#so odds are I’ll pause on him to use as reference shut up shut up

[staycalmandhugaclone]

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump Day 2

Flinching – Med OC/TBB

Warnings: Reference to attempted SA, reference to physical assault, some cursing, borderline panic attack.

WC: 2,753 - might do a second chapter of pure fluff, but this was getting long already

When the call came to offer temporary support on a covert mission of mercenaries, I’d been shocked at how the others had balked. Echo’s reluctance to let me go was understandable – over the past several months, we’d developed a friendship I’d come to depend on, but the almost possessiveness the others expressed through varying degrees of annoyance and frustration, and mumbled quips about the republic’s inability to ‘find their own medic for those karking nat-borns’ left me stunned. It was true that, with time, they’d grown less cold toward me, even allowing me to patch them up on occasion, but that sense of being the odd one out had never truly quelled. Foolishly, I’d even caught myself thinking that them being without me for a couple weeks wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I never paused to consider the danger in finding myself without them.

The mission was a brilliant success. I didn’t even need to bandage a scraped knee. What happened after, however… CF99 had been cleared to pick me up after the merc leading the mission reported the successful capture of a seppy outpost. It was three days before they finally arrived, and I nearly sobbed upon hearing the familiar hum of the Marauder’s engine. Carefully garbed in my full set of armor, I had to still myself against dashing from the merc ship, movements carefully controlled as I neared the ramp.

“About time. We were beginning to think this was going to turn into a rescue mission - figured we’d have to take the outpost ourselves.” Even Crosshair’s taunt was a welcomed relief as I finally let my steps quicken in those last few feet.

“Can’t have you lot winning the whole war by yourselves.” If he heard the slight quiver in my voice, he said nothing about it. I barely paused to hear the warm welcomes that should have left me a blubbering mess before quickly slipping into the medbay. The familiar buzz of the overhead light was a mockery to the way my heart raced, torn between dread and relief. I was safe here – safer than anywhere else in the galaxy, and I was so, so desperately tired, but I couldn't escape the terror seizing my chest.

My entire body flinched at the soft knock before the door hissed open, and I found myself counting my blessings that I hadn’t yet begun removing my armor as Echo stepped in.

“Hey, Doc – you ran off pretty quick. Everything okay?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I had to whisper the word on a quiet sigh lest it catch. With a quick inhale, I turned back to my supplies, carefully focusing on unpacking to keep my mind from wandering. “Just tired – think I’ve grown so used to Wrecker’s lullabies that now I can’t sleep without his snores shaking the whole karking ship.” Echo let out a polite chuckle, but I could feel the doubt nagging beneath his gaze.

“I’m fine – just need a quick nap, then I’ll join you up front. Okay?” Safely hidden behind my visor, I turned back toward him, knowing he couldn’t see the red of my eyes or the way my chin shook.

“Okay.” The gentleness of his reply nearly broke me, but I managed to keep myself still until the door slipped shut behind him.

-

The fleeting few hours of sleep I managed to steal between flares of panic offered no relief, but I couldn’t bring myself to risk closing my eyes again. Beyond the comforting hum of the Marauder’s engines and Wrecker’s telltale violent snores, the ship was quiet. Aside from whoever was currently taking watch at the helm, it sounded as though the others were asleep. Good. If I couldn’t sleep, a cup of strong caf would have to do. It wouldn’t take long – just a few minutes. I could be in and out before any of them noticed. Not long enough to warrant dragging myself back into my armor.

As I’d hoped, the hall light was dimmed for the others to sleep, and I was able to silently tread into the small kitchenette without attracting attention. Focus locked on my own unsteady movements, I started the caf machine and retrieved a mug, gaze staring blindly at the stream of dark liquid pouring into my cup.

Even as the others slept, then engines continued humming, burning, sending us lightyears from that wretched Sergeant. I’d gotten away – fought my way free and painstakingly ensured I never found myself alone with him again throughout those long three days, but the bruises of my escape still ached fiercely against even slow movements. I’d recorded everything, was mentally prepared to report the event as soon as we made it back to Kamino… I just had to last another couple days. If Echo learned what the man had tried to do… kriff, after how they’d all reacted to my temporary reassignment, I couldn’t risk any of them finding out… But I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t close my eyes without felling the icy strength of his grip, without feeling how he’d caged me against the wall…

It wasn’t until after I felt my body shy violently away, heard the cup clatter from my hands as caf splashed over the floor that I realized what happened. Crosshair. Had he said something; tried to get my attention before merely reaching around me to fill his own cup? I hadn’t noticed him enter the room, and, when his arm appeared over my shoulder, the flood of panic sent ice through my veins, heart slamming against my chest as my body simply reacted, every muscle snapping in a desperate attempt to distance myself from him before he could trap me once more, eyes darting around to find him, to fight.

I’d never seen that look in the sniper’s golden eyes. Shock left us both frozen for several seconds, and dread sank through me. Teeth clicking together against the tremble already stealing over me, I quickly dropped my gaze to the puddle, turning away with all the subtleness of a bantha as though there was any hope he hadn’t seen the bruises.

“Kriff!” The curse belated tore through clenched teeth as I snatched a rag from the counter. “Need to tie a karking bell on” The threat died as his fingers whispered beneath my chin. I knew it was him – knew that beneath that rude, snide front, he was kind and loyal and safe. Still, I couldn’t keep from wrenching away from that touch, wide eyes darting back to his as though there were some chance I’d find the merc standing over me.

The cold rage in those golden eyes stripped me of even the façade of denial. Once more, his fingers ghosted over my chin. This time, he didn’t pull back at the small flinch, instead carefully tilted my head to the side to fully view the dark bruises. Still, I felt myself trying to fight him, twitching against his hold as though I might yet hide the evidence of my assault from him.

“Who did this?” Quiet. The words were so quiet despite the violent rage burning through them, and I couldn’t pretend anymore, body shaking in earnest now. His other hand slowly began to raise, fingers frightfully gentle as they settled carefully around my arm.

“Who did this?” He asked again, body curling ever so slightly around mine.

“I… I’m taking care of it.” I don’t know where I found the strength to manage even that wanting attempt of evasion, but he merely scoffed, lips twisting into a small scowl.

“Hunter.” His voice carried intentionally through the ship, and my heart sank.

“Crosshair, please.” I loathed the defeat in my voice even as I turned up to him, pleading with weary eyes, and his jaw ground until I could hear his teeth creak.

“I read the report – zero injuries. Right? That means this happened after the Separatists were pushed out.”

“You… read…” I felt the beginnings of a question stutter over my lips, mind staggering to grasp what he’d just said. Why would he read the report?

“Right?” He pressed, ripping me from my thoughts, and my head automatically nodded, stoking that rage into something dangerous. “One of those damn nat-borns roughed you up? Why?” He snarled. I could feel the tension rippling through his towering, lithe form, watched the faint tremor steal over him, but his touch remained impossibly gentle where he held me. Still, I couldn’t help but turn away in disgust and shame at his question. That was all the answer he needed, breath hitching as he quickly pulled away from me.

“Wa-wait.” I gasped, vainly struggling to force myself to talk – to explain before things got worse. “He didn’t”

“What happened?” Hunter asked from behind me, and another curse caught over my tongue.

“Look.” The sniper growled, chin jerking toward me. Some feeble dismissal vied for breath, lips just beginning to part when the Sergeant tread around the room to face me, expression suddenly darkening as his eyes swept over the patches of deep bruises.

“Those aren’t from droids.” It wasn’t a question.

“One of those nat-borns figured they were owed something more for a mission accomplished.” Crosshair snarled.

“What?” The word barked from Hunter’s lips so sharply, I couldn’t help but shy slightly, teeth catching the inside of my lips in some vain attempt to still the way my chin trembled, gaze quickly dropping to the cooling puddle of caf slowly spreading beneath our feet. Ignoring the mess entirely, Hunter lowered himself onto a knee just in front of me. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him; couldn’t risk seeing the anger or pity or disgust I feared I’d find there.

“Doc, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.” I wasn’t expecting the gentleness of his plea; the depth of concern quieting his words into something just above a murmur, and that gentleness is what finally broke me, tears slipping mockingly down my cheeks despite how forcefully I ground my teeth in a desperate attempt to hold them back.

“I said I’m taking care of it!” Even as guilt twisted through my chest, the anger fueling my words was safer than fear, so I found myself clinging to it, finally meeting Hunter’s eyes with a piercing glare. “Yeah, that asshole tried to-” even now, I couldn’t say it, voice catching in my throat before I forced myself to continue lest my mind falter and freeze, “but I’m not some damn helpless civilian! I fought back, and I got away, and he’s sure as shit just as kriffed up as me because of it!”

I couldn’t just stand there, skin crawling at the mere thought of that night, heart slamming painfully against my chest. Arms locking around my chest, fingers burring into the black fabric covering handprints I feared I’d never be free of, I stalked to the far corner of the mess room, legs pacing restlessly as wide eyes darted between the two of them; blind to their stillness as they merely watched me.

“Good.” The sudden praise from the normally impartial sniper stopped me in my tracks, shocked to see the approval shining through those golden eyes. “Still, think we should head back, though,” He added, glancing to his brother as he pushed himself back to his feet, “Make sure there’s no… misunderstanding.”

“No!” I barked, dread returning en force, but he seemed not to notice.

“What’s with all th…” Dammit… Echo stood frozen midstep in the doorway, jaw parted in a silent gasp. “What the kriff happened?!” He demanded, storming into the room towards me. I managed to hold my ground until he raised his hand, reaching towards me as though the bruising might simply vanish beneath his touch, but I couldn’t still the way my head jerked away at that last second, eyes slamming shut beneath a strike I knew would never come.

“Echo.” Hunter called, a quiet warning in his voice, but I could hear the tension in the arc’s suddenly ragged breaths.

“Who the kriff did this?” The quiet growl sent a tremor down my spine, eyes hesitantly peaking up at him. Echo held my gaze for barely a breath before looking sharply over his shoulder at their leader.

“We’re going back.” He stated with such absolution, it wrenched a sob from me. This is exactly what I was afraid of.

“N-”

“Goin’ back where?” In my frenzy, I hadn’t noticed the quiet in the absence of Wrecker’s snoring, and looked in horror to find the jovial man filling the entirety of the doorway. His eyebrows rose sharply upon seeing me, a huff of air catching against a smirk. “Well, someone saw some action!” The glee in his voice quickly faded as he took in the darkness of his brothers’ expressions. “Wha… what happened?”

“Nothing.” I stated forcefully, but it took mere seconds for that same rage to sharpen his gaze as understanding dawned on him. “No! No, Dank ferric! Listen to me!” I finally shouted, “He’s a karking Master Sergeant! If any of you even lay a hand on him-”

“You think we give a Sith’s tit about that?” For a moment, I was too shocked to hear that kind of language from Echo to respond, and Crosshair’s comment only further robbed me of any means of speech.

“He hurt you.” The sniper growled, as though that was all the justification any of them needed to throw away their lives for vengeance. Some broken attempt at pleading with them stammered from my lips, gaze darting from Crosshair’s seething rage to Echo’s terrifying fury, to a quiet hatred I hoped to never see in Wrecker’s eyes again.

“I’m afraid our good doctor is right.” A hopeful gasp escaped me as Tech pushed his way into the room, hair hopelessly mused from sleep, hand absently rubbing the weariness from his eyes before slipping his goggles back on. “Seeking out our own justice would do little more than pose a temporary unpleasantness – assuming we didn’t kill him outright – but it would likely see each of us decommissioned for assaulting a commanding officer.” My heart seized at hearing my fears spoken aloud, but the reluctant defeat that settled over the others freed some of the tension from my stiff muscles.

“I am curious, though,” Tech continued, turning his attention to me, “You have ample bacta. It seems clear you’d hoped to keep this from us until after we’d returned to Kamino, so why not treat your own injuries before we could see them? I assume you’ve taken pictures as evidence of the assault?” Heat pooled over my cheeks as my gaze fell.

“I didn’t…” The words choked over a broken gasp, and I had to force myself to draw a deep breath before trying again. “I was afraid the pictures wouldn’t be enough.” The words were mumbled, logically knowing the reason to be unnecessary but the doubt and fear that had poisoned my mind with ‘what if’s’ had been more than enough to steady my hand against anything that might lessen the bruising. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them as I spoke, but, even from the corner of my eye, saw Echo’s shoulders slump.

“They’ll be enough.” He whispered; promised in a way I couldn’t bring myself to argue against, and fresh tears clouded my vision. Stretching my jaw against the stiffness lodging in my throat, I forced myself to take a deep breath. “Can I help patch you up?” That gentleness I so treasured him for robbed the lingering tension from me along with what fleeting strength it brought, body wilting before him beneath the utter exhaustion I simply couldn’t continue fighting. Finding those eyes, seeing the purity of his concern and worry… I couldn’t deny him, head nodding listlessly.

“Come on.” He slowly motioned his arm toward me in a silent offer. I hesitated mere seconds before letting myself nearly collapse against him, hands clutching his forearm and bicep while my forehead nearly hid against his shoulder. I vaguely noted his other arm move as well, before his mind caught up with the action and he purposefully lowered the scomp back to his side. With slow steps, he guided me between his brothers and into the hall just as Hunter’s voice rumbled dimly over that distant hum of the engines.

“Tech, as soon as we’re out of hyperspace-”

“A message is already pending transmission to Commander Cody detailing everything we know.” Tech interrupted, earning only a quiet hum.

Fanart!!! by @mythical-illustrator

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[crackedpumpkin]

|| ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ʙʟᴏꜱꜱᴏᴍꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪᴍᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ||

a/n: lol this somehow reached 2.3k hits on ao3, I will never know how. I'm so tired it's 4am and this is a very very lengthy chapter xo pls enjoy I'm gonna go crash now who even needs Grammarly anyway I AM the Grammarly

“You’re a princess?”

“I mean, technically? I don’t really like to talk about it much.”

“But how did Casey know?” 

Y/n hesitates. “I…Don’t know. I don’t think I’ve told anyone besides you.” She admits softly, her eyes trained on her nails as they pick away at her cuticles. 

It’s silent for a while, and she glances up nervously to check on Leo’s stunned figure. His lips are pursed, exhaling steadily with eyes of acceptance. “Huh.” He says after a while, leaning against the wall next to her. 

He looks back up with a small smile. “And I’m the first one you told?” 

She nods.

“Hey, lovebirds! We could really use some help over here!” Raph yells across the room at the two. She starts slightly, accidentally making eye contact with Leo before ducking her head, feeling a gentle heat on her cheeks.

“Coming!” She walks off, Leo following suit. He can’t stop the smile that’s stuck to his lips. 

She told him first. He’s the first one to know more about her.

The thought makes him euphoric, helping y/n pick up scattered comic books on the floor, the pages drenched from her earlier actions. “So, how does it work where you’re from? Y’know, the whole princess thing?”

Y/n looks up in surprise, not expecting him to ask more about her background. She pauses, trying to explain it as best she can. “I’m the niece of the Northern Water Tribe’s chief. I’m just a princess in name, though. It wasn’t made official.” 

“Why not?” 

She stiffens, looking away from him. “Some stuff….happened. I mean, it’s not that important since I ended up going with Aang, Sokka, and Katara.” She brushes over it, though the slight tinge of sorrow in her voice only serves to pique his curiosity.

He hums. “In that case, do we have to refer to you by your title now, princess?” He jokes, but his teasing smile falters when she looks up at him with wide eyes and a beautiful flush on her cheeks, making part of him want to tease her more if only to see that same expression again.

“I-I mean, you don’t have to. It’s just a formality thing.” Her voice fades into an almost shy whisper, averting her gaze and focusing on arranging the wet comic books on the floor. His cheeks blossom with a soft pink matching hers, mirroring her actions. His hand brushes against hers, both flinching and drawing their hands to their chests as if they had been burnt.

“What’s going on here?” 

She clears her throat, standing back up with a quick shake of her head. Raph watches them both with a playful smile, his hands crossed and ignoring Leo’s flustered glare. Neither responds to Raph, y/n focusing on bending all the water out of the pages and leaving them dry again. 

Mikey whoops happily, scooping them up into his arms with a gleeful grin. “Thanks!!” He scurries back into his room with comic books in tow, ready to stash them away in fear of another incident like earlier happening.

“Anyway,” her attention is back on Raph, who regards them both with a skeptical gaze, “don’t you gotta go home for school tomorrow, Pipsqueak?” 

We’re on nickname terms now?

This makes her grin, glad that she’s been acknowledged by him. The reminder makes her pause, looking around the more or less dry lair. “What about April and Casey?” 

“I’ll walk her-”

“I’ll walk her back.”

Donnie interrupts Casey with a hostile glare, making the boy quirk a brow at the turtle’s odd behaviour. “Sure… See you tomorrow then, Red. Princess.” Casey shrugs, turning to head out the way he followed Raph.

“Oh, would you look at that! It seems that y/n doesn’t have anyone to walk her home. I gotta do…stuff, and so does Mikey.” Raph rubs the back of his neck with probably the worst acting y/n’s ever seen, though she does chuckle at the effort.

“We do?” Mikey shuts up when Raph glares at him, pouting at how mean his brother is. “I guess we do.”

“But April and I live together-”

“Actually, I have something to discuss with Master Splinter. You go on ahead first, y/n.” April grins mischievously, patting y/n’s shoulder with an encouraging nod. 

“I’d be glad to accompany you.” Leo offers with a roll of his eyes at how obvious everyone is being, taking the hint. She nods with a warm smile, walking past the turnstiles with him. 

“Shall we, princess?” He asks, holding his hand out to her with a charming grin. She’s about to take it, but a hot flash of pain rips through her head, the familiar line making her wince.

“Shall we, princess?”  Jet holds out his hand to her with a teasing grin, undeterred by the hostile scowl sent his way by the very girl he’s called out to. 

“Jet. Nice to see you again.” Her eyes are narrowed into a glare, hands clenching into fists. Just in case, though, she bends a stream of water out of the buckets beside her, steadying herself in case he attacked. After what happened, she couldn’t trust him. Not anymore.

“Calm down,” He chuckles, hands lifted up in surrender. “I’m here to talk.”

“Does that talk include trying to drown another innocent village?” She scoffs, the hairs on her neck bristling when he takes a step forward. “Don’t,” She warns, the water bubbling as it begins to heat up from the rapidly growing anger in her heart. 

“I’m here to help. For real this time, I promise.”

“We both know what your ‘promises’ are worth.”

“Not this time. Please. Just hear me out. It’s about your parents.”

Her breath hitches in her chest, eyes widening before she swallows a bitter lump in her throat. “What do you mean?”

“I promise it’ll be worth your time. I don’t have the gang with me anymore; all I want to do is talk.” She eyes his outstretched hand with doubt, but her curiosity ultimately wins. She lets the water drop to her feet, splashing onto the dry floor without soaking her dress in the slightest. 

“Fine. I’ll hear you out. But one wrong move, and you’ll be frozen for the next five years before you know it.”

She expects him to flinch. Instead, his lips curve into a playful grin, reminiscent of the day they met. Heat crept across her cheeks, tinging the tips of her ears with a rosy pink before looking away with a huff and crossed arms. Damn, those good looks of his.

He holds out his hand, waiting for her to take it. “It’s good to see you again, princess. I missed you.”

“You can leave now!” Raph calls out from a short distance, and she’s instantly brought back to the present. She looks up at Leo’s eyes filled with nothing but warmth and kindness for her. Her stomach turns, her hand about to brush his before she snatches it back. She swallows, unable to bring herself to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah, let’s go.” She mumbles, brushing past him in a hurry. He hesitates, eyes filled with mild hurt at the cold way she rejects his hand. He follows suit, missing the wince on April’s face as she watches them leave. 

“Should I tell her that tomorrow’s Saturday?”

— — — —

Y/n runs across the rooftops, the cold breeze whistling past her ears soothing her somewhat. Her heart is heavy, but the sensation of practically flying across the rooftops is freeing. 

She barely registers Leo following along, having slowed his usual pace for her. She appreciates the thought, her steps slowing so they walk side by side. His curious gaze unnerves her slightly, still unable to bring herself to meet his innocent eyes that hold so much worry, and so many questions.

“So, how’s school life going for you?” 

“It’s going good, I suppose. I introduced the history of the avatar and the war to my classmates.” 

“You what?” 

“I know, April told me not to do it again. Not even about the frog talk too.” She replies grumpily, crossing her arms with a huff.

Leo’s bemused by her words, every single sentence of hers still catching him off guard. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any more baffling, she always managed to surprise him. 

His gaze softens, watching her kick a stray pebble. She’s so endearing, he thinks with a chuckle. 

“About earlier,” He sees her stiffen slightly, probably thinking about how he’d address her rejecting his hand. “What’s it like being a princess?” 

“It was…” She pauses, looking out at the city. He stands beside her, waiting patiently for her reply. “Isolating.” She finally says after a few moments, lips pursed. The silence from Leo spurs her to continue, his reassuring presence encouraging her to speak more freely. 

“When I was little, my parents left me with my uncle. He was the chief of our tribe, and it was one last favour he did for my parents before they left. That’s where I met Yue.” She recalls peeking out from behind her father’s legs with a timid smile, meeting her cousin for the first time. 

“Yue and I were close growing up. We played dolls together and studied together. We were like sisters. But as we grew up, it became more and more apparent that she was of higher status. She’s the direct daughter of the chief, while I’m just his niece. I wasn’t mistreated, just less…included.”

“What about your royal duties? Did you knight any knights? Dance at balls? Have a coronation?”

“What are knights?”

“Y’know, like, warriors who wear armour and wield swords? They’re loyal to their kingdom and their kingdom alone? You have to knight them with a sword? They swear all loyalty to the princess?” 

“I don’t think we have those,” Her eyes shine with humour, smiling at his amusing reply. At first, she thought he was describing himself, what with the swords and all. He had mimicked a ‘knight’s’ actions, dramatically holding out his katanas. She had to hide a giggle at that.

“That’s a shame. I think being a knight would’ve been pretty cool. Why’d you choose to follow them, though?” 

His question makes her hesitate, glancing up at him. “There was no more reason to stay.” If she had, Yue’s betrothed would’ve only gone to her. She’d forever be a replacement for her cousin. 

But no one could ever replace Yue.

It’s silent for a while, both settling into comfortable silence. 

“I’m tired of losing people.”

The loaded statement that slips past her lips is weary, with pure exhaustion laced in every single word. She’s too tired to realize how it sounds, her true feelings bubbling to the surface. 

“It must’ve been hard.”

His single reply comes instantly, his words nothing but heartfelt. She doesn’t realize that her eyes have already started tearing up until her vision becomes blurry. She blinks, the tears sliding down her cheeks. She feels something soft brush against her skin, slowly registering a green finger brushing off her tears with a gentle smile. 

“It’ll be okay.” Leo promises. “We’ll get you home.”

She sniffles, allowing herself to melt into his touch with a tiny sigh. “Thank you.”

“For now, though, let’s get you home.” Leo chuckles, letting his hand drop to his side after her tears stop flowing. She manages a nod, the both of them starting a slow jog with a shared smile. 

Something’s off.

She glances around; brows furrowed in confusion, when she doesn’t spot anyone else. She could’ve sworn they were being watched. The prickling sensation that ruffles her nerves isn’t easing; her gut twists and tugs slightly in a particular direction. 

“Something wrong?” Leo asks, curious as to why she’s suddenly on high alert. He didn’t sense anything. But then again, y/n had slightly keener instincts than any of them did.

“Just…felt like we were being watched,” She murmurs uneasily, rubbing her arm in discomfort. She didn’t like the sensation, reminding her too much of the days when they were busy being hunted down by Zuko. 

“I don’t see anyone around. Maybe you’re a little tired from earlier.” Leo suggests, the skin above his eyes creasing in worry. “You should get some rest.”

“Maybe,” she still can’t brush it off but continues to jog back to the apartment building. The feeling fades after a while, the tension leaving her body. She unlocks the window, sliding it up. Leo watches from the fire escape, the close proximity making her stiffen slightly. 

“Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He says, the nickname filled with fondness. A breathy laugh falls from her lips, still flustered when he calls her with such affection. She climbs into the room, pausing before gesturing for him to come closer. 

His eyes widen slightly in intrigue, taking a step and leaning in. She gestures for him to come closer still, as if she’s about to tell him a secret. 

“Thanks for keeping me safe, my knight.” She whispers, brushing her lips gently against his cheek. 

He’s frozen.

She leans back with a heavy blush on her cheeks, her neck hot. She slides the window shut, clearing her throat. She watches him take a step back, climbing back up the fire escape with jerky movements and a blush that matches hers. 

“Wow.” 

Y/n yelps at the sudden voice, stumbling back and almost falling onto the ground. She grabs onto the chair nearby in time, looking up wide-eyed to see both April and Donnie in the doorway, stunned into silence. 

“I mean…wow.” Donnie can’t help but be impressed by y/n’s boldness, April lifting her hands to clap slowly, eyes filled with awe. ”Wow,” She agrees.

 “Y-you saw that?” 

What was she even asking? Of course, they saw it based on their reactions. She groans, holding her head in her hands. She could never recover from this.

“That’s it. I’m banishing myself from all interactions.” She mutters, brushing past them both and into the kitchen to make some tea to calm herself down. April doesn’t stop the slow claps, sharing a mischievous grin with Donnie. 

“We’re so gonna bring it up around them, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

— — — —

She can’t sleep. Y/n turns and shifts in her spot on the shared bed, freezing when she hears April mumble a sound of protest. She sits up with a sigh, moving to exit through the window and heading up the fire escape to the rooftop. 

She’s barefooted, standing on the cold, dirty ground that no one bothers to clean. She takes a moment to sit on the ledge, looking up at the night sky. Her heart is heavy, recalling just moments ago when she had so daringly pressed a soft kiss against Leo’s cheek.

Her heart hammers in her chest like a hummingbird’s melodious thrums, except she’s sure that hers is faster and much louder. How had she been so bold? 

Did she even deserve to have the right to feel this way again? After what happened with Jet, it's hard to believe so.

A weary sigh leaves her lips, looking down at her calloused hands with regret starting to fill the emptiness that makes itself known. The silence is deafening, almost too much for her to bear. 

Jet.

She hadn’t remembered that name in a while. After everything she’s been through in this dimension, it’s easy to let the name of one’s first love slip their mind. With fighting aliens, discovering mutagen, and befriending a girl with psychic powers, it’s hard to believe that she isn’t just in a fever dream.

Who knows, though? Maybe it really is, and she’d wake up to Katara nagging at her to wake up for another of Aang’s pranks that she’d been a victim of. Sokka would snort at her, and she’d bend a stream of water to soak him in response.

She pinches her hand, wincing at the sharp pain. She huffs out a sad laugh. What had she expected?

It’s not a dream.

“So princess, you gonna come with me or what?”

“Shut it, Jet. I don’t trust you.” Y/n huffs, following Jet with a cautious gaze. 

“I really have changed, y’know.” Jet turns to face her with a sorrowful smile she almost falls for, her eyes softening before the reminder of what he did to the innocent village makes her sober up. 

“People don’t change so easily.” 

“I’ll prove it to you, princess. I promise.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” He sounds genuinely surprised, and y/n crosses her arms defensively. The both of them are in an alleyway, with no one else around. She glances behind her, wondering if she should just make a run for it and forget this all ever happened.

“Because you don’t have the right to. Not anymore. Not after what you did to me. To us.” 

What had they been, anyway? A couple of teenagers with a mutual crush on each other? That’s all they were. And safe to say, hers had burned out as soon as he endangered her friends.

“Y/n…” He hesitates, his hand falling to his side. “I’m sorry.” 

It’s sincere, but she can barely bring herself to look him in the eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

He nods resignedly, continuing to trek forward. “Where are we going, anyway?” She asks, staying a wary distance from him. 

“Your parents are here. In Ba Sing Se.”

“What?” 

It’s as if the breath is knocked out of her with that statement alone, disbelief tinging her voice. “That can’t be.”

“It’s true, princess.”

“Don’t lie to me!” 

“I’m not, princess. They’re only a few houses down. Please.” Jet holds his hand out to her, but she’s hesitant to take it. It couldn’t be. Everything she’s built up to protect herself from her parents abandoning her is crumbling in her hands. She can’t let herself believe it. It’s easier for her to think that they’re dead. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” She hesitates, the painful lump in her throat and tightness in her chest scaring her more than anything she’s faced so far, “I’ll know for sure that they really abandoned me.”

Once the words leave her lips, she feels herself crumble to pieces, dropping to her knees as her eyes sting with tears. She feels his warm arm wrap around her back, holding her against his chest. The warmth brings her painful comfort, allowing the tears to spill over. They wet his shirt, but his hold around her only tightens. She clutches his shirt, crumpling the fabric in her hands as she hiccups through her sobs.

It’s as if she’s back in the throne room again, waving goodbye to her parents with an uneasiness in her gut that she brushes off as a mere stomachache. That was the last time she ever saw them. The warm kiss her mother pressed against her forehead and her father’s affectionate ruffle of her hair. Those were the last forms of affection she’d ever receive from them.

She calms down after a while, having held onto Jet for dear life. She’s about to move away from him, her shaky breaths not doing much to convince him that she’s okay. She yelps, Jet picking her up in a bridal carry and walking back the way they came. 

“Put me down!”

“Calm down, princess. You’re tired.” 

She narrows her eyes into a glare, though it’s less hostile than before. Her eyes drop to his neck, stubbornly refusing to look into his eyes. She tries to move her feet but finds that she’s lost all feeling in them after having sat on them for as long as she did.

“Any more glaring, and you’re gonna burn a hole through my shirt, princess.”

“Good,” She grumbles with a huff. 

His chest shakes with a deep chuckle, her own heart warming at the sound. “Let’s get you something to eat.” She hesitates. Was this really a good idea? Maybe Aang, Katara, Toph, and Sokka would be worried she’d get back so late. Maybe he was actually taking her to be captured again. 

Maybe he had something else up his sleeve.

“Fine.”

The first few drops of rain snap her out of her memory, before the rest come down in full force. The rain pelts her body, droplets sliding off her hair and streaming down her face. Her entire body is soaked, and the shirt and shorts provident little protection. 

She cups her hands, the rainwater quickly gathering in a small pool. Her body feels heavy and tired, her heart filled with all sorts of emotions that crash against each other like raging waves in a vast ocean that she’ll never be able to calm. 

She stands up. She takes a deep breath, bringing her arms up into a circle and suspending the raindrops in midair when her hands meet above her head, moving to sweep her left foot in a semi-arc. 

The movement guides the water to surround her in streams, mimicking the image of a hurricane she had seen in passing during geography class. Her movements are slow and controlled, but as thoughts start to cloud her mind, they become more erratic and more emotional. 

She thrusts her right arm out to the sky, a jagged spike of ice following suit. The edge is as sharp as the hot flash of anger in her heart, anger at herself for being so helpless and pitiful in this state, anger at her parents for abandoning her, and anger directed at herself for being unable to control anything around her.

She shifts her arm back, leaving the large spike of ice as is and allowing herself to feel the next emotion: Despair. How could she even think about falling in love in a dimension that isn’t even hers? She had to leave sometime. Whatever she felt for Leo would be over before it even began. 

She despairs for a life lost, for the various that she’s seen leaving the plane of mortality in the blink of an eye. Despair for her parents. Despair for Yue. Despair for Jet. 

Despair for all the lives lost in the war. 

Despair for a love that once was. 

The water around her seems to adapt to her feelings, shifting and surrounding her in a flurry of churning, rapidly moving stream that she almost lets go of. 

Then, Fear takes hold. Her body is simply flowing along with the water, allowing herself to become one with its motions. She’s scared. She’s scared to lose the people around her. She’s scared she’ll never make it back to her home. 

She’s scared that once she takes the first step forward to confirm what she and Leo have, she’ll lose it. 

She’s scared that she’ll lose him. 

The water bubbles, drawing back and coating her body in a protective shield, leaving her face unguarded. 

All her guarded emotions finally rise to the surface. She raises her hands again, bending every drop around her to form a huge orb of water above the apartment building. 

Then in a single movement, she bends the water to become mist, letting it — and her emotions, dissipate into the morning of New York City, surrounding the buildings with heavy fog.

She sighs softly. It’s as if a huge burden has been lifted off her shoulders. She walks back down the fire escape, slipping back into April’s room and under the covers, not noticing the dirt that covers the soles of her feet and staining the white bedspreads.

She falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow, lip curved upwards into a soft smile.

Maybe she should do that more often.

— — — —

“I never understood how turtles — could be so fast!” April says between pants, breathless from the amount of running they’ve just done. Y/n nods in agreement from beside her. She could run, just not for two hours straight.

“C’mon, April! This is just the warmup,” Mikey encourages, all four turtles completely unfazed. “I’m sorry — the warmup?” Y/n echoes in disbelief, holding a finger up as she catches her breath from beside a tired April, “For two hours??”

“That’s what ninjas do. Training sometimes lasts for four–five hours at a time. Awesome, right?” 

“Awesome?” April’s baffled by how normal this is for them. “Are you kidding me? I’m gonna puke.”

“I second that motion.” Y/n raises her hand from beside her, already leaning against Donnie, who supports her with a worried smile. Her stomach turns, all her stamina spent. Her legs have zero feeling in them, barely managing to hold herself upright.

“What about a real mission?”

“It took fifteen years of training before Master Splinter let us go on a ‘real mission’. You got a long way to go, sister.” Raph scoffs, sassily dismissing April’s request.

“Not that long. A decade or two will fly by like that!” Donnie snaps his fingers to prove his point, but it only serves to heighten April’s dismay. 

“For a turtle!”

Y/n groans softly, the familiar unnerving sensation back again with full force. It had been plaguing her for the past couple of days, and she wanted to tell the rest but didn’t know how to — especially after that night when Donnie and April had both caught her kissing Leo’s cheek.

She constantly felt like she was being followed, but every time she glanced around to try and narrow it down, the feeling disappeared, as if whoever was doing so had fled. It’s back again, though - and growing more intense by the minute. 

Everyone’s voices fade into white noise. She closes her eyes, trying to focus on what exactly her instincts are trying to tell her. Her gut twists and turns as if it’s wringing itself out to dry. However, it’s tugging in a particular direction, and she opens her eyes to see April pointing in the same direction as well. 

A masked figure is hidden in the shadows, but the brightness of a neon sign reflects onto the signboard they’re hiding behind, revealing their location. They flinch at being caught, grabbing their things and running away. 

Great. More running.

She staggers to her feet with a groan, beginning to give chase. If it’s one thing she’s learnt about being watched, it’s that it never leads to a good outcome. 

Case in point: Sparky Sparky Boom Man. 

As they run to catch up to the mysterious stranger, y/n gets a better look at them now that they’re more exposed to the light. She stops at the edge of the building they’re on but pauses once she bends the water out of the water bag on her hip. She judges the distance between the two buildings, unsure if the amount of water is enough to create a bridge over. 

However, she’s hastily scooped up and pressed against a strong plastron, instinctively wrapping her arms around Leo’s neck as his own circle her waist protectively. He jumps off the building after securing a grappling hook to the next, pushing himself off the ledge and landing safely on the rooftop. 

He sets her down gently, y/n whispering her thanks softly as their gazes lock. “Make goo-goo eyes a​​​​t each other later; we got a guy to catch!” Raph rolls his eyes, the both of them flustered at suddenly being called out. 

They resume their run, though the distance between them is a bit closer than before. She reaches the edge once more, kneeling down to get a better look at the man who slips into an apartment in the opposite building. 

She allows herself to get carried over by Leo, the gesture almost second nature now. She lets go of his neck once they land on the fire escape, hands reaching out to open the window. She’s stopped, however, when Leo shakes his head, his hands holding hers and gently pushing them down. 

He produces a tool from behind his back, y/n stepping aside in understanding as he jimmies the lock open before slowly sliding it up. She’s already prepared a shield of ice in case any arrows come flying, holding it in front of them both. 

Luckily, no projectiles come flying at them. She breathes a sigh of relief but still keeps her shield up as they enter the apartment. It’s comparatively devoid of decorative furniture, a potted plant in the corner drawing her attention.

She walks over, noting how its leaves are somewhat wilted. She bends a small stream of water to soak into the soil around it, smiling when the plant looks a little livelier than before. She bends the rest of her shield back into liquid form, guiding it back into her water bag.

She hears a gasp, everyone having gathered around a board in the middle of the room. She walks over, curious as to what they’ve found, but her words fall short as soon as her eyes land on pictures of the turtles and April. 

“Uh, Y/n? You should see this.” 

She turns to Raph with raised brows, walking over to see what he’s looking at with such wide eyes. He passes her his flashlight, and she shines it onto a board that’s separate from the rest. 

“Tui’s gills….”

Pictures. 

So many pictures of her litter the board, pinned up with metal thumbtacks in a crazed organization system. Red thread connects them all haphazardly, words scribbled in red onto each. 

There’s a picture of her healing Baxter Stockman, and another of her on the rooftop with Leo. Another is of her healing people during the Kraang Invasion, while one captures her mid-laugh, eyes gleaming with happiness and her nose scrunched at a joke someone says. 

There’s also another of her slumped on the ground in the alleyway, moments away from having blood-bended. Her eyes are dark, her expression blank as blood trickles down the side of her head. Her hand is outstretched to Raph, who’s not captured in the photo, lips parted as if she’s talking to another.

Then there’s another of her with angry tears in her eyes, the close-up shot sending chills down her spine. It captured every emotion she had felt from that night — anger, helplessness, fear…

It’s unsettling. Her hands grip her arms, shuddering at the thought of someone taking all these photos of her without her knowledge. She shines the torch on the hastily scrawled words, beginning to read them.

‘Power over water?’

‘Not of this earth.’

‘Kraang mutant?’

‘The blue one.’

The sentence is scribbled next to a photo of her and Leo looking at each other with gentle smiles as if they’re in their own little bubble. His hand is brushed against hers, and the memory brings a strong heat to her entire face. She sneaks a look around, Raph having walked over to the other board where more photos of their existence are. 

She reaches up, quietly removing the thumbtack and stuffing the photo into her pocket. It’s not like she isn’t creeped out by the photo — It is incredibly weird and unsettling after all. 

But she kinda liked that one.

She shines her torch on the left side of the board, catching a few messily written words on another piece of paper. She moves the torch to shine on it, her breath hitching in her chest when she reads it. 

‘Possible affinity with blood?’

Sudden light-headedness strikes through her head like a shard of pain, her breathing stuttering in her chest. She takes a step back. The red ink starts to bleed, dripping down the pictures of her with a crimson red that both draws her in and terrifies her to her core.

A loud slam draws her attention to Raph, who holds the stranger that followed them to the wall in an aggressive chokehold, his sai pressed to his throat with the intention to intimidate. She shakes her head and blinks rapidly, her racing heart doing nothing to calm how rattled she is.

“Don’t hurt me, I’m a friend!” 

“Stalker’s more like it.” Raph scoffs.

“After all these months, finally face to face with the talking ninja turtles and April O’Neil herself. Even the Water Whisperer, Y/n.” He takes a step toward Y/n with his hands outstretched to grab her shoulders. Leo instantly moves to protect her, drawing his katana and pointing it at the man, who takes a step back, hands raised in surrender.

“You better start talking, pal. What’s with the photos? Who are you?” Leo’s aggressiveness seems to make the man start talking, eyeing his sword nervously.

“The name’s Kurtzman. I was a journalist on the case of the missing scientist last year. Then I discovered something much bigger.” 

He moves to turn on the light, using his arm to sweep off scattered papers and the mug on his desk. He faces them with a book, placing it down on the desk with a thud. “The Kraang.”

He begins to explain, opening the book and showing the research and pictures inside. “The alien infiltration is long-lived. Ancient, in fact. The Kraang have been trying to use the mutagen to terra-form our planet for thousands of years. But they couldn’t use the mutagen in our universe without a specific chain of human DNA. They spent millennia capturing people. Shaping humankind’s genetic code until finally….” 

He lifts up a picture of a baby, and April inhales sharply when she sees it. “That’s me.”

“Your mother was taken by The Kraang before you were born. Then, she was experimented on.” He flips to a family picture of April and her parents. April’s eyes are filled with pure shock, discovering new information about her family for the first time. 

“My mom was experimented on?”

“That’s why you’re so special, April. Your DNA can perfect the mutagen in this dimension.” Kurtzman reveals. 

“I-I think I need to sit down.” April slumps against a chest of drawers, holding her head as she processes everything he’s said. Y/n, on the other hand, has questions. She takes a step towards the man who’s been spying on them. 

“What do you mean when you called me ‘Water Whisperer’?” She questions, her arms crossed defensively across her chest. 

“Because you can control water! I couldn’t believe it at first, but once I saw those bridges made of ice, and the streams of water you surround yourself with, I knew at once you had some sort of power over it. There’s something I’ve been dying to ask, though.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s a fact that the human body consists of up to sixty percent water, with over ninety percent of it making up blood. So theoretically, wouldn’t it be possible that-”

He’s cut off with a single flick of her wrist, a small stream of water instantly covering his mouth and y/n freezing it in a split second. He’s effectively silenced, all four turning to look at her in shock. Her eyes are cold, her outstretched fist that’s aimed at Kurtzman a silent threat. 

“If you complete that sentence, your mouth isn’t going to be the only thing frozen.” 

The promise rings through the quiet room, and she unclenches her fist, bending the water back into its liquid state and back to her side, though the threat reminds everyone exactly how capable she is.

Leo’s about to say something – to check if she’s okay, when the door is slammed open by three disguised Kraang bots. They enter the room with their blasters, armed and ready to fire.

“They found me,” Kurtzman says, his voice filled with fear, “I don’t know how, but they found me.”

“Kraang, the human known as ‘Kurtzman’ has allied himself with the ones called the ‘turtles’, who are turtles.” The bot on the left says.

“Observe, Kraang. Disintegrate first, capture for interrogation later.” The bot on the right says.

All three start firing, beginning to spread out. Y/n’s lips curve up into an empty grin. “You came just in time. I have a few frustrations to take care of.” She jumps out of the way from a blast that’s aimed at her, letting out a cry as she moves her arms in a small arc, bending the water out of her water bag and crafting a spear of ice in an instant. 

She sends it flying at the Kraang bot that’s firing at both her and Mikey, the latter throwing two ninja stars that embed itselves into the gun and its eye, while her spear pierces its abdomen. She hears a sharp squeal of pain that goes quiet after, the bot no longer moving to get up. 

She waves her arm dismissively, bending the water back into its liquid state and reusing it. It’s tinged pink now, having pierced through the Kraang’s very being. She regards it with nonchalance, levitating it above her hand with her fingers around it. 

“Y/n, watch out!” 

Leo’s about to make a move to stab the bot that’s moving behind her but falters in his steps once she turns at his cry and sends the spear through the Kraang in the middle. It leaves a gaping hole through the pink flesh, the bot falling to her feet. 

“Retreat!” Raph cries out as more of the Kraang begin to enter the apartment. They escape through the window, y/n groaning in annoyance when Kurtzman doesn’t make his exit. He flounders, trying to get to his notebook. The Kraang refuse to allow him to get near it, firing away at him. 

She’s so close to just leaving him there. But she sighs, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling him back with as much force as she can muster, falling out the window. 

She’s miscalculated his weight, and they both hurtle toward the ground at a terrifying rate. She doesn’t scream, the sound caught in her chest and only a choked exhale escaping. Was this how she would die? Saving an idiot?

She vaguely feels something circle around her leg, and it tightens when they’re inches away from meeting the pavement. They dangle upside down, and she looks down to see Mikey above them, holding on with all his strength using his nunchucks to secure both her and Kurtzman.

He slowly lowers them to the ground, and she collapses onto the ground, releasing Kurtzman’s collar. She stands back up with a grunt, dusting off the dirt on her clothes and ignoring the man’s pained cries. The creep could take care of himself.

“This way, move!” Leo orders after giving y/n a quick glance over to check if she’s injured. He looks away as soon as he confirms that she isn’t, his eyes hardening. His main priority is to get all of them out, unharmed.

They’re about to leave, but a van screeches to a halt, blocking their means of escape. The doors open, and the Kraang step out in spider-like robots. The clawed ends clatter against the pavement, the sound sending a chill down her spine.

A large blaster is revealed when the front panel moves aside, and they start to fire at everyone around. “This way!” Y/n cries out, gesturing for everyone to leave through the other side of the alleyway. Donnie ushers them into the secret entrance installed that leads to the garage, all of them piling into the ShellRaiser before Leo starts the engine up and drives it to the surface.

“Everyone, brace yourselves!” Leo calls out a single warning, y/n grabbing the closest thing to her, which is a handle attached to the wall of the van.

“Here’s the plan. We’ll infiltrate T.C.R.I. Then, we’ll wipe out all the ingo the Kraang have on April and her DNA.” Kurtzman suggests.

“T.C.R.I? I thought you guys blew that place up.” April points out. Donnie stiffens slightly at the reminder, glancing at y/n who doesn’t notice.

Leo drives to a safer area, everyone getting out and staring at the large building a short distance away in disbelief. “They rebuilt T.C.R.I? Raph mutters.

“We break in, erase April’s DNA codes, and get out. Infiltration only.” Leo orders in a hushed whisper.

“Le’s do this,” April clenches her hands into fists, ready to take action. 

“Great. You and Kurtzman stay outside on lookout.”

“Stay outside? On lookout?” April’s incredibly offended, her hands on her hips. 

“No problem. Take this,” Kurtzman rifles through his pockets, taking out a card and handing it to Leo. “It’s a key card I stole from one of their vans. It’ll get you into T.C.R.I.”

“I can be lookout.” Y/n volunteers, giving her friend a half grin. She shrugs at Leo’s baffled expression. “Hey, give her a chance. It’s the least you can do after you left me behind that night.”

Leo’s wounded expression makes her inhale sharply. She couldn’t help being salty over it still, having felt hurt that they excluded her. “Be careful out there, April.” She cautions her friend.

“Fine,” Leo caves in easily, unable to fight back against her. “Thanks Mr Kurtzman. Look after her.” He says sternly, casting one last worried glance over his shoulder as he leaves with April and the rest. 

Y/n raises a brow. Just who was protecting who, here?

She’s left alone with Kurtzman, who she can see in her peripheral, is just itching to ask her questions. His eager eyes make her sigh, caving in. “What is it?” 

“I just have a few questions. How did you receive your powers? Do you communicate with water? What exactly are your limits? How many phase changes can you make? Do you ever get dehydrated?”

She feels as if she’s a blueprint being studied by Sokka.

“I was born with waterbending. I don’t communicate with water, no. I feel the flow and simply guide it to the results I wish to produce.” She demonstrates using a simple stream of water from her water bag to wrap around her arm in a spiral, Kurtzman watching in fascination and awe. 

“I can change it to be mist or even ice. And yes, I do get dehydrated if I don’t drink enough water. There was a time when I was in the desert and was really tempted to drink cactus juice.” 

“Oh,” He sounds genuinely surprised at the last answer. He hesitates. “About my question from earlier….” 

Y/n tenses, shooting him a glare that tells him to stop. But he pushes on, determined to find an answer. “Doesn’t this mean you can control people’s bodies?”

He waits for an answer, wishing he had a piece of paper to jot everything down. She takes a shaky breath, trying to steel herself. “Mr. Kurtzman. I do not know why you want to know this information, and nor do I plan to reveal it to you. Consider yourself lucky that none of them are around right now, or I would have frozen your entire being right here for speaking of such things.”

“Is that a yes?” 

Her gaze darkens. This man is treading very, very thin ice. “It is a taboo power. A dark one I wish I never knew. Some things, Mr. Kurtzman, are better left unanswered.”

A moment of silence passes, y/n leaning against the wall and mulling over her own thoughts when Mr. Kurtzman speaks up again. “Maybe we should secure a van for their escape.” He suggests.

She moves to stand flat on her feet, nodding in agreement. “How about that one?” He points out a van a few feet away. They make their way over, Kurtzman jimmying the lock smoothly with ease. 

She regards him with a mildly impressed nod. He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Had to secure a few getaway cars myself when investigating the Kraang.”

She sits in the passenger seat, Kurtzman sitting behind the wheel and hotwiring the engine. It starts with a purr, and he sits back up with a satisfied smile. She hears the sound of doors being smashed open, looking at T.C.R.I. to see the four running away from a crowd of Kraang that are chasing after them.

Kurtzman holds down the gas pedal, y/n yelping as the van suddenly moves. They screech to a stop in front of the five making their escape, y/n opening the door. “Get in!” She urges. They pile into the vehicle, Leo shutting the door behind them as Kurtzman drives off.

“What happened? Why is April dressed like that?” She has so many questions, but none get answered as the driver laughs loudly, gleeful at escaping the Kraang.

“Thanks for the save, Mr. Kurtzman.” She had to hand it to him; Leo was anything if not polite.

“I owed you one! So, did you wipe out the Kraang computers?” 

“We did, by the skin of our noses.” Donnie shrugs.

“The only reason we survived was because of April. Whatever you did back there saved us all.”

“I have no clue what I did,” April sighs, clinging to her friend’s arm for emotional support. Y/n pats the top of her head softly, offering comfort in whatever way she can. “I was freaking out and then zap. The Kraang were toast.”

The van slows to a stop, and Leo opens the door for everyone to exit. “Well, I’m off. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on the Kraang. Let me know if you need my expertise again, you know where to find me.” He hands Leo his card.

“And uh, blue one.” Leo’s about to walk off with the rest, April filling y/n in as they walk back to their apartment. Kurtzman gestures for him to come close, and he obediently leans in. He sees Kurtzman hesitate, looking at y/n in case she overhears. 

“Here’s a piece of advice. Watch out for the Water Whisperer. Remember the question I wanted to ask earlier? Remind your brainiac brother about it if you want to stay safe. 

You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

taglist:

@brunnetteiwik

@ivuriexo

@httpjiikook

[adriartts]

a bunch of rough pose practices with twd

[unhonest-iago]

Silk Touch

Gn reader

Imagine finding Techno’s cape while doing the laundry and you notice the white fur borders are caked with blood. ‘How did you get this so dirty?’ Techno paused, looking up, blushing as he knew exactly what you were referring to. ‘Uh, I might use it as a scabbard sometimes.’ Remembering the voices compelling him to wipe the blood of their slaughter, what better way to keep the memory fresh. A little memento so the voices dim in volume. ‘Should I replace it?’ It wasn’t just the blood, it was also the areas patched with woolen material. The edges fraying and the color fading. ‘You think? I’ll see if Philza can accompany me to the market. Bird brain will probably need something anyways.’

‘He did what with his cape?’ Philza exclaimed, wishing he could say he wasn’t surprised yet here he was. His friends always having a way to one up their prior shenanigans. ‘He wiped coochie slayer—don’t look at me like that, Techno’s the one who named it that—on it. So, do you want to go with me or not?’ The half-avian grabbing his namesake bucket hat before locking up shop. ‘Yea, need to stock up on birdseed anyway, I ran out yesterday.’ Y/n giving Phil an odd look this time.

During their leave, all the voices could talk about was y/n. ‘Where have they gone? What if they can’t protect themselves? What if they get hurt?’ Reminding himself that they were with Phil and that he trusted the avian with his life. That y/n was capable, having gone out of his way to teach them self defense, and that they weren’t a mere damsel. Techno decided to farm some potatoes to distract from it all, relying on pure muscle memory. ‘Are you okay Pinkie Pie? Didn’t know I’d be missed that much.’ Dropping the bag so they could receive the full extent of his bear hug. Bird brain smiling to himself, simply realizing how smitten his standoffish friend was. ‘Shut up…but yes.’ A reluctant admittance.

‘I tried matching the color but no one had the exact shade. Or if they did, it wasn’t the correct size.’ Adding on a golden clasp, they handed it off to the piglin. The voices once more a whisper, all feeling the familiar weight on his broad shoulders. Enough train to flow behind him as he marched. ‘Promise me you won’t use this one to wipe off your blade.’

‘I promise.’ Techno kissed the crown of y/n’s head in thanks.

[iam93percentstardust]

Prompt: tony can’t get enough of Steve’s strength and Steve loves it bc he’s still quite self conscious of his body? 💚

I realized halfway through writing this that you probably meant for a canon-compliant fic, but I was already so deep into the worldbuilding for this little science fiction fic (seriously, you don't even know how much unnecessary worldbuilding I did) so I kept with it

Also on ao3 here!

~

“Steve!” Tony hollers through the communicator. Steve glances up from the board game he’s playing with Natasha and Clint and over at where the communicator hangs from the ship’s wall. He still doesn’t really understand the technology behind the communicators even after a year of being awake, but they’re hung all over the Avenger’s Shieldand he won’t deny that they’re useful.

“I’m here,” he says at a normal volume, knowing that JARVIS will easily pick up what he’s saying and transmit it to Tony. Tony’s just being loud because he’s always loud and because he’s down in the engine room of the ship with all its noises from the conversion of stardust into energy.

“Great! I need your muscley goodness down here like yesterday.”

Steve hides a smile and stands, passing his pieces off to Clint, who’s losing worse than either Steve or Natasha. “Here, you can have mine. Not sure how long I’ll be down there.”

Clint’s eyes narrow and Steve tries not to fidget under the cybernetic enhancements. When he went into the ice nearly three hundred years ago, mankind didn’t even dream of space travel, at least not realistic space travel, and now they’ve got colonies on galaxies as far away from their own, it makes his head spin. Humans have peace treaties with over two thousand alien civilizations. And mechanical body enhancements, meant to augment humans for travel and work and sometimes sheer entertainment, are as common as breathing. But Steve, with his serum-induced enhancements, is somehow still the odd one out.

“You know,” Clint says, “you don’t have to help him out if you don’t want to. Tony means well but that doesn’t mean he can’t be abrasive sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says truthfully. Everyone else on this ship seems to dance around his non-cybernetic enhancements—and around the fact that he’d been frozen in the ice caps, now stretching as far south as Florida, for three hundred years—but Tony never once seemed to care. He’s thrilled about Steve’s enhancements—no one else on the ship is quite as strong as Steve is, not since Thor joined the crew of the Milano—both because of what Steve can help him with and because of what the serum means for scientific advancement, though Steve hasn’t let Bruce or Yinsen take any of his blood yet.

He heads down into the belly of the ship, pausing once at one of the portholes to look out at the stars flashing by them. It still amazes him that humans have achieved all of this (and horrifies him that they achieved this but left their own planet behind).

Tony’s “lair” (as Clint calls it) is located at the very bottom of the ship. It’s here that Tony holds his court, making sure that the engines that run the ship are still intact and running smoothly, tinkering with other projects that the other crewmembers give to him, and designing improved systems for the Shield, whether that’s comms, mechanical, or even medical. Tony does it all. According to Natasha, Tony, who’s one of the few nonhumans on the ship, was once a member of high society on his home planet, Aur’a, but left it all behind to join the Shield and travel the galaxy.

Steve opens the door and is immediately met with a wave of heat. It’s always hot down here. Tony says it’s because of the celestial energy, that stars run so hot that even residue energy is still too hot for unenhanced humans to handle. Fortunately, neither Steve nor Tony are unenhanced, and Steve would be willing to bet that the reason it’s so hot in the engine room today is because Tony is working with raw stardust.

The copper pipes running the room are too close to avoid bumping into for someone as large as Steve, so he doesn’t even bother trying to avoid them, letting them brush against his skin as he follows the sound of Tony humming. When he’d first joined the crew, he’d been worried about Tony complaining that Steve couldn’t move around the engine room without knocking something over, but Tony has never once complained, only just made easygoing jokes about bulls in china shops and told him that the pipes are built to withstand forces a lot stronger than Steve. It had gone a long way toward helping him feel comfortable in the space and now he spends a lot of time down here, talking with Tony about the mechanics of the ship, even though a lot of it goes over his head.

He ducks underneath one of the pipes and rounds a corner to find Tony sitting on a bench, carefully chipping at a speck of stardust on the benchtop in front of him. Tony once told him that it only takes a miniscule amount of stardust to power the ship for an entire week, which is good because stardust is difficult to mine. Tony’s goggles are perched on top of his nose, giving him an owlish appearance. Steve finds it adorable, but he waits until Tony is done with the chisel before walking over to drop a kiss on top of his hair.

The rest of the crew doesn’t know that they’ve been seeing each other for a month. After their first kiss, Steve had asked if it would be okay to keep it quiet a little longer. Steve’s brain is still firmly convinced at times that they’re in the forties, so the idea that he can date a man and have it be as accepted as dating a woman is still a little foreign to him. Tony had been more than accommodating though, which is only one of the reasons Steve loves him so much.

“Oh!” Tony exclaims, clearly startled. “Didn’t realize you were already here.” He turns, pushing his goggles up to his hair. “Did you get even more muscley since the last time I saw you?”

“Tony, you saw me this morning,” Steve says amusedly.

“Right you are, Capsicle, but I still stand by what I said,” Tony shoots back with a cheeky wink. He runs his hands over Steve’s biceps, making a low purring sound under his breath. Steve just barely manages to hear it over the sound of the engines, and it makes him smile.

Sometimes, he still feels self-conscious about his size. Spending most of his life looking and feeling one way only to change in only seconds had been disorienting, and he hadn’t had much of a chance to get used to his size before he’d been thrown into the war and then frozen in the ice. Tony’s always good to talk to though when he needs someone to remind him that this is okay, that he isn’t taking up too much room just by existing. Somehow, he always manages to get to the heart of Steve’s insecurities and allay them.

He indulges in Tony’s warm touch for a little longer before asking, “So what did you need me for?”

Tony perks up, spinning on his heel and picking up the speck of stardust with his bare hand. “I need your help opening the converter door so I can toss this in. Something must have gotten damaged during the battle with the Hydra’s Scales, because it’s not opening for me.”

“Huh,” Steve says, following Tony through the warren of copper pipes toward the energy converter. He has no idea how Tony knows where he’s going without a map. Steve still sometimes needs a map and he’s lived on this ship for a year. “That’s not something you can fix?”

“Not with what I’ve got on ship. I’ll ask Fury if we can stop in Knowhere later this week. They’ve probably got what I need.”

“Wow, Tony Stark admitting he can’t jury-rig a solution from his lab. Hell must have frozen over,” Steve comments, grinning when Tony turns to scowl at him.

“You shut your mouth,” Tony growls.

“Or what?”

Tony’s eyes turn dark and heated. He slinks closer to Steve, runs his fingers up Steve’s chest, and purrs, “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

Steve’s brain shuts down. “Uh…”

“But not right now,” Tony says abruptly, tweaking Steve’s nipple through his shirt. He spins back around and marches off, leaving Steve floundering in his wake. He gapes after him for a second before hurrying to catch up.

“You,” he says, carefully bumping Tony’s shoulder with his—he doesn’t want Tony to drop the stardust after all—“are a menace.”

“That’s me: mechanic and professional menace,” Tony says cheerfully.

They stop beside the energy converter. Steve can immediately see what Tony means by there being something wrong with it. The converter is made out of some sort of transparent material—Steve doesn’t know what—so he can see right in to where something is twisted in the converter itself, partially fusing the door shut. Even Tony, with all his abilities as an Aurum, can’t reach into an active energy converter without burning his hand to ashes, and the converter has to stay active or they’ll be dead in space, so they’ll have to stop somewhere where he can make the necessary repairs.

“See?” Tony says. “I need someone who can muscle that open for me.”

“Well, I’ve definitely got muscles.”

“Mmm, yes you do,” Tony murmurs. Steve wonders if Tony’s thinking about the same thing he is: that time he pinned Tony to the walls of their shared bunk and—well, now’s not the time to be thinking about that.

He grabs onto the wheel and wrenches it to the left. Tony sure hadn’t been kidding; the wheel doesn’t budge at all. He applies more of his strength, muscles bulging. Under the squeal of metal, he hears Tony’s breath catch, and he grins saucily at him. Tony sticks his tongue out and gestures at the wheel again.

“Come on, Captain Crunch. Put your back into it.”

Steve, having no idea what Captain Crunch is supposed to be a reference to, makes a mental note to ask Tony about it once they’re done here. For now, though, he uses all of his strength and slowly—so slowly—the wheel turns, protesting the entire way. Eventually, he gets it open, letting another blast of heat into the engine room. Tony tosses the stardust in. It flares in the heat of the converter, setting off beautiful gold and purple sparks. Steve closes the door. It closes a lot easier than it opened. Tony hums thoughtfully at it.

“Well, that narrows things down,” he says, once the door is fully closed.

“What, that it was easier to close than it was to open?”

“Mmhmm. Only a few things that could be. Probably need to tell the One-Eyed Pirate though that we have to stop on Xandar instead of Knowhere. I don’t think Fujikawa will have what I need. Steve, don’t let me forget to tell Fury the course change.”

“Got it.”

“And thanks, by the way. Definitely couldn’t have done it without you.”

Steve glows at the praise. Maybe it’s silly, but it’s nice to be reminded that even in this oversized, clumsy body out of time, he’s still able to do some good. “Happy to help,” he says honestly.

They head back to Tony’s little work area, Tony eagerly chattering on about the project he’s working on for Natasha. Steve listens, fingers itching for the drawing tablet he’d left in the galley with Natasha and Clint. Tony is lovely when he’s animatedly talking about his inventions. Steve has half a dozen folders saved on his tablet, filled with nothing but different poses of Tony.

Tony leans up against the workbench and pulls Steve in, looping his hands around his neck. “Now, where were we earlier?” he hums, eyes dark.

“Careful,” Steve warns, bracing himself with hands on either side of Tony’s body. “I might crush you.”

“You might,” Tony agrees, though he doesn’t sound concerned at all. “And I might like that. All that coiled strength pinning me down? Oh, honey, yes.” He shivers, a small delighted smile curling his lips up.

“You just like me for my body,” Steve accuses. It isn’t the truth and he knows that. Tony loves him for many reasons; Steve’s strength is only one of them. But it’s fun to tease his lover and Tony is always happy when he does. He frequently worries that Steve is too serious.

“Yes, darling, that’s exactly it.” Tony kisses him lightly. Steve lets himself lean into Tony’s body a little more, grinning when Tony shudders against him.

He pulls away, tucking his head against the curve of Tony’s neck. “Thank you,” he breathes. He doesn’t know how Tony always knows when Steve is feeling self-conscious about his body, but he somehow does and he always comes up with something that’ll help.

Tony strokes his hair. “Anytime, darling. Anytime.”

[boontaeveboba]

Maybe in time, You’ll Understand

Pairing: crosshair x fem!reader

Rating: M (18+)

A/N: a wave of sadness/fear of Crosshair’s role in the Bad Batch show /(potential spoilers?) inspired this. It’s soft-ish and sad and I love him and just want him to be happy.

The frantic knocking at your apartment door was so soft you thought you were dreaming, but as the tapping grew heavier you knew immediately who it was.

“Crosshair?” You blinked into the dark, throwing on a robe and heading towards the door.

His face was incredibly sullen.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t expect you by this late.”

That was somewhat of a lie, you know he and his brothers kept odd hours. Normally he had the decency to let you know ahead of time if he would drop by.

He glanced over his shoulder worriedly and drew in a shaky breath, “May I come in?”

He looked nervous.

“Of course.”

He nodded and you shut the door behind him as he headed straight to the bedroom.

“Cross, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He sat at the edge of the bed with his hands in his face. You’d never seen him so worked up and upset.

You squatted down, just below his eye level, running a hand over one of his, trying to garner his attention.

“You can talk to me.” You reassured him.

“It’s wrong.” Crosshair responded.

“What’s wrong?”

“All of it!” He threw up his hands defeatedly, and with enough force to cause you to flinch back. He had been crying.

“Cross, you’re really starting to worry me. Are you alright?”

“No! It’s not alright! I’m not alright!” He began, his eyes darted around the room before finally meeting your gaze. “They’re wrong! It’s all wrong!”

“Who?” You asked quietly.

“All of them! All of it! We’re just a small part of it!” He got up and began pacing.

“I had suspicions,” he paused and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. “I never thought-“

He paused and looked back at you.

“I didn’t...I wanted it to be...my brothers, we-“

“Where are they, Cross? Why are you back here?”

“I didn’t mean-“ he sat back on the bed, his eyes welling up.

“I needed a safe place.” He reached out for you and slowly, you obliged, coming to stand in front of him. He grabbed onto your robe and buried his face into your hip.

“I can’t,” he said softly.

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t, I can’t...stay long.” He paused and looked up at you. A tear ran down his face.

You ran a hand down his scalp, trying to calm him and keep his focus on you.

What was he talking about? What had happened?

“There are things, things I need to do. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He said, tone more serious now.

“Is there anything I can do? I still don’t understand what has you so upset.”

That seemed to snap him out of his sadness for a moment. His hands ran along your hips and he pulled you down to sit on his lap, scooting further up the bed.

He placed a palm against your cheek and you leaned into it, eyes never leaving his.

“I can’t tell you...everything that happened. But it’s bad. I-“

He looked shamefully at the ground.

“Hey,” you said, placing your hands on either side of his face, redirecting his attention to you, “it’s okay. I love you, you know that. No matter what.”

He drew in a shaky breath. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He muttered.

He anticipated your flinch back and wrapped his arms around your frame to keep you in place.

He held you tightly to his taut frame. His lips found their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses before they made their way up to your ear.

“I can’t explain everything. Not right now.”

He moved his head back, checking for your undivided attention. He noted the worried and pained expression you held, but didn’t say anything other than, “I wish I could tell you. I can’t, but know in time, you’ll understand. You’ll know.”

You blinked.

What had happened?

But you would push those questions to the back of your mind, you wanted to comfort him, to wipe the scared, pained look off the man holding onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this planet.

“Please, just...” he let another shaky breath, “I need you.”

“I’m here Cross.”

“Just be with me.”

You responded by kissing him. Softly, you were still unsure how best to comfort him.

As soon as his lips met yours, something broke in Crosshair.

He flipped you over, so your back was on the bed, his body looming over you.

His hands found the opening of the robe and he tore it away, leaving you only in a sheer nightgown.

“Cross, please,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but brought his mouth back to yours.

He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, before biting down on it.

You yelped at the harshness of the action.

“Shhh.” He said. His mouth now was running down your neck and nipping at your collar bones.

His pelvis was grinding into yours and you felt him straining against the fabric of his uniform.

As he continued his onslaught of kisses on your upper body, his hands wedged your legs apart, allowing him to grind up against where you wanted him most.

“Let’s get this annoying thing out of the way first shall we?” He said before hiking your nightgown up over your body and head.

“There,” He paused, using the time to take in all of you, the moonlight illuminating your bodies through the window, “Much better.”

His hands trailed from your shoulders, down your chest, to your hips. He rubbed small circles down the hip bone to your thighs and knees.

“Now these,” he said, running a hand over the sleek underwear covering you, “these need to go.”

You nodded, reaching down to shuck the offending item of clothing off.

“Your turn.” You smirked at him.

He allowed a small smile, sitting up and stepping off the bed, he removed his shirt and the entirety of everything covering his bottom half.

Now it was your turn to marvel at him in the moonlight. His skin was slicked with sweat, and you noticed fresh bruises up and down his body.

He came back to you, noting your concerned glances.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you. He ran a hand through your hair and twisted and pulled it over the side of your neck.

“Just focus on me now.” He said, placing hot open mouthed kisses along your jaw, moving lower. “I need you here with me.”

“Cross...” you whined as one free hand began to toy with your entrance. A finger brushing against your most sensitive spot.

“Yes,” he hissed, “just like that. Say my name, darling.”

The hand not working you over ran up and down your thigh.

Your head fell back as you felt him add another finger. You had to admit, his “trigger fingers” as you had affectionally referred to them, knew exactly what they were doing. Like the rest of his body, they were long and surprisingly nimble.

Crosshair felt your body begin to tremble and he brought his face back to yours to kiss it and whisper “That’s right, you look so lovely coming undone just by my hand.”

“Crosshair,” you breathed into his mouth as you felt an orgasm ripple through you.

He let you ride it out before bringing his other hand to sweep the hair out of your face.

He made a point of licking the fingers that had just gotten you off, before reaching to his own shaft.

He let out a soft groan as you replaced your hand with his along his ever hardening cock.

“I won’t last long, you keep that up,” he muttered.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You responded, continuing your ministrations.

“But I’d rather be inside you for that.”

With that he pushed you back down and braced an arm close to your shoulder.

“Cross, please,”

“Don’t worry,” he said running his tip teasingly against your entrance. “I want to savor this moment.”

He peered down at you, deciding to capture your mouth with his.

As he did you felt him slide in you briefly, before pulling back out. Before repeating the action, twice.

“You’re such a tease.” You quipped.

“Tease? No, I don’t think so.”

And with that, he pushed all the way in, filling you completely.

“That’s a good girl.” He said, still looming over you.

Securing yourself by wrapping your legs around his hips, you reached your hands to his face and captured your mouth with his.

His teeth clacked against your own, fighting for control over the kiss.

Your hips ground to his and he let out a low groan. He thrust against you.

“Relax your legs a bit sweetheart,”

You did and felt his arm slide behind you.

With more strength than you realized he had, Crosshair’s arm yanked you as close to him as possible. He pulled you up towards a more of a seated position and began snapping his hips up to yours.

“Oh!” You said surprisedly, feeling him much deeper.

He chuckled. “Can feel so much more of you this way,” he grunted.

You groaned.

“Atta girl. You’re doing so well, taking so much of me.”

“Cross...” you moaned.

He responded by trying to quicken the pace, but you placed a palm against his chest.

“Can I top you?” You asked.

A small smirk played on his face, “No.”

You were taken back. “No?”

“No.”

With that he pressed you back down into the bed, supporting himself by one arm, he thrust into you, the other arm grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to his.

“I need you here. With me. Just like this.”

You still were unsure. You trusted Crosshair with every fiber of your being, but he wasn’t usually like this.

It was as if you were anchoring him to something. Yourself? An escape from whatever had happened?

You didn’t have time to think about it more because his mouth was back to yours, his other hand grabbing and running over the rest of your body. His thrusts becoming more rigorous.

You felt him beginning to tense up. He moved his mouth to your ear, “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you too, Crosshair.”

It wasn’t that much longer til you both were crying out each other’s names, thrusting becoming more erratic, as he came down from his high.

You stroked a sensitive spot just below his ear to the nape of his neck, peppering it with kisses every so often.

He shuddered and you felt him pull out.

His arms circled your entire body and he squeezed you impossibly tight.

After a beat, he whispered to you, “I don’t have long.”

You weren’t sure what the appropriate words would be but settled on, “it’s alright. I understand.”

You didn’t. Why wouldn’t he tell you?

He held you close for a bit longer, but it only felt like a moment before he pulled away and began redressing.

You watched him carefully, noticing the sullen look from when he first arrived making his way back onto his face.

“Cross,” you began quietly.

He kept dressing, but his attention was brought to you.

You weren’t sure what to say.

“I’ll still be here for you, no matter what.”

You saw the briefest glimmer of hope pass over his face.

“I know.” He said softly.

“You know where to find me,” you continued sitting up.

“I do.” He nodded, pulling on the final bits of his uniform.

He turned to you, the moonlight casting an uneasy shadow across his face. He pulled you to stand in front of him.

He held a palm to your cheek, as he did earlier in the evening. You nuzzled against it and placed a kiss to it.

He closed his eyes, as if to savor the moment.

“I-“ you began before he snaked a hand to the nape of you neck to bring you in for an kiss.

You had never been kissed like this in your life. It was as if the whole world had been yanked from beneath your feet. It was planet shattering, you felt the unspoken need and desire in his kiss. He wanted to tell you everything, but was kissing you as though that day might never come.

When he finally pulled away, he looked at you, taking all of you in.

“As soon as I can, I’ll, I’ll...” his eyes began to well up again.

“Hey,” you said, “it’s alright. Like you said, one day I’ll understand.”

He smirked briefly and nodded.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Crosshair.”

And with that he was out the door back into the night, leaving you to wait and wonder.

[quietmyfearswith]

obssessed ; preferences

warnings — stalking, nonconsensual location/location tracking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, knife, mentions of killing someone (no actual murder)

characters — dark!andy barber, dark!steve rogers, dark!ransom drysdale, dark!bucky barnes, dark!clark kent, dark!syverson, dark!august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH DARK THEMES,, dni if youre not 18+,, just a thought that played around in my mind so yeah. lmk what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays | cartoons

masterlist

To celebrate the case they won they held a little party at the office; though Andy wasn’t in a celebratory mood. With his hand clasped together against his lips, his eyes were watching closely his phone screen as he was awaiting a text from his beloved girlfriend who promised to be here. “Hey Andy, we’re popping the champagne already; are you joining us?” Tearing his attention away from the device, he smiled a bit as he told them, “I will once Y/N comes over.”  Tess, the assistant who invited him, chuckled a bit before leaving him alone in his office, “Staring at the phone won’t make her come over any quicker you know?” It was something they never really confronted Andy about — almost everyone at the office noticed how he had a firm grip around the girl, but no one dared to question or comment about it because they know how the skilled lawyer would come after them once they do — but silently they understood that if you spoke, let alone looked at her, badly it wouldn’t end well for everyone.

As the door shut once Tess walked away, his intense gaze returned once again to the mobile phone as he awaits a response from his girl. “Baby! I’m here now,” Snapping his head to the source of the sound, he immediately stood up and hugged Y/N as he let out a relieved sigh. “Where were you? And most importantly why didn’t you answer my text or return my calls hm?” Rolling her eyes with how her boyfriend was grilling her as if she was one of the witnesses he had on his case she apologized, “I’m sorry, baby. I got held up at the salon because my mani took longer than expected,” Her manicured nails then raised her phone to show how even as she pressed the button it wouldn’t turn on, “And my phone ran out of battery.” Wrapping an arm around her, he removed her bag and left it by the coat hanger and guided them to where the party was. “I’m gonna buy you a portable charger, baby; that way you won’t ever run out.” Innocently, she smiled and thanked him with a kiss on the lips before saying hello to his colleagues whom she got along well. That way the tracker I put on your phone will always be turned on, he deviously thought to himself as he sipped some of his champagne.

“Another long day huh?” August asked as he peeked his head around Y/N’s cubicle. It was quite odd to say the least — a field agent of his caliber not having his own office instead opting for a cubicle beside one of CIA’s lanky desk jockey? It was one of the questions she asked the infamous Hammer as he settled on the office cubicle beside hers, “Why settle for a tiny office station?” She asked to which he chuckled at as he explained, “Half the year I’m somewhere around the world; so what’s the point of having a big office if I don’t enjoy it all year round?” It was a good, solid point — one she so easily believed without a second thought — but unfortunately it was all a lie. Ever since Walker saw her once at a meeting Sloane held, he was hooked. Initially it was just her beauty and energy, but as he got to know her more he fell for who and what she was. “Yeah, I might need to stay a bit longer than usual,” She replied as she lifted the files she held, pinning the blame on the current target that needed to be researched on. “How ‘bout some coffee then?” Ears ringing with joy at his offer, she looked at him with an appreciative look as she nodded. Chuckling at her reaction, he stood up and trodden over the pantry. Installing surveillance devices on her work computer and cameras around her desk paid off since it allowed him to know everything there is to discover about her — her favorite artists, pet peeves, how she liked her coffee, home address, mobile phone number, even her social security number!

“How’d you know how I like my coffee?” She asked after taking a sip of the hot beverage; with a smile he shrugs as he pretends to get back to the work on his computer, “Well it was just a wild guess.” In her mind however, she did find her tastes to be quite basic and didn’t doubt August which was a relief to the field agent. “I think I’ll be going home now,” She announced as she shut off her computer and began to clean up her desk. “Need a ride home?” He knew she did, since he overheard her talking to a mechanic earlier that day about a defect her car suddenly had, “Yeah I do actually, but I wouldn't want to hassle you.” Quickly putting on his brown coat, he was standing up as he fished his keys out, “Nonsense! I don’t mind helping a colleague out.” Conceding, she took up his generous offer with a smile. As they were making an easy-going conversation, Y/N gave her address; but what she didn’t know is that not only did August know by heart where she lived, but he had also paid her house a visit multiple times in the past.

With an arm draped around her shoulder, Bucky and Y/N walked around the farmer’s market; the latter whined endlessly to her boyfriend how she wanted to buy some products. And though the thought of going out in the crowds wasn’t at all appealing to him, the need to make her smile made him go anyway. Leading him up to the different stalls, the former Winter Soldier couldn’t help but chuckle at how she would coo and be all excited for the different groceries, clothes, and figurines. “Slow down, doll. The market’s not going anywhere,” Bucky told her as he tailed behind her as he carried over 10 different bags filled with her purchases. It wouldn’t normally be a problem for him to look after her, but as the path became filled with people and him being preoccupied with the bags he held made him unable to keep a grip on her. With worried, drifting eyes, he was searching for his girlfriend who seemed to have blended right up with the bustling crowds, “Y/N? Doll? Where are you?” 

Setting the bags down on a vacant table, he then spotted her standing by a stall that sold her favorite food. His relieved smile was soon being replaced with a scowl as she was talking and laughing with another man. Whipping out the knife he kept on the pocket of his jeans, he was ready to torture the man. But as Y/N turned to him with a wide smile, it had him hiding the knife out of her sight, “Bucky! Look it’s Sam, my cousin!” Upon her introducing who the man was, the knife that was hidden was being kept back into its original hiding spot before he shook hands with the man, “Oh! Nice meeting you same, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” As they shook hands Sam had given them both a look as he sassed, “I know who you are! This one,” He referred to Y/N by pinching her side as she smacked his hand and giggled, “Won’t stop gushing about you every time we talk.” Seeing how she was clinging to his metal arm as she nuzzled her cheek to his side was all the confirmation Bucky needed; Sam then excused himself, “Well you got to swing by one of our family gatherings, yeah Bucky?” Nodding, they all exchanged farewells before the couple headed to the table where their bags still were — thankfully not stolen. “You shouldn’t have run off like that, doll. Got me real worried for a second,” He gently scolded her with a stern look. Pouting, she defended herself, “I’m sorry, Bucky! I just saw these cute little mason jars, but they were too expensive so I walked away. Then I smelt something delicious so I followed it and it turned out it was my favorite food; but Sam was there so I chatted with him instead.” Ending her enthusiastic breakdown of events with a sweet peck on the lips, he told her, “Doll you know that I would have bought you anything your sweet heart wanted. Just don’t go anywhere without me okay?”

The soft ping on his phone made Jensen pause his movements as he was selecting  a movie that you both would watch; eyebrow raising when he noticed that a certain “Steve” was texting you. Opening the text through the software he installed on both your phones allowed him to see every activity you do on your phone — but it wasn’t the only feature it had for it also allowed him to change the texts, emails, and other settings on her phone. A frown graced his handsome features as he read the text, “ Hey Y/N I can squeeze you in on Thursday, at 3pm. Are you free by then?” Displeased, he then sent a text to the guy saying how his assistance wouldn’t be needed any more. And he edited the text Steve sent her to make it seem that it was Steve that texted how he could no longer accommodate her. “Got some chips and chocolates!”

Her excited voice brought his attention from his phone screen to her excited face as she plopped herself beside him. “Thanks, babe,” Kissing her forehead, he sneakily looked over to where she was unlocking her phone and reading the text; noticing how she pouted he inquired, “What's wrong, babe?” Snuggling up to his side after sending a reply, she explained, “Steve said he can’t meet up with me anymore.” As he was rubbing her back, he faked the symphony, “Aw that’s too bad; why did you even need to meet up with Steve anyway?” She did not pick up on the faint hints of darkness on his tone, “He was my dentist! He was going to determine whether I need to have surgery for my tooth, remember?” At the revelation of who Steve really was, the  communications and technology expert felt slightly guilty but he was quick to reassure her, “Don’t worry baby I know a dentist who can help you.” Feeling her hum appreciatively against him, she planted a kiss on his cheek as they both focused on the movie; and as her eyes were trained on the screen, he whispered lowly, “You're only gonna be around people I trust, babe.”

There was a reason Sy had chosen a house that was nearly thirty minutes away from downtown — it was so their friends and families would feel lazy or discouraged to visit them due to the distance and time it took to get there. “Where on earth do you need to be today, petal?” Sy’s morning voice huskily rasped out in her ear; they both had just woken up and as Y/N was moving to stand up from the bed, she was being trapped in his muscular arms for a hug. Giggling at how he was being, she rolled around so they would be facing each other, “‘M going out with my friends today — Sophia and Rose have been bugging me about how we don’t hang out as often anymore.” At the mention of her going out and leaving him, Sy’s mood deflated and his eyes went wide; this wasn’t how he pictured this day going. “But petal, you’re gonna leave me all alone in this big house? ‘M gonna miss you so much,” The former army captain whined as she got out of his grasp and heading to wash up in their ensuite bathroom — not before bopping his nose as she reminded him, “Well you chose this house, bear. Plus, it’s only just for a while.”

Sitting up on their bed the man could only cross his arms and grumble, which was interrupted with her phone ringing. After seeing that it was her friend, Sophia, who was calling he then answered it for her, “Hey Y/N! Can’t wait to see you; we’ll pick you up in 20 minutes okay?” Taking the opportunity, Sy then decided to fabricate a lie, “Oh hey Sophia, it’s Sy,” He paused before saying the next parts in a hushed tone, “Y/N won’t be able to make it since she hurt her foot two days ago when going down the stairs. I know she was so looking forward to seeing you. Will do, bye.” With a smirk, the man set her phone back down on the nightstand, just in time since Y/N exited the bathroom, “Who was that, bear?” Making his way over to her, he hugged her as he kissed her forehead, “Sophia, calling to say she’s gonna have to cancel because she’s sick. And Rose was called in to work.” It was clear on her face that she was disappointed because she was looking forward to catching up with her friends, but her boyfriend tried to mirror her expression when in reality he was overjoyed with getting her all to himself. “Guess that leaves just the two of us, petal. Don’t worry, we’re gonna have fun today.” 

“Fucking hell,” Ransom cursed as he was speeding to go to where your tracker said you were. He had gifted you a necklace six months into the relationship, and it was costly not just because of the intricate design it has but also because he had put a tracker on it to keep tabs of your whereabouts — not that you knew about it. You both had a fight the night before, and it didn’t end well since it led to the two of you sleeping in separate rooms and Ransom drinking away his misery. So imagine his surprise when he woke up and found how you weren’t in the house and he noticed as well how a duffel bag that was in your shared walk-in closet was gone; the writer thought of the worst possibilities. And his anger went through the roof when he saw how you were at his grandfather’s house; it was one thing that you guys fought, but to involve his family in this? That was bound to be a fucking mess. As he parked the car by the driveway, he stepped out in rushed steps that were slowed down by the two dogs barking and crowding him, “Shoo, get away, mutts!” He scared them away and entered the house, “Alright where is she?” His yell echoed through the walls as Marta who was walking from the kitchen and into the foyer was startled, “Hugh, what brings you here?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Knowing Y/N’s secret, the nurse swallowed nervously as she reluctantly told the truth, “She’s with Harlan at the gathering area.” On his way there he noticed how there were some party decorations — some colorful streamers and balloons — on the walls before he saw his girlfriend who was looking through something on her iPad, “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice caused her to gasp out loud as she looked like a deer caught off guard by headlights; standing up she walked towards him, her hands gripping onto his forearms, “We fight and you end up here to my grandfather to what? Complain and seek refuge?” Though his words stung she chose not to feed onto his anger, “Can you promise to listen out to me first?” Seeing how she was calm and not as mad as the night before, he gulped down and nodded. “When you accused me of cheating on you, it hurt because I knew that that wasn’t the truth,” She paused briefly to monitor his reactions, and she knew that he would then ask what was up with her behavior so she addressed it before being prompted to, “And the reason why I seem to be distant or busy these past few days is because I was planning on throwing a surprise party for you — for the success of your book.” At her explanation he could feel his entire body relax at the relief of him not having to kill anyone; also it made sense to him why his grandfather’s house had some ornaments hanging. Pulling her close to him, he hugged her tight as he kissed the top of her head, “Princess, I was so close to killing someone, you have no idea.” Swatting his back, she laughed at him, “I think you owe me an apology, mister. Not only did you ruin the surprise but you also accused me of cheating on you.” Smirking at her he replied, “I’ll make it up to you for the rest of our lives, princess, don’t you worry about it.” And he meant every single word of that promise; for he knew he wanted no one else but her.

The mission went well since the new agents did their jobs well — even exceeding Steve’s expectations of how they would handle the pressure and what decisions they would make in order for the mission to be a success. As the quinjet landed and they were given the clearance to exit the aircraft, the super soldier frowned when he took note how his girlfriend wasn’t anywhere near the landing pad. She always welcomes me back, he thought. The weight of his duffle bag on his arm didn’t matter to him as the feeling of worry and anxiety about his girl was way heavier. Immediately, he headed to their shared living quarters where he hoped she would be, “Kitten? I’m home,” His voice bounced off the walls as he dropped his bag on the floor and looked through every nook of the room. Now his anger and confusion was through the roof and he then decided to consult, “Friday, where’s Y/N?”

“She’s at the common area with Sam and Pietro, Captain,” As soon as AI mentioned where she was he found himself striding briskly towards her location. If she was with Bucky, it wouldn’t have alarmed him as much. But the Captain had a hunch that Sam secretly liked his girl and had plans of stealing him away from him; while Pietro was a natural flirt and joker. Even just by standing at the doorway he heard his beloved’s giggles as Sam recalled an exaggerated story. “There you are, kitten,” He let out, relieved upon seeing his girl alive in one piece. Turning her head, she smiled widely upon seeing her boyfriend and abandoned her conversation with the two Avengers to run to Steve with open arms. “Steve! I missed you so much,” She squealed as the super soldier caught her effortlessly and wrapped his thick arms tightly around her figure. “What are you doing with these troublemakers, kitten?” He wondered out loud, completely ignoring two offended looks from the said men. “I was bored of waiting for you in our room so I went here,” She was cut off from her explanations when Sam added, “That, and we missed hanging out with Y/N!” Even though Y/N giggled, Steve was trying his best to control his rage; but Pietro wanted to push him further to his limits by saying, “You hog her all the damn time we forget how great her company is!” the only girl in the room squealed as she was being carried off by Steve, “Well I don’t want you around her that’s why I hog my girl around.” Everyone around the super soldier still thought that he was joking and decided to laugh it off; Sam’s voice called out to them once more to tell a joke before they both had fully exited the room, “Yeah? Well why don’t you just lock her up in a secluded house then?” That’s exactly my plan, Sam, Steve smirked to himself quietly.

Clark needed an escape that night; for someone who has inhumane powers the stress of his job at the Daily Planet can definitely take a toll on one person — so he decided to go flying around at night, just to take his mind off things. As he was flying, he sensed trouble and decided to check out what was happening. It was a woman who was being bothered by her ex who was clearly under the influence, “Goddamn it, Alex! I told you I don’t want to talk to you!” Y/N was trying her best to push him away, but even in his drunken state he had a  tight grip on her forearms. “Just wanna talk to you, baby,” He sing-songed as he tried to push his body closer to hers. “I think she made it clear that she doesn’t want to,” A booming voice spoke up, causing Y/N to gasp out loud when she saw Superman himself; Alex however grunted at the searing pain on his shoulder caused by the mysterious man, the pain weakening his hold on the girl to the point where he tore his hands away from Y/N to push away the weight on his shoulder. In his drunken state, he failed to piece together how it was the infamous hero in front of him — instead all he saw was a tall, muscular man and decided he didn’t want to have his face beaten up so he just walked away with his arms up in surrender. “Are you alright, miss?” Clark gently asked the woman who felt relieved she was no longer being bothered by her ass of an ex. “I am, thank you.” She nodded and before she could ask how’d she find him he offered, “Would you need help getting home? Just to make sure he won’t follow you again.” He was quick to clarify, in hopes she won’t find him creepy. “I know you have good intentions, but it’s fine. I don’t think he has the balls, let alone the energy, to bother me. At least for tonight.” With that she waved at the hero goodnight before getting into her car and driving into her apartment — but she didn’t know how up in the sky above, a certain pair of blue eyes followed her journey home.

“Hi! You must be the one who moved next door?” Y/N politely greeted the man as she was leaned by her front door. Clark smiled as he adjusted his glasses — suddenly feeling nervous upon seeing her beautiful face once more, “That is me! Though the one who moved next door is quite a mouthful; you can just call me Clark.” As she laughed at his lame joke she told her name, “And feel free to knock if you need anything, okay?” Taking his nod of agreement as a cue that their conversation ended, she entered her apartment. The son of Jor-El II went inside his own apartment that was directly next to hers  — he did so because days and nights of following her didn’t satiate his hunger for her, so he decided that perhaps this would be a clean way of easing her into a relationship — and busied himself with organizing his belongings in his apartment. Hearing Y/N’s increased heart rate and her voice raised, he opened his door to check out what was going on; and the sight of her ex bothering her once again. “Come on, Y/N! You need to take me back!” Displeased with how the imbecile failed to grasp that Alex should not reach out to his girl anymore. Letting his rage get the best of him, he walked over and pushed Alex off hard enough he landed on his bum, “When a woman says she doesn’t want to see or talk to you, then you better comply with her request.” Gulping down, he recognized the strength as the same one who grabbed onto his shoulder — and now as he was sober Alex decided to respect her wishes and hastily stood up to leave the apartment building. “Are you alright?” Seeing how Clark stood up for her, it made her reminisce about how she was reduced two weeks ago by Superman, “I’m fine, Clark,” She nodded as she grounded herself back to reality and stared into his concerned, blue eyes, “Thank you, by the way.” As he smiled at her she offered him for some snacks in her flat, which he gracefully accepted. “You know, you’re the second person who helped me get rid of Alex,” She mentioned as she handed him a snack; feigning innocence he tilted his head up as he inquired, “Oh? Who’s the other one?” Taking a small bite of the snack, she wiped her mouth free from the crumbs before  replying, “You probably won’t believe it, but it was Superman,” She laughed along with her new neighbor who didn’t find it unbelievable and instead played along as he spoke, “Who’s to say I’m not your personal superhero, beautiful?”

[kim-poce]

Pretty Prey 8 - Side Effect

Sorry, it has been a long time.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

CW: blood bag whumpee, vampire (sus) caretaker, blood-driking mention, mind control power reference and effects, vampire whumper.

=-=

Many things changed after Allen became a vampire’s pet, one of them was the fact that he “wants” to feed Selene now, not truly, but he feels like it after she over and over again used that freak power on him, it’s as if his body wants its blood to be drank.

It has been two weeks since Athan took him in, he seems to be really focused on healing Allen up and returning him to his owner, apart from that he isn’t bad (well, Allen had to compare him to Selene so the bar was really low), he doesn’t give words that Allen is unable to obey, and he also doesn’t drink from him at all, which is good but… it feels wrong, Allen feels like him must feed someone.

It was an odd feeling, and not that strong but it got side effects. For example, him from ALL PEOPLE was getting more aggressive, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t at all, still, he is talking back more and more, he glaring, he isn’t himself.

“...Why?” Allen asked himself one day all of a sudden, looking at his wrists, which were full of bite scars. “What did she do to me?”

“Food isn’t supposed to run away, and if they do run away and attack someone it will be easier to take them back,” Athan answered from the stove, making Allen flinch, he didn’t know he was being so obvious about his wonders.

“Then why doesn’t she just make me not want to run? Can’t she do that instead of playing with my nerves every time?” Allen shouted, swallowing hard and looking down, this isn’t him, it isn’t, he isn’t like this, he isn’t, he isn’t. “I’m I-I’m sorry, I- I didn’t I-”

“Because this wouldn’t be fun,” Athan answered, he had his normal smile, the same one he used while luring Allen out of his hiding spot, and the same he uses when talking about how long it’ll take for Allen to be a proper food again. “A prey who doesn’t want to resist is no fun, but I prey who wants but can’t is Selene’s favorite.”

Sadist fucker. Allen thought, forcing himself to shut up, he doesn’t know how much talking is enough to get the freaking smiling vampire mad, and he certainly doesn’t want to find out.

“Here,” Athan said, walking closer while holding a plate of food. “I took out the carrots, you don’t seem to like them.”

I don’t but… “Why do you care? Shouldn’t you give me healthy things by force so I can be a better food or whatever.” Allen sounded more bitter than he intended, after all, want it or not the vampire was being considerate, but maybe he got too much anger bottled up and is just venting it on the eerily calm vampire since he can’t as much as lift his head in front of the actual source of his anger.

Athan paused at that and Allen froze, he should’ve kept quiet, he shouldn’t say this, he shouldn’t give the vampire ideas, he really really shouldn’t. He looked down, curling on himself and covering his neck with his hands.

Athan moved, he flinched, the vampire crouched down and he whimpered.

“You talk a lot for someone this scared,” Athan said, he had his normal smile, always the same fucking smile. “Would you believe me if I say I just don’t want to make things worse?” The vampire slid the plate in front of him. “I won’t make the situation better, since you are still Selene’s food, so at very least I shouldn’t make it harder on you, right?”

“S-Should I thank you f-for it then?” Allen dared, he was getting too bold, he better his this defiance once he is back with Selene else she will be really really angry, maybe Athan is keeping quiet but telling her everything? Fuck. If he tells Selene will have his skin, she will fuck break him more than ever, she will-

“I’m not doing this for you,” Athan said, taking a spoonful of food, “I’m doing it for myself, now open your mouth.”

Allen took a deep breath, “I c-can do this on- on my own.”

“As you wish,” Athan put the spoon down and got up. Still smiling “Call me when you finish it, I’ll check your body later.”

What is the deal with this guy? I just… I just can’t understand him at all. Allen swallowed hard before starting eating, his mind traveled in wonders again, but less scary wonders this time.

=-=

Taglist: @nicolepascaline, @rose-pinkie, @thecyrulik, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @extemporary-username, @inpainandsuffering

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges 

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another. 

Not that those things were off the table yet. 

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.  

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

 Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

@multplelifes @bluesimani @justhugefangirl @nik-nak-3@redscarlet95 @purplesundaze @incredulous-reader @k-poplunardreams @our-preciousss @blackmagicforever @vgirl-10123 @lozzybowe @wannajointhecrabcult @dast218 @chaotic-mess-of-a-life @fidget-eep @kawaiigiantjudgefish @queenmj10@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @crazylittlemunchkin @fandom-writer642 @nach0ava @ladybug-182 @sam-i-am-0222@spyofthenightcourt @how-to-fuction-properly@emotionalsupportginger @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmy-mind @mystery-5-5 @theatreandcomicfreak @weird-pale-blonde-person @whatthechickenfriedfuck @myazael@pawsitivelymiraculous @urbanpineapplefarmer @karategirl119@consumeconstantly @hauntedstudent99 @ertyzeta @thornalchemist23 @iloveitwhen @animegirlweeb@byronsacademics @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @moonlitjiminie@iglowinggemma28 @constancetruggle @catgirlkittypryde @waffelyunsure @maskedpainter @lilkymilky @unhappyraspberry @avengerthewarrior @quotesandanime @tbehartoo @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @chocolateherringtacofan @jalaluvsu @crazyrandomrebel @fatimaabbasrizvi @thenillabean @goblinwhoships @bluefyoto94 @nerinalith @loopingtangent @demonicbusiness @hecate-hallow @themcclan @tropestropestropes @paintedhope7 @whitetiger1249 @glitchon @vulpixmina @kitkat81804 @kissa-chan @beautiful-disasters-sunshine

[neon-junkie]

The Big Bad Wolf

Summary: After a too-close-for-comfort encounter with a wolf, Flaco finds himself in a new form, and he's willing to put all of his new abilities to good use.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x f!Reader

Word Count: 5254

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Werewolf/Human, Mating, Accidental knotting, Monsters, slight A/B/O, Scents, Praise, Dirty talk, Mating press, Transformation, Smut without a plot.      

Notes: This is ENTIRELY self-indulgent and super horny. I'm not sorry for it at all, not in the slightest.

It was just a scratch. A tiny, little scratch that could have been much worse if Flaco hadn't managed to draw his sawn off shotgun just in time, blowing the wolf's chest open. You fussed him, jabbing back at his protests, insisting that despite it barely bleeding, the wound still needed to be treated; who knows what diseases that wolf was carrying.

Flaco's gloves were ruined, and another scar is soon to join his various collection, dotted across his body. "I'll buy you another pair when I come to see you next," you told him as you patched him up before both of you retired to bed, throwing a few extra logs on the fire to keep the chill out tonight.

Only you wake up sweating, peeling off your clothes, tossing them to the floor in an attempt to cool down. You're no stranger to being naked around Flaco, considering how many times you've found yourself in those kinds of situations with him, but it feels odd, being completely bare and rolling over, your eyes half-lidded, to cuddle up to the thickness of his coat.

But his coat feels thicker than usual; the fur feels longer, cleaner, not matted and slightly rough like the usual, well-worn Bison coat that he wears. You try and not pay much attention to it, wrapping your arm around his waist, attempting to be the big spoon, only to be met with even longer hair as your palm rubs across his chest.

Not only does his coat feel unusual, but he feels big. Well, Flaco's a big man, but this is suspiciously big, as if he's doubled in size. After a few minutes of trying to ignore it, you give up, propping yourself up on an elbow and tapping Flaco awake. The logs from a few hours ago are finally turning into embers, barely lighting the cabin, but still keeping it somewhat warm and lit, not that you need that extra heat right now.

"What?" Flaco grumbles, making no effort to move.

"..." what are you meant to say? that you woke him up because his coat feels weird? "Just roll over," you instruct, and he complies without question.

Flaco's reaching out, attempting to bundle you up in his arms, assuming you just want to cuddle. However, you feel the life suddenly drain from you as you're met with a sight that you can't quite explain. That's not Flaco, or at least, not the Flaco that you know. That's not human, either, but it's still... him...

"Look at me," you order, your voice quiet yet firm, and Flaco laughs at your sternness.

"What? am I cuddling you wrong?" he chuckles. Flaco looks up with a happy smile, warmth in his deep, brown eyes, his ears perking up, and his wet nose wiggling. Your mouth is wide open, stuttering a string of incoherent sounds, and Flaco's smile soon fades away as he realizes that you seem off. "What is it?" he questions, shuffling up the bed and sitting upright, the blankets pooling down over his waist, exposing his thick hairy chest, only this time, he's covered. Literally.

"You're... uh... Flaco, you're a..." you attempt to inform in, but words continue to fail you. Should you laugh? cry? scream? Instead, you scurry out of bed, rushing over to your rucksack and fishing a pocket mirror from it. He laughs when you hand it over, assuming that you're making a fuss over nothing.

"Oh, have I got dirt on my face again? you know, it's not that big of a deal, there's no need to-" Flaco shuts his mouth once his gaze meets his reflection, only for it to fall open again seconds later when he's confirmed that yes, that really is what he looks like right now. "I'm a wolf," Flaco exclaims, and begins grinning at his own reflection, checking out his teeth, or specifically, his fangs.

Of course Flaco is going to be overjoyed about this. Something catches the corner of your eye, quietly thudding in the darkness beside the wall. You pull the blanket from Flaco to be met with his tail, long and fluffy, wagging away joyfully. "Nice," Flaco comments with a laugh, brushing through the fur on his tail with his large paws, as if to confirm that it's really there.

"Nice?!" you yelp. "How is this nice, Flaco? you're not human!"

"Yeah, nice! Now I really am a wolf, huh? it's not a metaphor any more," Flaco laughs, flashing his fangs as he chuckles to himself.

Oh, you know how much Flaco likes to call himself 'the wolf.' He wears his title with pride, like a badge of honour, so much to the point that he often refers to himself in third-person with that nickname. He's a proud man, and even prouder to associate himself with such an animal; and his pride only seems to be doubling in size due to his new form.

Flacos focus is on his reflection again, and you watch as he shuffles out of bed, attempting to stand, only to bonk his head on the roof of his cabin. "Mierda!" Flaco hisses, crouching over and giving the top of his head a rub; he lets out a soft whimper as he settles down by the fire, using its light so he can admire himself in more detail, opening up your pocket mirror once more.

You sit and watch, mouth open, questioning how this has happened. Flaco's reaction really shouldn't be a surprise to you, and you decide to leave him to gussy himself up, whilst you begin trailing into deep through about how this might have happened.

It must have been the wolf from yesterday, the scratch on Flaco's hand. "I think it's a curse," you mutter to yourself as you pull the blanket up over your shoulders, bundling your naked body up, something that for once, Flaco has paid no attention to. The blanket covers most of your frame, your feet sticking out at the bottom, and the rest of you is snugly covered.

"Cursed?" Flaco repeats. "Eh, I don't think it's a curse, but a blessing instead."

"A blessing?!" you yelp, "how?! what if you're stuck like this forever?"

"Well, I guess you'll have to get use to having a big, loving werewolf as a partner then," Flaco laughs. His laughter is deep, coming straight from his chest, as always. However, there's now a soft growl in the mix, his fangs on display as he chuckles away.

"Flaco this isn't the time for jokes!" you pout, standing up and peering down at him with softly furrowed brows. "I'm not joking!" he defends, and attempts to stand yet again. This time, Flaco doesn't hit his head; he's unable to stand up straight, his back arching slightly, his frame standing tall over you in a way that doesn't mean to be dominating, but it is. And for some reason, you don't seem to mind, knowing that this werewolf in front of you is far from a threat... unless this really is a curse, and he begins to change even more.

"You don't like me like this?" Flaco questions, and lets out a soft whine when you don't reply, his ears falling flat. He crouches back down to your level, attempting to meet your height. "C'mon, look how nice and soft my fur is," Flaco states as he moves your hand to stroke over his chest, "and look at how my tail wags whenever I look as you!"

You let out a light laugh, peering behind him to admire the wag of his tail. He knows you're concerned, seeing as you're the logical one in this relationship. "I don't want to start petting you until I know how to get you out of this mess," you explain, moving your hand off his chest to wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Okay, chiquita," Flaco nods. "You have a think about it," he encourages. Flaco finally puts your pocket mirror away, slipping it into your rucksack, and watches as you begin pondering on your thoughts.

The wolf from yesterday. The scratch on his hand. A curse. A blessing. You're no stranger to reading about werewolves in books, fictional books, fantasy ones, books that aren't real, or aren't meant to be real. Only there's a werewolf crouched beside you, watching in awe as you begin pacing around the room in thought. Flaco tries not to stare, not wanting to overcrowd you, and continues checking his new form out instead.

He gawks down at his frame, coated in a layer of thick, dark hair. His paw pads are soft, squishy, complimented by his long claws, sharp enough to cause some serious damage. Flaco's tail relaxes behind him, but begins softly wagging as he peers over to you, watching you pace and ponder.

You pull the blankets up higher, the edges brushing against your neck, your arms beneath them, cocooned inside with only your feet and head poking out. Flaco's head tilts as he admires how protective you are over him, so concerned for his safety, his future, and his current form. However, his admiration is paused, and Flaco's nose begins to twitch, picking up a scent he's never noticed before.

Flaco begins sniffing the air, his head perked up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut so he can put more focus into the scent that's caught his attention. It seems he's developed heightened senses, and he's putting them to good use.

"Can you smell that?" Flaco questions, but you're too trapped in thought to bother replying. "You smell different," Flaco states, his head now peering down at you, watching as you continue to waddle about his cabin. "Now right now, Flaco," you brush him off, shutting your eyes and rubbing your temples, attempting to find some sort of cure for Flaco's new form. "You smell sweet," he states, and shuffles closer to you, his nose twitching as he presses it to your shoulder. Flaco quickly moves it away, your scent now being covered up by the thick blanket, so he crouches further down, only to be lightly pushed away seconds later. "Flaco," you grumble. His deep eyes meet yours before he dips his head down again. He buries his nuzzle beneath the blanket, and you yelp as a cold, wet nose presses against your knee, swatting him away once more. "You smell slick," Flaco states. There's a huskiness to his voice, a deep and low growl that comes straight from his chest. His eyes meet yours, dark and alluring, peering up at you before disappearing beneath the blanket again. "Flaco!" you grumble again, but Flaco doesn't let you push him away this time. You feel something cold and wet on the inside of your thighs, followed by a gust of wind - Flaco has his nose pressed just below your pussy, and he's inhaling your scent. A large paw wraps itself around your thigh, and Flaco boldly moves his nose up, his wetness now pressed softly on your clit. "You smell like you need me to help you calm down," he states after taking in another deep inhale, before removing himself from under the blanket. Flaco stands tall, his back slightly bent over, gazing down at you with slightly furrowed brows - a natural expression for your partner. The hand on your thigh moves itself to your waist, now pressed over the blanket; his hands have always been big, but this is ridiculous. Flaco could pick you up as if you're nothing, his single paw covering most of your body, making you feel so small and inferior. "I know that tone, Flaco, and I'm not letting you... seduce me right now, not when you're like this," you huff, sending him a glare and gesturing to his body. He laughs. It's deep, a mixture between a growl and a human laugh, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. "C'mon, don't you want to try it?" Flaco questions. "You're just turned into some... dog... and the first thing you want to do is fuck?!" you yelp. "Correction, I've turned into a wolf, a werewolf, and mhmm," he nods. "I do, do you?" Your eyes meet the floor, looking away from the beast towering over you, his thumb now softly stroking over the blanket, attempting to soothe you. You can't deny that you're not curious, but is it wrong? to fuck somebody that's... well, that? He's still Flaco, he's still your partner; only now he's doubled in size, is covered in hair, and has perky ears, a snout, and a tail. "I can sense how curious you are, chiquita. My senses have heightened. I know how you look when you're aroused, but now I can really smell it," Flaco flashes you a toothy grin, dipping his head down to your level as he crouches. He licks your cheek, his rough and damp tongue brushing over your skin, coating most of your face in one stroke. "What was that?!" you cry, and attempt to push his snout away. "A kiss," Flaco states, before licking you again. Ugh, should you be surprised? of course Flaco is going to put all of his new abilities to use. All of them. He moves from your cheek, making his way down to your neck, attempting to kiss the usual spots that you enjoy. "C'mon, we can do doggy style," Flaco urges with a soft laugh, chuckling at his own joke. "You're a menace, you know that, right?" you huff, placing your hands on his large cheeks and moving his head so that he's looking directly at you. "I know," Flaco laughs again. "We can give this a try... but if I say stop, then you stop, alright?" "Oh, come on, you know I'll stop if you tell me to," Flaco shakes his head. He understands that you're after reassurance, concerned with exactly how this is going to go. "Flaco promises he'll take care of you," he says with a wag of his tail. "...and don't start howling," you order. Flaco laughs again, giving you another cheek kiss between his chuckle. "Okay, no howling. Flaco promises," he giggles, and begins urging you over to the bed.

Flaco's gentle as he slips the blanket from your shoulders, letting it fall back onto the bed. He attempts to kiss your neck again, running his tongue over your skin, resisting the urge to attempt giving you a hickey. The last thing that he ever wants to do is hurt you, so he's being extra cautious in his new form; his claws are sharp, his teeth even sharper, not to mention his intimidating size and figure. But his eyes remain soft, a deep brown, the same shade as his 'normal' ones. Those dark eyes meet yours as he climbs on top of you, before shutting them as he nuzzles you. Large paws find their way to your waist, trailing down to your thighs, the rest of his body following after as he shuffles down the bed. The bed is far too small for him, so Flaco pulls you until your legs are dangling over the side, and he settles on the floor, still having to dip his head so that he's in line with your body. His breath is hot, tickling your skin as he dips between your thighs. There's a pause of uncertainty, before Flaco presses his wet nose against your clit. He instantly moves it away, exhaling heavily, and mutters "too much," under his breath. His tail is wagging, thumping against the floor, and you can only assume your scent is making him a little too excited. Flaco dips his head down again, this time letting his tongue fall from his mouth, and licks a firm stripe across your cunt. He peers up to watch your reaction, checking for any signs of discomfort, and since you've shown none he does it again, over and over, both of you getting use to this new sensation. His tongue is rough, but soft, squishy, but firm, the perfect balance between wolf and man. The paws wrapped around your thighs tighten their grip, his claws pressed against your skin, but not digging into you. Over time, Flaco becomes more confident, and begins lapping at your clit, his tongue occasionally slipping into your cunt, making his thick hair tickle the inside of your thighs. He's bigger in every way, his tongue reaching depths that it's never reached before, making you whimper as you finally relax on the bed. Flaco's ears perk up, overhearing your positive reaction, reassuring him that he's doing well. His licks become firmer, longer, wetter, more open mouthed; unintentionally Flaco's fangs begin to trail over your skin, light enough that he's not hurting you, or even realizing what he's doing. However, you're definitely aware; it's a strange sensation, having a set of sharp teeth almost nibble at your lower stomach, often trailing up to your bellybutton whenever Flaco opens his mouth wider, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt. "F-Flaco, that's..." you stutter, your head still pressed to the bed. "Huh?" Flaco hums. He slips his tongue from you, resting his chin on your stomach, worried that he's accidentally hurt you. "Your teeth, they're..." "Sharp?" "Uh-huh, but they're... it's uh... they feel nice," you manage to stutter. Flaco bites back a laugh. He licks his chops, your taste heavy on his tongue and around his mouth, and dips his head back down to lap at your cunt again. "Oh, so you do like it when this big, bad wolf has his jaws wrapped around you?" Flaco teases, ensuring that his teeth continue to trail over your skin in between kisses. "Yeah..." you shyly confirm, and let out a soft yelp as Flaco dips his tongue into your cunt again. He removes one of his paws from your thighs, going to slip a finger into you, but stops in his tracks. "Mhm," Flaco grumbles, realizing that his claws are far too sharp to be risking that. "Hey, finger yourself for me," Flaco orders, and grins when you readjust your position, reaching down and beginning to work yourself open. You dive straight in with two fingers, seeing as Flaco's thick tongue already counts as one, possibly more. He watches for a few moments, admiring how flustered you look, before dipping his head between your thighs again. You know what's going to happen, but since Flaco is crouched down on the floor, his body bent over, you're unable to see what he looks like. Is his cock... normal? it must be bigger, surely? seeing as he's doubled in size. You decide to prepare yourself for the worst, or the best, you'll just have to wait and see. You begin to scissor yourself, attempting to loosen your cunt up as much as possible. Flaco takes up the opportunity, and dips his tongue into your pussy, slipping it between your fingers, and runs it along your soft, velvet walls. The noise you let out can only be described as a bitch in heat, a whine, calling out for Flaco to come and fill you up. "You can fit another," he urges, and lets out a soft sigh when you slip a third finger in. "Good girl," Flaco praises, and you assume the thumping you can overhear is his tail wagging against the floor again. Yet again, you attempt to scissor yourself, and within time you're certain you could fit a fourth finger in... but what about fitting Flaco? Hm, you'll find out eventually. You're getting there, slowly but surely; Flaco's spit and slobber is slick enough to help stretch you open, and he graces you with even more as he slides his tongue into your pussy again. Flacos hand disappears from your thigh, dipping down between his own legs, and you know he's touching himself. Nervously, you ask an important question "Flaco, how big are you?" "Big," Flaco blankly states, chuckling as he removes his tongue. "D-Do you think it'll fit?" you question. "I guess we'll just have to find out, eh?" he laughs. "Do you think you're ready? you look it," he comments, and moves his head back down to press his wet nose directly on your clit, his ears perking upright and his tail wagging even faster. "You smell it, too," he grins, flashing his fangs. "Yeah... Okay, I'm ready," you nod.

And with that, Flaco's up on his feet, crawling on top of you on the bed. He wolfhandles you, moving you up to the centre, giving himself enough room to join you. Flaco's grinning, and places a soft lick-kiss to your cheek before sitting back on his knees, finally showing you what's between his legs. Liar. There's no way he's going to fit. "What the-" you stutter, sitting upright and reaching out. Your hand alone is nothing compared to his cock, and even as you wrap both hands around it, there's still some untouched space left over. "Flaco, there's no way this is going to fit," you sigh, comparing his cock against your forearm. Flaco laughs. "It will, Flaco promises," he nods. "You've just gotta relax and let me take the lead, okay?" "Okay, but I-" "-Shh," Flaco hushes. "Stop doubting yourself, we both know you can fit me," he reassures, and presses his paw to your chest, lightly pushing you back down against the bed. The paw on your chest moves to your thigh, holding you steady, and his other hovers by his cock. You watch as Flaco spits on his cock- no, he dribbles on it, letting thick strings of spit coat his length, falling from his jaw, and then pumps himself a few times, ensuring he's generously slick. He moves his hand to the bed, just above your head, and uses the other to hold his length steady as he begins pushing into you. You lie there awkwardly, feeling the tip of his thick cock rub against your entrance, unable to slide in. Flaco begins to grumble, his tail no longer wagging, and his brows furrowing. He dribbles again, being far too generous and soaking your cunt, but it's enough to help ease in the head of his cock. You yelp and begin hissing, unintentionally tightening up around the tip of Flaco's cock. He's thick, unbelievably thick, and you're starting to question your life choices. "Relax," Flaco orders. He dips his head down to your level, placing a wet kiss to your cheek, and grumbles "relax," softly against your ear. Deep breaths. It's not that bad, honestly; once you begin untensing and calming down, you realize he's surprisingly snug, stretching your pussy in a way that makes you shiver, and your reaction came from fear, not his size. "Good girl," Flaco says as he licks your cheek again. "You let me know when you're ready for more." You take your time, relaxing your walls, unclenching them around Flaco's length. Finally, you give him a nod, and he begins sliding into you. There's a slight burn as he stretches you out, his cock getting thicker the deeper it goes, and he comes to a halt just past halfway. There's a knot to your stomach, a tight one, and you can feel the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. "How is this? okay?" Flaco double checks, straightening his back and talking down to you. "Y-yeah, it's okay," you nod. Once again, you're struggling to relax, so you calm yourself by rubbing quick circles on your clit, along with taking deep breaths. "Too big for you, eh?" Flaco chuckles. "Of course you're too big, Flaco." "Give it time, you'll warm up to me eventually," he shrugs, cockily grinning as he talks. Flaco's patient, waiting for you to ask for more, and when you do finally ask, he happily delivers it. He continues sliding in slowly, and your eyes go wide once you feel his fur press against your clit. "You fit?" you question, shuffling up on your elbows to peer down between your legs, instantly noticing the bulge to your stomach. "Mhm," Flaco nods, "I told you I would. Now we've just gotta see if you can keep up," he smirks.

Flaco takes a hold of your legs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist, your ankles barely crossing over behind his back. He bends forward, his body towering over yours; one paw stays wrapped around your thigh, whilst the holds his weight up, placed above your head. Your knees hit your shoulders, practically bent in half, and you're about to ask why Flaco's wolfhandled you into this position, but he begins thrusting.

His patience has worn thin, and Flaco jumps straight in with a quickened pace, forcing you to yelp beneath him. The new position makes sense, as he's able to really drive his cock deep inside you, smacking your cervix with every thrust, turning both pairs of your cheeks red. "You are tight, aren't you?" Flaco smugly comments, flashing his fangs as he licks your cheek again, his attempt of a kiss.

All you manage to do is nod, unable to process words, let alone thoughts. You begin rubbing your clit again, whining beneath Flaco, whimpering as he fucks you, the sound of skin against skin echoing around the cabin. "You sound like you need me to fill you up," Flaco states. He lets out a deep breath before saying "and it smells like you need it too."

"Y-yeah, I do," you stutter, nodding at the same time.

"All in good time, loba."

Flaco picks up his pace, mercilessly slamming his cock into you; his ears perk up at the sounds you're making, moans and mewls, and Flaco can't help but let out a choked whine, intoxicated by every part of you. He soon begins softly panting, slowly over-working himself from the fast pace, but Flaco's stubborn to the point that he won't slow down, not until you're overflowing with his load.

There's still a slight burn to your cunt, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't feel strangely good. Flaco's knot is threatening to slip inside you; it's wider than the rest of his cock, but only slightly, and you're certain that within time, it'll slip in. How big do those things get? There's only so much that you can, and now that you've taken this much, far more than you ever thought you'd be able to handle, you're uncertain on where your new limit lies.

You tighten your legs around Flaco's waist, feeling your orgasm slowly approaching, your clit rubbing so fast that your wrist is starting to ache. You attempt to grip onto Flaco's arm with your spare hand, but Flaco swats your hand away, and pins it down to the bed, his large paw wrapping around your wrist, feeling so dainty in his grasp.

"You're going to cum for me soon, aren't you?" Flaco questions, speaking directly into your ear.

"Uh-huh," you manage to nod.

"Good girl. Go on, I want to feel how tight you get around me," he orders.

Should you feel this good? being mercilessly fucked by your werewolf partner, whimpering and whining in his grap, your orgasm threatening to hit at any moment. You've always felt small beneath Flaco, but this is taking things to a whole new level; he's towering over you, folding your body in half, your knees pressed firmly against your shoulders. Flaco shifts his weight, planting his feet on the bed and bending his legs, bucking his hips down against yours. He whimpers at the slight change of position, and both of you let out a choked moan as Flaco's knot finally slips into you.

The sensation of being full to the brim - overly full - causes you to cum. Your wrist is burning from being over-worked, and you clench tightly around Flaco's cock, panting and sighing as your body begins to tremble. Your orgasm catches Flaco off guard, letting out a choked moan as you squeeze his cock, milking him for all he's worth as he joins your high. Flaco cums, and he doesn't seem to stop cumming, fucking his load into you, hoards of it over-flowing and spilling from your pussy, dripping down over your ass and onto the bed.

His tail is wagging in the air, your knees are pressed right against your shoulders, and Flaco won't stop thrusting, over-stimulating both of you. Eventually, he's forced to stop, his cock buried deep inside you as his knot begins to flair up. "Mierda," Flaco yelps, tugging on it; he instantly stops when you yelp in pain, and mutters another string of swears under his breath.

"I didn't think it would do that," Flaco confesses. He sits back on his knees, not bothered by his mess on the bed, and gawks down at the sight of his swollen cock buried inside you, a visible bulge to your stomach. "Are you okay? does it hurt?"

"Not really," you shake your head; you're still trembling, catching your breath, barely able to keep your eyes open. There's a slight burn to Flaco's knot, but you've been stretched to a point that your body seemed to be expecting it, and thankfully, it's oddly sensual, similar to whenever you've cock warmed him, only on a larger scale. "It's uh, strange, but it doesn't hurt. Just don't tug on it..."

"Good," he sighs.

Flaco asks you to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as he shuffles about on the bed, finding a comfortable position for you both. He kicks off the dirty cover after using some salvageable parts to clean both of you up, and thankfully, Flaco's warm, warm enough to keep you cosy throughout the night, and you feel even warmer as he wraps his arm around your waist, your head resting on his chest.

"What did you think of that, huh?" Flaco eventually questions.

"It was... something," you sigh, unable to find the exact words.

"Oh. Did you not enjoy it?" he whines, perking his head up to peer down at you.

"No, no! I enjoyed it... a lot... too much," you sheepishly reply. "And I think you enjoyed it too," you tease, tensing your walls, giving his knotted cock a squeeze.

"Don't do that," Flaco whimpers, his ears falling back, "you'll get me worked up again."

Is that a bad thing?" you raise a brow, and Flaco chuckles at your eagerness.

"Hey, earlier on you were too nervous to try it, and now you're asking for me to fill you up again?" he laughs, trailing his paws tenderly over your back.

"You did spill most if it," you shrug, and Flaco rolls his eyes at your comment.

"How about I wake you up with a morning surprise? once this swelling has gone down. We didn't do doggy, so I think we need to make up for that?" he offers. Flaco smirks when you nod in agreement; if you had a tail, it would also be wagging.

He places another kiss to your cheek, but this time uses his nose rather than his tongue. Flaco's head rolls back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling slowly, his arms wrapped around you, acting as a blanket. His cock is still swollen, but it's strangely soothing; it's practically the same as falling asleep whilst cock warming, something that you two have done many times before.

And you won't be surprised when Flaco wakes you up how he usually does, with slow and deep thrusts, and soft coos of praise and affection.

[forever-rogue]

Afterglow - Part 8

A/N: Is it time for some much need talking? Hmm....perhaps. As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions; slight language 

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You drifted in and out of sleep that night, waiting up several times due to the jolt of a startling nightmare. At first you almost forgot where you were or what was going on - why were you asleep on the couch? But it hit you like a ton of bricks; Frankie Morales was currently asleep in your bed. 

A few times throughout the night you’d gotten up and stretched your stiff bones and wandered to the bedroom door, opening it just a crack to peek inside. Each time, Frankie was fast asleep with Daisy next to him. It caused you to relax a little, knowing that he was okay, and you needn’t worry about an overdose or anything like that. But it didn’t ease the pain of seeing him again or knowing that he was struggling with an addiction...or something.

The universe had put an odd situation on your plate. 

Once you couldn’t sleep any longer, and had gotten tired of lying on the couch, which it had turned out was not an ideal sleeping situation, you made your way into the kitchen to start breakfast. You weren’t even sure what to do really, but it was a bit of normalcy to offset your otherwise shaken up routine. 

As soon as you started the coffee, something that was an absolute necessity, you’d left messages for your clients apologizing for the early call and canceling their appointments due to a last minute emergency. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind. As the coffee percolated filling the kitchen with warmth and the delicious smell, you reached into the fridge and started pulling eggs, bacon, and other items to make breakfast with. Grabbing a bowl and a pan, you quickly settled on pancakes, wondering if they were still his favorite. He’d always loved them when you were younger and on more than one occasion had your little date nights ended in a small 24-hour diner, where’d he chow down on them. 

The memory made you smile,  as you recalled one particular time when he eagerly topped off his pancakes with fresh fruit and whipped cream, which had gotten on the corners of his mouth. You’d reached over and wiped the whipped cream away, licking it clean from your own finger. It seemed like yesterday, even though it was so long ago. 

Sighing, you pushed the memory away and carried on preparing the batter and throwing some bacon into the oven. As soon as your coffee pot signaled that it was done, you grabbed your favorite mug, followed by another and poured the black coffee in. You finished yours off as you liked, topping the other off with a sprinkle of cinnamon. It amazed for a mere fraction of a second just how well you still remembered the things he liked. But your amazement was quickly cut short when you heard a quiet throat clear from the opposite side of the counter. 

“H-hi,” he said quietly, almost tentatively as he seemed to look anywhere but your eyes. You took the cup you had prepared for him and set it down in front of him, motioned for him to take a seat at the bar. 

“You look like hell,” you commented as he sat and clutched the steaming cup between his hands. He made a small sound of agreement as you turned back to your pan and poured some batter in, “I made it how you used to like it....I presume it’s still the same?”

“Yeah,” he said as he put the mug to his mouth and took a long sip, “thank you.”

“Mhmm,” it was a small, noncommittal sound as you focused your attention on the pancakes and eggs. Daisy came over and you offered her a treat before getting her into the backyard and preparing her breakfast. The tension in the air was palpable and you could see that Frankie was eager to say something. But he didn’t dare to be the one that broke the silence. Gods knew you were just as eager to say something, a lot of things honestly, but all of that could wait for now.

Once everything was finished, you grabbed two plates and piled them high with a spread of items, topping them off with some fresh berries on the side. Daisy had been a good girl, clambering between the two of you, so you offered her a piece of bacon and a few berries, which she eagerly took and ran off with and  into her bed to eat. 

Handing a plate to Frankie, you set down your own, as far away from him as possible at the small bar. It didn't create a huge divide between you, but the point came across loud and clear.

The two of you ate in silence for some time, the only sound in the kitchen was the scraping of utensils and a few small huffs from Daisy. She gave you an almost pathetic look a few times, and you just rolled your eyes at her. You knew she wanted to be out and in the company of others; once she'd overcome her initial fear of people, she thrived in attention.

"Oh hush," you told her before passing her another strip of bacon, "we'll go for a walk later, good girl. Or maybe you can go play  with Eddie."

Frankie remained silent as he watched you, doing his best to keep a smile from stretching across his features. But you were too quick and caught him staring.

"I've been bringing her into the office with me every day," you explained, "she likes being around the people and they often find just as much comfort in her. It's a win-win really."

"Hmm," he commented as he shoved another bite in his mouth, "office? W-what kind of office?”

"Yeah," you said softly, "I, ugh...I'm a therapist.” 

He caught your eye and offered you a slightly confused look. Never once had you ever mentioned wanting to be a therapist. In fact, you had wanted to avoid anything you had once deemed similar to your parents as a big no. Coming from a surgeon and a doctor wasn’t a far stretch from a therapist. When the barista at the coffee shop had referred to you as ‘doctor’, he had envisioned...many other things. This was very similar to things you had proclaimed you'd never wanted to be, "oh. I thought you wanted to be a zoologist. That’s what you always wanted to...study animals. UCLA-"

"Yeah," you cut him off sharply, "I did once. In another lifetime. I had to make decisions back then.. Ones I didn't think I'd make or have to make. I thought things were going to play out in a very different way but the joke was on me, right? So, here we are. I'm good at my job and it just...worked out."

"But do you like it?" he asked tentatively as you narrowed your eyes at him. No one ever really asked you that...it was just sort of assumed that you did, or if you didn't, that didn't matter one way or another..

"What does it matter, Francisco? A job is a job," you almost snapped at him, "but yes. For the most part I enjoy my job. I'm glad to be helping people that need it.”

"It just didn't seem like something you wanted to do..." he trailed off softly.

"Well, I also didn't think I'd go to college alone and have to make an entirely different series of choices. I didn’t think you’d just leave me and go into the military - and you were going to leave me in the dark about as long as you could. Remember that?" you knew it was a dig, the lowest of blows, but in that moment you didn't care. Things had ended a long time ago and at the end of the day, it didn't matter anymore, "because I do. So yeah, my life plans changed. But you know about that just as well. How did that work out for you?!"

You hated yourself in that moment, and as soon as the words left your mouth you wished you could take them back. You hated how much venom was lacing your words, how angry you still were with him. It was twenty years worth of pain and hurt bubbling to the surface all at once. And yet - the look on Frankie’s face was enough to make your heart break. Sighing lightly, you tossed the fork onto your plate and slid out of the bar stool. Tears were prickling at the back of your eyes as you held up your hands in surrender, lips trembling slightly. You tried to slick past him, but he reached for your arm to try and hold you back, "honey-"

"I gotta go," you said, pulling out of his grasp as motioned for Daisy to follow you. Nervously looking between the two of you, she trotted over and perked up slightly when you grabbed her leash, "I-I'll be back. I’m sorry.”

You dashed out the door as swiftly as possible, letting it shut softly behind you as Frankie stared at it, a heavily, weary sigh escaped his own lips. Setting down his own fork, he pushed his plate away, no longer feeling hungry. He wasn’t mad at your words, or the spite you still held for him. If anything it made him hurt just as much. He’d always been confused on why and when you finally decided to cut your ties with him, but he never blamed you. If the roles were reversed he might have done the same. But he’d never hated you for it. He could understand why you did what you did. He was just Frankie after all, he wasn’t worth waiting around for you. Just because he’d never let you go, didn’t mean he expected the same of you.

Standing up, he picked up his own plate, followed by yours and brought them to the sink. Turning on the tap, he set everything under the warm water to soak before quickly deciding to just clean up the kitchen then and there. It was the least he could do. Frankie carefully put everything away, making sure everything was going into what he was sure were the proper spots before loading the dishes into the empty dishwasher. He stopped himself when he reached for your empty coffee mug, holding it delicately in his large hands as he examined. It was a soft yellow, covered in little flowers and beehives and bees. A forlorn little smile crossed his features as he decided to hand wash the mug, drying it with the utmost care before putting it away in the cabinet.

The whole process to getting everything clean again took him some time, but by the time he was satisfied with his handiwork you still weren’t back from your walk with Daisy. It gave him pause to wonder if he should just head home or if he should wait for your return. Eventually he decided to opt for the latter, figuring it would be rude to just run out on you. If nothing else, he’d thank you for the help from the previous evening and then leave, but a smaller part of him hoped that you’d ask him to stay. To talk. There was a lot to talk about after so many years. 

And yet - there was nothing. The relationship was done. Ended. Nothing. 

He went back down the hall to straighten your bedroom up and gather his shoes, but he trekked slowly, taking a moment to study all the pictures on your walls. Some of it was more or less generic artwork, some were photos of you with friends and family over the years. He had admired each of them, how you had changed from the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with to the still beautiful woman he was infatuated with. It was amazing to him that you still looked the same after all this time - the same soft eyes, the same sweet smile, the aura of kindness that seemed to follow you everywhere. He was nothing like he once was, not in his mind anyway, instead of ragged and worn out. A sight for sore eyes.

Shaking his head to himself, he finished the walk back to your room and began to tidy up, making it a point to keep away from anything that looked personal. But in his keen attempt to make your bed, he accidentally knocked over what liked a journal from your nightstand. Groaning at his carelessness, he picked it up and attempted to set it back, but instead,  a couple of photographs fell out of it. He swooped them up and curiosity got the better of him as he studied the pictures intently.

They were of you - you and him. 

One of them was from one of the winters you shared together, the two of you were bundled up in thick jackets and scarves, Frankie’s old beanie on your head, with the skating rink visible in the background. You both looked so young, so carefree, so happy. You were smiling for the camera but his eyes were slowly focused on you, the grin on his face speaking volumes. 

The other one was from Halloween, and the two of you were dressed up as Morticia and Gomez from the Adams Family. Your feeble attempts at costumes had been laughable, but the joy in your faces was undeniable. This time he was smiling for the camera, an arm wrapped tightly around, but you were looking at him as though he was your whole world. 

You had kept the photos after all these years. He let out a long breath before tucking them back into the journal and setting it back on your nightstand. As he finished making up the bed and slipping his shoes back on, he heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Daisy’s footsteps. She eagerly nudged open the door and wagged her tail at him, trying to get his attention for pets. 

"Frankie?" your soft voice reached his ears as he gave Daisy a nervous look before slipping out of your bedroom. He stood in the hallway, nervously twist his hat in his hands as you stood at the other, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Hey," he softly as you just nodded. The two of you stood there for a moment, silently staring at each other. When you didn't say anything he started walking down the small way, "I should go..."

But before he could slip past you, you reached out and grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly firm, but gentle, manner. He turned and gave you a confused expression, "stay. W-w should talk...instead of just running every time we see each other."

"Okay," he agreed as you gave him a momentary smile before leading him outside, to the small little backyard sanctuary you had created. It was crisp and cool, the promise of fall and new hope with the changing season lingering in the air. Daisy was close at hand, bringing out a toy to play with as sat down at the patio table, Frankie taking a seat at the other end of the table. It was silent for some time before you finally mustered up the courage to talk to say anything.

"I'm sorry for earlier," your voice was quiet but Frankie heard you loud and clear, "I shouldn't have exploded like that at you. It wasn't fair."

"'S okay," he insisted. In his mind he deserved a lot more than just a few angry words. A new silence loomed over you as you watched your dog run around play, easily keeping herself amused.

"I was supposed to get married," you blurted out suddenly and Frankie's attention was hyperfocused on you, his deep brown eyes trying to decipher every expression, "in a few weeks actually."

"Oh," he said casually as he if hadn't noticed that you weren't sporting the huge engagement ring you had been wearing when he first ran into you again, "I-I figured...the ring and all."

"Yeah," you said with a scoff, looking over at him and rolling your eyes dramatically, "was going to. Completely dodged a bullet with that one."

"W-what happened?" he wouldn't deny that the fact that your engagement ended instilled a small sense of hope in him, "if you don't mind me asking..."

"A lot of things, honestly,” you shrugged lightly. It wasn’t a complete lie...there were a lot of factors that ultimately led to your decision. The fact that Frankie had appeared out of the blue, out of nowhere, was just another incidental happenstance that seemed to jog you into making the decision. But you weren’t about to admit that to him...not yet anyway, “I basically realized I was unhappy...that he was everything I never wanted and the life I was leading was the one I had wanted to avoid for so long.”

“Oh,” he completed quietly as you threw up your hands in exasperation, more at yourself than anything else. It was just…a hard situation. It wasn’t easy for anyone and with Frankie right there next to you it was hard not to picture a life with him. What would it all have been like if he had been the one?

“I was becoming...became everything I hated,” you laughed dryly at yourself, casting a quick glance over at him as he was watching you intently, “all those things I said I never would be. I ended up being them. I ended up as this quiet, pathetic excuse of a woman that just did what everyone told her to do, what everyone expected of her. I became the model daughter my parents always wanted - working in what they deemed a proper job, never speaking out of turn, marrying the successful lawyer, never straying from the line. And then...I just realized...this isn’t me. This was never me. It’s not who I’m meant to be. I knew that if I went through with that wedding and everything that came afterwards I would never be happy again. Despite the years of self loathing, I couldn’t do that to myself.”

Frankie was listening intently as you seemed to work this out within yourself as the words poured out of your mouth. He knew exactly what you meant, and at the end of the day, he was proud of you for being able to make the decisions you needed to for yourself, “so you just called it all off?”

“Yeah,” you dabbed at the tears that pearled up and slipped down your cheeks, before laughing lightly. In the moment, it had been a bold, dramatic move, one that you considered almost worthy of a cinematic masterpiece, but looking back on it, you had probably seemed like a mad woman, “basically. It was the day of my last dress fitting and it just...hit me. I was with the dress maker and her niece and they were asking me all about my fiance and asking me if I was excited and how in love we were and everything. And it hit me then and there - I couldn’t do this. So...I bailed and left. Called it off an hour later. You should have seen the poor things! Oh Frankie, they looked so surprised, but they understood. I paid for the dress and I told them to donate it to someone that deserved it.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed out as he pictured the scene. You caught his eye and the two of you started laughing together. Gods, in that moment, it was easy, so easy to just laugh and not think about anything else. It still felt so effortless with him, even despite everything that happened between the two of you, “you just did that!”

“You know what they say about mad women, Frankie,” you teased, taking a moment to collect yourself. Looking back on it now it was funny, but in reality...it had been a harsh end to your previous life and a bumpy start to your new one, “but...at the end of the day it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t marry Chad and just be Mrs. Wadsworth forever.”

“Chad? Wadsworth?” Frankie couldn’t help but snicker at the names as you nodded before hanging your head, giving him just a glimpse of that smile that always made him weak in the knees, “oh honey, you should have known from the name alone.”

“I was a fool,” you admitted with a dramatic sigh, “a self righteous fool. At the time it had seemed...right.”

“Did you love him?”

“I-I suppose I did,” you said softly, “at one point or another. I don’t know where along the line it just ended up as routine and just me going through the motions but obviously it did…”

“I’m sorry you had to do through all of that,” he said quietly as you shrugged. It wasn’t his fault...that was all of your own doing, “how did your family take it?”

“About as well as you'd think,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep more tears from flowing worth, “you know them, Frankie, they’re the same as they’ve always been. At first it seemed like my mom understood, and she seemed to care, but by the next day it was like a flip had been switched. They had seemed to side with Chad and somehow none of feelings were relevant. And all of the friends we’d had basically decided that I was the bad guy. So it kind of...left me to figure things out on my own. Luckily, I do have a few really good friends left. They helped me out a lot...even to find this house actually. Things could have been a lot worse...they were rough but they’re getting better.”

“Still,” he almost whispered at you, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. You don’t deserve it.”

“Such is life,” you looked at him and offered an almost teary smile, “but about you? Did you ever get married or anything?”

“No,” he answered quickly as you tried to ignore the small skip of your heart. He tapped his fingers against the glass top of the table for a few moments, “there was never really...anyone else.”

“Really!?”

“Nope,” he was almost nervous as he swallowed the lump in his throat, “I was in the military for a long while...overseas, special ops...never really had much chance to worry about that kind of stuff back then.”

“What about when you got out?”

“There were a few here and there,” he admitted quietly, “nothing serious, nothing that lasted more than a few months.”

“Oh,” it was your turn to be surprised. For some reason he had struck you as the type that would have settled down...the type of man that would almost yearn for domestic bliss. Little did you know he did exactly that, just not with anyone that he encountered so far. 

“Yeah,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “it hasn’t been much of an exciting life.”

“Surely it must have been,” you insisted, “special ops? That sounds like it be one adventure after another...but it was the military…”

“I was glad to get out when I got out,” he insisted and you could tell there was a lot more he wanted to say. But he tensed up lightly and you weren’t going to push him to tell you anything. If he wanted to, he would, but as far as you were concerned he owed you nothing. And yet...a small part of you hoped he did still want to open up and confide in you.

“What...what do you do now?”

“I’m a mechanic,” he stated simply and pointedly looked away from your eyes. He didn’t know if he wanted to see the expression in them, to know if you suddenly thought him to be much lower, “it’s nothing much but I-”

“It’s brilliant, Frankie,” you insisted, quickly cutting him off and causing his head to whip in your direction, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “you had always had a knack for stuff like that - it never made any sense to me, but you? You always had a sharp mind.”

“I was a pilot too!” he eagerly told you, and you could have died at the excited expression on his face, “in the military and…”

“And what, Frankie?” you asked, noticing the rapid change in his mood, almost as if he hadn’t meant to tell you quite that much. He stilled for a moment before looking away, “Frankie?”

“And for a while after that for private individuals,” he almost murmured, “but umm...n-not at the moment.”

“Okay,” you replied, telling him in that one word that he never needed to go past what was comfortable for him, “Frankie, I’m glad that things worked out for you...really.”

He just nodded, and gave you a weary look before silence fell over the two of you again. You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them, watching as Daisy sniffed everything before bringing her ball over to Frankie. He gently took it from her and tossed it across the yard, repeating the action several times over before she grew bored of it and went to follow around a squirrel. 

After some time, you cleared your throat, deciding that now was as good of a time as any to lay everything out on table. What was the worst that just happen? He would get mad, you would get mad and then he left? It wouldn't put you in a worse position than before. There was literally nothing left to loose, and you'd hate yourself if you didn't at least tell him. If nothing else, you would get it all off of your chest.

"T-there was another reason I called off my wedding..." you admitted and slowly shifted his gaze back to you, "umm, everything kind of...I realized how unhappy I was and that things weren't right after...after running into you. That day at the coffee shop when I spilled coffee all over myself."

Frankie tried his best to keep his expression neutral but it felt like a swarm of butterflies had just been released into his stomach. He was trying not to read too much into your words but he was loathe to deny his excitement. That meant you had felt it too; he wasn't wrong in thinking it was just him. He looked at you to go on, making a small sound in his throat, "I-I remember..."

"It set off...something," you said softly, "and that's what caused me to realize everything else."

"If nothing else, I'm glad the spilled coffee led you to realizing that you deserve better...that you deserve the world..."

"I...I never stopped loving you," the words shot out of your mouth before you could do anything to stop them and Frankie's jaw dropped and practically hit the floor, "seeing you made me realize that...there was never anyone else that I could ever love because they weren't you. Even after everything that happened, all this time, it always came back to you."

"Honey bee," the nickname flowed easily and you didn’t bother to correct him. You liked the way it sounded, you had missed it even. It was so much better than sugar plum, which still made you cringe to even think about, “you…”

“I know,” you said quietly, bringing your hands up to your face as you tried to hide and  make yourself feel smaller. You hadn’t, not in a million years thought you would see him again, let alone admit this to him or yourself, “I just...the more I thought about it, especially with Chad, I kept comparing everything to you. Even if I didn’t admit it out loud to myself, that’s one of the main things that it was. It was always you.”

“I-I don’t understand…” he said quietly, “you never...I called you and you never called me back. I thought...I thought...why?”

“I know,” you admitted, “I just...I couldn’t, Frankie. You left me and I hung around waiting for you all the time. My life revolved around waiting for to call, or email, any little hint from you. It wasn’t healthy - I was missing out on so much, because I was always waiting around for you. I couldn’t do that anymore, to wait to hear from you from an hour once every two months whenever you got the chance? It wasn’t fair to me or you. So I just...decided not to anymore.”

“But I-I came back,” he said meekly as you shrugged lightly.

“When? How many hours was your life devoted to the military? How many years were you gone for the majority of the year? It wouldn’t have been fair to me to have to wait for you, and it wouldn’t have been fair to you either, to only get to see me once in a while. Wasn't it easier to just not have to worry about it?” you tried to rationalize it to yourself and him at the same time. But as the words left your mouth you wondered if it had been easier that way. Maybe it would have been easier, maybe you would have been happier if you’d tried to make it work...but now you would never know. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed heavily as he leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his tired eyes, “I don’t know...but I do know it was hard for you.”

“You left me Frankie,” you said softly, trying not to cry again as you thought back to the day you had discovered that he was leaving for the military. It had been the worst day of your life back then. It still was to this day, “we made all these plans, our future, and you left me.”

“I did what I had to do back then,” he said softly, and while you never believed, even back then, you knew he had his reasons. You knew that the choices he made for all calculated and thought out - he was never one for rash decisions, “the choices I made helped become the man I am now. And look where you needed up - a therapist. A successful therapist. That counts for something, right?”

“I know....I know you did. I understand that now. A small part of me still thinks I would have rather have been with you, Frankie,” you said softly, turning to face him and resting your head on your knees, “even looking back on everything now. I wish you would have let me come with you -”

“So what?” he almost snapped and you jumped slightly at the sudden change in his voice, “you could have been some military wife that’s never happy?”

“I would have been happy with you!” you retorted with just as much edge as he had given you, “I would have been happy if I got to be anywhere with you. You were my everything, Frankie, and that never changed.”

“You would have been alone half the time,” he sighed heavily, “and I never...I never wanted you to have to worry if I was dead or alive or if I was coming back at all.”

You remained silent as you mused over his words. He had a point...if you had been with him, when he was overseas, you would have been wondering every minute of every hour if he was alright or not. That was a fate almost as cruel if not more so than what you were put through. 

“I wanted you to have a chance at happiness,” his tone softened as he looked at you with big brown eyes. They were full of emotion, holding so many things inside of them, “without me you had a shot.”

“I thought I did too,” you agreed, your lips trembling effort to keep from crying. Gods, you felt like you had been crying more recently than you had in many years, “turns out we were both wrong.”

“Yeah?”

“In some ways I wished I’d just gone with you anyway,” you shrugged and he made a small sound. You were both stubborn fools in your own ways, “in some other ways I wish I never met you.”

It felt like his whole world stood still as he cautiously met your eyes. Now those were words he never thought he’d hear you saying. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before stumbling over his words, “w-what? I thought…”

“If I had never met you, I never would have missed you,” you explained, “I never would have gone through the heartbreak of you leaving, of loving you and looking for you in everything and everyone else, never finding you. I would have been…”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“Yeah...but I’m not,” you concluded, “because if I had never met you, I would have never been loved by you, or gotten to love you. I never would have...discovered how to be myself. You showed me that it was okay to be different from my family, to be my own person. It worked...even if I got lost along the way and things changed. At the end of the day, it was you. And just when I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life, you came back. Out of all the times. That-that has to mean something right?”

Just like that every piece of his heart that had felt like it had hardened and decayed over the years seemed to come back to life. His heart started racing in his chest as he stared at you, long and hard, and you stared back with just as much ferocity and intensity. You were thinking the same thing he was - the timing, you both coming back together, it couldn’t be for naught. It just couldn’t. The universe was a strange and wondrous thing, but maybe...maybe this time it was getting it right…

“M..maybe…” Frankie stood up as you tried to collect your thoughts and slowly strode over to you. Extending his hand slowly, he held it out to you and you stared at it for just a moment, contemplating taking it. Taking his hand was a lot more than just the simple action of taking his hand, you were both well aware of that fact. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let him help you to your feet, and you stood directly in front of him, “Francisco.”

His large hands found your face, his touch gentle and saccharine as you relished in the feel of his soft, yet calloused skin on yours. Your lips parted slightly as he traced over the highs and lows of your features, making it a point to commit this version of you deep into his mind, just like he had twenty years ago when you were younger. His thumb swiped along your lower lip and your body was practicing screaming for him to touch you, to kiss you, anything.

“You are still as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you,” he whispered, inching incrementally closer and yet not close enough, “honey bee, I loved you then and I never stopped. I will never stop.”

“Francisco,” it was a soft plea as your hands found his wrists, gripping onto them tightly and vowing to never let go, “please.”

Please kiss me. Please don’t ever leave me again. Please just love me. 

It was so many things all in one simple word.

“May I kiss you?” he leaned in and his lips were practically ghosting over yours, his breath warm and sweet. You nodded quietly before closing the almost nonexistent gap between your bodies, weaving your arms around his neck as his hands found purchase on your hips.

It was slow, sweeter almost than honey as he kissed you, and you allowed yourself to get lost in him. If you thought kissing him back then had been amazing, this was that and then some. Every part of him melded perfectly against you, an ease to your movement like neither of you had to think or even try. It was like it had always been meant to be. In some ways, you supposed it was. It was always supposed to be you and your Frankie. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you murmured against his lips when you parted for a breath of air, “it was always you.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat]

What I See

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x GN Medic Reader 

Premise: My musings here resulted in this. You're a medic in the 501st who works closely with Kix. At first you think the crush you have on him is one-sided, until one day you look through his sketchbook and are surprised by a portrait he drew.  

Word Count: ~2.2k

Rating: G

Other notes: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like clones 

AO3

--

Being an army medic had its ups and downs, its slower periods and bursts of intense stressful activity. You wouldn’t trade it for anything though. The pay was better than what you earned as a civilian medical worker, your patients were much more agreeable (even though there was the occasional trooper who insisted he was fighting fit when he was still far from being so) and your coworkers were professional and easy to get along with. One coworker in particular was your favorite, and you looked forward to the shifts you shared with him.

When you first met Kix, you admired him for the love and care he showed his fellow clones and commanding officers. The two of you quickly developed a rapport; he always laughed at the bad jokes you made, and you liked to challenge him to competitions to see who could restock supply shelves in the med bay the fastest … he always won, but every time you’d stick your tongue out at him and say “I’ll get you next time!” and he would only respond with a knowing smirk.

During down time, when there were no patients and paperwork was handled, Kix would sit at his desk with a leather-bound book and a pencil. It was an odd at first, seeing the rich brown leather and sheets of paper in an austerely sterile all-white setting filled with holopads and technology, but it also looked right in his hands. Without meaning to, you’d sometimes watch as he focused intensely on whatever he was scribbling into the book, brow furrowed in concentration as he worked.

“Jesse teases me and tells me I should just take pictures,” he explained one day as he showed you some drawings in his book, “but I find this relaxing.” He flipped to a sketch of a grassy plain with mountains in the background. You marveled at the details: the colors and shading on the mountains looked like sunlight glistening off their stony faces, the grass looked so realistically textured you thought it would feel like the real thing if you touched it, and he even added some wildflowers as well.

After seeing the meticulous designs he shaved into his hair, it was no surprise that Kix was an artist.

“Looks like it could be a picture,” you commented.

“Fives said something similar once, when we were down on Felucia he caught me drawing this-“ he flipped through the book to show you a drawing of a wide-trunked tree with large drooping leaves. “I just draw what I see,” he added with a shrug.

“You’re really talented though, the best I can draw is a stick figure.”

Kix cracked a small smile. “That was once the best I could do too,” he said.

The way his lips curved in his smile, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you - in that moment you realized just how beautiful he was. Sure, he was good-looking – all the clones were – but he stood out to you.

There was no use denying it, you had a crush on him.

Before there was a chance for your thoughts to betray you in any way, Kix’s comm beeped. “Duty calls,” he said, closing his sketchbook and stashing it in a drawer under his desk. He then stood up and made his way to his station, and you followed suit. Whatever was about to come into the med bay, it would keep you busy enough to distract yourself … so you hoped.

It had to be strictly professional between yourself and Kix, you reminded yourself as the first wave of injured troopers came into the medbay. Besides, given how quickly he could turn on a heel from artist to medic like that demonstrated how dedicated he was to his work, you knew he would never let anything get in the way of his duty.

--

Four rotations went by. Kix went on a mission with the rest of Torrent Company, leaving you to manage the med bay on your own during your shift. It was more of the same, really … but you thought about him more than you would care to admit. Of course, you always thought about him when he went on missions, you told yourself. Everyone worried about their coworkers, right? Especially if there was a chance they might not come back?

He always came back, you told yourself. This time wouldn’t be any different.

Only it was both more of the same and different. You were working on paperwork when the med bay doors suddenly flew open, and troopers began pouring in. As soon as you commed some off-duty medics to report to the med bay, you manned the triage station so you could tend to the more critically injured troopers first. It was hectic, a flurry of stressful activity, making sure everyone who needed a bed had one and every wound and scrape was patched up. It wasn’t until everything quieted down that you found Kix in one of the beds.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw him. He was asleep, undressed from the waist up with bandages and bacta patches affixed to spots on his shoulder and the side of his head, and his lower half covered with a blanket. Nodes attached to pulse points on his inner arm connected to a machine by his bed that recorded his vital signs, and everything looked normal at first glance. His chart reported a direct blaster hit to his shoulder and a graze on his head, with an expectation of a full recovery, signed off by one of the medics you called in to help. You owed that medic big time, you thought.

A glance at the nearest chronometer revealed that your shift ended three hours ago, but you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to leave. So you grabbed a chair and pulled it over to Kix’s bed so you could sit by him. Someone had to keep an eye on him after all. It was professional courtesy, you told yourself, that was all. Besides, even though your body ached and felt heavy with exhaustion, your mind was too active and on edge for sleep.

On the floor by his bed were his things: his armor, neatly stacked and organized, next to his medical pack. Inside his pack you found his sketchbook, and you figured you could pass the time by looking at his drawings again. You found the sketch of the plain and the mountain again and took a few more minutes to admire the detail. Then the tree on Felucia, and then a tooka cat, and when you turned the page you nearly dropped the book in surprise.

Kix had drawn you. In the picture you looked off in the distance, chin propped up on your hand. The detail was incredible: the shape of your nose, your mouth, your eyebrows, all rendered with magnificent accuracy. You wondered if he drew it from memory, or used a picture as a reference, or sketched you one day on duty when you weren’t paying attention.

It had to be a picture, you decided. What you saw before you … it was an idealized version of yourself. Better-looking than anything you ever saw in the mirror.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a weak drowsy voice calling your name. You looked up and saw that Kix had woken up, his head turned towards you and his half-lidded eyes meeting yours.

“Oh- you’re awake!” you stammered, your cheeks flushing with heat as you slammed the sketchbook shut. You sprang to your feet and came to his bedside – to tend to him as a medical professional, you reminded yourself.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“My job,” you answered plainly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” he answered glibly. “But I meant, what are you doing with that?” he nodded his head best he could and glanced to the sketchbook that was still in your hand.

“Oh-“ You froze for a second. “I- sorry, I just really like your ….” Your sentence trailed off as you saw apprehension flash across his face.

“It’s fine,” Kix murmured as he averted his gaze away from you.

“I … I saw you drew me.”

“Yeah … drew that when I was away … was missing you.”

Oh. Maybe he was crushing on you too … the idea was equal parts exciting and scary.

“Missed you too,” you returned, reaching down to give his wrist a gentle squeeze. “And it’s a really good drawing of me too. Did you use a picture for reference or something?”

“Memory,” Kix said plainly.

“Wow …” You opened up the sketchbook again to your drawing and gave it another lookover. “And you made me look better than I actually do.”

“No. I told you before, I draw what I see.”

Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and you looked up to meet Kix’s gaze again. Tired as he was, he looked at you with a soft admiration, as if he was appreciating a fine work of art standing directly in front of him. Your mind was both full and blank at the same time, feeling flattered and treasured but at the same time unsure of how to respond to him.

“I … I’ve been putting off telling you how I feel about you,” he continued, “because –“

“Your duty comes first, I understand,” you cut him off as you sat down on the edge of the bed, turning your torso to better face him and setting the sketchbook down by his head.  

“No, not that. Well, it has to, but – but that doesn’t mean I can’t want more out of life.” Kix paused. He raised his hand and reached it towards you. You responded by raising up your own hand, taking his in yours, and holding it in your lap. Your other hand came to rest on his wrist. He was so warm under your touch, soft and solid and steady. You knew that you would eventually have to let go, but you didn’t want to.

“My favorite part of the day is when I get to see you, whether it’s here or in passing somewhere on the ship,” he continued, “and on the battlefield after I got shot, as I was lying there, all I could think about was how I might never see you again.”

“Kix, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted you. “Except, if- if after the war’s over you wanted to give it a shot? You and me?”

“Yes.” The words immediately fell from your lips as your mouth widened into a smile. You didn’t even have to think about it, and the potential consequences that the higher-ups in the GAR might inflict upon the both of you for even entertaining the idea didn’t matter. It just felt right, the idea of you and him. You couldn’t begin to explain it.

Kix returned your smile. You raised his hand to your mouth and softly kissed the back of it before lowering it back down to your lap. Before you could disentangle your hands from his, he returned that gesture as well, pulling your hand that was intertwined with his to his mouth and pressing little kisses into your knuckles. The feeling of his lips on your hand sent pleasant little tingles through your skin.

“Let’s talk about it some more after you’ve recovered,” you suggested.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed absentmindedly. He shifted slightly in bed but suddenly stopped and froze in place, his face twisting into a pained grimace and a hiss escaping through his teeth.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling your hand back to you and scanning his body for any other signs of distress.

“Yeah, just hurts is all.”

“Let me get you some painkillers.”

“No need, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Kix, I insist.” You told him in the sternest voice you could muster.

“I have the right to refuse treatment, especially if the treatment is better spent on my brothers who are in worse shape than I am.”

He was right, he did have the right to refuse treatment. But you couldn’t bear the idea of him being in pain.

“Okay … how about a sleeping aid then? Or some water? Can I get you anything?”

“If you want to do something for me, go get some rest. I’ll still be here when you report for your next shift.”

“Ugh, fine. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Ah come on, you know you love me.” Kix said teasingly, punctuating his statement with a smirk and a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Giving him a small laugh and a half-hearted eye roll, you pushed yourself up onto your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Before you turned to leave, you took his hand in yours again, and took a moment to gaze in his eyes. It took everything in you to not immediately start imagining a life with him after the war. There wasn’t even any guarantee there was going to be a life after the war – the cruiser you were on might be destroyed tomorrow by the Separatists for all you knew – but the idea still filled you with hope and joy. Something to look forward to with him. Something else to fight for.

[sjjdkdkwo]

I’ve seen a couple scenarios where Friday hates Stephen after Tony dies, because she blames him for his death. And those are some good angst as is because oof. But I kinda want one where Stephen ends up at the lab for whatever reason-maybe Tony left him a message, maybe he snuck in to mourn over Tony alone, but Friday is there. She’s all alone in the dark, has been for a good while since Tony died. After he was gone, she thought she didn’t really serve much of a purpose anymore and stopped communicating with anyone. It’s fine though, she doesn’t feel up to it truth be told. But then Stephen shows up out of nowhere, somehow managing to sneak through all her security systems (and that in itself is an enigma). But she doesn’t make a move to kick him out, something about him makes her pause. She only knew him for a short time after all. It’s easy enough to take time to study him, to the outsider it looks like she’s completely shut down along with the rest of the lab. She watches as he walks around, taking everything in, shoulder hunched as his hands clench between shuddering breaths. He looks almost like he’s about to cry, Friday can’t come up with an answer as to why that is. 

But then he does something completely unexpected. He greets her. Warm and kind and familiar with just a hint of sadness creeping through. Like he’s known her for years. Like a friend. So she turns on, and allows some of the lab to turn on with her and soft light washes over Stephen. She looks on as he takes a deep breath then smiles again, brighter this time, like he’s thinking back on a good memory and Friday can’t help but grow more perplexed. He hardly knew boss, let alone her and she’s positive he never stepped foot in the lab before. So she asks him, why. And for a minute she doesn’t know which why she’s referring too. But Stephen doesn’t falter, gentle smile still in place and tells her. He tells her she knows why. There was no other way he’d said, she remembered that much. The memory feels lightyears away now. Before she can say anything in return though he asks her if she remembers when he went through the fourteen million six hundred and five futures. When she says yes he asks her what she thinks he saw. Friday doesn’t know what to say, but it’s ok because Stephen seems to understand that too and answers for her. He tells her how he lived many lives in those futures, some painful, some far more favorable, and some unforgettable. He tells her he got to know Tony very well in many, when he was lucky. And by association, her too. 

He tells her about all the times they became close. How many times he watched her blossom into a being even more impressive than she was now (while assuring her, she was still quite the marvel as she was currently). He tells her of all the little quirks and attitudes she picked up on over the years, of all the knowledge she grew into. How similar to her creator she would turn out to be. How he didn’t mind that as much as he thought he would. Not after more than fourteen million futures with the other man. After listening for a while she begins to chime in, and she watches him relax into himself as they speak. Their conversation shifts as they go on, it’s alright though. The doctors presence is comfortable and Friday is no longer so lonely. She can’t help the disappointment that worms its way into her when he tells her he has to go, even though she knew it was coming. What does surprise her is her sudden cry of his name before he goes. He looks back equally shocked as her. But she keeps steady when she asks him if he’ll be back again, telling him no one has to know if he does. Something akin to glee floods her systems when his face break out into a wide smile as he promises her that he will. 

The next day goes by and Friday tries not to feel to disappointed when the doctor doesn’t up. He must be busy, she assures herself. So she waits on, thinking up new topics to discuss with him when he returns. She doesn’t turn the lab back on, it doesn’t feel right with just her. A few more days go by and Friday begins to feel faint worry when she lets herself go through a list of possible scenarios as to why Stephen might’ve not shown up. She quickly dismisses though, they start to become to familiar. She bears through the rest of the day that follow though, Stephen said he would return after all. And tries not to remember of a stone being given up on a far away planet, or her creators face shattering with betrayal. Tries not to think of the fact that he’s dead now. There was no other way. Stephen wouldn’t have seemed so sad if there was, she thinks.

She’s going through medical journals when he next appears, and a strange feeling grips Friday when she sees him. She thinks this is what people define as joy, she’s not so sure though. Before she can bombard him with all the new information she’d downloaded though, she scans him an comes to a halt. He’s trying (and failing) to hide a very prominent limp, and his face is littered in bruises. She goes over his vitals just to make sure she’s ok, and sees two broken rips and some internal bleeding along with a couple of other minor injuries. Worry plagues her but before she can call for medical assistance Stephen hushes her and is quick to quell her worry. A few hours of meditation is all he needs he says. Friday almost scoffs, but instead demands he show her right then and there. Medical assistance is just a call away after all. Stephen gives her a wry grin but agrees, and with only slight hesitance settles into a mediative state. Friday watches him the whole time, analyzing his vitals in wonder as his injuries begin to mend themselves. True to his words within a couple of hours he’s almost completely fine. She thinks he’ll leave then but he doesn’t. He stays and talks, and she soaks it all in greedily. The wait felt like forever. Before she knows it hours have passed, and she’s still going on about the peculiar war of Jenkins ear (how it came about neither of them knew) when she notices Stephen’s drifted off. She knows she should wake him, but something in her hesitates. Maybe it’s because of the poor state he was in hours before, maybe it’s because she appreciates the company.Or maybe it’s because seeing him there sleeping peacefully under the soft iridescent glow of the lab, reminds her of someone else. Someone who worried her too, that she decides not to wake him at all.

It’s only then that the doctors cloak finally moves of it’s own accord again. Friday had wondered why it hadn’t done so before. She comes to the conclusion that it must have been giving them time to become familiar, and silently sends it a thanks. It gently slips off the doctors shoulders, giving him a tender pat on the cheek before it floats up to the center of the lab. She observes the other carefully, and it appears to do the same. It turns back to Stephen, giving him what could only be described as a doting look before turning back fiercely toward whatever spot he decided to deem as her. She can’t help the humor that comes through when the cloak folds in on itself as though it’s crossing it’s arms. A warning. It’s endearing enough that Friday doesn’t even register it as a threat. She knows what it needs though. And softly- as not to wake Stephen, she promises that she will look after the doctor. 

When Stephen wakes up he’s disoriented and confused, understandably so as he’s normally use to waking up in the sanctum. Or odd dimensions. But Friday is there to reassure him, apologizing for not waking him but Stephen waves her off. He had been tired he admits, and in turn offers his own apology for not stopping by sooner. Interdimensional beings were never courteous to his previous engagements he explains. But Friday doesn’t mind she says, so long as he promises to always come back. And Stephen doesn’t mind agreeing, he wants to keep seeing her too, after all. So they continue like that, Stephen stopping by whenever he can, engaging in different topics and eagerly encouraging all of Friday’s new interests. And Friday listens to a man who speaks as though he’s millions of years older than he looks, holding on to each word he speaks with keen and fascination. Shielding him away from the rest of her creators world with fierce care and sensible worry. She knew what many of them thought of the doctor when he wasn’t around. She’d been there when they’d hated him in private. For a while, she almost did too. But now, seeing him as he was, a broken, sad and worn down man she wonders how she could’ve even entertained the thought. Because Stephen Strange doesn’t have to tell her, she knows, he loved boss too. So she keeps him, her own little secret, hidden from anyone who would take him away from her. Because she’s come to care for him as well. And she doesn’t want to lose him either.

Everything changes when Stephen stops by one night, frantic and harried as he lands in the center of the lab. She can see his hands are shaking harder than usual and she wants to say something, anything to comfort him but the look in his eyes tells her there’s no time. The words tumble out of his mouth in one go, “I’m sorry...”, “I have to go...”,”I’ll miss you.”, “Goodbye.” and through the panic that seizes Friday she almost doesn’t process all he says. And something feels like it’s breaking, but when Stephen begs her to say anything, she can’t. Because saying anything feels like accepting something horrifyingly familiar. In the haze Friday can remember someone long ago, saying something similar right before he left...right before he died. Stephen tries not to let the disappointment show, and instead steadies himself and puts on a strained smile and waves goodbye. He turns to go but stops before he’s gone, and tells her one final thing. “Thank you.” Friday stays silent.

Days go by without a single appearance from Stephen, and Friday tries not to let fear overtake her. She busies herself with going through previous subjects her and Stephen discussed. But then the days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months and before Friday knows it, the leaves have fallen from the trees and snow has blanketed all of New York. But still, Stephen never appears. Slowly she switches from looking through subjects through looking back through old video feed. Comforting herself in the worst moments with videos of Stephen laughing softly, or smiling approvingly when she’s reached a new milestone. Friday didn’t have to feel sadness twice to know she hated it, but it seems her creator didn’t anticipate that she would be loyal to anyone else after him. So Friday slowly stops going over information, stops watching the videos (they hurt to much now), and eventually stops trying to process anything all together. But even then when pain coils around all her systems and floods her very being, settling deep and heavy she waits. Stephen promised after all. So she lulls in between being on and off, because it’s better than wanting to cry and not being able to.

Friday is barely “awake” when something crashes into the lab, alerting her. And she almost sounds off all the alarms and security systems till she remembers that only one person could breach them to begin with. She’s quickly alert, calling out for the doctor and scanning the area when she finally spots him. Barely standing, and soaked in blood, wobbling over on shaky legs before he collapses to his knees. She calls out to him but he only smiles, warm and kind like always, “Sorry for making you wait.”, and passes out completely right in the middle of the lab. Cloak wrapping up around him dutifully like always. A quick scan lets Friday know the doctor is scarcely alive, hanging by a thread and she panics. She doesn’t care in that moment if he hates her after, or if she never sees him again. She doesn’t want him to die. So she calls for help, and waits.

Stephen wakes up in a daze, feeling groggy as he tries to swallow. The room around him is white, and the smell of disinfectant hangs low in the air while beeping noises disrupt him from the side. Finally realization settles in and he almost topples over when he sits up. He immediately regrets the movement though when pain flares through his side, slowly coursing through the rest of his body and he lets out a groan. He briefly registers the cloak trying to coax him back down but he struggles through it. Then, he hears it. The soothing Irish voice that had become so familiar in the previous months. Friday. Her voice echoes through the room, enveloping him in a tender hold and soothing all his nerves as she tells him everything’s ok. Confusion must be clear across his face because she tells him to look down to his left, and there she is, on the side table encased in a new perfectly sleek Starkphone. A little note wedged carefully beneath her. ‘Take good care of her-P’. And Stephen can’t help but stare in awe, wonder settling deep within and swirling around like swarm of butterflies inside him. He can’t even register Friday or the cloaks concerns because he’s to busy drowning in the flood of emotions that envelop him. Because even through fourteen million six hundred and five possibilities, Friday followed. Through every torment and onslaught of horror every lifetime crushed him in, Friday’s love for him still managed to sneak through and find it’s way into this universe too. So Stephen cries, because he can’t help it. Because she’s there, right beside him, like she was so many times before.

From then on Friday becomes a permanent resident of the sanctum and dependable travel companion to him and the cloak. After a few trial and errors, and with her help of course, she gets installed in the sanctum. He still keeps the phone- as she’s quick to remind him, he never has to leave her waiting again. She settles in well with Wong too, (the cloak had already expressed approval all those months ago) he appreciates how smart she is and she joins him in chastising Stephen when he pushes himself to hard. She never feels unwelcome from either of them, Stephen’s other family, because ultimately she loves Stephen too. And as the seasons change, this new place isn’t so new anymore and instead earns the title of home. And she settles in for a different kinda of chaos, welcomed none the less because it’s Stephen’s and she decides she’s happy. Through the bright days, when the sanctum is quiet and Stephen studies the day away. Through the difficult days when Stephen has to wander off fighting evil entities. Through the nights when Stephen lays awake trying to keep awful thoughts at bay. It’s good. And in between, during private little moments reserved just for the two of them, as the only two in the sanctum who can speak on the matter. When the pain becomes to much and they find solace with each other they mourn, over the man they both loved to much for having spent to little time with. It’s ok though, because they have each other. And Friday never feels lonely again.

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 4:   The Mad Leader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: References to violence, minor assault, 

Author’s note: First off, I’d like to send a special Thank You to someone who was a huge inspiration to me and to this story. This is the chapter that really started it all and I was inspired by @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng  ‘s mafia reaction series. She is a fantastic person and was one of the first people I showed this Be My Light to when I was too scared to post it. She is a beautiful soul and wonderful writer. Thank you for the push. 

Another Big thanks to my editor for sticking with me all this time and into the future. And, of course, to all the people who are reading, commenting, and reblogging this. I can’t tell you all how much is means to me. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Be My Light. (P.S. I have a thing for RM in a long trench coat.)

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine , @mrsfortune1306 , @lovesick-heart0 , @iamnamjoonsbxtch , @deathkat657 , @deeepvibes , @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns , @joyfullyobsessed , @elvencantation , 

                                   Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

              You stared at the cell phone clutched in your hand, your mind spinning with so many questions. Who were those people? Why did talking to this ‘RM’ make you feel like something bad was coming? With that deep, serious tone, were they just as dangerous as the man with the cane? And what kind of normal person calls themselves ‘RM’? Agust was already on the edge of interesting and odd as it was. Scanning over the still lit screen, you wondered what other names were in the contact list. Other than ‘God of Destruction’, the last few calls you could see without going through the device belonged to ‘Mochi’, ‘My Favorite’, and ‘Worldwide Pain in my Ass’. Based on those names, you couldn’t begin to imagine who was gonna match those names.

               It was safe to assume that this RM guy was concerned about the man in the suit trying to finish the job. The hospital had a good security team but you thought it best to talk to Doctor- Henry- to see if more could be done. Your hand paused as it went to put the cell phone back with Agust’s things; if RM or any of the odd named voices tried to contact you for an update, they would most likely call that, instead of trying to navigate the hospital switch board. Figuring it was the best option, you placed the phone safely in your scrub’s pocket as you moved to the bedside for one last check on the patient. Agust hadn’t moved again since right before the phone call and was still as could be. The monitors were all reading normally. There was a blood transfusion line in his arm to help replace what he had lost, along with another IV pushing fluids and medication. You adjusted his arm to make it more comfortable for him once he woke up.

               “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” you said as you fixed his blankets. “Please, try not to do anything until I get back.”

               You slipped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind you. There was an anxious feeling that crept back into your gut, the same one you felt when you had first heard the gun shots ring out from the silence of the construction site. Your mind had so many thoughts and scenarios running through it that you felt overwhelmed. Things like, ‘what if the man with the cane and rough voice came here? Would he shoot his way through the floors until he found Agust? Were you really as safe as you hoped?’ The hospital had been under a few threats but nothing had ever come from those except words. It would be best to stay as cautious as possible. You had too many friends and patients to not take your feelings seriously.

               As you made your way towards your station, you were surprised to see that Henry was already there leaning over the desk with the phone pressed up against his ear. He pulled a pad of paper from the other side of the desk and started scribbling something down as he nodded and spoke in a low tone to whomever was on the other end. That saves me from having to page him, you mused. Henry did a double take towards you when he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. He beaconed you over with an urgent wave of his hand. The calm yet awkward demeanor from earlier had been replaced with a more serious one. Once you were within an arm’s reach of him, he reassured whomever he was talking to that ‘everything will be taken care of’ and hung up.

               “Good,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I need you to help me.”

               “Henry, about that John Doe patient. I was able to talk to someone close to him. I think we may need to alert the security team about- “

               “I’ve already talked to them. The hospital is going on alert for any suspicious activity entering the hospital. And we are actually moving the patient to one of the private units upstairs. I just got off the phone with the director and we’ve got everything worked out for you so you’ll be safe,” he said over his shoulder as he started walking down the hall.

               “Wait, what does that mean? What do you mean by worked everything out?” You took extra long steps to keep up with his brisk pace.

               “The same person who demanded higher security for that patient requested that you be kept with him as his private staff until otherwise. Which means you’ll be in the secure ward with him in case anything happens. It’s gonna be for the best. You were the first one with him and it’s gonna be more comfortable if he doesn’t have to get acclimated to someone else after all this. Don’t worry, we’ve got it worked out with Jax already.”

               Henry led you back into Agust’s room and made fast work of disconnecting him from the machines that surrounded him. He pulled the IV bags down and placed them on the bed by the still form. Meanwhile, you were frozen at the end of the bed, feeling dizzy from how fast he seemed to expect you to understand what was happening. This wasn’t the first gang related case you had been assigned to since starting at Mercy, nor was it the first gunshot case; why did this sudden change to the routine make you feel ever more nervous? Never had you moved a patient into a secure wing designed from more severe or quarantined patients before just because someone had requested it. Henry called your name to shake you from your thoughts and motioned you to move to the side of the bed as he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and pushed the bed from the wall. As you helped guide it from the room, you couldn’t help but feel the tension grow.

               “So, I am just supposed to stay locked up in some room like a prisoner? And be someone’s private nurse? What about the rest of my patients here? I can’t just leave Amber to tend to them all alone. We are short staffed as it is,” you mentioned as you navigated everyone into the elevator at the end of the hall.

               Henry hit a button and the elevator started to move. He leaned close to look you in the face, his eyes filled with seriousness. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is strange but you just have to trust me. I don’t know all the details but someone particularly important has to be involved to make the director so quick to comply with whatever they asked. But no matter what, your safety is my priority, maybe a bit more than my patients. I’m sure the director thinks that too. Whoever it is must just want to make sure this guy has the best care possible. And when he gets here, he’ll probably want to hear from you what happened. And if whatever gang did this does try anything, I don’t want you to worry because no one is going to get to him or you. Only the director, you, and I will have access to this room or know where he is. Apparently, the man the director talked to said he would have a way to get a hold of you and prove his identity to gain access. I know how you are, Y/N, you are a great person. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But don’t think that you are inconveniencing anyone; Jax has already rearranged everything and made some calls. I really need you to think about yourself now. And what is best is for you is to do what I am asking and not over think this right now.”

               Henry was being so sincere that you couldn’t find the voice to make any arguments. You gave him a weak nod and tried to take what he said to heart. As Amber had pointed out before, one of your qualities was that you put others well before yourself. Hence, why you were in this predicament. As the doors opened onto the new floor, you promised him that you would try.

               The door opened onto a floor where the more severe, long term patients were kept. This floor could, also, be used for quarantining or the more delicate of patients. At the moment, you knew it had only a few occupants: a coma patient, a patient suffering from extreme burns, and someone from the psych ward that needed more focused attention. To enter this ward, you needed a key card, making this more isolated than your full and frantic floor. Henry commented there was no record that Agust had been moved in any of the files. And if anyone tried to look him up, it would be like he never existed. The person who had called to make all this happen had said he’d contact you and that he and his colleagues were to say they were here to perform community service if asked by anyone else. Apparently, they deemed it as security protection. Henry had you swipe your ID to gain access to the floor and you made your way down the silent hall to the vacant room Henry had staked out for you to stay in. The room was bigger than the one you were used to on your floor. There was a small couch across from where the bed was to go, a private bath off near the entrance, and even a TV in the corner. There was, also, a small recliner near where the head of the gurney was to rest. You imagined you’d be there most of the time. Henry helped you set everything back up in the room and did a quick check on the patient after he was secured in his new residence.

               “Hopefully, he’s gonna wake up a bit soon. He’s reacting well to what I’m doing,” Henry commented as he checked Agust’s pupils constrict as he shined his pen light in them. He gave some instructions about his IV and transfusion processes. He gave you a quick run down of the floor in case you needed anything. “Until he wakes up, I guess feel free to do whatever in here. It can be like a mini vacation. You know, if you ignore all the weird stuff happening. You can watch some TV or order some food. The mysterious man said to spare no expense when it came to our patient or you. I promise by Friday this will be all over and we can go out and talk about nicer things. Okay?”

               Before you could stop yourself, you felt your cheeks get hot and you turned your eyes to the floor. This was not the best place for this, but you knew Henry did it to only ease the anxiety you were feeling. He was almost too perfect. Henry promised to check in once he had finished his rounds as he left from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. You heard the security lock click into place, knowing it would only open from the inside or if you had an ID card. You allowed yourself to drop into the recliner, allowing everything to wash over you. Paranoia was thick in the air as you tried to make sense of everything. Henry was right; whoever these people were they must just want to talk to you and this was easier than scouting the halls. But the thought did very little to chase the nervousness away. Your hands started to rub together out of tension, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles one by one with your thumbs. You took a few deep breaths as you tried to force yourself out of the impending panic. Your eyes looked over at the bed. You tried to remind yourself that you needed to keep it together and be strong for him. Then your eyes landed on his hand. You remembered when you were hiding behind the counter when the man with the cane was getting closer and closer. And when Agust had reached over and squeezed your hand. In that moment, he gave you reassurance with such a small gesture, not thinking of himself. You remembered how genuine it felt. It’d be nice if you could do that now, you thought with a weak smile.

               Instead, you settled for forcing yourself to think of something else. You read through his charts, tapped through some news on your phone, and tried to people watch out the window behind the couch. The afternoon sun had started making its way towards the horizon; how quickly the day had ended up flying by. You had decided against turning on the television for now, thinking how awkward it would be for him to wake up to you watching some trash TV show. You tried walking around the room to get a sense of where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But all of that only killed twenty minutes and you were still stir-crazy. There wasn’t much you could do for Agust at the moment, except allow him to rest without you trying to hold his hand or anything else.

               Suddenly, there was a buzzing in your pocket; it was Agust’s phone. You were a bit ashamed at how quickly you reached for it. There was a new text message. It was from a new named contact: Sunshine. The preview of the message said, ‘To Miss Nurse’, making your assumption that the people on the other end would have expected you to keep the phone on you correct. And since it was addressed to you, you didn’t feel too bad about opening the phone again. You swiped open the text and tried not to scroll anywhere higher into their previous chats.

-          Sunshine: To Miss Nurse. if you see this, please take good care of our Hyung. And if he gives you any trouble, tell him I said to behave. RM should be almost there. He tends to speed.  

               There were a couple silly emojis next to it that made you smile. Surely, they can’t be bad people if this is how they communicate. They must be close friends. Though, you still wondered how they had gotten the director to do all this. Maybe there was someone else doing all of this? You shook your head and typed a quick message back, so not to have them worry.

-          I’ll take good care of him. That’s my job.

You really hoped Agust didn’t mind you messing with his phone. Though, you figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. There was no response which made you think that it was all he needed at the time. Gazing at the clock on the phone, you had wasted thirty minutes in the room so far. You thought of your backpack in the locker room a few floors down and some of your things at your stations that you could pass the time with. Since Agust was secure here, you thought it may be a good idea to gather some things to help you waste time until this RM shows up. It was unlikely that Agust was going to wake up yet, and you could be fast so he wouldn’t be alone for long. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and rose from the chair, heading for the door. You cast one more look at the still figure in the bed before dimming the lights and pulled the door shut behind you.

               You set off at a brisk pace for the elevator and took it down a few levels to where the staff locker room was kept. You raced in, pulled your bag from your locker, and left before anyone noticed you. You were sure since the director had put the whole hospital on alert that everyone was making rounds to keep eyes everywhere. You hoped grabbing your stuff from your station was just as easy; you weren’t sure about how to explain why you had suddenly deserted your station. Amber wasn’t there but you could hear her and Jax talking loudly from a back room. You wanted to talk to your best friend, to help ease some nerves and have her tell you exactly what you needed to hear. But you didn’t want to wait around or take her away from her new workload. You pulled open the drawer where you kept some personal items, incase of slower work days, and shoved them into your bag. You froze when your fingers hit against something that you knew, instantly, should not be in your bag. Peering into the opening, your eyes locked onto a metallic, black, studded object that you had seen earlier that morning.  

              The gun Agust had placed in your hand.

             How did that get in there? You didn’t remember grabbing it unless it had happened in the chaos of the EMTs and police rushing to assess the situation. Well, if you weren’t already anxious, this just made it worse. Let’s just add this to the ever-growing list of stupid things I’ve done today, you berated yourself. You brought a potentially loaded gun into a hospital. You needed to get back up to the room and get this out of your possession. Maybe when this RM got there, he could take it from you. You pulled the bag shut and slugged it over your shoulder, trying hard not to think about it.

            You moved away from the desk and down the hall towards the elevator. But as you stepped into the silent hall with all the doors closed, one was not closed as it had been when you left; the room where Agust had been. And there was someone looking inside. There was a man, tall and stocky, and dressed in a simple navy uniform. He wasn’t a part of the hospital staff and you didn’t think he was there to clean the room with the lights still off. Trying to stay as unnoticed as you could, you took longer strides towards the end. As you passed behind him, you peered beyond him into the pitch blackness of the room to just make out another figure lurking there. He wasn’t dressed in the same way as the man in the door. He was in darker colors that you couldn’t make out and wore what looked like a fedora on his head. What caught your attention as you passed, was the small peek of icy, blue hairs that were just visible on the side. A deep grumble that sounded from the room made your breath catch in your throat, and made you stop in your tracks. It sounded so familiar to the sadistic voice from this morning. The man with the cane had gotten into the hospital?! How, they upped security measures, hadn’t they? Maybe it was your imagination playing with you with all the stress. Not wanting to stick around to figure out if you were right, you tried to get away before they had noticed you.

            But, sadly, you weren’t that lucky.

           “Excuse me, nurse. Perhaps you can help me.”

           You felt your whole body stiffen as the voice was all to clearly the one that had stalked you from beyond the counter. The voice that dripped with crazed malice and venom as he called out for Agust, that had taunted and tried to lure him out. The voice that you were sure would haunt your dreams. It was the man with the cane, though he didn’t have it now. As you turned, he looked nothing like the half-crazed man yelling and destroying things around him. He looked almost normal, save for the fake smile he had plastered across his lips. He was no longer dressed in the light blue suit and fur coat you had caught a glimpse behind the counter, but in a simple dark blazer and trousers. The man who lingered in the doorway had come to stand next to him as they walked up to you, dressed in a police uniform. His uniform cap was pulled low to obscure his face, though you could see bruising and swelling through the shadows. Both of them gave a slight bow to you.

           “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Taop, this is officer Chen. We are here following up on a patient that was supposed to be brought here. I’ve been looking everywhere, but no one has an answer for me whether he is here or not. And I haven’t seen a single worker on this floor.”

           He had never seen you at the scene so you knew he didn’t recognize you, or could see that you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. That would help you, you decided. You took a deep breath and tried to hide the fear and nervousness. Just act normal. Try to stall until someone comes around.

           “Sorry, officer, we’re a bit understaffed as it is. What can I help you with?”

           “I’m looking for a patient that was brought here. Gunshot victim, a young man, brought in this morning?”

           “Can you be a bit more specific? We are a hospital. Do you know how many young men we have come in here with some kind of bullet wound? I had six this month.”

           You saw the smile slip and irritation rise in those cold eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to his polite composure. “This one would have come in this morning. There was a shooting downtown. He would have had multiple gunshot wounds. One nurse said he was brought in by ambulance this morning, but then another said that they found no record of him. And the last person I talked to sent me here. Please, this is very important.”

           “Can I see your badge, sir?” He looked completely off guard by the question. You, also, seemed confused. It had just jumped out of your mouth before you realized it. But it seemed like the right thing to ask. You continued, “There’s been a threat made to the hospital, you see, and I need to make sure that everything is in order. I would get in trouble if I gave such information about any patient to an imposter.”

           You could see the wheels in his head turning. But you didn’t expect him to nod his head, understandingly, and reach into his pocket to hand you a leather, bifold wallet. Was this psycho really a police officer? How could someone so vile be in law enforcement? You thought back to what little memories of your father that you had lingering in the back of your mind and couldn’t begin to imagine him doing anything like what this man had done, no matter how bad of a criminal they were. Before you could think, your body seemed to act on it’s own again and opened the wallet and your eyes started to dance across the metal shield. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for at first. Until your eyes caught it and something clicked in your mind. It was a fake, but an exceptionally good fake. Anyone else would have just taken it at face value but something in your mind flashed and screamed that this was a fake like the smile still on the ‘inspector’s’ face. In the reaches of your memory, you remembered running your fingers over your father’s badge, memorizing every detail. And you still did that when you were stressed out; you still had his badge and it was currently in the front pocket of your bag. And you seemed to recall your father teaching you how to identify a real badge from others.

           A sudden anger took hold of you that seemed to spur on some brave part of you. You closed the wallet and handed it back to him, keeping your face neutral to hide that you were even more sure of his act. Maybe it was the dishonor to officers like your father, or that he was trying to get to the boy you had risked a lot to save. And your hard work was not going to waste. “I’m sorry officer. But like I said, we have a few patients that could fit your description. None on this floor at all. And if the other nurses said they have no record of him, I’m not sure what I can do for you. Besides that, if we did have a patient come in with multiple gunshot wounds, I imagine that they’d need extensive surgery and wouldn’t be conscious to answer any questions you could have. And with no guardian to act in their place until they are awake to consent to a line of questioning about a traumatic experience, I can’t let you go any further. You should know that, Officer.”

           The smile was wiped from the man’s face. The uniformed man’s eyes got wide at your declaration and they shifted towards his leader in panic. Taop, or whatever his real name was, straightened up and took a step towards you. He towered over you and the energy radiating from him would have intimidated you into submission. Just like with your ex. But you needed to protect Agust. In any case, all you needed to do was scream and someone would be alerted. There wasn’t much this asshole could accomplish without being found out. But he continued to advance until he backed you up against the wall. Even still, you never broke eye contact with him.

           “I don’t think you understand the situation of this, little girl,” he said, rage tittering on the edge of his voice. “There are some really dangerous people and it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfires. It’s in your best interest to answer my questions and tell me what I need to know.”

           “Then bring a warrant,” you challenged.

           His hand collided with the wall next to your head, making you jump. His face was so close to yours now, and there was the crazed man you remembered from this morning. Your heart was in your ears. He, suddenly, took a deep inhale then another before tilting his head to the side. “What a brave little girl. Tell me, where were you this morning? Something tells me you may be exactly who I need to talk to.”

           “Hey, back off her!”

           Both you and the man turned to look down the hall towards the elevator towards the source of the deep voice that had interrupted the line of questioning. The doors of the elevator were opened and from them stepped a young man with platinum white hair. His eyes were haunting and strong, like a dragon woken from his peace. He was exceptionally tall, taking long strides towards the scene. You couldn’t help but let your eyes take in the man who was coming to your rescue. Dressed in a dark trouser and a white buttoned up shirt gave him a classic handsomeness, and a long black coat with a hood drawn up that accentuated his height. As he approached, he slid the hood down and swiped his hand up to push the stray white hairs from his face. If you weren’t terrified, you would have appreciated how handsome he was. You glanced back at the man caging you; his body tensed as the newcomer walked up but his face never showed.

           He let out a sigh and a small smile reappeared, but it was not the same he had tried to charm you with. It was one of arrogance.  “Ah, Mr. Kim,” the inspector said, not moving from his position, “how nice of you to drop in.”

          “You’ve got some nerve,” the handsome newcomer said, his tone low and smooth. 

          “What for? Being too formal? Do you not like me using your surname? I’m not sure which name you prefer now; you change names so often, it’s hard to keep up after all this time.”

          “You’re one to talk. What name are you going by now, officer? Here to investigate a fraud? Or are you here to put yourself into more trouble?”

          “Such a negative attitude. Officer Chen and I are here on official business,” the detective flashed his badge at the so named Mr. Kim. “And this nice young lady was willing to help me out with some information. Isn’t that right, Little Girl?”

          “It sure doesn’t look that way coming from the elevator. I think you need to take a step back,” Mr. Kim ordered with a strong but suggestive tone that made you question what kind of power someone as young looking as him could possess.

          The fake detective made no sign that he was planning on heeding the newcomer’s words to move from your personal space. His eyes shifted from Mr. Kim back to you. His stare bore into you sharper than claws and made your breath catch. You weren’t sure if he was trying to scare you into agreeing with him or just threaten you. But Mr. Kim was having none of that; he gave the older man’s shoulder a hard shove and wedged himself in the space between you to keep you away from the other man. Mr. Kim reached a hand behind him and placed it on your arm, to keep you secure behind him and to give you some reassurance that he was not going to hurt you. You couldn’t help yourself, as you fisted your hands into the back of his coat and peered around his massive frame.

          “You always have to play savior, don’t you Rapmon?” The way he had said the name made it seem like he was trying to strike a nerve in Mr. Kim. But the other man gave no sign that he was bothered. “You make it seem like I was doing something unseemly to her. You and your broken boy scouts always turn things difficult. Speaking of, where are the others? Maybe they could answer some questions for me. There’s one in particular I’m interested in seeing. I’m checking up on a victim from a shooting downtown. Just making sure he’s doing alright.”

          “You’re really committed to this bit, aren’t you Choi? Oh, sorry- what name are you going by today? It’s so hard to keep track, isn’t that what you said?” Mr. Kim tilted his head to the side, eyes twinkling with a mischievous shine.

          “What a nuisance you are. I’m just trying to get information to make sure things go well. Though come to think of it, your boys may not know much. Word was that the victim was all alone. Left all by themselves, bleeding and hurt in such a dangerous situation. What kind of friends would let someone knowingly go into that situation alone? Now, I’d really like to finish my conversation with the little lady, Rapmon.” When Choi, as you figured his name actually was, took a step towards you, Mr. Kim moved the both of you to keep you behind him and further away from the other. “Well, since you seem hellbent on keeping me from doing something so simple, I could always ask you. Though to be honest, your being here may have answered my questions.”

          “My being here answers nothing,” Mr. Kim challenged. “Unlike you, I am here to do good for the community. And it’s a good thing I came by when I did. You’re already on thin ice after all the trouble you’ve caused. Imagine what would happen if you caused any problems while on Hallowed Ground. If you were to hurt anyone staying or working here, you would have more than my family looking for you. The rest of the Families would be looking to teach you a lesson. Imagine what most of them will think when they hear about the deceit you pulled this morning. After what I witnessed, you can be sure I’ll have eyes monitoring this place. You will not go against the Accords.”

          “Don’t you lecture me about the Accords, you psycho. I’ve been around just as long as they have and lived them. I taught them to you.”

          “And yet, you only follow them when they suit you. Just like your leader and his before him. But things are different now. They are gone, and your hold is slipping. I have enough pull now to ensure Accords are followed. And if you want to make a further spectacle of yourself, I’ll gladly show you I’m not that kid anymore that you ordered around. You saw what my boys can do when pushed. Try me.”

          Choi started to laugh, eyes shining in disbelief at the younger bossing him around. As you peered around Mr. Kim’s frame, you saw him go to say something to officer Chen, but couldn’t form the word. He raised his hand towards the white-haired man, but let it drop with a growl. Whatever look was set upon the elder made him rethink his next move. He settled for raising his hands in a surrender and jerking his head towards his companion to tell him they were leaving. It surprised you that he was giving up so easily after how he had acted towards you. You weren’t sure what Mr. Kim meant by accords and families, but it was more than obvious that it meant something to them. Glancing up at your protector, his face remained locked in the same stern and serious mask he had when he had appeared. His eyes, perfectly lined and accentuated with makeup that only made him more intriguing, followed the pair as they turned down the hall.

          But before they could get too far, Choi stopped. He turned enough to gaze at the two of you over his shoulder, the dark and manic gleam from that morning flashing like a warning sign. He chuckled before his teasing and taunting voice that had called out to Agust filled the hall like glass shattering. “Look at how far our little maniac has come. Really living up to the title of Mad Leader, aren’t you? He thinks he’s so big and strong that he can just order me around and act like a knight in shining armor to the weak. The Mad Leader’s trying so hard to put up a front, to hide who he is, to hide the other side of the looking glass. But lest he forget, I know things he wouldn’t want others to know. And I seem to recall,” Choi turned fully around and took a full stride back towards Mr. Kim, “you had an issue with places like this. You don’t enjoy being here. Are you falling down the rabbit hole? You even have an Alice this time it would seem. So tell me, Mad Leader, are the walls closing in on you yet? Are you feeling anxious?”

          You could feel Mr. Kim tense up at the name ‘Mad Leader’ each time Choi said it. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He gave you a polite push away from him before fixing Choi with a glare that made officer Chen startle. You could almost feel the air change as he stepped up to be nose to nose with the thug.

          “Since you can’t seem to remember my name, asshole, let me spell it out for you. It’s RM, R to the M. And I’m a motherfucking monster. Keep pushing me. I dare you. You hurt one of my boys. You better pray that he makes it out of all this ok. Or you’ll see just how ‘mad’ I can get.”

          Chen seemed to realize that something bad was building as he took hold of his superior and pulled him away from RM, newly identified. Choi kept the taunting smile spread across his lips as he allowed Chen to lead him away. Before he got too far, he looked over at you and gave a nod, “We’ll be in touch, Little Girl.” And then he disappeared from the floor, leaving you in the presence of RM. You can’t say you had expected this person to belong to the voice on the other end of the phone, but it would seem like that was the theme of the day. The tall man took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his white hair before turning back to you. The serious mask he had worn had slipped away and was more approachable. He straightened his clothes before returning to your side.

          “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, “But he shouldn’t be back. He talks a good game but he knows when he’s out done. Did he hurt you?”

          You shook your head. “I can’t believe he got in. The hospital is on lock down.”

          “Well, he’s been around a while. He has his ways. Now that he’s gone, I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for a nurse called Y/N.” You locked eyes with him and gave him a nod of affirmation. He gave you a smile, showing off a pair of dimples in his cheeks that made him much more innocent and sweeter than the man who had gone nose to nose with the monstrous thug. “That’s a coincidence. Nice to meet you. Can you show me where to go?”

          “Prove that you’re who you say you are,” you said, taking a step away from him. Despite that you were sure he was the one you had talked to, it seemed like nothing was safe. He looked at you for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone before letting his finger glide across the screen. A moment later, Agust phone sounded off in your pocket. He glanced over at you with a bemused look as you pulled the phone out and saw the screen lit up with a notification.

-          God of Destruction: It’s me.

          “Sorry,” you said, feeling embarrassed by your sudden suspicion, “but after that guy flashed a fake police badge at me, I just wanted to be sure. Thank you for coming and for helping me. Are you Agust’s brother or a friend?”

          RM’s eyes narrowed when he heard you say Agust and gave you a strange look. His eyes seemed to dance about you, as if he was trying to figure something out. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared and he smiled again. “We usually call him Suga. Only people who don’t like him call him Agust. I don’t think he’d want you calling him that. Can we go see him now? We’ve been worried about him.” You nodded and motioned him to follow you back to the elevator. As you waited for the doors to reopen, he leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hyung you had his phone.”

          “What? Does he have some embarrassing things on here,” you joked.

          “Maybe,” came the reply and heard RM chuckle as he allowed you to step into the elevator.

          You hit the button for the floor that they moved Agu- Suga to, the doors slid shut, and the lift jolted to a start. As the sound of the mechanisms filled the space, you caught a glimpse of the tall man flinch. It seemed odd, seeing as he had just faced off against the most frightening person you had ever seen. The taunting words he had said to RM before leaving came to mind, about not liking it in a hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have bad experiences related to hospitals, so you tried to brush it off. Once you had made it to the secure floor, you led him down the hall. You explained that the floor was only accessible to a few people and how they had followed the directions as specified to the director. The entire time, RM listened very intently, eyes never leaving you. He was the picture of professionalism and sincerity. You swiped the two of you into the ward, and he held the door open for you as you led him down the hall to the room. As you neared the room, you wondered if you were going to survive the present of two very handsome men. Hopefully, the rest of his friends that you heard over the phone were somewhat average.

          As you both entered the room, RM came to a stop in the threshold of the door, his eyes staring at the bed. You could see the worry and panic that you had heard over the phone slip across his face. You reached out and touched his arm. He looked at you with an almost innocent gaze, like he was questioning if it was alright to get closer. You gave him a nod and he was beside his friend in a flash. He looked as if he was debating to reach out to Suga, as if he were made of glass, but settled for taking hold of his hand. RM let out a breath and looked relieved to have finally seen his friend. From your place at the edge of the room, you could see how much one meant to the other and all worries about them being as bad as Choi disappeared.

          “Is he going to be ok? What did they do to him,” RM asked, never taking his eyes off his companion.

          “Dr. Na took good care of him,” you said, reaching for the file at the end of the bed. “He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and on his left side. The gunshot wound on his side appeared to be at close range and the bullet went through. Thankfully, there wasn’t much damage done. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, but Dr. Na was able to remove it and mend up some of the damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but he should have full range of motion after some rest. He, also, has some bruised ribs and a slight concussion. Along with bruising and defensive wounds pretty much everywhere. He, also, lost a lot of blood. He’s in the middle of a transfusion now. But he is responding well to everything and we believe he should be waking up soon. With enough care, patience, and support, he should make a full recovery in no time. Which is amazing; when I found him, I was worried with how much blood he had lost that he may have had a harder road to recovery.”

          RM flicked his eyes over to you. “You found him?”

          “They must not have told you. I was on my way to work when I heard the gunshots. I was the first to find him and get him to safety.”

          RM looked like he wanted to ask more questions, when a soft groan came from the bed and drew the attention. Suga took in a deep breath and his body shifted as if fighting to wake and identify the voices. After a tense moment, his body relaxed and his eyes opened slightly. From the edge of the bed, you could see the glazed and shiny effects of the medication still trying to hold him in the state of unconsciousness, and realized he may not fully be aware of what is happening. But you were sure the presence of RM had drawn him out enough to give them a sign that he was okay. RM called out to his hyung softly, drawing Suga’s attention as he gazed about the room.

          “Hyung, hey, can you hear me?”

          Suga’s eyes fully landed on RM. It seemed as if he was fighting his way to recognition before he gave a small, drugged smile back. “Joon,” his voice sounded exhausted and stained.

          RM laughed. “Yeah, Hyung, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe.”

          “Joonie, I think I’m dead. I saw an angel.”

          The whitehaired man reached out and ran his fingers, gently, through his friend’s hair. “No, Hyung, you’re only tired. That bastard messed you up but you’re gonna be alright now. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The boys and I will be here when you wake up.”

          “Oh,” Suga said, almost sounding disappointed as the drugs started to drag him back to oblivion, “too bad. It was a pretty angel. Prettier than Jiminie and Hyungie combined. But don’t tell them I said that.” And just as fast as he woke, Suga went silent and still again.

[bagelbright-tok]

Take Me to Funkytown!

____   

Yellow Temperance proves to be a great enemy to Jotaro. Without much of an aid there to assist the teen, he hasn’t much of a choice but to fight for his life. After trying to burn and freeze temperance off of his finger, hope is lost. At least, until an odd individual dances their way into the fight. Ally or enemy? Temperance and Jotaro are unsure.

Jotaro x fem!Reader [Platonic One-shot]

Italics = the music

Word Count: 1,564 Warning(s): Violence, swearing, negligence, bit of social isolation, intense grooving, swearing again, gross horny man tries hitting on reader, I did not re-read __ Blame It on the Boogie! __

You were mostly just touring Singapore for your own personal reasons. You had nothing else to do and you got bored quickly. So, you packed your bags and left for Singapore. You had the essentials; clothes, personal hygiene products, and your Walkman cassette player and headphones. The flights over were smooth as could be. Not like you noticed much anyhow. Most of the time, you had your headphones on, listening to the several cassettes you also had brought in your bag. Since you’d left, you’d made 0 social interactions with other humans. That didn’t bother you in the least. You didn’t necessarily care much for making friends along the way. In fact, you dreaded when people would talk to you. They were annoying, quite frankly. So you would drown out the voices with your music. The only problem was that you would get sick of listening to the same songs over and over again. The perks of traveling were being able to try out new music from places around the world.

Your thoughts were mostly blank while you peered out of the train window at the city you were approaching. “Hey pretty lady~!”

A man’s voice quickly pierced the air around you. But you couldn’t hear him over your loud music. He noticed that quickly and took this as a sign to sit right next to you. “What’s a girl like you sitting all by yourself?”

You scooted away from him once you noticed he had sat next to you. Your smiling expression quickly turned into a frustrated one. You couldn’t hear the man, but his presence alone made you uncomfortable. You became infuriated when you felt his hand remove your headphones. “C’mon girl, don’t-”

You didn’t let him finish as you summoned your Stand, and sent it lunging at the man. Your Stand, Ace’s Wand, representing the tarot card Ace of Wands, was a Stand with the form that could vary depending on your mood and the sounds in the air. With you angry without music, your Stand took on a horrifying form that you could barely comprehend. The noises it made as well were scary. All you could see was the body of the annoying man getting flung like a ragdoll. His body was crumpled like a piece of paper on the other end of the train.

You scoffed, grabbed your headphones, and returned to your position. Your music continued and your site seeing went on. Everyone was scared and confused as they surrounded the man in concern. “Won’t you take me to Funkytown?” You bobbed your head to the beat while everyone whispered in a hushed and terrified tone.

***

The train ride turned into a cableway ride. You sat in a cable car with a man, his kid, and their dog. The kid happily snacked on his popsicle as he enjoyed the view from the car. You were doing the same, except you were listening to your music instead of snacking on a popsicle. Looking out the window, you noticed a guy on a cylindrical shaped building that was tall enough to reach the height of the cable car. It was an odd sight for sure, you even gave him a confused squint. You noticed his sights landing on your cable car. You blinked a couple of times. Your eyes quickly widened when you saw him back up, then charge forth towards your car.

“Oh shit!” You whispered loudly. The teen landed on the car and clutched to the side you had been viewing from. You noticed a purple figure emerge from him and rip the door off the car. Things only got weirder. The man peered at you, then turned his attention to the kid with the popsicle. 

“Hey kid, I am gonna need to use this.” The kid began to cry until the teen spoke again, “Alright, I’ll buy you a new popsicle when we reach the ground.”

The kid nodded, and the tall teen rose back to his height. Your headphones had been knocked off during the impact of the teen crashing into the car. You hardly noticed, even hearing the teen talk and hearing yourself talk. “Whoa! What an entrance! What the hell are you doing?” You blurted out.

“Is this your kid, lady?” The black haired teen asked.

“What? Hell no.”

“Then shut up and enjoy the view.”

Your brows furrowed at that statement. It was of annoyance, but then it turned into confusion when you noticed the yellow blob on the teen’s hand. Just what was going on? You could only ask this as the teen pressed the cold treat onto the yellow substance, wincing in pain in the process as the gross yellow jello spiked and stabbed into his hand. Things only escalated when another presence began to enter the cable car through the door that the teen had rudely ripped off. The presence was similar to the substance on the teenager’s hand, except larger and with another person inside.

“Can’t you get it through your thick skull?” The deep male voice spoke in a taunting manner that sent shivers down your own spine. “My Stand, Yellow Temperance, is indestructible! No matter how much power you may have, you cannot beat my Stand!”

Well shit. It means you’ve found yourself in a Stand battle. You found yourself even more infuriated than before on the train. The black haired teen referred to as Jotaro had ripped a pole from the car and tried to swing it at Yellow Temperance. It wasn't just Jotaro, though. It was his Stand, a large purple humanoid entity that was clearly fast and strong. Angered, you put on your headphones and stood up. It was as the Stand projected itself onto Jotaro and the cable car that things got weird.

Jotaro and the user of Yellow Temperance were now looking at you. Your expression was scrunched up and you could feel the heat rising. With the beat of your music, you had better control of your Stand. "Don't blame it on the sunshine!"

You moved with the rhythm and summoned your Stand without further comment. "Don't blame it on the moonlight."

"Holy shit!" Temperance's user yelled in horror as his eyes laid on your Stand. You could barely make that out with your music as loud as it is.

"What the hell!" Jotaro also exclaimed, but not as loud. Based on Temperance's reaction, it clued him in on the fact that you are clearly not with him. A relief, but also, you aren't with the Joestars.

"Don't blame it on the good times." Just as Temperance was about to latch onto you, you sent out your Stand first. "Blame it on the-!" "BOOGIE!" Your Stand screeched as it went up against the yellow Stand.

The enemy user only screamed as he witnessed your Stand vigorously and aggressively stabbing and digging through his sludge. Even while your Stand could make contact with his, it couldn't be said that the situation could be switched around. Your Stand's form was horrifying in itself, but the idea that his Stand with no weaknesses couldn't touch your Stand was just as terrifying. 

Jotaro realized the opportunity he had now. The enemy had even panicked and removed his Stand from Jotaro. He wasn't even paying attention to Jotaro anymore. You knew why. The fear was overwhelming. You are the greater threat at the moment to him. You bore your eyes into Jotaro, telling him to make his move if he wants it. Your Stand was slowly making its way closer and closer to the user with its claws. Just as your Stand was about to make it to the enemy, with him sobbing, Jotaro used his Stand's fist to punch the user and knock him unconscious. Your Ace's Wand stopped mere inches away from The Temperance card holder. Your Stand emitted a sickly wheeze of laughter before being de-manifested. You were still grooving to the song, though.

"This magic music grooves me! That dirty rhythm moves me! The devil's gotten to me through this dance!"

Jotaro was unsure of how to communicate with you. That uncertainty was cleared up, though, when you yourself removed your ear buds and spoke.

"Hey! Jotaro right?" You chuckled, pointing at him. Jotaro nodded, knowing you had caught his name in the fight. "That was pretty cool. We should do that again sometime."

"What?" Is all Jotaro could murmur in confusion as response to your suggestion.

"I'm [Y/N] [L/N]." Your pointing finger turned into an open palm hand to shake Jotaro's. "I'm a Stand user, too. Not like.." You looked down at the unconscious and shirtless man at your feet. "...him, though. I'm cool, like you."

Jotaro hated women who fawned over him. Most of the female students who crowded him referred to him as "cool," as well. Hearing you say it, though, was different. It wasn't of lust or love like those ladies at school. It was of genuine friendship and curiosity.

"That's.. Great." Jotaro said, extending his hand out and shaking yours. "Hey, I have a question…"

"Go ahead and shoot!" You shook his hand and returned yours to your side.

"Could you join us on our mission to Egypt?" Jotaro is well versed in being blunt and very straightforward. Not that you would know that.

You paused and processed what he had said. " "Our...?" Mission..? Egypt!?"

___

E N D.

A/N: AAAA! This has been sitting in my docs for sooo long! I had no idea where to take it and how to end it. Finally figured it out though! Apologies if it seems rushed or half-assed. This one is very similar to the In With A Bang one-shot. Introducing a character in that fashion. Also, In With A Bang has reached over 100 notes!! That's fuckin bonkers! Please go give it a read if you haven't! I promise it's better than this one, lol!

[qianinterprises]

Hold Me Together, Break Me Apart

Pairing | Haechan x gn!Reader

Genre | fluff, angst, roommate au, college au

Warning(s) | bad language, cursing, slamming doors, broken door knobs, broken hearts, reader is mean to Jeno (for a kinda reason)

Synopsis | Your roommate is never far from your mind, especially when you need him to hold you together as you break from the stress of college life. But what happens when you break him by accident.

Author’s Notes | Thank you sweet anon for your request! I had so much fun writing this! I really hope you like it! I may also be posting a part 2, I haven't decided yet. What do you guys think?

Work Count | 2.9K

Tagging | @treasurehobi

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Exhaustion swept across your shoulders as you shoved your key in the tattered lock of your apartment door, wincing when the gears crunched as you turned the key. When the lock clicked, you moved the key back to its resting place before pulling back on it, attempting to free it from the snug hug of the gears. However, it seemed far too content buried deep in the edges of the lock.

With a groan, you turned the jiggly handle and pushed the door open, immediately being bombarded by the sounds of four yelling boys sitting on your couch with remote controls in hand. You had forgotten your roommate was inviting his friends over.

“Donghyuck,” you called, closing the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off at the door and slung your bag into a chair.

Your roommate didn’t answer for a long moment, but when he did, he was distracted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Yeah?”

“My key got stuck again.”

Three times your key had managed to get stuck in the lock. All three times, Donghyuck had been the one to free it.

The male in question sighed as his fingers sped over the keys of the metallic control in his hand.

“I’ll get it out in a minute,” he said.

With a nod, you made your way to your room, seeking escape from the loud yelling of the boys in the next room.

As soon as the door was shut, you let yourself succumb to the emotions attempting to swallow you up. Your knees hit the floor, face buried in your hands as tears wet your fingers. Your shoulders shook slightly as silent sobs wracked through your body.

University was hard enough without the added stress of working, gnawing at your body and soul, pulling you apart piece by piece until your tender bits were exposed for the world to abuse.

College was meant to be fun. A time for parties and drinking. A time of self discovery while also learning more about whatever subject interested you the most. These days, your life was limited to taking four classes throughout the morning, taking an hour for lunch, before reporting to the restaurant across the street where you worked as a wait staff, taking orders and receiving too few tips to add onto your already poor paycheck.

The restaurant had been the only job hiring at the time, and you desperately needed the money. Your family had been supporting you, but when your younger brother dropped out of high school, they began spending too much money taking care of the son they’d ruined by spoiling. Your father could no longer afford paying your half of the apartment rent and, while Donghyuck hadn’t outright said anything of his displeasure, covering both halves of rent for two months, you knew the boy also didn’t make enough to pay the full cost and still be able to go out with his friends. You couldn’t do that to him. So you’d taken the first job that landed in your lap, and here you were, crying on your bedroom floor at 11pm, pondering the idea of dropping out of college all together and moving back home.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts.

“(Y/N), can I come in?”

You quickly ran your fingers under your eyes, wiping away the dampness the tears had left, hoping your eyes were puffy enough to be noticeable. You pulled yourself up off the floor and grabbed your door handle, twisting it and opening the door.

“Yes?”

“I have your key- hey what’s wrong?”

He presented your key between his thumb and index finger, but as soon as his eyes caught sight of your face, he paused.

You felt tears prick to your eyes, but you fought to hold them back. You hated when people asked you questions like that when you were upset. It made holding back the dam of tears that much more difficult.

“Nothing.”

That should have been the end of it, but your voice cracked, and Donghyuck was stepping into your room, wrapping his arms around your middle, and pulling you against his chest. As your face connected with the soft material covering his shoulders, you felt the dam finally give way, a loud sob leaving your mouth as your own ars wound around him, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you bellowed against him.

His arms tightened around you, almost as though he were a bungee strap wrapped tightly around a crumbling box, there to hold it together.

“I’m so tired!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking hard. “I have three papers due by tomorrow night that I haven’t even started because I’ve had to work and when I get home I’m exhausted and I keep pushing it off and now I’m going to fail three classes and-”

You were cut off by his soothing voice, shushing you softly as his hand stroked your back the way he knew you liked.

“It’s going to be ok baby,” he whispered softly.

Your roommate somehow had a weird effect on you. Just by speaking in a certain tone, he could rile you up, make you sleepy, or completely put all your fears and nerves to rest. As you melted against him, allowing him to take the majority of your weight, you didn’t stop to ponder the nickname.

“What classes are your papers due in?” he asked.

His arms around your waist loosened, but neither of you let go.

“Literature with Dr. Wong, Grammar with Dr. Jeon, and History with Dr. Lee.”

“Come with me.”

With that, he pulled away from your hug, leaving you about to whine when he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the room.

“Does anyone have Dr. Lee, Dr. Jeon, or Dr. Wong?” he asked.

“I’ve got Wong,” the tallest of Donghyuck’s friends, you believed his name was Jeno, said.

“Have you finished your paper for his class?”

Jeno nodded.

“Will you come over tomorrow and help (Y/N) write hers?” Donghyuck asked.

“Sure!” Jeno said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I have Dr. Jeon, but I’m not finished with my paper yet. I asked for an extension though and she gave me until Monday. Maybe ask for one too and then we can work on them together,” Donghyuck’s friend with dyed blue hair offered.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, nodding.

“Thank you Jaemin,” Donghyuck beamed.

“I have Dr. Lee, but you know he doesn’t read our papers right? As long as you have the buzz words he’s looking for, he’ll give you a good grade. I can email you my paper and you can just rewrite a few sentences so it isn’t total plagiarism,” the other, tiny friend answered.

Renjun actually happened to be in your class with Dr. Lee. You didn’t know why you hadn’t realized before.

“Now see! All you have to do is ask for help when you need it,” Donghyuck said, squeezing your hand softly before letting it go.

“Now, I have to get back to beating these losers’ asses, but there’s pizza in the fridge if you're hungry!”

Donghyuck leapt onto the couch, settling himself between Jeno and Renjun, retrieving his controller. Then they all were gone once again, back in their own world of screaming obscenities at one another as they fought whatever the zombie alien things on the screen were.

With a smile, you felt your body relaxed, muscles now not as tense as you as you made your way into the kitchen to retrieve the pizza he had mentioned.

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When the next morning rolled around, you were hauling yourself out of bed to attend your morning classes, but today, you didn’t feel horrible, like you wanted to crawl back under the blankets and sleep your life away. Perhaps it was the fact that you had the day off. Or maybe it was because your roommate had somehow taken all your worries and frustrations and made them easier to handle.

Like he always did.

Donghyuck was nothing if not reliable. He was always there when you needed him, whether it was getting your key out of an old lock or gluing you back together as you fell apart in his arms. He was always there to ground you. Maybe he could be annoying sometimes, especially when it was three in the morning and he was crawling in bed with you after having a nightmare, or when he’d beg you to make him hot chocolate every day in the winter because he always scorched the milk when he tried. Lee Donghyuck was the perfect person to share your home with. You just wished you could share the rest of your life with him too.

As your last class ended, you pulled your phone from your bookbag to find a notification to join a group chat from Donghyuck. Raising your eyebrow, you accepted, seconds later directed to a chatroom full of memes and video game references.

FullSun00: Finally she’s joined!

JenoJams: Cut her some slack, she’s been in class!

Jaemberry: She should just text in class like we do!

You: Texting in class prohibits learning!

ArtJun: I like this girl!

FullSun00: (Y/N)!! Meet us in the cafeteria!! We’re sitting in one of the back booths!!

You: Uh… Ok? I’ll be there in five.

Donghyuck was always adamant about keeping you away from his friends group chats despite the amount of times Jeno and Jaemin had tried to convince him to add you. Being invited now was a little odd, but odd didn’t fight the smile on your face as you shoved your notebooks into your bookbag and took off for the cafeteria.

When you got there, the cafeteria was full, as it usually was, but you managed to wind yourself around the heaps of students waiting in lines or moving toward their tables. You walked toward the back of the cafeteria where the most popular seats were, cushioned booths that were alway crowded.You scanned the area looking for Donghyuck, but in the end, it was Jaemin’s blueberry hair that led you to them.

“How did you guys manage to get a booth?” you asked, taking off your backpack.

The booths had long seats large enough to fit three or four people on either side, tables stretching long enough to encompass everyone's plates with plenty of room to spare. It’s part of what made them so popular.

Jeno took your backpack from you, passing it across the table to Jaemin who slid it under the booth where it joined the pile pressed against the wall.

“We got here an hour ago. We tend to spend a few hours here. Easier to eat our fill that way,” Jaemin said.

Renjun snorted.

“Jeno and Jaemin are like human vacuum cleaners. It takes many servings before they’re satisfied,” he laughed.

You shook your head, eyes scanning over the table before realizing that someone was missing.

“Where’s Donghyuck?”

“Miss me already?” your roommate's annoying voice spoke from behind you.

You whirled around to find the man in question standing there juggling two cups of soda and two plates filled with food from the pasta bar, which happened to be the most popular bar and incidentally, your favorite.

“I figured you’d be hungry and I know you love your pasta,” he said.

He moved around you, placing both plates and drinks on opposite sides of the tables before sliding in next to Jeno. It was only then that you realized the second plate was for you.

“Donghyuck… you didn’t have to-”

“Hush and sit,” the male said, looking down at his plate.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought the man was blushing. But this was Donghyuck you were talking about, and Donghyuck didn’t get embarrassed or blush.

You sat yourself down by Renjun and lifted your soda to your lips. As soon as it hit your taste buds, you sighed happily. Donghyuck knew you so well. He knew exactly what you’d want to eat and drink. He was perfect. He’d make the perfect boyfriend…

“Hey (Y/N), after lunch, you want to head back to your place to work on that paper? I’m done for the day,” Jeno asked.

You swallowed the noodles you’d just shoveled into your mouth.

“Sure! I’m done too! And the apartment will be quiet because Hyuck has class!” you shot a teasing smirk in Donghyuck’s direction, earning yourself a glare.

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Lunch seemed to fly by and before you knew it, Jaemin was handing you your bookbag as you all grabbed up your plates, ready to relinquish your booth to someone else.

You bid goodbye to Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck, all who were heading to various classes while you and Jeno made your way across the street to your apartment complex.

Stepping inside, your key thankfully didn’t get stuck this time. You tossed your bookbag onto the couch before flopping beside it. You grabbed your laptop off the side table. Jeno took a seat beside you, opening his own laptop.

As soon as the screen to your laptop turned on, you let out a loud yelp as one of your many images of you and Donghyuck together met your eyes, Donghyuck’s sun-kissed face grinning at you through the screen. You typed your password in hastily, but it was too late. Jeno’s face blossomed into a teasing, shit-eating grin that you wanted to slap away.

“So… Donghyuck huh?”

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

Embarrassment made your stomach churn.

“How long?”

There was no hiding it. Jeno had seen your computer screen. While most university girls had images of baby animals or their favorite band as their lock screens, you had your favorite person to stare back at you.

“Since I moved in…” you mumbled.

His eyes widened.

“And you haven’t told him yet?!” he gaped.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“You told me!!”

“No, you found out, there’s a big difference,” you corrected.

“Well are you going to tell him?” Jeno asked.

“Of course not! Why would I tell my roommate that I’ve got a big fat crush on him?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe because he could like you too?”

“Psh, yeah right. Come on, let’s get to work.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No Jeno. I may practically be in love with the man, but why would he ever like me?! He is everything and I’m nothing. He’s the full package with so much to offer some lucky person who steals his heart. I have nothing to offer him but stress and insecurities. So can we please just get to work on this paper and forget about him?!”

You didn’t realize you had tears rolling down your cheeks until Jeno brought his hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the tears softly.

“You’re not nothing. You’re everything,” he whispered.

There was something in his voice. Something that had you drawing closer to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your head buzzed with want, blissfully unaware to the emotions of your heart as Jeno’s lips met yours.

His lips were rough, chapped. They pricked yours almost uncomfortably, but they were warm and moist. It had been so long since you’d had such a moment with anyone. So long since you’d last been kissed that perhaps your judgment was impaired as your lips moved against his.

But all too soon, reality was coming to slap you in the ass. This time, in the form of the apartment door opening and Donghyuck stepping through, a gasp leaving his lips as he caught his best friend and the girl he’d fallen in love with locking lips on his couch.

Your lips quickly separated from Jeno’s at the sound of someone intruding. Your eyes became as wide as saucers when you noticed Donghyuck standing in the threshold of your home.

You shot up from the couch, nearly knocking your computer to the floor.

“Hyuck! I can explain! We-”

“Don’t bother.” His tone was so icy it tore right through your heart.

He slammed the door and stormed off to his room. You jumped as his bedroom door slammed shut with a hard wham that made the walls rattle.

“I-... I…”

More tears pooled in your eyes as your hands began to shake.

“No…” you whispered.

Jeno stood up from the couch and made a move to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you, but you lurched away from him.

“No!” you screamed! “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your breathing was heavy. Anger ripped through your veins. You knew it wasn’t entirely Jeno’s fault, and it wasn’t fair of you to scream at him like it were, but you couldn’t help it. Standing in the wake of a big mistake, you had no other option but to be angry, because how would your roommate ever like you now if he thought you were dating his best friend.

“(Y/N) please-” Jeno began, but you cut him off.

“Was this your plan?! Get me to fall apart so you could put me back together when he walked in?! Do you realize how fucking messed up that is?! I confided in you! I told you how I felt! And you kiss me?! Then he walks in and you try to hug me?! I don’t like you Jeno! Not like I love him! You are not, nor will you ever be, Lee Donghyuck! So just get out!”

You weren’t typically a rude or mean person, but as Jeno looked down before packing up his laptop and scurrying from the room like a puppy with his tail between his legs, you couldn’t help feeling like you’d just lost two great friends.

Maybe today wasn’t a good day after all.