#right Freight Elevator

[marvelstan0905]

"I really need someone"

Kenji Sato X [afab]reader (One Shot)

Best Friend AU

TW : Emi cameo/ screaming/ fainting/ swearing/ panicking/ fluffy/ slight angst/ petnames/ slight flirting/crude teasing/ mixed POV

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

The man had not been answering my calls and texts. I get it. He's busy..baseball and his own personal problems got him occupied but he was my best friend and he always..as in ALWAYS texted or notified me if he couldn't answer his phone. It had been days. Not even Mina was responding. I couldn't even get a chance to see him at his games because he left as quickly as he came. I decided to take things into my own hands.

I unlocked the door to Kenji's house and got inside. I thanked God he gave me the key and code to his house. I peeped inside his room and bathroom "Kenji?" I called out worried. I went to the kitchen and saw parenting books, spilled coffee and energy drink cans sprawled out on the table. I was confused however by the books.."What the?" I whispered with furrowed brows. My train of thought was stopped as I felt a rumble from downstairs.

I stopped moving and turned to the elevator that led to the basement. This was probably the only place Kenji didn't allow me to go in his house when I came over..but I mean..I am concerned for him. What if he's dead? Or hurt downstairs..I shook my head erasing any bad or irrational thoughts.

"Kenji..please forgive me" I whispered before getting into the elevator. As I pressed the button to the basement..I noticed that not even Mina had greeted at me at the door. Surely her systems couldn't be down. The elevator descended and I stepped out. I looked up and I was met with the most shocking sight..Ultraman holding a pink colored kaiju. Mina was off to the side playing some kid's cartoon. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened. That's when Ultraman noticed me and looked down at me.

"Oh my god! Y/N! W-What are you doing here? Mina!" Ultraman stammered quickly and put the kaiju baby into a containment unit. The kaiju didn't seem to fall asleep as she clawed at the walls of the unit. Ultraman's hand reached over and I screamed in ultimate terror. I stumbled to the elevator but didn't even manage a step as black spots clouded my vision and I passed out. Kenji was quick to transform back into his human self and caught his best friend.

"Kenji, it appears Y/N has entered the house" Mina reported. Kenji looked at Mina exasperated.

"No shit! Oh my god! Shit. How the hell am I gonna explain this?" Kenji murmured whiles gently patting his best friend's cheeks to wake her up.

"You could be honest because she's already seen Emi and Ultraman...in your basement" Mina responded whiles hovering over to Emi's containment unit and showing her games of Kenji's to keep her occupied. Kenji picked up his best friend and laid her on the couch. Kicking the drawer underneath his couch, Kenji grabbed a cool can of coconut water and pressed it against the cheek of his best friend. About 10 minutes passed before I fluttered my eyes open and groaned.

"Is this heaven?" I murmured as Kenji glanced down at me and sighed in relief. I blinked trying to adjust to the light.

"No, sweetcheeks..this hell." Kenji chuckled softly. I sighed and sat up rubbing my temples.

"Of course if you're here" I quipped. Kenji clicked his tongue and handed me a bottle of water. I looked around and my eyes widened when I saw a kaiju in a containment unit. I dropped the bottle"K-Kaiju.." I whispered fearfully as the memories from before I passed hit me like a freight train. Heavy and loaded.

"Calm down. Wait..let me explain okay? Just give me a few minutes" Kenji said softly whiles standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. His blue mauve eyes held desperation. I looked from him to the containment unit. I nodded. I took a good look at him, he had deep eye bags and he looked disheveled as if he hadn't slept in days. Kenji took a deep breath to calm his nerves before taking ahold of my hands.

"I am Ultraman. That Kaiju you saw over there is Emi. She's an infant kaiju. I found her when the KDF killed her mom, okay? I have to take care of her. I'm the only hope she has. This is why I haven't been answering my phone. I've been juggling alot. More than I can handle. I thought I could do it.."Kenji trailed off, rambling a little and a few tears fell down his cheeks. My eyes widened, I've never seen Kenji cry...let alone be deeply vulnerable like this. I put aside my shock as I gently squeezed his hands and wiped his cheeks softly. "I-I know it's alot to take in..I totally get it if you don't wanna be friends anymore...because you know this is alot"

I took a deep breath to properly take a second to process this. I gave Kenji a hug, considering he really needed one. "I'm not gonna leave. You might be an asshole but you're my asshole" I spoke softly. Kenji pinched me but hugged me tighter. "We..uh..still have alot to talk about but I'll help you out, dummy. You should've called me. You know..You're not an island"

"You know you're really mean when you're trying to console me but I appreciate it. T-Thank you..I promise I'll answer everything." Kenji murmured whiles hiding his head into my chest.

"You better, you owe a half dozen lunch dates. You're real shameless you know..those are my boobs" I whispered whiles hugging him and gently petting his head. Kenji pinched me again. I looked at the kaiju baby in the containment unit. Taking a good look at her..she seemed friendly and she was actually adorable.

"J-Just let me enjoy some peace" Kenji groaned "Thanks, sweetcheeks. It means alot though. I..I really need someone right now"

"I'll be your someone"

[jiuwaves]

Screams, Thrills, and You

❦ pairing ; choi seunghyun x reader 

❦ warnings ; none! entirely fluff! c:

You had one rule. One personal boundary that, until today, had gone unchallenged: Absolutely no amusement park rides.

But then again, no one said dating Seunghyun would be easy on your comfort zone.

He had begged you. Like, actually dropped to his knees in the middle of your apartment, hands clasped dramatically like he was praying to the gods of thrill-seeking.

“Jagi..” he whined, dragging out the syllable like a lovesick teenager. “Do you want me to die without ever experiencing joy with the love of my life on a rollercoaster?

You stared at him from the couch, arms crossed.

He shuffled closer on his knees, still in full performance mode. “Please, Pleaase..? Just once. Just one date. I’ll do anything!’’

You tried to hold firm. You really did but then he pouted, that ridiculous, unfairly adorable pout  and rested his head against your thigh like a wounded puppy and that was it. 

You sighed dramatically.

“Fine. One day. One park but I’m not going on anything that looks like it was designed by a mad scientist.’’

He shot up so fast he nearly headbutted you. “I love you.”

“I better not die..” you muttered, already regretting everything.

In fact, you did regret your decision.

Because as soon as you stepped through the gates of the amusement park, hand-in-hand with Seunghyun, reality hit you like a freight train on fire. Your smile twitched, faltered because the rides? They looked insane.

There were loops on top of loops, rides that swung like wrecking balls, and one that literally shot people straight up into the sky before dropping them back down like the world’s worst elevator.

“What the hell is that?!” you gasped, pointing at a ride that looked like it had been built in defiance of gravity and common sense.

Seunghyun turned to look and beamed. “That? That’s Sky Plunge! It spins while it drops while it drops!”

“Why?” you whispered, eyes wide. “Who hurt the person who designed that?”

But Seunghyun didn’t hear you or maybe he did and just chose to ignore it because he was already tugging you forward, eyes darting from one attraction to the next like he couldn’t decide which death machine to get on first.

“Come!” Seunghyun said, practically dragging you by the hand towards the ride, his excitement radiating off of him like a blast of energy.

You stumbled slightly, your legs moving but your heart was still firmly planted in ‘nope’ territory.

“Wait—WAIT!” you gasped, trying to plant your feet, but Seunghyun was relentless, already pulling you toward the massive contraption in front of you.

It looked like a twisted version of a Ferris wheel except this one was vertical, and there were people in it, upside down. You tried to imagine how that would feel. 

You couldn’t. 

Your stomach twisted into a tight knot. You should have known, but you weren’t prepared for this level of evil.

“What even is this?” you asked weakly, though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. “This doesn’t look like a ride. It looks like something you’d see on a horror movie set.”

“It’ll turn you upside down and sideways. It’s legendary.” he said with far too much excitement, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I don’t want to be legendary! I want to stay alive!” You almost pleaded, your hand tightening in his, pulling back slightly.

But Seunghyun was persistent, his grip firm, his face shining with a joy that was honestly hard to deny. You glanced at the towering contraption again and your brain just about shut down. 

“How do you enjoy this?” you muttered, half to yourself, but Seunghyun leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“Because I get to be with you” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

Your heart skipped a beat. He always knew how to say just the right thing, didn’t he? You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes that soft, genuine affection made it so much harder to back out.

“Okay..” you said finally, exhaling like you were signing your own death warrant. “One ride but if I pass out, I’m blaming you.”

Seunghyun smiled and pulled you toward the ride, that cheeky grin lighting up his face. “Deal. I’ve got you and if you pass out, I’ll carry you the whole way home.”

You let out a nervous laugh, but despite the terror knotting in your stomach, you couldn’t help but smile a little as you both got strapped into the ride.

The harness clicked into place, but it didn’t provide nearly enough comfort for your rapidly pounding heart. You swallowed hard, feeling the adrenaline rush through you, not in a fun way, but in a please, make this stop kind of way.

Seunghyun, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement, his eyes wide, a grin stretching across his face. He leaned over, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Jagi you’re gonna love this. It’s all about the thrill”

You forced a smile, but it was shaky at best and then, before you could even process, the ride lurched forward. The ground beneath your feet vanished, and your stomach made a sudden, violent lurch as the ride shot up like a rocket.

You immediately squeezed your eyes shut, one hand gripping down to the safety bar and the other on Seunghyun’s arm like your life depended on it. (It probably did.)

“Oh my God!” you screamed, but the wind was so loud you barely heard your own voice. 

You were launched straight up, feeling the blood rush to your head, and before you could even process it, the ride twisted and flipped upside down, sideways, every direction at once.

Seunghyun was beside you, laughing uncontrollably, his voice swallowed by the wind. 

“This is amazing!” He shouted, looking over at you, but you were in no condition to look back.

“I’m going to die!” you shouted, unable to stop yourself.

“No, you’re not!” Seunghyun yelled back, eyes sparkling even as you both swung upside down. “This is the best part!”

The ride flipped once more, and you held your breath, your hand clenching tighter around the bar as your body was thrown this way and that. You were so sure you were about to fly off the track, but just as quickly, the ride began to slow down, and the ground began to come back into view.

Once the ride came to a complete stop, you were left blinking, trying to catch your breath, eyes wide as you tried to ground yourself in reality.

You stepped off the ride like a newborn deer. Your legs wobbled beneath you, moving in completely different directions, and your vision spun like the ride was still going.

“I’m never doing that again..” you mumbled, arms flailing slightly as you tried to walk in a straight line and failed miserably.

You stumbled left. Then right. Then kind of… diagonally? Your limbs didn’t feel like they belonged to you anymore.

Seunghyun, of course, was thriving. Practically glowing. His hair was wind-tossed, cheeks flushed, smile wide. He looked like he’d just had the time of his life instead of being nearly flung into the stratosphere.

“Jagi” he said, trying not to laugh as you zig-zagged like a malfunctioning Roomba. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because you were busy spinning in a slow, disoriented circle, trying to figure out where the ground went.

“Oh no” Seunghyun muttered through a chuckle.

You took another shaky step, accidentally veering off to the side and straight into danger of walking into a trash can and that’s when Seunghyun stepped in, hands reaching out quickly to steady you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into his chest, grounding you instantly.

You froze, still swaying slightly, your face buried against his hoodie.

“You’re walking like a drunken toddler” he whispered, clearly trying not to laugh. “A cute one, though.”

“I’m dizzy..” you mumbled into his chest, holding onto his hoodie like it was the only thing tethering you to earth.

“I noticed” he said with a smirk, his hands not leaving your waist, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. “You spun yourself more after the ride than the ride itself.”

You sighed dramatically the kind of sigh that carried the weight of love, regret, and a faint prayer to survive the rest of the day.

“We aren’t done though!”

You blinked. “...What?”

Before you could even take another step in the direction of sanity, he had dragged you in his arms  towards a rollercoaster that looked like it was designed by someone with a personal vendetta against gravity. The track had at least three full loops, a corkscrew, and one drop that looked illegal.

You stared at it in horror. “That’s not a ride. That’s a cry for help.”

Seunghyun laughed, not even slowing down. “It’s called The Inferno Loop. Sounds fun, right?”

“No! It sounds like a warning!”

“Too late!” he said, kissing the side of your head as if that would somehow erase the dread bubbling in your chest. “You're already in line. Technically.”

You looked around. He was right. Somehow, probably thanks to your state of stunned shock you were already at the entrance, ride signs flashing red and orange like a portal to hell.

“I hate you..” you mumbled again, gripping him tighter.

He looked down at you with that boyish grin. “You say that, but you’re still in my arms. Doesn’t seem very hateful.”

You groaned. He’s lucky he is cute. 

He kissed your forehead gently, a quick press of warmth and affection before pulling you with him into the next circle of hell otherwise known as the rollercoaster loading area. The seats looked sleek and deadly. Like futuristic torture devices. You eyed them with deep suspicion as Seunghyun practically skipped toward the front row like he was boarding a first-class flight.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this again..” you muttered as you slowly, reluctantly took your seat beside him.

The staff moved quickly, lowering the thick safety bars over your shoulders. It locked in with a solid click, a sound that sealed your fate.

You stared at the bar, then at Seunghyun, who was already beaming like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“This is gonna be insane!” he said, gripping his own harness with excitement.

You didn’t respond. You just blinked at him.

Seunghyun looked over at you, his grin practically stretching ear to ear, the wind already rushing past as the ride climbed higher.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely n—!” you started to scream, but the words barely made it out before the ride launched forward with a jolt that ripped the breath right from your lungs.

Your scream got swallowed by the wind, your whole body yanked back into the seat as the rollercoaster plummeted down the first insane drop. The track curved into a massive loop and your brain short-circuited. Gravity didn’t exist anymore. Neither did your sense of self-preservation.

Meanwhile, Seunghyun?

He was Laughing.

Not just laughing, full-on cackling, hands thrown in the air like this was a casual joyride and not a near-death experience. His eyes flicked to you between the loops, your hair flying in every direction, face frozen in terror.

“You’re doing great!” he shouted over the wind.

You could only scream in response, your voice cracking as the coaster twisted through a sideways corkscrew, your stomach left behind somewhere three loops ago.

By the time the ride finally came to a screeching halt, you felt like you had just been through a tornado, a war, and an exorcism all at once.

Your voice was hoarse from screaming your lungs out, your hands were still clamped tightly around the safety bar like it owed you rent, and your heart was thundering like you’d just run a full marathon. 

Twice.

You tried to stand, really, you did but the second you unbuckled the harness and attempted to step out, your legs wobbled beneath you like they were made of overcooked noodles. Then you clutched the side of the ride’s seat, trying to stay upright with your entire body shaking like you’d just been through a natural disaster. 

Seunghyun stepped off the ride effortlessly, already bouncing on the balls of his feet, still riding the high of adrenaline. He turned around to help you and paused.

“Oh jagi…” he said, eyes wide with poorly hidden amusement as he saw you swaying in place, arms stretched like a baby deer trying to walk on an ice rink.

“I don’t think I can walk” you mumbled, trying to shift your weight and immediately regretting it.

Without another word, Seunghyun stepped forward, slid his arms under your legs and behind your back, and just lifted you. You gasped, flailing slightly as he cradled you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“Shhh” he said dramatically.

“You’ve been through enough. Let me carry my brave little warrior princess.”

You buried your face in his hoodie in sheer exhaustion and embarrassment.

“..Stop calling me that”

“You faced death for me. Screamed like a banshee. Almost passed out.” he grinned, starting to walk away from the ride platform with you in his arms.

People were definitely looking, but Seunghyun didn’t care. In fact, he looked proud of the whole situation.

“Don’t worry” he added, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll recover. I’ll feed you snacks, get you a plushie, and tell you how hot you looked screaming.”

“Seunghyun.”

“Yes, jagi?”

“…Put me down.”

“Absolutely not. You’re mine now. Carrying you forever.”

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part 22)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Smut

The following morning, sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the bedroom, waking you from your slumber. It was around seven o'clock when you jolted awake, the realization hitting like a freight train. 

"Shit! Wake up, wake up!" you shouted, shaking Cillian's shoulder frantically. He stirred slowly, his blue eyes heavy with sleep.

"What's happening?" Cillian mumbled, his voice thick with drowsiness.

"We're late! Over two hours late for filming!" you exclaimed, already jumping out of bed and scrambling for clothes. Your phone showed multiple missed calls and text messages from Shaheen and the production team.

Cillian sat up, suddenly alert. "Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he, too, processed the reality of the situation.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, urgency quickening his movements while his energy matched yours and the weight of the morning pressed down on him.

You were both throwing on clothes, your movements a blur of panic.

"Shit, shit, shit!" you exclaimed, tossing your shirt over your head and rushing to find your shoes.

Cillian dashed into the bathroom, his voice echoing through the doorway while you rounded up the scattered papers of your script littering the coffee table, heart racing.

"We can't arrive on set together. It'll look suspicious," he declared, pulling on his wrinkled shirt while splashing some cold water on to his face.

You paused, meeting his frantic gaze.  "I know," you shot back, urgency thrumming through your veins as you packed your bag.

"You go first and I will see you there in a few minutes," Cillian instructed, his voice tight with focus.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you grabbed your bag and darted toward the door.

"Text me when you get there!" Cillian's voice echoed behind you as you sprinted down the hall, shoes slapping against the floor.

You didn't glance back; time was slipping away, and today was a day you couldn't afford to mess up.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and you rushed inside, heart pounding.

As the doors slid shut, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Shaheen.

"Where are you? Everyone's waiting!"

A knot twisted in your stomach. You hit reply, typing as quickly as you could.

"On my way! My alarm didn't go off! I am so sorry!"

The elevator doors opened with a chime, and you dashed out, desperation propelling you forward.

The studio was only ten minutes away, but every second felt like an eternity.

Ten minutes later…

As you sprinted into the lot, the sound of voices echoed from the set, but your eyes locked onto Shaheen, who stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

"Finally, Y/N! Steven is already on edge and Cillian isn't here yet either. It's a fucking disaster," Shaheen hissed, frustration radiating from her and you gulped, running a hand through your hair, feeling the weight of the day crashing down.

"Right, I'll get my makeup done. I am so sorry," you said to Shaheen again as she ticked you off the chart before you made your way to the makeup station, throwing your bag onto a nearby chair.

Cillian arrived ten minutes after you, his brow furrowed, shirt half-tucked as Shaheen rushed over to greet him.

"What is going on today with all of you? You're late. Y/N is late. Everyone is fucking late today," Shaheen snapped, her frustration palpable as she rushed around and signed Cillian in.

"I am sorry. I overslept," Cillian replied, running a hand through his tousled hair, eyes scanning for your face over at the make-up station.

"Whatever, just go and get your make-up done," Shaheen muttered, waving her hand dismissively.

Cillian stormed past her, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of you tangled in hairspray and brushes.

He took a seat on the other side of the makeup station, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you.

There was a silent awkwardness that hung between you like fog, thick and electric. He clearly did not know what to say, or whether to say anything, but the fact that he didn't make any conversation with you at all was somewhat suspicious to the make-up artists.

Cillian glanced your way, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Late night?" He finally broke the silence, his tone neutral, but the storm behind his eyes flickered.

You kept your gaze focused on the mirror, fingers fidgeting.

"Just... yeah, you know how it is," you replied, forcing a casual tone, causing the make-up artist to raise an eyebrow, scepticism etching her features. You were acting and, for some reason, this was obvious to her.

"Apparently her alarm didn't go off," the make-up artist interjected, a teasing lilt to her tone as she worked on your foundation.

"Right," Cillian mumbled, eyes narrowing as he caught the make-up artist's eye.

"And yours didn't either, I take it?" she quipped, a playful smirk on her face.

"No, I forgot to set it," Cillian grumbled, running a hand over his stubble, embarrassment flickering across his features.

The makeup artist chuckled lightly, then turned back to you.

"Alright, let's get you ready," she said, moving with swift efficiency as she applied the final strokes of makeup.

Cillian shifted in his chair, tension coiling in his muscles as he observed your reflection in the mirror and, before too long, you were finished for the day, ready to dive back into the chaos of filming.

"Thanks, Nancy," you murmured, glancing at Cillian again before, finally, making your way back on to set.

Cillian's gaze followed you, a tightness in his chest growing with each step you took away from him without saying a word.

***

"It's your turn now, Cillian," the makeup artist announced, her tone brisk as she gestured for him to settle in, and Cillian's jaw immediately tightened.

"Okay,” he muttered, forcing a tight smile as, suddenly, Barry strode into the make-up corner to get a quick touch up, his easy grin cutting through the tension.

"Morning, everyone!," he said as his cheerful tone broke the thick tension between Cillian and Nancy.

"Morning, Barry," Cillian replied, his voice sharp as he turned to face him for a moment while Barry leaned against the wall frame, his confidence radiating.

"Bit late today, are we?" he grinned, his big eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Yes, I forgot to set my alarm," Cillian shot back, irritation flashing in his eyes.

Barry chuckled, leaning closer to Cillian. "Well, that can easily happen when you are distracted," he teased, a knowing glimmer in his eye.

Cillian's jaw tightened, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Not sure what you mean by that," he replied, forcing a smile while Barry's grin widened mischievously.

"Sure you don't," Barry shot back, laughter lingering in the air. Cillian's expression hardened, the corners of his mouth twitching as Barry leaned in closer. "Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but don't you think it is weird that you and Y/N are both late today?" Barry asked and Cillian's eyes immediately narrowed, his jaw tightening.

"Not sure what you're implying, Barry," he snapped, a flicker of tension sparking in the air.

Barry raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening.

"Just saying, it's a bit coincidental, that's all," Barry chuckled before pulling away, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Whatever," Cillian muttered, his irritation simmering just below the surface.

"Come on, mate, lighten up. Just having a bit of fun," Barry teased, flashing that disarming smile. Cillian clenched his jaw, keeping his gaze fixed on the makeup mirror, the tension unmistakable.

"I guess I am not in a joking mood today," Cillian muttered, tension crackling around him.

Barry shrugged, a playful grin lingering. "Fair enough. I will leave you alone then," he said before pointing to the hickey on Cillian's neck, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Hey Nancy, you should probably cover this up before you send him off to set," Barry teased, a playful glint in his eyes and the make-up artist chuckled, brushing her fingers against Cillian's neck as she worked.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered, Barry," she replied, smirking as her brush swept over Cillian's skin who could not help but roll his eyes at Barry just before he disappeared again, telling Nancy that he would come back a little later for his touch up.

***

"You know it's not what it looks like," Cillian old Nancy with a serious face after Barry had left, but Nancy shot him a sceptical look, her brow raised.

"I am sure it isn't Cillian," she replied, eyes glinting with mischief as she finished covering the mark. "But, even if it is, it's none of my business and I am not one to gossip," Nancy retorted, a teasing glint in her eye as she stepped back to admire her work.

Cillian huffed, brows furrowing, but he knew that he had to leave it at that.

"I appreciate it, Nancy," he muttered, forcing a semblance of a smile as he stood.

She nodded, adjusting his collar. "I know you do," Nancy smiled and a brief tension lingered just before he turned, ready to confront whatever awaited him on set.

***

Despite the initial drama of running late and the tense start to your day , the morning's scenes had gone smoothly, almost too smoothly, as if the universe was conspiring to offer a moment of respite before the storm.

You had worked alongside Cillian without a problem because he was a master of his craft, his gaze intense and focused, never wavering from the scene at hand. And you, well, you matched his intensity, step for step, word for word.

But now, as the afternoon scenes approached, the air between you, Cillian and Barry grew somewhat heavy.

At around 3 o'clock it was time a scene you and Cillian were both dreading. It was a scene between your character and Thomas Shelby, as well as his son, portrayed by Barry, who steps in to prevent his father from hurting you.

Your character, an informant for the fascists, was supposed to provide vital information to Thomas, but instead, she decided to betray him. The scene was said to start off with a passionate kiss between your character and Thomas, but just after the kiss deepened, Cillian's character pulls away and pushes your character against the wall by her throat, his grip firm, but not enough to cause harm.

Barry, who was portraying Thomas's son, Duke, was supposed to step in and point a gun at his father at this point and the scene was to escalate from there.

Stepping on to the set for this action and dialogue filled scene you felt the weight of everyone's gaze on you and, luckily for you, Cillian, with his piercing blue eyes, seemed to notice.

"It will be fine," he assured you, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer than necessary. "We've rehearsed this and we know what to do," he said and, for the past few hours or so, you did exactly that. You had rehearsed your lines and the flow of the scene, without the kiss, and Steven Knight was happy with your work.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. "I know," you replied, your voice steady, masking the turmoil within but, as the director called for quiet on the set, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only you, Cillian, and the looming tension in the room.

"Action!" the director's voice then cut through the silence and you stepped forward, your heart pounding as you locked eyes with Cillian, who stood across the dimly lit room, his back against the wall.

"I've been waiting for you, Tommy," your character whispered, her voice laced with a mixture of seduction and defiance as you approached him.

Cillian's character, Thomas, remained silent, his eyes betraying the storm within.

"I am sure you have, Love," Cillian's voice, deep and rich, broke the silence as you traced the freckles on his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips before leaning in for the kiss, your lips parting slightly as you breathed in his scent, a heady mix of cologne and something purely Cillian.

The kiss itself required no acting and you let yourself melt into it, your body leaning into his, fingers splaying across his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart beneath your palm. Cillian responded, his hands cupping your face, his lips moving with yours, a perfect dance of passion and desire.

The chemistry between you and Cillian on screen was incendiary, a wildfire ready to consume the world. You let yourself sink into the kiss, letting the moment overwhelm you. But, as the kiss deepened, Cillian snapped back into character and pushed you against the wall, his fingers wrapping around your throat, not too tight, but enough to convey the intended threat.

"You've been working with the enemy, haven't you, eh?" Cillian's voice, now cold and hard, cut through the intimate atmosphere. You gasped, feigning surprise, as your character should.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Tommy," you retorted, your eyes flashing with a mix of fear and defiance and Cillian's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't play so fucking innocent with me, Love. I know you've been passing information to the Blackshirts," he accused, his breath warm against your skin.

"I-I had no choice," you stammered, your character's fear growing as the scene escalated, which is when Barry's character Duke, who had been watching the whole time, stepped forward, his face etched with concern.

"Stop, you are fucking hurting her," Barry's voice cut through the tension, his character's eyes darting between you and Cillian.

Cillian, as Thomas, hesitated, his grip loosening slightly. "Get out of here, son. This doesn't concern you," he growled, his character's attention still fixed on you but, just as he looked at you, he noticed that you were turning pale.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Cillian asked as he let go off your throat, but it wasn't Cillian's concern that caught your attention, but the room spinning around you.

He had not pressed hard on your throat, it was all an act, but the world was suddenly moving too fast.

"I..." You started, but the words trailed off as your vision blurred and the director called 'cut'.

"Y/N, hey," Cillian's voice cut through the blur, concern lacing his tone. "Are you dizzy?" he asked, his hand brushing your cheek, his touch sending a spark of awareness through your body.

"I..." you started again, but the room spun, and you couldn't find the words.

"What's happening?" Barry asked as he approached, wanting to ensure that you were alright just as you sank to the floor.

"Shit," Cillian cursed. "Where is her bag!" he barked, his voice echoing through the set while Shaheen quickly called for the paramedics.

"I need her fucking bag!" Cillian demanded again, his voice echoing through the suddenly silent room and Barry went to locate it in a haste.

"I've got it," Barry called out, his voice breaking the tension as he hurried back, bag in hand and Cillian quickly unzipped it, rummaging through the contents.

"What is this?" Barry asked, his eyes widening as he spotted the insulin pen and glucose monitor. "Is she diabetic?" he asked and Cillian nodded, his eyes fixed on the monitor, his fingers deftly.

Cillian pricked your finger, the swift action belying the concern in his eyes. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he studied the reading. "It's too fucking low again," he confirmed, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"Y/N, where are your glucose tablets?" Cillian asked, his voice urgent as he roamed through the bag in panic, unable to find them.

You shook your head, struggling to find your voice. "At the apartment," you managed, your words barely audible as the world around you faded.

"We need to get some sugar into her," Cillian said, his voice filled with concern, and Barry, quick to react, snatched a half-finished can off coke from one of the cast members.

"Here," Barry urged, his voice filled with worry, and you, struggling to focus, took the can, your hand shaking as you brought it to your lips.

You sipped the sugary liquid, the taste familiar and comforting. "I'm okay," you managed, your voice faint, but determined.

"No, you're not. This shouldn't happen that often," Cillian insisted, his hand on your shoulder, his gaze unwavering as, finally, the paramedics arrived.

"She's diabetic," Cillian explained, his voice laced with urgency. "And her blood sugar is really low."

The paramedics quickly took charge, their efficiency a welcome relief in the tense atmosphere. They helped you up, their hands steady and reassuring. "We'll take care of her," one of them assured Cillian, their eyes kind.

"Miss, are you able to walk over here with us?" one of the paramedics asked, his voice gentle and you nodded, feeling the room spinning around you.

"I'll try," you whispered, your voice faint as you took a step, leaning on Cillian's steady arm as he assisted the paramedics.

"Did you have an episode like this before?" the man asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you sighed as you recalled the previous night's events.

"When was your last episode like this?" the paramedic inquired, his eyes kind, but firm.

"I can't remember," you lied, your voice soft but Cillian spoke up.

"Last night, about midnight," he confirmed, his gaze flickering between you and the paramedics, causing Barry's chin to drop in disbelief, but he did not say anything.

"Do you know what her blood sugar level was then?" the paramedic asked Cillian and he nodded.

"Yes, it was about 3.2," Cillian replied, his eyes never leaving the paramedics, his voice calm, but there was a sense of urgency beneath his words.

"Okay, well, it is 2.9 now and she needs to get to the hospital," the paramedic said, his voice carrying a sense of authority.

Cillian nodded, his eyes never leaving you. "I'll come," he stated, his hand tightening on your arm, offering support but you shook your head.

"I am fine," you insisted, a spark of defiance flashing in your eyes. "You need to stay here and finish your scenes," you continued but Cillian was insistent.

"I'm coming with you," he said, his voice firm. "I'll let Steven know, and he'll understand."

"No, he won't," you whispered, your voice laced with frustration. "Because it makes no sense for you to be that worried about me," you insisted, your eyes pleading with him to understand. "Despite, I can handle this and I don't want to disrupt your filming any further," you explained and Cillian knew that you were right.

It would be suspicious if he were to come with you and even Barry pulled him aside, telling him that you would be fine.

"Mate, you can't really go with her," he said. "I mean, it will look weird," Barry continued, his voice low, a hint of concern in his eyes as he looked around the set, the crew and cast members watching them.

Cillian sighed, his eyes never leaving yours as you told him that Barry was right.

"I know, I just don't want you to go alone," Cillian insisted, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. "I don't like the idea of you being by yourself."

"I'll be fine, really," you assured him, your eyes holding his, willing him to understand. "I can handle this, and I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay," Cillian relented, his eyes softening. "But if there's any issue, any at all, you call me, promise?" he said, his gaze intent, and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips.

"I promise," you assured him, your voice steady. "Now, go finish your scenes and I'll see you soon," you said, your eyes sparkling with determination before the paramedics took you away.

Cillian watched you leave, his heart heavy with concern. He knew you were being brave, putting on a strong front, but the worry lingered in his eyes.

After you were out of sight and Shaheen wrote up an incident report, Barry approached Cillian quietly, ensuring that no one else would hear what he had to say. "I know you're worried, but she'll be fine mate," Barry said, clapping Cillian on the back.

"I know," Cillian brushed him off. "And, for the record, I just wanted to be a good friend and ensure that she is being looked after, that's all," Cillian explained, his voice low, as if confiding a secret and Barry couldn't help but laugh.

"Mate, you are like two fucking teenagers, sneaking around behind the scenes. It's kind of adorable," Barry's voice echoed, a smile tugging at his lips. "But you need to tune it down a bit if you don't want anyone to find out about you hooking up with your daughter's best friend," Barry continued, his voice low, ensuring only Cillian could hear him.

Cillian's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "We're just family friends," he lied, his voice strained. "And I'm just looking out for her."

"That's not what it looks like," Barry countered, his voice low, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "And it's not just me who has noticed. Shaheen also thinks that there is something going on between the two of you," he revealed, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Cillian's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and alarm. "She does? Why? What did she say?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"She said "I think they're shagging," Barry laughed as he recounted Shaheen's words, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"We are not shagging," Cillian insisted, his eyes narrowing at Barry. "I'm just looking out for her, that's all. I have known her for a while, and I want to make sure she's okay," he explained and Barry was happy to leave it at that, not wanting to pry further.

"Alright, mate," Barry said, his voice low. "Just be careful. The crew is starting to talk, and you don't want rumours spreading," he warned, his gaze intense.

Cillian nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I will. And thanks for the heads-up," Cillian said and his heart raced as he absorbed Barry's words, the warning echoing in his mind. He knew the crew was perceptive, and their whispers could quickly turn into gossip, especially with Shaheen's sharp intuition.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys @strangeobsessed

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Five

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss 

Description: After a conversation with Emily, Spencer drowns in a sea of regret and guilt. That’s when JJ gives him a harsh reality check.

Content/Warnings: Spencer/JJ centric chapter, friendships are threatened, drama, emissions of guilt, regret, Spencer thinks of you and Emily to a deep degree, a break up ensues, one use of Y/N. 

WC: 2.1K

Y'all know the drill. 450 notes for next part!

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @sadroses98 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @cultish-corner @s0urmarvel @measure-in-pain @yourfavoritefangirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @bookworm003 @finnysmusic @itsbritney123 @hizzielover @tlou-reid @babyspiderling @sunsebaessie @lilrios-world @reidsdaisies @heleaflm @emotionalecho @witchcraftandwit @azxulaa @small-and-violent @corpsebridenightamare @iselmeraz @mynameisnotokay @mcira @busywyourmom @reidloversisforever @staygoldsquatchling02 @sabage101 @maybe-not-this @whydoineedabloggirl @dckgzz @thebloomingeagle @lightreiding @queenbloody @marimarvelfan @renjunniex @spicycalabaza @spookyparadisesheep @uneducateddd-blog @wannabewolf @evvy96 @reap3erslov3 @reidloversisforever @bruher @shesoperfectt @pleasantwitchgarden @bippityboppityboob1tch @wannabewolf @greatcatblaze @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @littlegirl-bd @prentissluvrz @kalulakunundrum @navs-bhat @marimarvelfan @mayafatimakhan @francescaanoya

The sound of the ceramic shattering on the ground had you looking at the floor first, the overly sugary coffee surely going to make the floor sticky and give everyone’s shoes that annoying sound of them getting stuck to the ground.

“That’s going to be a pain to clean up.” Was all Emily could say, unphased by his reaction. Truth be told, he had no reason to react the way he did. He had made his bed the moment he got with JJ, losing every chance that he had with you. “Pick up the pieces, don’t need anyone getting hurt.” She added.

“So this is what you two do whenever you're supposed to be working? Not very professional.” Spencer huffed, kneeling down to pick up the remains of the navy blue coffee cup, his head shaking. 

“Everyone is entitled to a lunch break for an hour every workday. What anyone else does outside of this office is absolutely none of your business.” The unit chief countered back while she was heading over to the bullpen doors. “When you’re finished, come to my office. We need to talk.” 

You were looking between Spencer and Emily, hands pushed into your pockets while the both of them had their little back and forth. “Can we all just calm it down? There’s no need for any more drama than this team already has.” The voice of reason. How fitting.

“I am calm. I just find it shocking that you’re kissing our boss in the elevator.” He commented, the shards rested in the palm of his hand as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

“You have no right to be mad and you know that.” You countered, deciding against furthering the argument as you approached the doors to the bullpen. How dare he act angry at you after what he did. He had no logical reasoning to act like a child over your decisions.

You knew that this was him lashing out, showing that deep down, he really is bothered and has noticed what he lost out on. That could’ve been you and him kissing in the elevator instead of you and Emily, the both of you could be going out to lunch together… He knew where he went wrong and this was going to haunt him. 

Spencer was always dramatic in that way, needing to see just what he lost before it was hitting him like a freight train. It was something he did with JJ, then he got with her and things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing in the department of their relationship.

He felt immense guilt, especially whenever JJ and Will had to make plans for the boys to visit with her. She should’ve been home with her children, not with him. Although it was seemingly too late, he highly doubted Will would take JJ back. 

He made it known on several occasions that she made her bed and she had to lie in it, to suffer from the loss of a loving marriage. In a way, it made Spencer feel dirty. What would Henry think of his beloved uncle when he got older? What would Michael think? In their story, as well as yours, Spencer was the bad guy. 

Those thoughts were in his mind all day after that. Even whenever being scolded by Emily, he just wasn’t present in the conversation. All he could think about was how happy you seemed with her, the way you looked at her. It made him feel nauseous. 

He knew Emily would take care of you at the end of the day but all he could do is think about what he lost. Emily was the lucky one, the one who didn’t break your heart into a million pieces. She got to hold you, to kiss you, to bask in your love and presence. 

His mind wandered farther, the idea of you two being intimate together. The idea made jealousy tug at his heart. She would be the one to worship you, to bring a rush of euphoria over you so strong that you wouldn’t dare think about another person in the same manner. 

It made him irrationally angry, upset at Emily because she was lucky enough to step in to the relationship that should’ve been shared between you and him. 

“Are you even listening?” Emily’s voice made Spencer look over at her, his eyes searching her features. She was angry at him, the comments he made earlier being the driving force behind it. He understood why, however this talk was unnecessary. 

“Yes. I’m listening. I just think this is all a waste of my time and yours. I’m sorry for making the comments I made but you have to admit, you are our boss at the end of the day. If you can’t handle what I have to say, imagine hearing what other people will say.” He stated. 

“I can guarantee you that nobody would care as much as you do. There will have to be a tedious paperwork process done for this to continue, but I don’t mind it.” It was a wonder how Emily kept her composure despite Spencer’s shitty attitude. “I am just asking you to stop with the comments and quite honestly, you need to grow up. The Spencer that I know would be happy for his coworkers who are also his friends. He wouldn’t be throwing a hissy fit over jealousy.”

“Look. I am happy for you, for her. I’m not jealous either.” Debatable. He didn’t care to admit things like that. “I just don’t like how I didn't know. She used to tell me everything!” 

“And then you ruined that for yourself. You know that I love you but you’re acting foolish. I don’t want to constantly have battles between us, alright? Just take this time to reflect and realize what you did wrong and then let all of that built up anger go. Now, go and wash your face. Get your shit together.” 

That was the end of the conversation, the male slowly pushing himself to stand before making a slow retreat from the office. Washing his face was good, would clear his head, settle his nerves.. So, he made a b-line straight for the men’s washroom. Although unbeknownst to him, JJ was hurrying out of the bullpen right behind him.

“What happened in there?” She made her presence known as she grabbed Spencer’s arm, startling him in the process. “What are you trying to pull now?”

“Trying to pull? Are you serious? Emily wanted to have a private discussion with me. I suggest you mind your own business, Jennifer.” He spat, the built up aggression causing him to breathe heavier thn usual, his face red. He needed to get to the bathroom now. 

“Woah, hold on. You think you are allowed to get rude with me because you don’t know how to leave things alone? Spencer, don’t be ridiculous.” She began although the male’s hands were raised in self defense as he looked in her direction. He had no time for this.

“I know how to leave things alone. I’ve proved that enough these past few weeks. You just don’t like that all the attention isn’t on you for once. Nobody really cares what you have to say in regards to this situation. I don’t care. You don’t like the way I carry myself and that is your problem. I can’t change myself just to make you approve.” 

“Are you crazy? I’m just telling you to leave them alone.”

“Yeah, well how about you leave me alone?” He spat, now turning on his heel to get to the bathroom. He knew taking out his anger on JJ wasn’t fair but she just always poked and prodded at him. He hated that. 

As he made it to the bathroom, he was staring at his reflection, the man in the mirror being someone who he could barely recognize. The old Spencer would’ve never taken things this far. He would’ve been too afraid of backlash, would’ve pulled away entirely once he saw the hectic nature of what his decisions could unleash.. 

With the sink water steadily running, he was leaning down to splash some cold water on his face. He just needed to calm down, to think through this situation and what his options were. His brain was amazing with conjuring up ideas and theories, although it was like as of late, he was lacking.

“Get your shit together.” Spencer spoke to himself, his eyes closing to avoid looking at himself, at who he became over the years; a man who broke someone’s heart, broke a family, and broke a team dynamic. Hell, he might’ve even broken himself in the process.

The sound of flowing water coupled with his breathing was all he could hear, blocking out the rest of the world as he was bringing himself back down to a more calm and collected state. His decisions have never haunted him like these past few ones have. 

Once calm, his hand was turning off the water, his eyes watching a steady pour slow down to nothing. Alright. He was alright. 

Upon exiting the bathroom, JJ was still there, arms crossed as she was waiting patiently for him to come out. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” She stated, looking up at the man in front of her.

“I don’t want your help. I just- I feel like this isn’t working. I don’t like this relationship or whatever we have anymore. I can’t keep up with it, I just can’t.” He blurted out, heart beating like a drum in his chest, threatening to burst out of his chest cavity.

A tense silence came over them as JJ pursed her lips together. “After I left my husband to try and make this work?” She asked, not giving the man time to answer as she took in a breath. “Fine. Maybe you’re right. You can’t do this anymore. Because now you’ve realized the weight of your decisions. I always wanted you to reflect and realize what you did wrong, to take accountability. I just didn’t expect it to lead to this.”

“I just can’t do it. I can’t look at Henry or Michael without feeling immense guilt. I broke up the dynamic they were used to, at least contributed to it. We’ve both lost important things to us. The only difference is, you’re lucky enough to have your children. You could salvage a cordial relationship with Will. I’ve lost everything.” 

“You’re unbelievable!” The blonde stared at the taller male in disbelief. “You are throwing a pity party for yourself because suddenly you feel the need to be jealous over what Emily has? After this whole experience, I can tell you that Y/N is much better off with her than she is with you.”

The ugly truth that hit Spencer harder than a train derailed from the tracks.

“I have to agree that this needs to end. You also need to leave those two alone. If anything, take my advice on that. Let them live. Let them be happy.” She frowned while bringing her hands up to tiredly rub at her face. “She doesn’t love you and you need to realize that.”

Those words stuck with Spencer, even whenever he made it to his apartment later that night. He was pacing around his living room, arms over his chest, as he really had time to think about everything. The silence never did him any favors, but he couldn’t even ignore his thoughts with a book like he usually could. He tried. 

Every conclusion that he conjured up was the same; he needed to leave you alone. Not that easy, though. You knew him better than the others did. You two talked and shared a lot in the time frame of knowing each other.

He got a horrible idea, one that he knew he shouldn’t have had, but it was an idea. 

With his hand digging into his pocket, he was eventually retrieving his phone, getting into it before getting to his contact list.

There wasn’t much scrolling that had to be done, eventually finding a familiar name. Your name. He was silently outweighing his options. You could answer, you could block him, or you could flat out ignore him.

So, throwing caution to the wind, he hit call, slowly sitting in the middle of the floor as he patiently waited for an answer.

[sapphicandgraphic]

The Girl Next Door—Chapter 9

Synopsis: A new neighbor turns Melissa’s world upside down. 

Chapter: 9/10 (The Full Moon)

Series Warnings: Slow burn, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, protective Melissa, fem reader, age difference, WLW

Chapter Warnings: Descriptions of panic attack, parental death, attempted self-harm (non-graphic), round 1 of makeup sex (very graphic), yeehaw 🤠

“You always this quiet?” 

It was almost dawn and you were cruising through the glassy streets of downtown Philly with a paramedic named Dom. He was burly, with a little beer belly that pressed up against the steering wheel. 

You shrugged. “I guess?” 

Your tone made it clear—you didn’t feel like chatting. Dom nodded, lapsing back into silence.

You’d woken up in the backseat of your car almost 24 hours ago, hungover and miserable. Ignoring several missed calls from Melissa and Boone, you grabbed a hot cup of coffee at a nearby diner and then went straight to work, electing to pick up a double shift instead of going home. 

“Man, I feel bad for the poor bastards working tonight,” Dom continued, making another valiant attempt at small talk. “The full moon always brings out the crazies.” 

You made a noncommittal noise in the back of your throat, privately wondering if you could convince the station manager to put you on call again. You were exhausted, but going home was the last thing you wanted to do. The possibility of running into Melissa had once been the brightest part of your day—trading soft smiles and quiet hellos on the stairs—but now the thought of seeing her was too much, too overwhelming. 

The police scanner erupted with excited chatter and you leaned forward, turning up the volume. 

“Pedestrians report seeing a white male on the ramparts of a building on the 6500 block of Market Street, units in the area please respond.” 

You looked at Dom, who immediately shook his head. 

“They ain’t requesting paramedics,” he said. 

“We’re right here, though,” you said, jabbing a thumb toward the street. “Let’s at least check it out.” 

It was still early and there was barely any traffic downtown. Dom kept the sirens and lights off, edging toward the tower with his face pressed against the windshield. 

“I can barely see anything,” he grumbled, coming to a stop directly in front of the building. “Where is this guy?” 

“There,” you said, pointing to a small figure silhouetted against the grayish predawn light. You unbuckled your seatbelt and hopped out of the cab. The wind was picking up. Large droplets of water smacked down on the sidewalk. You jogged toward the entrance and stepped through the revolving doors. 

“First responder,” you said, identifying yourself. “What’s the fastest way to get to the top of this building?” 

The security guard looked at you uncertainly, so you slapped your palm down on the desk in front of him.

“We have a possible jumper, I need to get up there now.” 

That did the trick. He leapt out of his chair and hurried to the freight elevator. Swiping his key card, he pressed 54 on the panel of circular buttons. Music played on tinny speakers. 

“Who would be in the building this early?” 

The guard frowned thoughtfully. “Usually just maintenance people.” 

The elevator arrived at the top floor and the doors slid open. The space was vacant, with just a few computer chairs and desks scattered in random clusters. A cold breeze whipped against your face. Looking around, you quickly spotted the only open window. 

“Go back downstairs,” you said. “My partner will be wondering where I am, you can send him up.” 

You didn’t wait for an answer, striding across the room and cautiously poking your head outside to look around. 

The man was standing on a narrow ledge, gripping the closest concrete beam with white knuckles. He looked to be in his early fifties, dressed in a navy suit and matching necktie that was flapping furiously in the wind. He glanced over when you appeared. 

“S-stay back,” he stammered, shivering. 

You raised your hands, assuring him you wouldn’t come any closer. “I just want to talk.”

You leaned a bit further out the dormer, trying to get a sense of your options. The ledge directly beneath the window was about two feet wide. You glanced down at the street far below and a wave of queasiness washed over you. 

“What’s your name?” 

When he didn’t reply, you introduced yourself and he finally looked at you properly, a glimmer of faint surprise on his face. 

“Ben,” he answered, then added, “You and my daughter have the same name.” 

“No kidding? Small world.” You knew enough to keep him talking, but didn’t have much more than basic de-escalation training to rely on for whatever came next. “How old is she?” 

“S-seventeen,” he said. “She’ll be eighteen in a month.” 

Down on the street, a pair of police cruisers had just arrived. You could see this development making Ben more agitated. 

Casting around for ways to distract him, you suddenly heard yourself say, “My dad died when I was about her age.”

He looked up. Encouraged, you kept talking.  

“He was a lot like me. Stubborn. Intense. That morning, we had argued about something stupid. The last thing I said wasn’t…”

You suddenly found there were tears clouding the edge of your vision. You swallowed around a lump in your throat before you could continue. “It wasn’t very nice. And then I walked out the door and never saw him again.”

 You locked eyes with Ben, pouring every ounce of sincerity you could muster into your next carefully chosen words. 

“Worst day of my life, losing him,” you said. “Please don’t put your daughter through that.” 

Ben opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted as a news helicopter buzzed overhead, swinging low and circling the building. He swore softly, flinching and swaying a little as the sound intensified. 

You clenched your fists, feeling useless. If he wouldn’t come to you, the only other option was to go to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard a voice that sounded an awful lot like Melissa Schemmenti. Idiota.

“Fuck it,” you growled, pushing that cautionary voice aside. 

In one smooth motion, you swung your legs out the window, planted your feet on the ledge, and stood upright before you lost your nerve. Jesus Christ, it was a long way down. You shuffled toward Ben and he finally looked over again, alarmed to realize you had joined him on the precipice. 

“Stop!” His voice was desperate. “Go back inside!”

Slowly, carefully, you extended your left hand. “Not unless you come with me.”

He glanced down at the street, pain swirling in his big brown eyes. You deliberated for a half second longer. Then, closing the distance between you, you gripped his shoulder, effectively anchoring yourself to him…and hoping you hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of your life. 

                                                                ***

Melissa was awoken from a fitful sleep by the sound of her phone ringing. It was raining outside, and the walls of her bedroom were bathed in a stormy, slate gray light. She answered, mumbling your name into the speaker. 

“Melissa?” A man’s voice asked, vaguely familiar. “It’s Boone.” 

Melissa hadn’t seen or heard from you since Friday night. At this point, she was sick with worry. The last look you’d given her before walking away—so hurt, so lost—was seared into her memory. She’d called, texted, banged on your door. But you were gone.  

“Boone?” Melissa croaked, confused and still half-asleep. Something in his voice put her on edge. “What’s wrong? How’d ya get this number?” 

“Turn on Channel 12,” he said grimly. “They’ve been playing it all morning.”

Melissa felt the icy fist of fear plunge into her chest, painfully gripping her heart. She shot out of bed, wide awake, nearly falling over the shoes she’d left in the hallway. Grabbing the remote, she clicked the TV on. The local news station was in the middle of a report. 

“—harrowing scene underway earlier this morning in downtown Philadelphia as a first responder attempted to coax a troubled man off the ledge of a skyscraper. This clip from our correspondent captures the drama playing out in real time. Just a warning, some viewers may find the footage distressing.” 

The screen transitioned to a news helicopter feed, which showed two figures—a man dressed in a navy suit and a paramedic—standing on the narrow exterior ledge of a tall building. Melissa sank onto the sofa, not believing what she was seeing.

Boone said something on the other end of the line, but Melissa couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The phone slipped out of her hand, fell to the floor.

“It appears the first responder is trying to reason with this man, who is clearly in crisis, and prevent this from escalating,” the reporter said. “The rain and wind are certainly making an already very precarious situation that much more dangerous, I’m told that gusts are up to 35 mph right now and they are hundreds of feet in the air.”

Melissa could see your lips moving as you spoke, a nervous smile flickering across your features.

“We don’t know much about either of these individuals at this time and we don’t know what led up to this moment, but there are emergency services on the ground cordoning off the block, attempting to formulate a strategy in the event of a worst case scenario.”  

Melissa watched as you extended your hand, moving further out along the ledge. Every fiber of her being was willing you to stop, step away, protect yourself, get back inside. 

“Don’t,” Melissa moaned, easily reading the determined look on your face. “Don’t do it.” 

Almost defiantly, you closed the distance, outstretched hand landing on the man’s shoulder. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then the man bowed his head. He seemed to be crying.

“Something is happening. The first responder has made contact, and appears to be negotiating.”

Several tense seconds slipped by before the man finally nodded, turning back toward the open window.

“It looks like both parties are slowly moving to safety, they need to be very careful and they certainly aren’t in the clear quite yet, but this is just an incredible outcome that — oh my god!”

Suddenly, the man’s back foot slipped off the wet ledge of the building and he lost his balance, pitching sideways. You turned reflexively, wrapped an arm around his torso to steady him, and the video feed went dark. 

“No!” Melissa screamed. 

The station anchor appeared on screen again, looking extremely grave. “Now, we apologize for that interruption, our feeds run on a 5-second delay and our producer initially made the decision to cut because he was uncertain of the outcome. But take a look at what happened next.” 

Melissa felt like the world was sliding out of focus. She realized she was crying, that she had been crying for some time.  

The helicopter feed resumed. Somehow, against all odds, you had caught the man in the navy suit, pulling him back from certain death. You both clung to each other in a tight embrace, leaning against the facade of the building. For a moment, you stood there catching your breath. Then, hand never leaving his, you guided him carefully toward the open window, helping him duck back inside and finally hopping through the dormer yourself. 

“I’m happy to report both individuals were treated for minor injuries at the scene but are expected to make a full recovery. Stay with us for more details on how this incredible story unfolded and an interview with the chief of police after this commercial break.” 

Slowly, Melissa came back to her senses. Alive, alive, you were alive. 

She retrieved her phone from the floor with numb fingertips. Boone was still rambling on, working himself up into a proper outrage. 

“—don’t know what went down between you two, but if you see her before I do, tell her I’m going to kick her ass up one side of this city and down the other!” 

There was a faint shuffling noise in the hallway, the soft sound of tired footsteps dragging across the floor. Melissa’s ears, which had been hyper-focused all weekend hoping to intercept you, suddenly perked up.

“Way ahead of ya,” she growled, jumping up from the sofa. 

Melissa flung open her door just as you were unlocking yours. For a beat, you simply stared at each other. The telltale hum of attraction flickered to life in your chest as you looked at her, wearing nothing but a pair of boy shorts and an oversized tee. 

“Well,” you said hoarsely, the ghost of a smile flickering across your tired face. “Looks like I finally know what Melissa Schemmenti wears to bed.” 

Her voice was little more than a snarl as she advanced, pushing you backward into your apartment and gripping your arms. 

“You got a death wish or something?”

She shook you a little, as if to confirm you were really standing there in her arms, whole and alive and unharmed. Up close, you could see that she’d been crying. 

“I take it you saw the news,” you guessed quietly.

Melissa paused, concerned by your flat, disaffected tone.

“You almost - you could have d-died!” she choked out. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Aftershocks of adrenaline were still crashing through your body. You felt feverish, strung out. Now Melissa was suddenly here, soft hands running up and down your arms, looking just as wrecked as you felt. It was too much. 

“I can’t - I can’t do this,“ you gasped, anxiety racing through you.

You didn’t have any energy left to regulate your system. The first thing to go haywire was your breathing. You opened your mouth to elaborate, and found yourself hyperventilating. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Melissa stepped even closer, placing her hands on your hips, carefully guiding you to the sofa. You sank into the cushions without a word and the redhead knelt between your legs. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, though she had a hunch. “Talk to me.”

You laid a trembling finger on your pulse point. The rhythm was wild, erratic. “Panic attack,” you guessed, desperately trying to regain control. But your gasps kept coming in big shaky gulps, you were trembling, and you couldn’t seem to get out of your own head. 

Suddenly, a warm palm cupped your jaw, breaking through the terror. You leaned into the touch, even as you told yourself it meant nothing. 

“Can you try something for me?” Melissa asked, remembering some basic first aid training she’d taken last year. You gave her an uncertain look. “I just wanna help,” she said, tone close to pleading. “Let me take care of you.” 

You nodded, rubbing a shaky hand across your chest, trying to ease the tightness there. 

“Tell me 5 things you see right now.”

“Table, coffee cup…” You swallowed thickly, casting your eyes around the room. “Table, coffee cup, magazine, record player, houseplant.” 

“Very good,” she said, keeping her voice low and even. “Now tell me 4 things you can touch.” 

“Sofa, throw pillow, blanket.” Your fingers twitched, almost reaching out for the other woman.

“One more,” she coaxed. 

“…a very bossy redhead.” 

Melissa rubbed her thumb against your cheek, smiling crookedly. You flushed ever so slightly when she praised you again. “Great job, sweetie. Now tell me 3 things you can hear.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened, surrendering to the comforting rumble of her voice. The lull of obedience grounded you, the rest of the world slowly fell away. 

“Traffic, fan, ice-maker,” you recited. 

She chuckled and the sound was warm. You felt the vibration through her fingertips, which were still brushing against your face. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” she said, noticing that your breathing had started to even out. “Just a couple more questions. Can ya tell me 2 things you can smell?” 

You frowned, cocking your head slightly to one side. All you could smell was Melissa, a mix of her shampoo and something spicy like peppermint, something earthy like tea leaves. 

“Hon?” She prompted. 

“Cloves,” you said finally. “And vanilla.”  

“Good girl.” A pleasant shiver rippled down your back at those words, a bolt of arousal igniting your core. You took a deep, slow breath, anchoring yourself in the moment with her. 

“Now tell me one thing you can taste.” 

Your eyes snapped opened, glancing down as her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. That familiar tension settled between you, charged with longing and uncertainty and need.

Apologies had never been Melissa’s strong suit. Sometimes they took hours to come, sometimes days, usually arriving too late to do much good. Here on the floor, kneeling between your legs, she realized how close she had come to never getting the chance to deliver this one at all. The thought twisted like a knife in her gut. 

“Taste,” you repeated, coherent thoughts evaporating as she slowly rocked toward you, giving you plenty of time to pull away. You didn’t dare move, whimpering as her lips finally brushed yours. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, murmuring the apology in between feather-light kisses. “I’m so, so sorry—I never wanted to hurt you, and I never shoulda said what I said.” 

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, scanning your face with bright, worried eyes.

“I been so scared all weekend,” Melissa continued with her hushed confession. “Then this morning—“

Her breath caught, and a few tears spilled down her cheeks. You leaned forward, resting your forehead against hers, letting her words sink in, slowly soothing that aching spot inside your chest.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” she said softly. She kissed your throat, your jawline, the corner of your lips, looking mesmerized and reverent. “If something happened to you, I couldn’t—“

She shook her head slightly, words failing. Running the pad of her thumb over your slightly parted lips, her eyes darkened with sudden inspiration.

“Let me show ya?” 

You sighed, unable to resist everything she was offering. “Show me,” you agreed.

Melissa groaned as you licked into her mouth, desire and relief pulsing through her. You pulled her up into your lap so she was straddling your hips, then guided her down until she was grinding against you.

“Take this off,” you said, slipping your hands under her shirt and nuzzling your face against her chest. “I want to look at you.”

She slipped the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her hair, still tousled from sleep, spilled over her shoulders in a messy curtain. Wearing nothing but her boy shorts and a shy smile, Melissa was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

Her head tipped back in pleasure as your hand slipped between her legs, lightly circling her clit through her underwear, running your fingers back and forth until you could see the damp flood of arousal forming a wet spot on the thin fabric. 

“So pretty,” you murmured, hypnotized by the sight of this woman dripping through her underwear for you.

She swore, bucked her hips in desperation. “Need you inside.” 

“Not yet.” 

You wanted to savor this a little longer, licking the creamy skin of her breasts, taking one rosy nipple into your mouth and sucking until it was a hard peak. She arched into your touch with a whine, but seemed to accept the slow, punishing pace you were setting. Her face scrunched up in an adorable mix of frustration and anticipation.

You slid her underwear to the side, swiping your fingers through hot, swollen folds. Melissa’s hips stuttered forward, chasing the friction. 

“You like that?” 

She nodded, unable to form words as she stared down at your busy hands. “Uh-huh.” 

Melissa watched you withdraw two glistening fingers from her pussy, coated in wetness, then fuck her arousal deep into your own mouth. You licked and sucked your digits greedily, eyes rolling back, expression blissed out and slack. She clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled up by you. 

“Please,” she said, fisting a hand into the front of your shirt, voice shaking. The profound emptiness she felt was painful. You lowered your hand to her leg, chin glistening with a mixture of your spit and her slick. 

“Please what?” You smiled lazily, watching her squirm as you traced circles on the inside of her thigh, edging closer to where she wanted your touch most desperately.

“Please fuck me.”

You pushed two fingers inside her, easily slipping into warm, wet heat. She moaned brokenly and sank down on your hand, taking you as deep as she could, rocking against your lap. You surged forward, kissing her and swallowing her desperate sounds.

“Perfect,” you breathed, adding a third finger and feeling her walls clench at the pressure. “You’re perfect.” 

Tears pricked the corners of Melissa’s eyes as she stared at you, nodding wordlessly, totally captivated by the look of desire on your face. 

You drove your hand up into her again and she breathed your name. It was better than she’d dreamed it could be, better than all her fantasies. Warm waves pulsed out from between her legs, where she was so deliciously full of you. Her entire body was enveloped by the toe-curling pleasure. You brushed your palm over her clit and she shuddered.

“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Never stop.” 

You could tell from the flush in her cheeks, the heaving in her chest, the wetness coating your hands. Melissa was already so close to falling apart. 

“You want it?”

She nodded, eyes glassy and unfocused as you circled her hard clit again and again and again. “Please, please, please, please, please,” she chanted, matching the rhythm of your hand pounding into her. 

“Then take it,” you grunted, using your hips to thrust your fingers up even deeper inside her. 

“Oh my god,” Melissa groaned, head tipping back in total surrender as she stilled above you. Then a gush of wetness coated your hands and she cried out, repeating your name. You watched, transfixed, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from her body, certain you would never be able to get enough of this feeling.

Melissa finally slipped off your hand, slumping in your lap sweaty and spent. You guided her gently down onto the sofa, tucking her against you. 

“Thought I was s’posed to be the one makin’ you feel better,” she slurred. You chuckled, planting a soft kiss on the side of her head. 

“You did.”

Melissa hummed, wrapping her arms around your waist, eyes fluttering shut. Outside, the rain was still falling in heavy sheets. Pulling a blanket down from the back of the sofa, you realized the exhaustion from the weekend was catching up with both of you—and for once, you didn’t feel the need to keep running. 

[sissylittlefeather]

Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: Whaaaaaaat a smutless one-shot? Never have I ever lol. No, but really. This idea came to me and @ccab and I couldn't not write it. This is Elvis during the filming of King Creole and a very shy reader.

Warnings: kissing, an erection, some sexy thoughts, and a foot rub

Word count: ~2.7k

"Y-you want me to do what?" You hold your clipboard to your chest and shake your head nervously. Surely your boss isn't asking you to do what you think he is. You're not even sure how you ended up working on the set of King Creole anyway. Your father must've had something to do with it.

"Go to the hotel and bring Elvis back to the set. I know we told him we were done for the day but we really need him to try on his wardrobe for tomorrow and the costume people just finished it." You understand the logic behind the request. That's not the part that confuses you.

"But why m-me, sir?" You anxiously chew on your bottom lip. It's been hard enough for you to work here with Elvis wandering around. Walking up to him directly is about the last thing you want to do. It's not that you don't like him. Quite the opposite, in fact. You love him. But you've always been a little mousy and shy and unsure of yourself. The idea of talking to him makes you want to crawl into a hole.

"You're young and cute. This assignment is going to really piss him off. We figured you might soften the blow. He can't very well yell at you." You blink several times and your eyes go even wider. The fact that it won't just be Elvis, it'll be angry Elvis, really makes your heart race like a rabbit's.

"W-what if he won't come?"

"Not an option. Convince him. Now, just go." You consider quitting your job right then, but you know that's not realistic. Sighing deeply, you turn to walk from the small office.

"Y/n!"

"Yeah?"

"Clipboard."

"Oh... yeah..." You hand him the clipboard and cross your arms tightly on your chest.

"Y/n. Please try not to look like you're about to cry." You nod your head and try to rearrange your face, but you are about to cry.

******

Somehow, the next thing you know, you're in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels in New Orleans.

"Can you please call Mr. Presley down here? I-I-I need to speak to him." The receptionist nods and calls up to his room. You don't hear the conversation, too distracted by looking around at the fancy decor.

"Alright. I'll let her know." You turn back to the receptionist. "He says you can come on up. He's in the penthouse. Just push the button with the "p" on the elevator."

You stand there with your mouth hanging open and she turns away to do some other task.

No. He was supposed to come down, not you come up. You look at the elevators and swallow deeply. Then, you walk over and push the button.

Once you're on the elevator, it dawns on you that you're going to be walking into what is essentially his home. That thought hits you like a freight train and you feel like you're going to throw up or pass out or both. Just when you decide you're not getting out of the elevator, the doors slide open and there's a quiet ding. The room is carpeted and you see him sitting on a couch.

"Hey, honey, come on in." He hollers without moving. You feel like you're about to die, but you inch your way into the room anyway and the doors close behind you. He leans forward a little and gestures for you to walk towards him. "C'mon then, I won't bite."

You take a few steps into the room and then try to speak. All that comes out is a quiet squeak, though and you shake your head, frustrated with your own incompetence. He can tell you're struggling, so he stands up and walks towards you. That does not help. He's even taller, more attractive, and more intense up close than far away.

"What is it, honey? They send you to fire me or somethin'?" You look up at him and squeak again. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek gently. "You're a shy little thing, ain'tcha?"

"They want you back on set." You breathe a sigh of relief that you were finally able to talk.

"Back on set? No, I'm home for the night." You blink a few times, not really sure how to respond as he shakes his head.

"Please..." It comes out of you as a whispered plea and you want to scream at how pathetic you sound. He smiles softly.

"Okay. But only because you're too damn sweet to say no to." He squeezes the top of your arm and then encourages you toward the elevator with his hand on the small of your back. You really hope he can't feel how sweaty you are as he touches you.

You get back on the elevator and he pushes the button for the lobby. The elevator begins its descent and you stand next to each other in silence. A breath of relaxation washes over you. It's almost over.

Then it happens.

Somewhere between floors 5 and 6 the elevator screeches to a grinding halt. It knocks you off balance enough for him to have to catch you in his arms, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

"Woah, honey, you okay?" You look up at him frozen in fear. He holds you for a few seconds too long and then stands you back up. His hands stay on your upper arms and you swear it's like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

And he doesn't. He rather enjoyed the feeling of you pressed up against him, your eyes wide and seeking reassurance. But he can't just move in and kiss you like he normally does with other girls. You might actually pass out. So instead, he leans his back against the wall of the small elevator and tries to smile at you in the sweetest way possible.

"Do I make you nervous, honey?" You look over at the elevator buttons like pressing one might get you out of this nightmare, but probably not. "Nobody else here. You're gonna have to talk to me."

You reluctantly look up at him and try to breathe steadily. You're finally able to whisper a response.

"Yes." His face breaks into an amused smile.

"Why?"

"Have you met you?!" It comes rushing out of you before you can stop it.

"I'm not sure how to answer that, sweetheart."

"I mean... I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. I'm just not sure I know what you mean is all." For some reason, it's getting a little easier for you to talk to him.

"You're ridiculously famous. You have a presence. And you're unbelievably attr-" You stop yourself and look at the floor, blushing. He steps forward off the wall and tips your chin up, so that you have to look into his face.

"Unbelievably what?" Part of you wants to slap the cocky smirk right off his face, but you'd die before you did that. Finally, you squeak it out.

"Attractive." He steps forward again almost closing the gap between your bodies.

"You know, you're not so bad yourself."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm serious, honey. I'd letcha eat crackers in my bed." Without thinking about it, you burst into a fit of giggles. "It wasn't that funny..."

"I'm sorry; it's just the image of me sitting in your bed eating crackers. Like that's what I'd be doing if I was in your bed." He runs his finger down the side of your face and moves just the smallest bit closer to you.

"What else would you be doing in my bed?" All of a sudden, you're not laughing anymore. Now you're thinking of all the things you might be doing and it makes you blush an even deeper red than you have before. Your heart is going so fast it feels like it might leap out of your chest. He senses your anxiety and backs up a little. "You don't have to answer that, honey. I'm sorry."

He's not used to how delicate you are. It's endearing. Like you need him to take care of you. It's a job that sounds better and better the longer he's on this elevator with you.

You nod and stay quiet, but you kind of miss how close he was to you. His presence, albeit intimidating at first, is comforting.

He turns and slides down the back wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. Then, he pats the floor beside himself. You decide there's not much else to do and he actually seems pretty harmless, so you sit down next to him on the floor and lean back against the wall. It feels good to sit down. You wore new shoes to work today and your feet have been killing you for hours. A small whimper falls from your lips as you try to stretch your feet a bit. You're dying to take the heels off, but you don't want to freak him out.

"What's wrong, honey?" He hears you whimper and his eyebrows come together with concern.

"Oh, nothing. My feet just hurt from these new shoes."

"Take 'em off."

"Really? You don't mind?" He chuckles a little.

"Not at all. There's no tellin' how long we might be stuck in here. Get comfortable." Normally, you'd never do such a thing but your feet do hurt really badly and he's right. You're trapped. You reach down and slowly pull the shoes off of your feet, wincing in pain. Your hose make it look like you have webbed feet, but you really don't care as you gingerly wiggle your toes. He watches you, dying to kiss you. You might be the cutest thing he's ever seen and your feet are so small and pretty.

"Do they hurt bad?"

"Yeah. I shouldn't have worn these today." You tap the shoes together in your hands. "I suppose beauty is pain, though."

He laughs and then an idea settles on him. He's not sure how you'll respond, but it's worth a try.

"You want me to rub 'em?" You look up at him suddenly for three reasons. First, you can't believe he said it. Second, it sounds amazing. And third, there's a hint of something in his voice that almost sounds like uncertainty.

"I couldn't let you do that."

"Why not? I really don't mind and what else are we doin' right now?" The vulnerability on his face melts you and you know you can't say no. You smile bashfully and turn to lean against the other wall and put your feet in his lap.

"Well, alright then. Thank you." He smiles a very natural and relaxed smile and then goes to work massaging one of your feet. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel amazing. His hands are strong and he seems to know what he's doing. You moan a little louder than you intend to, but your feet were so sore that the relief is almost overwhelming. He looks at you when you moan and bites his bottom lip, thanking God that your eyes are closed as his gaze travels down over your figure. If you weren't so shy, he'd probably already have you half undressed. But he kind of likes that you're shy. It's cute and he can't complain about the added challenge. It's almost getting too easy to get girls to say yes.

You spend the next twenty minutes or so like this. He switches feet halfway through, but you sit in silence, moaning and whimpering every once in a while. What you don't know is that you're driving him absolutely crazy with the sounds you're making. If you're this vocal with a foot massage, how might you be in bed? The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine and he shifts to keep your feet away from his erection. Surprisingly, you're the one who breaks the silence. You look up at him and he's looking down at your feet while he works. You can see his eyelashes and for some reason that makes him seem more real.

"What's it like? Being famous?" He takes a deep breath before he answers, not looking up from your feet, like he's trying to decide how honest he should be. He looks up into your eyes intensely.

"Lonesome. I was trying to think of a nicer word, but that's all that comes to mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for everything that's happened. I wouldn't change any of it. But it's really very lonely, not knowing who loves you for you and who loves you for who they think you are."

By the end of it, his voice is thick with emotion and you don't think, you just act. You move back to sitting next to him and entwine your arm with his, taking his left hand in both of yours. He looks down at you as you settle your head onto his shoulder. Something inside him flip-flops and he doesn't feel so alone all of a sudden. He presses his lips to the top of your head gently.

You feel him kiss your hair and are overwhelmed with the need for him to kiss you more. He seems to sense this and tips your chin with his other hand, so that you're looking up into his face. There's only a few inches between his lips and yours and you notice his eyes flicking down as he leans in slowly.

"Can I...?" He asks quietly practically against your lips. This time your whisper is appropriate.

"Yes." He doesn't wait another second to dive into a kiss. It's sweet at first, but before too long, you part your lips and his tongue slides into your mouth. He holds the side of your face and you both sit up and turn towards each other as the kiss deepens. His hand drifts down to your hip and he squeezes it, pulling you towards him gently. You start to lift your leg to climb on top and straddle him, but just as you do, there's a soft ding and the elevator doors slide open.

You gasp and scramble back, wiping your mouth and shoving your shoes back on your feet. He looks at you dumbstruck with how quickly you shifted gears. He's still in the mindset that you're about to crawl in his lap.

"Honey, wait?" He rushes to his feet and tries to smooth his clothing. There's nothing he can do about his massive hard-on, though, so he turns and shoves it up under his belt. He feels you touch him near his hip, but he's too focused on what he's doing to acknowledge it.

By the time the doors open all the way, you're both mostly presentable. He's ushered out of the elevator by a group of his friends and family, led by his manager. You watch as they fuss over him and he makes eye contact with you through the crowd.

He'd give almost anything to be back in that elevator with you to finish what he started. But more than that, he already misses the feeling of companionship. The heavy weight of loneliness is starting to settle in his chest again. He looks down and back up and you're gone.

******

You wipe the tears from your face as you make your way back to your car outside the hotel. If only the doors hadn't opened. What might've happened? Oh well. You'll never know. It's up to him now.

******

Elvis manages to keep it together long enough to assure everyone he's fine, do the wardrobe check, and get back to his hotel. He stands in front of the elevator when it opens and seriously considers taking the stairs to the penthouse. But he doesn't. Instead he steps onto the elevator and slides his hands in his pockets as the doors close.

He gasps softly.

Out of his pocket he pulls a small silver bracelet. It's not his. It must be yours. You must've slipped it into his pocket while you put yourselves back together when the doors opened. He turns over the little silver pendant and finds your first and last name in script.

He smiles widely and kisses the bracelet. Looking up, he whispers.

"Thank you."

He's not sure if he's talking to you or God. Maybe both. Either way, now he can find you. He steps off the elevator and heads into his bedroom.

The pieces of his heart start to come back together and he sets your bracelet on his nightstand.

Tomorrow. He'll find you tomorrow.

******

The End?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[tawked]

I'm being kind of glib about Barbara Gordon's choice of secret hiddeouts in relation to her disability, but tbh it's always been funny to me in an "ableds writing disableds" way that her choices for secret bases are, in order:

the second floor of an ancient tower that only seems to have stairs and an elevator, so when she's doxxed by the bad men and her power is cut, or the whole city is ravaged by an earthquake and again the power is cut, she's like, uh. Like what's the plan babe

a converted freight ship, which is so wheelchair inaccessible that when she's doxxed here she has to belt up her legs and scuttle around on the ceilings like a horror movie monster. Which is badass, yes, but like...

notice the water-sealing rise at the base? These doors exist to say "fuck you" to water and wheelchair users in equal measure. C'mon Babs, you can hide in a rental storage joint just as easily.

a luxury plane. This one's a little more involved so let me explain! The second they hit hard turbulence or Lady Blackhawk needs to dodge a missile or something (a reasonable concern for superheroes in planes), Barbara is in unnecessary danger lol. Either that or she'd be in a secured position, either locked in (see below), or she'd likely move from her chair to one of the stationary seats in the jet. And that kinda defeats the purpose, right? This is a secret base she's even less likely to be able to move around in than her Clock Tower apartment.

I think all of this could be really cool if it were used as a commentary on mobility in any meaningful way. Barring a few handholds around her bed and a bar in her bathroom, Barbara's environments aren't really adapted for her. But it's kinda just done thoughtlessly tbh.

idk what anything with Barbara after the New 52 is like because I just haven't read it. I don't even know if she's currently a wheelchair user or not, so maybe this is a null issue right now, but I will never resist the opportunity to complain about Chuck Dixon so

[m4rv3l-girl]

https://youtu.be/T_VcDbPon4s?si=3htb3msk-ozJv-8w

Bucky x reader based on this

Bucky sees reader and instantly feels a connection but doesn't see her again until Tony announces that he has a new assistant and its reader!!

Somewhere In Brooklyn

Warnings: none

The winter sun was setting behind the buildings of Brooklyn, casting long shadows over the streets as Bucky Barnes walked down the familiar sidewalks. He stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, trying to ward off the biting chill that seeped through his gloves. The streets were quieter than usual, punctuated only by the occasional honk of a taxi or the chatter of passersby.

He had been out for hours, trying to escape the four walls of the compound. It wasn’t often he ventured into the city alone, but something about today had pulled him out. Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was just the need to feel something beyond the constant hum of missions and training. Whatever it was, it had led him here.

And then he saw her.

She was standing outside a small café, her head tilted back as she laughed at something her friend had said. He only caught the woman beside her saying “Y/N, seriously?” while giggling. The sound of her laughter didn’t carry to him, but the sight of her was enough to make him pause mid-step.

She was wrapped in a thick scarf, her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her hands cradling a steaming cup of coffee. There was something about her - something that made the world around him blur into nothing.

Bucky wasn’t one for believing in fate or destiny. His life had been too harsh, too brutal for such fanciful notions. But in that moment, as she glanced up and her eyes briefly met his, he felt something shift. Her smile faltered for the briefest second, her brows knitting together as if she recognized him. Then she turned back to her friend, and the moment was gone.

Bucky didn’t know how long he stood there, staring after her. By the time he shook himself out of his stupor, she was walking away, disappearing into the crowded streets. He wanted to call out, to follow her, but his feet were rooted to the ground. The metal fingers of his left hand twitched in his pocket, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake.

“Get a grip, Barnes,” he muttered under his breath.

For days after, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes had seemed to pierce right through him—it was all he could think about. He told himself it was ridiculous, that she was just a stranger. But logic didn’t stop the ache of wanting to see her again.

Weeks passed, and life went on as usual. Missions came and went, the team bickered and bonded, and Bucky fell back into the rhythm of his new normal. He tried to push thoughts of her away, but she lingered in the corners of his mind, a constant, gentle presence that he couldn’t shake.

Then, one morning, everything changed.

Tony Stark sauntered into the common room, his usual swagger intact as he clapped his hands together. “Listen up, everyone. We’ve got a new team member joining us today.”

Steve glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. “Another recruit?”

“Not quite,” Tony said, smirking. “My new assistant. She’s brilliant, organized, and, most importantly, she actually likes me. Unlike the rest of you ingrates.”

“Hard to believe,” Natasha muttered, earning a chuckle from Clint.

Bucky didn’t pay much attention to the exchange. He was nursing a cup of coffee, his thoughts elsewhere. It wasn’t until Tony said her name that his head snapped up.

“Y/N should be here any minute,” Tony continued. “Try not to scare her off, okay?”

The name hit him like a freight train. His heart started pounding, and his grip on the mug tightened. It couldn’t be. It was a common enough name, wasn’t it? But as if summoned by some cosmic twist of fate, the elevator doors dinged, and she stepped out.

It was her.

She looked slightly different from the last time he’d seen her—dressed in professional attire, her hair neatly styled—but there was no mistaking her. She was just as radiant, just as breathtaking as she had been that day in Brooklyn.

“Everyone, meet Y/N,” Tony announced, gesturing grandly. “She’s going to make sure I actually show up to meetings on time and don’t blow up the lab. A Herculean task, I know.”

Y/N offered a small smile, her gaze sweeping over the group. When her eyes landed on Bucky, they widened slightly, recognition flashing across her face.

“Hi,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Bucky stood frozen, his mind racing. Did she remember him? Or was he just another face in the sea of strangers she encountered every day? He wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

Steve, ever the gentleman, stepped forward and shook her hand. “Welcome to the team. I’m Steve.”

The rest of the introductions followed, each of the team members taking turns to greet her. When it was finally Bucky’s turn, he felt like his heart might leap out of his chest.

“Bucky,” he said simply, holding out his hand.

Her fingers brushed against his as they shook, and he swore he felt a jolt of electricity. Her smile was polite, but there was something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe? Or was it recognition?

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

For the rest of the day, Bucky couldn’t focus on anything. Every time she walked into the room, his gaze would flicker to her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was so close, yet so far, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn’t explain. She was smart and kind, with a quiet confidence that made her stand out. She treated everyone with respect, even Tony when he was being insufferable, and she had a way of making people feel at ease.

He started finding excuses to be around her—helping her carry files to the lab, offering to grab coffee when she looked stressed, lingering in the common room when he knew she’d be there. Slowly but surely, they began to talk. Small conversations at first—about work, about Brooklyn, about anything and everything. And with each passing day, Bucky felt himself falling deeper and deeper.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, she turned to him, her expression thoughtful. “I feel like I’ve seen you before,” she said. “Before I started working here.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “You were at a café in Brooklyn a couple of months ago,” he admitted. “I saw you there.”

Her eyes widened. “That was you?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. “I wanted to say something, but…I didn’t.”

A smile slowly spread across her face, warm and genuine. “Well, you’re saying something now.”

And just like that, Bucky felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. Maybe fate wasn’t such a fanciful notion after all.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you want another part! 🫶

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Incredible 5 story 1896 mid-rise in St. Louis, MO was converted to a single family residence. An office/showroom on the 2nd floor provides a space that facilitates living and working in the same building. 2bds, 4ba, 10,691 sq ft, $1.299m. The front of this building is a beautiful art nouveau style.

Enter directly into what used to be a bar.

And, this is your living room. Beautiful walls and ceilings, plus a magnificent fireplace.

And, for entertaining, it also has a full bar.

Look at the balcony.

The 2nd fl. The building has an elevator for all 5 floors, so you don't have to take the stairs.

The office and conference room on the 2nd fl.

Looks like they really upgraded the stairs.

This is the current owner's showroom. It would make a nice gallery.

On this floor you can see that the elevator is a freight elevator. Nice marble floor and stone walls up here.

This is beautiful. The whole place resembles a castle.

Look at this kitchen. Magnificent hood and backsplash over the stove.

What a beautiful railing. The dining area is gorgeous. Looks like a high-end pub.

The architectural features are stunning.

After dinner relax in front of this amazing fireplace.

And, down here is a TV room with home theater seating.

And, when you're tired, just climb 2 steps and go to bed.

The bath on this floor is unique.

This is the rear entrance to the building, right by the freight elevator.

The rear entrance is like a loading dock, so any furniture can be conveniently brought thru here and into the elevator.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1112-Olive-St-Saint-Louis-MO-63101/241527862_zpid/

[lyracarvahall]

HeartBeat Sync Part 10

Baggage and Beginnings

Part 9 Here

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ass grabbing, female masturbation

Everybody started heading back to their own rooms in order to finish packing and to get ready. As the last of the men filed out, Yunho filed out at the back of the group. Y/N quickly pulled him back into the room by the wrist and closed the door. Pinning him against the door, she kissed him fiercely.

"I'm sorry. I just feel like we didn't get enough time earlier." Y/N blushed deeply and looked up at Yunho through her eyelashes.

"Nothing to forgive. I mean, I also felt like we were interrupted. As much as I want to finish what we started, we have to get going. We have 20 minutes and that is not nearly enough time for all I want to do with you." He winked, smirked, and grabbed her curvaceous ass with his large hands, pulling her closer. "But when we have the time, be ready for me." With one more fierce kiss and a light bite on her lower lip, he quickly slid out the door, leaving Y/N panting at the doorway.

"Fuck..." she whispered to herself before running to the bathroom to take a much needed shower. Taking off her clothes, she took a peek at the floor-length mirror and gasped. This was the first time that she was able to fully look at the soul marks on her body. Though she still had parts she was insecure about, they made her feel beautiful.

Wooyoung's mark on her ankle resembled a vine wrapping around it a couple of times with the bottom ending at the ball of her foot. The outside of the right hand had thick scrollwork for Jongho almost resembling a musical clef . Turning to her other side, Mingi's mark ran across her left hip, part of her ass, and a little up her side and looked like a series of geometric grids. Her left bicep was lined with asymmetrical zigzag lines Where San's light butterflies had landed. Yunho's delicate branches graced her left wrist and hand. Turning around and peeking over her shoulder, she saw Hongjoong's wings once again and also swirling lines up her spine for Yeosang. Each mark shimmered in technicolor when they hit the harsh hotel bathroom lights.

Realizing how long she had been standing there gawking at herself, she quickly jumped into the shower, trying to quickly clean herself up. Suddenly, while rinsing out her hair, pleasure hit her like a freight train. It took her a second, but she realized it was Yunho. He must have felt as heated by their earlier encounter as she had.

Unable to resist, she began to lower her hand down her body, feeling extra sensitive as her hand dragged across her moist skin. Once she reached the junction of her thighs, she felt lust from all of her bonds. They must have felt her and realized what she was up to. Rubbing fast circles on her clit, she knew with all of these sensations it would not take long for her to get off at all. Doubling her efforts, the orgasm came fast and sudden. With a loud gasp, Y/N had to hold onto the rail in the shower to keep from collapsing as her legs were trying to give out. That was hands down the best orgasm of her life. She couldn't even imagine how it would feel once she could be with her soulmates in their entirety.

Blushing at that thought, she hurriedly finished rinsing her hair and body and stepped out of the shower. Towel-drying her hair the best that she could, she rushed to get dressed in ripped skinny jeans and realized she only had ATEEZ concert staff shirts and not any other staff uniform. Throwing on the shirt she wore yesterday and hoping it didn't smell too bad, she zipped up her luggage, grabbed her purse, and headed out of the door.

Quickly pulling her suitcase into the hallway, she saw the members and tour staff standing in the hallway. She had the feeling they had all been waiting on her.

"Sorry everyone." Bashfully finger-combing out her wet hair, she turned to head towards the elevator. Several staff members reached the doors before her and took the first elevator down.

Suddenly she felt her bonds surrounding her. Her hair was suddenly grabbed and yanked to the side. With a nibble to her ear, she heard a husky whisper, "Hey there my naughty girl. I wish I could have seen it. Did you think of me?" She realized it was Wooyoung who had caught her. Releasing a small gasp, she felt the lust from everyone as she watched the interaction.

"I felt you, Woo." With that he darkly chucked and released her hair, gently shoving her butt forward as the elevator door opened. She realized he must have pushed the button as he had embraced her. Smooth sir....well played.

As she rapidly walked into the elevator, she tried to hide how embarrassed she was. The other members quickly filed in and it was then that she noticed Seonghwa's bright blond hair on the complete opposite corner of the elevator. She felt the anxiety crawling across her skin and he quickly caught her gaze. He looked empty and withdrawn. As she felt the tears well up in her eyes, she saw a flash of guilt cross his face. Just then, the elevator dinged.

Seonghwa wasted no time rushing out of the elevator without looking back. The cloud of anxiety lifted but she was suddenly flooded with sadness as she realized she wasn't sure on how to fix this when he wouldn't even look at her.

With a deep sigh, she trailed after the group dragging her rolling suitcases. San gently took the bag from her hand and dragged it, gently rubbing her back in the last few seconds of privacy they had. "It will be okay baby."

With that it went back to professional mode. She was their security and trailed behind them. Making sure they got into their vehicles and hopping in the van behind them. This vehicle contained San, Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang. She again found herself in the back row wedged between Jongho and San. Without hesitation, Y/N curled up to San's broad frame and cried silent tears. She knew he could still feel her sadness though because he wrapped an arm around her and held her close as the tears quietly fell from her eyes.

"We will figure it out honey. I know it is rough but we are here for you."

Y/N sniffled and looked up into his kind and gentle eyes. "Thank you San." He reached up and softly wiped her remaining tears away, fluttering his lips against hers. A twinge of jealousy came from her right and after kissing San's nose, she turned to face Jongho.

"I am sorry Jongho." She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in it. He visibly relaxed and rubbed both hands up and down Y/N's back.

"It's ok sweetheart." He laid a sweet kiss on her forehead. Y/N felt the need to be closer to Jongho, especially after their rough start that they had. Unwinding from his embrace, she took his right hand in hers and began to stroke his soul mark. He let out a swift exhale and bant down to give her a kiss. Y/N deepened the kiss and felt his infatuation rise within the bond.

Just then the vehicle began to move and it jostled everyone in their seats. Y/N giggled lightly and rested her head on Jongho's shoulder, placing her left hand in San's open palm. He squeezed her hand back and began stroking her hand with his thumb.

"What is the game plan? Where are we going?"

"To the airport. We have a private plane waiting for us." Jongho stated.

Y/N began to think about the closed quarters of the airplane and how close in proximity Seonghwa would be forced to be with her. She decided to risk it for a biscuit and send him a message. Finding his contact from earlier in the group chat, she hoped that this didn't backfire.

After a few minutes of no response, Y/N decided to let it go for now. She said what she needed to and that would just have to be enough. While her phone was in her hands, she decided to check her social media. It had been a couple of days and she was scared about what kind of backlash awaited her. There were a LOT more followers. She now sat at around 60,000 followers! Considering there were about 5k before this trip started this was a HUGE leap. Looking through the follower list she noticed that all of ATEEZ's individual accounts had followed her, including Seonghwa's. It gave her a bit of hope. A couple of them had even liked some of her photos. Maybe THIS was the reason for her following increase. There was one post of her singing one of her tracks from several months ago. Of course it was an obscure video only showing her hand on the microphone. Hongjoong left a comment with heart eyes and music notes emojis. Seonghwa left one that simply said "Wow..."

Y/N flushed that they had found her music and hoped that they really liked it, especially since they were trusting her to make their new album.

The car came to a sudden stop and she realized it was because they had reached a security gate for a private tarmac. Once they cleared the gate they came to a small white jet. The other van was already pulled up and luggage and members were being loaded. Making her way up the stairs, Yeosang offered her a hand to guide her.

"Thank you Yeosang." She smiled widely at him and squeezed his hand. She felt happiness slam into the bond. It was super contagious and she couldn't help but feed off his joy.

She found herself sitting right near the plane exit next to Yeosang in some comfy reclining seats. As she settled in her seat, her phone buzzed.

Fresh tears started to well in her eyes and she looked around the plane to find Seonghwa. She found him at the very back of the plane sitting with Hongjoong and Mingi. He glanced at her briefly but that look told her everything she needed to know. He did care. This was a start and Y/N was holding onto that ounce of hope with every ounce of strength she had.

Taglist: @mrsminseochoi

Part 11 Here

[sabrinajenre96]

Title: In Sickness and In Sleuth

Paring: Conrad Hawkins x Reader

Warning: this story contains some adults content mention of blood and murder and strong language. Read it on your discretion

Word Count: ~8,000

Author note: I created a one shot story about two favorite tv shows that I like " The resident" and "Will Trent" . I made a crossover since both shows are implemented in Atlanta, Georgia. You can share and like my work but don't steal it and make it your own. I was inspired by an episode of Will Trent in season 3 .

The storm rolled into Atlanta like a freight train, darkening the sky and flooding the streets. Power outages flickered in various neighborhoods, emergency services stretched thin. But within the halls of Chastain Park Memorial Hospital, the real storm was just beginning.

Special Agent Y/N Hawkins of the GBI stepped through the sliding glass doors of the hospital with her partner Will Trent at her side and APD detective Angela Polaski following close behind. Y/N's dark hair was pulled into a braid, GBI windbreaker zipped high. A quiet intensity radiated from her. As always, she and Will moved in perfect sync, not needing words to communicate. Their minds already raced ahead.

"We need eyes on Lena Santiago," Y/N said, glancing at her phone. "She’s the nurse who reported the incident. She's the key to this whole thing."

Angela frowned. "And now she’s gone off the grid."

Y/N’s gaze hardened. "That’s not a coincidence."

---

Inside Chastain, Dr. Conrad Hawkins was already several patients deep into his shift. He glanced up from a chart just in time to see his wife walk in with Will and Angie, their faces set in stone.

“Hey,” he called softly, walking over. “Storm chasers now?”

Y/N barely cracked a smile. “Just chasing something uglier than lightning.”

She pecked him on the cheek quickly. Conrad's brow furrowed at the tension in her shoulders.

“GBI business?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Will said cryptically, already scanning the area.

---

Elsewhere in the hospital, Amanda Wagner arrived with Evelyn Mitchell and Ava Barnes in tow. The three retired powerhouses weren’t exactly the trio you’d expect in a murder investigation—but they weren’t the type to sit on the sidelines either.

“Ava,” Amanda muttered, “tell me again why you’re tagging along?”

Ava smirked. “My daughter’s working this case. And Faith’s working it too. Like hell I’m missing the action.”

Evelyn patted Amanda on the shoulder. “Admit it. You missed us.”

Amanda didn’t answer.

---

Just after noon, the storm struck hard, and Chastain initiated lockdown protocol.

Y/N, Will, and Angie were in the elevator heading toward the third floor when it shuddered to a halt.

“Please don’t tell me we’re stuck,” Angie said.

The flickering overhead lights blinked out and came back with a pop.

Then something hit the elevator roof with a sickening thump.

A red, viscous substance began dripping through the seam in the ceiling panel.

“Blood,” Y/N whispered.

Will’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw clenched.

Y/N stepped into action. “Angie, help me up. Will, boost me. I need to see what’s up there."

“You sure?” Angie asked.

“Yes.”

Y/N popped the panel open. The copper tang hit her nostrils instantly.

“Dammit.”

“What is it?” Will called.

Y/N looked down, pale. “It’s Lena.”

The elevator doors opened at that moment, and they sprinted to the nurses' station.

Conrad, Nic, Devon, Faith, Amanda, Ava, Evelyn, Dr. Bell—all gathered.

Y/N, out of breath, looked at her mother. "She’s dead. Lena—the witness. She was on top of the elevator."

Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me—?”

“Yes,” Will and Y/N said at once.

“The killer is here,” Y/N confirmed. “In the hospital. During lockdown.”

Nic clutched Devin’s arm. "What does this mean?"

Will, Y/N, and Angie replied in eerie unison: "We’re trapped with a serial killer."

---

The team split up. Will and Y/N’s group: Ava, Evelyn, Conrad, Devon, Nic, Faith, and Dr. Bell, who insisted he had a right to know what was happening in his hospital. Amanda led the second group with Michael Ormewood and Angie.

Faith pulled Nic aside briefly. “Try not to let them freak you out.”

“Who?”

She nodded toward Will and Y/N, who were already speaking rapidly in shorthand, both sketching timelines, theories, connecting clues.

“Those two,” Faith said. “They move like one brain. It's spooky. Welcome to my life.”

Y/N and Will began to reconstruct the timeline. Conrad watched as his wife moved through the halls like a force of nature, not a trace of hesitation in her movements.

“You’ve never seen her work before?” Faith asked.

“Not like this,” Conrad admitted.

Ava and Evelyn, meanwhile, traded theories with Nic and Devon, almost cheerily.

“I forgot how fun this could be,” Ava said, eyes alight.

---

Hours passed. The group reconvened in the stairwell.

Y/N knelt beside a trail of smudged shoe prints.

“Blood. Fresh,” she murmured.

Will crouched beside her. “There’s something else. Look—”

He plucked a tiny metal pin from the corner where the stairwell met the wall. A brass flag pin.

Faith stepped forward. “Oh no. I know that look.”

“What look?” Conrad asked.

“The look they get right before dropping a bomb.”

Y/N turned to the group slowly.

“That’s a DA’s flag pin. Only worn by state prosecutors.”

Faith took a deep breath. “You’re not saying—?”

Will nodded grimly. “The DA. He’s the killer.”

Gasps rippled through the group.

Ava stepped forward, stunned. “Why would the DA—?”

Y/N answered, grim. “Every woman we traced—each of them rejected him. Lena’s friend—his first victim—turned him down after he gave her the creeps. Lena knew. That’s why she was killed.”

“We’ve been chasing a cold case killer and a predator hiding in plain sight,” Will added.

Faith swore. “We need to move. Now.”

---

They sprinted back to the main lobby. Amanda, Angie, and Michael raised their weapons at the sight of Will and Y/N entering with urgency.

“What is it now?” Amanda asked.

Will and Y/N pointed in unison. “It’s him. The DA. He’s the killer.”

A commotion erupted behind them. Screams.

The DA emerged, blood smeared on his coat, holding nurse Ada Moreno hostage.

Everyone froze.

Amanda’s voice was firm. “Don’t do this.”

The DA laughed. “You think I’d go down over this? I did what needed to be done. They were all ungrateful. Entitled. They owed me.”

Y/N stepped forward, calm and unflinching.

“Let her go,” she said, slowly approaching.

“Don’t come closer!”

“I understand you,” Y/N said gently. “You felt invisible. Rejected. You needed control. But you never had any. You’re afraid.”

“Shut up!”

Will moved silently to flank him while Y/N continued her psychological takedown.

“Every woman who said no to you proved you weren’t powerful. That’s why you had to kill them. But here? Right now? You have no control. Just desperation.”

The DA hesitated.

Y/N saw her chance. A clean shot.

She took it.

The bullet hit his shoulder, spinning him backward. Ada was released, scrambling into Amanda’s arms. Michael cuffed him as backup poured in.

---

The storm passed. Lockdown lifted. Emergency lights powered off.

Devon was practically bouncing. “That was—insane. I feel like I need a cigarette. And I don’t smoke!”

Faith chuckled. “Welcome to murder investigations.”

Bell blinked, stunned. “I run a hospital. This is not in my job description.”

Amanda deadpanned. “You think this was bad? You should’ve seen ‘92.”

---

That night, Y/N stood under the hot stream of the shower, scrubbing blood and adrenaline from her skin. Steam curled around her as she let the chaos of the day wash away.

When she stepped out, Conrad was already in bed, shirtless, watching her with a look somewhere between admiration and disbelief.

“You are…” he began. “Something else.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I scare you a little?”

“A little.”

She crawled into bed beside him, stretching out. “You’ve seen me in scrubs. Today you saw me in predator mode.”

“I kind of loved it.”

“Yeah?”

He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. “Absolutely. But remind me never to lie to you.”

Y/N laughed, curling into him.

“Too late. I already know when you’re lying,” she teased.

He grinned. “Terrifying.”

“Hot?”

“Definitely.”

They dissolved into laughter and kisses, the storm behind them now just another chapter in their unpredictable lives.

But one thing was certain.

There was no safer place to be than in each other’s arms—even when the world outside raged with chaos.

---

END.

[ask-nurse-curly]

[transcript under the cut]

Hi

Wait how do- ah! Hi Curly

Hello! Sorry, didn't want to send a longer message in case it woke you up if you were sleeping.

How are you doing?

I’m okay, I just got my pain killers so I’ll be up for a bit.

I’m doing good, it’s very loud in my room.

How are you?

Loud? How come?

I'm okay, bit of a headache so I'm up for now too.

I’m not sure. I mentioned to the nurse and she said it was quiet. I’m assuming I’m just focusing on the noise of the machines..

I’m sorry for your headache, we can always trade.

They are pretty noisy, huh.

I would readily trade.

Shut up, you’re not allowed trade with me.

Are you laying down?

I got up to crack the window open. I've been lying down for too long I think. At least the night is nice.

Do you need anything? I can find someone to pester about that noise.

I wish I could open my window. Frowny face.

But that’s okay, I don’t need anything right now.

...I could come open it? If you would like.

I don’t want to ask that of you, you should be resting as well.

But I wouldn’t mind your company, if you were to be so kind as to grant it to me.

If you keep me company while I'm getting there?

I'm due for my halftime stroll around the wing anyway.

Stubborn as always, I see.

I can keep you company, I may have to move things around my busy schedule for it, but I can. Smiley face.

I appreciate your consideration. :-)

Let's see if I can beat the record. If I got my shift schedules right, the coast should be pretty clear.

Don’t get caught, I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to lose my Curly visits.

I heard footsteps past my door going the opposite direction, I think you’re clear over here.

Guess I'll just have to learn how to scale walls if they throw me out.

I think we should be good though. The nurses like me for some reason, especially on your floor.

I’ll make sure my window is always open for you.

I like my nurses, they’re kind. All my nurses. Wink.

You've got a really good team looking after you, I'm very glad.

Okay, resting up for a sec before I brave the stairs.

Use the elevator?

You’re insane for taking the stairs.

The freight lift needs a key card to operate, and the normal human ones are right by the nurse station.

If you want me not to come because I get caught you can just say so. :-)

Never! Sorry, wait, you can’t hear my volume.

But I want you to come. I’ll make space in my bed so you can rest when you get here.

I would hate to crowd you. I'm sure the usual chair would be just fine, yeah?

Made it up the stairs! If you heard something clatter, no you didn't.

I made the offer, Curly. I’ve already awkwardly shuffled, you can’t reject me now.

Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard something… Smile.

The awkward shuffling is a compelling argument. It will be considered.

Hey, so long as Steve didn't hear it, I swear that guy is half bat.

I don’t think Steve is working tonight. I thought his daughter had a ballet recital. He said he’d tell me all about it but maybe I have the days messed up.

Oh! Right, right. I'm the one who got them mixed up. Could've sworn...

Doesn't matter. I'm going for that final stretch. See you in a bit?

Take breaks as needed and remember our secret knock or I’m not letting you in.

See you soon, Curly. Har.

[stalkedbytrains]

Cold Black Iron and Green Fire: Apartment, Hunting

[prompt from eekwinn: Prompt: apartment hunting and finding a weird place to live]

Melthana was finally cleared to leaving the halfway house and she was so desperate to leave that she went with the first apartment she was offered.

It's not like she was a great candidate for any apartments. Fresh out of rehab, therapy, and still under investigation for the massive attacks and murders she may or many not have been justified in committing.

Maybe that's why she wasn't surprised when the landlord told her that the apartment was on the third floor, no elevator, and the building was deeply haunted.

"Can't afford the exorcist?" Melthana asked tersely. She felt Sarah scratching her under her skin, demanding to be let out. Demanding a cigarette and a drink. Both things Melthana swore off but desperately wanted.

"No, exorcist won't do it," the old man said lamely. "There's an exposed brick wall, goes right through the middle of the apartment. The ghost is bound to the wall. Can't take out the ghost without weakening the wall, need the wall to hold up the building. So. No exorcist. Haunted apartment. You want it or not?"

"Probably," Melthana said. She was desperate to find a place to live that wasn't that goddamn halfway house. She needed the freedom and absence of rules and wards. "I want to at least see inside of it first."

The apartment itself was bare as hell, with almost nothing in it.

Sure enough the exposed brick wall right inside of the apartment through the door was radiating cold and malice.

The landlord seemed to refuse to enter the apartment. Which was an added bonus for Melthana.

It was small, but it was good enough.

"Yeah, I'll take it," Melthana said.

She finally had a place. She could move out of that miserable sober house, she could have her life back for the first time in years.

Moving in was a depressing affair. All Melthana had was her one backpack worth of clothes, a single pillow, and a sleeping bag. She didn't even have a bed. All of the stuff from her old life was still in her storage locker.

The first night was surprisingly hard.

Melthana desperately wanted a drink and a smoke. Well, Sarah wanted them. And Melthana was working really hard to kill her and bury her deep inside herself.

The shower in the apartment was surprisingly good.

But Melthana couldn't spend too much time in the bathroom. She didn't recognize herself or her body any longer. She had too many tattoos that lied too much. She wanted them all gone, but she couldn't just undo all of them like that. That and she'd had to shave her head when she came back. Maybe she didn't have to shave her head, but the compulsion that she had made it seem like she desperately needed to shave her head to cut herself off from anything and everything Sarah was.

The peach fuzz hair was still annoying to Melthana, and considering her new apartment seemed to always be cold as the depths of one of the infinite hells, her head was freezing.

Fuck, she missed her hair.

Trying to get to sleep was a tough prospect. Every time she started to fall asleep, she had terrible visions. Horrifying, terrifying, freighting images behind her eyes.

All of which she was used to.

It was the ghostly presence that was draining her the entire time that was new.

The temperature dropped by a dozen degrees while she was trying to sleep on the floor, and she felt a frozen grip on her ribs.

When Melthana finally gave up on sleep at about 4am, she saw before her a ghostly image hovering before her.

She waved her hand through the ghost, forcing it to dissipate.

Without anything else to do, Melthana rolled over, letting out a rolling wave of green fire from her wellspring of magic within her, forcing the ghost to leave her alone.

Maybe if she just lay there, she'd find sleep eventually.

But the ghost, briefly repelled by Melthana's powerful magic, was perturbed at this new person who was a tempting snack.

The ghost reformed slowly over the next hour or so.

Just as Melthana fell asleep for the first time, her dreams immediately turned to nightmares, fueled by the machinations of a ghost.

The nightmares were familiar. They were lived experiences that she was still wrestling with.

The nightmares were empty.

But when the ghost manipulated them to make them worse, when it showed Melthana her dead husband to scare and torture her, it only made Melthana mad.

The rage that came from this cloying torture, Melthana ripped herself out of the empty nightmare landscape that the ghost tried to trap her in.

The cold green fire around her burned, melting and freezing her sleeping bag.

She stood up out of the now ruined sleeping bag.

The ghost was pleased. This new tenant was annoying, obnoxious. A plaything at best. Someone they could drive out in less than a day.

But when Melthana stood up to confront it, to confront the brick wall that was the source, the ghost realized it's mistake.

The cold green fire burned all around her. It cast long shadows, dark shadows.

And in those shadows was something much much bigger, darker, and more powerful than this one powerful ghost.

Realizing that it had picked a fight with something much more ancient than itself, the ghost tried to retreat into the wall. The brick wall would protect it. This new woman wouldn't dare break down the wall and collapse the building. So the ghost was safe.

Until Melthana started to punch the brick wall. Her hands wreathed in magic fire, she punched and she punched the bricks.

The figure in the shadows looked on without eyes and empowered it's chosen avatar with the power to punch through bricks.

It took only a few minutes for Melthana to break through. Sure enough she finally found the body. A skeleton all but merged with brick and concrete and mortar and rebar.

Having finally gotten deep enough into the wall to see the source of her torment, Melthana smiled a smile that was mostly a snarl.

The ghost tried to flee, but there was no where else to go. It's body was here, in the wall now exposed. It tried to put the bricks back together but the green fire stopped their efforts.

In an attempt to indimidate the ghost into total submission, Melthana grabbed the one other thing that she had in her new apartment that wasn't a destroyed sleeping bag. Her black iron font of magic that was like three skulls melted together and wreathed in magic fire. It was where she got her magic from. It was the source of her magic that grew stronger from fear and secrets.

So she put it in front of the corpse. Her magic font, the empty, dead eye sockets forged in metal starring into the dead face of her new tormentor. She couldn't explain why she did it. It was something that seemed right. A form of intimidation against a dead thing that she couldn't remove.

When she calmed down enough, Melthana realized she had destroyed part of her new apartment and it was probably going to be a whole thing with her landlord.

But it was almost 6am. That was a future problem. In the meantime, Melthana could at least go get some coffee since she was awake and was going to have to deal with this whole damn problem.

Ugh, and the worst part of it was that Melthana was going to have to put on pants, but she only had the one pair she wore yesterday.

The second that Melthana left her new apartment before the sun even rose, the ghost was fucked.

The entity that was the true source of Melthana's powers made its move. The black iron and cold green fire moved of it's own accord. It attacked Melthana's new tormentor.

The ghost tried to stand against it, but there was nothing at all it could possibly do. This entity was bigger, more powerful, and more ancient than this ghost could ever hope to be.

It didn't stand a chance.

When Melthana returned, she found her font sitting in the middle of the room, on top of the frozen and melted sleeping bag. The hole she punched in the wall was put back together.

She took a long sip of her overly caffeinated, overly sugary, coffee drink as she tried to figure out what happened.

Without apparent answers, Melthana touched the wall with one finger. Instantly she got a splitting headache and saw visions of her least favorite place, the empty void she sat in for entirely too much time.

But this time the visions faded when she stopped touching it.

The ghost was gone. And it seemed like the wall wasn't going to come down on Melthana's head.

She was going to have to count it as a win. And she was going to have to get some stuff.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

It’s hard to be strong, sometimes.

“Nothing’s gonna fix me.”

Billy can do the heavy lifting. Can pull the freight with nothing but the sweat on his back to show for it.

“I’m jus’ gonna hurt forever.”

But this?

He isn’t strong enough for this.

“You aren’t,” he coos. “I won’t let you.”

A strained little sob hiccups out of Steve, and he simply shakes his head. The veins running up the length of his neck thump fast with his pulse, rising to the surface of his flushed skin. Tense and angry, like his eyebrows, pinched together harshly no matter how much Billy shushes and croons at him.

He’s got Steve’s face buried in his chest, shirt completely damp around the collar, and Steve’s fists tangles weakly at the sides.

Right now is probably the calmest he’s been all afternoon since this started.

Billy buries his nose in Steve’s hair and closes his eyes, arms wrapped softly around him. Grounding him in place. Smoothing carefully over his back, wary of pressing lest he cause another river of tears.

“Why does something that’s supposed to help hurt so bad?” Steve whines.

As much as Billy wants to squeeze him as tight as he can, he doesn’t. Instead settles one of his hands against Steve’s head, holding his cheek to his chest and gently stroking his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know,” Billy admits. “Sometimes stuff doesn’t work, and you find out the shitty way.”

Steve huffs and makes a frustrated, pained sound into Billy’s shirt that’s followed by a warm wetness soaking into the fabric. Billy shushes into his hair again.

He wishes he could take the ache away. Wishes he could, even for just a moment, see what it feels like.

What could hurt so fucking bad that it has Steve crumbling into a mess of throaty sobs? Steve, who has been knocked around like a ragdoll and simply dusted himself off after?

“‘M gonna hurt forever,” he whines again.

Digs his forehead into Billy’s chest, shifting and rocking himself softly on top of him like he’s trying to physically shake the pain off, and Billy urges him to lie still with a gentle hand on his back.

“You won’t, it’ll pass.”

He tries to say it with certainty, but there’s a slight rasp in his voice to match the mist gathering in his eyes. Even when he gets Steve to fall still again.

“It hurts.”

“What hurts?”

A shaky sob leaves Steve’s lips as he curls his fingers tighter in Billy’s shirt at his sides.

“Everything,” he urges.

Presses himself down hard, muscles tense, like he’s trying to smother himself. Billy keeps his hand smoothing delicately up and down his back.

“I know, baby. Just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve’s muscles shake from the effort, but he eventually listens. Inhales a shallow breath and sighs it out, drawing another one in as slow as he can manage with his elevated heart rate.

It takes a few moments, but his grip eventually eases again. He sniffles and nudges his face against Billy’s ruined shirt, huffing softly.

“It hurts,” he rasps, voice just above a whisper.

“I know, Stevie.” Billy noses a kiss into the brunet’s hair. “I know.”

They lay there like that for a while. Steve eventually tires himself out, nodding off on top of Billy even though he’s still crying. Too emotionally and physically exhausted to stay awake through the pain.

Billy just holds him. Lays his head back on the pillow once Steve’s breathing finally evens out and exhales a long sigh.

He might not be strong enough to fix Steve, because most medications aren’t even strong enough for that.

He supposes that being strong enough to love Steve will suffice, though.

Then at least he doesn’t have to suffer it alone.

[plli5]

how plave members would react to you farting in a crowded elevator

yejun

absolutely covers for you. zero hesitation.

“sorry, that was me... my stomach’s been weird today.” he even puts a hand on his stomach to really sell the act.

meanwhile, you’re standing there like a statue. eyes forward, face bright red. trying (not) to disintegrate.

and this man??

just casually wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you closer, and gives your shoulder a little squeeze like: “I got you.”

later, once you’ve survived the ride and stumbled into the hallway, he looks at you— dead serious:

“you owe me, babe.” “for what?”

“for taking the fall for a category five bio-weapon. that thing had layers.”

because if you think he wouldn’t tease you later, you’re strongly mistaken. BUT he’s gentle with it. He just really, really enjoys watching you squirm!! MHM!!!!

noah

if you think this man will cover for you right off the bat, think AGAIN!

he smells it. blinks. looks around. then his eyes land on you—standing stiff, lips pressed tight, visibly fighting for your life.

immediately starts laughing. loud.

you shoot him a glare, full death mode.

he only laughs harder. like gasping-for-air, bent-over laughing.

eventually—eventually—he kind of gets it together. clears his throat. still grinning. then, to the rest of the elevator, totally deadpan: “ah sorry, that was me.”

no one buys him. not one person.

but at least he tried.

later, he wraps his arm around your shoulders like nothing happened and goes, “that thing had force, babe. you trying to kill me?”

bamby

first reaction: GASP + full body flinch. covers his nose.

“W-WHO—??? WHAT??”

he whips his head around in horror… then his eyes land on you. frozen. soulless. already halfway to the afterlife.

realization hits him like a freight train.

he panics.

“OH. uh. that was me. yeah. i had… tofu??”

no one believes him. not even close. it's painfully obvious he's covering HAHAH

he starts fake coughing to add realism. fans the air. looks like he’s gonna pass out from his own fake fart. meanwhile you're standing there MORTIFIED.

you both walk out of the elevator with him still trying to sell it and failing miserably.

he feels bad later on and brings you a scented candle as a peace offering. such a thoughtful little peach mhm.

eunho

100% takes the fall, just so he can protect your dignity

at first he looks around suspiciously at first… sniffs once…

his eyes lock on you. you're red and visibly glitching. he sees the shame in your soul.

he gasps a little—dramatic, hand-to-heart—and then quietly says to the elevator:

“ah… that was me. sorry everyone” nobody even questions him because he looks so sincere. he even bows a little. polite. serious.

you could fall to your knees from the emotional damage.

outside, he turns to you, grinning like he just saved a puppy from a burning building.

“you’re so cute when you're embarrassed.” “shut up.” “do it again. i wanna protect you some more.”

everything you do is cute to this man. 11/10, need this in my life </3

haming

i don't think i need to say this but he’d 100% cover for you. and he makes it look effortless.

the second the smell hits, the air shifts.

silence.

suspicion.

you freeze, staring straight ahead, praying to every higher power that no one notices.

but hamin turns his head just slightly. a tiny glance in your direction. enough to make your stomach drop.

then—he speaks.

“sorry. that was me.”

no panic. no extra explanation. just calm, even delivery—and somehow, everyone believes him.

he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t move. just stands there with his hands in his pockets like he didn’t just save your dignity from total destruction.

(though… his ears are a little pink.)

when the doors open, he waits for you to step out first. follows close behind. and once the doors slide shut behind you both, he leans in, voice low, smooth:

“that was bold of you.”

“shut up!!”

“what? it’s cute.”

and yeah—later that night, while you’re wrapped in his arms, half-asleep?

“should I start carrying air freshener for you?”

“hamin, I swear—”

him, smiling into your hair: “just in case.”

because he will tease you. but he does it like he’s in love with you. because he is. MHMM!!

EXTRA: Calligo

he drop a nastier fart instead! True lover boy

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 20

Masterlist

Warning: nightmare, mention of past trauma, Vision gets a little upset, panic attack, fluff and angst

Note: I took some creative liberties in one section of this story. I did do some research but my thinking is if there is a soul realm why can't every infinity stone have one.

Word count: 4.5k

You were exhausted both mentally and physically. You loved spending time with Natasha and Wanda as they brought you to Bryant Park and the New York Public Library (you did get a library card). At the end of your adventure, you got two slices of cheese pizza. Now back at the tower, you wanted to lay in bed and fall asleep. You didn’t realize how exhausting it would be so social. As the metal doors opened to your floor, you were expecting it to be quiet and empty. You were mistaken. Instead, you saw Kate, America, Yelena, and Peter on the couch with a dog. You gasped, eyes glued to the one-eyed Golden Retriever. “Puppy,” you whispered. Kate laughed.

“Well don’t just stand there come say hi,” you walked over, extending your hand to the dog for it to smell you. “His name is Lucky.”

“Or Pizza Dog,” America added on. Lucky licked your hand and it was you needed to drop to your knees and bury your face in his fur. You loved dogs. When you were younger, your next-door neighbor had a yellow lab named Buddy. Sometimes, you went outside to go sit by the fence and pet him. He was never afraid of you.

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “His name is Pizza Dog?” The group laughed which launched them into the story of how Kate found the dog. Which Yelena explained as a ‘cool way to die’ getting hit by a car to save a dog. Kate left the dog in her apartment in a panic and gave him pizza to eat.

“I mean what New York City dog doesn’t love pizza,” Kate defended herself. She had a point. “But Eleanor’s ex-fiancé watches him for me,” you weren’t going to question that one. “I’m thinking about bringing him to the Bartons,” she scratched underneath his chin. “They love him and I think he’ll enjoy all the land.”

“But I’ll miss him,” America said, burrowing her face in his fur. “I’ll miss him so much.” You giggled as the elevator doors opened and Tony walked onto the floor. He was holding an envelope.

“Bishop,” he said slowly. “Why is there a dog in the tower?”

“Because he’s cute,” you smiled, scratching the sides of his head. Lucky’s tongue hung out of his mouth. “How can you be upset with this face?” You looked at the billionaire, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Tony sighed, admitting defeat with a roll of his eyes.

“I think Stark is having trouble saying no to you,” Yelena smiled. You merely shrugged, going back to giving your attention to Lucky.

“Is that a mission, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, pointing to the folder in Tony’s hand.

“Oh right. I got distracted by that,” he pointed to the golden retriever.

“Please Stark you thought about buying an alpaca,” Natasha said from the kitchen.

“This is for you,” he walked over to you and handed it. You took it, not sure what was in the envelope. “It’s not bad. Just your test results.”

“Test results?” Wanda questioned. You looked at Tony and then back to the envelope, trying to figure out what he was saying. Then it hit you like a freight train.

“Oh. OH!” You said, opening the envelope. You noticed that the seal was opened already ripped. He must have looked into it.

“Want to fill us in, bud?” Kate asked.

“You didn’t tell them,” you cringed, placing the envelope in your lap.

“I forgot,” you defended. And you did. With everything going on it was the last thing on your mind. You sighed. “I took the placement test,” it was like you spoke a different language that no one understood how quiet it was.

“Why-why didn’t you tell us?” America questioned. You began to pet Lucky. He knew something was bothering you as he cuddled up against you.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you explained. “I asked Tony to not tell anyone then everything went to shit,” you heard Natasha gasp out a ‘language’ which made you giggle. “Then I forgot about. I’m sorry.” You had every intention of telling them when you found out your scores.

“So,” you looked at the witch. “How did you do?” Looking at Tony, you motioned for him that it was okay to tell everyone. He smiled.

“Well, our girl tested out of reading comprehension and writing,”

“Shocker,” Yelena sarcastically said. You giggled, hiding the blush on your cheeks. It was weird being the center of attention.

“According to the test, those two skills are at a college level,” he continued. You liked the smile on his face, it was like he was proud of you. A warm feeling filled your belly at the thought of someone being proud of you. “As for science and math, you tested around a 6th-grade level which is amazing considering you’ve never set foot in an academic building.”

“See!” Peter said, pulling you into a side hug. “I told you were going to do great!” You laughed, thanking him for helping you study. It was a chorus of congratulations and hugs were given to you. Your cheeks were hurting for how much you were smiling. For once in your life, you felt proud of your accomplishment. The negative words of your father didn’t reach your head.

*    

You called Shuri immediately, getting her phone number from Peter, and she congratulated you. Stating that she told you so and that you had nothing to worry out. When you were done with your phone call, you found your friends in the kitchen on the common floor. “What are you doing?” You asked, walking over to them.

“Thank God! Your back,” America groaned. “She kicked me out of the kitchen.” She pouted and pointed to Yelena.

“She wouldn’t even let me help,” Peter mumbled, picking up a card from the pile. He and America were sitting at the counter playing Uno while Yelena and Kate were in the kitchen. Water was boiling on the stove and Kate was chopping a carrot.

“That's because she almost chopped my finger off,” Yelena said. “And Peter Parker, you burnt yourself boiling water. I can not trust you in the kitchen.”

“But you trust her?!” America exclaimed. Yelena sighed.

“Against my better judgment,” you giggled at Kate’s expression but it quickly vanished when Yelena kissed her on the cheek. They were really cute together.

“What are we making and what can I do to help?” You asked, washing your hands.

“Dumplings, fried rice, chow mein, and wonton soup,” Yelena told you.

“Bucky, Steve, and Rhodey should be coming back tonight and Yelena volunteered our services to cook,” America made Peter draw 2 cards. Which caused your friend to pout but it soon faded to a smile when he placed another draw 2 down. America gasped. “Rude!”

“You made me draw 8,” he defended. “It’s not the end of the world.” You smiled at the interaction. Yelena sighed.

“If I give you the dough recipe for the dumplings can you make it?” The blonde asked you. You nodded and she handed you a tablet with the recipe. There was a time in your life when you hated cooking. It meant that you were left alone and no one was there to feed you so you had to feed yourself. You remembered living off of toast and peanut butter because it was easy for you. You moved to make scrambled eggs and pancakes. But know you loved cooking with your friends around you and their laughter filling the silence. It was comforting. It was a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone.

*       

“Dinner smells amazing,” Rhodey said, helping you set up the table. He was the first one back. You were told he had to make a trip to DC to clear stuff over with a few politicians about the Avenger’s work with the Wakandans and the mission that sent Vision and a few SHIELD agents to South America. You were a little jealous of all places the Avengers traveled to.

“I helped,” America proclaimed and Rhodey frowned.

“Then it’s poisoned,” you chuckled, walking back into the kitchen as the Avengers filed in to take their seats around the table. You put on hand warmers to grab the last dish from the oven.

“Need help?” You jumped at Steve’s voice and spun around to see the American super-solider. His hair was damped, he must have just gotten out of the shower. “Glad to see you up and moving.”

“FRIDAY alerted you and Bucky that I was hurt,” Steve nodded. “Can I have a hug?” Instead of answering, he held open his arm inviting you into a hug. His arms circled you. He was warm, felt safe, and comforting. “Thank you,” you said. Steve let out a shaky breath.

“Scared the hell out of me kid,” you heard a chuckle, pulled away from Steve, and saw Bucky.

“Did I just hear Captain America say a bad word?” Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Glad to see you are safe, doll,” you smiled, taking a step away from Steve. Starring at Bucky’s hands, you found yourself starting to panic. You’ve felt his hands on you before. They were cold, and strong, and caused bruises on your skin. You swallowed the growing fear and held out your hand. You weren’t ready for a hug from him yet. Bucky raised his flesh hand.

“The other one,” you stated. “I trust you, Bucky.” You tried to keep your voice steady. Did he hear the slight shake? Or was he just as nervous as you were to notice? He hesitated and connected his metal hand with yours. Still, it was a shock to your system. You knew it was coming but the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and all you felt was fear. You dropped his hand and forced a smile on your face as you busied yourself with getting the last dish ready. “Hope you boys are hungry,” you said, leading them back to the table. “We made a lot of food.” You set it down and took your spot between Yelena and America. The blonde gave you a questioning look but you gave her a reassuring smile. You were okay. You had another hurdle to climb over.       

Dinner was fun. You laughed at the stories Rhodey and the two super soldiers told about their missions. Tony told the rest of the team about your test results. It reminded you of your father and how he gushed and bragged about a test Caleb did well on. But the entire time Bucky kept watching you. You wondered what was going through his head. Was he trying to remember you? Or did he remember and was too ashamed to admit it? Once dinner was done and cleaned up, you said your goodnight to the team and went to bed.

Well, you tried to sleep. You lay awake staring at the ceiling. You were exhausted, right down to your bones but you were afraid to fall asleep. “FRIDAY, can you read to me?” You asked the AI, turning onto your side. You hoped the sound would fight away any nightmares.

“Of course, do you have a specific book in mind?”

“The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin,” was a book on your TBR that you’ve been meaning to read. You figured now would be a good night.

“Right away,” you closed your eyes. “Let’s start with the end of the world, why don’t we? Get it over with and move on to more interesting things…”

*   

You woke up with a silent scream. You barely had enough time to stop the sound from coming out of your mouth. His hands. You could still feel them as he pinned you against the wall or held you down as waves and waves of electricity moved through your body. Scrambling out of your bed, you fell to the floor and put your back against the wall. Breath, you told yourself, breathe. The tingle in your palms began to spread. You didn’t register FRIDAY alerting you that she informed Wanda and Natasha or when the door opened. “Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?” You weren’t sure when you closed them.

“Can’t,” the pressure was becoming too much. “Need,” you couldn’t form the words you wanted to say. Everything was a mess in your head. You needed a way to release this pressure without hurting yourself, the couple, or causing a power surge in the tower.

“I’ll be right back,” you heard Wanda say and rush out of your room. Natasha stayed, talking through your panic. It was helping, the pressure began to lessen. Finally, you heard Wanda and she pushed something into your hands. “Focus your powers on that. Let go, molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug). We are here,” And you did. You heard the familiar sound of your powers dancing around your fingertips and the warmth it caused. You opened your eyes when it stopped, the couple was blurry from your tears but you saw their smiles.

“There’s our girl,” Natasha whispered, whipping away your tears. You surged forward, arms wrapping around her waist as you buried your head in her lap. “Sh, your safe. Your safe.” Your body shook against her and Natasha ran her fingers through your hair.

“Was it a nightmare?” Wanda asked, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” That was the last thing you wanted to do so you shook your head.

“That’s fine. We can just sit here until you are ready,” Natasha said. You turned your head to face Wanda. She held a battery, similar to the ones attached to the machine Tony made for you. Where did she get it?

“Tony gave us a few extras just in case you need them,” she answered your question. “But I do think we need to do some training, maybe it will help you regulate your abilities.” You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” you forced yourself off the Black Widow and climbed into bed. Natasha pulled the blanket over. “Do you want us to stay with you?”

“No, I’m okay,” you finally said. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Wanda said, kissing your forehead. “Come get us if you need anything. Goodnight,” the couple left and closed the door behind them. You traced the spot Wanda kissed. You never received a goodnight kiss from your mother. She was afraid to touch you once you revealed what you could do. You sighed, twisting the blanket in your hands. You wondered what you did to deserve this life you were living and if there were any way to repay them.

*     

You tried to go back to sleep but your room began to feel too small and suffocating. You debated on waking up Natasha and Wanda but you already disturbed their sleep. You began to walk the tower. You enjoyed the peace the tower provided at night. You were alone to figure out your thoughts but close enough to someone if you needed it. “Miss. Y/n,” you smiled at Vision, who sitting by the windows and illuminated by a nearby light. He was playing chess. “What are you doing up?” You walked over to him and sat in the empty chair.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “How was your mission?” You asked him as he cleared away the game he was playing to start a fresh one.

“It went well,” he gave you the first move. “We completed the mission with limited injuries,” you both didn’t speak, finding peace in the silence as you played. Until he broke it, “The team informed me you were hurt. Are you alright?” You sighed, tracing the groves of the pawn.

“I’ve probably been the healthiest and happiest I’ve ever been,” you took your turn. “But sometimes I worry this is all temporary, that the rug will be pulled out from underneath or my demons will come back to haunt me,” Vision stayed quiet as you continued, “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning, unable to keep my head above the water.”

“Do you wish for advise or do you just want someone to listen?” He asked. You smiled, laughing slightly.

“If you have advice I’d love to hear it,” he smiled. There was something about Vision that made you feel connected. Unlike a few others in the tower, Vision could exist in silence. He didn’t want to be the center of attention and he was content with sitting back and observing. There was a natural calming presence around him.

“You were born to a family that didn’t appreciate you,” you recognized the quote from Matilda, the reference made you smile. “You bare the emotional and physical scars of those who hurt you and it’s very unfair. But,” you looked at him. “You are very special, resilient too. So if the carpet you are standing on gets pulled out from underneath you, you have the strength to overcome it. However,” his smile grew. “You have a family that will catch you.”

“Was that a Matilda reference I heard?” He nodded. “I didn’t expect you to be a movie lover.”

“I like to indulge in a guilty pleasure every once in a while,” you giggled.

“Thank you Vision,” you covered your mouth as you yawned. “I guess that’s my cue to try to get some sleep.” You stood up but before you went back to your room you stared at the infinity stone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything,” you suppressed a sigh. You were curious that was why you wanted to touch it. You wondered if it would feel like Wanda’s powers.

“Can I touch the infinity stone?” He hesitated. It was the first time you saw him so unsure of himself. You expected him to say no and you would accept that but he nodded.

“Just be careful,” he warned. You nodded. Your hand shook as you raised it and moved your finger to the yellow stone. Before you even touched it, a short surge of electricity left your finger and the world around you went dark.

*     

Your eyes slowly opened staring into the vast nothingness above you. You sat up, hands skimming the water you were sitting in but your clothes remained dry. Where were you? Where was Vision? Where was anyone? On shaky legs, you stood up. “Hello,” you called out. But your voice echoing back was your only reply. You began to walk unsure of where to or how to get back home. “Hello!” You yelled.

“There is no need to raise your voice,” you spun around but saw no one behind you.

“Whose there?” You questioned. “Where are you?” The voice chuckled. The sound bounced around so you were unable to pinpoint where it was coming from.

“That is an interesting question when I’m here but nowhere. I’m near but very far,” you heard footsteps walking towards you. Out of the darkness you saw yourself. It was like looking in a mirror. It wore the same clothes you wore now, the scar, even the color of your eyes. “I’m me but also you.” It mimicked the sound of your voice.

“Where am I?” You asked. The figure didn’t answer, instead, it titled its head from side to side and you couldn’t help but mirror it. You snapped out of the fog. “Stop that.” It laughed.

“You're in the mind realm, you stupid, foolish girl. Your lucky you aren’t dead,” Well that was a relief. You were beginning to wonder if this was some strange version of the afterlife. “But,” it raised its hands. “I can’t be too upset. I’ve been dying to talk to you,” it began to circle you. You stayed cemented to the spot, trying to call upon your powers but they didn’t answer you.

“What do you want with me?” You asked. Your voice was surprisingly calm.

“There is a problem, an imbalance if you want to call it that,” it stopped walking and stood back in front of you. “And you are going to be the savior or our downfall, the choice is yours.” Your stomach dropped.

“Me?” You questioned. “Why-why me?” You weren’t a hero. You were just-well you weren’t sure what you were. But you were just a kid, just finding your footing in this big scary world.

“Because I chose you. It’s very simple please try to keep up,” it turned on its heels and walked into the darkness.

��Wait,” it didn’t. “Wait, hold on.” You ran after the figure, the water splashing at your every step. “Are you going to tell me what this problem is so I can fix it?” The figure shook its head.

“Nope, I can’t do that. Sorry,” something told you it wasn’t but it did stop walking. “Think of it like a game of chess,” With a wave of its hand chess boards appeared in the darkness. At every board, you were sitting on one side and your opponent was one of the Avengers. “All the pieces have been placed,” you began to walk around, watching the games play out. “But there are thousands of possibilities that could be the outcome. You could lose,” a few captured your king. “But you could also win.” The boards disappeared, leaving one. It was you against Natasha. The image before you began to flicker; changing from you hugging her to you standing above her with a gun.

“No,” you whispered. You looked away as the gun went off. “No! I won’t let that happen.”

“Only time will tell and as the judge, I can’t change the outcome of how I want the match to end,” it closed the gap between you two. Grasping your chin in its hands. Its skin was cold against yours. “I want to make myself clear. I want you to win. Your loss will make my life difficult. But you aren’t ready,” it dropped the hold on you and its appearance began to change. You watched the mind stone form in the center of its forehead. “I gave life to the Vision, powers to the Maximoff twins, and Loki wielded me to enslave others and take over New York,” it smiled and began to float in the air. “I wonder what I’ll give you.” Its fingers began to glow, lighting up the darkness around you. It was like you were watching a movie, moments of your life flashed around you. “I wish you the best of luck and I do apologize, you won’t remember our meeting. You have to understand, it’s for the best.”

“Wait,” it was too late. The figure touched your forehead and you were forced back. Like a string was attached to your waist and someone yanked you back. You began to chant in your mind to remember. Remember. Remember. You had to remember.

*

You stumbled backward and you felt Vision grab onto your hand to catch you. “Are you alright? Should I get-”

“I’m fine,” you told him. He wasn’t convinced but you were. Your stomach was a little upset and there was a small ache in your head but you’ve experienced far worst.

“What did you see?” He questioned. You titled your head, eyebrows pinched together. “Tell me what you saw.” The grip he had on you tightened.

“Ouch,” he released you. His eyes said his apologies. You rubbed the spot on your wrist. “I-I didn’t see anything,” you said. “Honest. I wouldn’t lie to you, I promise.”

“Right,” he sighed. “I do apologize for my behavior. Have a goodnight,” you forced a smile, a little concerned by what happened.

“Goodnight, Vision,” And you went back to your room, holding onto the wrist that was going to bruise come morning.

*       

Vision watched the young girl walk over the staircase and return to her room. He rubbed the stone, that gave him life, and Wanda her powers. He valued the power and responsibility that came with protecting the stone. Without it, he wouldn’t have been able to warn the Avengers of Thanos. Something was coming. He could feel it but the stone was silent, not indicate what the threat was. All he knew was it involved his new friend and that worried him more.

_

Taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe,   @blackbirdv98   @arualdcg  @yoyo-w​  @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen