. There’s warm milk and shortbread cookies in the kitchen.” Jenny’s hands appeared on the screen helping the children off Jamie’s lap.

Of course, Jamie talked about me with his family. I did not know what he’d shared and how much they knew but I was grateful for them for respecting my private boundaries. I wasn’t ready to meet them but also there was never a discussion of such a possibility. It’s just that they knew about the existence of Claire Beauchamp as I knew Jamie’s family was very important to him. It was enough.

When we arrived at our final destination, it was pitch dark outside. On the way here I saw the sign that said Loch Lomond. We stood in front of the grey stoned cottage surrounded by mountains peeking out in the darkness. The stillness and quietness of the place was disturbed by the only sound of car engine still running on. A narrow stone walkway with shrubs of French Hydrangea and Azalea alongside led straight to a big wooden door. “Taigh Beann” it said at the very top of it, carved into the bronze plate that hung above.

“Gaelic.” Jamie explained setting our groceries bags down. “It means House of the Mountains.”

The inside reminded me of a house of my grandparents where I spent many summers until the age of five. It was filled with all kinds of vases and figurines, large, dusty paintings of nature in gold frames, books of all imaginable kinds. The old, burgundy patterned rug laid in the living room where I squealed happily to find a fireplace. In the centre stood big brown leather couch the kind I hated in the summer because it made my skin stick to it. In the corner where green velvet armchair nestled, we found an oak round table. The bedroom was small but light. The bed was centered under a glorious skylight offering the promise of a magnificent view of a starry night sky. But the main attraction was the bathroom. My mouth dropped open and I grabbed Jamie’s hand in excitement. What I saw was stunningly beautiful. The floor was lined with marble tiles, the windows extended from floor to ceiling and ran the length of the wall. Imagine what breathtaking scenery might be outside. The centerpiece of the room was a large clawfoot bathtub big enough for two.

“I told ye there’s an improvement to yer shower, Sassenach” Jamie winked leaving me to stand astonished by the view.

Sometime later I sat in the armchair that Jamie had moved for me to the fireplace (saying that I probably lived in Spain or Greece in my previous life). He himself retreated to the kitchen with a promise of dinner. I watched the flames dance and collide together all the same as we did. We’ve known each other for the past four weeks but sometimes it felt like a lifetime. 

Our days together consisted of talking about everything and nothing, snuggling up on my couch watching Netflix, of Jamie cuddling Adso all the time. Of me ordering takeaways and only cooking breakfasts in case if Jamie stayed for the night. We used to hit the pubs once a week and get obnoxiously drunk. Then, of course, there was sex. And some more sex. We were travelling back and forth between my apartment and his studio. Jamie had fixed something in my car after he had driven it once cursing that I could have killed myself and how on earth I did not hear that sound? His toothbrush that we picked up together at Boots now lived in my bathroom and my pink cat pajamas took a residence in his closet. At the times we were not together my phone buzzed every other hour. We talked so much that I had to consider having a second mobile phone not to let my private life intervene with work. And suddenly now it struck me. What is going on Beauchamp? What has happened to you?

“I don’t like it.”  My fingers typed a text hitting the button Send to Geillis.

Three dots appeared.

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ye mean what he has in his pants? I thought it was all perfect till now…”

Before I could reply to her in a hateful manner another two texts appeared on the screen.

“Did he bring ye to a dark forest and now ye need help to escape? What was that movie about serial killer we watched..?”

“All joking aside, what’s wrong, Claire?”

My teeth sunk into the bottom lip as I tried to conclude what I felt. Control. There it was. I was losing it. Control over the situation, my feelings, over myself. Suddenly all my life always ordered and stable went down the hill adjusting to one James Fraser. I didn’t realize just till now how much I allowed him to creep under my skin in such a short time. Usual Claire wouldn’t let anyone take her away to some trip on a whim. At least I would have bartered with him or set my conditions.

A painful lump in my throat seemed to travel down and settle around my heart squeezing it. I thought there was actual physical pain. I knew what made me feel so insecure. It was the way Jamie made me feel. Safe, cherished, loved (?). He was always there. Ready to be my strength and help. My safe place to come back to, where all my masks would come off and my vulnerable self stands. 

Like the time I caught a cold but have been so busy I had no time even to take any medicine.

Geillis dropped a pharmacy bag on my lap with a smirk on her face. “That’s from yer laddie. I dinna recall Frank ever did it to ye.” Inside there was a box of paper tissues, lozenges for sore throat, a box of Theraflu, and a little jar that looked like a jam with a yellow sticky note on it.

“I’m sure yer to busy being wrists-deep into a human that ye dinna have time to get any medicine. Even Jenny heard yer cough over the phone yesterday. Btw, that’s her handmade raspberry jam, especially for ye. I couldna get it to ye myself, have business at the brewery. Take care. Xxx.”

I grabbed a tissue from the box pretending I had a runny nose but in truth, there was a swell of tears. Geillis only smiled and left me alone staring at the bag Jamie put together for me.

Or the time when I had to cancel our date being summoned to work.

There were times I felt confident in what I was doing. But there were moments when even years of studying and experience did not give me enough confidence facing the difficult surgeries. I was half ready for the theatre play we were going to visit when our plans got interrupted. I had to be in the surgery for repair of aneurysm. Calling Jamie and mumbling “Sorry” every other second I could not stop myself from letting him know that I was actually anxious.

“There also might be a loss of blood flow to the legs from a blood clot…”

" Ye'll do just fine, Sassenach. Dinna fash. Ye have done this before, right?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But you can never guess possible complications and…” I sighed getting into my car. “Do ye think I am a bad surgeon?”

“I dinna think that, Claire. I ken that yer an excellent one. And ye shouldna ever doubt yerself. How long will it take?”

“ Three to five hours.”

“ I’m verra proud of ye, Sassenach.”

Despite my worries, the surgery went smooth. The patient was sent to ICU and was stable. I felt if the train ran over me. It was 6 am by the time I finally made it out of the hospital. Jamie’s car was standing outside and I rubbed my eyes thinking I’m imagining it. I wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached the car. “How long have you been here?”

Jamie took a sip of coffee, handing me a paper Starbucks cup.

“About two and a half hours I suppose. Didna want to miss ye.”

“Oh Jamie” I bit my lip and locked arms around his neck, my head dropped to his chest. “You didn’t need to do it but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, I did.” His lips softly brushed over my temple. “How did it go?”

“Very well.” I whispered feeling my eyelids burn with the exhaustion of doing surgery for four hours.

Despite my weak protests, he brought me home. Sent me into the shower and by the time I was done he’d made scrambled eggs for me, watched that I ate all of it, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up Adso’s litter tray and finally put me to bed as if I was a child. On the edge of sleep, I reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. “Where did you come from? Surely you’re not real”

He chuckled catching my hand to plant a kiss on each finger. “As far as I ken Ellen and Brian Frasers are the ones to blame for my existence. Sleep now, mo duinne.”

Another text from Geillis popped on the screen.

“Do ye like him?”

There I typed something I was afraid to acknowledge, something I would not be able to say out loud. But something that my fingers managed to write down on a cold white screen.

“I think I’m falling for him, Geillis. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

Three dots appeared and then stopped. And appeared again.

“Oh yer my wee poor thing. I tell ye this. Go with the flow, dinna force things but dinna resist either. I bet the lad likes ye more than ye think. He likes ye, ye like him. Just let it happen, Claire. It will lead ye to something eventually. And if ye need my shoulder to cry on, I am always there for ye.”

* * *

James Fraser was never sure what love is or what it felt like. Of course, he loved his family. He loved his sister and his nephews. Jamie would have turned the world upside down for them. He loved Ian who was like a brother to him. At the age of thirteen, Jamie thought he was in love with the neighbour’s daughter Maryl. She was bonnie. Tall and elegant with long ruddy hair just like his. He loved the feeling when they kissed. But then Brian Fraser told his youngest son that when he would meet the right woman he’ll feel it. From that time on Jamie has always remembered his Da’s words. Every time he tried to catch that feeling but it never was right. Until the moment he met Claire Beauchamp. It was as a stab into his heart and she was the only one who could stop the bleeding. As much as he tried to understand how this woman can make him want to ravish her until there’s nothing left of her and at the same time cradle and love her as the most precious thing in the world he still couldn’t. But Jamie knew he was falling in love with her and she would be the end of him.

Jamie’s voice was soft and slightly husky as he murmured along with the music playing from his phone. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of the meat he’d cooked and I needed to smile at the candles he had put on the table. Who would think there was a romantic inside this big Scot. My heart shattered just a bit with a sound of old cracks in it with each step I took finally reaching him from the back.

“Sassenach.”

My hands circled around him, face pressed to his broad back.

“You want to know a secret?”

“I do if it is something yer willing to share”. I could feel him smile without a need to see his face.

“I fancy you, Jamie. Very much.” My confession mirrored his that was said days ago.

“Do ye now, mo ghraidh?” He turned then to me grinning.

“What does it mean? You called me that before.” Now I smiled being trapped in his arms.

“I tell ye sometime later.” Jamie leaned in to kiss me. For a second it made me forget about our dinner. But he pulled off before I could make further implications on him.

“I have a lot of excellent plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh do you then?” I could not resist patting his arse.

He smiled.

“Oh aye. I do.”

The rain started to fall down washing the day off as well as my worries.

[emcases]

A Covid Day

I have been leaving later than usual for work (I drive).  There’s no traffic in New York City.  The 40-minute commute is now 20 minutes.

The morning routine now involves getting into my Covid clothing, then lining up to receive my day’s ration of PPE (I ask for one regular mask and one N95).  PPE is dispensed from a locked office now, but the hospital keeps insisting that PPE is plentiful.  I have been reusing the same eye protection for weeks now.  I should clean it more often.  It seems only a matter of time before we run out of all PPE.  The guys in the locked office will need a shotgun lol.

I take sign-out.  There are approximately 20 Covid patients waiting for beds in my zone.  Three are intubated.  One of the intubated patients appears “unlikely”.  Two of the non-intubated patients look like they will go down during my shift.

I talk to the new patients.  The non-Covid patients all have nada.  One guy has 20 chief complaints and needs an appointment.  Second guy has 5 complaints but is basically here for detox.  Admitting a patient to detox feels like a death sentence to me.  All hospital and nursing home patients are sitting ducks.  The guy doesn’t want to stay.  He wants to try some benzos as an outpatient.  The resident has never done this before and he was surprised when I give the guy a script for a bunch of libriums.

I check to see if any of my sick Covids from the last shift died.  I go 4 for 4.  All patients are still alive.  Yay!

I get called to see a Covid patient that was just discharged from the ED a few minutes ago.  He didn’t make it out.  We get him back into a room, put him on oxygen, and admit him.

A Critical Care consult comes by.  There are no ICU beds (no surprise there).  They accepted one of the intubated patients to the MICU.  The others will go to a new floor designated for Covid patients.  We’re not sure who’s running that floor - Medicine, Surgery, or Anesthesia.  I overhear the Critical Care doctor battling it out with the ICU head nurse over one of the patients.  Nothing changes at this hospital.

I check the xray of one of the sicker Covid patients.  She was signed out as cancer + right pleural effusion.  The xray is horrendous; both lungs are filled with disease.  The pleural effusion is the least of her problems.  I decide not to stick a needle into her chest.

I didn’t go to the morning briefing; there are too many patients.  There may be four vents left in the hospital.  One thing about Covid - patients die, so vents and ICU beds open up.  I am surprised by the number of deaths.  I check my work email.  There’s an email that warns us that intubation meds and equipment are running out.

All day long, codes are called upstairs.  I wonder how many of those codes are my patients.

One of the patients I am worried about looks like she is going to go down.  We re-position her and crank up the oxygen.  She doesn’t go down.

A sick patient comes in.  A normal person with a mental status.  Dying from Covid.  We go to intubate him.  Damn, there’s no suction in this room.  A resident contacts his family and his son tells us to make him DNR / DNI.  I call the son back to confirm this.  The patient has advanced kidney cancer and he wants to go peacefully.  The patient is going to die, and soon.  The son is coming to the hospital.  I hope he makes it in time.  We make the patient as comfortable as possible - oxygen, a little fluid, morphine.

I remove my PPE and sit down at the computer.  An ID attending comes by and chats.  I don’t recognize her at first through her top-to-bottom PPE.  She mentions that I should wear a mask at all times.  She’s right, but I laugh because I took off my mask about 10 seconds ago.  Honestly, I don’t think it makes any difference in the ED.  Covid is everywhere.  I am relatively certain that Covid is recirculated via the ventilation system.

More Covid patients come in.  They’re all hypoxic, but none of them will die during my shift, I think.

I go check on the sick guy.  He’s starting to brady.  It won’t be long.  I set my alarm to check on him every 20 minutes.  I don’t want to find my patient in rigor mortis, a common occurrence in the ED nowadays.

More patients come in.  None of them have respiratory symptoms, but I suspect Covid in most of the them.  The nursing home guy who was found on the floor?  Covid.  The old guy with abdominal pain (whose wife died last night)?  Covid.

Someone sends the ED lunch.  That’s so nice of the restaurant.  I send the residents to chow down, then I go.  Nicole, the senior resident, usually doesn’t eat (much) during a shift, but even she goes to eat.  During the Age of Covid, you have to get in as many calories and as much fluid as possible.  I go home thirsty and dry after every shift and wonder if I have Covid.

The nurse says the sick guy is dead.  We go in to pronounce him.  Fuck.  His son doesn’t make it in time.

There is a woman with pleuritic chest pain.  The residents and I talk about a non-Covid issue for once during our shift.  I hate d-dimers.

The son arrives.  The hospital policy is no-visitors.  We let him to see his dead father after we put PPE on him.

All of the “atypical” Covid patients have Covid on their chest xrays.  They are all admitted to beds that we don’t have.  There’s no such thing as atypical Covid anymore.  Everyone in the ED has Covid.  The ED is out of space, so the Covid patients are grouped into shared spaces.  Every once in a while, a Covid patient gets up and walks around the ED.  We don’t have the manpower to watch them, but at least they’re wearing a mask, and none of them are coughing.

More Covid patients come in.   I’m thinking about sending home the guy whose wife died last night, but he’s a little hypoxic and he bumps his creatinine big time.  I admit him.  I wonder if I should send the nursing home Covid back to the nursing home.  Will I kill off the entire nursing home, or have they all been infected already?  If he isn’t a demented nursing home patient, he should be discharged.

During a brief lull, the triage nurse calls us over for a “note” (arrival of a sick patient).  I go over, but there’s no patient there.  EMS is bringing him in, he says.  We go outside.  I see a patient being bagged.  I run back in the ED and assemble the resuscitation equipment.  When the patient gets inside, I can’t help but notice that the patient is dead.  We intubate the patient, put in an IV, and give Epi.  The colorimeter doesn’t change colors even though the tube is in the right place (a very poor prognostic sign).  “Aren’t you going to do CPR?” asks the EMS crew.  “The patient is dead”, I answer.  In all practicality, CPR has stopped in my hospital.  The next day, a new EMS directive is ordered - do not bring cardiac arrest patients to the hospital.

When we intubate the patient, there are tons of secretions in the airway.  That’s one of the weird things about Covid - patients have all this crap in their lungs, but very few of them cough.  The other weird thing about Covid is the spectrum of disease.  Why is one person totally fine and the guy next to him dead?  I work in an area with a diverse population and the deaths have hit all races, ages, incomes, and vulnerabilities.  We pronounced a 25-year-old guy the night before.

A Surgical Attending comes by with a friendly greeting.  I love her; she is always so pleasant.  She’s too good for our hospital.  She tells me that “the nurse” is on ECMO.  I know already - I have been following her upstairs after taking care of her last week.  She is a lovely patient.  Her chances are dismal.

A patient who comes in for detox refuses to leave.  Wtf?!?  He is oblivious to the chaos around him.  Do I have to call the Police to throw him out?  We decide to turf him to Psych.  We need the space.  No patients can hang out in the ED anymore.  Only quickly-dying patients get admitted.

The day winds down.  The last few minutes of every shift is tense because you’re just waiting for one of your patients to go down.  None of my Covid patients die just yet.  Two of the intubated patients went upstairs.

After sign-out, I take off my Covid clothes.  The used masks go into a baggie.  They will be reused should the day come when we run out of fresh masks.  I drive home with my residents, saving them a long subway ride.  They are appreciative.  I love my residents (well most of them).  I go to Chipotle for take-out, one of the few restaurants still open in the neighborhood.  There’s no line, of course.  I get home, shower, and disinfect my ID, my glasses, etc. as well as I could.  I watch Big Bang Theory and I eat, hoping that this is not the day I go down with the virus myself.  If it happens, it happens.

[crispychrissy]

Foreshadow - Part 3

Summary: Y/N is hospitalized with serious injuries, and Dean realizes how much he actually cares about her. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 3611 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, fluff, smut A/N: Part three of three! I really hope you all enjoyed this miniseries! I’m going to be working on finishing my SPN Kink Bingo card, but since my birthday is on the June 21st, I will be taking the rest of this week off! This was edited by the ever so lovely @dean-winchesters-bacon. Enjoy! Part 1 - Part 2

The first time he heard it, Dean was half asleep, painfully hunched over the side of Y/N’s hospital bed. A low groan made his head shoot up, his body tense and immediately awake. Y/N’s head was moving from side to side, and the soft beeping of the heart monitor began to speed up. Dean fumbled with the bed control remote and slammed his thumb down on the nurse call button over and over again until the door creaked open and Laverne, the dark-skinned day nurse, poked her head in.

“She made a noise and her head was moving,” Dean rapsed before clearing his throat. “Does that mean she’s waking up?”

Laverne walked over and checked Y/N eyes with a pen light. She hummed and pressed a few buttons on the monitors surrounding the bed, studying their screens. “She’s not fully awake, honey. The doctor told you this might happen. Her brain was without oxygen for a few minutes, and although it may look like she’s waking up, it’s just her brain sending errant signals to her nerves.” Laverne put a hand over Dean’s and squeezed. “We’ve got her EEG hooked up to the nurse’s station, so the second we see any activity, we’ll know.”

Dean nodded and sniffled, trying and failing to return her sad smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She nodded and walked to the door, pausing before she opened it. “I’m keeping her in my prayers. God and his angels are always listening, hon.”

Dean unlocked his phone and pulled up his message thread with Castiel, looking at all the unanswered messages he’d sent the angel over the last week. “I’m not so sure about that, Laverne.”

The nurse frowned but didn’t reply, slipping from the room and into the hallway. Dean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and set his phone down on the bed before taking Y/N’s hand. She felt cold, and he carefully moved her arm under the blanket, tucking it in to keep the warmth inside. Laying his head back down on the side of the bed, Dean watched Y/N’s chest rising and falling before his eyes slipped closed.

Y/N had stopped breathing on the way to the hospital, and when they arrived in the emergency room, she had lost almost two-thirds of her blood volume. The surgery to fix the damage and remove the bullets was successful, but she still hadn’t woken up. All of the nurses knew his and Sam’s names, and they allowed Dean to use the shower and the vacant second bed in her room to sleep when his body was too sore to stay by her side.

Sam found a motel in town and was hiding out doing research and helping other hunters while he gave Dean and Y/N privacy. Sam had seen his brother go through sadness and grief before, but nothing in the past had come close to his devotion to Y/N. Dean was taking it extra hard, and Sam knew better than to try and snap his brother out of it when he was this way. Dean just had to let himself feel the pain, and nothing Sam could say would make it better.

The next time Dean heard a wheezed groan, he ignored it at first, until he felt cold fingertips brushing along the side of his face. He lifted his head and looked over at Y/N with watery eyes, smiling when he saw her beautiful eyes looking right back at him.

“Hey baby,” Dean whispered, rapidly pressing the nurse call button with renewed vigor. “Just hang on, okay?”

The room was quickly flooded with several nurses and a doctor as they began to check over Y/N and read the monitors. Finally, one they were sure she was breathing on her own, they removed the ventilator tube and allowed her to nibble on ice chips. The doctor mentioned they were going to need a few more brain scans shortly, but they would give them some privacy until they were ready.

Dean waited patiently, each crunch of the ice chips only increasing his nervousness, until Y/N finally spoke. “So who’re you?”

Dean’s face fell and his eyes began to water. “I’m… I’m Dean.”

Y/N smiled and chuckled, then coughed and wheezed at the dryness in her throat. “I know that, you idiot. Like I could forget someone like you.” She took another spoonful of ice chips and crunched away. “So where’s Sam?”

Dean let out a shaky breath and braced his arms on the side of her bed. “Don’t do that to me,” he exhaled, “I thought you had brain damage!”

“Still might,” she shrugged, “but my memory seems okay.” Y/N moved a hand to her stomach, feeling the crinkle of bandages under her hospital gown. “I got shot, right?”

“Yup. You–”

“No!” Y/N interrupted, eyes wide in horror. “My Marshall Tucker Band shirt! It was my favorite.”

Dean snorted and reached down next to his chair, retrieving two clear plastic bags, both labelled “Patient Belongings”. One bag was bloody and contained the shredded remnants of her jeans and shirt, while the other had her jacket and sneakers. “They had to cut off your clothes, so bullet holes are the least of your problems.”

“Son of a bitch,” Y/N grumbled, reaching forward to grab the bag, only to wince in pain. “Ow."

“Take it easy. You’ve been in a coma for a week.” Dean set down the two bags, then smirked. “And I have plenty of band t-shirts you can borrow while you’re recovering.”

Y/N opened her mouth to reply, but the door swung open, revealing a tall orderly who only said who he was and where he was bringing Y/N before sweeping her from the room. Once she was gone, Dean texted Sam and Castiel, begging the latter to please call him. Sam replied quickly saying he was on his way, and it was only a few minutes later when Y/N was wheeled back into the room.

“They injected me with this dye so they could see inside my brain, and it felt like I was shooting sunshine out of my ass,” Y/N said as she wiggled and smiled. “It felt so bizarre,” she looked at Dean and lowered her voice, trying and failing to whisper, “but in a good way.”

“They gave you more painkillers, too, didn’t they?” Dean asked, chuckling softly. “Enjoy ‘em while they last, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled lazily and her eyes slipped closed as she drifted off into a drug-induced slumber. Sam arrived while she was asleep, agreeing to watch Y/N while Dean showered and caught some sleep of his own in the other hospital bed. Dean's phone began ringing only a few hours after his brother fell asleep, and Sam was quick to scoop it up and move to the hallway to answer it.

Castiel gruffly apologized for his absence, saying his phone had been smashed during a struggle with a vampire on the hunt he was on, and he wasn’t able to get it replaced until today. He assured Sam he would be able to heal Y/N, and would be arriving before sundown. Sam checked his watch, seeing it was late afternoon, and gave Castiel the name of the hospital, the address, and Y/N’s room number before hanging up.

It wasn’t the first time one of the brothers or their friends had made a miraculous recovery that required a quick exit from a hospital, so Sam quietly began packing up Y/N and Dean’s things, allowing them to get some sleep before they had to make their escape. Several nurses came and went, checking Y/N’s vitals and the various machines still hooked up to her, and it was a few hours after Sam spoke to Castiel when the angel knocked on the door and stepped inside.

“I’ll wake up Dean, do your thing with Y/N, Cas,” Sam motioned to Y/N, who blinked her eyes open at the sound of her name.

“Hello, Y/N. I am Castiel,” he greeted her. “I am going to heal you. All I need to do is place my fingers on your forehead, okay?”

Y/N groaned in pain as she shifted to sit up slightly and nodded. “Go for it, wings.”

Castiel tilted his head at her nickname for him, but reached forward and pressed his fingers against her forehead. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed at the rush of warmth surging throughout her body. The pain and soreness she had felt was slowly eased, and once she could no longer feel the haze of the painkillers in her mind, she opened her eyes.

“Really, you couldn’t have let me finish enjoying the effects of the morphine?” Y/N pouted childishly and began removing the various monitoring equipment on her body.

“I apologize. I cannot target my grace as well as I was able to in the past.” Castiel glanced over at Sam, who emerged from behind the curtain with a sleepy Dean at his side. “I believe Sam has some recreational drugs you may enjoy once we return to the bunker.”

Sam’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as a blush danced across the apples of his cheeks. “Cas, that was one time.” Dean was thoroughly amused and silently looked to his brother for an explanation. “We were trying to see if angels could get high.”

Dean snorted and nodded. “Understandable.”

Y/N pulled the IV out of her arm with a hiss, and before she could reach to grab some medical tape and gauze, Castiel touched her forehead again and healed the small puncture wound. “Thanks,” she smiled at him before turning to look at the Winchesters, “we ready to go?”

“Not quite,” Sam gestured to her hospital gown and smiled, “but don’t worry, I grabbed some of Dean’s clothes before I left the motel.” He handed over a plastic bag and Y/N took it, slipping into the bathroom to change.

There was a pair of sweatpants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, both of which were too big on her, but she pulled them on, savoring the warmth and softness of the fabric against her skin. Even though Castiel had healed her wounds, she was still extremely cold and a little bit wobbly on her feet since her legs hadn't been used in a week. Once she returned to the room, Sam grabbed her belongings and left with Castiel, and Dean pulled off Y/N’s hospital ID band before they slipped from the room a few minutes later.

Finally outside, Y/N took a deep breath of fresh air, admiring the Impala where it was parked on at the curb. Dean held open the passenger’s side door for Y/N, who bowed and slid onto the bench seat. Dean pulled open his door, sat down, and started the engine.

“Where’s Sam and Castiel?” Y/N asked as Dean pulled away from the curb and onto the road.

“Sammy’s headed back to the motel room to grab our stuff and he’s gonna ride home with Cas.” Dean pushed the tape resting on the player into the stereo and clicked it on, turning up the volume on the Marshall Tucker Band song that began to play. “You’re riding with me because you appreciate good music.”

“And you kinda like me,” Y/N added nonchalantly, tapping her foot to the music.

Dean laughed and grinned. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

***

The drive back to the bunker was full of snacks, shared stories, and classic rock. Dean and Y/N beat Sam and Castiel back by almost forty-five minutes, and it was just enough time for her to take a shower to wash off the hospital gunk on her skin. Sponge baths could only do so much. Once her shower was finished and she was settled in the room Dean had showed her earlier, she began brushing her hair when someone knocked on her door.

“Yeah?”

Dean pushed the door open and poked his head in before moving inside, his hands behind his back. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Y/N put down her brush and stood, wrapping the fluffy cotton robe tighter around her body. “Much better now that she hospital grime is off me.” She gestured to the pile of Dean’s clothes she borrowed. “Might want to burn those. I was gross when we left the hospital.”

“Nonsense. I’ll just wash em.” His eyes lit up with mischief and he stepped closer. “Also, I have a surprise.” Dean moved his hands in front of him and held up what he was hiding. It was a threadbare Marshall Tucker Band t-shirt, almost identical to the one Y/N was wearing when she was shot. “It’s for you.”

“Dean, it’s perfect!” Y/N exclaimed happily, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling him into her arms, the shirt sandwiched between them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered, squeezing her tight. “I also wanted to apologize for how I treated you when we first met.”

Y/N pulled back and accepted the t-shirt, hanging it over the desk chair in the corner. “It’s okay, Dean. Garth only told me a little of your history, but I can sense the rest. I can feel the heartbreak and loss that surrounds your heart. I don’t know specifics, but I know enough to not hold it against you.” Y/N returned to stand in front of Dean, gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t have to hide yourself around me, Dean. I can tell you’re a good man, despite your so-called mistakes and the people you’ve lost. You never stopped fighting, and you never stopped helping those in need.” She placed her other hand over his heart. “And that? That’s a sign of a pure heart.”

Dean surged forward after her words sunk in, capturing her lips with his in a tentative kiss. When Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, he deepened the kiss, hungrily exploring her mouth with his tongue. A soft moan from her made his cock begin to swell in his jeans, and he pulled back, catching his breath.

“Tropes be damned,” Y/N whispered, a bright smile on her lips before she leaned forward and kissed Dean again, nibbling lightly on his bottom lip.

In a mess of giggles and breathy sighs, the two of them stumbled their way to Y/N’s bed. She slipped off her robe, leaving her nude, and climbed onto the bed, waiting for Dean to shed his layers and join her. Dean stripped down faster than she thought was possible, and once he was finally naked, he climbed over her and began running his hands up and down the soft skin of her curves as he began kissing her neck.

Y/N spread her legs when she felt Dean’s hands become more bold, and she shivered when his fingers slid between her folds, gathering the slick that was pooling there.

“So wet,” he murmured against her collar bone before suckling at her skin, forming a purple mark.

“Dean,” she gasped as two fingers pushed forward, sliding into her channel, stretching her. “Fuck…”

Dean continued to slide his fingers in and out, rubbing gentle circles on her clit with each thrust. Crooking his fingers carefully, he moved around, smiling smugly when his fingertips brushed against a spongy spot on the inside wall of her pussy that sent her hips straight off the bed and made a long moan spill from her lips.

“That’s it, baby,” Den praised, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, mesmerized at how her body twitched under his ministrations. His cock was throbbing and almost painfully hard, and once Y/N was approaching her climax, he removed his fingers and leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing his pants and the condom from his wallet.

Y/N was pouting, her pussy clenching around nothing, as Dean slipped the condom on and shuffled forward on his knees, settling between her legs again. Dean looked up at her, silently asking for permission, and she smiled, spreading her legs wider in invitation.

An invitation Dean would never refuse.

In one slow movement, he pushed forward, slipping his cock into her pussy until he was fully seated, groaning at how her walls fluttered and tightened around him as she adjusted. Y/N’s head was thrown back and her eyes were closed, and when Dean’s thumb brushed against her clit, she squealed and jerked her hips, looking at him with lust-hazed hooded eyes.

“Fuck, Dean, need it hard,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Dean smiled lewdly and nodded. He pulled almost all the way out before using all his weight to slam forward, pushing the air out of Y/N’s lungs with the impact. She gasped as he reared back and repeated the action again and again until she was whimpering, babbling nonsense, as he drove her higher and higher.

Y/N had never been fucked like this before. Dean knew exactly where to touch and how to move his hips to make sure that every slide of his cock brushed against her sweet spot. His thumb worked her clit with expert pressure and precision, and it didn’t take long for the combination of sensations to pull a mind-blowing orgasm from her.

Y/N came with a shout of Dean’s name, her back arching off the bed as Dean swore under his breath and began rapidly pounding into her clenching pussy. The warm slick pressure around his cock felt like heaven, and Dean dug his fingers into her hips as his own orgasm approached. He came with a low groan, thrusting through his climax as he throbbed into the condom before collapsing on top of her and trying to catch his breath.

“Wow,” Y/N exhaled, running her fingers through Dean’s sweat damp hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard or been fucked that good.”

“Yeah?” Dean grinned, his chest puffing out in pride as he slipped out of her with a low hiss, rolling to her side. Pulling off the condom, Dean tied it and threw it across the room. It slapped against the wall before landing in the trash bin with a plop.

“Nice three-pointer, Kobe,” Y/N murmured, curling into Dean’s chest once he was laying down again.

“You like classic rock, love cheeseburgers, and you know sports?” Dean chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. “I think you should stick around for a while. If you want.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N hummed in thought, closing her eyes. “Well, I can see the future, and I can definitely see myself in yours.”

Dean laughed and pulled the blankets up around the two of them. “I would love nothing more.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled at the soft snores already coming from her parted lips. “Goodnight, Y/N."

***

Forevers [CLOSED]: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @growningupgeek @jensen-gal @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @atc74 @pilaxia @supernatural-jackles @impala-dreamer @bambi95-blog @wonderfulworldofwinchester @batmmgray @brooke-supernatural16 @dwgrl1903 @hey-bxtch @kittenofdoomage @leanbeankeane @emoryhemsworth @xalgaliareptx @mhnfatima @bi-e-ne @speakinvain @pebblesz892 @lastactiontricia @kassablanca13 @mogaruke @tockettt @imagining-supernatural @wildefire @serienjunkiegirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @stars-and-seas @jaremish @ellen-reincarnated1967 @nyxveracity @andkatiethings @bamby0304 @deathtonormalcy56 @winchesterprincessbride @moonstar86 @missihart23 @mrs-meghan-winchester @miss-rebel-without-applause @dean-winchesters-bacon @researchandbones @wayward-angelgirl @bojabee @maddiepants

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @focusonspn​ @spnwoman @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @sandlee44 @spn--imagines @sadwaywardkid @roonyxx @blackcherrywhiskey @thefaithfulwriter

[cuorepietoso]

Things you were afraid to say

requested by @evcravens   /   ft. Alessio Rossi

     I. 

          They have a dry run for the end. 

     In July of 2013, Sottotenente Alessio Giovanni Maria Greco Rossi, aged 25, receives a Croce di guerra al valor militare after an injury received in the line of duty. The location of this incident is heavily classified, as are the mission specifications, but he’s commended by his commanding officers for his valor and his hard work and his dedication. He’s recognized, briefly, as an intelligence officer that specializes in both human and counterintelligence in the Middle East, and then promptly forgotten about by the broader nation. No mention of his work with the Col Moschin is made. 

          He’s very handsome. He looks good on camera. 

     In July of 2013, Maresciallo Ordinario Battista “Tombarolo” Tahan spent three hours digging a bullet out of Sottotenente Alessio Giovanni Maria Greco Rossi’s asscheek in a rundown shack in Somalia, while the legend himself had laid on his stomach, smoked a cigarette, and bitched about the economy. And about polyester socks. And the way limoncello tastes like ass unless you’re already nine drinks deep. And every time he would stop bitching, Tahan would shake him just a little bit, and try to keep his own voice steady when he prompted him to keep going. 

     He’s silent on the CASEVAC ride out of there, hands clenched together as the other medics take over, watching Rossi’s face as he drifts in and out of sleep, finally drugged up on the good stuff. The ends and elbows of his sleeves are stained red. His knees don’t stop jittering until Rossi reaches out and settles a hand on one with an unhappy grunt. It slides off when he fades once more, and Tahan carefully sets it back at his side on the stretcher, and remains stock still for the rest of the ride. 

     It takes the doctors and nurses nearly ten hours to allow Rossi any visitors once they land on base. Tahan has showered, changed, been debriefed, and navigated tracking down some food for himself within that time, any words that had been forced out of him were terse or downright biting, unwilling or unable to rein in his tongue in the wake of such a disastrous assignment. When he finally steps into the cramped room and spots Rossi, alive and well enough, all in one piece, it’s like the wind falls from his sails, and he slumps into a chair next to his bed with a lackadaisical sprawl. 

     They’re silent for a moment, while Tahan eyes critically his IV, and the machines he’s hooked up to, and then his lap, under the blankets, where he knows there’s a hole in him about three centimeters wide. Rossi watches him back, an expression of openly warm, quiet bemusement settling on his face, and his voice sounds nearly normal when he speaks, if a little slurred from the painkillers. “You have something on your mind, grave robber?” 

     Tahan’s gaze is torn from his lap to meet his gaze, giving him an ugly look. He doesn’t say: you could have died. He doesn’t say: you need to be more careful. He doesn’t say: what would I do without you? There are some things, he’s found, that are just asking for trouble-- and opening that can of worms with Alessio Rossi could be qualified as begging for it. He just leans forward, and puts a hand on his wrist, and murmurs, “Did the doctors say you would make it? Or is your case of shittalking terminal?”

     He laughs, then, something bright, something with no place in the sterile halls. Tahan finds himself leaning closer at the sound of it, wanting to reach out and run his fingers over Rossi’s forehead, his cheeks, his chin, wanting to reach out and feel the breath rolling out of him and his chest rising and falling steadily. He wants to hear that laugh again. He’s happy to settle with watching the easy smile take its place. “I can’t die, Tahan.” Rossi’s voice fills the room like it’s a summer breeze, and he slumps even closer still, until Rossi can reach out and card his fingers through Tahan’s hair-- and that’s exactly what he does. The rest of the lingering tension drains out of his shoulders at the touch. “I have you looking out for me.”

     Tahan rolls his eyes so hard that he thinks they may pop out of his head. “I can only save you from so much stupidity, Rossi. I’m not God.” Most of the younger man’s so-called stupidity, he thinks, stems from his damned bleeding heart. His spine of steel, uncompromising morality-- traits that were God-given, hard to keep, and worth cupping his hands around and breathing life into. Worth protecting. 

     He thinks maybe he’s devoted to the man laying on the bed. It’s easy not to think about why, because he makes it easy. He makes it feel natural. 

     “No, not God.” There’s something terribly fond in his expression now, as he traces his fingers from Tahan’s hairline to his jaw, feather-light. “Maybe a guardian angel, then.” His grip tightens marginally when Tahan scoffs. “Right, sorry-- Your angels are a bit scarier than mine. But what’s wrong with that, hm? You’re ass ugly already--” 

     Tahan lets out a bark of laughter, the stormcloud of his foul mood finally releasing as he pulls Rossi’s hand from his face, settling their palms together. Rossi laces their fingers and settles their joined hands on the bed. “Your mother doesn’t think I’m ugly.” 

     Rossi’s nose crinkles. “My mother has awful taste. So do I.” They share another laugh, and have to smother it as a nurse walks by, peering into the room to check on the racket they’re making. When he speaks again, his voice isn’t subdued at all. “Seriously, though. I’m fine. And you know I’m fine. It’s just-- getting shot in the ass? I’d almost rather be dead. How embarrassing.”

     A weary sigh slips out of Tahan, and he settles a chin in his hand, elbow resting on the edge of the bed. The sheets are itchy. He thinks Rossi is probably too doped up to notice. “The bullet missed your femoral artery. But it might not have. Or it could have hit you anywhere-- the spine, the heart.” His lips are drawn into a thoughtful frown. “And you shouldn’t say things like that. Being shot in the ass is going to be funny… in twenty years.” 

     “You’re right, you’re right. And besides--” Rossi pauses, for dramatic effect, as he occasionally does. “If I died, who would watch your back? Hm? Rana and Rospo are good at their jobs, but they’re dumber than brickbats. And who would tell you to cut your hair, since you don’t know what a mirror is for?” 

     Tahan sighs again. “Bene, bene. Glad you’re alright, asshole. Try to watch out for ricochets next time.” Rossi’s smile is all teeth, and his only other response is to point imperiously at the bottle of water next to his bed, and order Tahan to fetch it for him.

     II. 

     In 2014, nearly a year to the day Alessio Rossi’s life is violently cut short, Tahan finds himself staring at the burned out shell of a building. The walls have crumbled in, mostly, and the fire still smolders and smokes in a few places. He has no idea if there was anyone inside when the building went up, or when it came down, and try as hard as he can he doesn’t feel anything about that at all, one way or another. His rifle remains cradled loosely in his arms, the radio chatter at his shoulder strangely muffled by the rush of blood in his ears. He almost hits Rossi when the younger man reaches out and touches his elbow, startled as he is by the contact. 

     Rossi just gives him an exhausted look, and bumps shoulders with him gently, tipping his chin in the direction of the smoking mass of brick just inside their hastily set perimeter. “What’s in that thick skull of yours?” His voice is quiet, but suddenly it’s the only thing Tahan can focus on, the soft southern accent, the forced smile curling in the corners of his mouth and the bags under his eyes. He is the easiest thing to focus on.

     Normally the question would make him laugh, or at least scoff. Today it draws his brows together as he tries to think, tries to put together words in his head and shove them out of his mouth in a coherent sentence. His voice sticks to his throat, it’s been so long since he spoke, and he has to cough a little and try again. “Was just wondering if there was anyone inside.”

     Turning his gaze to the shell of the building behind a crumbling wall, Rossi lets the attempt at a smile slip from his face once more. He swallows hard, thinks for a moment, and releases a long sigh -- “I think there were two women inside that didn’t make it out.” The words fall out, brittle, and shatter between them like glass.

     Tahan knows there was a point in his life where the news would have filled him with grief, and that there was a point in his life where the news would have filled him with bitter rage, at the waste of it, the clumsiness of it, the unfairness of it. Right now he feels a vast nothingness, struggling around and around to feel anything about it at all. The wisps of emotion slip right through his fingers. The cold wind at his back cuts right through him. 

          He thinks maybe he feels a little nauseated. His face is hot. 

     “That’s bad,” he finally responds. It’s meant to be a statement, hardly a whisper, but almost feels like it falls out of him as a question, because he just can’t make himself feel anything at all. He knows it’s bad. Civilian casualties are bad, are to be avoided at all costs, and so it’s bad that there are innocent people who died today. He can’t stop turning it over in his mind, thinking about what could have been done differently, thinking about their last moments, but it’s clinical. Logical. He can’t make himself feel anything. He can’t stop thinking.

     Rossi turns his gaze back and eyes him seriously. Whatever he finds on Tahan’s face must not satisfy him, because he makes a strained nose somewhere in the back of his throat and settles a hand on his elbow and turns him around, and starts to lead him away from the sight. The other man’s fingers are steady, he can feel them, warm and strong through the sleeve of his uniform. Tahan’s own hands are clenched, white knuckled on his rifle. He doesn’t notice until he looks down and sees for himself. Rossi continues to watch him, concern clear on his face. “Yes, Battista. It’s very bad.”

     The use of his first name snaps at him, and he drags his attention from the things crawling about in his own head to look Rossi in the eye. The younger man blinks at him, hand now traveling up his arm to settle warmly against the side of his neck. Tahan stands rigid, focused on the honey-brown gaze that flicks over him head to toe. His voice sticks in his throat. He doesn’t know what else to say-- there isn’t really anything to say, right now. He can’t exactly tell Rossi he doesn’t feel anything at all, can’t ask him how he’s supposed to keep doing this, can’t ask him for help in knowing right from fucking wrong.

     Silence stretches between them. It feels like the air is thick and syrupy, it feels like it gets tangled up in his lungs. He forces his fingers on his rifle to flex and work, lest they become too brittle and shatter like glass. Rossi’s gaze strays to whatever lurks behind him and then snaps back to his face, and his hand doesn’t leave his neck, thumb pressed carefully to the line of his jaw. Tahan starts to turn and look at whatever had drawn his attention, but Rossi’s voice cracks out like a whip, and his gaze settles on him once more. “We’ll be moving on soon. Do you have all your gear?”

     The question takes him a moment to process, if only because it’s a strange thing to ask. He looks Rossi over once more, feeling like he’s clawing his way out of the fog in his head desperately, trying to see something within the man before him that’s hidden far too well. His gaze is warm, but there’s something flinty, something brittle about him. Tahan touches his fingers to the elbow of the arm outstretched to him, and then drops them once more. He doesn’t ask him what’s wrong, or what just happened. He doesn’t think he wants to know. He just nods, adjusts his grip on his rifle, and lets his friend lead him away.

[the--sad--hatter]

Phantom pain (2)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION -  Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom. Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Chapter Two - While You Were Sleeping

You had mere minutes to make this plan work.

Racing invisibly through the halls, you brought up the mental map of the facility map you had studied only hours before, making sure to avoid bumping into anything and giving yourself away. Nobody could see you but if you knocked over something or ran into someone, it would give you away.

Sweat poured off you in buckets, going invisible took up a lot of energy but you could do this if you did it fast. You reached the door you were searching for and phased through it and slipped inside. You paused and strained your ears for any sounds, making sure you were alone in the room. You crept through the room, eyes peeled for the right cabinet.

Your skin was burning and you dropped the invisibility, saving your energy for when you left.

You found what you needed and quickly rifled through the files, silently thanking Hydra for being paranoid enough to keep a paper copy of all their files. You slipped out your phone and took pictures of everything, regardless of what it was. Tony could sift through it.

Names, dates and awful pictures caught your eye and you swallowed thickly, trying not to focus on it. Voices drifted down the hallway and you picked up the pace, changing to video camera and rapidly flicking through all the files. You could freeze frame each page later, and by you, you meant Friday.

Someone jostled the door-handle and you slammed the cabinet closed and slipped your phone under the material of your suit. You let your body deteriorate again and the tendrils of odourless smoke you left behind dissipated as an agent opened the door. They didn’t even flinch as you walked straight past them and through the door.

You ran back through the hallways, holding onto the invisibility and didn’t drop it until you were at least a mile away from the facility and walking up the ramp of the shielded quinjet.

“Twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds. You owe me a bottle of Macallan select reserve.” Tony crowed victoriously.

You didn’t have the chance to respond before the floor of the quinjet was rushing towards you and everything went dark.

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

You dragged your eyes open and winced at the bright lights that assaulted your poor innocent eyeballs. Your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool balls and your skin felt like you’d fallen asleep on the beach at high noon.

“Oh my god.”

You turned your head to the side to see who had spoken and saw Tony stood at the door watching you in shock and awe, dropping the beaker he was holding and ignoring it as it smashed against the ground.

“You’re awake.” He said, slowly.

“Oh, is that why my eyes are open?” You croaked.

He stumbled over to your bedside and looked down at you reverently.

“You’re really awake. I thought... we thought...”

“Why are you being so weird?” You said, coughing to clear the scratchy feeling in your throat.

“Princess, you were in a coma.”

“What?” You demanded, well wheezed pathetically.

“You’ve been asleep for three years.”

You tried to sit up in a panic, when Tony started chuckling loudly at the look on your face.

“Oh you fucker.” You rasped.

“Like I’d keep you in my lab for three years, I’d pull the plug as soon as I could.” He joked, ducking to avoid the pillow you threw at him.

“I hate you.” You grumbled.

“Nobody hates me, I’m adored the world over. You were only out for three hours by the way.” He said, lapsing back into laughter as you pouted at the pillow you’d thrown and made grabby hands until he handed it back.

“Everybody hates you, you just pretend otherwise so you don’t shatter that impressively huge ego.”You retorted.

“You think I’m impressive?”

“Fuck off Snark.”

“Fine, I won’t help you remove your IV drip, you can HEY STOP THAT!” He shrieked at you in the middle of sentence as you pulled the IV out.

“What did she do?” Bruce’s worried voice preceded him as he hurried through the door.

“You’re the worst patient ever.” Tony reprimanded you.

You started flatly at Bruce and motioned between yourself and Tony.

“You’re right, he’s a worse patient.” Bruce agreed, checking your vitals.

“Rude. I’m leaving now, you two are ganging up on me again.” Tony muttered as he stalked away, though you noticed him quickly check your vitals himself before he did.

“What’s up doc?” You asked Bruce as the Iron Man flounced away in a huff.

“Same as usual. You over exerted yourself. You were dehydrated so we put you on an IV but since that clearly didn’t last, go drink some water. You’re nearly back to your baseline health.” Bruce said, shaking his head at you fondly.

“Did Snark get the pictures off my phone?” You asked as you sat up and stretched, Bruce hovering over you.

“He did. Friday is combing though them and converting them into computer files for the team.” He said, patting you on the knee proudly.

“I owe you one Friday.” You said.

“You owe me several dozen.” She pointed out.

“Petty doesn’t suit you darlin.” You retorted.

“It looks like you got everything we needed though, as well as a little extra. It would have been a perfect mission if you didn’t pass out again.” Bruce said snarkily.

“Oh good, I can go home before anyone wonders where I was. I’m running out of excuses, I don’t know if I can pull off another ‘rehab’ cover.” You said in relief.

“You might want to shower and change first.” He said, motioning to the Phantom suit you were still wearing.

“Good idea... Friday wanna let me into Tony’s room? I bet he has the fanciest shower.”

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

Bucky had spent far too many hours researching you, flipping through article after article about your drunken adventures and ‘sexcapades’. You were a party animal according to the tabloids, always hitting up clubs and throwing extravagant parties. There was also mention of a few stints in rehab and numerous different flings mentioned.

Surprisingly there were very few photo's of these ‘incidents’. Most likely you were buying off the tabloids to keep the embarrassing pictures out of the articles. Over all, he wasn’t impressed by you at all.

According to Bruce, you were basically a prodigy and if Banner thought that, it must be true. The fact that you were so reckless and stupid when you were so gifted annoyed Bucky. You were brat, and you needed someone in your life to set you on the straight and narrow. But that wasn’t his problem.

His eyes narrowed as you waltzed into the common room, your hair messily piled on your head and your feet bare.

“Making yourself at home?” He asked you.

You glanced up at him nonchalantly.

“Yup.” You said, popping the p at the end as you opened the fridge and perused it’s contents, pulling out a bottle of water and guzzling it.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be busy hacking Hydra?” He asked you.

“Been there, done that.” You said smugly.

“You’re done?” He blinked owlishly at you.

“You did hear the bit where I’m the best in the world, right? Oh my bad, age has probably affected your hearing.” You said, smirking cheekily at him.

He stood up and stalked over to you where you were leaning against the counter-top and pressing the cold water bottle to your neck.

A small drop of condensation dribbled off the glass bottle and into the hollow of your throat and his eyes tracked it as it rolled down your chest and disappeared into the valley between your breasts.

“You’re insolent and egotistical Devchushka. That attitude might amuse Stark but it doesn’t amuse me.” He growled at you.

“Oh.” You said, looking chastised and biting your lip.

“Well, It’s a mighty good thing that I’m not trying to amuse you then Starikashka.” You teased in a seductive purr, winking at him and strutting away.

Yes, somebody definitely needed to put you in your place.

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

“West? Are you here?” You called as you unlocked the front door to your apartment.

Silence was the only answer and you breathed a sigh of relief as you shrugged your coat off and flung it over the back of an armchair.

There was a small chirping meow at your feet and you smiled.

“Hello Frank, did West feed you?” You asked the bulky cat.

Frankenstein, or Frank as you called him wasn’t technically your cat. He was just some ass-hole stray cat who followed you home one night and refused to leave until you fed him. He would disappear for days, sometimes weeks and reappear at will.

You padded over to the kitchen with the infernal cat twisting around your ankles. You noted the dry cleaning hung over a kitchen stool and the foil covered lasagne dish on the counter. Apparently West had stopped by earlier and left food for you.

He was your fathers butler/assistant and had practically raised you so when you moved out of the family home, he didn’t take it well. He came by nearly every day and continued to look after you.

Your phone vibrated in your coat and you skidded across the floor back over to it to read the text.

Snark: You still owe me that bottle of Scotch, just because you swooned into my arms it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that you took more than 20 minutes to get the files. Also, we need another favour.

Snark: If you do this one, I’ll give your suit an upgrade. Be here tomorrow at lunch.

Snark: Bring my scotch.

You scoffed. You knew helping them out would backfire, this was why you had avoided them for so long. You couldn’t afford to have anyone know you were The Phantom and The Avengers were likely to figure it out sooner rather than later.

Still... If they were asking for your help, it was probably important.

“What do you think Frank? Self preservation or desire to do good, which one’s gonna win out?” You asked.

A tail swish was his helpful response.

“Well you’re a cat, of course you’d advocate self preservation.”

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

“Hey Bucknasty, what do you think?” Sam called.

Bucky looked up and frowned, trying to figure out what Sam was talking about.

“Sam wants to ask Princess out, I think he should go for it.” Tony said gleefully.

“Why?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“She’ll eat you alive and leave your mangled corpse on the lawn for your feathered brethren to pick at.” Natasha explained with a smirk.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asked.

“She’s a maneater and a womanizer, think a pre Pepper Tony Stark with boobs...” Sam said, looking excited.

“She’s an infamous heartbreaker.” Natasha clarified.

Tony and Bruce exchanged a subtle look of amusement. Once upon a time, they’d believed those rumours as well. Now they knew you, they knew how untrue it all was. But your reputation was carefully cultivated so they didn’t correct anyone.

“I’m sure she’s not like that really, she seems sweet.” Steve interjected, chivalry demanding he defend your honour even though he didn’t know you.

“Well, one way to find out.” Sam announced.

“Tomorrow will be fun.” Tony said.

Bucky resisted the urge to storm away. For some reason he hated the idea of Sam asking you out. Maybe because despite their bickering he actually considered The Falcon a friend and didn't want to see you get your claws into him.

For someone he’d only met twice, you’d gotten under his skin. He was determined to take you down a few pegs and in the process, keep you from dating his friend.

The fact that he couldn’t stop the image of a droplet of water rolling between your breasts from replaying over and over in his mind didn’t factor into it at all.

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

So, two questions. One) Do you like this story? It's not as good as Name Calling yet. Two) Who are your fave interactions with so far?

You can ask to be added to or removed from tags at any time folks, just comment or inbox :D @lifewandererblog​ @drdorkus​ @gravedollie666​ @sadsoldat​ @bigplantdaddy​ @moodyruth​ @likes-to-smell-books​ @shirukitsune​ @inquisitor-selvala​ @brownle-22 @myfandomlife-blog​ @markusstraya​ @adeleoctobre​ @vajeenparty​ @sexyvixen7​  @love-nakamura​  @buckitybarnes​ @littledeadrottinghood​ @pinkisokay​ @jsmith509​ @brownlee-22​ @angieptt​  @thosesexytexasboys​ @liveonce-sodoitright​ @tarastudiesalot​ @spnrvt​ @dahkness​ @dilaila95​ @rororo06​ @mizzzpink​ @fairislesheets​ @strangersstranger​ @life-wanderer​​ @uuuuuuuuggggghhh​​

[theasgardianbuckylaufeyson]

Enemy or Friend? Finale Part

Summary: Even if the Avengers save you, could it be too late?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings:

AN: The villain in this story is completely made up. And also, I know a couple of people wanted to be tagged in this post, but my tags don’t seem to be working. Once I figure out what is going on with them I will create a taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in my other works.

You could have sworn that you died when all those guards were beating you back in the torture room, but the annoying beeping sound that came from beside you made you think otherwise. If you were dead it wouldn’t be this annoying. At least you hoped it wouldn’t. 

You don’t know how long the beeping continued but after a while the sound of what seemed to be a door stopped you from counting the beeps. Though you couldn’t seem to open your eyes or move any part of your body you could hear perfectly fine. That means that your only way to figure out where you were and what is going on would be to listen to everything around you.

“Come on Buck, the doctors said she isn’t going to wake up anytime soon so there is no point in sitting here allowing yourself to wither away. At least go home, take a shower, and get some food into your system,” you hear the recognizable voice that is Steve Rogers say. 

Bucky?

“She is like this because she was protecting me. There is no way that I am leaving her alone here while she is like this when it is my fault,” you hear Bucky’s distressed tone shakily reply to Steve’s request. The tone of his voice pained you to hear and made you fight harder to open your eyes.  

“And if she sees you in this state when she wakes up how do you think she is going to feel?” Steve retorts causing a sigh to slip past his best friends lips. 

“Fine, but I’m not taking more time than I need to Steve. I’ll take a shower and eat a sandwich then I’m coming right back up here.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you Bucky,” Steve replies solemnly, “I’ll uh, give you a minute to say bye.”

Not even a minute later the door clicks shut and Bucky’s voice appears closer than it was before, “Steve’s making me leave again doll, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise. Try not to wake up until I get back though, okay?” 

When he stops talking you feel something brush against your forehead. Bucky’s mouth. He kissed you, Bucky actually kissed you. As you pull yourself from the shock of Bucky kissing you, you realize that the kiss was the first thing you felt since you began to hear again. You had to pull yourself out of this, if not for yourself then for Bucky and you had to do it fast. 

With all the strength you could muster up you tried to pry your eyes open, only nothing happened. After three more attempts to open your eyes to no avail you groaned internally knowing that he was probably already gone by now. Instead of straining yourself by trying some more and not being able to actually open your eyes when Bucky returns, you try a different approach. 

After waiting some time to ensure that Bucky wouldn’t be in the shower you attempted to astral project yourself to him, but you couldn’t find his aura anywhere in the Avengers compound or Stark Tower. It seemed odd to you since he was supposed to be in one of those two places and you instantly began to worry. 

What if HYDRA got him while he was leaving the building? Him and Steve are strong, but they would be prepared to turn him back into their asset the moment they set eyes on him. The idea that Bucky could be in trouble sent you into a panic and your eyes shot open. The moment the hospital lights began to blind you sensitive eyes you were sitting up without a care in the world about the pain in your ribs. Instantly your hand was reaching down to rip the tube out when the door to your hospital room burst open to reveal a frantic Bucky. 

“Hey, hey Y/N you’re okay. Just lay back and relax, I’m going to go get the doctors okay?” he soothes you softly as he pulls your hand off of where the iv is implanted into your arm and nudges you to lay back. 

Once he sees that you are calm he rushes from the room only to return a few minutes later with multiple nurses and a doctor in tow. They all surround your bed in order to check your vitals before the doctor announces that he is going to remove your feeding tube since you are finally awake and should be able to eat on your own. You were attached to a lot more things than your iv, but you didn’t notice any of them because you were too worried about whether or not Bucky was safe. 

Eventually the doctors finished examining you and left to let you rest. You had just woken up from a coma and had no plans on sleeping anytime soon no matter how much the doctors urged you too. All you wanted was to see Bucky, you knew that he was okay but now it was about something else. He kissed you. Sure it was only a kiss on the forehead and you may be making this into something it’s not, but before you were held by HYDRA he hated you and you wanted to know what changed. 

He must have knew what you wanted because as soon as the nurses left the whole team rushed inside. Some of them apologized for not trusting you soon and others embraced you, joyous and thankful that you were alive. You had seen everyone except for the one person you were longing to see by the time the whole team filed out of your room that night and to say you were disappointed was an understatement. 

“Hey, Steve” you called out hoarsely as he began to leave behind everyone else.

“Yeah?” he asks stopping by the door to wait for your response. 

“Do you- Uh, do you know where Bucky went?” your voice sounds more hopeful than you want it to when you ask the question and you can see the look of understanding appearing in the captains eyes.

“I haven’t seen him since we got here, I’m sorry Y/N,” he explains softly before quickly adding in, “he’ll be by though, I know that’s for sure. He hasn’t left your side since we got you back, I doubt he’s going to start now.” 

With a nod of understanding you say goodbye to Steve before he leaves your room. As the door clicks shut behind him your mind begins to race once again. They came back for you after everything. Bucky never left your side while you were in a coma. Your whole team finally accepted you for who you were. So much had come to light since you woke up that you were beginning to think that you truly did die and this was some fucked up version of a dream.

All those thoughts flew out the window when a knock on your door dragged you back to earth. 

“Come in,” you call quietly before a coughing spell takes over thanks to the dryness in your throat. 

You hear the door open through your coughing then some rushed footsteps before a cup i being thrust into your face, “Drink this doll, it’ll help your throat.” 

Silently you drink from the cup but continually glancing up at the supersoldier before you. There are so many questions you want to ask the man before you but all you can do is drink from the cup of water that is being held to your lips until there is no more left to drink. 

“There, is that better?” he asks as he sets the now empty cup back onto the table beside your bed. 

“Yeah, thank you Bucky,” you reply quietly while you fiddle with the blanket draped over your body.

Neither of you speak again, a heavy silence falls over you both while waiting for the other to speak first. After a while it seems like the silence is going to last forever when Bucky finally speaks up, “I uh- I never got a chance to say thank you. After you saved me. I was too busy being a jerk to see that it was a trap and because of that you got stuck back in that horrible place.” 

“Hey, Bucky me being captured wasn’t nowhere near your fault. Even if you were listening to me from the start of the mission you wouldn’t have known that it was a trap. If anything this is my own fault. I should have known the moment we stepped foot in that room but it’s been so long I guess I forgot what my own room looked like,” you explain sadly, “If it took me any longer to see what was happening they would have got you too.”

“This is nowhere near your fault Y/N. You almost died trying to protect the secrets of shield and trying to protect me, nothing in this situation shows that you are in the wrong.”

“My parents did this, if I wasn’t born none of this would have happened,” you retort sadly as tears well in your eyes. 

“Don’t,” Bucky begins in a strained tone, “Don’t ever say that again Y/N because if you weren’t born than I don’t know what I would do. None of this is on you. You couldn’t choose what family you were born into or the choices that they made, but you can choose your own and you did. And if you didn’t make the choice to be good then I would have never saved you that day when Vada. Your parents would have never gave you the powers you have today, the powers you use to save people. The same ones you used to save me, Wanda, and Pietro numerous times even before we all knew each other personally.”

“I thought you hated me Bucky, why are you tell me all of this now?” 

“Because I could never hate you Y/N, in fact it’s quite the opposite. I love you. I have since I was turned into the winter soldier and saved you all those years ago, but I wouldn’t allow myself to show it because I was scared. I didn’t want my feelings for you to bring back the monster I was before so I repressed them the only way I could think of. With anger and hatred. For a while I even began to believe what I was telling myself too. Until we went back to that building and every single memory came back to me. How I felt the first time I returned from a mission and saw you. The day I found out your parents didn’t plan on bringing you back to the facility because of me and I tore through nearly half the guards they had on staff before they finally changed their minds. But the one memory that stood out over every other one was the day you never came back,” Bucky says seriously to you, only stopping once to take a brief breath, “I knew they were taking you to a new facility. I also knew what day you were suppose to return since you father didn’t want to lose any more man by hiding the information from me. They knew you were my weakness. I assumed when you didn’t return that it was a part of their plan, until I learned about SHIELD. I knew they took you but what I didn’t know was that you wanted to go. Even as the soldier I felt heartbroken at the loss of you. That’s why I was harsher than normal even after you came to me while you were still trapped. I regretted everything I said the moment the words left my mouth, but I didn’t know what to do. You were there because of me and yet you didn’t want anyone to come back for you.”

For a couple minutes after Bucky finished talking you sat in shock and silence going over everything that was just laid on you. You could see Bucky nervously playing with his hands while he waited for your response that came a few minutes later, “I never wanted to leave you back then Buck, and if I would’ve known soon that you were Steve’s best friend I would have told him so we could go back for you. But all I knew was that you were extremely quiet and my savior on more occasions than one. When you were found some time later I didn’t hesitate to fight beside Steve for your safety even if it meant risking myself, even if you seemed to hate my guts. I fell in love with you when you saved me at seventeen and that didn’t change over the years. It’s actually why I gave my freedom up for you again back at that base, I thought if I could prove myself to you then maybe you wouldn’t hate me.”

“You had nothing to prove doll, because even while I was brainwashed it was always you.”

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours (Part Six - End)

Welcome.      Part One.    Part Two.       Part Three.       Part Four.     Part Five

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains extreme injuries yet recovery, please be cautious if you are sensitive to these subjects.

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Levi had expected this to be the end, preparing himself to be shot or thrown off of a bridge. He was an unconscious heap and his thoughts were foggy, his body unable to wake yet his mind alert. He thought about Sage and JoJo, Lucas and Clyde and anyone else he was going to let down.

He was prepared to accept the fact that he was going to die for nothing.

Levi took a controlled breath, the first one since he had been drugged, and groaned as the drug slowly began to unleash his mind from its grasp. He coughed and clenched his eyes, his body tingling with pins and needles.

He wasn’t at the bottom of a river, at least.

It took him a minute before he felt conscious enough to move and began by spreading out his fingers, tracing the rough ground of a pavement and immediately forced his eyes open. There he saw dark blurs illuminated by orange streetlights, the silhouettes of the nightly figures passing by.

Levi pressed his hand to his face to ensure that his glasses were still there, yet cursed when he found them vacant, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows to try and locate them. Levi groped the ground and touched something different than the familiar shape of his glasses, gazing down as he picked it up and squinted. Though it was a messy blur, it was unmistakable. It was the jar containing Clyde’s soul. 

He let out a short cry and clutched it to his chest, sitting up and feeling his knee press into his glasses. Levi grabbed them clumsily and put them back on, glad to see clearly despite there being a crack in the left lens. He looked at the soul and breathed out, thankful that its surface was intact and, most importantly, unharmed.

Levi raised his head and looked around, immediately recognising where he was. He was a block away from the facility, he could see the towering building in the distance. He saw two passers by who looked concerned at him but hurried along, not wishing to speak to the man clutching a soul and hadn’t seen a bed or a shower in three days.

He staggered up to his feet, stumbling against the wall as the drug still lingered in his body. He breathed heavily and pressed the jar close to himself, the pain in his chest becoming apparent in his laboured breaths. Still, Levi didn’t give up. He didn’t care anymore. He was getting this soul back to Clyde, even if it meant he collapsed.

The doctor began running, a limp in his step and his face full of his last, dying determination.

.

Clyde’s surgery could not legally continue without his soul. 

The past three days had been constant surgery and tests on his fragile body but at least now they had managed to mend his knee and properly treat his spine. Lucas was absolutely broken by now, breaking down into his bandaged hands and crying his apologies for hours on end. Yet Clyde just kept looking at the light mindlessly, the heart monitor signalling his only sign of sentience.

The law had a rule that any Husks that had not had their soul returned within a week would have to be put to sleep, since they knew that it was only torture to the person who experienced it.

Lucas’ mind was breaking as each day passed yet there was no hope in tracking the soul, Levi or the murderous couple. All of them were completely off the grid and he did not know what to do other than cry and drink away his sorrows.

As Lucas’ mind swirled, so did his anger. Every moment he saw the love of his life wounded like this was only making his desire to slaughter those maniacs even greater. They were going to pay for their actions and he would get them off of this planet, even if it killed him. He was sick to death of their abuse and tyranny over the city. They had committed so much crime that people were terrified to leave their homes, they had shot Tyrell through the chest and he was only just starting to properly heal, they had killed three of his men and had most likely done the same to Levi.

He had been missing in action for three days now and the inability to track him was driving Sage to a breakdown. He had called Levi hundreds of times, refused to sleep, ran patrols whenever he could and sent out countless search parties just to try and track his husband. No amount of reasoning or reassurance could reach him and it was clear he wasn’t going to stop until he knew where Levi was. He panicked endlessly about his safety, his lack of medication or proper physical care for his body and broke down into tears at the thought of him being trapped somewhere with no help. They were all lost and their hope was depleting. 

The only one who had the slightest bit of hope was Daniel, who was still close to giving up but only holding on because Tyrell had woken up and was able to start speaking again.

“Do you need anything?” Dan asked for the third time this hour, interlocking his fingers with him.

“No, no... I’m alright,” Ty said quietly, contently gazing into his eyes, “You should sleep, darling...”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Dan admitted fearfully, reaching out and stroking his cheek, “I’m too scared.”

“I told you, I’m alright...” He assured him gently, leaning into his hand and kissing his palm. He looked at the bed and, with effort, managed to moved himself to the side.

“D-Don’t move, Ty, you’ll hurt yourself,” Dan stood up anxiously, hovering his hand over the bandaged would, “What’s the matter? Do you need me to get Dr Eren?”

“No..” Ty replied, holding his hand securely, “You can get in the bed with me...so I can stay with you whilst you sleep.”

“I don’t want to dislodge any of your IVs-” He tried to protest but Ty gently pulled him down and he couldn’t resist it. He needed a hug so badly...

He snuggled under Ty’s arm and slid his hand under his back, looking up at him tearfully. The scarred demon smiled softly and wrapped his arm around him, just managing to kiss his head and keep his arm in a position that would not disrupt any of the wires connected to his skin. Dan hugged his stomach and gently nestled his head on his shoulder, curling up and tangling his legs with Ty’s as he closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat whilst Ty lovingly stroked his hair.

“Just sleep, babe, you’ve been awake long enough...” He murmured soothingly, closing his own eyes and listening to Dan gradually start to slip asleep. Just before they could, however, a yell startles them awake as Sage stormed past outside.

“Sage, calm down!” Lydia warned him.

“No! No, I will not be calm!” He cried, “Levi is out there and no one else is trying to help him! Clyde was found in less than a day but when it is Levi you all just deem him to be dead!”

“Clyde was different, we had evidence to track him,” She raised her hands to try and settle him, “We’re doing everything we can to find him, you need to calm down.”

“I don’t need to do anything but find my husband,” He insisted, “Just let me go on another patrol!”

“We’ve been on ten in the last few days, what makes you think that this one will bring any evidence?”

“I need to try!” Sage said, clutching his hair, “He could be trapped somewhere and be unable to talk o-or call out! He could have been wounded by Zyren or Flin, you saw what they do to doctors!”

Ty tensed up, holding his chest and pulled Dan, who was breathing quickly, closer to himself to try and calm him down.

“I know you’re upset, Sage, just please listen to me,” Lydia said, “Just lower your voice, you’re upsetting the patients...”

Sage gazed over at them and covered his face, letting out a frustrated cry before breaking for the elevator with Lydia running after him.

He collapsed against the wall and looked at the ascending elevator, repeatedly pressing the button in desperation and shifting on his feet with impatience. Why was the elevator taking so long?

Sage was just about to run for the stairs when the doors pulled back and revealed a shocking sight.

It was Levi. He was standing there in dirty clothing with a determined expression but endless pain and exhaustion in his worn features. He was clutching something to his chest and his glasses were cracked. When he saw Sage he did a double take.

Sage gasped at the sight of him and cried out his name whilst Levi did the same. Levi staggered into his arms and Sage picked him up, clinging to him as tightly as he could without hurting him.

“Levi!” He wept, “I was so scared! I was so scared!”

“Oh thank god, Levi-” Lydia breathed out, “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

“Le-Levi, I’m- I’m- so glad you’re...I thought...” Sage stammered, holding his hand against Levi’s hair, “Oh fuck, what happened to you? Where were you!? I was so worried!”

Levi held him tightly. He wanted to just let his legs give way and stay in his arms forever, but he had one last thing to do before he could let himself rest. It took effort, but he reluctantly pulled away with a dreary voice. “I need Clyde,” He looked around, “I need to get to him, what ward is he in?”

“Levi...” Sage tried to hold onto him but the doctor was already stumbling off. He looked at Lydia with worry and followed after him with her at his side. 

Lydia glanced at Levi’s hand as he rushed around the corner and her eyes widened. “Holy shit, he’s got Clyde’s soul!”

.

Clyde’s mother, Marie, was weeping into her hands whilst his father, Otto, tried to console her with tears running down his own cheeks. They were initially deployed overseas on military business but rushed back as soon as they could when they received a phone call of what had happened. They were two German military workers with Marie as the lead nurse in first aid and Otto as the lead General, they were confident and collected in their profession but when it came down to their only child getting hurt, it shattered them to pieces.

Eren tried to warn them of the extent of their son’s injuries but Otto pushed past him. Lucas had never seen Otto show such horror and pain before and his chest burned with guilt and he held his hand.

“My baby...” Marie sobbed when she saw him, running her hand through his hair and resting her forehead on his before collapsing on the chair and covering her face.

“Who did this to him?” Otto asked, anger in his tone.

“Flinar and Zyren,” Lucas replied coldly, his chin rested against Clyde’s loose fingers, “I am going to kill them for what they’ve done.”

“What... what the person said over the phone about him being...” She couldn’t say it but Lucas’ ears lowered, immediately knowing what she was referring to, “Please tell me it isn’t true...”

He looked away tearfully and she only wailed more, having to be pulled into Otto’s arms so she could sob. Otto was shaking.

“I’ll kill them with my bare hands,” He stated shakily with fury, “I’ll put them through exactly what they did to him but ten times worse!”

“My baby boy... they were so cruel!” Marie sobbed, “He didn’t do anything to deserve treatment like this!”

“I will do everything in my power to make sure he is safe and happy...” Lucas said, trying not to break down himself, “I’ll-”

He was cut off by someone bursting inside the ward, making them flinch in surprise when a very dishevelled Levi staggered inside and held up a jar containing Clyde’s soul. Lucas sprung up to his feet in an instant and caught Levi before he could fall, yet the doctor pulled away and grabbed the bed railings with a heavy stumble.

“Where were you, Levi?” Lucas asked in shock, “How did you get it back?!”

“Just fucking shut up,” Levi wheezed, Sage putting his arm around his waist. He pulled the lid off the top and let the soul drift outward into his palm, its surface flickering. Clyde’s eyes finally drifted from the light and rested on his soul, making a weak whimper as his hand tried to reach out for it.

Levi pulled away once more and leaned over him, turning his hand over and pressing the mint coloured orb against Clyde’s chest, watching as his chest glowed a soft turquoise and feeling the soul sink into his being. The wounded doctor took a deep, sentient breath as the colour soaked back into his eyes and returned some colour to his cheeks.

He rolled his head and opened his eyes as much as he could, seeing Levi standing over him and watching him in pained confusion as he broke down and smiled. “You fucking idiot,” Levi choked out, but he was smiling, “You better appreciate being alive, don’t you ever scare us like that again.”

Clyde was too dizzy to comprehend what he said, it sounded like his head was underwater.. there was so much going on.

He reached into his pocket and set something on the foot of his bed before his mind clouded over and he found himself collapsing backwards into Sage’s arms and falling unconscious. Sage caught him and picked him up, worriedly shaking him but Lydia put her arm around him as Lucas stood there dumbfounded on what to do.

“Let’s get him patched up,” She said, guiding him out of the ward to the office.

Marie was holding Clyde’s cheek in her hand and running her thumb under his bruised eye whilst Otto held his other hand.

“..mami...” He croaked, trying his best to lean into her hand, “It hurts...”

“I know, Seerose, I know,” She whispered, “We’re going to take good care of you, we’ll make you better.”

Clyde tried to sit up but let out a cry of pain and Lucas panicked, lying him down again as he looked at him.

“Oh god, Clyde... I’m so sorry,” Lucas said. He had so much he wanted to apologise for. He wanted to collapse to his knees and sob for hours whilst begging him to forgive his foolishness. He wanted to say so much but he knew now wasn’t the time, he knew he needed the most support right now. “You’re safe now, they’re never going to hurt you again, I promise.”

He gazed down at his fingers and then at the foot of the bed where he saw Levi place something. It was glinting in the light above. His wedding ring. He let out a desperate whine for it and Lucas turned towards where he was looking, retrieving it and gently shushing him. He slipped it onto his finger and kissed his forehead.

“Thought...lost it,” He whispered in relief, looking down at it but still wanting to cry... it made him feel better but his pain would not stop.

Clyde was overwhelmed with emotions and pain, he could not move and he could not feel his leg. He whimpered, gripping Lucas’ hand as tight as he could, he needed support more than ever. Especially when he twitched his leg, which made the colour drain from his face when he realised.

The memories flooded back and he struggled for breath, forcing his arms despite the pain and pulling off the sheets.

“Clyde, don’t look-” Otto tried but he couldn’t stop the inevitable truth and he clenched his fist around the bed’s support handles. He pressed his lips together.

Clyde stared in disbelief. Up until now he had hoped it was all bad dream, a nightmare that took too long to end and was all but over. But it was all true. His right leg was in a brace and his left one... was gone.

“Leg...” He got out, the ventilator forcing him to take deep breaths which drugged his dizzy mind, “My leg...”

“Baby... it is okay, you’re gonna be okay...” Lucas stroked his hair but Clyde wasn’t in the condition to be reassured. He stared wide eyed and pressed his sore head into the pillow, crying out as Marie stroked his cheek.

Clyde finally broke down, letting out all of his trauma in broken, hoarse wails whilst his family comforted him all the while.

.

Several months had gone by since the incident. It was difficult for everyone at first since Clyde needed so much treatment, which made him incredibly guilty and upset. It was a long road before he was allowed home.

He was taken out in a wheelchair by Lucas, who was so supportive and loving despite Clyde worrying that he was too much of a burden. Otto and Marie followed at his sides as they took him home for the first time, greeted by their children and Tyrell, who was still in psychical therapy but looked happier than ever. Dan was also slowly improving from the mental stress he was put under and managed a few smiles and hugs where he could.

Lucas was determined to kill Flinar and Zyren once and for all and was just about to leave on his mission that night when Clyde took his sleeve and quietly begged him not to. He had a pained expression talking about them but despite everything they had done, he still believed that they could have a chance to improve. Lucas gave in, unable to protest against his sweetheart and took off his armour to spend the night watching a movie in bed despite Clyde falling asleep on him only a quarter way through. As for Flinar and Zyren, there was no criminal reports from them at all, whether it was because of Flinar’s injury or something else, he didn’t know, but Levi refused to tell anyone what had happened whilst he was gone.

For two months Clyde was practically bed bound, merely watching the world go by from his bedroom window when he wasn’t being taken back to the facility for endless amounts of treatment, surgery and therapy. He was dead silent for most of it, flinching at anything that moved too quickly and panicking whenever he could see the basement or any kind of mechanical tool. He was self conscious, hiding away in bed and not smiling at all since his missing tooth made him incredibly embarrassed. Clyde felt like a burden to the entire family, feeling ashamed of his continuous nightmares which made him sleep with the light on and hug Lucas’ arm whilst he slept.

He was clingy to his family members, getting frightened when he was left on his own for too long so, to help ease his worries, they gave him a plush rabbit which helped improve the fear, especially when Shadow - Clyde’s cat - came to console him. After that things gradually began to improve.

He would eat his entire dinner and make conversation, giving loving kisses and hugs to all of his family members when they got close to him. He and Dan would sit in the living room together and give each other manicures, watch movies all day or just eat take away food and talk. The therapy with Levi was finally starting to pay off and the physio with Sage started to improve his overall health, especially when the prosthetic came in to play.

It was a long process getting him to adjust, with many tears, falls and meltdowns but Lucas remembered watching Clyde successfully walk down the walkway for the first time with absolutely no support. He waited at the other end tearfully and held out his arms. Clyde had wobbled and paused twice but he eventually reached his husband and grasped his hands, kissing him. Lucas had looked at his face and held it in his hands, telling him over and over how proud he was and then Clyde smiled for the first time in months.

He had a new, fake tooth fitted into his mouth but even then he hadn’t smiled until now. He was grinning and holding Lucas’ hands in his own, his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes shining. It was the most beautiful thing Lucas had ever seen.

((The End))

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This was super messy and definitely rushed but I really wanted to get this done! Despite it all, it was still fun to spill this lore into a story and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Thank you for reading. See you later! <3