#please keep your eyes alert for these people and spread the word

[itstokkii]

it's only been a month and we've already spotted two(2) fascists(one a zionist, one a nazi) in this fandom who try to get by making an "Israel Chan" OC with AI to do the dirty work and make art for this person because apparently they couldn't be bothered to draw instead of using a system well known for stealing from artists online, shipping it with Germany(???), getting pissed because they said they shipped their OC with Hungary on the hetalia subreddit causing the OP of the post abt Hungary as a character blocking said fascist due to discomfort, which results in them deciding to make their own subreddit??? as they continue to rant and rave abt the fandom being "antisemitic towards them" for hating them in posts with multiple fonts and sizes like they're stuck in a steel room for days with nothing but a padlock diary and a box of crayons. bonus deal because they're also actively transphobic and race fetishizing on their twt acc.

(helpful tip: the reason why we're mad is because you support a genocidal(pushing out, killing palestinians, so much more horrifying things), settler colonial regime's existence! not because you're jewish!)

and then on the other hand you have someone hiding under the guise of "I love drawing historical art and fashion of specifically Germany and Austria during this specific period of time!" and drawing both with the iron cross on their uniforms for "historical accuracy," with their pfp being a german soldier from a specific time period...

what a fandom lolol

[petrichorium]

you know jing yuan has been watching you since you emerged from the bathroom.

he lays in the bed, eyes blissfully closed whenever you sneak a glimpse—the covers are haphazardly tossed over his body and he gives a perfectly sound impression of himself dozing away in the dimmed light of the hotel room, but you know better.

you can feel his gaze on you every time you look away; have felt it since you’d stepped out in a bathrobe and turned your back on him to put on your clothes. you’d have thought that he’d jump at the chance to zip up the minidress you’d chosen; apparently, whatever intent he has with his faux sleep outweighs his typical enthusiasm to put his hands on your body.

(you emphasize your struggle anyway, pouting and sighing and all but audibly lamenting how oh, you wish your handsome boyfriend were awake, his hands are so much more skilled and steady, to no avail)

those eyes are still closed when you turn to make your way towards the vanity. you’d splurged on the hotel room, admittedly eager to show your lover the best your home system has to offer, though he’d probably name the bed as his favorite part.

jing yuan’s eyes had lit up when he’d first seen it—a large cupped thing like a bowl, lined with plush cushion and plenty spacious enough to comfortably fit five people. it’s built out into a bubble window on one side of the bedroom and the vanity you currently sit at is placed opposite, thus a perfect vantage point for him to observe you as you pull your stockings up your legs and then set about doing your makeup—which, as you apply a final choice of lipgloss, is now complete. with a quick glance to the clock ensuring you and he still have half an hour before you need to leave, you stand and turn to look at him.

while he relaxes his face and keeps his eyes stubbornly shut, it’s no coincidence that he turns over with your motion. it pulls the covers mostly off his body, ruffles his hair. the sigh he lets out is content, not sounding tired in the slightest. you huff a laugh.

he shifts again. the sheet falls further—almost nothing covers him now, little more than a strip of cotton across one upper thigh that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination with how wide his legs have been spread.

you approach the bed fully, padding over with stocking-covered feet on the carpeted floor until you stand right behind him. reaching out, you brush his bangs up out of his eyes and over his forehead, bending over at the same time to look over his lounging form.

“i know what you’re doing,” you say sternly, though you’re gentle as your fingertips caress him. “it won’t work.”

“won’t it?” jing yuan’s voice isn’t even laced with sleep; it’s perfectly alert, teasing, as he tilts his head back to give you more access.

you press a sticky kiss to his forehead. it leaves a shimmering mark of your lip gloss, tinted a faint pink. “you don’t have to come. you’re more than welcome to stay behind if you want.”

“we could remain here for a night in,” he counters. “this bed is… a marvel.”

his words have you giggling lightly. this time you kiss the mole just beneath his closed eye, drawing a heavy, pleased sigh from the elegant curve of his lips. your hand cradles his cheek, thumb reaching out to trace his cupid’s bow.

“tempting as that may be, we have a very limited amount of time on this trip. i’m not giving up on the only night i’ll be able to spend time with my friends like this.”

his hand, large and calloused and warm, reaches up to stop yours from pulling away. he turns into your touch, nuzzling at your palm with a petulantly grumbling noise. still, when his rough fingers move to lace with yours, you slip from his grasp and step away.

“i’m going with or without you, jing yuan,” you declare. “but if you’d like to come, you need to get ready now.”

“how very demanding. i must say, i thought i had successfully evaded orders when i took leave…” now he yawns and makes a show of stretching. you watch him shift, all lethargic grace, every motion meticulously planned—thighs tensing, stomach twitching, arms bulging. a display for you, a last-ditch effort to seduce you back into bed.

you snicker. it won’t work, but you’re hardly inclined to complain. it’s a pretty sight to see regardless; all that honed muscle working beneath porcelain skin, those scattered moles and full brush of stark white hair only emphasizing each sinewy movement. you’re drawn nearer once more, inclined to get a better look—that’s your mistake.

above all else your lover is a cunning man. it’s a miracle he put that mind to use for good, because he utilizes it for far more sinister things when it comes to you. beckoning you closer, setting up the trap, baiting it with his own body; your legs meet the edge of the bed and, though he’s still only halfway onto his stomach, a big hand darts out to catch behind your knee, so fast you don’t realize what’s happened until he’s dragging you towards him with inescapable strength.

your shin drags over the bed’s lowered entrance. the sheer speed of it all has you stumbling, only just managing to catch yourself with a hand on the raised side.

jing yuan lets out a disappointed little grunt. his touch is gentle, coaxing, as he attempts to pull your leg even closer. when that proves futile he eases himself towards you and presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. tilting his head up, he fixes you with a heavy-lidded look, those striking golden eyes glinting beneath long, pretty lashes.

“are you certain i cannot convince you to stay?”

“yes,” you answer without hesitation, entirely unmoved by his responding whine. you remain stoic, too, when he drags your lower leg into the bed and begins to kiss down the side of your calf, lips searing, lingering longer and longer with each press to your stocking-covered skin. upon reaching your ankle he gives far too much attention there; free hand reaching around to grab hold of your foot and maneuver it to let him pepper nipping kisses along the top.

with your face growing hot and your leg squirming beneath his attention, you forget entirely about his other hand—until it pinches at the thin fabric behind your knee and tugs, fast and hard. the mesh rips with ease, a run tearing down the length of your calf. you yelp, attempting to pull back but stopped by the immovable grip he has on you. he sinks his teeth into the back of your ankle just enough that you’re certain it’ll leave a mark, but when he pulls away it’s obvious what his true intent was.

this time the rip is loud, fabric caught between his canines and giving way like tissue paper. you stumble back and yelp out a protest; his grip becomes solid, tugs you back to him so strongly that you lose your footing and spill into the soft drum beyond. he’s atop you instantly, caging you in with a thick arm on either side of your head.

“jing yuan!” your wail is swallowed by a kiss, but even as his tongue delves into the hot cavern of your mouth it cannot distract from the tattered remains of your stockings. you lift your knee to brace it against his chest; there’s a loud, wet sound as he finally pulls away from your mouth and buries his face into your neck.

“stay,” he groans out between each searing, open-mouthed suck at your skin. “let me hoard you, let me keep you to myself—”

“i thought that was my job?” your words catch and come out breathy as he trails lower, running a hand down the side of your body and then shamelessly shoving it up the hem of your dress—which has, admittedly, ridden up indecently high. still, you do your best to continue. “stealing you away from your responsibilities on the luofu.”

“a dual effort, then. we must be made for each other, my dear.”

his grip on your thigh is almost painful. he nuzzles at the other, reverent, eyes clouded over when they dare to flit up to meet yours. when his tongue pokes out from between plush lips, wetting them and then retreating, you realize the intent seconds before he bows his head.

you’re faster. your hand flies to his hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking back just before he manages to burrow beneath your skirt. for half a moment the pair of you remain there, frozen—his lips halfway parted, your chest heaving with pants. you blink. then you slowly ease your legs from beneath his torso.

“i told you,” you say, tightening your grip until his eyes flutter and he lets out an obscene, unabashed groan, “it won’t work. you can wait until after we come home.”

you’re precise as you peel yourself away; you keep your spare hand free to swat at any further attempts to pin you, slide your body out from beneath him until you can perch up upon the bed’s entrance and catch your breath as you stare down at him.

jing yuan props his head in his hand and returns your look. you click your tongue, but it’s impossible to fight back the affection in your tone. “scoundrel.”

his lips twitch. “so they say.”

“it’s deserved.”

“i can hardly deny it. i only wish you put up less of a fight.”

“no you don’t.”

“no,” he concedes, “i don’t.”

finally you turn and stand. the feeling of the carpet beneath your bare foot reminds you that you need to change your stockings—you frown as you glance at tattered remains of fabric on your leg.

“bastard,” you hiss out, far more venomous than the previous accusation. your suitcase lies closed upon the dresser; you approach it to dig through for your spare.

behind you, still, you hear no sound of motion. you sigh loudly, dropping the ball of socks in your hand and turning your head just barely to give jing yuan a lidded look where he’s draped himself over the side of the bed, arms crossed and biceps bulging as he watches you. never one to give up; a stubborn, bullheaded man who would chase you to the farthest reaches of the universe for a single kiss, only spurred onward by your fleeing.

perhaps you’ll throw him a bone.

“if you’re fast enough,” you begin sweetly, “i’ll let you help me into this new pair.”

he’s up instantly, darting for the bundle of clothes you’d set out for him before you’d even showered with a speed rarely seen outside of the battlefield. the offer will make you late, surely, and quite possibly cost you your second pair of stockings—you’re well aware his mind is running wild with schemes to bury his head between your thighs and glut himself on his well-earned prize in whatever fleeting time you might give him before finally shoving him away.

but what kind of leisure trip would it be if you didn’t give in to his whims?

[darkbluekies]

I'M A SILAS SIMP!!! Can we get a date with him? Like a cute date and we get scared cause maybe we're falling in love with him pleeeease

My Valentine<3

Mafia!yandere x reader Valentine's special

Summary: Silas hates Valentine’s, but this year, he's going to spoil you. You find yourself actually enjoying his love and start to question if you really hate him.

Warnings: a bit of nudity (not sexual), kissing, Stockholm syndrome

Word count: 1.8k

Valentine’s day. Normally Silas absolutely despises this day. It’s just a cringy holiday to make people try to believe in love that doesn’t exist. This year though, he plans to go all out! It’s his first Valentine’s day with you, his little darling! He wants you to loosen up and see how much he really cares for you. He has everything planned. First you’ll go to a nice restaurant and eat dinner then to a hotel for some ultimate luxury.

He’s got you a cute outfit for you to wear today. He hopes that it’s going to make you feel a bit happier about today. He knows that you don’t want to go anywhere with him. 

“Here you go, pretty”, Silas smiles and places down a paper bag on the bed. “Dress yourself. I have big plans for today.”

“I’m not in the mood …”, you mumble without looking at him. 

“I think you will be. Look in the bag, baby.”

The curiosity takes control and you sneak a look into the bag. Red clothing and new shoes. 

“Put those on”, Silas smirks. “I think you’ll look really good.”

He sinks down in his armchair, spreads his legs and leans back to watch you. You get up from bed and lift up the new clothes you’ve gotten, feeling it in your hands. 

“Are you going to watch me?” you ask quietly. 

“Of course”, Silas smiles, eyes darker than the darkest night. “It’s Valentine’s day … let me enjoy it as much as I can.”

You roll your eyes. “Do you want me to give you a show, mister? Is that it?”

“I mean, I’d love to-”

You grab the pillow and throw it at his face. Silas chuckles and hugs the soft thing, leaning his head back at the wall. You keep your eyes glared at him as you change clothes. Silas will never get enough of seeing your body. It feels like he’s getting blinded by your beauty everytime he sees you. You signal for him that he can stop staring, that you’re done dressing yourself now. 

“Wow”, he breathes and walks over to you. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’m so happy to have you, I hope you know that.”

His hands hold your waist in a tight grip. 

“You look perfect, my love”, he whispers. “Let’s go now. We’ll have so much fun.”

He holds his arm around your waist as he leads you down to the car. His chauffeur opens the door for the two of you and Silas tells him to stop looking at you. The chauffeur apologies when he realizes that he’s been looking at you a bit too long. Silas holds your hand on the car ride, kissing the skin over and over again. You keep your eyes out the window, hating the way you actually feel a bit warm inside. You blame it on the day.

“Can you please look at me?” Silas begs. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”

You glance over at him and he smiles. 

“There we go”, he cooes. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“No”, you answer truthfully. “And it’s kind of freaking me out …”

“Don’t be scared, beautiful. Everything today is in your favor. You will love everything I’ve prepared for you.” He seems to become alert. “Oh, we’re here. Driver, stay here.”

Silas opens the door and pulls you out on the sidewalk. You look around and finds the sign of a fancy restaurant in front of you. With a gasp, you cover your mouth. 

“I know how you’ve been dreaming about eating here”, Silas says and takes your hand in his. “And now I’m going to grant you your wish.”

You take another look towards the restaurant. The lights look dim and there doesn’t seem to be any people inside. if there’s a day a restaurant should be full, it is Valentine’s … 

“It looks empty, Silas”, you say. “I don’t think it’s open.”

“Silly thing, I’ve booked it for us”, Silas chuckles. “I can’t stand watching other people look at you. I had to get the entire restaurant for myself so I can have you all to myself too. Let’s go inside and get some dinner.”

Silas opens the door and leads you inside. The staff start to welcome you and show you the table they’ve prepared for you. You think that they seem a bit tense and you can’t blame them. Silas temper and occupation is enough to cause a whole city to leave in panic. 

You sit down in front of him with your hands in your lap. A waiter comes to give you the menus and you notice that yours doesn’t have any prices listed in it. 

“How am i supposed to know what things cost if I can’t see it?” you ask. 

“That’s the thing, Y/N, you shouldn’t see”, Silas says with a fond smile. “Choose whatever you want. Don’t think of the price, just pick what you think is yummy, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“I took you here, didn’t I? Choose whatever you want, little thing.”

You look through the menu as if your life depends on it, afraid to choose the wrong thing. The chances of coming back here might be slim. Finally, after almost ten minutes of intense reading, you end up with salmon. Silas smiles and tells you that you made a good choice. In this dim light, he almost looks sweet. Of course, he chooses steak.

“Are you happy to be out?” Silas asks when the waiters have taken your orders.  

You nod hesitantly without looking at him. Silas smiles and leans over the table to take your hand in his. The grip is gentle.

“I’ve never celebrated valentine’s day before”, he admits and smiles sheepishly. “I thought it was stupid. But not anymore. Not if it is with you. I’ll spoil you, baby, as if every day was valentine’s day. I’ll worship you and treat you like royalty. I love you, so so much.”

You squirm in your seat at his words. Normally, every syllable feels like spiders crawling down your skin. You wish he didn’t say these things, you never know what to respond. But today, instead of spiders, it feels like electricity. It makes you freeze with realization. No …

“What’s wrong, baby?” Silas asks with furrowed brows. “Are you feeling well?”

You meet his dark, worried eyes and feel your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yes, I’m okay”, you say quietly.

“If you don’t feel well, we can go straight back home.”

You shake your head quickly and decide to change the subject. 

“Can’t you tell me about yourself for once?” you ask. “You always want to know about me. I want to know about your life.”

“My life? Like what?”

“You certainly didn’t want to be a criminal when you were a kid. What was your original dream?”

SIlas smiles shyly and scratches the back of his neck. “A truck driver.”

“Truck driver?”

“I liked cars. But then I started hanging out with the wrong kinds of people and now I’m here. I’m not mad about it though. I have more money than I ever could have gotten being a truck driver.”

“Money isn’t everything. Not when you’re harming people.”

“I punish people who are cruel to me. If people didn’t bother me, I’d not kill them. But they don’t get that easy memo.” Silas smiles. “Enough about that. I don’t want to talk about work on this fine day.”

The food comes before you have time to ask him something else. You dig in. The food melts in your mouth and you wonder if you’ve got a taste of heaven. 

“Is it good, baby?” Silas asks and takes a sip of his crimson wine. “Do you like it?”

You nod. 

"Let's say we travel one day", Silas says. "Where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere warm probably", you say. "Or to the mountains. Either really warm or really cold."

"Interesting … I'll remember that."

The dessert is a strawberry ice cream with hot chocolate sauce.

Silas doesn't let you see the bill and when you ask him about it, he just smiles at you. Gently, he guides you back to the car where the driver is watching a movie on the monitor inside.

"Stop watching garbage while working", Silas says. "Otherwise I'll spoil the movie for you. I swear, I'll do it."

The driver apologizes quickly and turns on the engine. 

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"The grand hotel", Silas smirks. "I've booked the best suite they have.”

Silas’s grip on your hand is tighter than before when you step out in front of the grand hotel. You understand why. The hotel is filled with people, potential threats. Silas practically drags you with him to the lobby. The poor receptionist is trembling when Silas speaks to her. She never looks at you.

"Come with me", a man smiles. "I'll show you to your suite."

Silas thanks him and pulls you with him through the marvelous lobby, over to the elevator. The man chats with Silas and you notice how he’s trying to not sound frightened, but his body language exposes him. 

The room is bigger than you could ever have anticipated. You look around with big eyes. Silas captures you in a backhug, kissing your cheek. Once again, you’re filled with warmth. Terrified, you freeze. You shouldn’t fall for him. You really shouldn’t. But … it is Valentine’s day after all. If there’s one day a year to give in and be in love, it’s today. You turn around in his embrace and look at his lips, hesitating, contemplating. You’ve never taken the initiative before and you have a feeling you will regret it, but you really want to. Maybe you’ve gone insane. Maybe you’ve gotten manipulated, but oh, how much you want to kiss him. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Silas smirks. “Is that why you’re staring at my lips?”

“I think so”, you say. 

Before you can react, he’s crashed his lips against yours. You gasp as all the air knocks out of your lungs. His kisses are rough and dominant, but his hold of you is sweet and gentle. He’s sucking the air out of you in a hypnotizing way that leaves you wanting more. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“Y/N, Y/N”, Silas pants and pulls back from you. “Patience. I have more planned. You can’t break my mind yet.”

You whine slightly as he withdraws his lips from you. Now that you’ve finally let loose, why does he have to stop you? He chuckles and pulls you to the bathroom. The bath is already prepared for the two of you with bath bombs, bubbles and champagne. 

“Here is some chocolate”, Silas says and holds up a box. “What do you say? Should we take a bath?”

You nod. A few minutes later, you both sink down into the hot water. Your not sure if it's the water embracing you or Silas hugging you, but frankly, you don't care. Not now. Silas give you one of the champagne filled glasses. You clink the glasses together and gulp it down. Silas pulls you close to him and lets you lean on his chest. You can feel his heart beat through his muscles. For once, it feels human.

“Isn't this nice?” he whispers and you can hear the skft smile in his voice. “So relaxing.”

You nod and close your eyes. Maybe being with Silas isn’t too bad afterall. Despite his cold outer, he can be a quite romantic person on the inside ...

[the-fandom-abyss]

Tase and Save

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff ♡

Word Count: 1,695 words

Warnings: mentions of drugs, a smidge of violence, unwanted attention and Sam using her muscles

The lights were dimmed, music turned to high volume and cups littered the surrounding areas. There was no mistaking this as a frat party by the way the smell of sweat and alcohol, filled your nostrils. At the sudden hit, you scrunched your face in disgust, second guessing why you had come tonight. A familiar face brushes past you and it all becomes clear. One of your friends had mentioned that Tara would be of attendance. This was shortly followed up by how she had convinced her sister to join her. This was unheard of since the beginning of the school year. Samantha Carpenter out in public and at a frat party, you had to see it for yourself. You had played your interest off as curiosity, but you couldn’t deny how your heart fluttered at the name. So here you were, homebody by trade, hoping that the equivalent to Big Foot would show up.

Taking advantage of your sudden haze, a substance was slipped into your drink. Distracted, you took a long sip, eyes searching for the taller Carpenter in the crowd. It wasn’t long until you had finished your cup, wanting a refill. When you had turned around, the room began to spin, causing you to lose balance. What you couldn’t comprehend was how one drink could cause you to be drunk. Shaking it off, you headed for the various bottles spread on the counter. One of the boys noticed your wobbly stance, taking it upon himself to help.

“Hey there” he introduced, handing you the bottle that you wanted. His presence was close to yours, alerting others that you were his.

“Hi” you said while pouring your drink, not once paying him attention.

“What’s a cutie like you doing all alone?” His body bumped yours, a smile graced his lips at how you lost your balance.

“I’m not alone, I’m with my friends” the words all slurred into one, and yet for you it was crystal clear.

“I don’t see them”

“They’re over there” you pointed towards random group of people, hoping that he would take the hint. In your defence, with the blurriness that had settled in your eyes, any one of them could have been your friend.

“Let me take you to them” before you had the chance to move away, he held you by the wrist. On a normal day, you would have protested, kicked your feet and screamed. Under the circumstances, all you gave was a nod, a glazed over stare and a weightless body to move. He lead you towards the stairs, wanting nothing more than you in his bedroom. In your state, you didn’t seem to notice the change in direction. All your focus was placed on putting one foot in front of the other. It was only the first step and your foot had slipped, causing your body to fall. With his strong arms, he held you by his side, opting to lift you instead. Another few steps and your body went limp, losing all control of your limbs. He carried you bridal style, not bothered by the state you were in.

“Put her down!” Someone shouted above the music. The man turned to see Chad staring from the bottom of the stairs.

“She’s tired, she’s sleeping in my room” he called down to him, trying to hide his true motive.

“Like hell she is” Sam ran up those stairs, two at a time, just to make it to you faster. The man tried to shake her off, bumping her with his body. When an energy was given towards his groin, he yelped in pain, accidentally letting you go. Sam was quick to catch you, heading back down the stairs.

“Stupid bitch! Keep the whore” if Sam wasn’t angry before, she was downright furious now. She handed you over to Chad before marching her way back up the stairs. She kicked his freshly grilled groin and punched him hard enough to make him bleed.

“Don’t you ever speak about her like that” she practically growled which caused the boy to fumble up the stairs and out of sight. Pleased by her methods, she turned her attention back to you. Chad passed you back into her arms, and you were carried away from the scene.

“Sam” you said dreamily with a dopey smile on your face. She could see the effects of the drug taking over your system. She was beyond worried about your well-being so she decided to stay with you all night. She carried you all the way to your dorm, which was closer than her apartment. Thankfully your roommate had gone away for the weekend, so they wouldn’t be startled by your appearance. Sam gently laid you down on your bed, manoeuvring you to take off your jacket and jewellery. Once you were sorted, she sat beside you, running her fingers through your hair. Even in your blissed state, you instinctively wriggled closer to her body. Curling up next to her, with a hand clutching to her shirt. Small snores passed your lips, signalling that you were officially asleep. Samantha couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips at how utterly adorable you were.

Night had turned into morning, with the sun rays beaming through the cracks of the curtain. Sam had already woken up, had a shower and helped herself to some of your clothes. So when you’re eyes fluttered open and landed on the woman in your room, it took your breath away. Sam was in your room, wearing your clothes and if the drugs hadn’t messed with your brain, this surely would. When a headache began to form, the groan that left you alerted Sam to your awakened self.

“Here” she sat on the edge of the bed and handed you two aspirins and a glass of water. She watched carefully to make sure that they were swallowed before taking the glass from you. You fell back on to the pillow, hands covering your eyes.

“Did we?” You asked, hoping that she would understand your unfinished question. A laugh was heard in response, a hand meeting your on the bed.

“No we didn’t” she gave it a squeeze in reassurance. If she had found you earlier before the events of the night, maybe that could have happened.

“Then what happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember seeing Tara in passing and then finishing my drink. After that it’s all a blur”

“That would be because someone spiked your drink” at that you sat up, ignoring the sudden nausea it gave you. When could that had happened? You made your own drink and were holding it the entire time.

“What?”

“Some scum slipped it in when you weren’t looking”

“Ugh, I’m such an idiot” you covered your face with your hands, embarrassed that this had happened to you. All because you were too distracted by the thought of the woman next to you.

“No you’re not, it could have happened to anyone” she reassured you, rubbing calming circles on your exposed leg.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that” you felt so foolish, letting this happen to you. Even more embarrassed that Sam had caught you like that.

Sam shrugged her shoulders, eyes trained on yours. “It’s okay, I was happy to help” another squeeze to your hand to show she was telling the truth.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome” a beat of silence passed between you. Both wanting to continue the conversation but unsure of how to continue. Your bodies leaned closer to each other, noses close to touching with how close. In an attempt to put a stop to this, you just had to ask a question.

“How did you stop him?” It took a moment for Sam to register what you had said. Her mind still stick on the idea of your lips on hers.

“I tased him” her words were quiet, nervous for your reaction. Normally people don’t respond well to the idea of Sam, let alone violent Sam.

“You what?!” Your mouth hung open, shocked by her confession. She cared enough to tase a man for you, it was very sweet.

"In the balls" she followed up, with more confidence than before. She watched as a grin began to form, before laughter pushed its way through.

"Samantha!" You nudged her softly, the laughter more prominent than before. That was just the cherry on top, only she could do something so outrageous. You had only wish you were coherent enough to not only witness but remember as well.

"He deserved it" she defended, remembering how she felt in that moment. How he looked down at your weakened state and how eager he was to take you away. He deserved a lot worse for the way he spoke about you.

"Oh I bet he did" your laughter had calmed down to little giggles which Sam couldn’t help but find infectious. Her own giggles mixed with yours, sharing the sweet moment together. The giggles slowly faded and had left a smile on both your faces. The look of adoration Sam had for you was enough to reduce you to a puddle. It has built a confidence within you that you thought you never had. Without a chance for doubt, you had leant forward and connected your lips. Hers were soft as they mixed with yours, minty from brushing her teeth. Her hands moved to cradle your face, just to make sure this was real. When you had pulled back to breathe, Sam’s lips were pink and swollen from the sudden kiss. She looked dazed like she was daydreaming, only this had happened in real life.

“You can save me from as many creeps as you’d like”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm” you recaptured her lips, leading her to lay down with you as you sunk back into the pillows. Her body felt warm next to yours, her arms holding you steady by the waist. A discussion would have to be had after this, especially with the heavy topic of the night before. But for now, soaking up everything Sam had to offer you, was all you could think about.

[hobeemin]

stop, kiss

🛍️ genre(s): romance, angst, drama, fluff, college au, 90s au (based on Can’t Hardly Wait)

🛍️ pairing: joshua hong x poc (f) reader

🛍️ summary: joshua wasn’t what you called popular back in high school, in fact, he was practically invisible. what happens when he runs into his childhood crush in college after growing into his looks? awhole lot of shenanigans ensue.

🛍️ rating: pg15

🛍️ warning(s): swearing, frat parties, drinking, bullying, fights

🛍️ word count: 5.6k

🛍️ credits: shout out to @wooahaeproductions​ thank you maren for looking this over at the last minute! ���💜💜

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

🛍️ a/n: this is for the Now thats 90s SVT collab. Huge thanks to @beomcoups and @mingiblr 

“This is it.”

Jeonghan side-eyed his friend as they walked across the grassy quad. “What are you going on about?”

Joshua swept his arms in a comprehensive motion. “This. College. It’s the start of our lives.”

“But that’s what you said when we were freshmen in high school.”

Joshua’s arms dropped as red crept up his cheeks. “Okay, but this is gonna be different. This is us being adults. Conquering obstacles–”

“Joshua–”

“–reaching goals–”

“Joshua–”

“–going the distance–”

Jeonghan closed his eyes as Joshua ran straight into a bench and flipped over, landing on his back. Instantly, the quad filled with laughter. He groaned as his vision filled with stars, trying to get his bearings. It wasn’t until a face appeared that his senses came back.

Was she an angel?

He blinked once. Then twice.

The worry on her face was replaced with relief when she noticed he was alert.

“Oh, good. You’re okay.”

“I think so,” he mumbled, trying to stand.

“Maybe we should wait for the paramedics to get here,” she mused.

Jeonghan nodded in agreement. “Someone’s calling for them right now.”

“Seriously. I’m okay!” A smile spread across his face as he began to rise. It faltered quickly as his legs wobbled.

Jeonghan grabbed his arm, guiding him to the bench.

“Sit. Now.”

“Yes, please do,” she said in agreement.

The paramedics arrived quickly, getting to work on assessing his injuries.

Honestly, he was okay. His head hurt a bit, but they were fussing over nothing. He didn’t need any more embarrassment on his first day as a college freshman. Jeonghan gave her a polite smile.

“Thanks for helping. He’s a little stubborn, but I know he appreciates it.”

“It’s alright. I’m just happy to know he’s okay,” she said with a smile.

“Y/N!”

She looked up at the sound of her name. A group of people were waving to her. She put her hand up and turned to Jeonghan.

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. I hope your friend feels better!”

Joshua heard the name from the stretcher, and realization crossed his face slowly. “Jeonghan!”

His friend ran over to him. “What?!”

“Was that Y/N?! As in Y/N Y/L/N?!”

“Uh, that’s a stretch. I mean, there’s a lot of Y/Ns–”

“No…I’m sure of it. That was her!”

“Joshua–”

“Humor me. What if that was her? It’s fate! We were meant to meet once more. It’s destiny–Ow!”

The stretcher dropped, making him bump his head against the bar. Jeonghan shook his head in disbelief. 

“This is gonna be a long year.”

---

With Jeonghan in tow, Joshua walked into the student center, looking around. By then, a few months had passed, and everyone had forgotten about his blunder on the first day of class. He thought it best to keep a low profile during the semester.

Joshua was always hopeful of running into Y/N on campus. Occasionally, he’d see her walking around, but every time he tried to speak up, he got tongue-tied, or a group of people would surround her. It seemed like he’d never get a chance.

One breezy fall afternoon, Joshua sat against a large oak tree, strumming his guitar. Jeonghan joined him moments later, dropping down next to him with a plastic bag. Reaching in, he took out some snacks, crunching on some chips while Joshua played. He hummed a few bars before taking out a small notebook. Jeonghan noticed a worn folded piece of paper fall out and scooped it up. 

“What’s this?”

Joshua yelped, trying to reach for it, but Jeonghan pulled it out of reach. With a grin, he opened it up and read the contents. His eyes widened as he turned to his friend.

“I can’t believe you still have that letter.”

His face warmed as he snatched it away, stuffing it into his pocket. “It’s not that serious, Jeonghan.”

“Oh, is it not? Cause keeping a letter you wrote countless times back in high school to a girl who didn’t know you existed is pretty strange.”

Joshua rolled his eyes before returning to his guitar, strumming the strings absentmindedly. Was he being delusional at this point? Should he just give up on his crush?

“Maybe I’ll give up. It’s stupid,” he mumbled.

Jeonghan frowned slightly, noting how Joshua’s mood had darkened. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to be down.

Joshua returned his guitar to its case and stood up. Jeonghan looked at him curiously. “You got class?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m done for the day. I might go back to the dorm to study. I’ll see you later.”

He waved before walking off, leaving Jeonghan alone. Leaning against the tree, he sighed heavily. He had to get Joshua out of this funk somehow. 

But what to do?

Something fluttered in the corner of his eye. It was the letter from Joshua’s pocket!

An idea began to form in his mind, making him chuckle. 

Yep, this might work after all.

---

Y/N sat there toying with the straw from her milkshake, bored and only half listening to the conversation around the table. Honestly, did they have anything worth talking about? There had to be more to life than when the next party would be or how many kegs they could drink. Still, she humored her friends, offering a laugh now and then.

“Right, Y/N?”

She blinked, looking up from her milkshake. “Huh?”

Her friend Irene rolled her eyes before sipping her diet Pepsi. “Were you even listening?”

She shook her head as a groan surrounded the table. She shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Irene sighed heavily. “The party—the one the Sigma Lambdas have every fall for Halloween—is happening this Friday.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, distracted once more. “Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll come.”

“We have no choice. Plus, Mingyu is gonna be there,” Irene added.

Y/N’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “And I would care because…”

“Jeez, Y/N, get with the program. Your boyfriend is gonna be there .”

“Correction, ex-boyfriend, and that makes it all the more reason not to go.”

Irene let out a noise of exasperation. “I don’t get you sometimes. If anything, this is the perfect opportunity to go and prove you don’t need him.”

“Whatever. We’ll see how I feel,” Y/N grumbled.

It wasn’t like her friends would listen anyway. She dated Mingyu all through high school. Meeting him on her first day, they became the ‘it’ couple and were at the hip. While they seemed like the quintessential high school romance, Mingyu was relatively immature in many ways. It was too much their senior year, and Y/N called it quits. He took it so well, insulting her intelligence and saying she’d regret it, but that only solidified her decision.

Of course, this was after they promised to go to the same university together, and now she was stuck with him for another four years.

Again, she ignored her friends' discussions and stared out the window, sipping her milkshake. When three fraternity brothers from Sigma Lambda Theta walked into the cafe and approached their table, Y/N and her friends looked up with interest.

“Heard you ladies were coming to our party,” one said.

Irene nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Heard y’all have a lot planned.”

Seungcheol eyed Y/N curiously, nudging Soonyoung. He pointed his chin towards her. “You’re Y/N?”

Her brow lifted in interest. “I am. And you’re Seungcheol?”

“Heard a lot about you.”

“Is that a fact?” she chuckled, sipping her milkshake. “Can’t always believe what you hear.”

Seungcheol smirked with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Soonyoung grinned. “Don’t forget to wear your best costume. Masks included.”

“What are you going as?” Y/N inquired.

The shorter of the three shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Please don’t get him started. He hasn’t shut up about it all month.”

“Jihoon, lighten up. You’re just jealous.”

“Sure.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, shooting the girls a smile. “Anyway. Gonna be a great time,” he shot Y/N a look. “Save me a dance?”

Y/N shrugged with a laugh. “Maybe. I like to keep my options open.”

“Sounds good to me. See y’all later.”

As the guys walked away, a glint flashed in Irene’s eye.

“What do you think about them, Y/N?”

“Them? Them who?”

Irene frowned once more, shaking her head in disappointment. “You acting clueless? The Sigma Lambdas! Isn’t Mingyu trying to pledge? Wouldn’t showing up with the frat's president as your date be funny?”

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “I’m really not trying to date right now. I’d rather focus on my studies–”

“All I hear is blah, blah, blah.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s not the end of the world. I mean, they are cute, but–” she argued.

“Whatever Y/N. If you want to be alone, that's fine, too.”

“Life isn’t always about having a boyfriend, Irene.”

“You worry about what you do, and I’ll worry about me,” Irene retorted.

Y/N stood up from the table, nearly knocking down the drinks. “I guess friendship isn’t the biggest priority either.”

Without another word, she stormed off, leaving the rest of them alone in the cafe.

---

The next few days passed without much drama. Even though Y/N and Irene made up, there was still some tension between them, regardless of their saying everything was okay. So many things ran through her mind that her concentration was off in class. Only one day after one of her lectures, the professor called her up as the class was leaving for her to notice.

Y/N slung one strap over her shoulder, gathered her books, and approached her professor’s desk.

“Yes, Professor?”

He pulled up a file, flipping through the papers. “I normally wouldn’t say anything, but you’ve been doing so well in class, Miss Y/L/N. Is everything alright?”

Damn it. 

She nodded her head, trying to smile. “Of course. Maybe I'm just a little burnt out this semester with my credits, but I’m okay.”

He sighed, handing over a folder to her. “I’m going to give you a chance to work on this research paper again. I know you can do better than this. I’ll accept it next Friday.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Slipping the folder into her bag, she walked out of the classroom, her thoughts swirling. It wasn't until the last minute that she bumped into Joshua coming out of the building. She jumped with a start as her books fell to the ground. Joshua blinked, staring at her before scrambling to pick the books.

“Are you okay?”

She willed herself to smile, taking the books from him. “We have to stop meeting like this. How’s that bump on your head?”

Joshua sheepishly grinned as he rubbed the spot. 

“I'm never gonna live that down, but I'm alright.”

Now that she was in front of him, he was too nervous to speak. Did she even recognize him from high school?

Clearing his throat, he tapped her shoulder politely. Y/N turned to look at him curiously. 

“Yes?”

“Your name wouldn't happen to be Y/N Y/L/N, right?”

Her brow quirked. “Um, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well

“Y/N!!!!”

She looked past Joshua with a frown. 

Mingyu was walking towards her with Seungcheol. His smile faltered as he saw Joshua standing next to her. “No fucking way…Bambi goes here!”

Joshua’s face paled upon hearing that name. Of all the people who had shown up here at this very moment…Mingyu had managed to graduate and get into a university?! 

His knees buckled as Mingyu’s hand slammed into his back in greeting. Joshua had to hold the wall to keep from dropping to the floor. Y/N’s eyes glanced from him to Mingyu in confusion.

“Bambi?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a laugh, nudging Seungcheol. “Dude always looked like a deer in headlights, especially when he was our mascot and got tackled.”

Seungcheol started to chuckle as Joshua attempted to back away slowly. Mingyu grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a headlock, giving him a noogie. Joshua grunted, trying to loosen his grip.

“So what you doin’ talking to my girlfriend, Bambi?”

Y/N scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Ex-girlfriend, Mingyu. And let him go, please. Let’s be adults.”

A pout formed on his face as he let Joshua go reluctantly. “Seriously? Y/N–”

“Save it,” she snapped. Her expression softened as she took Joshua’s hand into hers. “Walk me back to my dorm?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “U-Um s-sure!”

“You’re sweet.”

She smiled, barely acknowledging Mingyu and Seungcheol, as she walked out of the building with Joshua in tow, still dazed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed, watching the pair walk off.

“That geek is gonna pay,” he mumbled, storming out of the building.

---

Joshua hardly touched his drink as Y/N placed it before him. She removed the wrapper around her straw and stuck it in her milkshake. Her brow quirked in interest.

“Sooo. You went to our high school?”

Joshua finally grabbed his cup and took a generous sip. “Uh huh.”

Her lips turned downward, trying to recall his face. “I don’t know why I can’t remember you.”

He shrugged, trying to shake his disappointment. “I-It’s not like you would have noticed. We didn’t run in the same circles.”

Something about that statement made her stomach drop. Sure, she’d been what you’d consider popular, but Y/N was pleasant with everyone she came across.

“What were you into back then?”

Joshua sat back as the tension slowly drifted from his shoulders. “Band, mostly marching and pep. I was in the film club and tried out for the soccer team, but…yeah.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “You seemed to have a lot of interests. I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other.”

“Well, Y/N, we have been in the same classes since freshmen year.”

Her cheeks felt hot, and Joshua fumbled as he tried to change the subject. “I-I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing. It’s just how life happens. Our school was big, so it’s okay.”

The relief passed her face. The last thing she wanted was for someone to recall her being self-absorbed. 

A smile formed on her lips, which he returned wholeheartedly. “Well, it’s time for new beginnings.”

“Agreed.”

After a brief silence, she looked at him and asked, “Are you good with music theory?”

His brows lifted as he nodded. “Oh yeah! I took those in high school! Do you have any questions about it?”

“Do I?” she said with a laugh. Y/N pulled out her research paper and handed it to him. “I got an extension to write a better one.”

He flipped through the pages with a hum. “I see. Do you want help? I’d be happy to give some insight.”

Y/N beamed at him. “I’d owe you a huge one!”

Joshua smiled. “That’s not necessary. How about we meet Friday night at the library to discuss the details.”

Realization dawned on her as her smile faltered. Joshua’s brows knitted.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-No, it’s just there’s this party on Friday–”

“Oh. Well, you should go.”

She sighed, falling back against the booth cushion. “That’s the problem. I really don’t want to.”

“So don’t go,” he reasoned.

“It’s not that simple–”

“It kind of is. Don’t force yourself into things just because your friends want to,” he interrupted. His eyes widened again, and red crept onto his face.

“I-I’m sorry. That wasn’t my place to say.”

Y/N let out a genuine laugh for the first time in weeks. “Honestly, that was the most honest response I’ve gotten. People always try to hide the truth.”

“Some people suck,” he said matter-of-factly.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why don’t you come to the party?”

“M-Me?”

“Why not? It definitely would make my night better,” she exclaimed.

He looked at her in astonishment. Y/N sipped her milkshake, trying to cover up her bashfulness. “I mean…the more the merrier, ya know.”

“I’ll see what's going on that day,” he decided. He was not ecstatic about the invitation but didn't want to get his hopes up. Being near her was almost enough for him.

“Okay,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

They returned to idle chatter the rest of the time, realizing they had much more in common than each had known. He eventually said his goodbyes, promising to give her the paper back after he made any edits. Walking back to his dorm, he thought about their time together. Y/N was amazing in so many ways. Joshua would have fallen even deeper in love with her if he hadn’t already fallen madly in love.

He stopped in his tracks.

Love?

Shaking his head, he unlocked the door with a scoff. What did he know about love?

The letter.

Damn it.

That letter.

Groaning to himself, he walked inside to Jeonghan, who was reading at his desk. Jeonghan looked up from his book at his friend's expression. 

“You alright?”

Still in a daze, Joshua plopped on his bed, blinking. “Y-Yeah.”

Jeonghan hummed, going back to his book until Joshua spoke up.

“I spent time with her.”

“Her?”

“Y/N.”

Jeonghan placed his book down and faced Joshua with interest. “What? What happened?”

Joshua recalled the events the best he could, grimacing at the part when Mingyu appeared and his conflicting feelings about the party.

Jeonghan let it all sink in before talking. 

“Well, now you gotta go to the frat party.”

“Yeah, but Mingyu’s gonna be there.”

“So? Y/N personally invited you. It seems she wants you there, and that’s enough. Who cares what everyone will say? We’ll have fun, you’ll see.”

Joshua sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. He was taking a chance. This could be the start of something great or crash and burn in utter disaster.

Time to take a gamble.

---

When Y/N and her friends arrived, the party was in full swing. She watched as people ran around the house throwing balloons filled with water. Irene screeched, jumping in place as one splashed by her feet, nearly getting her costume wet.

“Watch it!”

Irene let out a sound of exasperation. “Do I look okay?”

Y/N fought to roll her eyes. 

“You look fine.”

Irene beamed as she twirled in the black, red, and white plaid two-piece. She adjusted the hat on her head. “We’re gonna be the popular people here. Clueless was a hit!”

Y/N adjusted the skirt on hers. She would have instead gone as Dionne, but Irene insisted she be the Cher. Arguing would have been fruitless if she wanted any attention on her, so Y/N just went with the flow. Heads indeed turned as they walked by. Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, clearly red-faced from the alcohol. 

“You made it!”

Y/N held back the eye roll from Irene’s giggles.

Seungcheol gestured to them with the beer can in his hand. “You’ll be the girls from that movie, right?”

“Like totally!”

He grinned, setting his gaze on Y/N. “Would you like something to drink Y/N?”

Irene pushed past; a Cheshire grin spread wide. “We’d love something to drink.”

He chuckled, watching Y/N’s reaction. Y/N held back the eye roll, threatening to appear.

 “C’mon, I’ll show you where the drinks are.”

They followed Seungcheol into the kitchen. The entire counter was covered in various drinks, from malt beverages to cheap vodka, anything to get someone entirely buzzed. Mingyu stood near a silver basin, stirring the bright red liquid. He looked up, making eye contact with Y/N as he waved. Grabbing a few cups, he poured the liquid in, adding some pineapples, strawberries, and oranges. 

Y/N stared at the cup in scrutiny as Irene happily sipped on hers. 

“This is so good! What is it?”

Mingyu tapped his glass against Seungcheol’s. “We call it carat juice.”

 Y/N’s brow raised, giving him a deadpan stare. “Wow, so clever.”

“I thought so,” Mingyu answered with a smug look.

She sighed heavily, looking around for anything to get her away. 

“Just enjoy yourself tonight, Y/N. It’s the least you can do. You’re being so uptight,” Irene taunted.

What the hell was wrong with her? Irene had been doing too much lately, and Y/N was letting her ‘friend’s’ words get to her.

“Fine.”

She chugged the drink back, trying not to cough at the alcohol burning down her throat regardless of the sweetness in the cup. She wiped her mouth off and ran towards the dance floor. Maybe sweating for a few hours would help make her numb to the whole thing.

Joshua and Jeonghan walked inside, looking around at the scenery. Very few people were wearing original costumes. Most were dressed in bedsheets as ghosts or togas.

“You sure we got the right costume?”

Jeonghan shot Joshua a look. “No one else is gonna have it.”

Suddenly, someone shouted from across the room, " I'm a dude. He’s a dude. She’s a dude. So we’re all dudes!”

A snort passed Joshua’s lips, and he waved, giving a thumbs up. Jeonghan gave him a smug look. “See?”

“Fine. This was the way to go.”

He adjusted the paper hat on his head before smoothing the striped blue and white shirt. Okay. So maybe Jeonghan's idea of being a Good Burger employee wasn’t a bad idea after all. As he got more comfortable in his skin, he opened up more to talk with the people at the party.

“Oh, you play the guitar?”

Joshua nodded as he sipped his drink. The guy slapped his back, causing his knees to buckle. “We always have a jam session in the quad in the afternoon. You should join us.”

“BAMBI!”

Joshua let out an audible groan. 

Shit.

Mingyu pushed through; cheeks reddened from the alcohol. Joshua tried not to recoil from the smell of his breath. Wrapping his arm around Joshua, he waved his cup, slooshing the liquid all over the floor. 

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he slurred.

Joshua removed his arm, sidestepping away from him. “Uh. Yeah. I was invited.”

“Who’d invite you?”

“I did.”

Both men looked up as Y/N appeared, the growing crowd parting for her to pass. Joshua felt his heart still as she smiled at him. 

“I’m happy you made it, Joshua,” she said.

“T-Thanks,” he gushed out.

Y/N gave him a nod of approval. “I like your costume.”

“I like yours too,” he said with a grin.

Feeling neglected, Mingyu glanced between the two, not liking how the conversation was going. He managed to get Seungcheol’s attention. Both men nodded, and devious grins appeared. 

Y/N smiled at Joshua, cocking her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Wanna get a drink? There’s this jungle juice–”

Red liquid splashed over Joshua, covering him from head to toe. Laughter erupted around the room. Y/N looked shocked as Mingyu and Seongcheol bent over, shaking with laughter. The empty red cups were enough evidence for her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Mingyu snorted back a laugh, trying to look serious. “What? It was just a joke.”

Y/N shot Joshua with a sympathetic look as Jeonghan appeared, handing him a crumple of paper towels. Joshua tried to wipe off the liquid in vain, feeling the stickiness cover his skin. Trying to keep his cool, he walked up, heading up the stairs without a word. Y/N snarled as she punched Mingyu in the arm with a hiss. “You’re such an asshole, Mingyu!”

He shrugged, giving Seungcheol a fist bump. “Eh, what else is new.”

Shaking her head in disgust, she stormed off as everyone watched in awe. 

Joshua found himself in a bathroom upstairs, trying to avoid getting the stain out of his shirt. Luckily, he ran into Woozi, who you called Jihoon before. That frat member was kind enough to tell him about the bathroom away from the crowd while he got himself together.

“Remember not to close the door all the way. The knob sticks.”

He threw the towel into the sink. It was useless—both the stain and possibly talking to Y/N.

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be,” he mumbled to his reflection. He couldn’t go back out there. It didn't look like that. He sighed heavily and sat on the toilet seat, a dark cloud hovering over him.

Jeonghan found Y/N quickly. She sat outside, away from the smokers, attempting to get some fresh air. He stepped closer until she noticed him standing near her.

“Hi. You’re Y/N, right?”

She looked up, guarded at first, as her brow quirked. 

“Do I know you?”

Jeonghan stepped back, giving her some space. “I'm sorry. I’m Joshua's friend. You probably don't remember me, but we went to the same high school.”

“Oh,” she gave him a small smile. “Sorry, it’s just been kind of crazy tonight. What’s your name again?”

“Jeonghan,” he answered. “Listen, have you seen him? I’ve been looking for him for a while.”

“No, I was just about to go look myself.”

“He can’t be too far off. This house isn’t that big. Wanna help me find him?”

She nodded as he gave her room to walk. Just as Jeonghan turned, something fell from his pocket. Y/N paused, seeing the envelope with her name on it. She picked it up, twirling it between her hands. 

“Jeonghan?”

“Hmm?”

She held up the envelope before his eyes. “Why do you have something with my name on it?”

Oh shit.

Jeonghan shrugged, letting out a scoff. “I didn’t drop that.”

Y/N crossed her hands over her chest, tapping her platform boots on the deck. “Oh really? So this just magically appeared before you?”

“Yep.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

Her eyes narrowed, looking it over. “Well then, it’s no big deal if I open it, right?”

“Yep–wait! No!”

Jeonghan lunged forward, tripping as he tried to grab the letter. Y/N pulled it out of reach with a smug look.

“So obviously, this means a lot to you, but it has my name on it.”

“D-Don’t read it! It’s not mine to give!”

She stared at him, waving it in front of his face. “Then who did?”

Jeonghan dropped his head in defeat. “It was Joshua,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“It was Joshua…he wrote it.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly, the envelope felt heavier than usual. Should she open it? Something was always there in the few times she ran into Joshua. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt so much at ease in the little time she spent around him. It wasn’t like with her friends. She didn’t need to put on an act.

“Should I open it?”

Jeonghan wiped off the dirt from his costume as he stood up. “Honestly, it’s up to you, but whatever you decide involves you and Josh.”

Biting her lip, she glanced from Jeonghan to the envelope before sliding her finger under the flap. The notebook paper was stained with age, and the creases were deep from constant folding. The black ink was partially smeared on the paper as the words looped along the lines.

Her eyes scanned the words, silently reading them to herself. Jeonghan watched the emotions change on her face with interest. What could she be thinking? Y/N cleared her throat as she folded the paper and placed it in her pocket.

“Excuse me.”

She ran off back inside the house. Jeonghan secretly patted himself on the back.

Joshua, you owe me.

Y/N ran up the stairs, looking for anyone familiar. Towards the end of the hall, a door was propped open. She knocked on it gently, waiting for an answer. When none came, she stepped in to see Joshua leaning against the window, eyes closed. 

“Joshua?”

His eyes fluttered open as his head turned toward his name. His jaw dropped when he saw her standing in front of him.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“Uh–”

Y/N started to close the door, looking at him with concern. “Are you sure? 

“Wait!”

Y/N jumped in surprise just as the door shut behind her. Joshua tried catching the knob to no avail. Groaning, he leaned against the counter.

Y/N violently shook the doorknob, but the stubborn door did not budge. She gave a few sharp knocks, pausing to listen for any voices.

Nothing.

Joshua shook his head in disappointment. “Told ya.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she snapped, leaning on the door. 

Joshua scoffed as he stared at her in disbelief. “What’s your deal? It’s not my fault. I tried to warn you about it.” She sat against the sink with a defeated sigh, looking anywhere but at Joshua. But he didn’t warn her.

“So we’re stuck?”

“Yep. I doubt anyone will come this way. The party is loud enough they won’t hear the knocks or us.”

“Lovely,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

He glanced at her curiously. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

Y/N gave him a stern look. “Duh, looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Well–”

“Felt bad about your boyfriend spilling his drink on me?” 

She could hear the hurt in his voice. “He’s not my boyfriend, Joshua. You know that.”

“Do I? Wasn’t this some ploy to mock me?” His tone was accusatory. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped in shock. “What? No! Why on earth would you think that?”

He shrugged, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t know. People suck.”

“You think I’m like them?”

Joshua met her gaze, seeing the sadness in her eyes. He was projecting, and he knew it. In frustration, he ran his hands through his hair. “No. No, I never thought that. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I understand. People do suck. Maybe I was like them before, but I don’t wanna be like them anymore.”

He nodded in understanding. “That’s mature of you.”

“Hardly.”

The quiet fell between them, with only the muffled sound of the music in the background. Y/N pulled the letter out of her pocket and opened it up.

“It may sound silly, but nothing else seemed to matter when you walked into my life. I spent so much time wondering how or when I’d speak to you. If I ever shared a space with you, I’d thank the stars for this opportunity.”

Joshua felt the blood drain from his face. She had his letter! How? Why?

“Y/N–”

A small smile appeared on her face as she put the letter away. “You wrote this when we were in high school?”

Instantly, the blood rushed to his face as he tried to hide his expression. “It…embarassing enough as is. I didn’t mean–”

Her lips pressed to his, stopping him midsentence. Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise, and his limbs stiffened. It took a few moments for his brain to catch up when he finally kissed her back, wrapped his hands around her waist, and pulled her close. His heart hammered loudly, and he swore he could hear hers, too. It seemed like hours passed before they broke apart. Y/N blinked a few times, trying to catch her breath.

“I never do that.” does he mean he never would have done that?

“D-Do you regret it?”

She shook her head with a laugh. “No. No, I don’t. You’re a great kisser.”

“As are you,” he answered with a smile.

“Joshua–”

The door to the bathroom crashed open, breaking them apart. Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Mingyu stood in the doorway in shock. 

“Thank goodness Woozi said where you were.”

Mingyu stepped forward with a snarl, pointing at them.

“So what's this?”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. “What are you talking about, Mingyu?”

“You two together?”

“Why do you care? We’re not, so anything I do has nothing to do with you.”

His jaw clenched as he stepped towards her. Joshua pushed himself between them as Mingyu stared hard at him.

“Bambi, move.”

“Don’t call me that, Mingyu. You’re being an ass. Stop while you’re still ahead.”

Mingyu shoved Joshua, who staggered back. Y/N grabbed Mingyu’s arm. “What is wrong with you?! Have you lost your mind?”

Mingyu yanked his arm away as Y/N was pushed back. Jeonghan and Seungcheol tried to grab Mingyu when Joshua swung, his fist connecting with his cheek with a dull thud. Mingyu fell against Seungcheol with a groan. Jeonghan looked at each man in surprise. 

“Shit. Nice job, Joshua.”

He hissed, shaking his fist, and pushed past the group, walking away. Y/N placed her hand on Jeonghan’s arm. “I’ll go.”

It didn’t take long for her to catch up with him.

“Joshua,” she called.

He stopped walking and turned towards her. Looking down at the ground, he sighed. “Sorry. I just needed to get out of there. Are you okay?”

“I’m not glass. I’m pretty tough,” she answered with a smile.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t doubt it.”

Y/N paused before speaking. “I like you, Joshua, before the letter. I was just too scared to say something,” she explained.

“And now?”

Y/N felt the warmth crept into her cheeks. “I think my kiss was proof enough.”

He took her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I think we deserve to get ourselves some breakfast. What do you think?”

Y/N stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck. A grin appeared on her face. “Only if you’re treating.”

He chuckled, placing another soft kiss on her lips. “Deal.”

[supercriminalbean]

Shopping Time

Dave Rossi x GN!Reader

Warning: NSFW. Sex mentioned. Sex Toys. Bondaged. Sir kink. Kinda Sugar Daddy vibes. Kinky stuff. No sex nor intermit stuff just flirting and implied things. Dom and sub relationship vibes

Summary: Your partner takes you to a sex shop first time.

Words: 1.7K

A/N: I completely forgot I wrote this, I found it in my drafts I wrote this like two months ago so damn. Um enjoy

“Woah” Your eyes shoot open at how big the store is as you walk in, surprising you with the amount of people that are inside. A comforting hand is placed on your lower back, helping lead you inside. It was your first ever time inside a sex shop, normally your partner just goes alone and brings back a few things that catches his eyes. 

“If this is too much, you can go wait in the car” Dave leans forward, kissing you on the cheek. 

“No I want to look around” Leaning backwards into his touch, only pulling away once your hand is intertwined with his.

“Okay” He squeezes your hand softly as he leads you further into the store. “I only need a few things today, and if you're a good for me, I might get you a reward” He smiles down at you, knowing you're always his good little doll for him.

“I’ll be good” Smiling back up at him, letting him lead the way.

“I know you will be” He smirks a little as he leads you down the aisle where the ropes and bondage gear all belong. 

“Don't we have some of this stuff already?” Looking up at him confused as he kneels down, so he can get a closer look. 

“We do, but some of our rope now has some wear and tear now, so some new gear will be good, I don’t want to tie you up with old rope and you end up getting rope burn now do I, amore?” Smirking up at you from his knees, he motions for you to join him down there. 

“That makes sense” Smiling softly as you kneel down, joining him. He takes your hand in his and brings it to some of the rope he seems to be studying, he brings the rope in your hand, testing the feeling of it against your skin.

“How does that one feel?” He watches you closely as you slide your hand across it, before quickly pulling your hand off it.

“I um.. It feels scratchy” Rubbing your hand against your other arm to try and get the feeling off it. You have some texture issues, it's something Dave always takes into consideration when he buys you anything. It's why he really wanted to bring you in today, make sure he gets the right one for you.

“Okay, what about the next one?” He gives you an encouraging smile as you move your hand to the next brand beside it, feeling it more carefully.

“It's better, but it feels weird” You keep your hand on as you speak, trying to figure out what you dislike about it.

“Okay that's good so far, what about the other one?” Dave nods, taking down a mental note. You pull your hand off that one and move to touch the other one, but you stop.

“Not that one” A sharp shake of your hand alerts Dave immediately. 

“That's okay, we can skip that one, there's only one left for the ropes, do you think you can touch that one?” Dave softens his tone as he speaks, knowing how your anxiety can also play up along with your sensory processing disorder. 

“Yeah I can” Smiling weakly as you reach out for it, running your fingers over it slowly, before fully gripping it with your palm, a smile spreading across your face.

“Looks like we found the right one huh, sweetheart?” Dave smiles softly, rubbing your back gently as you both stand up. 

“Yeah I like that one” Nodding at him, smiling at just how sweet and understanding your partner is. 

“I'm thinking we get at least 3, I want Black and purple, any suggestion for the third?” He asks as he reaches down and grabs them, placing them in his basket. 

“Can we get red please?” Smiling as you see him reach for it before you even say it properly. He knows black and red is one of your favourite colour combinations.

“Sure can” He intertwined both of your hands once moving, after he put the ropes in the basket. 

“What else do we need?”

“Well I ordered something last week online, which I need to go speak to someone about, so do you think you’ll be okay if I leave you here for a few minutes?” He sighs a little, knowing how much you hate being left alone, but knowing you also hate talking to strangers.

“No that's fine sir, I’m happy to browse by myself for a little while” Smiling happily up at him, actually looking forward to freely looking around.

“Good, thank you tesoro” Dave smiles, kissing you softly before pulling away. “Can you just stay amongst these 3 aisle for me, so I can find you easily”

“Yes sir” Biting your lip lightly as you smile at him, trying to hold back the smile that comes along every time he kisses you in public.

“Buona tesoro, I won’t be long” Squeezing your hand softly before he walks away, leaving you alone. 

~~~

Slowly you walk around the aisles, ending up in the aisle that has paddles and whips. Your eyes land on a beautiful black and red pattern paddle, your hand traces along it, feeling how soft and hard the material feels. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against your ass. You’ve used these with Dave before, normally when he spanks you he prefers to use his hands, but a few times in the past these have come in handy. Gulping thickly as you think back to those times, remember the pain and pleasure that he can easily apply to your body, and just how badly you crave it. 

“And what have you found Amore?” Dave approaches quietly, coming to stand directly behind you. You jump back a little in fright banging straight into his chest. 

“Oh shoot, you scared me Dave” Quickly turning around to face him, smiling up at him excitedly.

“Sorry darling” Placing his hands on your hips, bringing you closer into him. 

“Did you get what you needed?” Leaning into his touch, enjoying the way he touches you.

“I did, and what have you found while I’ve left you alone?” smirking playfully at you, noticing that shy look flashing on your face.

“N n nothing” Avoiding his eyes as you lie badly to him. 

“Oh come on amore mio, don’t get shy on me” Grinning down at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Also don’t lie, you know my rules, now were we looking at that paddle there huh?” His condescending tone makes you bow your head, giving him a small nod.

“Sorry for lying sir.. I just, yes I was looking at it” Admitting shyly, as he tilts your head back up to him.

“It is pretty, but we already have a paddle that we don’t use too often anyway?” Dave raises his eyebrow as he speaks, wanting to see your response.

“I know” Whining softly, “But we don’t have one that's this pretty, also if we get it, then we have more excuse to use it more, please” Biting your lip, as you pout, look up at him.

He lets out a soft playful groan. “I mean you have been so good for me, I did say you could get a reward if you behaved” A smirk slides onto his face as he sees your face light up.

“We can get it?” Squeaking softly in excitement, “Thank you thank you sir” 

“No problem sweetheart, I can’t wait to spank your ass red with it” A low chuckle escapes his throat as he reaches for it. Your face drops, just realising the amount of danger your ass is about to be in.

“Oh no”

~~~

Dave leads you to the aisle with vibrators, his arm securely around your waist.

“Dave, don’t we already have enough vibrators?” Smiling a little as he stops you in front of a certain selection.

“No such thing” He dismisses that thought from you quickly, passing you the basket to hold for a moment. He reaches for two packages of vibrators, before turning to you with a mystery grin.

“So do you want white or green?” 

“Um green, but that was quick?” Tilting your head at his quick decision making.

“Oh I read about these online” He smirks, placing one back on the shelf and the other in the basket. “This will be perfect for us” 

“Um what's so special about this one?” Holding the basket back out for him, watching as he moves the basket to his far hand and takes your in his.

“Well this is controlled by an app on your smartphone, so when you're at home, all alone and desperate for me, I can still make you cum even when I'm across the country” His words make you squeeze your thighs together, a small whimper slips through your lips. 

“That sounds dangerous” Giggling softly as you lean into him.

“Oh It Is” He chuckles deeply, licking his lips. “Especially because you know I’m not going to stop at just one darling” A small growl leaves his lips as he leans down kissing your cheek as he leads you to the counter, where a few other things he had already ordered online were waiting for him. The cashier rings it all up for him, making small talk with Dave. Your eyes almost jump out of your head as you see the final price.

“Dave, that's too much money!” You complain, staring at him in shock.

“Relax bellissimo, how many times do I have to tell you money doesn’t matter?” He laughs softly, wrapping his arm around you as he pays for the gear. 

“I feel bad” You mutter softly as you two walk back to the car, Dave refusing to let you carry any of the bags.

“You shouldn't have to, I love spending my money on you, and especially on things like this” He smirks down at you, which reduces you to a silent puddle of mush, he laughs softly. Reaching the car he opens the door for you.

“Always such a gentleman” Smiling widely as you climb inside.

“Only while in public” He mutters to himself, putting the bags in the back, unable to think about anything else except taking you home.

[the-guilty-writer]

A Little Tachy

Request from anon: Hiya, could you possibly do something with Morgan x platonic!bau!reader who has pots, or if your not comfortable just faints? X

Derek Morgan x platonic!BAU!reader

GN!reader

Summary: Reader’s tachycardia is flaring and Morgan helps them through the day

A/N: What a great way to kick off Disability Pride Month!

I don’t have POTS, but I’m educated on the condition. One of the things I believe is important to acknowledge is that not everyone with POTS faints, so while the reader comes close to fainting and it’s implied that they have fainted in the past, the reader does not faint during the fic. This fic contains the symptoms and form of POTS I am most familiar with and hear about most often, but it effects everyone who has it individually.

CW: reader almost faints, reader has tachycardia but specific condition is never stated, liquid IV (yes it deserves a warning)

---

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Your smartwatch went off, disturbing the already awkward silence of the elevator. Quickly, you pressed the button to silence it and looked down at the screen that read a number much too high for your liking. The line on the screen climbed with the elevator. Your vision began to fog at the edges and tightness spread across your chest.

Just a few more floors… you thought to yourself, but even that thought was a little hazy. Your grip weakened ever so slightly on the accessible bar. Please, not first thing in the morning… The doors opened onto the sixth floor.

“-scuse me,” you managed to say to the person blocking your way to the door. They scooted to give you room to escape and you managed to dizzily shuffle out of the elevator and into the familiar hallway. With weak limbs and a foggy head, you sank against the closest wall, breathing rapidly.

Keeping your head lifted felt all too much like a chore, so you tilted it back against the wall and allowed your eyes to close. Instead of trying to control your breathing, you allowed yourself to heave with every exhale; it wasn’t worth the extra energy to try to control the muscles of your diaphragm. The alert on your watch went off again, but it wasn’t worth it to turn it off. The sound was annoying as hell, but you didn’t have the strength to turn it off. It should have been alarming to have someone take your wrist while you were in such a vulnerable position, but the touch was so familiar, you knew who it was without looking.

“Thanks,” you managed to get the entire word out without slurring - a good sign.

Derek Morgan sat down on the floor next to you, sighing. “You need me to take you home?” Your best friend’s voice was filled with sympathy.

Sometimes you hated that he worried about you so much, and other times you were grateful you had someone that cared enough to accompany you on the ground.

“No,” you said, your strength coming back to you. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

Your heart came down to a normal (but still less-than-ideal) rate. The pain in your chest faded and the dizziness began to clear. Morgan got up first to help pull you to your feet.

“Thanks,” you said, checking your watch to make sure your heart didn't spike.

“You sure you're okay?” He looked at you with concern.

With your heart staying steady, you cracked a smirk. “A little tachy, but okay.”

The joke was bad, but you still managed to pull a smile out of Morgan. “Take it easy today,” he said.

“I will.”

You walked towards the bullpen, your heart rate rising just a bit as it always did when you were on the move. Derek stood in the hall and watched you carefully for any signs of stumbling. It wasn’t until you were safely through the glass doors, surrounded by people that could catch you if you fainted, that he felt it was okay to go down the hall to his office.

---

You had a few dizzy moments and foggy incidents since your initial extreme tachycardic episode in the morning, but nothing too far out of the ordinary: some lightheadedness when you went to turn in some files and needing some deep breaths whenever you reached down into your bag. It wasn’t technically normal, but it was your normal, and you made it work.

Eleven o’clock rolled around, and just like everyone else in the office, you started to crave caffeine to keep you going. The old coffee maker struggled to keep up with the high demand of it's job. A small line had formed for the chance to grab a mug. You were beginning to wonder if you could convince the section chief to budget for an entire coffee bar.

You saw Morgan at the front of the line, taking his sweet time adjusting his coffee to the exact way he liked it. When he turned to leave, he stopped by you at the back of the line.

“Now, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to make sure I don’t fall asleep,” you replied.

He raised his eyebrows, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a packet of liquid IV.

“Morgan…” you whined. “Please?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

His stubborn attitude was nice, but also annoying. You rolled your eyes a bit, but accepted the packet. “Thanks,” you said with a heavy sigh.

“I’d rather have you passing out because you need a nap than caffeine induced tachycardia,” he said with enough humor to make you smile, but enough seriousness for you to believe him.

You went back to your desk, added the liquid IV to your water and took a sip. It didn't matter what the flavor was, the sharpness of the electrolyte mixture always made you wince at the first taste. “Better than straight up salt packets,” you commented.

Morgan chuckled. “Don't give me any prank ideas.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” you said, then looked over at the rest of the BAU. “For me at least.”

The two of you shared a smirk before he left the bullpen and you went back to work. The great prank planning would have to wait till later.

---

By the end of the day, you were beyond exhausted. Between your heart rate acting up, a lack of coffee, and actually taking a break for lunch, you didn't get as much work done as you planned. Even Hotch had managed to leave the office before you.

You finished a file and put it on the finished stack, then looked at your to-do stack and sighed. With a weak hand you went to grab one.

“Uh-uh.”

You startled, more alert than you had been for hours, but relaxed when you heard Morgan's familiar laugh.

“Are you trying to send me into a medical episode?” You asked him as he leaned on the edge of your desk.

“Come on,” he didn't answer the question. “I'll drive you home.”

You shook your head. “I've gotta finish-”

“You've gotta sleep.”

With exhausted eyes, you looked back at your friend. His gaze was gentle and caring as always.

After a quiet, “Okay,” he helped you pack up your bag and stand up from your seat. From the time you exited the bullpen, until he helped you into the car, he steadied you through every dizzy episode, kept a light hand on your arm to help you walk straight, and gave you gentle reminders to breathe.

It didn't matter if you were having a good day or a bad day, your best friend would always be there to make sure you got through it.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 32**

We are slowly moving towards rock bottom with poor Frankie as he tries to get a handle on his addiction and his own demons.

I'm about to update the warnings for the next chapter. If there's something you're very sure you don't want to read about, please heed them. And if you don't want spoilers, please send me a DM and I'll tell you if you need to worry or not. I am moving towards something very dark and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's absolutely fine!

Series Master List

Chapter 33- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.9k

Another week passes, and you think maybe Frankie does better although his nightmares are still ever present, he gets moody sometimes and he’s always too tired, but slowly you think, maybe, you see an improvement. At least he stays away from Joel, you know that. He comes with you to the radio office in the morning or goes straight to someone who needs help fixing something, sometimes he goes scavenging for spare parts, or trades for them at the market, but never outside the QZ. When he’s done he comes by the radio, or you meet him and the guys at the bar. Often Tommy joins you, sometimes even Joel. Pope tells you he’s asked Joel if Frankie has tried trading for drugs again and Joel says he hasn’t seen Frankie at all.  

It’s been four weeks since Frankie came clean to you all, and the warm spring air seems light to you, even in the QZ. The ever entrepreneurial manager of the bar, Liz, has somehow managed to turn the grimy backyard into a ‘beer garden’ of sorts and now you’re all out there, sprawled in an assortment of patio furniture around a white plastic picnic table. 

Will keeps glancing at the door, Diana hasn’t turned up yet and even though she’s not late, you know Will is on edge until she gets here, just like you are before Frankie turns up. 

There’s been an increase in Firefly activity and FEDRA is on high alert, meaning random stops and checks in the street were now commonplace. The group you’d first only heard about through the scattering of graffiti throughout the QZ, had started making noise. Suddenly they’d recruited more people, were spreading their demands for a more just rule of the QZ, and almost every alley wall had their ‘slogan’ hastily spray painted across it; 'If you're lost in the dark, look for the light’. 

More than once you’d been approached by them, random women mostly, striking up conversations about FEDRA’s unjust methods and harsh control of the QZ. You knew the guys had also been approached, their reputation as men who knew how to handle themselves and any gun placed in their hands, made them prime targets for Firefly recruiters. So far all attempts had been shut down, getting involved in rebellions was something they’d done back in Delta Force and they were done with that. 

Will’s eyes flick to the door leading out to the backyard again as it swings open, but this time it’s Frankie. He’d gone inside for a round of drinks and he stumbles across the threshold, nearly spilling the tray of glasses he’s holding. 

“Jeez, Fish,” Benny laughs, “How many drinks did you have before I got here?” 

“Only one,” Frankie grumbles, carefully watching his steps as he crosses the yard and sets down the tray on the table. 

“The old man can’t take his alcohol anymore,” Tommy jokes, the two youngest men of the group chuckling together as Frankie rolls his eyes and hands you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you, his hand drifting to your thigh almost by its own accord. 

“You feeling ok?” you ask him in a low voice as Ben and Tommy continue celebrating being the youngest, and he nods, taking a sip of his drink before he gives you a quick smile. 

“Yeah, I’m good, just tired, didn’t sleep great last night again,” he answers and you put your hand on top of his, braiding your fingers between his. 

“It’ll get better, Frankie,” you soothe him, “you’re doing great.” 

Frankie looks at the whiskey swirling around his glass and gives you a weak smile before he takes another sip and looks over at Pope who’s asked Will something. You keep glancing at Frankie when he’s not looking. You know something isn’t right, but you can’t push it, not yet. He’s too tired, too sluggish even though he seems to be doing better. Pope had said it might just be the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been only two weeks. But you feel blind, you can’t do anything but trust him, if he’s still using, you won’t know until it’s too late. So you scan his face, watch his moves, hoping and praying he’s being honest with you all and that he’s just fighting withdrawal symptoms. 

You lean back, taking a sip of your own drink, when from the street a loud explosion suddenly rocks through the air, making you all rush to your feet and turn towards the entrance to the bar. Shouts can be heard from inside and the sound of breaking glass. 

“Come on,” Pope says, “we need to get out of here!” He runs to the door, Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens and you follow him and next to you, you hear Will curse loudly. 

“Fuck! Diana is on her way here, I’ve got to find her!” He wrenches the door open, everyone inside is on their feet, facing the front door and someone is carefully looking outside. Just as Will crosses the room, heading for it, the door swings open and Diana runs inside, covered in dust, coughing. He’s on her in a split second, carefully cupping her cheeks. 

“Honey, please tell me you’re ok! What happened?” 

Diana coughs again and nods, “I’m ok, I think, the explosion was pretty far down the street, I just got pushed by the blast.”

Will is running his fingers over her head, scanning her body for any injuries, before he pulls her into a hug.

“Thank fucking god,” you hear him mumble. 

“We should get out of here,” Pope says, the bar is emptying now. The other patrons are filtering out through the door, looking down the street before hurrying off. When you’re all out on the street you can hear the rumble of FEDRA trucks approaching and the blaring of their alarms. 

“You guys should come over to our place, it's the closest, gonna be a bitch to get home now,” Frankie says. 

“I’m gonna head over to my girlfriend,” Tommy says, “she’s just a couple of streets over, gonna make sure she’s ok.” He waves a quick goodbye before he takes off, jogging down a side street. 

“C’mon,” Pope starts walking towards your building. You walk fast, getting out of the way of more and more FEDRA soldiers moving in, heavily armed and looking ready to take down anyone they don’t like. You feel relieved when you make it inside, everyone piling into your apartment, it’s bigger than Pope’s. Just as you’re about to step inside, one of your neighbors comes up the stairs. 

“Did you hear the explosion?” he asks and you nod. 

“Yeah, we were at the bar, do you know what happened?” 

“Those damn Fireflies, they blew up a truck! Blew a big hole in the street!” He shakes his head as he starts up the next flight of stairs, “FEDRA’s going to be worse than ever now, mark my words!”

You sink down on the couch in the crowded living room, Frankie sits on the arm rest next to you and you put your arm around his waist, leaning into his side. 

“Fucking Fireflies,” Pope grumbles, “I know they’re trying to make things better but what the fuck do they think blowing up trucks will do?”

“FEDRA will crack down even harder now,” Will says, handing Diana a damp washcloth and helping her clean the dust off her face and clothes. “Have they even been successful in other QZ’s?”

Through the radio, and overhearing people’s messages, you knew the Fireflies have spread over most of the US. From almost every QZ came reports of their activities, usually hiding dissent at how FEDRA ran the QZ’s, it was clear that FEDRA wasn’t doing a good job anywhere. 

“I haven’t heard anything of them having any major success,” you reply, “at most they manage to disrupt things, and from what little people say, FEDRA cracks down hard on everyone, not just the Fireflies.” 

“How does FEDRA respond?” Pope asks and you shake your head, grimacing. 

“Not well…extended curfews, harder punishments, even death penalties, harder controls of medicine and food, checkpoints across the QZ, a couple of places even have public executions, I heard they do hangings in Kansas City.” 

“Great,” Benny sighs, “It’ll be fucking Arlington all over again if they keep this up.” 

“You can’t blame them though,” Eve says, she’s sitting on Benny’s lap, “FEDRA are fucking fascists, the Fireflies want to over throw them and have democratic rule.” 

“Yeah, sure, FEDRA are a bunch of fascists, but when has bombing city streets ever helped?” Benny asks and Eve just shrugs. 

…

The next day FEDRA trucks drive through the QZ, blaring an announcement from loudspeakers in the truck beds. 

“The criminal gang known as The Fireflies is now classified as a terrorist organization. Any citizen found collaborating or participating will be tried and convicted.”

They drive through the QZ all day and before long you feel a headache throbbing behind your eyes as you sit at the radio. There’s less people stopping by today, most are too scared to go out unless they have to. 

“Joy came by with a message for her brother,” Sean says as you share lunch in the office. “She said a FEDRA officer told her they are going to execute anyone found to be a Firefly member.” 

“That’s terrible,” you say, “FEDRA’s trials are a joke already, now they’re going to execute people based on those?” You shake your head and scrape the last of the thin stew up with your arepa.

“They’ve put up checkpoints everywhere,” Sean sighs, “It feels like this is only the beginning.” 

“Not only checkpoints, I was stopped three times in the street by soldiers on my way over here this morning, everyone is a potential terrorist in their eyes now.” . 

Your lunch is suddenly disturbed by a door slamming open down the hall and shouts from the few people waiting for your lunch break to be over. Heavy boots come stomping down the hallway and you throw a worried glance at Sean. The door of the office is only half closed but now it’s thrown wide open, slamming against the shelf behind it with a loud crash. Two FEDRA soldiers step inside, their rifles pointed at the floor thankfully, followed by an office and two more soldiers. 

“On your feet!” the office barks, “Up against the wall!” You’d already flown to your feet when the door slammed open, now the soldiers advance on you both with their guns raised and you back up against the only window in the room. 

“Where are your records of incoming and outgoing messages?” the office asks, his voice rough as he pushes the papers on the radio desk around. 

“We-we don’t keep any records.” Sean stutters, “Sir,” he adds. 

“Why not? What are you hiding?” the officer, his name tag says Ambrose, barks, “All incoming and outgoing messages must be logged.”

“Only civilians use this radio, there is no rule saying we have to keep logs of their messages.” 

“New rule, from now on you have to keep a log of all messages,” the officer sneers, “Check those shelves for contraband, you two, check those boxes.” He directs the soldiers to the shelves and boxes that line the wall and they start rifling through the content. You know they only contain spare parts for the radio, nuts and bolts, a few wires, but the soldiers go through it like they’re expecting to find drugs and weapons, every piece is pulled out and left scattered on the floor. 

“Please, be careful with that, they’re spare parts for the radio,” Sean protests as one of the soldiers knocks over a box of equipment. 

“Shut up old man, or I’ll toss ‘em out the window,” Officer Ambrose snarls, “you’re lucky we’re letting you keep ‘em to start with.”

“They’re parts for this particular amateur radio model,” you interject, “they won’t work with the more powerful army issue radio FEDRA uses.” Frankie had taught you that when he helped Sean find some of the parts in an old AV shop a few blocks away. 

Ambrose looks at you and you see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, “You’re Morales’s wife,” he says, “you and him hang around with the Millers and that other beaner, Garcia.” He looks you up and down, “No wonder you work there then, that’s how they get their information.” You feel your skin run cold, if he’s saying what you think he’s saying, then FEDRA knows about the smuggling. 

“She works here because she’s an excellent radio operator and she knows this machine better than even I do!” Sean protests, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.” 

“Start keeping those records, old man,” he snarls, still looking at you, “Or we’ll come back and smash the radio and your office to pieces. And just a warning; I catch as much of a whiff of Firefly activity here, you’re both going to the scaffolds.” He barks orders at the soldiers and they step outside, marching behind Ambrose down the hallway. Sean and you are left surveying the mess they’ve left behind, the content of the shelves and boxes scattered across the floor. With a deep sigh you bend down and start putting things back, checking for damage as you go. 

It takes you the rest of the afternoon to tidy the office while Sean handles the people still waiting to receive and send messages. He writes down the messages people send, and the ones received, putting all the scraps of paper in a box. If FEDRA wants to read what people talk about, they’ll have to sort through it themselves. Although Sean does raise the suspicion that maybe FEDRA will try to listen in on what the radio receives or broadcasts, it means you’ll both have to be much more careful in the future. 

You head back home, feeling rattled by the day’s events, together with the checkpoints and being stopped in the street, FEDRA’s presence in the QZ is starting to feel oppressive. You remember how quickly it escalated in Arlington, praying it won’t come to that. 

Frankie hadn’t been past the radio office today, he’d been helping a friend of Sean’s clean out and repair an old open fireplace in exchange for new boots he desperately needed, his old ones falling apart. When you open the door to the apartment you see the new boots neatly placed inside the door and heavy snoring comes from the living room. You look around the corner and smile, Frankie’s on his back on the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other across his chest, mouth agape while he snores, loudly. He’s not usually a heavy snorer but he hasn’t been sleeping well, often waking up tired and groggy. You kneel down next to him and put your hand on his arm, he twitches but keeps snoring, his nose wiggling over his mustache, making you smile. He looks younger and softer than he has in years when he’s sleeping like this, relaxed without nightmares. He must’ve decided to take a nap on the couch after coming home so you leave him sleeping. You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen to start making dinner. 

The arepas are waiting to be fried when there’s a knock on the front door. You hear Frankie stir but he doesn’t wake up and you peek out before you open. Pope’s standing outside, a bag of groceries in his hand. 

“Hey,” he says as you let him in and take the bag from him. “I brought some of the groceries I got with my ration cards, your cooking is better than mine,” he grins as he toes off his unlaced boots. 

“Thanks,” you peer into the bag, spotting some stuff that was definitely not obtainable with ration cards, Pope, Will and Benny had made sure you had more than enough even though Frankie wasn’t smuggling and always seemed to make excuses to fill your pantry. “I’ll cook for you every day if you bring things like this,” you say and pull out a side of pork, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“Frankie’s living the good life I see,” Pope chuckles, spotting him, still stretched out on the couch, snoring lightly now. 

“He’s not sleeping great at night, he must’ve been really tired,” you look over at him and smile, he mumbles and turns on to his side, back to the room. “I should probably wake him up now though, or he won’t sleep tonight.” 

“You get him up then, I’ll put this stuff away,” Pope takes the bag from you and goes to the kitchen while you go over to the couch and kneel down, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and leaning your chin on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Frankie boy, time to wake up,” you whisper, running your hand up and down his side and he mumbles incoherently, still firmly asleep. “Frankie, baby, wake up, or Santi’s gonna eat all your dinner,” you tease, shaking him lightly. He must be really tired, usually he wakes up the second you touch him, now he only mutters and rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. 

From the kitchen Santi starts rattling plates around; “C’mon, pendejo, despiértate! I’m fucking starving!” he yells and Frankie finally stirs enough to peel his eyes open. 

“Cállate…” he mumbles while he blinks the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hey baby, wake up,” you smile, pressing your lips to his scruffy jaw, “you’ve been sleeping for hours I think.” All you get in response is a grumble and you take his hand, pulling him up to sitting. He rubs his hands over his face and blinks a few times again, his eyes are red and he looks pretty out of it still. 

“Are you feeling ok, Frankie? You look pretty terrible.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, giving you a weak smile before he yawns, “I slept like shit last night and I was fucking tired all day but I had to help with that fireplace, got ash fucking everywhere.” 

“Your eyes are really red, did you rinse them?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, but I only had water, I hope it was clean enough.” 

“C’mon, dinner’s served,” Pope calls from the kitchen and you give Frankie a hand up. 

“The other’s aren’t here yet,” you say, “Will and Benny are coming over with Diana and Eve.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pope replies, “Will asked me to tell you that FEDRA is putting a new curfew in place, 6 am to 6 pm. It won’t come into effect until tomorrow but they didn’t wanna risk being outside with FEDRA soldiers looking to jump the gun any chance they get.” 

“But that means we won’t be able to have dinner together at all!” You sink down in your chair with a grumble, “Fuck FEDRA.” 

You start serving the stew, Frankie’s got his head in his hands on the table, giving you a tired smile when you place the bowl in front of him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Speaking of FEDRA assholes, an officer came by the radio today with a bunch of soldiers and turned the place upside down, luckily they didn’t break the radio,” you say, serving yourself. You see Frankie’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What did they want?” he asks. 

“Anything, I think,” you reply. “First they asked about logs for in- and outgoing messages, which we don’t keep of course. So they told us we have to from now on and I think they want to see if there’s any mention of the Fireflies from other QZ’s.” 

“And they think you’ll write that down in a log book?” Santi says, shaking his head, “they’re more stupid than I thought…” 

“I always just assumed they were listening in on the radio. That can’t be hard, it’s just regular amateur radio.” 

“You give FEDRA way too much credit, cariño,” Frankie says while dipping his arepa in the stew, “they don’t know shit unless they have someone who actually was a radio operator before the outbreak. And I doubt it.”

“There was something else, more worrying,” you say, “the officer, Ambrose, recognized me as your wife. He made it sound like he knew about the smuggling. When he saw that I worked the radio he said ‘so that’s how they get their information.’ “

“We haven’t used Sean’s radio for setting up trades for years,” Santi frowns, “he couldn’t know about the smuggling through that, he’s hasn’t been in the QZ long enough.” 

“So that means he knows about it some other way, but he doesn’t know how you get the information,” Frankie replies, “but how does he know?” 

“Yeah, that’s worrying,” Santi says, tapping his fingers on the table as he furrows his brows, “I’ll have to talk to Will and Benny, see if we’re missing something. Or someone.”  

The three of you fall silent while you finish dinner, it’s not until you’ve all sunk down onto the couch that Santi speaks again. 

“I’m thinking we should probably be more careful with our runs, go less often, even if FEDRA aren’t getting nosy,” he says, opening the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. “Runs are getting more and more risky, not just getting out without FEDRA noticing, but also getting through the area around the QZ.” 

“More infected?” Frankie asks and Santi nods. 

“Yeah, people who are trying to get to the QZ are getting infected before they get here. And if they can’t, or don’t want to, kill themselves, they just add to the ones already there.” 

“Please Santi, please be careful,” you plead with him, “it was always dangerous, if it’s even more now then maybe it’s best to stop.” 

“Don’t worry, we have some ideas,” he says, smiling at you. “We’ve got a contact with FEDRA who’s willing to make sure certain supply trucks don’t get checked too thoroughly. I need to make sure he’s reliable and then we can start bringing in goods that way.” 

“What’s Joel and Tommy doing?” Frankie asks. 

“Still looking for someone to partner up with, don’t think they’ve found anyone yet though.” Santi replies, “And as far as I know, they’re still going outside pretty regularly.” 

“I guess they have to if they want to meet up with the guy from Concord,” you say, “he’s the one supplying the oxy right?”

“Unless they found someone else, yeah, it’ll be the same guy.” 

Santi stays until he sees Frankie yawn and your eyes starting to droop closed, the day catching up with you both.. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, get some sleep, both of you,” he winks, “no pre-bed activities, you both look like shit.” 

“Thanks Santi, always the charmer,” you mock scowl at him as Frankie yawns again, wide enough to make his jaw pop. 

“Night, hermano, see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. After Santi’s left he locks up and follows you into the bathroom. 

“I need a shower,” he mutters, his eyes half closed, “should’ve showered when I got home but I was too tired.” 

“I need a shower too,” you say as Frankie begins to peel off his clothes and he gives you a tired smile.

“Please shower with me, hermosa,” he says, holding out his hand as he kicks off his jeans, “No funny business, I promise.” 

“What if I want some funny business?” you smirk at him as you unbutton your own jeans but poor Frankie just shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired, cariño, without the pills the nightmares are kicking my ass,” he says, turning on the water and letting it run warm, “I’m not being a very good husband.” 

“Don’t be silly, Frankie, you’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” you smile, dropping your shirt in the hamper and stepping in after Frankie, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warm water runs over you both and you sigh as it soaks over your tired muscles. Frankie just hums in response, hanging his head and letting the water run over him, until his brain catches up. 

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he says with a snort, turning in your arms and putting his own around you. “You have nothing to compare with,” he smiles down at you as you blink up at him through the water. 

“Am I the best wife you’ve ever had?” you ask with a coy voice that makes Frankie chuckle. 

“Hmm…let me think about it,” he says, stroking his beard while you playfully poke his ribs and he smiles again, “Best wife I’ve ever had, best human I’ve ever known, you’re perfect in every possible way,” he says, bending down and running the tip of his nose along yours, gently nudging your cheek before his lips find yours. You moan into his mouth as he makes you open up for him, his tongue slipping along yours, tasting you and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless. 

“I thought you said no funny business,” you mumble against his lips when you finally break apart. 

“I’m just kissing my wife,” he mumbles back, the heavy weight of his cock making itself known between you. 

“Does your dick know that?” you ask, sliding your hand between the two of you and closing your fingers around the thick length, even with the warm water from the shower, it feels hot in your hand. Frankie groans and you feel his hips jolt, thrusting into your hand as you start stroking him. 

“Let me take care of you, Frankie,” you mumbled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his neck, your tongue slipping over his wet skin. You can feel the rumble of his throat under it as his cock twitches in your hand. “I want to taste you, feel that heavy weight of your cock in my mouth as you come.” You pull back and look up at him, his eyes already closed, his head tilted back, “Say it, Frankie, tell me what you want me to do.” 

“Cariño,” he moans, “please, I want your mouth, suck my cock.” His hips jolt again, he’s holding back from fucking into your tight fist but you can feel him grow increasingly hard under your light grip. You give him a final kiss on his throat before you make him back up against the shower wall, he drops his head back with a dull thud. The harsh bathroom light is on and you take your time as you drop to your knees, admiring his thick and long cock, the shower has made it wet and slick, the head swollen and weeping. Looking up at him, blinking through the shower water, you see that he’s still got his eyes closed, but his breaths are rapid and strained. Still watching him you stick out your tongue and run the tip lightly over the slit. The effect is instant, a strained groan rumbles from him and it makes you smile, you love the sounds you can pull from him when he lets himself focus only on what you do to him, without him trying to make you feel good at the same time. 

The water makes your hand slide easily up and down his shaft while you take the head into your mouth, tasting the salty drops leaking from him as you make sure your tongue licks over every part of, tracing the ridge and veins, circling the head with warm lips. He bucks into you, his heavy groans louder as your hand closes more tightly around what’s not in your mouth, he’s already close, you can feel him swell and twitch in your mouth. Pulling back a little you glance up at him and see him looking down at you, open mouth and glassy eyes. Like always when he concentrates his tongue rests on his bottom lip, the pink tip peeking out. He’s breathing heavily and his hips start to thrust lightly almost of their own accord. Still looking at him you let him slip out of your mouth and lick a wide stripe from the bottom of his cock, all the way up along the underside, your hand gliding  down and gently cupping his balls as your mouth envelops him again, adding pressure, sucking him in between your tight lips. 

“Fuck, bebita, please…” he moans, almost a pained expression on his face, “don’t stop, I need your mouth,” he’s kept his hands by his sides, fist clenched, but now he cups your cheeks, caressing your skin as you take more of him, deeper into your mouth, his blunt head nudging against the back of your throat. His moaning is downright filthy, a panted whine as he squeezes his eyes shut. You increase the pressure, tightening your mouth’s firm grip around his slick cock, letting it slide in and out of your mouth as Frankie’s breathing grows erratic. 

“Don’t stop,” he groans, “so close, fuck, your mouth, hermosa…”

You breathe in and take him as deep as you can, your nose nudging the wet curls at the base of his cock, you can feel him spasming as you swallow around him, heavy on your tongue. Your mouth tightens around him, sucking firmly along the whole shaft and with a sudden, loud groan he comes, his hips bucking his cock into your throat, making you gag as you breathe through your nose. Hot liquid fills your mouth, dripping out on the sides as you suck him through his climax. He’s moaning above you, incoherent strings of Spanish, filth pouring out until his cock begins to soften in your mouth. You let him slip out, gently wrapping your hand around it and cleaning him off. 

“I might pass out,” he mutters, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, trying to compose himself, “Fuck me, I needed that, cariño.” He opens his eyes as you stand up, placing a soft kiss on his little belly before he can kiss your lips. 

“Best wife I’ve ever had,” he mumbles and you giggle against his mouth.

“I know,” you smirk, “thought I’d remind you.” 

“Thank you for the reminder,” he smiles back. 

…

The next day things in the QZ get worse. As you walk to the radio with Frankie you can hear the new announcement from FEDRA; Going outside the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Entering the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Bringing in illegal contraband is now punishable by death. Collaborating with the Fireflies is now punishable by death. A special military court will be set up to deal with all violations of these rules

There are soldiers everywhere, check points every few blocks and everyone is on edge. Frankie holds on tightly to your hand, both of you keeping your heads down as you hurry through the streets. Life in the QZ was never easy, but now it feels like a police state, much worse than Arlington when it all blew up. Frankie looks worried when he leaves you but he’s got work in a different sector. 

“If I can even get there, so many fucking check points,” he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as another FEDRA truck rumbles past. 

“Be careful, come back if it gets too crazy,” you say, reaching up and giving him a kiss. 

“I’ll see you soon, cariño,” he gives you another quick kiss before leaving. 

He makes his way towards the eastern section, down towards the docks, passing through two check points on the way. It takes time but he’s only a little bit late when he knocks on the usual door. After a minute a window above him opens up and Tess looks down at him, her long auburn hair tied back. Lowering her gun she raises her hand in a wave.

“I’ll be right down.” 

“What happened to Georgie?” Frankie asks as Tess lets him in through the locked front door. 

“He got caught coming back,” she say with a scowl, “fucking idiot took a wrong turn in the tunnel and popped up right in front of a patrol.” 

“They’ve made that punishable by death now,” Frankie says as he follows her into the empty hotel she and Georgie use as a base, “they were announcing it all over the streets when I came over.” 

“Yeah, I heard. He was caught a couple of days ago and is still in lock up as far as I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they hang him.” Tess sighs as she unlocks a door to her makeshift office, a small room tucked away at the end of the building behind signs reading ‘Entry prohibited - Bio-hazard’. 

“I hope he makes it, he’s not exactly a good friend but I can trust him and he scares the shit out of people.” She holds the door open for Frankie and he steps into the familiar little space.

“I need a favor from you,” she says as she closes the door behind them, “You know Joel Miller.” It’s a statement not a question and Frankie nods, his hand closed around the stack of ration cards he has in his pocket. 

“Since Georgie’s most likely gone, I’m going to need a new partner. Georgie had the connections for bringing in most of what I trade. Some connections I can take over, but most he handled on his own. Can you set up a meeting with him? I know he and his brother have been looking to partner with someone,” Tess opens a small safe, making sure to not show Frankie the combination, and pulls out two small baggies. “You still want oxy and ambien?” 

Frankie nods, “Joel really doesn’t trust anyone, you sure you wanna work with him?” He gives Tess his ration cards and she hands him the baggies before she counts the cards. 

“From what I hear, he might not trust people, but he won’t sell me out to FEDRA,” she replies, sticking the cards in her back pocket. 

“No, he wouldn’t do that, and as long as you know his loyalty is only to himself and Tommy, and you can handle that, he’s good to work with, knows his shit.” 

“How come you don’t work with him anymore?” Tess asks, ushering him out of the door again. 

“My wife doesn’t want me smuggling anymore, I’m all she’s got,” he says, a twinge of guilt eating at him as they walk back through the hotel, “she’s all I’ve got,” he adds. 

If Tess notices his uncomfort, she doesn’t mention it, “Must be nice having someone like that, something like that,” she says, “How long have you been with her?” 

“Since before the outbreak,” Frankie replies, “we’d been dating for a year when it happened.”

“You’re lucky, both of you,” Tess opens the front door again, leaning against the frame after Frankie’s passed through it. “Both of you still alive, together, must be nice,” she says again and there’s something she’s not saying, Frankie recognizes the undertone of grief in her voice, and he nods. 

“Yeah, we’ve been lucky, but we’ve lost people too,” he’s got his hands in his pocket, his fingers closing around the pills in the bags. “If I can introduce you to Joel, what’s in it for me?” he asks and Tess raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised it took him so long to ask. 

“Discounts,” she smirks, motioning with her hand to his pocket. 

Frankie nods and starts leaving, “I’ll talk to Joel, see if he wants to meet with you.” 

“Thanks Frankie,” Tess gives him a wave as he walks away. 

…

It doesn’t take Frankie long to get hold of Joel and tell him about Tess but the situation in the QZ deteriorates and plans are put on hold. The Fireflies attack the checkpoint into the sector where you live the day after he meets with Tess and for a few days it’s impossible to leave. You can’t get to the radio or to Will and Benny’s places, there are soldiers everywhere and all there is to do is to stay inside and lay low. You’re both starting to get worried about the situation in the QZ. 

“I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we should make an emergency exit plan,” Frankie says one day. “A plan to quickly get out of here if things go bad.”

You nod, looking down at the street through the window. There’s another patrol going down the street, heavily armed. There’s no curfew during the days, you were free to go outside. But as you watch the patrol stop two women walking down the street, searching their clothes and bags, it’s clear FEDRA isn’t letting anyone walk the street in peace right now. 

Frankie comes up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he puts his arms around your waist. 

“I’ll talk to the guys, see what we can do. We hid a working car just outside the wall, that’ll get us away from Boston at least.” 

“All seven of us?” you ask, looking back at him. He sighs and shakes his head. 

“No, all seven of us won’t fit, but we’ll figure something out.” 

“Maybe we should just try to find some abandoned farm somewhere remote, live away from everyone else,” you say, leaning back so that you can feel his solid chest behind your back, “just risk it out there rather than in here with FEDRA, it just keeps getting worse and more and more oppressive.” 

“Maybe the Fireflies will be successful,” Frankie mumbles, watching the patrol disappear around a corner, “turn things around.” 

“You really think so?” you ask, he can hear the doubt in your voice. 

“No, not really,” he sighs, “but I like your farm idea, fuck everyone else, just you and me.” 

“It’s always just you and me, Frankie, even here. The others are like family but not like you, not the way you’re my family.” 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tightens his grip on you, you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He doesn’t say anything so you just stand there while he breathes in your scent, memorizing it, as if he wouldn’t recognize it anywhere already. 

…

The morning the checkpoint reopens he leaves before you’re out of bed, gently dropping a kiss on your cheek while he rouses you, sitting on the bed. 

“I need to see Miguel about some spare parts, the clinic needs to fix some medical equipment,” he mumbles, his lips close to your skin while you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles and untangles himself, “I’ve got to go, cariño, I’ll see you this afternoon, I’ll come pick you up at the radio.” 

He makes his way through the checkpoint and over to Joel’s place. Tommy’s already there and Frankie leads them to the meeting spot he’d agreed on with Tess before the check point was bombed, hoping she’ll come back at the same time. Appointments were often postponed or interrupted in the QZ so there was a habit of just turning up at the same place, same time a couple days in a row and hoping for the best if you didn’t hear from the other person.

Tess is there, waiting, when the two Miller brothers and Frankie scramble up to the second floor of a partially bombed building. Joel grumbles about having to ‘drag and climb a fuckin’ dumpster’  but stands up straight and gives Tess a once over when she pushes herself off the dilapidated office desk she was leaning against. 

“This is Tess Servopoulos,” Frankie says, “Joel and Tommy Miller,” he points at each man. 

“Nice to meet you, Tess,” Tommy says, holding out his hand to her and she takes it with a smile. 

“Same, your reputation precedes you,” she replies, holding out her hand to Joel too, who accepts it and gives her hand a firm shake. 

“Only a good reputation, I hope,” Tommy chuckles, easing the tension in the meeting, although Joel still stands rigid, putting his hands into his jeans pockets after shaking her hand. 

“Frankie says you’re reliable and know your shit,” Tess says, eyeing Joel's silent form like she’s trying to gauge him. She knows he’s the one she has to convince and he’s doing his best to look as standoffish as possible. 

“We’ve been smuggling pretty much since the outbreak,” Tommy replies, “been in Boston for about five years now.”  

Tess nods, “I’ve been working with Georgie for about six years, here and there, but he got caught by FEDRA last week.” 

“Yeah, Frankie told us, bad luck,” Tommy nods but Joel scoffs. 

“Bad luck…he got sloppy, if that’s the kind of operation you run, we’re not interested, darlin’,” he says and Tess narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth but closes it again, biting back whatever retort was on her mind. 

She turns to Tommy instead, “I know you used to work with a few other guys, why are you looking for a new partner?” 

“Our cousins have a thing about not smuggling drugs,” Joel replies, cutting Tommy off, “that a problem for you?” 

“Smuggling ‘em? Not at all,” Tess says, glancing at Frankie and he does his best to not look at Joel. When Joel asked how Frankie knew Tess he said he’d traded with her for spare parts for the radio. It was true, he had traded with her for parts, but only once. 

Joel looks at Frankie, connecting the dots, as Tommy gives Tess a rough outline of how they usually operate, what they can get their hands on. 

“You ok with that, Frankie?” Joel asks him, “Tess trading drugs? You got a handle on it?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Frankie looks up at Joel and wills himself to keep his eyes steady on the older man, “it’s fine.” 

Joel gives him a slow nod, “Ok, as long as you’re fine with it.” 

But Tess frowns and looks at Joel, “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him, “Why would Frankie have any problems with me trading drugs? He buys them from me.” 

Tommy raises his eyebrows at this piece of information and looks at Frankie who tries to square his shoulders and look like he’s in control. 

“They’re worried I’ll get addicted,” he says, “I got pretty bad PTSD after I left the army and when shit gets too dark here, it comes back,” he shrugs, feigning a casual attitude he doesn’t feel, “but I just need the shit to sleep, the nightmares never really went away and the pills help with that, that’s all.” 

He knows he’s not telling the whole truth and Joel certainly knows that, but Frankie meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing the man to understand that he’s got it under control.  

Tess gives him a hard stare as Frankie tugs on his ball cap and crosses his arms. “Ok, as long as you’ve got a handle on it, I don’t have any issues, I’m not your moral compass, we all do what we need to do to get by. And from what I hear, you guys sell drugs too?,” she looks over at Joel who nods. 

“Yeah, but I stopped selling to Frankie a while back, and we stopped working together, what we did triggered his PTSD.”

“I’ve got it under control now,” Frankie says, he can feel the familiar panic creeping through his nerves. If Joel tells Tess to cut him off he has nowhere else to go. “Since I stopped with the smuggling I’m fine, it’s just the nightmares that give me insomnia, I just need the drugs to help me sleep on nights when it gets bad. But it’s less now, hardly ever.” He’s lying through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and his poker face on, but he’s not sure he manages.

“I don’t give a fuck, Frankie,” Joel says, “I’m not selling to you, mainly out of respect for your wife and Will and Benny. But like she said, I ain’t your moral compass.” He turns to Tess again, “Either way, that doesn’t affect our potential partnership. Since Frankie trusts you, maybe this can work, but I need to talk to my brother in private first. We’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

Tess nods and shakes both Joel and Tommy’s hands before the two men leave. Frankie and Tess follow after them, jumping down onto the dumpster. 

“Your wife’s not gonna come after me for supplying drugs to you, is she?” Tess asks as they reach the ground. 

“No,” he shakes his head, starting to walk away. 

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Tess has crossed her arms over her chest and is giving him another hard stare. 

“She does, she knows I take them to sleep,” Frankie tugs on his cap again, he knows it’s a nervous gesture and Tess just shakes her head. 

“You’re a shit liar, Frankie,” she says as she gives him another hard look, “Just keep it under control, ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s under control:” He raises his hand and gives her a wave, “I’ll see you around, I’ve got to get going.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Frankie.” 

…

Despite Joel’s mistrusting nature, he agrees to start working with Tess, on a trial basis. Frankie finds out a few days later when he asks Tess for an actual spare part for the clinic. 

“Joel’s a piece of work, but I prefer that to someone who throws his trust at anyone, that’ll get you killed,” she says, taking the ration cards the clinic had given him in exchange for a pristine looking piece of equipment. Frankie doesn’t know what it does exactly but he knows the one in the machine is broken and he’ll fix it somehow. 

“Joel knows his shit,” Frankie says, tucking the equipment into his backpack, walking back through the hotel with Tess. “Thanks for the part, Diana will be happy, the machine is important to them.”

“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” She gives him a wave as he leaves. 

When he meets up with the rest of the guys later at the bar he tells them about Joel’s new partner. 

“I’m surprised Joel’s prepared to work with someone else,” Benny leans back on the couch and kicks out his long legs, “Tommy says he’s turned down both Miguel and that guy Robert.” 

“It’s a smart move,” Will replies, “FEDRA is all over the place, he’s gonna need an extra pair of eyes for any bigger trades. We’re gonna need to be real careful too, it’s no longer just a few nights in FEDRA lock up. They’re actually going through with fucking executions.”

“As if dealing with raiders and infected wasn’t bad enough, now FEDRA wants to kill us too?” Benny huffs, “Half the stuff we bring in goes to soldiers, for fucks sake…” 

Pope nods and takes a sip of the bar’s homemade whiskey, grimacing at the taste, “They were setting up for a hanging when I came over, three guys caught in condemned buildings. If FEDRA’s  already suspecting us like your girl said, Frankie, then we should probably lay low for a few weeks. We’ve got the supplies we need for now.” 

“What about the trade we have planned, we’ve got stuff coming in from Worcester, that deal Will and I set up? We’re gonna need to receive it and get it stashed as soon as it comes in.” Benny looks over at the others. 

For years their best contact had been a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, and through him Benny and Will had made a connection with a FEDRA officer in the Worcester QZ, the man’s brother in law. It had taken months but a convoy of FEDRA trucks were due to come over from Worcester, together with the officer and a number of much needed supplies hidden among the official FEDRA shipments. Thanks to Boston being a much bigger QZ the guys had been able to offer him a large stack of ration cards in exchange for a number of in demand items. 

Pope nods at Benny, “Yeah, we have to handle that one, we won't be able to postpone it.” He glances over at Frankie, “I hate to ask, hermano…” he says, “but we could really use your help, just as a look out, for that trade now. You think you’re ok to do it? I hate to say it, but you still look like shit.” 

Frankie shrugs, “I still don’t sleep great, the nightmares are a bitch, but yeah of course, if you need me, I can do it.” 

“Are you sure, Frankie?” Will asks, “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t feel ok, we’re not risking your recovery for this. The three of us will just do it as usual.” 

“If you need me, man, I can do it. And it’s just as a lookout right? That’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no FEDRA patrols are around?” 

“Yeah, we’ve set up a lookout point near the location and we got some radios. All you’d need to do is sit there and radio me if anything happens.” Pope says, glancing over at Will who nods. 

“Talk to your wife first though, we don’t want to cause any family drama here, make sure she’s onboard with it and thinks you're ok to do it.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her tonight, I’ll let you guys know tomorrow,” Frankie says, putting down his glass and getting ready to leave. “I’m picking her up from the radio office in a little bit. What day is this happening?”

“Thursday,” Pope says, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.” 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll talk to her, but I feel good, I can do that, I wanna help you guys anyway I can,”

“Appreciate it, man,” Benny says, Frankie drops his hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he’s leaving and Benny gives it a quick squeeze, looking up at Frankie. “It’s good to know you’re doing better, Fish.”  

Frankie gives him a crooked smile and a wave to the other two and heads out the door of the bar. 

…

Frankie’s waiting outside the radio when you step outside, Sean’s taken over the radio for the evening and you’re stretching out your back after a long shift hunched over the dials and notebooks. You see him before he sees you, leaning against a barrier on the other side of the street, watching a group of children playing on a makeshift playground in a small park. They’ve all got the rough looking hand me downs the orphan children of the local FEDRA school wears and there’s two elderly ladies in FEDRA uniforms keeping an eye on them. 

Frankie looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and his ordinarily tan skin is ashen and gray. His curls are still brown but his scruffy beard is mostly silver now, as you watch his hand comes up and absentmindedly rubs across his jaw, scratching at the short hairs. You’d spent some time last night giving his beard and hair a trim, giggling as he wriggled his nose when the hairs tickled him. Sometimes he was back to his normal self, relaxed and soft around you, sleeping better without nightmares, even cracking jokes and messing with Benny when you met up with the others. But you could see that he was struggling still, the good nights were far apart and most mornings he moved like a sleepwalker, taking time to come back to life. In the evenings he stumbled to bed and was fast asleep as soon as he’d curled himself around you, sometimes the nightmares would plague him but he couldn’t wake up, you’d shake him and he’d be trapped in his nightmare. When you finally managed to rouse him he’d be disoriented and panicky until he fell asleep again, almost instantly. 

Now you walk across the street as he watches the kids take turns on the makeshift tire swing. You know which one of the children he’s looking at; a young girl, about five, with the same dark curls as Lucía. She’s hanging on to the swing, shrieking with laughter as another girl spins the tire around, her hair whirling around her head as she throws it back and giggles. 

“Hey Frankie,” you say as you come up to him, he turns around as you sneak your arms around his waist, pulling him out of his silent reverie. 

“Hey cariño,” he says, giving you a kiss before turning back to the park. The girl had gotten off the swing and was running towards the slide. “She reminds me of Lucía,” he mumbles, glancing over at you, “makes me wonder what she’d look like now.” You give his waist an extra squeeze as you watch the girl shoot down the slide and run around to climb back up to the top. 

“She’d be fifteen now, too old for playgrounds,” he gives a small smile, “although, I don’t think she’d ever get too old for swings, she loved them.” 

The little girl has climbed to the top of the slide for a third time and is standing up, waving at someone. 

“Come here! Ellie, come on the slide with me!” she calls, waving her arm and a younger girl hurries across from the swings and climbs the stairs, her short legs struggling with the big steps. The older girl instructs the younger to sit down in front, and together they slide down, their high pitched giggles carrying in the clear spring air. It makes your heart clench, the sound and the image so normal, reminding you of the times you’d been at the playground with Frankie and Lucía. 

“C’mon, we should get moving,” Frankie says, pulling his eyes away from the dark haired girl as he takes your hand. His mood is subdued on the way back to the apartment. You tell him about your day and he hooks his arm around your shoulder, listening as you walk through the crowds. But he remains silent, lost in his own thoughts when you stop talking. When you get back home he toes off his shoes and goes to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as you fill a pot of water.  

“Joel and Tommy are gonna partner up with a woman called Tess,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Tess has been helping me get spare parts for the clinic and she asked if I’d introduce her to them.” 

You look over at him, you can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s not done. And he confirms it as he drops his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Pope and the guys asked if I could help them out on a trade, as a lookout, but they wanted me to talk to you first, make sure you’re ok with it.” 

“Tell me about it,” you say, turning to lean on the counter as he comes over and stands next to you. 

“They’ve got a connection with this guy in Worcester, he’s bringing in supplies on a FEDRA truck, as part of a bigger convoy. They need me to be the lookout when they meet the men inside the QZ. I won’t go outside and I won’t be near the actual trade, just be the lookout.” 

“Do you feel ok about it?” you ask and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, I wanna help them with this,” he says, turning a bit so that he can look at you. “FEDRA is patrolling more and they need me to warn them if there’s a patrol approaching.” 

“Your nightmares are still really bad though, and sometimes I can’t even wake you up from them, Frankie. If something happens, is it gonna trigger you even more?” 

“If something happens and I’m not there to keep watch, that’s gonna be even worse,” Frankie shakes his head, “They need my help with this. Once they’re done with this they’re gonna lie low, FEDRA’s hanging people over the smallest charge now,  but this trade is too big and they can’t postpone it.” 

“And you’ll only be lookout, away from the actual trade?” you question and Frankie nods again. 

“They have a lookout point nearby, I’ll have a radio and just contact Santi if something happens, that’s it.” 

You lean against the counter while Frankie looks at you, waiting for your answer, for your approval. It makes you realize that he hasn’t done that before, let you make the decision. He’s told you about the plans, listened to your opinion and adjusted the plans and made changes so that you would be more comfortable about letting him go. This time, when what he’s been asked to do really doesn’t seem all that dangerous by comparison, he’s leaving the whole decision up to you. 

“Ok, if you think you’re ready for it, I trust you Frankie, you should help them.” 

“I do, I feel strong enough to do this, thank you cariño,” he steps in front of you and grabs your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter so that he's standing between your legs. It makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers. 

“When is it?”

“Thursday…was your skin always this soft here?” he’s running his nose down your neck, pulling back the scruff of your hoodie and burying it just above your clavicle. 

“You’re distracting me, Frankie, I had more questions,” you laugh, his tongue comes out and licks a warm strip across the ridge of the bone. 

“I know, that’s the point,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Much as I love this horny version of you, you should try and get as much sleep as possible until Thursday, I know how tired you are.” 

“Take me to bed then,” he chuckles, still buried against the crook of your neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and kisses up your throat. 

“We haven’t even had dinner,” you laugh as he tries to make you hook your legs around his waist so that he can pick you up, “Let me make dinner and then I’ll take you to bed for dessert.” 

“My favorite kind of dessert,” he smiles, pulling back from your neck to kiss your mouth, making you part your lips for his tongue. 

“Why don’t you take a nap on the couch while I make dinner, Frankie,” you say when he starts working his way back down along your jaw, “because at this rate, we’re never getting dinner,” you have to giggle when he starts pushing up your shirt, his warm hands palming over your back. 

“Too horny to take a nap now,” he chuckles, but he stands up and lets you slip off the counter. And when you start pulling out ingredients he gives your butt a final squeeze and does go to the couch. It doesn’t take long before you hear his soft snores, when you look over he’s face planted on the couch, one arm dangling off it, the other under his head as a pillow.

…

The trade is set up to take place after dark, and after curfew. Sunset in May in Boston is late so Frankie and the guys make their way to the meeting spot well before the curfew comes into effect and bunker down to wait for darkness. In an off limits building, an old office building near the QZ wall, Pope, Will and Benny have set up a secluded spot for the trade. Now the four of them are in the building across the small square, up on the fifth floor, inside a spacious apartment with a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, the lookout point. 

The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon while they wait for the agreed upon hour. Benny’s brought an old battered pack of playing cards and they’re killing time by playing rounds of poker. Frankie curses when he loses yet another game, thankful they’re only playing for the silver cutlery Pope found in the apartment's kitchen. The utensils clink as Will drags them across the dining room table after winning his seventh game. 

“Fuck, Will, teach me your ways,” Frankie grumbles, he’s down to two spoons and one knife.

“Skill, Catfish,” Will chuckles, sorting his cutlery into neat piles, “And years of counting numbers.” 

“I just keep getting shit cards,” Benny mutters, tossing his losing hand onto the table with a snap of his wrist, making them scatter. “Your turn to deal, Pope.” 

Pope gathers the cards and quickly deals again, “I’m winning those spoons back, Will, just so you know.” 

“Whatever you say, man, you’re happy to try,” Will chuckles, straightening out the six large spoons he’s got neatly lined up along his eight knives and eight forks. “Just need to get Frankie’s two spoons and I’ve got a full set.” 

After two more rounds, Frankie kicks back his chair and throws his arms up in defeat, “I’m fucking bust.” 

“It’s alright, Fish, Diana and I will be thinking about you when we have dinner tomorrow,” Will smirks, sliding the spoons over to his side of the table. 

Pope looks at his watch and out at the dark night sky, “We should get going, scout the area again and position ourselves.” 

Benny gathers the cards and they all pack up. Frankie makes his way out to the large balcony wrapped around the corner of the building and scans the square and the surrounding streets. 

“All’s quiet out there,” he says in a hushed voice as he comes back in. Pope grabs his radio and turns it to the pre-agreed frequency and tests the connection. 

“I’ll radio you when we’re in position, make sure the connection is clear,” he says, clipping it onto his belt as Frankie does the same with his radio. “And don’t forget our contact is going to signal you when they cross the square.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s all under control,” he nods, waiting while the three men pick up the equipment they’d put by the front door when they came in. Even though it was a trade, old habits die hard, and they all had concealed handguns and backpacks with extra gear. Frankie secures his own gun at the back of his pants and triple checks the battery on the radio before picking up a battered pair of binoculars. 

“Alright, ready to go?” Will asks and the other two nods. “Radio us if there’s anything irregular, Catfish.”

“Stay safe, I’ll see you at the rendezvous soon.” 

Frankie locks up behind the guys as they leave the apartment and hunkers down on the balcony. He’s dragged out some of the less damaged couch pillows and propped them up along the railing and floor, making a nest where he’s hidden from sight. Through a small opening he can scan the streets below, laying flat on his belly with the binoculars in front of him. His nerves are making him jumpy, he’s not used to being without the sleeping pills this long, and it adds an extra layer of stress to the usual laser focus he has during a mission. Even though he’s ‘just’ the lookout he feels the familiar tingling in his spine as he scans the street. 

The radio crackles to life on his belt and Pope’s voice comes through; “Catfish, we’re in position. Do you copy, over?” 

“Loud and clear, Pope. I’m in position, over.”

“Maintain radio silence unless necessary, over.” 

“Wilco, out.” 

He clips the radio back on to his belt and settles down. There’s still about thirty minutes left before the other party is due to turn up, but both Will and Pope like having plenty of margins to work with. He glances at his watch and calculates in his head how long it would take for one of the oxy tablets to kick in. He needs something to sooth his nerves, it’s like he can feel every seam and stitch on every piece of clothing he’s wearing, scratching and grating against his overheated skin. Even his hair is itching where it curls over his ears and he swipes off his cap and pushes it back. Just one oxy, to take the edge off, let him focus while he waits. 

He swallows it dry, almost regretting it as the bitter flavor coats the inside of his mouth. But soon he feels the effect, his body goes loose, the scratching stops. He watches two men hurry across the square, stopping to give a one handed wave three times up towards Frankie’s balcony. The trade is underway, he leans back against the wall. 

It’s so quiet up here. The QZ is always so noisy, so many people in such a small space, up here he can’t hear anything, it’s so peaceful. 

All the people are gone. It’s only him. Up here. 

And these pillows are so soft, they feel like clouds against his face. 

Only him high up in the sky with no noise.

Just soft pillows and soft clothes and darkness behind his eyelids.

Chapter 33

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

[dobiemart]

# — 01:02, ive got my eye on you.

paring, neteyam sully x na'vi! reader

wc, around 600

wrns, uhhhhhhhhh being outside idfk, the use of the word you is irritating as shit im so sorry

notes, prob ooc but ive obviously never written for him before so please dont banish me, its also been a hot minute since ive written in general

i dont really like this fic but yawl have it cause i cant delete a story with my husband in it

the beauty surrounding every inch of pandora was enough to keep you distracted for ages. each living thing had its own story to tell, a purpose to live, a partner to share their grounds with.

you took in the scenery with great detail, noting every reaction of what eywa had created for the people to enjoy. it was very easy to get lost in the patterns of plants aligning the pathway you strode through often.

as you continued walking, alerts to something – more less someone – traversing with you became more apparent. a twig snap here, a rustled bush there, and stifled laugh or two thrown in the mix.

the sounds became closer and closer, stalking its way close near you. a small smirk couldn't help but bully its way onto your face, knowing what was to come in a matter of seconds.

you heard the creature release one last breath, before starting to charge and pounce on your tall frame before–

“don't even think about it.”

though you couldn't see, you knew his shoulders deflated after you’d recognised him, his ears and tail drooping in defeat.

“how’d you know it was me?” neteyam huffed, disappointment laced in his voice. he took a series of large steps to get in front of you, sporting a small pout to exaggerate his emotion.

“you act as if i've ever fallen for it. a different tactic would benefit you, skxawng.” you snickered back at the boy.

since you were introduced by him accidentally sneaking up on you, he'd to sneak up on you like a predatory viperwolf everytime he had the chance.

after the first time, he never succeeded, yet he tried. the determination to get one small scare from you was quite cute.

“must you always ruin my fun, y/n?" he gave a goofy smile and a huff, repositioning himself to walk beside you.

“must you always invade my walks? one day i’ll be fooled into thinking you were a pack of nantangs. 'm gonna send you to eywa early,” you jokingly scolded, emphasizing your words with a small flick, earning a slight hiss.

unlike usual, neteyam didn't retort with a sassy remark. he’d gone deathly silent. if you couldn't feel his large presence beside you, you’d think he’d gone.

turning to see what had made him quiet, you were met with his luminous eyes staring daggers into your skull. his gaze wasn't broken by being caught, instead focusing on the glint in your eyes.

“what? is there something on me, nete?” you questioned, still immensely confused from the sudden mood switch.

“no. nothing is on you, my tsahìk. i just like looking at you, that is all.” he said, as if it was common sense. it brought a sudden heat into your skin, spreading throughout your body.

you covered your mouth, not wanting to show the childish smile sprouting upon your lips. though, neteyam didn't appreciate that. he moved himself in front of you again, blocking you from continuing on the path.

looking down at your slightly smaller frame, his mothers gaze shining through, neteyam gently pulled your hand away. he needed to see your smile, knowing that he was the one that put it on your face.

“you don't ever have to hide from me, my love.” he paused shortly, wondering if he’d used the name he heard his dad use right. “i want to see you. i do see you.”

he rested his forehead against yours, gaining a sweet smile of his own when you returned his gaze.

“and i see you, neteyam.”

additional talk, wake up!! its the first fic of the month!!!

i toldd yawlll i go on hella hiatusesss... but im back because my avatar phase is reuniting for neteyam and lo'ak and jake and neytiri and did i mention neteyam and my baby daddy neteyam (if u cant tell i love neteyam.)

i cannot explain how much i love every single second of anything avatar related and im glad everybody is realizing these 10 foot motherfuckers with hourglass bodies are fuckable loveable.

there will mosttt def be more fics coming soon (and i promise ima hit those requests asap), along with my annual monthly blog revamp and such and such yada yada whatever i miss my boy and im tired goodnight.

© dobiemart 2023 — ☆ (OH MY GOD ITS 2023 JHAHSHF)

[gardens-light]

Hello, could you write to Hellboy and Fem! Reader. Where the reader is a half-demon, controls fire and can fly.And in the story, Red and Readers are sitting on the street and feeding stray cats, and Hellboy says: “You know, you remind me of a cat.” The reader asks why, Hellboy replies that: "You and the cats are the only ones who have shown me so much love and affection." And for such words, he is already lying on the ground, and the reader kisses him.Thank you very much!❤️

Thank you for the request! I always appreciate prompts and any ideas that anyone may have for a fanfic request. Apologies for not getting it it straight away, but alas! Here it is! Hope you enjoy!

As always, please feel free to like, reblog and comment. :)

Demons and Felines

An autumn breeze swept through the moonlit city, sending chills down the spines of people who walked along the streets. All huddled up in their coats and scarfs, attempting to keep whatever body warmth they had. Only the sounds of rustling leaf's in the wind, and the echoing of car horns broke the midnight silence.

Hidden away in the mazes of back streets and narrow alleyways, an unknown protector of New York sat upon the dimly lit sidewalk.

"Guess what daddy brought." Hellboy's playful tone caught the attention of the stray cats.

Their small meows slightly echoing throughout the empty street, breeds of all kinds greeted him excitedly. Some purring and already weaving in and out of his legs. A small chuckle left him, as he pulled out small plastic dishes, from the inside pocket of his leather trench coat.

"You already know what time it is. And look! I've brought more tonight!"

As he proudly pulled out three tins from his trench coat, Hellboy knelt against the cobbled road. The smell of tuna filled the street, alerting more cats to his whereabouts. He carefully attempted to dish out the tuna evenly across the multiple plates.

"There you go- hey Tabby! Just because there's more food, doesn't mean you can eat more."

Hellboy gently picked up a tabby cat, looking into it's hazel eyes with a soft expression. "You need to share, Tabby. Everyone's just as hungry as you." His tone was gentle, similar to how a parent may address a toddler when correcting their behavior.

Tabby responded with a small meow, the tone a little softer than usual. As though the feline was expressing small amount of guilt, a warm smile came to Hellboy. "It's alright, Tabby. Just remember to share."

After placing Tabby back among with the rest of his litter, Hellboy shuffled away from the stray felines. Giving them room to enjoy their dinner, as he pulled out a cigar from the inside pocket of his coat. Reaching into the swallow pocket of his leather trousers, a small grumble escaped his lips.

"I've found you, Red."

A new but familiar voice filled the air, Hellboy looked up towards the second story balcony. The white glow from the lamp post exposed the feminine silhouette, as they elegantly balanced upon the rusty iron railings of the balcony. His golden eyes met their gentle expression, a small amount of flirtation twinkling within her eyes.

A cheeky grin stretched across his lips, leaning back against his hands as he looked up at the individual.

"I didn't realize we were playing 'Hide n Seek'"

Her laughter was like a melody to Hellboy's ears.

"Imagine the look on Manning's face, when he realizes you're wondering around."

He raised an eyebrow, "are we just discussing his face? Surely, the ass hat would lose his damn mind, when he discovers we're both out."

"Haha. Oh of course..." her eyes watched Hellboy as he patted himself down. "Forgot your mathes again?"

"Yeah..." A cheeky grin came to him, "suppose you wouldn't offer a light?"

A sweet melody of giggles filled the air, as you spread out your demonic wings to their full span. The rigid edges reaching out a mare inches further, than your fingertips. They beated like the wings of an eagle, picking up dust and a slight gust of wind. A breeze blew over Hellboy, as your feet hovered away from the balconies' railings. You elegantly hovered in the air for a brief moment, before slowly gliding towards the ground.

"Show off." Hellboy joked, as your feet touched the cobblestone street. A smile came to your lips, while you gave the cats a brief pat of affection.

"Well one of us need to provide a bit of class and elegance."

"Hey! I can be classy when I want to be."

Another laughter escaped you. Your wings tucking inwards towards your back, just a little, as you knelt against the pavement. With a simple click of your fingers, a small flame danced above your thumb. Although it was no bigger than a flame upon a candle, the warmth it provided was much greater.

Hellboy hovered his cigar close to the flame, allowing the edges to burn slightly before placing it to his lips, and letting out a puff of smoke away from your direction.

"That's a handy trick. Satan was clearly playing favourites when he created you."

You sat beside him, gently waving your hand as the flame upon your thumb blew out. Only leaving a small traces of smoke behind your back.

"Oh I don't think so." You spoke in a flirtatious tone, as your free hand caressed the hard stone of his right arm. "I kinda think he made us equal."

"Coming from a sexy half-breed, who can control fire and can fly." Hellboy scoffed.

You playfully punched his shoulder, "oh please! You rearrange my ovaries, when you make love to me."

The cheeky grin upon his lips grew wider as he blew another puff of smoke. You leaned closer to him, resting your head upon his shoulder, as you both watched the cats eat and play in silence. It was small moments like these that were your favourites, just simple calm moments of peace and quiet. Sure everyone at the Bureau were like family, especially when it came to old man Professor Broom. He welcomed you with open arms and a warm heart. Abe was thrilled to have another 'unique person' on the team.

But nobody bounded with you more than Hellboy. Although your human performic from was outshined by your demonic talents, Hellboy was simply in awe from the day he met you. It was in quiet moments, where you two really felt like a couple. As it gave you the time to connect better and have deep convocations, in between the continuous 'go! Go! Go!' action back at the Bureau.

As a few cats finished their meal and wandered off, the usual few that you begun to know and name, begun to wave in and out of your legs. Hellboy scratched under Tabby's chin, as the stray brushed against his hand.

"You know... you remind me of a cat."

You raised an eyebrow at Hellboy, "why?"

A heavy sigh left his mouth, as he put out his cigar. Placing the burnt out end against the concrete pavement, before placing it into the inside pocket of his trench coat. He placed his hands behind is head, slowly leaning back and laying upon the ground.

"Because you and the cats are the only ones who have shown me so much love and affection."

"Awww, Red..."

A small gasp of surprise left him as, you slowly leaned over him, your face close to his. Your noses almost touching.

"A man like you deserves all the love and affection, one could possibly receive."

Your delicate kiss silenced him, allowing him to simply melt into your embrace. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you on top of him.

[deceitfuldevout]

Hidden Treasure (Part 7)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Forced Breeding.

Author's note(s): Tommy is a daddy if you catch my dift ;)

Tommy doesn’t return for days after, instead he sends over a maid to watch over. You remember the tea she made. Herbal richness, with a dash of honey. It was a simple, kind gesture. Like the tea that Alfie was making you now. His was simple, a tad bit strong with a little sweetness. Much like himself.

He waits until you’ve taken a sip. You sigh from the feeling of warmth now spreading through your body, “Thank you…I needed that.”

“Of course, of course love.” he gives a smirk that makes his eyes crinkle the slightest, “So, this is your first time running off?”

“…No, no it isn’t,” You remember your first time at attempting to escape. It was the middle of the night when you had slid out of bed. Careful not to disturb the man slumbering besides you. He was always quite the light sleeper, that's if he's slept. During some nights you could almost pity his whimpers. The war may be over, but some the men still relive it. Only after taking you did he have a proper night's rest.

You remember storing a secret briefcase downstairs, hidden deep within the coat closet. You shove the clothing aside to where your case should have been, pushing and pulling around the other coats. To your dismay there had been nothing.

“Looking for something?” a voice calls from atop of the stairs. You whip your attention to where Tommy now stood. You’re unable to muster even a sentence, “I... I was just…” now at a loss for words. His voice is calm, “Just what? Hm?” He starts walking down each step. You’re trapped under his gaze. Unable to move.

A faint light from the master bedroom dims against his pale complexion. He’s alert. As if he’d been waiting for this very moment. No...he must've already found out. You might as well fess up, “Tommy, I hate it here, I feel like I’m a prisoner in my own home–”

“My home, that you live under,” he corrects. You scoff, “See that?! That is exactly what I mean! You keep acting like you own everything, Like you own me,”

“Don't I?”

“Thomas enough!” your patience is running thin, “I’m done, I can't do this anymore! I want to be free from this–from you!”

“If you want to act like a prisoner, that’s fine,” he tilts his head to signal whoever it was behind you, ”Go ahead boys.” It’s John and Arthur. You back away from them cautiously, with both hands held in front of you, “Please...don’t do this..!”

John mouths a faint ‘sorry’ before clutching onto your arm. Arthur has the other gripped in his. Both brothers follow Tommy through the household, until he stops in front of a side door, the only one that you’ve never been in before. He pulls out a key, unlocking it before leading you inside. As soon as they make it to the bottom, Arthur and John quickly leave, with you and Tommy now alone in the basement.

Deep down he knew that you wouldn’t want to stay, he doesn't blame you. No amount of convincing himself that with enough persuasion, would make you want to stay, If word got out that the Thomas Shelby been secretly married this entire time someone, somewhere, they would use you against him. You wouldn’t stand a chance in his world. They would tear you apart. Part of him still believed it would be best to set you free. But the other half, wanted nothing more than to trap you in his prison forever.

His ungrateful little wife. He wants you to rely on him for everything. He would be your entire world and more, the very air you breathe. It was his mistake for spoiling you. He should've never given you the idea that it was alright to disobey him. You didn't care about how much he's done for you and your family. Or what sacrifices he's made in order to strengthen the bond. He's provided and protected you from such a cruel, vile world.

He was afraid something like this would happen. He knows that people like you will never view him as being a proper member of society. To think he once believed you were different from the others. At the end of the day, you are still a prim and proper uptown girl. What you need is a good snap back into reality. Then it hits him, your marriage can be beautiful, Tommy just has to guide you to the right direction. Even if it means by force. He's certain that in the end you would be much happier with child.

Tommy had found a way to keep you at home. He wouldn’t admit it, but the first time he saw you playing with Charlie, it ignited something feral in him. What better way than to bring in another heir for his growing empire. He knew he wanted to become a father again, and that you would make a great mother.

He made sure not to use any form of protection. The sooner you’d be with child, the better. You won’t put yourself at risk knowing that another life may be in danger. So, he'd taken advantage of every moment to plant his seed in you. Both of you are stark naked on the basement bed. For how long he had been planning on bringing you down here, you hadn’t a clue. Tommy takes charge. As usual. His thrusts are sloppy yet still ongoing. You've tried prying him off, but it only reminded you of your husband’s military strength.

Each day ended with him rutting into his sweet wife, until finally spilling his seed deep inside her womb, “T-tommy stop...!” you whine, barely audible. But he doesn’t listen, he never does. After that, he waits for you to sleep before succumbing to slumber himself. Leaving you in a basement for a week had been your punishment for trying to escape. Tommy kept you locked in with no human contact other than his own and a maid to serve you meals.

That’s when you got to know the youngest Shelby brother, Finn.

[griffin-girl-r]

Fight for their lives (Part 2) (Alternative ending 1)

Created: 06.06.2023

Finished: 14.06.2023

Edited: 25.09.2023

Age: 18

Word count: 6,011

Warnings: Child loss

Request: Yes (Tumblr user)

Pairing: BlackHill

Part 1 , Part 2 (AE 2)

—

The first to open her eyes was Maria, who, blinded by the bright light of the afternoon sun, tightly shut them closed once again as she took a moment to adjust her sight.

Turning her head to her right, the first thing she noticed was the fierce long red hair of her wife, who was still unconscious, spread on the white pillow, making her smile at Natasha's stunning beauty.

But the smile quickly turned into a frown when she noticed how her wife's entire body was covered in wounds and how the cast on her leg slightly poked out from under the white blanket Natasha was covered with.

Looking down, Maria also noticed the cast on her hand and she could only imagine that she looked fairly similar to Natasha.

Natasha.

Her sweet wife that almost died because the people they called their friends were willing to let her die inside rather than going in to save her.

"Natasha..." Maria chocked out, her voice only above a whisper

"Hey... You're okay." A deep voice reassured Maria "She's okay."

Maria looked in the direction from where the voice came and found Bruce there with a smile on his face.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted Bruce that Maria started to show signs of waking up and he rushed towards their room as fast as he could.

"Tasha..." Maria lightly coughed

"She's going to be fine. Don't worry." Bruce started doing a quick check-up on the brunette "She's about to wake up any moment just as you did."

"What happened?" Maria asked in her groggy state

"You got into an explosion on your way out." Bruce explained "Lucky, you both just got away with a few broken bones, nothing major."

"For how long was I out?" Maria looked around the room trying to find anything that could indicate to her what hour it is

"For about 3 days and a half." The doctor said

"Oh my God..." Maria gasped quietly "Y/N! Where is she, Bruce? Where is my daughter?"

"She... Umm..." Bruce had no idea how he was supposed to break this news to Maria "She's..."

"Maria..." Natasha groaned, scrunching her face in pain

"Tasha!" Maria quietly shouted panicked "Tasha, baby, are you okay?"

"Mia?" Natasha questioned confused with her eyes still closed

"I'm here, babe!" Maria reassured "I'm right here! Can you open your eyes for me, beautiful? Please..."

As told, Natasha slowly opened her eyes, taking in the brightness of the daylight, and turned her head to her left where she found Maria's worried gaze fixed on her.

"My leg..." Natasha cried in pain

"Can you give her something for the pain?" Maria pleaded, looking at Bruce "Please."

"But of course." Bruce nodded, walking over to Natasha's bed "I'm going to give you something for your arm as well."

"Arm?" Natasha mumbled confused, her eyes going wide when she noticed the cast Maria had on her arm "Mia! Sweetheart, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby. Don't worry." Maria smiled reassuringly "I'm okay, you're okay, we're both okay. Just calm down."

"Why are we here?" Natasha looked in between Maria and Bruce

"There has been a little incident that happened during the mission." Bruce spoke "Remember? The poisonous gas and then, after Maria pulled you out of there, you both have been caught up in an explosion. The team dug you out. You had your leg out of place. I fixed it, don't worry. Maria has her arm broken and both have a few broken ribs but, again, it's nothing major that can't be healed. You just need time to recover."

Natasha nodded "Where's Y/N? I want to see her."

Natasha asked the question that Bruce dreaded to answer because he didn't know how to answer it.

He can't keep avoiding telling your mothers the truth about you.

"She's just sleeping." Bruce lied to the worried mothers "You have scared the poor kid so much."

"We're sorry." Natasha sighed looking at Maria with tearful eyes

"Don't worry, you two." Bruce smiled sadly "I know for a fact that she isn't mad at you."

"I can't wait to see her." Maria smiled "I miss her."

"We both miss her." Natasha added

"Well, how about you both take a nap, recover your strengths a little, and after you wake up again you can see her? How does that sound?" Bruce proposed

"We can do that." Maria agreed

"But, Mia..." Natasha wanted to protest but was quickly stopped by Maria

"We need to let her rest, Nat." Maria tried to reason "She must be so tired after everything we made her go through in the past few days."

"Yeah..." Natasha sighed sadly "You're right."

"Great." Bruce clapped his hands "It's settled then, ladies. You both take a nap and while you sleep I'll take care of everything else."

Maria extended her hand and waited for Natasha to do the same.

The redheaded spy wasted no second in grabbing her wife's hand and giving it a light squeeze.

"Sweet dreams, beautiful." Maria quietly said, giving her a soft smile

"Sweet dreams, gorgeous." Natasha reciprocated the smile

Maria waited for Natasha to close her eyes before following her wife's cue and fell asleep in a few seconds.

—

"How are they feeling?" Clint eagerly asked Bruce once he walked into the living room where the entire team was gathered

"They are okay. I'm confident that in a few days, I'll be able to allow them to go back to their room." Bruce sighed deeply "But they asked about Y/N."

"And?" Steve raised his eyebrow "What have you told them?"

"That she's sleeping in her room." Bruce looked at the floor "I couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth just yet."

"I think that's better." Steve nodded "We should all be there when we tell them what is actually going on."

"We should be there for them." Wanda sniffed before bursting into tears again "Oh, Y/N..." She cried

Steve rubbed Wanda's back gently, quietly trying to comfort his teammate.

"I told them to take a nap and they agreed." Bruce said "We will talk with them after they wake up."

"The question is, how will we break the news on them?" Clint asked tearfully

"We'll think about a way to tell them, without giving them an instant shock." Steve sighed sadly "Although there's no easy way of telling them."

"We just hope they won't react too badly." Bruce nodded, quietly agreeing with Steve

—

A few hours later, the couple was wide awake and lovingly staring into each other's eyes.

"I love you so much." Maria whispered to Natasha, bringing the redheaded woman's hand up to her lips and gently kissing it, because yes, Natasha's bed was that close to Maria's

"Thank you so much for saving my life." Natasha smiled, squeezing Maria's hand "Mia, it was so crazy of you to run inside the building for me without thinking twice."

Maria shook her head "I'll do it all again without hesitation. Don't ever dare to say something like this again. My life without you means nothing."

"But you would still have Y/N." Natasha pointed out "Even if I wouldn't be here anymore, I would keep living through her."

"But still..." Maria sighed, looking into Natasha's green eyes "You're my wife, my soulmate. We're bonded forever. In life and death. That's what we swore when we united our destinies forever. To stand by each other's side through everything. Good or bad."

"I love you, Maria Hill." Natasha smiled

"I love you too, Natasha Romanoff-Hill." Maria smiled back

Just then, the sweet moment between the couple was interrupted by the sound created by the door of the room that swung open, revealing Bruce followed by the rest of the team.

"Hey, guys." Maria smiled excited "It's so good to see you."

"We were wondering what took you guys so long to come and check on us." Natasha added

"Yep. We were." Maria nodded but then her smile slightly turned into a serious frown "Except you, Rogers, because you were trying to keep me away from my wife."

"But I did move out of your way." Steve pointed out "I was just trying to save everyone's lives."

"I guess that's fair." Maria shrugged "We're good."

"Thank you." Steve slightly smiled

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha asked concerned as she scanned the crowd with her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of her little girl

"Right..." Maria dragged out, looking at Bruce "You promised us she'll come to see us when we wake up."

"Tasha... Maria..." Clint stepped forward but it was clear he tried his best to avoid the mothers' gaze "There's something we need to tell you. There is something you have to know."

Natasha turned her head toward Maria and worriedly looked at her wife.

Natasha gave Maria that look that screamed 'What is going on?'.

Maria just shook her head to show Natasha that she was equally just as confused as her wife was.

"Clint, be a man." Maria quickly turned her head around toward their friend "Just tell us what is wrong with our daughter. Where is she?"

"Y/N..." Clint took a deep breath but couldn't bring himself to continue the sentence

"I'll take it from here, Clint." Steve patted Clint's shoulder as he stepped forward

"Steve? What is going on?" Natasha's voice was filled with a mix of utter confusion and motherly concern "What are you hiding from us?"

"There aren't many ways to explain this so I'll just go straight to the point." Steve rubbed his forehead, trying to put this into words as best as he could "So you both have inhaled the gas that was released into the air inside that room, and maybe Bruce has already told you, and you know, that the gas was highly poisonous. The injuries caused by the explosion were nothing compared to the internal damage created by that poison."

"So you want to say that..." Maria started

"Yes." Steve interrupted the commander "The poison had managed to quickly spread throughout your entire bodies and you both started showing signs that your body was starting to fail down. Bruce didn't have the antidote for whatever that gas was. The only thing he did was to slow down the process but it was only a matter of time till the inevitable happened. You were both almost dead."

"And how did you manage to save us then?" Maria asked again, as Natasha was too shocked to speak

"We didn't." Steve admitted "Y/N did."

"Y/N did what?" Natasha finally spoke at the mention of her daughter "She's only a kid. How could she save us when you all couldn't?"

"We aren't sure what she did exactly." Steve explained calmly "We just know that after she spent a few minutes alone here with you guys, she ran out, her mind made up on the fact that she would save her mothers. Not one word was said about her plan. She returned a day later with the antidote in her hand being seriously injured and refused to accept any help before you both received the cure that saved your lives."

"How bad is it?" Maria tensed her shoulders and her jaw became even sharper than it already was, if that was possible "What are her injuries?"

In Natasha's eyes, on the other hand, tears welled up and she suddenly forgot how to talk.

"Just calm down a little." Steve signaled with his hands for them to breathe "Y/N..."

The expectation was heavily hanging in the air and the parents felt like going crazy from worry.

Their baby girl has been hurt just because she put her life in danger to save theirs.

"God damn it, Steven!" Natasha suddenly shouted, taking everyone by surprise "Just tell us what is the state of our daughter! You're killing us with this waiting! We're about to go crazy from worry!"

"Y/N..." Steve took a deep breath in, attempting to gather enough courage to continue "She is... Dead. I'm so sorry..."

Time froze still in those moments as Natasha's and Maria's worlds came crashing down on them.

Steve must be lying because such an unfathomable scenario could never happen.

And yet, Steve never lied.

They knew.

But still...

"I want to see her." Maria coldly demanded, throwing her blanket off of her, as she sat up

"Maria, no." Steve rushed forward to push Maria back down on the bed

"Hell yes." Shouted Maria who was trying to fight Steve to let her go

"I'll go to her." Natasha also threw her blanket off of her but, unlike Maria, her leg wasn't making it too easy for her to move around

"Nat, no." Clint was quick in making his way over to his best friend's bed and keeping her in place "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Get off of me, Clint!" Natasha shouted "I need to see my baby. Steve is lying. She's actually in her room. Bruce told us. She's sleeping."

"Natasha, just calm down, please." Clint begged "Listen to us."

"No!" Natasha screamed "I want to see Y/N."

"Rogers, I swear to God." Maria threatened while Natasha kept screaming "I'm going to kill you."

"Hill we aren't playing around here." Steve tried to dodge the slaps from Maria "Stand down."

"Take me to my daughter." Maria shouted "That's a direct order. I want to see her with my own eyes."

Both Steve and Clint tried to hold the mothers back without much success.

Those two women were putting up a hell of a fight.

"Let them go." Bruce shouted at Clint and Steve "I'm tired of this. Let them see her."

"But, Bruce..." Wanda sniffed

"Doctor Banner, that's a really bad idea." Steve interrupted Wanda

"We must let them have some kind of closure with their daughter." Bruce explained, his voice firm, but his eyes full of unshed tears "Wanda?" He looked toward the girl "Can you use your powers to stop them from feeling the physical pain from their injuries?"

Wanda nodded and with a move of her hand, a red smoke started glowing from her fingers, quickly engulfing Maria and Natasha.

"Steve, pick Natasha up." Bruce instructed "Clint, help Maria sit up and walk."

The men rushed to do as they'd been told and took the women to the room where they would be facing their worst nightmare.

—

The door swung open and some light entered the dark room through the crack of it.

A shiver ran down everyone's spines as the, not only dark atmosphere, but also the cold temperature of the room greeted them alongside silence.

Maria's and Natasha's eyes were scanning the dark room around, waiting for you to pop out from the shadows and scare them, since they knew how much you loved to prank them.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, they slightly jumped scared when someone flicked the lights on and artificial light filled the room.

The air around was hanging heavy with sorrow, almost becoming unbreathable.

When they spotted it the mothers had two, very different, reactions.

Natasha, who was still carried by Steve, froze.

She was unable to move one muscle of her body, not one finger at least.

She was staring wide-eyed at the blanket that was clearly covering someone's body on the lone table placed in the middle of the room.

It's not every day that the table is put to use.

And in these circumstances, the Avengers wished they never had to use it.

Not for this.

Maria, on the other hand, took off sprinting in the table's direction, and without the slightest moment of hesitation, she pulled the blanket down.

The commander couldn't contain her gasp when, right there on that damned table, she saw her precious daughter, laying motionless, her beautiful pale skin paler than ever.

No trace of blood on you since Bruce made sure that Wanda changed your clothes into a pair of grey joggers and an immaculate white t-shirt, both picked from your wardrobe, after he stitched the wounds up and cleaned you.

If they didn't know better, the team, which over time has turned into a big family, could swear that you were just sleeping.

Laying like that, in those clothes, with your wavy hair untied and sprawled out on the unforgivingly cold table.

"Y/N." Maria shook you after her momentarily shock passed "Y/N!"

Natasha was still as zoned out, her eyes glued on your peaceful face, as the first time she entered the door.

The redhead wasn't even noticing Maria struggling to shake your body with the hand that wasn't in a cast.

But the shaking wasn't giving any results.

Maria had to act fast and she knew what she had to do in situations like these.

She vividly remembers this being one of her first military classes while being a new recruit.

So she started doing CPR, pushing air out of her lungs into yours once in a while, hoping that the mouth-to-mouth would make her attempt even more successful.

She wasn't caring about her broken arm.

She could only concentrate on the fact that she needed to revive you, although she could feel on your skin how ice-cold your body was.

“Breathe, Y/N!" Maria commanded you in the harsh tone that she only had reserved for her agents "Come on! Wake up!" She kept shouting "Come on! That’s an order, agent!”

"Maria..." Someone softly called her but she ignored the voice

"Wake up, kid!" She shouted once again as she continued performing CPR "You know I don't like people disobeying my orders! Wake up! I gave you an order!"

Maria kept shouting commands at your lifeless body for a few more minutes.

She wasn't going to give up on you.

Not yet.

But she slowly started to realize on her own that it was useless. All her attempts were in vain.

She wasn't going to receive an answer from you, no matter how hard she tried.

“Please, baby...” Maria's voice cracked at the end as her hands stopped moving and she slammed her head on your chest "Please..."

Loud sobs started coming out of Maria's mouth as she felt like the most useless and worst mother in this, or any, world for not being able to protect you enough.

You were dead because of her.

Because she wasn't strong enough.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Maria sobbed on your chest "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I'm sorry."

Everyone gathered around the room wanted to step in and try to comfort Maria but they knew that she needed to let it all out first, they couldn't dare interrupt the moment of two mothers grieving for their daughter. It would be a sin to do so.

No words in the world could ease the pain inside their hearts.

The only thing that could, isn't alive anymore.

The sun wasn't going to rise and shine in the morning for the Romanoff-Hill family again.

They were cursed to live in the dark for the rest of their lives.

"My kid!" Maria shouted painfully, punching your chest with her fist "My child!"

Maria's acceptance of the situation seemed to finally snap something inside Natasha as she silently shuffled down from Steve's arms and sat down on the edge of the table where her only baby was lying dead.

Although her entire life, her heart, her soul, her joy, was lifelessly lying there, Natasha's face was devoid of all emotions.

Not one tear was present in her eyes.

She couldn't feel anything on the inside anymore.

Damned be the moment her daughter's life was taken.

That is her only baby girl, the one she has wanted her entire life, the only one she ever had, the only one she'll ever be able to have.

Why would anyone dare to hurt her beloved little baby in such a way?

"Maria?" Natasha asked confused, her voice worryingly too calm, as she pushed her wife's head away from your chest "Why did you stop? Keep going!" She screamed "Damn it! Don't stop!"

"Tasha..." Maria sniffed, looking up at her wife with eyes filled with pain "Babe..."

"Don't 'babe' me!" Natasha kept screaming "I told you to keep going! You can't stop! You're not allowed to stop until my baby wakes up!"

Maria shook her head at Natasha before looking down and quietly starting to cry again.

"No..." Your Mama mumbled as she took you into her arms and cradled your head close to her chest "No, baby, no..."

That was the moment the scary Russian assassin really realized that no one, not even her wife, could bring her daughter back and she allowed herself to break down.

Loud wails escaped her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks, falling into your hairline, socking it wet.

"My baby!" Natasha screamed, starting to rock your body and herself back and forth "My baby! Y/N! Why? Why, baby, why? Just why? Haven't I lost enough already?! Haven't I suffered for my sins enough?! I never wanted this life! I was forced into it just to have the things I love most taken away from me!"

Maria fell to her knees beside the table as she rested her forehead on it, not being able to bring herself to look at her wife anymore.

Various people turned their heads away from the heart-wrenching sight and Wanda even covered her ears while tightly shutting her eyes closed.

"First my biological mother, then Yelena, my childhood, my choices, my adoptive family, my freedom!" Natasha screamed at no one in particular "And now my daughter! Why her? She's innocent! She didn't have to pay for my mistakes! If you really want a life, take mine! Just make my baby wake up!" Her sobs slowly started to subside "Just take mine. Please..."

Natasha numbly looked down at her daughter's head that the mother had safely tucked in her chest, trying to find comfort in that feeling as she kept rocking her child.

Humming filled the room all of a sudden as Natasha started humming the very same song that used to calm her daughter when she was a baby, silent tears still rolling down her cheeks.

She clung to your body as if her life depended on it, and refused to let go.

"Nat, I think it's time to go." Steve whispered after a few minutes, holding Natasha back by her shoulders gently "We need to get her ready for the funeral."

“No..." Natasha's voice broke "You can’t take her! Please don’t take her." She sniffed "Please, not yet. It's not her time. She's still just a baby. She needs her mama with her.”

"But we have to let her sleep, Nat." Clint started playing Natasha's game "We don't want to wake her up. You know how grumpy she is when she's woken up from her nap."

"Yeah..." Natasha nodded, lured by Clint's words "Yeah, you're right. My Y/N doesn't like to be woken up too harshly."

"See?" Clint managed to pull Natasha away from your body slightly, but his best friend still refused to fully let go of her dead child "You know I'm right. Let's go outside while she naps."

"Do you have a pillow?" Natasha stroked the back of your head "Whoever put her down for her nap didn't put a pillow under her head. I think it was Maria." She added "She usually does that because she thinks that putting her head on a pillow will hurt her neck."

"But of course that I do." Clint tried to seem enthusiastic "Just let me bring it to you."

Clint desperately looked up toward Bruce and the doctor pointed with his head towards a cabinet on the other side of the room.

Clint ran over and quickly pulled out a pillow from inside the cabinet, running just as fast with it back to Natasha.

"Thank you." Natasha took the pillow from her friend's hand and placed it down on the table "There you go, baby." She smiled, carefully lowering your head down on the pillow and moving your hair away from your eyes "That's better."

The spy pulled the blanket that was still covering your legs halfway up, tucking you in just like she used to do when you were a child.

"Sweet dreams, kitten." Natasha whispered after she kissed your forehead

"Let's go, Tasha." Clint urged when he saw that Natasha was lost in lovingly looking at your sleeping face "Let's go have a cup of coffee while she sleeps."

Natasha hesitantly nodded and Clint quickly, but carefully, scooped her up and carried her out of the room.

"What happened to her?" Maria's voice was heard again

"Eight bullet wounds all over her body." Bruce told her "One of them was fired so close to her heart that it actually managed to scrap it. Adrenaline kept her going until she arrived back here. She died of a heart arrest and excessive bleeding alongside internal bleeding that was the one to cause the heart arrest in the first place."

"Who did this to her?" Maria's heart was filled with a sudden urge for revenge

"We don't know yet." Steve answered "But we will find out. I promise."

Maria nodded before looking back at your face and tearing up.

"I hope that one day you can forgive me." Maria whispered, kissing your hand

Your Mom stood up and, with one last kiss to your forehead, she pulled the blanket all the way over your head, closing her eyes after she did to recollect herself for a second.

"I love you so much, kid." Maria said

And with that, she stormed out of the room without another word.

—

The true challenge came the next day because it was the day, two mothers were supposed to be burying their beloved baby six feet under in the cold and dirty ground.

Throughout the entire ceremony, Natasha was surprisingly calm and collected while Maria was putting her usual strong facade on even though everyone who looked at her could see the pain and fight in Maria's eyes.

Natasha was surprisingly calm and collected until the moment to lower the casket, with her baby inside of it, into the ground, came.

To each corner of the casket, a man was standing there.

The four men who were chosen to be the ones to lower the coffin were the very same men you used to call your favorite uncles.

At the front left of it was standing Tony.

You loved Tony because he always, without fail, gave you money and allowed you to assist him in the lab. You loved his sarcastic side and humor. And he always made sure to remind you how sorry he was for that incident when you were 6, although you told him he didn't have to worry about it anymore.

At the front right of it was standing Steve.

You loved Steve so much because he used to bake cookies for you, read you your favorite books, or teach you old songs from the time when he used to be your age and before the war started.

At the back left of it was standing Clint.

You loved Clint because he was unable to say 'no' to you. He was your mama's best friend and has been a father figure for you from the moment you were born. You loved his family. His kids were your cousins that now won't have you around them anymore to play with you and his wife, Auntie Laura as you called her, always saw you as her own child. Your sudden death left them completely devastated.

At the back right of it was standing Bucky.

You loved Bucky because you were the only person he gave his permission to stick fridge magnets on his arm. Many people requested that but only you were allowed. He always allowed you to play with Alpine, his cat, and he helped you, alongside your mothers, learn how to ride a motorcycle while also telling you stories about your Mama when she was nothing more than a teenager that he took under his wing while training her.

When the men bent down to pick the casket up, they were unexpectedly stopped by Maria.

"Wait!" She shouted, walking over "Just wait."

They thought that she wasn't ready to let go of you but instead, she silently pushed Clint aside with one pleading look and took his place.

Maria has left everyone speechless with her gesture that indicated acceptance of the fact that you were actually gone and never coming back again.

She was ready to let go of your body.

To allow you to finally rest.

"Don't you dare!" Natasha shouted at her wife when she saw Maria bending down

"I have to." Maria whispered and Natasha lost it

"I said don't!" Natasha screamed "Listen here, Hill. If you dare be the one to lower our baby into that grave I'm going to kill you. She isn't going anywhere! You're her Mom. How can you do something like this to her?"

"I'm so sorry, Tasha." Maria sniffed, guilt written on her face

"It's only your fault!" Natasha cried "Yours! I am never going to forgive you, Maria Hill! I hope you rot in hell for what you did to my baby! I hate you!"

"I just wanted to save you!" Maria tearfully shouted back "You! My wife! How was I supposed to know this was going to happen?"

"I told you!" Natasha screamed "I told you to protect her! I used my last strengths to tell you to take care of her! To go home back to her! If you had listened to me she would be alive right now! She would be safe. You would have been there for her, to help her grieve my death. She would still be alive and I would've been the one lowered in that grave today instead of my child!"

Natasha wanted to throw herself at Maria and push her away from that casket but she was held back by an invisible force who was restricting her moves.

"Wanda! Let go of me!" The spy shouted, recognizing whose magic was holding her back

"I'm sorry, Nat." Wanda tried her hardest not to burst into tears "It's for your own good."

"No!" Natasha screamed, trying to fight her unseen restraints

"Now!" Wanda shouted at the men and Maria

The next few seconds were a blur for Natasha just as they were for Maria.

One mother had to watch her baby being lowered into the grave.

The other mother had to lower her baby into the grave.

Nothing was more painful in this world than the pain caused by the loss of your child.

They know now.

Natasha and Maria know.

"Don't!" Natasha screamed as tears cascaded down her cheeks "Not her! Not my baby, my girl, my little kitten, my sweet angel! Anyone, but not her!"

And that's how a beautifully written story had a tragic ending.

—

For the next few days, Natasha and Maria avoided each other as much as they avoided passing by your room's door and knowing that you were not inside.

They were aware of the fact that this was a moment when they needed each other's comfort but both women were too stubborn to admit it.

Maria drowned herself in work, trying to distract herself from her feelings.

Natasha was just lying around in her bed, hugging a picture of her sweet baby girl tightly to her chest. She tried to find comfort in hugging the comforter and pretending that she was actually hugging you but her heart was telling her the painful truth that the comforter wasn't her child.

It wasn't until one week later that Natasha decided to open the door of your room and have a look inside.

It was as if her heart started bleeding.

Everything inside that room was a painful reminder of the fact that you are gone from this world.

Your Mama stepped inside shily and couldn't contain her tears as her eyes scanned every part of that room.

The room was untouched. Exactly how you left it almost two weeks ago and never returned to it.

It was as if the room was waiting for your return, frozen in time.

Your headphones and your phone were thrown on the bed, as the sheets were pulled back and the pillows messed around with.

One door of your closet was slightly open and your favorite childhood teddy bear was lonely lying in the middle of the bed.

On your desk was a project that Natasha knew you had started working on the night before they had to leave for that cursed mission that broke your family apart.

A project that will never be finished.

She carefully sat down on the edge of your bed and dared to pick up your phone.

Much to her surprise, the phone still had some battery left after so many days and Natasha rushed to get the charger and fully charge it.

She opened it and looked through all the silly pictures, funny videos, and songs you had on your phone.

"Oh, baby..." Natasha sighed deeply "I miss you so much! I miss you more than anything. I want to be with you wherever you are."

"If you go to her then her sacrifice was in vain." Maria leaned in the door frame and looked at her wife "She died to save us. She gave her life for ours. If we take our lives then her death was for nothing. Believe me. I thought about this option. We must keep living for her."

"It hurts so bad." Natasha quietly cried, forgetting about any resentment she had for Maria at that moment "Every part of my body hurts me. Everything remainds me about her absence. I don't know if I can keep living like this, Maria."

"We have to." Maria walked over to Natasha and kneeled in front of her "This isn't any easier for me as well. I was her mom too. She was my baby just as much as she was yours. She was ours."

"She's our perfect baby girl." Natasha sniffed, unable to talk about you in the past "We weren't good people but she somehow managed to take that small part of goodness we had in us and turn herself into the sweetest girl this world has ever known."

"You're right." Maria smiled sadly "That's why we need to live. To remember her and to take her legacy forward."

"She didn't even get to know that mission was supposed to be our last." Natasha whimpered "We were going to retire for her. Just like she asked us so many times."

"I know..." Maria whispered

The couple looked into each other's eyes and only saw pain inside there.

Maria pulled Natasha into a hug and they both melted into that embrace.

That's what they have left.

Their love and support.

"I love her so much!" Natasha cried on Maria's shoulder

"I love her too." Maria cried as well "She's going to be with us forever in our hearts. I know she will be."

"We'll see you again, baby." Natasha whispered, secretly hoping that her daughter, from wherever she was right now, could hear her "If not in this life then in the afterlife or another lifetime. But we will meet again. I promise, sweetheart."

One thing is for sure.

You saved your mothers.

They’re alive.

But they wish they were dead.

They are alive only on the outside without you, but dead on the inside as a part of them died with you.

Life is unfair.

It gives you one thing only to brutally rip another one away from you.

And yet the question remains.

You call a child without parents an orphan, but what do you call a parent without their child?

Nothing.

Because there's no existing word in any language to be able to describe such pain.

[faejilly]

so, like a million years ago (aka over a year, time is a lie, shh, I refuse to double check exact dates) @awaylaughing prompted me for words! LOOK! WORDS!

Camellia (my destiny is in your hands) + Mass Effect (dealer's choice on all else) [OG prompt list]

This is, uh, perhaps more legacy than destiny, but it makes sense in my head. Hopefully it translates? Opening of ME2, F!Shepard, Joker, & Kaidan (with a little bit of Shenko for the tragedy of it all).

All Shepard could hear was her own breath, ragged and stuttering and too sharp in her throat.

For the first time in her life, she hated space, hated the bright lights that blinded her, the fact that the stars were too far away to matter, that her ship was exploding, her people were dying, the enemy was fleeing, its job done, the rest of them too small to matter, and she couldn't hear any of it.

Her heart beat so hard her ears throbbed in time, her breath too fast to match, too small, too shallow, yet she could still hear it beneath the whine of overlapping alarms. Her eyes burned with the flash of almost every alert possible simultaneously lighting up the edges of her vision, her HUD desperate to show her what she needed to know, desperate for her to fix it, help it, help them, fix them, fix everything, but still too dim to show clearly against the flares of lasers and oxygen burning burning burning.

Joker was swearing, the edge of pain clear in his voice, a hiss and a spark just audible beneath the rasp of his voice, and she was reasonably sure he'd just broken through a wall panel to access the system directly. As if he could refuse everything that had just happened, as if he could pilot an escape pod to come get her, as if his will was strong enough to turn around something without an engine or steering.

She almost laughed, felt it catch in her chest. If anyone could, it would be Joker.

“Shepard?” It was Alenko, his voice off-rhythm, unsteady, somehow both too fast and too slow, too low and too loud and yet so hard to hear over the silence around her. “Shepard, can you report? Status,” his voice caught, a swallow she could feel, could hear, “Shepard, please, damn it, Shepard.”

Her comms were still on.

Everyone could hear her breathing, Alenko had heard that almost laugh. Impossible though it seemed, that slight tremor of a breath wasn’t too faint for him, not with the way he always listened, always paid attention.

Especially to her, just as she’d always done the same for him.

She could hear Alenko’s breathing now, steady, let it steady her own, let herself pretend for just one inhale, one exhale, that there was something someone could do.

Something that Alenko could do, her Lieutenant, her XO, the best marine she’d ever worked with, that beautiful studied calm of his backing her up. He’d crossed every t, dotted every i, noticed every misstep around him, just so he could help someone take the next one and keep going…

He’d kept her going.

He’d keep them going.

He was the only one who could.

“Suit malfunction.”

Her voice sounded… normal.

Fucking N training.

She hated Anderson for a moment, almost as much as she hated space. Got her killed, the two of them, and trained her so well along the way that she couldn’t even panic about it, not when it would hurt someone else.

Kaidan.

She had to clench her jaw, close her eyes.

I’m sorry.

She opened her eyes.

“That final attack spread us all in different directions.” Her trajectory was almost exactly the opposite of Joker’s pod. Even if he could manage to steer the damn thing out of sheer fucking spite, he’d never be able to catch up.

Fucking physics. Newton was a bitch, and she’d tell him so herself when she met him.

Soon, now.

“Weaver,” Alenko’s voice was hollow in a way she’d never wanted to hear, especially not between the two of them, not when he was saying her name.

She just barely managed to mute her mic before she made a noise she couldn’t repress, rage and sorrow and cold, something that hurt her ears even more than the still whining alerts, something she couldn’t let him hear, not now, not like this, not as the last thing he’d ever–

She bit her tongue so hard she could taste copper and turned off the alerts so her mic wouldn’t pick them up, ignored the way the O2 sensor flashed as if it wanted to refuse her command.

“Get them home, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, ma’am.” His voice was solid this time, solemn, and she hated to think what it had cost him to put everything else away. “Understood.”

“Thank you, Kaidan,” she whispered. She thought she heard his breath again, just for an instant, something warm and alive and oh so far away, but then she cut her comm lines completely. She couldn’t bear to hear him say good-bye, would not allow him to hear what was going to happen next, what was already happening, the cold and the weight and the effort it took to inhale, the tremble in her arms, the battle she was about to lose to keep herself still, to stop herself from desperately scrabbling at the edges of her suit to try and find some way to fix everything that was broken.

Alenko would save as many of her people as could be saved, she had no doubts.

She just wasn’t one of them.

Good-bye, Kaidan.

[theroseceleste]

Mafia Miguel - Part 9

You can find previous chapters below.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Contains : Female reader, a little bit of fluff, and smut - breast play, oral sex

Word Count - 3526

Hope you enjoy part 9!

I might open up part 10 to suggestions, so please feel free to get in touch to let me know what you would like to see what happens next.

Also, liking, commenting, reblogging these posts are greatly appreciated. xx

----------

Sunlight peeks over the eastern horizon, splashing the sky with vivid pinks and oranges as it starts to rise on a new day.

Back in the limo again, you’re on your way to Miguel’s home. This time you’re sitting next to him.

He sits quietly and keeps his hands together over his lap, being careful not to accidentally catch his claws on anything.

Watching him carefully, you see his eyes slowly closing and opening again as his body threatens to fall asleep. He’s fighting it valiantly but it’s becoming a losing battle.

Exhaustion makes your limbs feel heavy but you suspect he’s feeling worse. The poor man likely feels battered and bruised to say the least.

You snake your hand around his arm. His eyes open again as you touch him but relaxes as he feels your head resting against his shoulder. Sleep draws nearer for the both of you.

A smile of contentment spreads across your lips. This is one of the first times you’re holding him with no guilt hanging over your head.

His words, ‘I need you” replays in your mind, giving you a sweet, comforting feeling; fueling that urge to sleep…

The car stops eventually outside Miguel’s home. Your head resting on his shoulder while his head rests on yours. You’re both totally in the land-of-nod.

You stir slightly as you hear the passenger door open and the chauffeur speaks to wake you both up.

“Hey. Wake up Miguel…” you whisper as softly as you wake first, doing your best not to startle him. Your hands gently shake him awake.

His tired eyes snap open; on high alert as he draws a sudden intake of air. But as soon as he feels you close by and sees the familiar interior of his limo, he relaxes again, sinking back into his seat.

After you get out of the car, you head into the building and summon the lift. Linking your arm with him as you wait.

Miguel waits quietly for the elevator looking shy and reserved. He’s dreading the moment Gabi claps eyes on him and sees her papa has changed. He looks down at you and gets your attention by nudging you.

“I think I’m going to need your help with this.”

The lift arrives. You give him a nod in response as you both walk together into the elevator. Pressing the penthouse floor, the doors close and you begin your ascent.

A ding rings out, announcing your arrival and the doors slide open. You escort a tremouring Miguel out and into the open plan, luxurious apartment.

Movement comes from the living area. A sleepy Gabriel and Gabi wake up from their couches and look over.

Gabriella immediately jumps up and bounds over to the two of you.

“Papa!”

Miguel immediately kneels down on the floor and outstretched his arms preparing to take her in his embrace but closes his eyes as he does so.

Gabriel follows soon after. He received a text from Lyla warning him about what happened at Alchemax. His eyes roaming over his older brother’s body, trying to spot the differences.

To your surprise, you hear sobbing. Not just from Gabi, but from Miguel too. Fatigue, and the entire ordeal will make most people emotional.

He cries into his daughter’s shoulder while his whole body shakes with each heart wrenching sob.

It’s clear Gabriella hasn’t heard her father cry very much or at all. She starts to pull away to look at him but you see Miguel pull her back to hide just a moment longer.

His hands delicately rub over his daughter’s back, being careful not to scratch her.

Just like the first day you met Miguel and Gabriella, you see before you an unbreakable bond between a father and his daughter. The tremendous display of love between them warms your heart.

You finally get to your knees and rest your hand on the girl's arm to get her attention. Your mind is racing to find the appropriate words to say.

“Like I promised, I brought your papa home,” you begin to explain but approach your next words carefully.

“But something happened to him that I couldn’t stop completely.”

Your hand squeezes her arm a little for reassurance.

“Your papa might look a little different, but he’s still the same on the inside. And together we’ll work it all out, okay?”

Gabi’s eyes wander from yours and return to her father. She pulls away again to try and get a good look at him.

Slowly, Miguel opens his eyes and looks deeply into his daughter’s. She lets out a shocked gasp as she takes in the new vermillion shade. Her much smaller hands caress her father’s face as she processes his differences.

The revealing of his claws and fangs did provoke tears of shock, but she puts on a brave face as she sees past it, just like you knew she would.

“I still love you papa.”

Her father wraps his arms around her again, relief takes a heavy weight from his shoulders. His hands clench to make sure he won’t hurt her.

“You’re so grown up mija.”

A small whimper escapes his lips as his emotions spike again.

“I don’t deserve such an angel like you as mi hija,” (my daughter)

A tear rolls down your cheek as you watch this special moment between father and daughter. A reunion Miguel thought he’d never get.

Looking up at his brother, you notice him also blinking faster while his eyes glisten.

***

Gabriel finally gets his niece off to bed while you do the same for Miguel.

He insists you join him, so you reduce yourself to wearing your bra and panties as you climb under the covers.

Snuggling up to you, he rests his head on your chest, burying his face into your breast to hide himself away from the world. His arms wrap around you holding you close.

Your hands rest on the back of his head as your fingers play with his beautiful tight curls. His body relaxes into you further.

Before too long, you’re both fast asleep, lost in each other’s embrace.

***

It’s early afternoon when you wake up again. Half of Miguel’s body rests on you, wrapping around you with his arms and a leg covers both of yours.

As you wake, you notice he feels heavier and perhaps… broader?

His head still rests on your chest. Looking down, you enjoy that peaceful look he has with his eyes closed. It’s impossible to resist caressing that face and kissing his forehead. You hear a soft groan as you do so. His arms tighten a little as he stirs.

You feel his hands press completely flat against your back. You flinch, expecting to be pricked by haw claws, but there’s nothing but soft fingertips.

Another groan emits from deep within him. His body tenses and stretches as he slowly wakes up from his slumber.

Then his eyes open wide. As he wakes, his tongue searches for the enlarged canines in his mouth, but they’re gone…

He sits up abruptly, tearing his cosy warmth away from you. A soft whimper leaves your lips as you feebly reach out for him again. You watch him press his fingers above his top lip, feeling for the oversized teeth.

That is when you discover that he has grown in his sleep. He was already tall, broad and muscular but now he’s even more so!

“Oh God!” you exclaim as you take in the sheer size of him.

Unfortunately for him, your sudden, unexpected outburst makes his claws extract from his fingertips and snag on his upper lip as he flinches.

“Ah fuck!” he yells as he covers the lower half of his face and looks back at you.

For a brief moment - before you said anything, Miguel was thinking perhaps it was all a horrible dream and that there was no mutation to worry about.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” you apologise, sitting up to join him.

Your hands take his gently, pulling them away so you can look at his lip. Just a scratch, nothing serious.

A look of disappointment dominates his face. The low feeling of realising his mutation is in fact reality hits him hard.

“My claws weren’t there a moment ago…” he murmurs, his tone full of sadness.

Turning his hands over, you inspect them more closely. They are indeed back, but you have been struck with an idea.

Laying back down you invite him to rest his head on your chest once again.

“What made you shout?” he asks as he lowers himself onto you, but he pauses as he takes in the sight of you. Your frame suddenly seems so much smaller in comparison to him.

You pull him down and make him lie on you like how he was before.

“Don’t freak out,” you hesitate, “but none of your clothes are going to fit you anymore.”

His body tenses again as his eyes open wide.

“What?!”

“I said, don’t freak out!”

“How can I not freak out?”

“Shh…” you hush him.

“I want to try something…”

Miguel’s body now almost completely covers yours as he does what you ask of him. You hold one of his large, warm hands against your chest, while you play with his hair.

As you do so, you feel him start to relax into you again. Allowing himself to sink further into the mattress and you. His body, becoming your new favourite warm blanket.

Your little experiment is working. His claws gradually retract into his pads the more he relaxes.

“Your talons go away when you’re calm and relaxed,” you observe with a smile, speaking just above a whisper.

His head shifts against your chest so he can look at his fingertips. He does feel a lot calmer than he did in Alchemax. The added sensation of you playing with his hair did feel relaxing for him. So long as he stays calm, the claws don’t appear to be a permanent feature. Maybe it’s the same for his fangs too?

“Interesting… at least they’re not out all the time I suppose.”

He nuzzles against your chest. The weight of his head squishes your breast, making it a nice comfy pillow for himself.

“So you’re saying I’ve grown?” Miguel eventually asks after a moment of silence.

“Don’t you feel bigger?”

“You look and feel smaller…”

“You should go see for yourself in a mirror.”

Reluctantly, he peels away from the comfort of your chest and gets out of bed, which feels lower down than he’s used to.

Come to think of it, his boxer briefs feel kind of tight around his hips and his legs too.

You watch in awe as he walks over to his en-suite. The guy is nearly seven feet tall!

“Holy shit!” You hear him yell, his voice echoing from the bathroom, making you giggle as you lay in his bed.

While wearing a stunned expression on his face, he comes back out of the ensuite and sits back down next to you.

“Told you…” you comment with a smile.

Reaching over for his phone, he begins to text his PA.

“I’ll have Lyla buy me some things for the time being. Then perhaps you and I can go shopping once I’m dressed sensibly?”

He asks you as he hits send on his phone. His ruby red eyes wander your semi naked form.

“You’ll let me come shopping with you?” you ask, feeling surprised.

“Am I completely forgiven then?”

Miguel’s larger, looming frame crawls along the bed towards you.

“You were forgiven after you said your speech about not wanting me to owe you anything, back in Alchemax.”

His voice sounds almost sultry and seductive.

On all fours, this man towers over you on the bed. He lowers himself down next to you and begins to kiss your neck.

“I really did want to stay mad, but I couldn’t…”

More tender kisses are planted along your neck as you moan softly.

“Not after everything you did for me and Gabi…”

“Miguel, is it wise to do this? It’s not been twenty-four hours yet,” you mumble quietly, trying to avoid moaning again.

You feel his warm lips and breath caress your sensitive skin.

“How could activities in the bedroom be affected by the mutation?” he asks as he moves you to unfasten your bra and remove it.

Now his lips find one of your breasts while his hand finds the other. Consciousness about his claws creeps in but you should be fine if nothing startles him.

“I don’t know - do you feel okay?” you ask before the pleasurable sensations overwhelm you.

His lips capture your hardened nipple and switches between licking and sucking, while his hand squeezes gently around your breast.

A muffled moan vibrates through your skin as he enjoys the fun he’s having. But eventually he pulls away to answer you.

“My lower arms feel a little sore, but that was probably from the restraints, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously. He could be right…

Miguel lets out a grunt of discomfort before grinding his hips against your leg. His hard-on is trapped inside, straining to be released.

“These boxer briefs need to come off… they’re too damn tight.”

He lays back on the bed and shifts his hands to the elastic around his narrow hips. The material of his underwear is taut across his body and upper thighs.

You help to pull them off. A large sigh of relief erupts from his parted lips as his hardened length springs free.

A hungry look crosses your face as an idea strikes you. Your eyes meet with his as you kneel next to him.

A burning desire to pleasure him takes over you, as you start to delicately run your fingers down his abs. Hearing his breathing hitch delights your ears. A wild throb of his cock reminds you what really wants your attention.

Biting your lip, as you lay between his legs and take his needy shaft in your hand, wrapping your fingers firmly around it as you watch him dissolve at your touch.

“Mhmmm…”

A warm hum vibrates from his broad chest as you stroke him up and down. You feel every twitch and every throb emanating from the hilt, up past your fingers and right to the tip.

“(Y/N)...”

His eyebrows almost knit together as pleasure engulfs his entire body. Watching you fist his length for him, makes his eyelids heavy with lust and desire.

As you touch him you can tell his mutation growth has affected every part of his body.

A bead of pre-cum forms at his slit as you continue to pump him. He feels smooth and hot under your fingers and you wish to give him more.

Miguel’s eyelids are heavy as he watches you draw nearer to his pulsing cock. His jaw drops at the sight of your mouth opening and the sensation of your tongue just teasing the head, tasting him.

Light breathy sighs fill the air as he relishes in your skill. Your tongue swirls around the sensitive tip while you stroke up and down on his hot smooth skin.

The taste of salt spreads across your tongue as you continue to lick and tease him with your lips. Your eyes lock onto his, hypnotised by the stunning red staring back at you.

The eye contact between you makes him melt briefly. The hunger in your expression as you give him head generates a large throb in your hands and against your mouth.

“(Y/N)!” he gasps out in ecstasy.

The pleasure is irresistible. You’re making him want more. He wants to trap you there so you can keep going. He fails to stop himself from wrapping his large muscular thighs around you. His calves cross over your back, pinning you in place.

An erotic moan rises from your throat and around his shaft as you sink lower onto him with your mouth. The heat from his legs wrapping around you drives you wild, making your ministrations more vigorous.

Gentle thrusts from his hips tells you he’s loving every second of everything you’re doing to him. Your focus remains on him as you begin to suck on him, triggering a chain reaction.

Miguel closes his eyes as his jaw drops. Quick and shallow breaths cause his exquisitely defined chest to rise and fall. His quivering breaths turn into grunts as you bring him close to the edge.

“Fuck, (Y/N). I’m going to cum if you keep that up.”

You moan at his words, the sound resonates through his wildly throbbing length. The sensation of your sucking becomes more intense.

His grip around your body with his legs tightens as you watch his hands rise to his face. The pleasure is becoming too much, he’s on the precipice.

“(Y/N)!~”

The mafia man’s back arches as a large pulse triggers a long series of shorter, faster bursts against your tongue. He cries out, coming undone and filling your mouth.

Miguel’s cries of pleasure suddenly turn into yelps of shock. Your eyes shoot up and widen when you look at him.

“What the fuck?!”

His voice cracks in a confusing mix of pleasure and shock as he looks up at his hands and wrists. Brows knitting together as fear sets in. 

Sharp claws protrude once again from his fingertips which isn’t so much of a surprise anymore. What does surprise you - and him, however, is that two long strings of silk have erupted from the top of his wrists and attached themselves to the wall behind the bed. Looking as though he’s restrained. If it wasn’t so unexpected, it might pass as a sexy scene from a pornographic video.

You release his softening cock from your mouth with a wet pop and his legs fall either side of you once more, allowing you to scramble up his body.

His ruby eyes are desperately wide and looking up at you as you reach his top half to investigate.

Sitting on his chest, you lean over to take a closer look at his arms and the substance that connects him to the wall.

It’s sticky to the touch. Trailing your fingers along it, you inspect the ends that are splayed wide against the wall plaster.

“What is it?” he asks as he tugs on it slightly.

“It looks like a bigger version of what spiders use when they make webs,” you reply pensively as you poke at the material.

Miguel gives an exasperated groan in response.

“Oh come on!”

It’s clear he’s fed up with the mutation. Every new change he experiences he becomes more resentful.

“Shhh…” you hush him as you lean back down to his face and caress his cheek.

He actually looks kind of cute, looking up at you with a worried expression and his arms raised above his head.

“It’s just another part of your mutation. Try to relax again, Miguel,” you suggest as you kiss his forehead and run your fingers through his hair.

Taking several deep breaths, he tries to relax by breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. You feel him tip his head back to get a better look at you.

“Come closer…”

With a warm smile, you lean down even further until you’re just an inch away from his handsome face.

He suddenly moves up. His chest and abdominal muscles flex underneath your butt as you remain sitting on him.

Warm, plump lips caress yours as he captures you in a tender kiss.

He deepens your affectionate moment by teasing your mouth with his tongue, tasting you, savouring you, revelling in you.

Your grip with your hands around his face and in his hair tightens as the kiss becomes more passionate.

Slowly, his claws begin to retract and the muscles in his arms relax.

You feel him try and sit up higher to reach you while his arms remain stuck. His lips move against yours, caressing softly.

“You have a talented mouth, (Y/N),” he mumbles between kisses fueled with a renewed sense of desire.

“It blew my mind.”

“It blew something else too…” you reply as your eyes dart up to his wrists and back down to his heavy lidded eyes.

A deep chuckle fills the air before he captures your lips again.

“It’s safe to say you managed to blow a few things, cariño.”

You smile against his lips, his sense of humour is coming back.

Finally, you feel the warmth of his arms wrap around you. His relaxed state releasing himself from the web-like material.

He rolls you, so your back is now on the bed and he’s on top. The inviting warmth he leaves behind on the duvet now presses against your skin. His new size totally dwarfs you. You can’t help but feel protected by him, but at the same time, you notice a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looks down upon you.

Hunger, desire, passion and a fresh wave of arousal flows through his veins. Something tells you that this will be intense, aggressive and oh so exquisitely good…

----------

I hope you enjoyed part 9! Sorry there was a bit of a delay. I had four commissions to write in the last two weeks and a funeral to attend.

I might open up part 10 to suggestions, so please feel free to get in touch to let me know what you would like to see what happens next.

I'm currently open for commissions. If you have a scenario you'd like to be written about your OC and our lovely Miguel, please check out my carrd.co or get in touch via email (also on the website)

[neteyuum]

promises

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

warning: mentions of guns/war, mentions of death, vomit if you squint, fix-it (ish?), neteyam lives au

w/c: 1.7k

notes: hey yall new account alert!!! happy to christen this blog with some sweet sweet neteyam fluff. yeah, he lives, cry about it mr cameron i am in your walls. ANYWAY please send any thoughts about avatar my way here! i am very happy to scream about them with you

currently have some more neteyam stuff in the works eheheh hope you enjoy this as i did xx

Your hands haven’t stopped shaking. 

Even after being hauled onto an ilu (by who you can’t be sure), stumbling your way onto the shore of Awa’atlu and falling to your knees, scrubbing the tacky blood from your palms. They tremble as you ball them into fists and retch the acrid taste of gunpowder that clings to your insides onto the sand. 

The waves wash it away. Within seconds, it’s like you were never there at all.

Someone calls your name. The sound rattles in your head and your eyes squeeze shut, willing the ground to stop spinning. A warm hand falls to your shoulder, firm and grounding.

“Hey,” the voice says. It’s Kiri, who comes to kneel beside your wavering form. Your eyes remain shut as she reaches for your hand, just holds it there. When you squeeze with all your might, she tightens her grip just as much. 

She needs this too. 

“He’s going to be okay.” She speaks softly, like the words can be carried off by the ocean breeze to Eywa herself.

You nod, but even with your eyes open, fixated on Kiri’s tired eyes, you see him. You see the pained grimace as he presses his hand to his chest, red spilling out between weakened fingers. You can’t shake the image of him gasping for air on the back of Tsireya’s ilu, body bowing over.

“Come back,” Kiri murmurs, noticing your unfocused eyes. You blink rapidly, falling back into your body and that’s when you notice the chaos of the village. The Metkayina people rush to nurse their wounded and the shouts of horror leaves a sour taste in your mouth, because without Kiri, you are sure your broken cries would be among them.

“Is he—” Your voice cracks.

Kiri looks over her shoulder at the Tsahik’s marui. “Norm and Max are with him. So is your mother. He is in good hands. Just…” She gives you a smile, small but genuine nonetheless, “give them time. ”

She sits with you until your breathing evens out and your fingers relax around hers. She beckons you to stand then, turning back to the village, to the healers spread thin. “Our help is needed. Will you join me?”

Anything to keep you busy; to give them time. 

—

It’s deep into the night when the last of the wounded have been tended to, when you wrap up your last injured warrior and are dismissed, urged to rest. 

The adrenaline has worn off. You’re running on fumes and your body feels like it’s being weighed down by the burlap sacks of sand. Still, your mind gives you no reprieve. With every slash and burn you’ve treated, your mind has reeled with how exactly you could treat a bullet wound. 

You need to see him.

You stumble out of the makeshift healer’s tent, breathing hard. The chaos has calmed, now the village is cocooned in a somber blanket. Candles line the walkways. The air is heavy with mourning.

Your feet carry you to the Tsahik’s marui. Each step amplifies the blood rushing in your ears, and your breathing hitches when a figure slips out from the tent flap. 

Lo’ak’s eyes meet yours and then you’re barrelling towards him. He catches you, stumbling under the force and his breathless chuckle lights a flicker of hope within your chest.

“Where is—”

Lo’ak answers before you can spit out the words that burn your tongue.

“He’s inside, with my mom and dad. He’s okay,” his voice wavers, from the wide grin or the tears welling in his eyes. 

“He’s okay,” you repeat in an exhale and you expect the relief to calm the pounding of your heart but it doesn’t. Now that you know he’s alive, you need to see him alive and breathing with your own eyes. You pull away to do just that, but Lo’ak catches you with a hesitant hand to your forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he says, bowing his head, “it was my fault he got hurt. He could have died and it was my fault. I am so, so sorry.”

Lo’ak looks so horrifically defeated, even with his revelation that has lifted the steel weighing on your shoulders, that you pull him into a hug. Your head shakes fiercely, as if that will dislodge those thoughts from his head for him.

“It was not your fault, Lo’ak,” you whisper, and your heart clenches when you feel his warm tears fall on your shoulder, “the blame lies with the Sky People and them alone. I am grateful for you, Lo’ak, that you were there to help him. I know Neteyam would say the same.”

The boy’s shoulder’s shake in silent sobs and distantly, you think that his hurt needs healing that can’t be brought with your medicines and herbs. 

“In fact, we should just let him say it himself.” You joke. Lo’ak’s mouth twitches into a smile, hands darting to wipe his tears hurriedly. He nudges his fist against your shoulder, every bit the Lo’ak you know.

“I think my sister wants to talk to you,” you offer him an exit, peering over his shoulder at Tsireya lingering at the far end of the walkway. She watches fondly, especially when Lo’ak’s cheeks flush a deep purple and his tail swishes nervously behind him.

He leaves with her and then it’s silent. With a deep breath, you lift the flap and slip into the marui. You nearly walk into Jake’s back in your haste, freezing at the threshold. 

He and Neytiri turn to face you, eyes brightening as you gesture your respect in a greeting.

“I’m sorry for intruding,” you breathe out, fighting the urge to crane your neck to catch even a glimpse of Neteyam, “I just- I needed to see him.”

Neytiri shares a look with Jake, who has an arm protectively around her shoulders. Their smiles are bracketed by tear tracks and you can feel the pure, unbridled happiness, relief radiating from them. 

“Mawey, sweet girl. He is resting.” 

They step to the side, and you finally see him. Your Neteyam. 

His chest, wrapped in layers of white gauze, rises and falls with each breath. He sleeps, peacefully, as if he wasn’t shot in the chest mere hours ago. 

Your hand comes up to your mouth, smothering the cry of relief that escapes against your best efforts to restrain it. You laugh, sheepish eyes darting to his parents who watch with knowing eyes. 

“I think it’s time we all get some rest, hm?” Jake says, tilting his chin towards his sleeping son – the empty spot beside him on the mat. He lifts the tent flap for Neytiri. She steps out with one last glance at her boy, and then at you, before she takes Jake’s hands in hers and the tent is plunged into silence.

You stand there, watching him breathe, for an inordinate amount of time. Then your brain kicks in, wraps around the fact that he is here, alive, right in front of you. You get to tease him, hold him, love him for another day. 

You’re by his side in the blink of an eye, legs folded to your side. Fingers gingerly trace the stripes down his forehead, smoothing over the brow ridge in reverence. His nose twitches and your hand withdraws. 

His eyes flutter open, blinking slowly as he adjusts to the low light of the marui. His gaze falls on you and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. He knows he shouldn’t, by the twitching of your eye. 

“I know what you’re going to say, my love– ” he begins but you don’t give him a fighting chance.

“Your skxawng ass is so lucky you’re injured right now,” you seethe, “what, in Eywa’s name, were you thinking, running into gunfire? Do you think you’re invincible, my mighty warrior?”

Neteyam looks at you with heavy, lidded eyes, probably from whatever Sky People medicine Norm had supplied. He’s got a lazy smile on his lips as he raises his hand to wipe away a tear on your cheek that you never even noticed you shed.

“You are so beautiful when you are angry at me,” he sighs, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. His smile widens when you lean into his touch, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“I am glad the Great Mother forgave your stupidity, so I can remind you of it every day from now,” you mutter, pressing a kiss to his palm. He hums.

“Me too.”

He seems content to keep watching you, fighting the clutches of sleep that pull at the edges of his consciousness. No, he’ll stay awake, if only to stare at you for just a moment longer.

He watches as your fingers tighten around his wrist, the other hand coming to rest on the uninjured side of his chest. You hesitate, breath catching in your throat. He waits, patiently, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I thought…” Your voice is a whisper, hoarse like the words are clawing their way out of your throat, eyes shut. “I thought I lost you.” 

His face falls, though you can’t see it. He imagines what you felt, what he would feel if you were in his place. A heaviness falls over him, and it seeps into his bones, cold and gray. If he ever lost you, he would tear his way to Eywa and bring you back himself, this he knows.

“Open your eyes, my love,” he urges, his voice deep and warm, freeing you from the grasps of a world without him in it. “Come here.”

Neteyam’s arms open for you, and slowly, too carefully, you settle against his good side. He whines when you maintain your distance, mindful of his wound. 

“I will not break, yawne, come closer.”

He tugs you into him, looping his arm around your waist and tucking your head under his chin. He’s glad you can’t see his pained wince. 

He breathes deeply and you know he’s letting you remind yourself of his sturdy presence beneath you.

“I will never leave you,” he says, the words rumbling under your ear. You lean back to meet his eyes. “I swear it.”

Your eyes search his own, only finding love boiling golden. He leans in close, hand cradling your jaw. Warmth runs through your veins as he speaks his promise into your lips.

You know it’s a big promise to keep, one he came close to breaking, but it’s what you need in this moment. For now, it is enough.

[still-with-koo]

Mission: Park Jimin | PJM

Series: Chapter Two

pairing: Jimin x reader; some Jungkook x reader and Taehyung x reader

summary: you come across a rather flimsy lead and set out with Jungkook to check it out. and come face to face with Jimin once again.

wc: ~3,500

genre/warnings/rating: 17+; angst; some fluff; enemies to still enemies, maybe frenemies; idiots to still idiots; friends to friendlier friends; swearing; references/allusion to violence; reader is in a life or death situation; mentions of death and dying; mentions of weapons and pistols; some (poor) attempts at humour; the characters in this story are my own and do not reflect on the members of bts or anyone else. this is all made up and just for fun, please don’t take it too seriously!

a/n: reposting from my old blog. you can find the original post and reviews here. chapter three is coming 👀

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

“Shhh, don’t say a word.”

Your whole body tenses as you feel a set of hands wrap around your waist. It takes you a few seconds to switch off high alert once you realize the voice belongs to Jungkook and not Park Jimin. After your encounter with Jimin in front of Mr. Kim’s gallery last week, you’re (understandably) a little jumpy.

You elbow Jungkook in the ribs and he yelps, doubling over in a theatric display. His form on the floor elicits a sigh from you, quite used to his antics by this point.

“That’s not funny, Jungkook. I almost went for my pistol.”

“You mean the one you gave to Park—?”Though his eyes are starting to water from pain (oops, you might have elbowed him a little harder than intended), he still manages to let a wise crack slip.

“I didn’t… you know what, never mind,” you groan, rolling your eyes as you walk past him, accidentally letting your knee connect with his side.

“Ugh, I’m on my knees here,” he grumbles, and then quietly adds when he notices you’re out of earshot, “I guess only Park gets your mercy…”

Agent Kelson’s assistant, Nia hears Jungkook and giggles, earning a small wink from him as he slowly pushes himself off the ground.

Your half eaten sandwich looks mysteriously smaller but you take another bite anyways, plopping down into your desk, elbows down as your eyes scan the case file spread out over your desk, careful not to let the mayonnaise drip onto your organized chaos.

Jungkook saunters over as if nothing happened, pulling over a chair and flipping it backwards to sit across from you with his arms folded over the back of it.

“He’s been spotted near the central bank again,” Jungkook notes, watching you lick some mayonnaise off your finger, eyes flickering for a split second before letting them fall to your desk.

“Hmm, I heard that too. But it’s hard to believe those reports since no one has ever seen his face. Didn’t even leave his calling card.”

“True, but the body, the build, the mannerisms. They seem to match up with that video of him going into Gyu Gallery. He has a way about him that’s one of a kind.”

“Fair,” you sigh, tracing the photo in front of you with your fingertip, “but nothing was stolen. The witness just said he was near the bank, that’s all.”

“Maybe he was scoping out the place?”

“Plausible,” you hum thoughtfully, and take another bite of your sandwich. Jungkook watches in horror as you continue through mouthfuls, “But he isn’t going for a money heist. Pretty sure his next hit is another gallery,” you sigh, wiping your mouth but eyes never leaving the photo you keep coming back to, the one with a very young Jimin standing next to a tall, slightly terrifying looking man. Something about the photo feels off. It’s probably inconsequential but you can’t help but stare.

“Why the bank, then? It’s not like he’s going to take out a savings plan or something,” Jungkook grins, fully expecting you to laugh. But it doesn’t come.

Your eyes are glued to the top half of the photo. There’s something oddly familiar about the mess of trees behind the two mismatched people, a long spherical structure sticking out in between the trees, so daunting in the backdrop that it taunts you with a vague memory. That exact location, the clearing, the unexpected forget me nots poking out from beside the bushes… it’s very reminiscent of a place you used to visit quite often.

“I feel like I’m talking to myself over here,” Jungkook sighs, resting his head on his arms as he stares at you.

“Hmm?” Your head swivels up and you meet Jungkook’s eyes. There’s a glaze to your eyes that he wasn’t expecting.

“What—?”

“I think there might be a link between the central bank and this photo… maybe. I need to check it out. Wanna come?”

He grabs the sandwich you had set down and scarfs it down as you fixate on the photo, tracing your fingertip across the very edge of the photo.

“Ready?”

You nod and quickly drop your file into your bag, grabbing your jacket before eyeing the empty spot where your sandwich had sat moments ago. Jungkook fixes you with a faux innocent stare that would make Bambi jealous, his eyes still on you as he carefully wipes away a spot of mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth, a tiny grin daring to peek out in between.

If you weren’t in such a hurry, you might have said something, maybe poked fun at him, or better yet guilted him into buying you another sandwich. Maybe dinner. But instead you wordlessly give him a raised brow and then throw on your jacket, quickly cutting across the floor before you hear your name, a gruff shout that bounces off the walls.

“Where are you going?”

It’s Agent Kelson. And only he can make an innocuous statement like that feel like verbal assault. You feel the sting of his words against your face.

“Uh, Jungkook and I are going to check out a thread on the Park file. Won’t take long.”

He stands there contemplating both of you before raising his hand towards you, a silent “come here” as he gestures his fingers towards himself.

You acquiesce, shuffling towards him.

“I thought I told you to take Minwoo and Nate with you?”

Again? Although you never minded before, his request doesn’t sit well with you this time.

“But Park isn’t going to be there. We really don’t need back up to scope out a possible lead,” you counter angrily, before adding “Sir” with a forced smile.

“They’re going with you, whether you like it or not,” he demands, and looking behind you, he yells out, “Hey, Nate, Minwoo, go with Y/N and Jungkook.” Looking back at you, his lips stretch into a shape reminiscent of the Grinch, “Now you may go.”

“But, sir,” you urge through gritted teeth, “I think you should reconsider”. He simply tuts you away, hands on his hip and jaw set.

You can feel yourself getting warm. Ever since your encounter with Jimin, you’ve been on edge. His words still dance along the very recesses of your mind.

You’re far too trusting. Especially of your supervisor, Agent Kelson.

Be careful, because your next mission will have you caught in the crossfire.

Jungkook elbows you, a signal that you’re overstepping. Noticing your jaw clench, he clears his throat and steps in, his forced giggle a little grating under the circumstances, “Aw let them come, Y/N. I wanna know how they both managed to get tied up side by side, fully armed, behind the garbage cans. Didn’t Park only have a knife?” He starts cackling but you just groan, staring at Agent Kelson. He isn’t going to change his mind.

You turn away with a huff and spot Minwoo and Nate leaving the premises. Hanging back, you whisper only loud enough for Jungkook to hear, “We need to lose them.” Although he looks a bit startled, he quickly nods, his hand falling to your lower back urging you ahead of him.

“Just there, Nate,” you point towards a parking spot off the corner of the central bank. “We need to spread out to see if we can find any clues before meeting back here in an hour. Deal?” You hold out your hand to Minwoo in the front seat as Nate eyes you through the rearview mirror.

Minwoo turns around, but instead of shaking your hand, he bypasses you and looks at Jungkook, who just shrugs his shoulders, the beginnings of a grin dancing on his face. You elbow Jungkook, and he nods quickly, adding “That sounds like a perfect plan. Should Nate and I take the south and you two take the east?”

Your lips pull into a straight line, your eyes burning a hole in Jungkook’s. “I was thinking,” you start through gritted teeth, “that you would come with me, Jungkook. And Minwoo and Nate can take the eastern entrance.”

“I like Jungkook’s idea better, Y/N. Come with me and we can go around the back together,” Minwoo notes, grabbing your still extended hand to shake it roughly. Nate’s smirk catches your eye in the mirror before he looks ahead to slide into a parking spot.

You squeeze Minwoo’s hand hard, too hard, and he grimaces before pulling it away.

“I set a punishing pace, Minwoo.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and Minwoo gulps. “I grew up near here and know the area pretty well. Actually, I used to play fort up that hill,” you note, pointing behind the central bank. “It’s much higher than it seems. I know your leg is still sore from… your run-in with Park.”

You hear Jungkook snicker, a quiet “Run in? More like he laid down for him,” coming from Jungkook but you ignore it, forging ahead with Minwoo.

“I won’t go easy on you. Do you really want to trek up there with me?” You lean in close to Minwoo, your eyes sparkling. He swallows again and turns to Nate.

“Nate, do you want to go with Y/N instead?”

But Nate is no longer paying attention, his eyes on a pretty girl in a suit walking towards the building.

“I think I’ll take the main entrance for now. Might be useful to ask the tellers if they’ve seen anything suspicious,” Nate murmurs, eyes never leaving the girl. You turn to Jungkook with a jerk of your head.

“What’s with him?”

Minwoo just groans, “I thought you were over her. Nate? Nate?”

When Nate shows no reaction, Minwoo reaches over and shakes him. But it’s no use. Minwoo’s hand slowly slips from his shoulder as Nate unbuckles his belt and steps out, and within moments he’s already halfway to the front entrance.

“Ok, fine,” Minwoo grunts, “you two go around the back, and Nate and I will check out the interior.”

You can’t help the smile making its way onto your face, now partially hidden by your hand, as you give him an enthusiastic nod. “Sounds good. An hour, ok?”

“Why are we doing this again?”

Jungkook is trailing behind you, carrying your bag as you take photos of the path leading up the hill behind the bank.

“That photo, you know the one I was looking at,” you mutter, and look behind to see Jungkook staring at you. Actually, he was staring at your ass.

“Were you just…” You blurt out, eyes round in amazement.

“What,” he mumbles out, a lopsided grin creasing his cheeks as he bites his lip. “There’s not much else worth looking at up here.”

“Hmm,” you ponder, bringing your camera to your face, “I must say, Jungkook, in this light you look kinda…” The rest of your words die on your tongue as your attention shifts to the man before you, a quiet shutter sound evidence that you indeed snapped a picture of him.

Panic sets in as Jungkook imagines what your next words might have been.

“I mean…it’s just…” Jungkook stutters, his smile growing as he brings his hands to his ears, trying to hide the pink that’s starting to bloom along the tips. It’s obvious he’s a bit flustered by the insinuation as you’ve never shown any real romantic interest in him before.

“Get a grip, Jungkook. You just looked… so goofy. I might want a copy of it actually,” you smile, noticing his face contort into a pout.

“Kinda wish I brought a camera too.”

“Why? Do I look beautiful in this light,” you ask haughtily, flicking your hair as you meet his eyes with a smirk.

“Actually, I was enjoying the view far more before you turned around.”

You groan, hands coming to your hips, and at the sight his smile twists into a smirk.

You open your mouth, hoping for a witty quip to fluster him again— you quite enjoy doing that —but none comes. So you turn back around, starting on your trek again, carelessly throwing out an order to Jungkook, oblivious to the way his eyes widen at your words.

“Keep your eyes on the trail, Jungkook. You can stare at my ass all you want once we’re done.”

Once he regains composure, he whispers quietly to himself, half hoping you hear him.

“Damn. Then at least stop swaying like that.”

After several minutes of silence, you’re pulled roughly into Jungkook as his hand wraps around your mouth. “I think I saw someone,” he whispers into your ear, and you follow his line of sight to see a flash of black disappear behind a tree.

You push him away and point two fingers to the corner furthest from the tree. He nods and you duck down to take the other side. You feel for your pistol and hold it in your grasp as you continue to skulk towards the edge, meeting Jungkook’s eyes momentarily before he disappears behind the bushes.

As you continue parallel to the black flash, you notice another flash a few metres ahead and you break into a sprint to catch up to it.

It’s Park Jimin. You’re sure of it.

Your boots hit the dirt in quick succession, your chest constricting for the briefest moment before exhilaration takes over. The chase. The adrenaline. This is why you got into this line of work.

You spot the hint of black disappear behind another tree and you chase after it, careful not to trip over the rocks scattered across the ground. You notice a clearing up ahead and make a mad dash for it. The trees are more sparse here and suddenly you realize this might be the place you saw. The one in the photo. With young Jimin and the scary looking man.

Temporarily distracted by that thought, the edge comes faster than you expect and suddenly you’re skidding to a stop — but it’s too late. Your boots catch on a rock and you trip, toppling over and barely catching a branch as you slam against the cliff’s edge, your body dangling off the ledge. The cliff’s edge. How did you forget this was here?

You’re lucky a stray root branch at the edge caught your attention in the split second of your free fall, but now you’re hanging off the edge with that branch as the sole source of your salvation. Your other hand grasps the dirt floor, only barely providing enough leverage to balance your weight.

Shit. One wrong move and it’s all over.

You risk glancing down and immediately regret it, the dizzying height bringing a lump to your throat. You’re dangling about a hundred metres from the ground — and fear strikes your chest as you process your predicament.

You attempt to kick up but it only serves to loosen your grip, not that you have much of a hold in the first place. There are no proper hand holds or even a small ledge in sight — it will be a straight drop if you fall.

You take a deep breath and consider your options. There’s only one.

“Jungkook! Help! Jungkook!”

Your hand slips and you cry out again, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Please… Don’t let me die…,” you lament, watching your knuckles flex with the effort of trying to hold on. Any other position and you could have pulled yourself up. But at this angle, your best attempts could bring your downfall.

Not one to give up easily, you still attempt to pull yourself up, but soon you notice the branch starting to stretch, on the way to being uprooted.

Worse still, your knuckles flex under the pressure, a warning signal that they will give out soon.

You don’t have much time.

“Someone please help me! Ahhh! Help!”

You keep your eyes on the edge and suddenly a vision comes to mind. Of a little boy, reaching down for you.

“I think we should go back now, Y/N.”

The blur fades but you still see the very tips of fingers floating towards you, disembodied but very much solid. You shake your head and try to regain composure, certain that you’re losing your mind out of fear.

But the hand remains. This time, accompanied by a voice.

“Take my hand!”

It may be nothing more than a grunt but the sound is very real.

You reach towards the hand that’s stretching out to meet yours, realizing Jungkook must have heard your cries.

You barely make contact but it’s enough. As he gets a proper grip, he pulls you up with one swift motion, so forceful that the momentum causes you to topple over him, your face crashing into his chest.

At contact, you immediately bury your face into his solid body, trembling in his embrace, your hands curling around the fabric of his shirt.

“Fuck, I’m so happy you’re here,” you sigh against his chest and feel his hand tangle in your hair, followed by soothing strokes obviously intended to calm you down.

“You’re safe now, Agent.”

That’s not Jungkook’s voice.

You raise your head slowly but he shoves you aside and rolls over, crouching a few feet from you, leaving you propped on your elbow staring at the back of the man who saved your life.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Agent. I won’t save you next time.”

“Park Jimin—?”

Before he can answer you hear shouts from your right.

“Y/N! Y/N! I’m coming!”

Jungkook stops short at the sight of you, hands on his knees, panting as he tries to catch his breath. And to your surprise, Taehyung comes up around him, steps slow and hesitant until his eyes land on you in a heap on the ground. He run towards you immediately, his bottle falling aside as he cups your face in his hands.

“What happened?”

Sudden realization dawns on you as your eyes snap to the left.

But he’s gone.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook crouches beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your eyes.

“We heard your cries right after Jungkook and I ran into each other on the hiking trail,” Taehyung adds, grabbing your hands and leaning in closer to examine you. “You’re trembling, Y/N. Did something happen?” Taehyung asks, trying to catch your eye.

You push Taehyung and Jungkook away, rising to your feet and dazedly walking in the direction of Jimin’s afterimage. It was him. But why? Why would he save you when you’re standing between him and freedom.

Suddenly you feel the ghost of his hands on your body and it sends a wave of shivers through you. That’s weird. Is it because you thought those were Jungkook’s hands at the time… or because you now realize they were his?

Taehyung grabs your hand and spins you around, cupping your face again, his eyes gazing deeply into yours, seemingly searching for something. “Are you alright, Y/N? You look really shaken up.”

“I-It was Park Jimin…”

Jungkook jumps to his feet, walking past you before turning back, anger flickering in his eyes. “That asshole again? Did he hurt you, Y/N? I’ll make him pay,” he grunts but you manage to grab his sleeve.

“Never mind, Jungkook. Let’s go back to the station,” you whisper, pulling him closer to you, “He must be long gone by now.”

In your heart you know he’s probably not far but you can’t bring yourself to chase after him, at least not alongside Jungkook.

Jungkook looks unconvinced but his eyes never leave you, his hand falling to your lower back as he continues to examine you. However, you don’t give him much time as you turn back to Taehyung. “I hope we didn’t startle you, Taehyung. Just a regular day for us agents,” you force a smile, grabbing onto Jungkook even tighter when you realize your hands are still shaking. “Enjoy your hike. And say hi to your dad for me.”

At Taehyung’s hesitant nod, you push Jungkook ahead of you and both of you make your way back to the car. When you get there, Nate and Minwoo are already there, waiting for you.

You came face to face with Park Jimin again, and once again he slipped through your fingers. But you’re not mad this time.

You’re just grateful you didn’t slip through his fingers.

What you don’t realize is that you didn’t slip his attention either.

Hidden from view, Jimin watches you and Jungkook make your way to your car, the one that already contains the two others. The ones he has been watching. But this other guy, the tall one with the slim build and tattoo sleeve… he’s new, at least to Jimin.

“Do you think she’s figured it out, yet?” Jimin turns back to his companion and shakes his head solemnly.

“I don’t think so. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been so surprised to see me. No, she doesn’t know yet. But she’s a smart one. I trust she will figure it out,” Jimin mutters, pulling on his leather gloves.

His attention returns to you and he watches as you walk around the car absentmindedly, completely oblivious to Jungkook holding a door open for you. Your mind is clearly somewhere else.

“She’ll know soon enough either way.”