#the first two hours i was running full speed with the hopes that id be able to putter out and go half speed again

[orcelito]

2 hours zoned out catering prep while listening to trigun OST. 5 hours of stress stress stress stress becoming a bundle of nerves winding tighter and tighter and tighter until it begs for a release of Some kind, any kind, anything that would make the constant stream of customers and drinks and noise just STOP-

Then 1 hour, long hour, but calm hour, listening to trigun OST again and dealing with the aftermath. It did wonders for keeping me from biting my own arm off, but it still took. So long. Even with the help of my boss and the manager coming back from her catering thing, it still took about 20 mins over the hour (1 hr 20 mins when it usually takes 30 ish mins)

This was not a good day for me.

[lesbianloml]

my babysitter au

the first kiss

types of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark (the story will contain all of the above)

pairing(s): milf!dom!dark!wanda maximoff x innocent!sub!immune!witch!fem!reader

warning(s): legal age gap (wanda is 33, reader is 21), obsessive wanda, sorta pervy wanda, maybe?, nothing mostly fluff and plot shit

summary: wanda met you for the first time three days ago. when she runs into you again at the bake sale at the elementary school, she is thrilled. but wanda is overjoyed when the two of you make a deal that will let her see you everyday.

a/n: I know I've been gone FOREVER but I'm back with part 2 of this series. I hope you guys like it, and if you have any ideas or requests, let me know!

you groan as you lean over and press snooze on your alarm. 5am is way too early to wake up, but you need to finish baking and packaging all the treats for the bake sale this afternoon. you sigh, before climbing out of bed and beginning your morning routine. you shower, put on a cute brown mini dress before heading to the café. you sigh as you look around the empty shop, before pulling on an apron and starting your work.

*hours later*

you startle awake at the sound of your phone ringing. you gasp as you check the time. its 3:30pm, the bake sale starts in 30 minutes, and you haven't even begun to load everything up and set up your table. you check the caller id. dottie. you sigh heavily before answering the call. "hello?" you ask, your voice sugary sweet. "y/n y/l/n! where in the world are you? you were supposed to be here an hour ago to help set up! you're 21 years old, you should be more responsible than this!" as dottie rambles on and on, you sigh. "dottie? give me 5 minutes, I'm on my way." you hang up, ignoring her protests as you quickly load your car with the wrapped treats from the bakery, all made by you.

you speed down the road, and quickly turn into the almost full school parking lot. you scramble out of your car and as you close your door, you turn to be face to face with wanda. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your expression. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale right?" wanda asks, looking at you with a look you're unable to read. "yup thats what im here for." wanda turns quickly as two boys come speeding around the parking lot. "billy, tommy! come here. I have someone i want you to meet." you gasp as the boys come speeding past you, a silver blue blur before coming to a halt in front of you.

"y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." you smile, looking at them both kindly. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "I am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. strangely formal for a 10 year old, but you don't question it. for the next 15 minutes, you spend with the boys, laughing and giggling at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. it gets done much quicker with the maximoff's help then it's would've if you had done it alone.

you smile at the sight of your booth, ready just in time as all the parents and children begin filing in. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." you say, gesturing to the variety of sweet treats you have set out on your table. tommy immediately goes for a huge triple chocolate cookie. you laugh, sharing a shy glance with wanda. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise, your eyes drifting to places they shouldn't.

"y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" you turn your attention to her for a moment before beginning to serve the customers in front of you. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" dottie approaches the table, eyes on wanda to drag her off somewhere. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while" you say, flashing her a sweet smile. you continue serving the lengthy growing line in front of you, your attention drifting back to where it needs to be.

wanda's jaw drops as she sees you in your car speeding around the corner. wanda walks swiftly over to your car, standing behind your car door. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your face expression. just you saying her name in your pretty little voice, it slipping out your plump lips. it makes her want to bend you over right here and make you scream it. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale aren't you?" she mentally curses herself. what a stupid question, of course that's what you're here for. she feels like an idiot, but you don't even seem to notice. "yup, that's what i'm here for!" wanda hears tommy and billy giggling, and she wants you to meet her sons more than anything in that moment. if her plan works, soon you and her sons were going to be well acquainted.

"billy, tommy! come here, i have someone i want you to meet." wanda smiles when you gasp as the boys come speeding past you in a silver blue blur. "y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." wanda watches as you smile widely, then give them a teasing look. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "i am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. wanda chuckles softly at billy. so formal, so sweet. for the next 15 minutes, wanda and her boys spend time with you, laughing and giggling together at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. wanda is thrilled at how well you, billy, and tommy are getting along. you guys almost seem best friends already.

wanda watches you smile at the booth setup, happy that you like it. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." wanda's smile widens as tommy immediately goes for the huge triple chocolate cookie. he's so predictable. you laugh, and wanda shares a glance with you. you're so shy, so beautiful it makes her want to scream. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. utterly predictable. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. it is incredible. she's almost shocked. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" wanda asks, her voice filled with wonder. you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval.

how cute. wanda knew you would be the perfect wife for her. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. she knows what she's doing as a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise. she watches your eyes drift to the places she wants them to be glued to the most. "can i talk to you after the bake sale?" wanda asks, but notices your attention trailing. "y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" your attention is on her for a moment before you begin to serve the customers in front of you. you're so sweet. wanda thinks so many dirty thoughts about you, that she wants to say to you now. she restrains herself, not wanting to scare you away. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" wanda almost lets out a groan of dread when dottie approaches the table, her predatory gaze fixed. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while!" as dottie drags wanda away, wanda's gaze is fixed on you the entire time, hearts in her eyes.

after the bake sale, you and wanda meet up in the parking lot. the boys are konked out in the back of wanda's suv, their sugar high short lived. "what did you want to talk about wanda?" you ask, shivering as the fall chill falls over you. wanda immediately removes her jacket, offering it to you. "here detka. wouldn't want you to be chilly." wanda waits for you to slip it on before speaking again. "i wanted to offer you a job. i've found a job downtown, and I was just wondering if you'd like to start babysitting billy and tommy during the week or whenever I need it. my job requires a lot of travel. and of course, I would pay you double what you make right now at the café.." wanda rambles, but her breath catches as you lay a sweet hand on her arm. "oh wanda, I would love to! I already feel so close with billy and tommy, like I've known them for years. maybe we could meet up sometime over coffee and talk some more? i'm sure you're eager to head home." you say, nodding to the boys sleeping in the back of wanda's car.

wanda nods. "of course. that would be perfect, sweetheart. here, ill put my number in your phone. ill text you, okay?" you smile, handing wanda your phone. wanda enters her number, and hands your phone back to you. you stand there for a moment, your thoughts conflicting. you make up your mind, and quickly lay a light kiss on wanda's cheek before walking to your car. you will never know how that single kiss rocked wanda's world, and how it would soon lead to yours being turned upside down.

remember, asks and requests are open! i love to hear from you guys! <3

[gezelligs-world]

I Hope I Never Lose You

(Bada lee x Fem!Reader)

"When will you arrive?!" Bada said whining through the phone. I laugh while opening the car door.

"Calm your ass down sweet face, I'm on my way." I said and hung up the phone. I turned my engine on and went ahead.

"The traffic is worse than yesterday..." I mumbled while staring ahead. I was about to forward my car when I heard a couple of beeps behind me.

"Miss! Turn your car!" Before I even do what the stranger said, I see a car going towards me at full speed. I feel the glass from the windows fly at me and saw several people running to the scene before I black out.

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"Why is she not here yet?" Bada muttered but enough for her make up artist to her it.

"Your girlfriend is not here yet?" Bada nodded with a little pout on her lips.

"She said she will be here an hour ago, it's just a 30 minute drive from our apartment." The make-up artist nodded in understanding.

"Maybe there's traffic, hm?" She said trying to enlighten the mood of the dancer.

"I hope so..."

"Dancers! Please gather at the set! Filming will start soon!" Bada sighed and stood up. She tried to be understanding and maybe you will not make it because of personal problems. She stretches her arms one more time before going outside the make-up room.

The make-up is starting to pack some of the make-up that are needed for retouching when she hears Bada's phone ringing. She was about to go outside the room to inform Bada but she heard the song playing meaning the filming is already starting. The make-up artist had no choice but to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, yes, is this Bada?" A male voice is heard. The make-up artist looked at the caller ID and saw that it's an unknown number.

"This is not her, she's busy. May I know your intentions?"

"There happened to be a car crash here and the victim's first emergency contact is Ms. Bada. I just want to inform her about what happened to- I suppose her girlfriend. This is her in-charged doctor speaking." Speechless is an understatement at what the make-up artist is feeling. Should she tell Bada? But Bada may feel overwhelmed...

Before she could reply, the phone got snatched. She turned around and saw that it was one of the directors of the set.

"We will inform Ms. Bada right away." The director then hung up the phone.

"Don't tell this to Bada-sshi, got it?" The director said with a warning and commanding voice.

"But PD-nim-" The director glared at her and went out leaving the make-up artist with mixed thoughts.

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"Congratulations everyone! We're done!" The director said as the dangers clap their hands except for the main dancer, Bada.

"Why is Bada looked so down today?" Mina Young said while analyzing Bada.

"I heard that Y/n didn't get to visit her today." Funky said and Mina gasp dramatically.

"That must hurt so bad!" Mina said.

Bada heard the conversation between the two leaders but she just didn't care about any of it at all.

"She promised..." Bada whispered while going back to the make-up room. She opened her phone and saw a lot of missed calls and texts from an unknown number. She opened the messages and almost dropped her phone when she saw the content. Bada grabbed her bag and went running to the exit, not caring about the director calling her or even her still being in her costume.

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She arrived at the hospital and went to the reception desk panting.

"Can you tell me where Ms. Y/n is?" She said breathlessly. The nurse goes through several papers making Bada more impatient.

"Bed 208." The nurse said and Bada immediately went to the direction where it is. She saw multiple people injured in the head, knees, and arms. She saw police officers questioning one of the people which she's guessing was one of the people involved in the accident. Bada kept looking back and forth finding a specific face until her eyes landed on an unconscious figure and a tube in her mouth, and a stable heartbeat that are heard through the monitor.

"Y/n..." Bada slowly approached her significant other and kneel down beside her bed. She grabbed her lover's hand and cupped it on her face. Bada is known to have controlled emotions but her tears are already falling.

"Ms. Bada?" She heard someone talk behind her. She wiped her tears and turned around. She stood and bowed lightly when she saw that it was the doctor.

"Yes, that's me." She said trying not to let out a cracked voice.

"May I know your relationship with Ms. Y/n before I get to tell you her condition?"

"Fiancé." Bada answered.

"Ms. Y/n suffered a lot of scratches on her left arm that is broken due to the force of the hit and since the direction of the car is moving towards the driver seat, she is in worse condition than the other victims involved." Bada bit her lip while looking and looked up again to look at Y/n.

"When will she wake up?" Bada nervously asked.

"My prediction is tomorrow." The doctor answered.

"A nurse will come and monitor her 2 times a day to see how her condition improved." Bada nodded.

"Can you move Y/n into a private room? The most expensive one." The doctor nodded.

"A nurse will send you a form to sign and Ms. Y/n will be transferred immediately." Bada thanked the doctor. She sat down on her lover's bed while caressing her hand.

"I hope I never lose you." Bada said and kissed Y/n's knuckles. A nurse approaches Bada to sign a form for Y/n's transfer, Bada signed it and Y/n is transferred to a private room.

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"Unnie, I heard what happened to Y/n unnie..." CheChe sadly said at Bada.

"Don't worry, your Y/n unnie is strong." Bada ruffled CheChe's hair.

"Can we visit her soon?" Tatter asked.

"Of course but only limited people may come and visit." Bada's members nodded in understanding.

In the middle of the break during the shooting of the street woman fighter, the hospital informed Bada that Y/n is finally awake. Even though she wants to go to the hospital and keep Y/n in her arms, she has to stay and remain professional, and also because she's the leader of Bebe. But once the shooting is finally finished, she rushes towards the parking lot and drives to the hospital. She ran at Y/n's room and opened it, she saw her significant other staring at her while sitting up.

"Bada..." Y/n smiled, Bada eyes began to be teary when she finally realized that death did not take Y/n from her. Bada rushed towards her and hugged Y/n, careful to not touch her scratches. Y/n let Bada rest her head on her chest as she caressed Bada's hair.

"I almost lost you..." Bada said while sniffing.

"You did not. I'm alive, see?" Y/n grabbed Bada's hands and cupped it on her face.

"You cannot die yet, I haven't got to marry you yet." Bada said and Y/n nodded in agreement.

"That's right..." They hugged each again and Bada whispered something at Y/n's ear.

"I almost lost you, I'm not gonna let that happen again." Bada kissed Y/n under her eyes and caressed her head, rocking their figures side by side.

[athenaseden]

its like an hour late but i had things i really wanted to add. this is my gift exchange for @roobroker . please enjoy. ( @abbottgiftexchange ) i hope this formats right ....

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Janine has an appointment after school and has asked if Barbara could pick her son up and watch them for an hour or two. Barbara had agreed with ease having missed Caleb since seeing him a month ago. As soon as bus duty was over, the woman kissed Melissa a quick goodbye and reminded her to keep her updated on the parent teacher conference. Barbara knew exactly what daycare Janine put Caleb in, aside from having picked him up before she was the one who suggested it in the first place. The trip was a little more than 10 minutes due to afterschool traffic and while she hated driving into school traffic, it was worth it to see Caleb. Making sure to grab her ID after arriving, she made her way in the front door. In the front office sits a few kids, maybe two years old. A gentleman sets one of them down on a playing mat after seeing her, “Afternoon, who are you here for?”

Barbara smiles at him, “Caleb Teagues, please.” He nods and repeats the name into a walkie, “Send Caleb Teagues to the front for pick up.” Waiting for a reply before he turns back to her, “Don’t forget to sign him out when he arrives.” He then goes back to the play mat to clean up. Barbara steps away from the door and waits leaning her back on the wall. She can hear him coming by the running feet approaching and the “Auntie! Auntie!” His mother clearly told him who was picking him up today. When he makes it to the doorway he stops and just yells, “Auntie!” again. 

“Hey, baby.” She calls back and he is back in motion again. Only barely not slamming into her knees, still she grabs the wall to keep herself up. He doesn’t let go immediately and her heart swells a little because of it. She gets to see Caleb more often than her grandkids and being with her makes her miss them every so often. He finally lets go and she leans down to squeeze his shoulder, “Let’s get to the car first, then you can tell Auntie everything okay?” He nods showing his missing teeth with joy. Quickly as she can, she signs him out and checks her phone. The parents for the conference tonight arrived just after she left, Melissa would be done with her meeting much quicker than either expected. 

Finally ready to leave the building she extends her hand for the little Teagues to take and pushes open the door. As she walks, she can feel his little skips in his stride. “Your Auntie Melissa bought you ice cream last night.” Barbara waits for the incoming squeal before she continues. “We have to go pick her up first.” He nods and kicks into a full skip as they round the car. “Why she didn’t come with you?” She unlocks the car and helps him out of his backpack, correcting his sentence before she answers, “Why didn’t she come with me?” Caleb just nods, stepping into the car and plopping into his seat. She misses when he was small enough for her to pick up. It wasn’t that long ago, the precious boy being small like his mother. 

Barbara buckles the boy into his car seat while answering, “She is with someone’s parents. That’s why we have to pick her up.” Swinging his feet and nodding his head, “Okay, yay!” She chuckles and shuts the door back at him. Once she gets in the front seat, he begins to talk about his day. At his speed, she understands some things, like they had applesauce with lunch and colorful spotted cookies for a snack which she tells him were M&M cookies. By the time they have arrived at Abbott he has started talking about his blankets and toys with great detail. 

She parks up front in the half empty lot in front of the school. Picking up her phone she sees the text from Melissa that the meeting is over and just to text her when they arrived. Unbuckling, she turns in her seat, “Caleb, smile for Auntie.” With pride he cheeses at her phone and blinks at the flash as she takes the picture. Although his eyes are closed the picture is too cute not to send. Texting Melissa afterwards, ‘Waiting for you out front.’ From the back seat, playing with his lanyard Caleb asks, “What kind of ice cream?” Thinking for a moment, she can’t seem to remember what ice cream Melissa bought, seeing the bag, or the receipt. Rather than admitting she doesn’t know, she lays the responsibility on Melissa, “You’ll have to ask Mel when she gets in.” 

The two sit there talking mostly about Caleb and his toys or classmates until Caleb spots the red head coming their way. He bounces in his car seat, points, and laughs happily. Melissa is walking their way, hair over one shoulder and her large black bag over the other. Barbara points behind her as Melissa gets closer, directing her attention to the beaming child behind her. Opening the front door, only to set her back down and open the back down and lean in to tickle Caleb. “Hey, big boy!” He giggles and tries to tickle her back, although his hands are on her shoulders rather than her stomach. Chuckling at him, she pulls away, “Let me see that smile.” 

Grinning wide for Melissa, he still tries to talk, “see my ‘issing eeth?” Melissa nods and starts counting, “Missing three! Your big boy teeth will be coming in soon.” Dropping his smile and looking at her questioningly, “But I am a big boy already.” Barbara has to laugh from the front seat, “Yes, but you will get much big, baby.” Seeming to be the answer he needs, he simply says, “Okay.” Lightly squeezing his cheek, Melissa steps back and shuts the door before getting in the car. Behind her, Caleb is feeling for his missing teeth, “Finger out of your mouth, hun.” 

Sitting down comfortably, Melissa leans over the console and kisses Barbara who briefly asks about the meeting again. “It was good. Mostly a progress check from the last meeting.” Barbara nods and kisses her one last time before Melissa can move back to her seat. While buckling, Caleb’s voice fills the car again, “What ice cream ‘d you get me, Auntie Messa?” Turning to her wife with a raised eyebrow, Melissa mouths, “I’m gonna get you.” seeing as her ice cream is being offered up to her favorite nephew she’s not actually all that mad. Looking in the mirror to talk to him, “We have vanilla bean and cookies ‘n cream.” Avoiding listing the one she’s most protective of. 

Barbara is pulling out as more questions come from their back seat, “What color is vanilla bean?”

“White, I guess, hun.”

“But it’s a bean. Beans are gween.”

“Not that type of bean, sweet boy.”

“So it’s sweet?”

“Yes. Very.”

“What kinda cookies are in the ice cream?”

“Oreo cookies.”

“The black crackers?”

“Yes, with the white cream in the middle.”

Similar questions follow them all the way home, even all the way inside until the ice creams are set in front of him. The vanilla bean is in a black container while the cookies n cream is in a yellow one, so he chooses the brighter one. Grabbing three spoons as Melissa scoops out one bowl of cookies n cream and two vanilla bean, Caleb stands politely waiting to help her. Putting one spoon in each bowl and hand one to him, “Hold it with both hands.” Caleb nods and walks with both hands on the bowl, putting it on the table first and then climbing into his favorite chair at the dining table. Barbara joins them not too long after. As they eat their ice cream, Caleb tells Melissa many of the same things Barbara has heard in the car. This time he adds details, like how he has a TRex stuff and a plastic velociraptor which takes them three times to understand, his blue cubby at school and his new light up shoes. 

Melissa and Barbara sit side by side, holding hands and listening intently, catching up on months worth of events. They only cut him off once he has finished his ice cream. “Let’s clean this up.” Barbara stands taking their bowls and walking to the drain with them. Caleb hops off of his seat and walks over to the dishwasher pulling it open. He waits beside her to help her load them. Though Barbara doesn’t often use the dishwasher, she won’t deny that him offering to help makes her proud. “Such good manners.” 

Barbara rinses the bowls and spoons and passes them to him who sets them a little sloppily in the bottom rack. While she dries her hand, she gives him instructions on the correct way to place them in the rack. When he is done, she still bends down to adjust a few things. Melissa stands against the door nodding her head, “Nice job. Very good, honey. Want to play a game?” Running to her legs the same as he had Barbara’s at the daycare, “What game?” Arms locked around her knees, she clutches the wall and looks up at Barbara for help. “Think you can be Auntie Mel at Connect 4 now?” Leaning back now, using her legs as a pivot, “I think so!” Melissa groans a little in pain and leans down the same time as Barbara to pull him free, nearly butting heads. “You’ve got to let go so I can get the game. Then we’ll see if you can beat me.”

For the next hour, Melissa sits on the floor with Caleb reteaching him how to play Connect 4 and enjoying watching how excited he got even when he lost. Barbara sits on the couch behind Caleb trying her best to help him and throws Melissa a pillow to hopefully help relieve what will most certainly be a painful back later. Once Barbara receives the message that Janine is headed their way, she announces it as their last game. Both on the floor pouting, “Last game, then you can clean up and come cuddle with me before your mom gets here.” Melissa’s pout disappears and she leans over their game to whisper, “Last game, loser has to tickle Barbara.” Caleb giggles and reaches out to Melissa, “I win, I tickle you.” The red head laughs and shakes her head, not finding it in her to correct him. He loses again, proudly. They clean up with Melissa poking at him and him giggling and returning to the poke. Barbara takes the box from them once it is done to put it up. Melissa does her best to get off the floor and on the couch.

Barely having sat down, Caleb jumps in her lap and begins to tickle her. “I win. I got you.” She laughs and grabs his hand, “No, honey. I won. I’ve got you.” before attacking him with tickles. When Barbara returns, she watches for just a second before bending over the couch and joining in. For the first time in months their home is filled with the laughter of a child for an extended period of time. 

[lustbile]

The Journal

TenxReader

Word Count: 7.3k+

Summary/Warnings: Smut with plot, semi public, a lot of biting, mentions of supernatural and just general weirdness, and small amount of blood play

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist (can be read alone or within the series, but unlike others it might just be the slightest amount confusing)

“So that’s what you’re into now,” your best friend’s voice is bored and distant, her task of wiping down the bar that stretched out in front of her taking a majority of her attention away from the babbling you’ve tried to subject her to since you entered the empty restaurant only about 20 minutes before, “weird demon sex clubs?”

—

—

“Ah ah, I never said they were demons,” you correct quickly, the thought of defending yourself never crossing your mind as you petulantly slap your hands against the polished wood, “I just said it was…. weird.”

“Weird is an understatement,” she scoffs quietly as she turns to dip her dirtied rag back into the bleach water and ring it out, “I mean look, I’ve always been supportive in the witchy stuff you’ve been into but this…. is a bit much.”

“I don’t see how this is any different than any other thing I’ve read into.”

“Oh you don’t see?” you finally manage to pull her attention towards you as she harshly slaps the rag back onto the wood with a stern glare pulled on her pretty features, “you’re talking about vulnerability and abandoned warehouses and public sex. That last one is definitely new.”

You fully expected this type of response, only hoping she’d be busy enough that you would dodge the motherly scolding she liked to give you when you pitched your schemes to her with your eyes wild and wide, but nevertheless, she was completely right.

It came from an old book, tattered and torn from being flipped through one too many times, that you found at your favorite antique store. The store itself was already notorious with your tight inner circle of friends as the creepy shop that was corrupting your brain, a constant taunt being that the little old woman that ran it was the actual devil and she was just waiting for the right time to jump you and eat you whole, but this did nothing to stop you from visiting at least once a week.

But the book, it was different from any other you had found. It was completely handwritten, including amazingly done sketches in a deep unfading ink, and spoke of outlandish things.

Some were easily brushed off, like a murder that happened in the 50’s that was known to stay in the mouths of the older folks, both to them and the book it was widely believed to be the doing of some long tongued and wild eyed creature, until a local sweet old man admitted on his deathbed that it was instead his one crime of passion.

He had been a young soldier that snuck into his lover’s room one night, and upon learning that she was to marry a nice lawyer the day after he was meant to deploy, his mind went blank and his hands were carving out her heart. He luckily escaped any questioning after being shipped off, and once he returned home he captured the heart of a pretty young girl and lived out a long life sitting on top of a horrid truth.

So yeah, stories of those sorts, having been solved in your lifetime, meant very little to you, but the one you were going on about now, meant the world.

The writing looked like it had been put down by a panicked chicken rather than the woman who’s name was written neatly in the front. It lived in some of the pages towards the back of the small book and spoke of a dark club. Club X.

She went on and on about stumbling across the club purely by accident, and meeting another woman with glittering eyes. Graphic details of being taken in the middle of the dance floor with a million eyes looking but not fully seeing her as she fell apart against a dancing and eager tongue made your heart thump lodged in your throat. But the more and more she visited the club, the more incoherent her words became, but towards the end the writing had become stained and obscured by a deep brown stain, before it stopped altogether.

Thankfully, the details of where the building was was completely visible regardless of being the thoughts of a mad woman, and with a lot of thinking and staring at the town map, you’ve come to believe that you knew exactly where the mysterious club stood.

Only a street down from the restaurant you sit in now.

“Listen, I know it sounds ridiculous, and it probably is, but what’s the problem with just going to check right?” you scramble to pull the delicate book from the bag that sits in the stool beside you as your friend moves closer and closer to where you sit, laying it flat to show her the page you’ve had bookmarked since you read it, “and look at the name she puts, I think it’s the man who ran it and it’s a long shot, but maybe he’s still alive, or if not maybe some family is! Right here, Asm-“

“Don’t say it again,” she’s quick to interrupt, sliding her free hand to hover above the page you’ve glued your eyes to, “I don’t wanna hear any old man names, especially that one it gives me the ick.”

“It’s just a name,” murmur to yourself, but move to put the book away regardless, “but anyways, I have something that most people who were going to the club didn’t, knowledge of what exactly I’m walking into. I can just go and look around, worst things worst its still a freaky sex club and I just go home, but I’m willing to bet this lady was just off the shits and its just an empty building with some funky vintage beer bottles that you can add to your collection.”

You feel like you’ve won an award you weren’t even trying to compete for when she finally breaks out into a soft smile. The huff that leaves her chest is endeared, and you swear your heart began to vibrate when she reached to run a gentle thumb across the swell from your cheekbone.

“Fine, do what you want, but if the bottle isn’t completely intact when you find it I don’t want it.”

“So you’re not coming with me?” your head tilts to the side in confusion as with things of this nature in the past, she’s always followed along to ensure that you didn’t do anything to stupid. You never felt like the company was fully necessary, but it was appreciated regardless.

“Baby, as much as I’ve enjoyed your info dumping you’ve done tonight, the other person that was meant to clean with me had to leave early with a stomach bug so I’m busy pulling a clean up job that’s truly a job for about five people. But you seem to really believe in this little adventure of yours,” she leaves the rag in a damp mass next to the stack of dirty glasses beside you to take your hands in her’s, her slightly wrinkled fingers are still warm and the way they lace with yours makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you, “besides, you’re as smart as a whip and I know you have me on speed dial. I trust you.”

——

You no longer love the feeling of being trusted.

When your friend had given you the heartfelt speech only a little over half an hour ago, you felt like you had been put on a nice pedestal before she handed you a cookie with a pat on the head.

Now the “cookie” had turned to rot in your belly and you were faced with your own perfectly dreamed up reality.

It was already late by the time you had walked into the restaurant your friend works at, the sun already setting and the last few customers gathering their things and paying the bills, so once you got her stamp of approval and we’re heading out the door, the only light left was a bright and full moon, and flickering street lights.

You took your time walking in the direction that your book and personal sleuthing had pointed you in, the closer and closer you got to the one warehouse in town that seemed to never be bought back from the city, the knots in your belly pulled tighter and tighter.

But regardless of the almost painful twist in your gut, you surprisingly almost missed the building in its entirety.

It was as if your entire being blocked out the thumping bass that shook the sidewalk and the blinding red light that spilled from beneath the entrance and out the fractured windows. Your brain trying to force itself from entering the building you spent so many weeks trying to locate.

But the way your heart thuds in your chest when you stand in front of the entrance is something you couldn't even pretend you didn’t feel.

Your tongue digs into the side of your jaw, and you're confused at the feeling of warm tears burning at your waterlines. It’s exactly the way the owner of the journal described it in her manic writings, weirdly exact considering the other stories that surrounded it that dated it back far before you were even born.

You want to go in, the shaking steps your legs take is evident to that, but the tense muscles of your shoulders and stomach makes you hesitate and even grumble out into the air.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a shuffling to your side, your throat tensing when you look over, and are put slightly at ease when you see two men who you assume are acting as some type of security. You almost expect them to look up and ask you for some type of ID when you’re being very weird and blatant about your presence, but they seem too preoccupied with the dim screens of their phones and the way they lean forward at different times as if they’re waiting for someone.

Your hands are shaking slightly as they scramble down to grab for your bag, desperately looking for something to occupy you to walk by them without being even more weird, and when your fingers wrap around the flaking leather that binds the book, you grab it like a lifeline.

Your fingers flip through the pages with perfect muscle memory as you trip up the few steps that lead to the door, the tabs you carefully placed on the first page mentioning the club not even necessary with the way you could find the page even in your sleep.

You subconsciously hold your breath when you walk past the two men, almost as if the book is instead something wildly illegal and you're trying to sneak past your parents, and your washed with a temporary wave of relief when you pass through the doors without even a glance from the two.

Though the relief is stolen from your bones the second your feet touch the floor of the club.

It’s as if you’ve entered a place you’ve known your whole life, and from the amazing descriptions from the woman in the past, its not a completely surprising feeling.

But another part of you feels like this is the first time you’ve seen human beings in the flesh.

You can't help but to feel like you must look like an absolute nerd as you pull the book up to your face as you start to survey the club, but thankfully the book told at least one truth, and many of the club goers are too busy grouping and grinding against one another to even acknowledge your existence.

More truths come to light as you flick your eyes between the pages and the walls.

The bar is still tucked in the same far corner as she described, the flittering red and blue lights making it feel like a beacon of calm regardless of it being surrounded by drunken forms and its intimidatingly pretty bartender.

The dj is just a stoic and unimpressed looking as the one from so many years ago as he subconsciously bobs to the beat that he creates as he messes with the nobs and switches in front of him. He’s actually so similar, you wonder if you were right and the owner did have family floating around, and maybe the dj is one of them.

You stumble further into the room as you pick out small details she wrote about so lovingly. Your legs carry you to the back of the building as you smile at the sight of the wine stain the writer claimed to have created when her lover shocked her with a playful bite to the neck.

You almost feel like the universe is gifting you everything you could have possibly asked for when you see the loose board that she said a friend of hers would always trip over, and electricity zips up your spine in excitement when you spots the large painting that still hangs over the booth she claimed as her favorite, and she meticulously sketched out next to a paragraph about what she thought the artist was feeling.

All these things though, lead to the things that make your jaw hang slightly open.

The large balcony above you is larger than you ever imagined. The hundreds of bright red carnations she loved to sketch drip from the golden bars like water, and the black velvet curtains that hang over the room it leads to look heavy enough that they suffocate someone if they fell.

She seemed so intensely in love with the place you stand in, and the woman she met there, and those emotions were more than evident from the way the recreated the energy of the club with her words and art. Which only tips you towards the part that caught your attention perhaps the most.

It was exactly where it was meant to be. Just below the balcony that hangs high on the wall, gaping wide and dark like the mouth of a hungry monster coaxing you to enter its throat. The only issue that you can see being the hanging rope that blocks you from entering, but with only shining bright clasps holding it onto hooks on the walls, you don’t think you're above sneaking past it with little guilt.

The hall was the one thing that taunted you the most about the story the woman spun in the little worn book. The empty and dark vass space being something that coaxed her as well, but unfortunately for you, and maybe her as well, the parts of her journal that began the tale of her passing the temping rope, was the exact spot that was stained with bleeding ink and a suspicious brown color.

You survey the space around you, looking for anyone that could possibly be a worker or just a stickler for the rules, but seeing as everyone in your range of vision was attached by the mouth on someone’s neck or sloppy lips, you figured you were in the clear.

You drop the book gently back into your bag before you step slowly forward. Your heart feels like a wild animal trying to break out of the cavity of your chest, and it feels like your intestines have been successfully replaced with writhing worms that are desperately trying to reach your gut. You feel heat traveling up your chest and neck, and as you get within a few feet of what feels like the end of your life, your body begins to shake.

If you had the ability, you would have screamed, and if you had the strength, you would have fought back. But right when you're about to reach the threshold of the hall, and right when you feel like your legs are about to collapse from underneath you, strong fingers clasp over your trembling mouth, and an arm wraps tightly around your waist.

You’re turned faster than you can blink, the sudden motion making your brain swirl in your skull and making you go lightheaded and dizzy. And while keeping their hand clasped tightly over your mouth, the person that cages you in slams your back into the cold wall and knocks the air from your lungs.

The eyes that meet you are cat-like and dancing wildly, the grin the man you're faced with now smiles at you wickedly, and when your hands dart up until your nails dig harshly into the skin of his forearms, his smile only widens.

“Now,” he starts, the remains of a chuckle shaking his chest and his words slightly, “what exactly are you up to?”

You wait for a moment for him to release you from his hold, and when after a minute or so he still hasn’t budged, all you can offer in response is an annoyed arched brow.

“What?” he has the audacity to ask with taunting sincerity, “you thought you were smart enough to go wandering around, so you should be smart enough to figure out a way to talk around my hand right?”

It’s with immense irritation that you realize the two possibilities you’re faced with.

From the book you know about the weird concept of soul mates or whatever they were meant to be. The woman and the mysterious dancing girl she met so many years ago, and similar stories from the friends she met during her many visits to the club who had almost identical tales that she had to recount.

So with that information you know the possibility of this grinning man being your person is high, but your person or not, he was lighting a fire in your chest regardless.

You don’t think or even weigh the negatives before you send him a hard glare, and you show very little hesitation when you push forward to sink your teeth into the first finger you can catch.

His yelp is covered by the blaring music, but you hear it loud and clear before he reaches his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose to pull you off like a rabid kitten.

“You know what I’m up to,” you huff petulantly as you lean back into the wall with your arms folding over your chest, “or at least I’d assume you’d be smart enough to use your context clues right?”

His lip curls when he glances back up to you as he pets at his now bruising finger, but even with the thin veil of irritation on his pretty features, you can tell he enjoys the sarcastic tone you’ve adopted.

“Yeah you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he bites back as he steps closer, crowding your personal space and pushing his chest tightly against yours, “you’re lucky I’m who caught you and not boss man.”

“Boss man?” you ask, trying not to show you excitement over him spilling the treasured information about the club that you want so desperately.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, and the sly wink he throws at you shocks you more than you would like to admit, but when he tilts his head back quickly you don’t hesitate to follow his line of sight to the edge of the balcony.

If it weren’t for the thin wires of light that create hatching over his eyes and mouth, you probably would have missed the masked figure that leers at you from over the railing. His hands and shoulders are covered by the masses of flowers, and the hollow black where he hides his eyes stares down at you two with a look that you assume is annoyance and possible curiosity.

The moment you two look up, the figure jerks back. Your eyes flick quickly between him and the man in front of you, and from the bratty grin he wears as he looks up, you feel as if the masked man didn’t have any intention at being caught.

You get lost slightly in staring at the man pressed against you, his teeth that look sharper in the red lighting and his eyes twinkle in mischief, and even with the obnoxious start to your interaction, you’d be lying to say you don’t find him beautiful.

It takes you a second to regain your senses, tearing your eyes away from the fascinating side profile of the man, but when you glance back up to the balcony, the mask man has retreated back.

“He doesn’t like much when we take people back there before they’re ready,” he attempts at an explanation as he turns back to you, and seems unfazed when he misses the mark and just confuses you further, “he let the two goons outside have a little exception, but that's because they don’t know how to go easy y‘know.”

“No,” you shake your head at him with a quiet scoff, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know more than you think,” his voice drops as he speaks now, and as he speaks he reaches out his hand to hold himself propped against the wall next to your head while his other hand moves to run gently up the side of your neck, “I mean, you know who I am at least right?”

“I have an idea,” you admit with a huff, but you also admit to yourself that this probably means you won't be getting into the hall. You do mentally jot that down as a loss, but decide to take the man pressed against you as a win and you reach to grab at his shirt in retaliation, “but you could at least give me a name to work with.”

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to be one for such formalities,” his head tilts in amusement at his own words, and the action nudges the tip of his nose into yours and makes your heart flutter up into your throat, “but you might as well know the name of the man you’ll be destined to fall in love with.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to start to ache, and he quietly laughs and moves to press his nose into the soft flesh of your cheek as he feeds off your annoyance.

“Ten,” he answers quietly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he moves to whisper the syllable in your ear, and you never thought that with just one word he’d have a shiver rushing up your spine.

You respond quietly with your name, but the word comes out strained and rushed when he begins to nibble on the lobe of your ear and pushes his knee harshly between your thighs.

Both your hands now hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt, and when his lips move to trail against the side of your neck that isn't enveloped by his hand, you tug roughly at the fabric and your back arches slightly away from the wall.

His tongue is hot when he lays it flat on the center of your throat, and when he swipes it up until it flicks against the end of your chin, you can't help but cringe slightly at the feeling regardless of the way it makes heat pool in between your thighs.

The wicked grin on his face never falters, it only grows wider and more hungry when your eyes meet again, and with his staring so deep that you fear he may be collecting every ounce of your soul, you two have a silent agreement on the unnatural waves of electricity that connect you.

When his lips finally land on yours, it's the roughest and clumsiest kiss you’ve experienced. Both of you fight each other with hungry and eager tongues and the way your teeth gently knock together has your skull rattling in a way that, if you weren’t so hell bent of devouring each other whole, you’d probably have to take a breather.

Your hands reluctantly release the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, and in a desperate attempt to stay occupied, they shoot up the tangle tightly into his hair. You admit, you probably tug harsher on the strands than you probably should, but the groans he pours into your mouth, and the way his hips rock roughly into yours, has you tugging again and again.

He presses you further and further into the wall, and without thinking your hips begin to kick and tilt down until you're grinding harshly and sloppily against his tense thigh.

You let out a quiet whine that's muffled and garbled by his moving at the feeling of him pressing his thumb gently into the dip beneath your jaw, and pressing into your jugular. The sound is followed almost immediately by a small yelp when he latches his teeth to your bottom lip and gives you a stinging bite.

You’re frustrated almost immediately with the lack of friction you can feel from the layers of clothing between you, and now the slight shooting pain from the tensing skin between his teeth, you can feel the impatience in your belly crawling up and invading your chest and throat.

He’s quick to pull away when you retaliate with your own nipping bite to his top lip, your teeth still sinking down when he does and making his sting probably just as much as yours. And when he eyes you as his eyelids droop down into an accusatory squint, you assume he’s not used to getting a taste of his own medicine.

He mutters something to himself about your feistiness, and a sly comment about how he shouldn’t be surprised as he was expecting to get a handful, but he gives you no time to make a snide comment or even question about any of the words, before his fingers are closing firmly but loosely around your neck.

He keeps you rooted in the spot that you stand, the only change in your posture he allows is pulling you slightly away from the wall, just wide enough for him to slink behind you and tug you roughly back into his chest.

“You like poking around into business that isn’t yours?” he asks rhetorically as his free hand reaches around your shoulder to push past the neckline of your shirt, and right as he pressed down the center of your chest and his fingers brush the bottom of your rib cage, his fingers curl and he starts to drag his blunt nails up your sternum as he continues, “need to know and see every single little thing right? So… what’s the harm of being on the other side of it for once?”

“What are you on about?” you as sharply as you try to turn your face towards him the best you can, but his hand tilts under the bottom of your chin until your head is forced to lean on his shoulder and he’s nothing but thrilled at the way it makes you struggle.

“To be seen, or not?” he presses his lips back against the shell of your ear, and the way he whispers roughly makes you shiver again as your thighs press tightly together, “you know what I mean, and you know the answer I want, but its all up to you in the end.”

The electric and slightly humiliating buzz of being seen in a mass of bodies committing the same sins as you was something the woman in the book went on about frequently. She mentioned that there were a few times where she and her lover snuck off to get alone time of course, but the almost blinding pleasure that came from being worshiped by not only one person, but the eyes of an entire room, was addictive. And you wanted just a taste.

You grumble in response, the idea of admitting to the already confident man that you did indeed wanted the same amount of attention as he did made your chest burn even more than it already was, and you’d rather take your chance with his terrifying looking boss than to give him the satisfaction of your verbal confession.

He seems unaffected by your nonverbal confirmation, the way you press into him as his hand wraps around your waist again and creeps down to the button of your shorts, and your own hand grabbing onto the sleeve of his rolled up long sleeve shirt to guide him to undo the clasp or just dip below the waistband, is enough of an answer for him to know.

He chooses to pop the button, and once he has the zipper pulled down enough that he can work with, he begins to shove the worn denim down your hips along with your underwear until they are wrapped around your knees and he can push his fingers roughly between your thighs.

You try to clear the fog that he creates in your mind from his teasing fingers long enough to reach your free hand back to give the same treatment to the dark jeans that wrap tightly around his hips and thighs in a way that had you mentally drooling from the moment you got to get a full look at him, after he ambushed you of course.

You’re not sure how he undid your shorts so quickly without being able to see, but as you fumble and scratch your nails against the sensitive skin of his hip, you give yourself the benefit of the doubt seeing as your trying to work while his middle and ring fingers tease over your entrance and the heel of his hand presses clumsily into your neglected clit.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t give you any benefit of the doubt. He at least has the decency to press his lips across your cheekbone and temple to muffle his quiet laughs, but to make your task even more difficult, his fingers shallowly curl up into you just enough to make you twist and curl.

Once the button of his jeans finally releases, you instinctively let out a huff and sink your shoulders back into his chest as you reach past the fabric to wrap your hand around his stiff length and pull it from the confines until you can press it against his lower belly. And you get just one tally on your side of the boards you’ve created in your mind when his amused laughs devolves into pleased grunts and tilting hips.

“Please,” you start quietly, trying to rock more against the parts of his hand that press against you while running your palm up and down the length of him and smearing him with his own pre come, “I can tell you’re just as impatient as me.”

He swears in your ear, using his hold on you with both hands to shift your hips up and pull you closer before he clears his throat to speak, “well could you imagine, looks like we are a match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you retaliate, digging the heel of your own palm into the skin just below the tip of him to egg him on even further, “but either way, that's the point isn't it?”

“I should have expected you to be just a little bit of a smart ass,” he mutters a half hearted complaint, but he only contradicts his own words when he pushes your hips away enough for you to guide him between your thighs and to glide against the arousal that spilled from your body and his hands spread messy along any available inch of skin.

He thrusts smoothly against your back a few times, bringing his arm down to guide him towards your entrance painfully slow, but when you let out a gravely moan of his name, he cant deny himself for any longer, and he’s sinking into you until your eyes start to gently flutter.

Once he’s seated inside you, his hand tenses slightly tighter around your neck, and when you both start pushing towards each other to meet in the middle of your thrusts, his other hand takes the opportunity to map any inch of you he can reach.

He gropes almost painfully at your chest, traveling over your stomach and up your shirt to dig his fingers into your skin until you swear he’s tattooed his finger prints onto you, all while nipping and lapping at the skin of your jaw and neck.

No one immediately in front of you is watching, they’re all in their own worlds of flesh and saliva, but you can still feel eyes of someone on you. His first and foremost as they burn holes into the side of your skull and glance to watch where you push back against him desperately, but there’s another feeling you get of being seen and studied thats so intense that you’re a little shocked when you chance a glance up and see that whoever the masked person was from earlier wasn’t there at all.

So no, you have no idea who, or what is watching you right now, but you can feel the unusual heat it stirs in you as your body flutters around him as he fucks you sloppily. You feel a deeper relation to the woman that owned the book that still rests in the bag that feel unceremoniously from your shoulder when he first put his hands on you, and you hope that maybe you’ll eventually slip into the life of bliss that she meticulously wrote about and possibly learn what happened that demolished the stories that lived in the back of the journal.

You could feel the pleasure crawling up your spine like a monster out creature, your panting breaths tipping the man that works you over off to this even though you’re sure he was already aware before you were, and you think your legs are back to the edge of collapsing when his creeping fingers dance along the expanse of your stomach to find their place back between your thighs.

Your back stiffens at the first touch of his rolling finger on your clit, and your head tilts even farther back onto his shoulder than he already had it. He doesn’t seem interested in coaxing you to your finish slowly, at a pace that would have mercy on your melting mind and shaking form, but he instead abuses your clit until your whimpering out and stumbling and stepping slightly on his toes.

You feel like you’re waiting out the suspense of a horror film that’s score is too obvious to the incoming jump scare. You tilt your neck in a way that seems normal to him, but in reality your trying to feel the many rings that decorate his fingers with the delicate skin of your throat to test if any of them could possibly be sharp enough to cut you and draw blood. You know what blood means to him, and you know it's something he’ll have to do soon if he truly can feel how close you are to the edge.

You feel like you’re floundering a bit, confused from the possible deviation from the story you’ve committed to memory. Was there any chance in this world that this wasn’t your person?

You push this thought away as soon as your panicked mind can construct it though, because there’s no way the spell that it feels has been placed on you would be there if that was the truth, and your body is heated almost like a furnace, but you suddenly love the idea of being burned by him.

You pull in a gasping breath of air that pierces through the music and grunting that rattles in your ears, the taste of your orgasms dancing on the back of your tongue and your back arching so harshly you fear that one of your muscles might seize up and cramp. And right when you feel his hips start to stutter in tandem with yours, and when you’re only seconds from blabbering out mixed syllables that you could only hope would come out as a coherent question, you feel it.

His teeth latch onto you again, his canines not sharp enough to make a clean cut as they dig into the muscle of your shoulder, but his determination is strong enough.

It burns painfully, and makes hot tears well up in your eyes, but almost embarrassingly, is the exact thing that pushes you scrambling over the edge.

You feel like it hurts to breathe, your lungs so focused on letting out puffs of air and broken moans that they can't seem to remember how to bring oxygen in, and your eyes roll for a completely new reason for the man and much more painfully.

It’s when you feel him start to suck the rushing blood from your newly christened wound that you also feel the rumble of his groans against your skin and feel him start to come inside of you. His fist tightens again around your neck as he pushes aftershocks through your nerves with his own orgasm, and with flying hands you grab at both of his wrists, not to ask in any way for him to ease up, but from a sudden wash and need to hold onto him possibly until you die.

He lets you collapse to the floor once he pulls out, but he follows your sinking form and sits alongside you and partially underneath you as you both try to catch your breath.

The club scene in front of you is now blurs of flashing lights and abstract writhing forms, and if it wasn’t for the zaps of energy you feel from every brush of his finger tips, your brain would probably be too muddled to register him fixing both your clothes and his.

You become just slightly more aware when he shifts your body against him enough to grab at the strap of your bag with the heel of his shoe, and you try to sit up faster than necessary and give yourself a small head rush when he pulls it to himself and flips it open.

“You seemed a little weirdly unaffected by the whole,” he flails his hands in front of you for a second as he speaks, and your lagging mind takes a second to catch up with his attempts at implication, “not the fucking part clearly,” he teases, “but the leading up to it. The meeting part and all.”

“I know what this place is,” you admit, and if your legs had gained just a bit more strength you probably would have stood and requested a glass of water just from how gravely your voice had become, “I knew I was probably going to run into you.”

“But you weren’t looking for me,” he tries, and fails, at hiding the slight edge of offense his voice shows, “if you knew I was here why didn’t you look for me?”

“I didn’t worry about it,” you say, warming up a bit again in the fear that it may have come off slightly rude, “or, like, I mean I knew you’d be able to find me easier than I could find you. I was more interested in finding answers.”

“Answers to what? You said you knew this place, or at least what it is?”

“Well I only know the basics,” you shift in his hold, knocking his hands away as they sift through your bag, and grabbing blindly until you can pull out the book, “I found this journal and it-“

“A journal?” he asks in a volume that could have been obnoxiously loud if it weren’t for the thumping bass that shook the floor beneath you, and pulls the small book from your hands.

“It was written by a woman who came here a long time ago,” you explain, deciding to not take offense to his rough and grabbing hands, “I found it and tracked the club down, I needed to see if it was real.”

“Oh it's real alright,” he laughs as he starts to flip through the pages, stopping for a moment to smile at a simple sketch she had done of a cat that she said lived in the back alley, “hey wait I think I know this name, and these people.”

“What are you on about?” you ask with a scoff as you tug the book from his grubby fingers, “you can’t possibly know these people, this was written in like the fifties. Stop pulling my leg.”

“Oh I see,” he smacks your thigh playfully as he leans over your shoulder to glance at the first page that mentioned anything about the date, the ink clear enough to read 1953 in the swirling handwriting, “you think you know everything.”

“I do know everything, fuck you,” you glare playfully at him over your shoulder, “or I would know, if you’d let me go into that weirdo hall.”

“No hall, for now at least,” he sighs, the gears in his head turning as he thinks of the next thing to say, “but you know, time doesn’t exist the same way here, the woman who wrote this probably didn’t know that at the time, so I’m not surprised you don’t either.”

“What do you mean time doesn’t exist?” you look at him as if he’s grown a second head, but do you really have the nerve to question him like that? Considering that entire concept of the club you are very aware of its existence now, a time situation shouldn’t be the most shocking should it?

“Well, it's hard to explai-“

“Then don’t explain it,” you almost jump fully out of his lap at the deep voice that rattles above you, and both him and you look up at the figure that looms over you now.

The man is tall, his black hoodie looking weird in contrast to the clothes of the other club goers, and with a squinting observation and a familiar and annoyed sigh from the man seated behind you, you realize you’re being stared down by the mysterious entity that is the DJ, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket in annoyance.

“Huh?” Ten lets out more in the form of a noise than a word, as his arms wind tightly around your form.

“I said don’t explain shit,” the man begins to tap his foot in irritation as he speaks, and you wonder if he’s aware that he’s in rhythm with the song that surrounds you, “you need to chill out with the loose tongue, its bad enough we have the big mouths outside.”

“I wasn’t gonna go that far,” Ten sounds reminiscent of a scolded toddler, and considering the man is hindering you from getting information that you wanted so badly, you can feel yourself mirroring the pout he wears, “I know what I’m doing alright man? Why are you over here anyways, shouldn’t you be at your little booth minding your business.”

“No one minds their business over at that booth, and you should know that better than anyone pervert,” the words are sharp, but the curl to his lips and the underlying playfulness to his tone tells you the likeliness of them being friends is high, “anyways, I know we don’t follow any regulations or anything here, but I’m still gonna take a fuckin’ break or two.”

“Well breaks over,” Ten reaches out a hand to playfully swat the man away, “I didn’t wait this long for you to just interrupt my bonding time with my person alright?”

“Alright, alright,” he finally starts to shuffle away, throwing one last comment about Ten being bitter his person showed up first over his shoulder with a grin.

“What a loser,” Ten starts, looking at you playfully and rolling his eyes, “too bad he’s like my best friend or whatever.”

“You seem to have a lot of fun around here don’t you?” you take a shot at voicing your observations, your heart fluttering in a completely new way at the warm smile he shoots you.

“Just wait a see, my love. Just wait and see.”

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[hangovercurse]

Stay With You

You get the call after Rook’s accident and go to the hospital to take care of him.

Requests: “ Could you maybe write another Rook story about where you get the call after his accident that he’s in the hospital and just always staying there with him and when his dad shows up he sees you leaning on the bed sleeping holding Rooks hand or something and he knows you’ll take care of him? I just really love Rook “ “ I was wondering if you know what happened to rook and if you could write something cute like taking care of him after being worried at first about him. I had a mental breakdown when we got the news I'm hoping he gets well soon “

JP “Rook” Cappelletty X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of the accident (violence, broken bones, etc.), angst

A/N: I have been following every update from Rook and his Dad bc I have been so worried. It looks like he’s finally able to go home tonight but I’m still going out of my mind. I tried my best to do what happened justice (without being too depressing) and ended up needing a part 2. I had to reread what happened like 30 times so y’all better enjoy this just for my heartbreak alone. 

Word Count: 3409

part ii

You were always scared when you got a phone call from an unknown number when Rook was out for the night. You’d gotten calls from the police station and hospital more than once, so you’d learn to expect trouble when your phone rang.

But this was not what you were expecting.

“Excuse me, is this Y/N Y/L/N, the emergency contact for JP Cappelletty?” A female’s voice rang out through the line. You rolled your eyes.

“This is her, what did he do this time?” You smiled, figuring he’d gotten hurt doing something stupid and just needed stiches.

She cleared her throat, “Mr. Cappelletty has been involved in a serious accident. He’s currently at Southern California Hospital awaiting treatment.”

You felt like your entire body stopped working. Your throat closed up and you started shaking. A normal phone call wouldn’t use the words “serious accident,” they would just say he’d been admitted for “minor treatment.”

“Can I come see him?” You barely got the words out, mind spinning in a million directions. The lady on the end of the phone gave you an affirmation and you thanked her, hanging up quickly and packing a small bag for you and Rook. You threw some of his clothes in, some hygiene supplies for you both, and anything else you could think he’d want. You texted your boss a quick explanation and asked for the next few days off before grabbing your keys, wallet, mask, and Rook’s insurance cards, and heading out the door.

You drove to the hospital, calling Colson on your way, on speaker, of course. “Whaddup?”

“Rook is in the hospital.” You rushed out, still in a bit of a panicked mode.

You could hear his breathing pause before he continued, “it’s probably nothing, you know Rook. He probably just punched a guy or something stupid.”

You had tried to convince yourself of that, but something felt wrong about it. “I know, but the hospital said he was in a serious accident.” You emphasized the word “serious.” “Maybe I’m overreacting but I have this really bad feeling right now.”

Colson’s voice held more worry after your statement, too. “Okay. Just get there and figure out what’s going on and then call me. What hospital is he at?”

“Southern California.”

“That’s like 10 minutes away from me. If it is serious, just call me back and I can be there.” His voice was much calmer than yours, which you were thankful for.”

“Okay.”

“And Y/N,” He paused, “try to stay calm. If it is bad, he’s gonna need you to take care of him.”

You took in a deep breath, trying to slow your heartrate. “Yeah, yeah okay. Thanks.”

“Let me know what’s going on.”

“I will. Thank you, Kells.” You hung up the phone, pulling into the hospital parking garage and turning your car off. You sat in the dark for a few moments, gathering your thoughts, before heading towards the hospital. When you reached the front desk, you gave them Rook’s name and waited as they read your temperature from the touchless thermometer. You had to stop yourself from groaning as she started reading the Covid questionnaire, answering no to every question.

The lady gave you directions to his room, telling you they’ll take your ID once you get up to the fourth floor. Your hands were shaking as you rode the elevator up, and you tried to calm yourself down before you saw your boyfriend. Colson was right, you worrying wouldn’t do anything but make him nervous.

You gave your ID to the security guard on the fourth floor, impatiently waiting for him to print out your visitor’s sticker. Once you had put it on, you walked down the hallway, counting the room numbers to find his. Once you reached the door, you took a deep breath, unsure what you would find beyond it.

You opened it slowly, a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting on the bed, an ice pack pressed against his face. “Babe!” His face lit up when he saw you. He tried to lean forward on his own, but his grimace told you that it hurt him too much.

You smiled, setting the bag in your hands on the floor and adjusting the bed so he didn’t have to lean. “What happened?” You whispered, taking in his state, and pulling down your mask. He had a small bruise under his left eye and there were wires and tubes running up his left arm. His right arm was wrapped in layers of hospital bandage.

He frowned at you, left hand reaching for your hand and motioned you to sit down beside him, so you did, gently.  You wanted to hold his hand, but you were worried it would hurt him more, so you settled to rubbing his thigh gently. “I was walking around in the hills, and then these two guys came out of fucking nowhere. They jumped me and my friend and took a bunch of our shit. I punched one of them but the other one ran to his car and said he had a gun.” Your eyes went wide. “He didn’t have a gun, but he did have a car. And he literally came full speed at me and his partner.”

You tried to stay calm, but his recount of the night made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him in your house forever. “That sounds so scary, love.” You whispered, your free hand reaching out and stroking his right cheek. He leaned his head into your touch, a small smile on his face. “Did anyone see anything? Or does anyone know who they were?”

He shook his head lightly, “the guy in the car got away, but the other dude got hit too. Pretty sure he’s in this hospital. The cops came in and asked about it earlier, but I’d never seen those guys before.”

You nodded, leaning in, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m very glad you’re okay.” You moved the ice pack from his face, observing the purple mark on his face. You may not know how to take care of broken bones, but you’d been with Rook through more than a few bruises and busted lips. You peppered kisses over the skin lightly, making him smile, which was the best thing you could do at the moment.

“The doctors are supposed to come back in soon. They did some X-Rays earlier to figure out exactly what’s broken, but my hand is definitely fucked up, and my legs.” He raised his right arm, showing you the cuts that ran along it. You frowned. “They said I’ll probably need surgery, which sucks.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Your voice was soft. You reached your hand to move his braids out of his face, something you’d gotten in the habit of doing quite often.

He shrugged, “I’m fine with it, you’re the one who has to take care of me afterwards.” You smiled and shook your head teasingly.

“I do that anyways, loser.” You chuckled, before a thought popped into your head. “Should I call your dad? I told Colson but I didn’t think to call your dad.”

He shook his head lightly, “Once they told me they’d called you I texted him. He said he’d be here in an hour or so.” You nodded, moving to sit in the chair beside the hospital bed so you could be at eye level with your boyfriend instead of leaning down uncomfortably. “What did Kells say?”

You chuckled, “he said you’d probably just gotten in a fight or did something stupid.” Rook pouted dramatically. “I told him we’d let him know what was going on later and he could come to the hospital if you were up for it.”

He smiled at you as you leaned your head onto the bed, near his abdomen, and looked up at him. He reached to rest his hand on top of yours, even though you could tell it hurt him to do so. You sat in silence for a few moments until you heard a small knock on the door. “Come in.” Rook called, and you sat up, putting on your mask and turning to see who was coming in.

A woman in her early 40s walked in, followed by two younger men. “Hello again, Mr. Cappelletty. I’ve got the results from your scans.” She spoke as the other two placed X-Ray films onto a small lightboard in the room. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.” She said as she noticed you.

“Oh, it’s okay Dr. Tambi, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He smiled, looking towards you. You smiled kindly at the doctor. “She can stay, right?” He asked, his hand curling around yours lightly, you could feel the motion straining him and you flipped your hand around, holding his in yours lightly. You hoped it would hurt him less.

Dr. Tambi gave a nod and flashed you a smile, “of course.” She turned back to the films, pointing at the first one. “This is your left hand. If you look at this part right here, you can see where your second metacarpal fractured at the bottom near the carpal.” She raised her right hand, pointing to the bottom of her pointer finger near the knuckle. “So, we’re going to need to do a minor surgery to fix that up a little bit.” Rook nodded and you ran your hand up and down his arm gently. “Your right hand got off a bit easier,” she pointed to the next X-Ray. “No surgery, we’re gonna put it in a cast for a little while just in case but it might be off before you even leave the hospital.” You could feel him relax under your touch at that.

“But then your legs,” she pointed to the next images, “are a bit more complicated. I would imagine they took a brunt of the hit, correct?” She asked. He nodded again and you bit your lip, trying not to cringe at the image of your boyfriend being hit by a car. “The lower portion of your right tibia shattered into 3 pieces.” She pointed to the bone fragments in the X-ray, and this time a shiver physically went through your body. “So, we’ll need to do surgery to fix that up, too. And your left ankle has a hairline fracture that won’t need surgery, but you will have to stay off of it for a while.”

You looked at Rook, taking in the clench of his jaw. He was trying to look tough, but you could see through him, you always could. You knew he wouldn’t ask, so you did. “How long will they take to heal?”

He turned towards you, a soft smile on his face. You two worked so well because you balanced him out. Whenever he would almost get into a fight at a bar, you would be the rational one to pull him away. When you got too stressed out or uptight, he knew just how to get you to relax. When he was too nervous to think straight, you were there to ask all the right questions. You took care of each other, and you could read him like an open book.

“The left hand won’t need to stay in a cast for very long if the surgery goes well, but the left leg might be in a boot for 6 to 8 weeks, and the right leg will probably be a little bit longer, closer to 8 to 12 weeks.” Rook took in a deep breath, and the hand on his arm squeezed lightly, subtly telling him that you were there for him, and he would be okay. “Once we get the surgeries out of the way we can talk more about the treatment plan going forward, so try not to worry about it too much.” She smiled.

One of the men stepped forward, “I’m Dr. Stenson, I’ll be the anesthesiologist working with you.” Rook nodded towards the man, who continued to go over what Rook could and couldn’t do before the surgery. “How often do you drink or smoke?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

Rook shoved you lightly, a small smile on his face. “Often.” He said, and you tried not to laugh.

“And what do you smoke?” He asked.

You mumbled under your breath, “what doesn’t he smoke is the better question.” Rook heard you, sending you a glare and you giggled quietly.

“Weed and cigarettes.” He said, trying to hide laughter as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. The man nodded and soon after the doctors left, leaving you and Rook alone again. “You’re so mean to me sometimes.” He pouted.

You laughed, “If it wasn’t so easy to make fun of you, I wouldn’t be so mean.”

“I got hit by a car, you have to be nice to me.” He whined and you rolled your eyes jokingly. “That’s a law.” He stated.

“Oh, is it?” You smiled, leaning forward, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I guess I can be a little nice to you. For now.”

Rook’s expression turned serious, his eyes gazing into yours. “I’m kind of freaking out right now.” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not gonna be able to play for at least 8 weeks. What if I forget how to? Or what if they get into surgery and find out that it’s worse than they thought and I can never play again?”

You sighed, knowing these thoughts had been festering in him since the accident. You brought your hand up to his face, your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek. “Babe listen to me. You are the best drummer I know; you’ve been drumming for what, your entire life? You’re not gonna forget how to drum from 8 weeks off. And even if they get in there and find out its worse than they thought, which they won’t, we’ll figure it out. Everything is gonna be okay. They’ve seen worse fractures than these, trust me, they know what they’re doing.”

He nodded, letting out air through his nose. “But what if I could never drum again? I dropped out of high school. I’ve literally never done anything else except drum. I wouldn’t have money, I wouldn’t have friends because they would be touring all the time, I would lose everything.”

“You’d have me.” You whispered, “You would have me, and your dad, and all the people who really matter, even if they go on tour.”

“You would stay with me even if I was broke?” He sounded so small, so scared, and yet so amazed that you would even hint at the idea.

You frowned, confusion on your face. “I would stay with you if we were living on the streets and eating out of trash cans. But we wouldn’t be, because I also have a job and you’re going to be able to drum in no time.”

You simultaneously loved and hated this side of Rook. He never showed anyone how insecure he could be, and he was so insecure sometimes. You hated seeing him so sad. But you loved it, because you were one of the only people who did see it, because he trusted you enough to let you.

You guys had been friends for years and started dating 3 years ago after he kissed you, completely sober, in the studio while he thought the other guys were taking a break (they were really spying on you two the whole time). In those three years you’d come to know just about everything about each other. You trusted him with every piece of you, and he trusted you. You’d moved in together 2 years ago, and now everyone seemed to be waiting for a ring.

You didn’t mind waiting, you didn’t need to get married to know that Rook loved you or to know that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. It was clear in the way you looked at each other that there would never be anyone else for either of you.

“I love you.” He mumbled, bringing a smile to your lips.

“I love you too.” You pressed another slow kiss to his soft lips. He closed his eyes as you did so, relaxing into it. You realized how tired he must be. “Why don’t you take a nap, J?” You whispered, and he mumbled a sound of protest, but you could already see him struggling against his sleepiness. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You ran your free hand over his forehead, his braids having fallen into his face again, before adjusting his bed so he was laying down more.

It only took you 15 minutes before you fell asleep, your head resting against his stomach and hand still in his.

A little while later, Johnny rushed in the room, worry on his face until he saw the two of you. He smiled, taking a quick picture that he would definitely be showing on your wedding day. You got a good one, son. He thought to himself, feeling a sense of his pride that JP had finally found someone as good as you who would put up with his shit.

He took the seat on the wall opposite of the hospital bed. You came to consciousness 20 minutes later, finding the older man and smiling. “Hi Mr. Cappelletty.” You whispered, not wanting to wake Rook up.

“Hey, darlin’. How’s he doing?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, a soft smile on your face as you took in his peaceful features. “He’s doing good, a little freaked out, I think, but he’s good.” The man nodded, and you continued. “They’re doing surgery on his hand tomorrow and then on his leg a few days from now.”

“Damn. Did he tell you what happened? All I got was a very vague text.”

You nodded, the smile falling. “I guess these guys jumped him while he was out and one of them got in a car and hit him.” Your breathing got heavy thinking about it and you could see Johnny’s eyes widen.

He took in a deep breath, processing what you told him. “Jesus, I just thought he’d got his ass kicked at some bar.”

“So did Colson.” You let out a short laugh, your heart not in it. Your hand moved up to run over his arm again. “He’s scared he’s not gonna be able to drum again.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you took in Rook’s sleeping state. For the first time since you’d gotten the call you allowed your emotions to hit you fully, thoughts of how much worse it could’ve been and how scared he must’ve felt floating through your mind.

Johnny could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he walked over to where you were sitting, pulling you into his stomach. “He’ll be okay.” He whispered, “I raised a strong kid.”

You nodded, trying to hide your sniffles. “I know, I just- I can’t stop thinking about how much worse it could’ve been. If he-.” You bit your lip, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. “I can’t lose him.” Your voice was weak, and you weren’t even sure that the words came out.

Johnny pulled you closer, “I know, sweetheart. But you have to remember that he’s okay, it wasn’t worse.” You nodded. “You’re allowed to want him to stay inside for the next few months out of fear, that’s natural. You just gotta remember how lucky we are.”

You wiped your eyes gently, smiling up at the father of your soulmate. “Thank you.” You whispered.

He nodded, “He needs to remember how lucky he is to have you. There’re not many people who would stick around with him for 3 years. Not people like you.”

You smiled softly, looking at Rook with fondness in your eyes, “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

Johnny patted your shoulder, going back to where he was sitting. You grabbed a spare pillow from the table next to you and propped it on the bed , slightly on Rook’s lap. You laid your head on it, making sure Rook’s hand was in a comfortable position in your own, and drifted off to sleep.

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 13

II.II

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song(s): “Mr. Perfectly Fine” by Taylor Swift

You find yourself having more sleepless nights than ever before. Every time you close your eyes you’re facing the terrifying horrors your brain has managed to conjure up. The sounds of people screaming for help as debris rains down around you. You’re fighting against the arms of two firemen. Someone has to help them!

Your alarm is still hours away from ringing, yet you glance at the time every few minutes, every minute dragging along like it’s an hour. Your eyes are glued to your ceiling fan, watching as it swings back and forth slightly with each rotation of the blades.

After your first case with the BAU, things have started to slow down. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have cases every single day of the week. Most of your days of work are summarized by piles and piles of paperwork. The team seems to be perpetually behind on every case report. The team tries to write up a general profile for every case that requests the BAU assistance that you can’t help with in person. In addition, Strauss loves to load the whole team with special talking events and lecture series. There’s hardly a day where everyone is in the office at the same time and when you are, you’re all soon called away on a case.

You haven’t been called away on a case since your first with the team. You actually don’t mind doing paperwork most of the day. The main reason is that it gives you an easy way to stay away from Hotch. You’ve jokingly struck up a deal that for every one of your files that Reid walks up to Hotch’s office for you, you’ll buy him a coffee. So far you owe him nearly two weeks of coffee.

Hotch is not completely oblivious. He’s caught on to your little game and so far, he’s been kind enough to give you some distance. He’s stopped pressuring you to talk to him. Maybe he finally sensed the raw emotion of your voice the other day in his office.

You resign yourself to the fact that you’re not going to fall back to sleep before your alarm rings. You pull the sheets off of you, kicking your feet off to the side, wrapping your arms around your body tightly as a shiver runs through you. The temperature in Virginia is dropping rapidly as winter takes over. You love when it’s cold. You love the way the cold, blustery air bites at your skin and makes you tingly. It’s a nice reminder that you’re alive. After everything you’ve been through, you’re still standing. You can still feel something. You can feel the cold.

You go through the motions of your morning routine, taking a shower to wake yourself up, brushing your teeth, pulling on some slacks and a nice blouse. You turn on some music while you get ready but even your favorite songs can’t seem to pull your head out from the haze you are living in recently. Your body is working on autopilot because before you know it, you’ve finished your makeup. It’s not even 6 AM.

You pop half of a bagel into the toaster, make a cup of coffee in your thermos, and then cover the bagel with cream cheese and honey. You look around your half-empty apartment, taking your time to eat your small breakfast.

Today is just going to be one of those particularly difficult and painful days. You can sense it. Your body feels lit up with nerves. Eating your breakfast is difficult, just the taste of the food making you sick to your stomach.

Your thoughts bounce between two topics: your past in the FBI and your past with Aaron Hotchner. It’s hard to believe that the Aaron Hotchner you see every day is the same Aaron Hotchner you once knew. You glance at the time, if you don’t leave soon you‘ll miss the train and be stuck at home for another hour. You rush out the door, walking to the train station. You settle into a seat, pulling your headphones on, hoping to drown out the rattling and humming of the train. You reach down to dig through your bag for your thermos of coffee. Shit.

The thermos is sitting on your counter. You can practically see it in your mind, right there on the edge of the counter. It’s almost become a joke at this point the horrible quality coffee of the BAU. You and Reid have a running joke about starting up a collection fund for better quality coffee, at least for your BAU floor. Nearly every team member brings their own coffee, settling for the shitty stuff in the conference room or on the jet in place of their second or third cup that day.

You get off the train, tempted to call Reid to bring you coffee, but according to your deal, you’re supposed to be the one doing that for him. You let out a tired sigh, calling a car to drive you to the office, wincing at the cost of your morning commute. You really need to get a car.

The parking lot is almost completely empty. You swipe your ID at the door. The night guard hasn’t switched out for the morning guard yet. You recognize him from some of the late nights you’ve had within your first week of work and give a small smile and nod. Your heart thumps into your throat every time you step onto the elevator in this building. All this in an attempt to avoid being alone with Hotch.

You reach forward to press floor six, when a voice calls out, footsteps moving rapidly towards the elevator, “Hold the elevator please!” You see a black briefcase swing up between the closing doors as you lunge for the door hold button. “Thank you—” There’s a slight hesitation in Hotch’s voice as he pauses and looks over you. “Agent.” He steps into the elevator. You make room for him, putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

You attempt your best, most polite, professional smile and nod, “Good morning, Sir.” You rock back and forth on your toes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him open his mouth to say something before closing it again. There’s a long pause.

Should you say something? A normal employee would ask their boss how they are and make small talk. But this isn’t really the most normal boss/employee relationship. It seems frivolous to make small talk with someone who has seen the most intimate parts of you.

“You’re here early again,” Hotch finally speaks up. The elevator’s cool blue fluorescent lighting somehow emphasizes just how warm those brown eyes of his are. Those intimate parts of you that you keep shrouded from the naked eye, every single weakness you have shoved down, seem to be on full display in the way that he looks at you.

“I was already up. Thought I’d come in and get some work done,” The only way to keep the profiler in him at bay is to tell him some version of the truth. It’s true. You were already awake. You did decide it would just be better to come in and get started on work. However, you know that the exhaustion in your face is something you can’t hide away from his analytical eyes. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite place as he gazes back at you. It’s a cross between disbelief and pity.

Pity. That’s definitely something you don’t want. Especially not from him. But maybe it’s not pity? Concern?

“I work out in the mornings,” Now you’re just fully lying, “I finished early and thought why not come in.”

“Y/N-” His voice lowers in volume as if someone’s listening to your conversation. He says your name like it’s a swear word. Like the name is some secret, forbidden phrase that he shouldn’t be saying, especially not at work. The elevator doors ring and they open to the BAU floor. Thankfully, there’s a worker from the night crew waiting to get on, interrupting whatever Hotch planned to say, and you’re quick to step off, moving around the man.

Hotch knows better than to follow after you to continue the conversation. There’s no one else in the offices yet, but the elevator is like neutral territory. A space separate from the job. Some sort of limbo between personal and professional. If the elevator is neutral, the BAU floor is the war front.

The situation is comical. You speed away from him, but he has to walk right past you to get to his office. What you don’t expect is the small coffee cup that he places on your desk before continuing right up to his office.

You remember him holding a tray of coffees in the elevator. Did he always intend to give you one of them? Is this attempt at a truce?

You remove the lid from the cup. The steam erupts wildly, just the smell of the coffee alone enough to already start perking you up. Once the initial small burst of heat clears, you stare down into the cup, expecting to see completely black coffee, the way that Hotch takes his. To your surprise, it's a light caramel color and you can smell a slight sweetness. You take a long sip. It’s perfect. You haven’t changed the way you take your coffee. He remembers your order. Is that supposed to mean something?

You realize you’ve been staring into your coffee for too long once you see Morgan and Garcia step off the elevator, his arm casually thrown around her shoulders. You can’t hear their conversation, but she says something, vibrantly gesturing with her hands, as Morgan lets out a laugh, flashing those perfect teeth of his. He gives Garcia’s arm a reassuring squeeze. She turns and scurries off to her little lair while Morgan turns towards the bullpen, digging around for a file in his bag.

“You’re always here early, new girl,” Morgan teases with a playful smack of the file to your head as he walks past.

“I have a name, Morgan,” You roll your eyes, attempting to fix your hair.

“What can I say? I’m a big fan of nicknames,” He grins and starts to walk towards the stairs.

“Wait! Can you take this file up to Hotch?” You hold out the papers from your desk. You give him your best, most innocent, pleading eyes. Usually, that works pretty well to get Reid to do things for you. Flirting really trips Reid up. The problem with Morgan is that he doesn’t get flustered or uncomfortable like Reid, he plays into your flirtations. You get along much better with Morgan now that he’s had about a week to warm up to you.

He still doesn’t trust you and you can tell that he questions your skills. So occasionally, you’ll indulge him. You’ll ask him for advice on something you’re working on. You’ll ask him to check your work before you hand it in to Hotch. You want him to know you respect him.

You don’t trust easily and neither does he, a quality that you have both noticed in each other. Morgan doesn’t push you to indulge him with your past. The other team members haven’t pushed you necessarily, but they seem to dance around the topic of your dismissal. Morgan avoids the topic entirely. You get the feeling that you and Morgan are way more similar than it would appear on the surface.

“Pretty boy gets free coffee, what do I get?” He stops and walks back closer to you.

“What do you want?” You smirk and lean forward placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

Morgan pauses and thinks for a second, “You come out with the team for drinks sometime, first round on you.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine. Deal.” You hold out the files and he takes them with a smile.

“I would’ve done it just to be nice, you know,” He laughs and walks up to knock on Hotch’s door. “Just wanted to see what I could get out of the new girl.” He opens the door, disappearing into the office. Emily finally arrives for the day, Reid trailing close behind her.

“All I’m saying is there are so many scientific fallacies built into the Jurassic Park franchise that it's totally reasonable to watch the films as comedies. I mean mixing Jurassic DNA with any other species just produces new species, not the same exact dinosaurs from the Jurassic period.” Reid rambles on and Emily just shoots you a look.

“This is why I don’t offer to carpool anymore,” She taunts and smiles at you.

“Not even me?” You smile, giving Reid a playful kick under the desks as he sits down.

“Are you going to annoy me about the minuscule details of every great award-winning movie?” She raises a brow, unpacking her belongings, setting a large cup of steaming coffee down.

“Well, I don’t know shit about science,” You shake your head, “I might complain about different book to screen adaptations and the number of details lost and the symbolism lost in the transfer of the work to the screen.”

“It’s moments like these that make me hate that the rest of the team has their own offices,” Prentiss sighs, already reaching for her headphones. You’re not really supposed to listen to music while working, but she breaks that rule all the time. She argues it helps her focus, but you really think it helps distract her from the horrors on the page. In the past week, you’ve learned that Emily Prentiss is great at compartmentalizing.

She’s easily able to push aside personal for professional, however, that comes at a great mental cost for her. She reminds you a little bit of Hotch in that way. She pushes the personal feelings down so deep that it’s hard for her to retrieve them when she needs to, so she’s wary of how detached she gets. But being emotionally detached from the work is the only way to avoid pain. So she listens to music.

Only two case reports later, the day is almost over. The days of sleep deprivation are finally taking a toll on your work ethic. Your brain is in a haze. You thought the two servings of caffeine would help clear your mind, but instead, they’ve just heightened your anxiety, making you more on edge than you already were. It doesn’t help that every few minutes your eyes drift up to the blinds of Hotch’s office, looking up at him while he focuses down on his work.

How can he be so… okay? He pretends as if your presence isn’t immensely distracting. Maybe it isn’t for him. Whatever he felt for you all those years ago was never love, you know that. Maybe he liked the ego boost of the way you worshipped him, hanging on to every last word out of his mouth. Maybe he just liked your body. He broke your heart, yet he sits in his office like everything is perfect.

“Today’s cases?” Reid stands next to your desk, a large stack of files in his arms already.

“How do you get those done so fast?” You shake your head at him and hand him your two, very slim, files.

“Eidetic memory, high-speed reading, genius-level IQ,” Emily pipes up without looking at the two of you. “Any of those options is a good explanation.”

“Thank you, Spence. I am forever in your debt,” You tease him as he gives a cute little tight-lipped smile, rushing up the stairs to hand in the work from the day.

As if on cue, Garcia, Morgan, and JJ step into the bullpen, their bags slung over their shoulders and Rossi comes down from the catwalk to meet the three.

“So how about that drink now?” Morgan once again has an arm wrapped around Garcia who then glances between the two of you.

“Yes! The newbie has to join us for drinks!” She smiles wildly, “Oh I just know you’re going to be so much fun. Plus, I have so much I want to interrogate you about.” It’s a light-hearted joke, a turn of phrase, but you know that Garcia probably vetted you within minutes of your time at the BAU. Penelope Garcia has the biggest heart of anyone you’ve ever met. She has so much love and joy for her family, this team, but you also know that she will do anything to keep her family safe. She’s not a violent person, but you know that if she had to die to protect this stand-in family, she would.

You glance among the faces of your new team, each more hopeful and excited than the last. They’ve all been immensely welcoming, despite their individual reservations about you. “I guess I could be down for a drink or two.” You start packing your bag. You hear Hotch’s office door open.

“Pretty boy, you down for drinks? Y/L/N is buying the first round!” Morgan calls up to Reid. You smile up at him, but it quickly drops when you see him.

Reid’s eyes flit to yours and there’s an apologetic look on his face, “Y/N, Hotch wants to talk to you.” The team exchanges a series of looks, your face getting warm as soon as you can feel all eyes on you.

You wave at them dismissively, “You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up if I have time,” You force a smile, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, practically dragging yourself up the stairs. As you pass Reid, he gives your hand a small touch. It’s small, but it means the world to you. You know how weird Reid is about contact and germs. He hugs or touches the team because he trusts them. He feels a sense of family with them. It’s only been a week, yet you and Reid have shared countless passionate conversations about books.

He gives you recommendations and you rush to buy them. You indulge his rambling rants. Sometimes you ride the train together. He gets off much later than you on the train, taking it all the way to DC, but he makes the ride seem like seconds, not minutes. You love to see what people are passionate about and Spencer Reid is passionate about everything. He loves to learn, a feeling you relate to heavily.

You knock on the hardwood door, the nameplate seeming to stare back at you, taunting you. It isn’t new that a door with Aaron Hotchner’s name on it haunts you, but this one is different. It holds so much more potential. Just a little strip of metal adhered to the dark wood. Yet it holds your past life with him and about a million different possible future ones both with and without him.

You hear a deep ‘come in’ through the door and push it open to see Hotch hunched over, focused on the work on his desk, the same way he’s looked all day through his blinds. “Please, sit,” He reaches for a pen and your eyes go to the form on his desk.

You smooth out your pants as you take the seat across from him. “You wanted to see me?”

“Interesting system you’ve worked out with Morgan and Reid.” If you weren’t looking directly at him you would swear he was smiling through the comment, but instead, you're faced with those emotionless eyes of his.

“I’m sorry,” You stumble over your words a little. Did he call you up here to reprimand you for not walking your own work up to his office? “It’s just a little silly thing I was doing. It’s childish I’ll—”

“That’s not why I needed to see you,” He cuts you off, waving his hand. He leans forward, one arm resting on the armrest of his chair, the other hand holding his pen. He rubs his fingers together with the pen in his hand.

Needed to see you. He didn’t mean those words that way, but your brain takes them and runs with them, forcing you to need a second to breathe. As always, Hotch sucks the oxygen out of your lungs, leaving you breathless, scrambling for some sense of sanity.

“Strauss suggested—” He pauses and corrects himself, “Well, Strauss requested an evaluation of you after your first week on the job and I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Right now?” You question him and he gives a slight nod in response.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and Strauss wants to make sure you’re really ready for this job.”

“I am. I was gone for a year. I don’t need more time off. I need to get back to work and back to feeling useful.” You answer decisively. It’s that simple. He has your psych evaluations and your therapists notes. So does Strauss. What more do they want from you?

You can tell he takes note of your exact word choice, eyes narrowing as you say ‘useful.’He jots something down on the pad in front of him, “You’ve gotten great work done these past few days. You’re an excellent agent and you have a real skill for profiling.”

“Thank you, Sir,” You play off the compliment, but truthfully, it terrifies you how much you feel joy coursing through you at the praise. His approval still means everything you. You can’t and won’t be dependent upon him. “The rest of the team definitely has a lot more experience though.”

“Is that why you ask Reid questions that you know the answer to? Or ask Morgan to look over your work even though you’ve already checked it over twice and know that it’s perfect?” You meet his gaze reluctantly and this time there is a small upturn to his lips at the corners.

You’re rendered speechless temporarily. Fair enough. Just as much as you’ve been profiling and analyzing him, he;’s been observant. He’s paying attention to your behavior. That is his job after all. “Excuse me?”

“You want everyone here to like you. You want to prove yourself to everyone, to me. You don’t need to do that.” The look in his eyes makes your heart pound aggressively against your ribcage so wildly that you’re convinced he can see your chest moving with each thud. He’s saying he’s noticed the signs of sleep deprivation. That’s what the coffee was about. That’s why he’s called you in for this evaluation. “I think you’ve been through something traumatic. Now, I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, I understand that the details of your removal from your original post have been made confidential but I think this job takes a lot from you.” He scoffs a little and shakes his head, “No actually, this job will take everything from you. It’ll eat you alive, but you need to find a way not to let it.”

You’re sure that the state of both of you is enough to scare off anyone from wanting to join the BAU. Both of you are poster children for sleep deprivation. You’re working yourself overtime to prove yourself to the team while distracting your mind from the past. And Hotch? It’s clear he works himself overtime to make up for something. You haven’t quite figured out what yet, but he’s trying to make up for a past mistake. He’s trying to be the best that he can in his position. What did the job take from him that’s left him a shell of himself?

“Is there a question in there, sir?” You try to play off the instinct to snap at him.

“Do you have someone to talk to?” There’s that confusing look on his face again. The one that makes you feel like you’re being pitied, “You don’t have to talk to me, I mean, of course, you can talk to me, but you need to talk to someone. Do you have someone?”

You nod, “I can always call my therapist if I need her. And if I need someone, I’ll find someone. No need to worry, Sir.”

“Hotch,” He corrects. Your answer doesn’t satisfy him. “I’ve seen a pattern before, with agents that come back from trauma. They’re desperate for acceptance and approval, yet they have trouble trusting their coworkers. This team can’t function without trust. So do you?”

“Do I what?” You’re clenching your toes in your shoes, in order to hide the anger that the question fuels inside you. With every question, this feels more like an interrogation.

“Trust your fellow agents? Trust this team? Trust me?” He waves his hand around like it’s the simplest question he could ask you as if he hasn’t given you a million different reasons to be distrustful.

“I think trust is a fickle thing. Easy to lose, nearly impossible to gain back when lost. In addition, it takes time to build trust.” Your hands fidget a little at your sides and his eyes dart down to notice the behavior. “I don’t expect any of the other agents to trust me right away but I don’t plan on giving them any reason not to. I hope they’re just as understanding with me as I am with them.”

With the two of you, it’s never been about what is said, but always what goes unsaid, and this conversation, so much seems to be going unsaid.

“This team only works because we value cooperation and we respect one another,” He nods and looks back at the form in front of him, “I’ll be sure to tell Strauss how well you’re fitting in.” As he continues to talk, you gather up your things. “I’m impressed by how much you’ve accomplished these past few years in the bureau.”

“Thank you, Sir.” There’s so much more you want to say to him. There’s so much you want to ask. You want to yell and scream and curse him out, but you also want to throw it all in his face. How much you achieved without his help. You’re almost out the door but you can’t seem to bite your tongue any longer. When you look back at him, he’s standing, collecting his things, “How are you so… so okay?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows furrow into confusion.

“I can’t breathe around you. I can’t think straight. I can’t get my work done,” You let out, your voice tired and weak as you let the truth out, “I go home and I can���t get you off my mind. How are you just so professional and composed as if I’m just like any other employee? Did I really mean so little to you? Did I delude myself that much?”

Hotch pauses and clears his throat. He closes himself off to you by looking at his work, as if the answer he’s looking for is in one of those files, “That was… was a long time ago and I think it’s just best we focus on our responsibilities here as agents, rather than indulge the past.”

“Unbelievable,” You scoff, “It’s sad that you haven’t changed. You are still so opposed to letting yourself feel anything. I can barely get up each morning and bring myself into work to face you, but glad to know you’re doing great.” You wait a moment to see if he has anything to say, but he keeps that stern emotionless veil over his face. “Good night, Sir.” Just like a week ago, you’re almost out the door. Almost free.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” Hotch calls out. You freeze.

“Bullshit,” You breathe out clenching your fists at your side, trying to take another step away from him.

“You were important to me. I cared about you.” He hesitates, like he’s weighing his next words, choosing them carefully, “You’re still important to me. I still care about you, now that you’re a member of the team.”

“Bull. Shit.” You grit out, take a few steps closer, forgetting how much taller he is than you, but you’re determined to stand your ground. “How many were there?”

“Excuse me?”

“How many other girls? How many before me?” You shake your head. You’re not sure that you even want the answer. It’s a question that’s stuck with you ever since that day outside of his office so many years ago. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even bother saving you the heartbreak. He welcomed that girl into his office the same way he did to you without thinking twice.

“I–” He’s at a loss for words, pushing his focus down to the papers on his desk, trailing a finger over the edge of the wood, actively avoiding the question.

“It’s not a difficult question, Hotch,” You’re firm with him. Despite his position of authority over you, as he was before, you’re no longer intimidated by the repercussions of speaking out. You have too much dirt on him. Too many things you could throw in his face at this point. He can’t fire you for speaking your mind. You know he won’t. He can’t threaten your career. If he fires you, he has to explain himself to Strauss. What is he going to say? He can’t explain your history together.

“I don’t remember,” He stumbles over his words, “Three... no four. Definitely four.”

You pause. There’s still one question that has weighed on your mind every day for the past eight years, “And after me?” It’s a question you definitely don’t want the answer to, knowing that in all honesty, the answer doesn’t really matter. It won’t change much. You’ve considered every answer to the question. Every alternative hurts. If he did sleep with that student after you, it solidifies your unimportance in his life. If he didn’t, why would he hurt you the way he did?

It’s a question Hotch clearly never thought you’d actually ask. He finally meets your eye contact, “None.”

You scoff, “You’re a liar.”

“I couldn’t... go through with it with anyone else. I just saw you everywhere in that office. Everywhere I looked. I couldn’t erase the traces of you.” He shakes his head, “And I wanted to go through with it.” That stings, “Because I wanted to forget you. Get you out of my mind and I couldn’t.”

You gnaw at your bottom lip, “Clearly you were able to move on pretty easily,” You gesture to the pictures of the blonde women and the little boy on the bookshelf behind him.

That’s when he completely shuts down. Any sense of humanity you were starting to see in him slowly slips away from you. He’s back to that stonewall of a unit chief. You’ve hit a nerve. “That is not a topic up for discussion.”

“How old is your son? Five? Six?” You cross your arms against your chest, “Don’t act like I was important to you if it was that easy for you to move on. It’s funny, you seem to have everyone around here fooled into thinking you’re some morally just, decent man. I wonder if she knows the truth about you.”

Now you’ve really hit a nerve. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about, Agent.” He gathers up the papers on his desk, shoving them into a file. “You’re dismissed. Evaluation is over.”

“Good night,” You pause, “Sir.” you snatch up your bag from the floor. Was that even a real evaluation? Or just an excuse to force you to finally sit down and talk to him? He was prying for personal answers. Do you have someone? Do you? Trust me? What he really meant was, Are you seeing someone? Are you still mad at me? Do you hate me? You made sure he didn’t get those answers. The answers being no and you don’t know. You feel like you don’t even know him. He barely even looks like the man you found yourself hopelessly falling for.

You text Reid that you’re just too tired to meet the team for drinks. Calling a car to take you to the train station.

Hotch has somehow managed to become a completely different person, yet still maintains some similarities to the person he was before. You still think of the same words to describe him, but for entirely different reasons.

He’s firm and stern. Now, in this position, he’s big on following protocol. Following the rules is what has to be done. Following rules and respecting the chain of authority is essential to keeping everyone safe. Before, he didn’t care about rules, but he had high standards of performance.

He’s cold. Before, he was cold to distance you from him. Now he’s cold as if letting someone in might break him. Like you might warm him from the inside out and he might not be able to withstand the heat. Letting someone in might lead to a complete meltdown.

Despite the icy exterior he puts on, you see small glimpses of warmth and care. Care for his team, especially. He’s patient with Garcia. He indulges her quirks. He’s firm with Reid because if not he gets sidetracked pretty quickly. But he’s also gentle with him. He doesn’t cut him off or guide him back on track in a rude manner. He knows when the job is overwhelming for JJ. She fields so many cases, being forced to decide which people most need the help. Every single day this week, you’ve seen them both hunched over his desk pouring over yet another armful of files. He reassures her that they’ve made the right decisions.

So you don’t know if you hate him. You don’t know him. That’s the problem.

By the time you get to your apartment, both the mental and physical exhaustion have finally caught up to you. You open your mailbox, pulling out the mail that’s been accumulating over the past few days. You sort through it quickly, most junk mail and bills. You get to the top of the stairs and unlock your door pushing through and you see a small envelope at the bottom of the handful. There’s no return address, just your name scrawled across the front in almost illegible handwriting.

You furrow your brows, dropping your bags by the door, kicking off your shoes, and walking into your kitchen as you tear at the envelope. As you do, a small square photograph falls out. You reach in for the other small slip of paper. Your heart sinks and you feel a sick sense growing in the pit of your stomach.

On the small paper, in the same scrawl as the front of the envelope: I’m still out there.

You bend down for the photograph that fell. It’s a picture of Hotch, his suit jacket blowing open slightly in the wind. He has his phone in his clutches, pressing it up to his ear. He’s got his briefcase under one arm and a tray of coffee in that hand. You look a little closer and notice the pattern on the tie he’s wearing in the photo… the photo was taken today. You flip over the photo, to see a second and final note.

This is between you and me. Break any of my rules, tell anyone about this, and he dies.

Chapter 14: II.III →

Tag list: @wanniiieeee​ @art-and-thoughts​

[supercorpkid]

Lena Luthor is your lab partner.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2215.

“Welcome Miss Luthor-Danvers.” Aly, the receptionist of L Corp, gives you a warm welcome.

“Hey, Aly. Can you call upstairs and let my mom know that I’m here?” You smile and she immediately does what you asked.

“She’s going to meet you here.” Aly says and you nod. You play on your phone while you wait. Lena asked you to go to L Corp after school. You don’t know exactly what she wants, but you rescheduled your training session with Nia and went there hoping she would say something about your anti-kryptonite force field prototype. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for you to see Lena coming your way.

Every time you see your mom at work you get so impressed. She’s so well-dressed and put together. And she looks like a boss bitch with this black dress. She smiles at you and hugs you as soon as she reaches you.

“So glad you came, baby. I have a surprise for you.” Lena says and starts walking, shooting you a look for you to follow her.

“A surprise for me? It isn’t my birthday yet.” You say catching up to her.

“Not that kind of surprise.” You go into the elevator with her and she presses a button to go underground.

“I’ll be very surprised if you say that the prototype worked.” You turn to her expectantly. She promised she would test it for you, but she hasn’t given you any clue if it works yet.

“It will work, I’m sure. With a brain like yours, you can make anything.” What she really meant to say was that it didn’t work. You’re finally understanding the things your moms say between the lines.

Lena opens one door to a lab and you walk in. Everything is so new it smells like it. It’s full of equipment and there is a lot of technology you only dreamt about. It’s amazing, the best thing your eyes have ever seen.

“So?” Lena smiles at you and you look at her. “What d’you think?”

“It’s great!” You look around and everything is so perfectly placed, you can’t find anywhere to put your backpack. You also don’t want to touch anything before her. “Where can I put my bag?”

“Anywhere you’d like. It’s yours.” She says with a hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“The lab, babygirl. It’s yours.” She repeats and you stand there with no reaction. Wait, huh? “Oh, you’re going to need this.” She gives you an access card. “And this.” And then she gives you a L Corp id, and there’s your picture and your name in it.

“Wait.” You look at your smiling face in the picture and then around. “Do I work here now?”

“No. Well, yes, but only because I needed to hire you to give you your own lab.”

“Are you serious?” She agrees with her head. “Mom, that’s so cool! Am I gonna get paid?”

“Absolutely not.” She says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

You drop your backpack close to the door and you go inside to explore the lab. There’s literally everything that you might need. That means no more going around the house and picking up remote controls and old cameras. You’re absolutely awed by the whole thing, and Lena keeps looking at you and chuckling to herself.

“Wow. Thanks mom! This is the coolest thing you’ve ever given me.” You go back to where she’s standing so you can hold her tight. “It’s the best thing anyone has ever given me.”

“Oh.” She smiles from ear to ear. “I’m glad you liked it. Do you mind telling Kara this? She’s always bragging about the necklace.”

“Well, the necklace is also pretty great.” You hold it in your hand and smile at her. “Even though you tampered it.”

“I did no such thing.” You raise an eyebrow and she shrugs. “It’s a microchip, you can take it off in your sleep if you want to. But please don’t.”

“You know I can just take off the necklace now that I know about it and like, run away, right?”

“Why would you run away?” She asks a little worried and you smile so you can ease her mind.

“I’m kidding mom, I mean, I just got my own lab!” You open your arms with the biggest smile on your face and she smiles back at you, looking genuinely happy. “Shall we get to work?”

“I thought you would never ask.” She says going to the computers to show you the results she got with the kryptonites.

Apparently, the force field held his own with the green kryptonite for a few minutes, but didn’t work with the other ones. You and Lena both work in different computers, you’re running some tests, and perfecting your calculations. At one point, you both look at each other at the same time.

“Maybe…”

“I think…”

“You first.” She points at you and you turn your computer screen so she can see it.

“Maybe the bracelet wasn’t a good idea. I’m looking at the shape and…” You start saying and Lena smiles. “What?”

“The bracelet wasn’t a good idea.” She turns her computer screen at you and it’s your turn to smile. “Guess we had the same idea.”

“Well, I do have your brain, don’t I?” You smile and Lena is also static to confirm this. “So, I was thinking, maybe in the belt?”

“That’s good. It covers more areas. It should work.” You both get up at the same time and go around the room collecting everything that you might need. Lena’s phone rings at the moment, and you pretend you can’t hear the entire conversation, and focus on the things in front of you. She hangs up the phone and looks at you. “Baby, I…”

“Yeah, meeting.” You look at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll start on the prototype and you come back whenever you can, ok?”

“Great.” She kisses your cheek and smiles. “Just don’t leave without me.”

“I won’t.” You smile back and she goes to the door. You go back to the tablet in front of you and start simulating with the new shape. Your hands go insane in it, and you’re not even using your super speed, you’re just really excited. In the corner of your eyes, you see Lena standing by the door with a smile. “Mom, don’t you have a meeting to go to?”

“Sorry, yeah I… Was just looking at my baby working.” She says and you turn your face at her. “Kara was wrong. You look just like me.”

“Ok, you two have to stop competing over this kind of stuff.” You laugh and she joins in. “And we both know I look just like momma when she was young.”

“How dare you.” Lena says with a smile still playing on her lips. She finally opens the door to leave. “You are amazing.”

“Are you saying this because I look just like you while working?”

“Obviously.” She laughs and actually leaves.

You are left all alone and you work on the anti-kryptonite belt. You try to make it look just like the one in Kara’ suit. You’re so entertained with the new project you don’t even realize Lena was gone for three hours. You also almost didn’t notice she had returned either, and you only did because you smelled food and your stomach growled.

“I brought Belly Burgers.” She puts some fries in front of you and you’re instantly filled with happiness.

“Rao, you’re the best lab partner ever!” You shove so many French fries in your mouth it’s hard to chew. Lena frowns at that, but decides to ignore it.

“How are we going?” She looks at the belt in front of you. “Oh, you already finished it?”

“Actually…” You go to the other side of the table and grab a box. “I made a few.”

You then proceed to put another four prototypes on the table. Lena’s mouth drops and she looks absolutely in shock.

“This one’s just like Supergirl’s.” You point at a golden one. “And I made a similar one but in silver for myself.” You point at it. “This one’s for Superboy.” You point to another. “And Superman.” And another.

“Wait, you made five… Who’s the last one for?” She grabs the one closer to her and looks at it. “It looks like the Superboy one.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure Conner will break his in like, days, so I’m making him another one.” You come back to her. “But you’re back for the most important part. Let’s see if it works with the new shape and with a different calculation. You have to test it.”

“Don’t you want to do that tomorrow? It’s really late.” Lena says and you furrow your brows.

“Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t want to break in here in the middle of the night and test it myself.”

“Ok. First, you don’t have to break in.” She points at your id. “Second, I would never let you expose yourself to kryptonites, so I’m obviously joking.” You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep either.”

“Ok, go on.” You push her out of your lab, but before leaving she turns back to you.

“Hey, you know it’s a very difficult project, so if it doesn’t work, don’t be discouraged.” She touches your face.

“I know. Just go, please. You’re killing me.” You say and she chuckles, actually leaving this time.

Whilst she tests your prototype, you eat the burgers she brought you. You didn’t realize you were hungry until now. Kara calls you while you wait.

“Hey kid, it’s pretty late. Where are you?”

“At work.”

“What? Kid, stop joking. Where are you?”

“I’m not joking! L Corp hired me, ok? I have my own lab, and an access card.”

“Wait! Are you serious? Your own lab? Can I visit?”

“Sure. You can even eat my leftover fries.”

“Don’t even joke about fries. I’m on my way.”

It doesn’t take long until you hear a knock on the door. It’s obviously not Lena yet, because she has her own card. You open the door and Kara walks in impressed.

“She didn’t actually give you this lab.”

“Oh, but she did.” You give her the biggest smile.

“Dammit Lena, I can’t compete with this.” She mumbles and you laugh. Kara sees her belt at the other side of the table. She doesn’t even ask about it, she just runs to it and picks it up, putting it on.

“What are you doing?” You ask holding her arm when she mentions leaving the lab.

“We have to test it!” She smiles.

“Mom is doing that for me.”

“But Lena’s not Kryptonian. The only way we can be sure is if I try.” Kara resumes walking and you keep pulling her back.

“No way, you’re not going in there! What if it doesn’t work? Momma, please. No!”

“It’s going to work.” Her voice is sure. It leaves no margin for you to think she is not very confident in you and your work. But you’re not.

“It didn’t work the last time.” You hold her tightly. “Please, please. I can’t go through that again. Please.”

“It’s ok, baby.” She holds you back and stops trying to walk. She knows what you’re talking about, so she kisses the top of your head to reassure you. “I won’t go. But I’m sure it will work. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“I heard that!” Lena says coming inside the lab and you and Kara both look at her expectantly. “When did Kara get here?”

“Who cares! What happened? Did it work?” You ask and Lena bites her lips and furrows her brows. Your face drops. “Oh, no. It didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, little one.” Kara holds tightly again, but you let go of her and go back at the table grabbing the tablet.

“It’s ok, I just have to change the capacitor, and like, maybe the solar ce-”

“Baby!” Lena makes you stop talking and you look at her. “Who said it didn’t work?”

“Your face!”

“I was joking.” Lena goes to you and hands you the prototype. “It works! Even with the Harun-El. It held up long enough.”

“It did?” You’re almost jumping when she agrees with a smile. You jump excitedly and Kara does the same. Lena is not really jumping, you don’t think she could even if she wanted, not with those shoes anyways, but she still looks impressed and so proud of you.

“You know what? You are the smartest person I know.” Lena says joining the hug and you feel like you can fly. You can’t believe it worked. You’ll be able to protect Kara, Superboy, your uncle and even yourself! This is the happiest you’ve ever been.

“Honestly, I think I should get paid.” You say after the hug.

“No.”

“Well, you should at least increase my allowance then.”

“It seems fair.” Kara adds and Lena rolls her eyes.

“I’ll consider it.” She says grabbing her things so you all can go home. You follow her to the door and grab your backpack.

“It’s totally happening.” Kara whispers in your ear and you smile. This is, honestly, the best day you had in months.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Cobra Hybrid! Yukhei/ fighter AU

Warnings: pussy eating, breeding kink, competitive fighting, bl**d, mentions of open wounds, eagle hybrid Xiaojun, scorpion hybrid Hendery, minor mentions of getting high, angst, mentions of near death experiences, fluff bc Xuxi loves u an unhealthy amount

The sky outside of your bedrooms hopper window is scattered with rich hues of deep violet and burgundy, a sight that is too captivating to not sit and admire for at least a moment while your food cools off on your beside table.

You've always been particular about the temperature, needing it hot enough to burn your palms but not the surface of your tongue.

You smile warmly to yourself as you think of Yukhei, the way he can practically scarf anything down no matter the heat. You've had to physically stop him from inhaling piping hot ramen quite a few times, though he never listens. "Its okay, promise!I like when it's hot!"

Stubborn boy.

The colors above seem to dissipate by the second into shades that better suit the nighttime hour, not even a quarter of the sun peeking from below the horizon as the city below continues to buzz with work commutes, or perhaps lovers that are eager to be in the same space their partners occupy.

You sigh ruefully, knowing that it's just your suboncious missing a certain doe eyed, raven haired boy.

It hasn't even been two days since you last saw eachother, the navy blue sweatshirt that he wore over still hanging off the corner of your dresser, the scent of patchouli and cedarwood clinging to the fabric.

Your fingers reach out to undo the latch that keeps your window closed, the cool, dusk air gentle against your cheeks.

You know you shouldn't worry about him, he's with Hendery and Xiaojun and the others and they're all celebrating YangYang's birthday in his uncles house near Shenzhen.

At least that's what his last message said, and truly, you're not one to be overly nosey or obsessive. But the thought of Yukhei, your Yukhei, back in that poisonous red ring with barbarous eyes latched onto his body, eager for his blood to spill across the white floor-

You feel your throat tighten at the thought, eyes closing as you inhale through your nose, the air not as thick with smog this time of year and allowing for at least somewhat of a peace of mind. 

You find the juxtaposition to the outside world, and the world that lies below the boutiques and indie music shops and niche cafes, to be sardonically humorous.

It makes sense, strangely, that the evil and greed that people possess would no doubt be thrumming with a life of its own in the hybrid world, even more so than that of the human world, sometimes.

And for hybrids like Yukhei, the ones with a little more strength, a little more aggression once the animal that coexists with their dna is provoked, for a king cobra; merchants practically frothed at the mouth when your boyfriend put himself up for rivalry.

It was the last thing he ever wanted to do, and not just because the clubs usually smelled of dry blood and spit among other noxious substances, or because of the fact that his body felt as if it had been hit by a train every morning when he awoke.

It's because of how you sobbed when you found out. Your eyes and nose raw with the fury in which you had rubbed them, your body shaking. It hurt more than anything, more than a fierce kick to the jaw or a pair of canines ripping into the flesh of his shoulder.

It was agoninzing, almost more so than the fact that he had to do it in order to pay off some stupid, futile debt that he owed.

It was a nefarious fox hybrid who helped him out of an almost brawl at a club downtown during the time he worked there, fixing drinks sometimes, or lending a hand in securing the canvas and apron that was needed for the fighting ring.

It was easy work for him, and he needed the money if he wanted to get through school by even a little, but the people who occupy spaces like that, they weren't too keen on a snake hybrid being allowed in during daytime hours; helping or not.

It was just a bigheaded bull, a new bartender who caught a glimpse of the few iridescent scales that gleamed acrosss the expanse of his shoulder blade, and before he could even smell the unprompted vexation wafting off of the hulking man- he was thrown across the room.

He was nearly impaled on the bar top, nearly. Though the fox jumped in almost too eagerly after the bull busted your boyfriend's top lip open, introducing himself as the owner and kicking the aggressor off of Yukhei after professing his status.

As far as the story goes, the owner was still quite upset at the fact that two bottles of expensive liquor had been busted and wasted in the whole debacle, news to Yukhei since he had been, well, fearing for the safety of his face due to the close proximity of six inch horns.

So, it was lose a decent job and have no other options left as such a reclusive breed, or use his strengths to his advantage.

You shudder everytime you think of the ladder. Nothing prepared you for hearing that from Xiaojun's mouth, for seeing him look so weak, so close to the brink of deterioration. He looked broken.

Your noodles are cold now, and you curse yourself for allowing your thoughts to wander off to a place so unnecessary to revisit.

You're too tired to heat them back up, moving from your window sill to your quaint, welcoming bed. You peel the thick comforter back and nestle yourself into the warmth, grabbing your old (but still functioning) laptop in hopes of finding something new to watch on netflix. You have too much of a habitual personality to start a new t.v. show, but a movie might suffice.

It's hard to focus your attention elsewhere, to not to think of him. He's the type of person that you can't ever get used to seeing upclose, so effortlessly beautiful it's almost painful, an ache in the pit of your chest.

Maybe that's silly to say, but it's not jusy because you're sickeningly in love with him. It's this force that he carries with him, like he's made of pure, raw sunlight.

You close your eyes for a moment, picturing the way his plush lips feel against yours when he smiles into a kiss, noses touching and giggles resonating in his throat as you play with the wild strands of his perpetually fluffy hair.

You think of all the things that make him inherently him. His hands, the way they always seem to be steady and gentle, elegant, despite their size. Even when he caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles, it's featherlight.

It's in his nature to be so agile, so stealthy in his movements. You sometimes forget he's a snake hybrid at all, his outside appearance similar to a lion shifter, or a wolf.

It's probably the most unobvious thing about him, unless he were to take his clothes off and reveal the miscellaneous littering of scales across his broad back and shoulders.

They're similar to his eyes in the way that they're usually onyx until they glimmer under light, ranging from shades of dazzling silver to veridian. You think of the way he hums in satisfaction everytime you run your fingertips along the surface, eyes captivated with wonder.

You jolt in surprise as your phone rings obnoxiously loud, your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the prospect of your pleasant thoughts being so rudely interrupted. Your indignation vanishes when you see the caller ID.

Hendery 🦂 is calling...

"Hello?" Your voice is neutral for the most part, the rational side of your mind trying not to panick so suddenly.

That doesn't last long once you hear the troubled pang in the hybrids voice, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up.

"Hey, uh- I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry to have to- look Yukhei is hurt-" You're sure all the blood in your body has suddenly been drained, stomach twisting as the words fly from Hendery's mouth. "We can't go to the hospital, Yangyang isn't with us and-"

This can't be happening. Not again. Who lied? Did they all lie?

"Is it the same club?" The stillness in your voice is unsettling, though you're pretty sure you might be going into shock at this point. You can't feel your limbs properly.

"Yes." He replies bleakly, and your fingers tremble as they end the call.

It's like you knew, you always know. There's something about being with Yukhei that has given you a sort of second sense, it's like knowing when a step is missing and you're about to trip.

You know you're going well over the speed limit, skin pulled fiercly over your knuckles with the force in which you're gripping the steering wheel. You're only aware you're crying when streaks of warmth cascade down your cheeks and soak into Yukhei's sweatshirt that you threw on before leaving.

You never wanted to be back here, navigating the slim dark streets to find that familiar, seemingly abandoned building with a simple red logo spray painted on the side. It can only be understood by hybrids, humans not able to translate.

The building is tucked so far back behind the city, it makes for an incredibly unpleasant journey, along with an already unpleasant destination. It's a dark corner in a place full of light. It's the door to a shadow world, to the creatures that find comfort in malice and anguish.

You're surprised you've arrived so fast, not even aware of the strange, curious glances you've been getting by passerbys. No doubt wondering what a little human girl is doing in one of the most dangerous, underground parts of the city.

But they can't touch you, not legally anyways. It's forbidden for hybrids to harm humans, and none of them would dare risk exposing their little side show for a taste of a mundane.

It's Xiaojun you spot first, his conspicuous head of nearly white hair sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the darkness of the alleyway. It's only as you approach that you can see he's slumped under the weight of Yukhei, who's figure is akin to a wilting flower.

You feel your stomach lurch, though adrenaline is what drives you to throw yourself out of the car like a madman, leaving the door open and all to run to his side. You share a brief glance with a wide eyed Hendery, gesturing towards the car as your knees scrape fiercly against the pavement.

You almost don't want to look at him completely, gaze set on Xiaojun as you round to the other side and slip yourself underneath Yukhei's heavy arm. You can't, however, ignore the blood that sticks to your skin, nor the scent of it clinging to him. He murmurs your name with a strained cry, your knees wobbling.

It's a complete blur, happening in what you guess is only about two to three minutes. Yukhei slurs his words as you and the blonde haired hybrid hoist him up with all your strength, agonized groans bellowing from his throat while you move him to the back seat.

You help to manuever his long legs into the car, every bruised, wounded, and bloody part of him visible now underneath the light above your heads. It's even worse than before. How can it be worse?

You throw yourself in beside him, Xiaojun slamming the door shut before he sprints to the passengers seat, Hendery hitting the throttle as soon as everyone is secure inside the vehicle.

You turn to your boyfriend, your love. You have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, terrified to accidentally skim past a laceration. You whisper his name into the darkness, hoping that he'll answer and that he won't disappear before your very eyes.

Getting him inside of their apartment complex isn't easy. And not just because it takes two of you to carry him, his body too weak to do much of anything; it's mostly because carrying a half dead looking hybrid to an elevator isn't really the most optimal option.

Luckily Hendery knows how to pick the lock to the fire escape hatch in the back of the complex, allowing the four of you to somewhat subliminally carry him up two flights of stairs before finally arriving at apartment 236.

Not the essiest thing you've ever done. But none of that matters, nothing matters right now except for him.

"Couch!" Xiaojun yells, Hendery two steps ahead of him, pushing the old coffee table in the center of the livingroom to the far right corner.

Yukhei stammers before you both set him onto the piece of furniture as gently as you can, a choked whimper being the only sound he can make. It's even worse in this light, all the shared meals and nights binge watching movies suddenly lightyears away. Now this room is tainted with the sight of him falling apart.

"What do we do? Oh god, what do we do?" You speak through a broken sob, on your knees next to your boyfriends limp figure, his long limbs hanging off the side of the couch while his head struggles to stay upright.

You don't even realize Hendery has ran off until he is jogging back with a first aid kit that probably won't do any good, not in this situation. He reads the uncertainty and disbelief in your expression, quickly rebuttling.

"Venom, we need his venom," He and Xiaojun share a look that you don't quite understand, but you're too overwhemled to question it right now. "We just need to clean him up first, as best as we can."

He hands you a warm, damp washcloth and you are quick to bring it to Yukhei's face, the only place that isn't too damaged to touch and somewhat tamper with. His swollen eyes struggle to stay open, but once your hand caresses his sweltering cheek, he uses all of the strength he has to mutter your name.

"I'm so- sorry, you don't...you don't under..understand."

You place a gentle finger to his busted lips, pulling back immediately as his eyebrows furrow and he winces, not yet aware of the two others pouring some sort of unfamiliar disinfectant onto the open wounds.

"Shh, not right now. We gotta get you fixed up, okay? It's gonna be alright."

The words are probably more comforting to yourself, though nothing is comfortable at a time like this. Everything is happening so fast, Hendery gently pushing you to the side and whispering something to Yukhei that is inaudible to your human ears.

He nods weakly, and you can't hide your horror nor contain the frightening gasp that escapes your throat when Xiaojun approaches and bares his claws, shoving them into your boyfriends side.

You're frozen in place, time stopping for a an infinite moment as you sit and watch what's unfolding. Hendery muffles Yukhei's agonized shout initially, removing his hand when he realizes that the cobras fangs have been ejected.

He holds a vile up to his mouth, puncturing the top open with the sharp edge of his tooth, allowing the sticky clear venom to drip down into the glass container. You've never seen Yukhei's fangs before, mostly because snake hybrids and cobras alike aren't one to use them unless absolutely necessary.

Life or death.

It happens quick, Xiaojun with a needle inbetween his deft fingers, likely from the inconspicuous looking first aid kit, pulling the venom through the syringe before handing it to Hendery to inject into your boyfriends carotid artery.

His body stiffens as if he's gone into shock, veins protruding from his skin and pulsing like his heart beat has gone past the safe amount of BPM.

And then, he's still, so still it feels like you're getting a glimpse of what it's like to lose him, and you still can't find the strength of the willpower to move.

"He'll be okay, I promise,"

Hendery is by your side in an instant, panting as perspiration drips from his forehead. "He just needs to rest, he's the only type of hybrid who can use his own venom as a healing agent."

It feels like you've stepped into a different dimension, like somehow now is the time that your brain finally begins to over process the fact that none of these boys are human and that monsters really do exist.

They're not the monsters. You're not bothered by their otherworldy state of being in the slightest, but there's something in the way that they speak that makes it seem as though you're missing a vital detail, like a page ripped straight from the spine of a book. A page that could very well determine the entire stories fate.

"Where's Yangyang? And the birthday?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, incredulity in your tone.

He and the blonde haired eagle look guilty beyond belief, hesitancy in their eyes. The anger that boils inside of you, starting from your toes and rising to your ears, pushes you to stand to your feet and move past them to where Yukhei lies.

Theur admittance to whatever the fuck is going on, can come later. You don't trust yourself right now anyways, too angry, too overcome with grief to yell or shout or throw things in the way you wish to.

You sit by his side, and reach out to brush his tousled hair out from in front of his scraped forehead, examining the violet and burgundy hues that blooms from underneath his honey colored skin.

"I love you, I'll always be here."

You whisper, lying your head against the cushion next to his, exhaustion suddenly clouding your brain and allowing you to forget, just for a second, that you almost lost him.

The sunlight burns red from behind your eyelids, last nights events not yet in the forefront of your brain until you hear the low timbre of voices from the other room, haunting images forcing you awake.

You sit up too fast, head pounding from the restless sleep you've endured. You realize you're in someones bed when you kick off a familiar pair of black sheets from your feet, the setting around you like a second home. Yukhei's room. Someone must have carried you here during the night.

You're quicker and more eager than you've ever been in the morning, feet carrying you towsrds the half open door as you practically sprint into the livingroom, expecting to see him lying there as immobile as he was last night; preparing yourself for the worst.

But you don't see anyone on the couch, in fact. It takes you a moment to register that everyone is in the kitchen, huddled around the island. You're too beside yourself to realize that the broad, tan back that's facing you belongs to him, until he turns around.

You don't get a good look at his face, already smashing yourself against his chest with a force that doesn't even budge him. You gasp suddenly, recoiling in fear as you step away, terrified that you've hurt him.

His long arms are still open expectantly, doe eyes glossy as he stares back at you in confusion, your expression as shocked as it is dubious. He's healed. Well, not completely. Your fingers trace over the scabs that have formed where gashes and lacerations once were just hours before.

He pulls you to him again by your elbows, and you look up at him through wet lashes to see that the bruises are no longer a severe shade of purple and blue, only slightly yellow.

It doesn't take many more glances before you're forcing yourself up onto your tippytoes, grasping his cheeks in your palms and pressing your mouth against his.

His arms enclasp you fiercly, nearly making it hard to breathe but you don't care, not at all. Not when he's whole and alive and smells like himself again, not when he's kissing you like it's been years since you've last seen eachother.

When you part you realize that Yangyang and Kun are here, and the confusion that you harbored last night for their actions and secret glances, has you reluctantly pulling away from the embrace of your lover.

You see it now, the fear and worry that colors his expression. All of their expressions. Your eyes are suddenly fierce, fists clenching by your sides as your nails form crescents into the flesh of your palms.

"Someone better tell me what the everliving fuck is going on and why this happened again," You've never been so furious, have never lashed out as anyone as angrily as you are right now.

"A birthday party? Really? That's the excuse you came up with?!" Yukhei hangs his head in shame, knowing that it's in all of their best interest to let you finish. It's only fair.

"And you all knew, every single one of you let him walk into that ring again, every single one of you were okay with letting him die!" Your voice rises an octave, fresh tears now springing from your tired eyes.

"And I know there's something more, you're all shit liars. I just don't know what's going on and I dont know why, I just need to know why?" You sound defeated this time, covering your face in your hands as the cobra cradles your head against his chest.

You're too weak to pull away, too run dry to sob any longer.

Kun is the first to speak.

"His venom, it's-" You can only guess that someone glares at him, Hendery murmuring to his elder to let Yukhei tell you himself.

You finally glance up, meeting the teary eyed gaze of the man you love, who looks as terrified as he does stricken with unidentifiable emotions. He's silent as he deliberates with himself mentally, looking over his shoulder and nodding to the group in a silent understanding, before gently guiding you towards his room.

Venom, money, high.

These words echo in your brain as you sit across from Yukhei on his bed, his eyes too scared to meet yours as he finally finishes his explanation.

It's the whole hearted truth, as painful as it is to admit to the one person in this world who he so desperately wants to protect. But it had to be done, for your sake and for his.

"So the drinks you were making, they were filled with your venom...and people drank it willingly?"

You're still struggling to understand, no anger or shame laced in your voice as he expected, though it still doesn't lighten the indescribable weight that sits on his chest. He swallows.

"It's like...it's like a high for some people, or like being drunk but to an extreme, euphoric level," He anxiously picks at the skin beside his nail beds.

"The fox knew he could profit off of it, but it's still taboo. He was my employer and could easily pass me off as a crooked cobra hybrid who was sneaking my venom into drinks for secret cash. So he told me if I wanted to stop, for good, I had the chance to get my get out of jail free card during the upcoming fight,"

Your heart feels as if it might rip through your shirt, the pain and obvious regret in his voice tangible. It all makes since bow, though, in hindsight. Though you still don't understand why the others were so involved.

As if he read your mind, he continues.

"And Hendery, Xiaojun...they were just protecting me. They'd wait and make sure that I left the club everynight unharmed, and they knew the cost of confronting the fox. Hendery's venom as a scorpion is lethal, so he couldn't get involved for obvious reasons. They weren't happy or okay with any of it, I just didn't have a choice."

You suddenly feel like the guilty one now, chest heavy as the pieces of the gigantic, horrifying, and confusing puzzle finally come together.

It's alot to take it, more than you were prepared for. And your anger isn't directed at them anymore, in fact wvery ounce of fire that had been raging inside of you burns at the idea of that stupid fucking fox doing all of this for cash.

Sensing that he's still worried you're upset, you reach out to grab his fidgeting hands, his chin lifting only slightly as to peer at you through his dark lashes.

When you crawl over to him and on his lap, he looks dumbfounded. Even more so as you kiss him gently, softer than a rose petal as your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, I'm so so sorry." Tears slip past your waterline before you can contain them and he kisses them away just as quickly, voice incredulous.

"Baby no, don't apologize, ever," He lifts your face to his, eyes wide and full of reverie. "I'm okay, I'm okay because you were there and I promise with my entire heart and soul to never get wrapped up in that shit ever again, ever."

You kiss him again, the taste of tears not bothering either of you. You just need to feel him, to remind yourself that he's not going anywhere. You can't shake the thought of how he looked last night.

"I almost lost you, Yukhei you...I thought I'd wake up and you'd be gone and I'd never get to kiss you again or hear your laugh," He's crying now, too, silently as he closes his eyes and you bury your face against his neck. His hands cradle you as if he has the entire world in his grasp.

"Shh I'm here, m'not going anywhere baby. I'll stay forever with you."

And he means it to his very core, feels it in his bones, solidifed as you kiss him again and again like he suplies the air in your lungs. You're both so in love with every fiber of your being, so enraptured in the feeling of one another.

When you push at his chest to silently ask him to lie down, he's quick to assert who's taking care of who, eagerly gripping your soft waist and letting your back fall against his mattress.

"My sweet angel," You arch into his touch as his plush mouth nibbles the soft skin underneath your jaw, traveling across the expanse of your throat and to the sides of your neck. "Let me make you feel good, been so patient with me."

It dawns om him that you're wearing his hoodie and he swears his heart throbs in his chest, quick fingers pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the side with your shirt underneath, before continuing his descent.

He's shamless in the way he cups your breasts in his wide palms, gazing up at you through slitted eyes as his pink tongue flicks over one of the hardening buds. You reach out to touch any part of him you can, whining as he repeats the action on the opposite breast.

He wanders even further down, across every inch of your tummy, humming all the while in satisfaction at how sweet you smell between your legs, at how needily you whine for him.

He's all too excited now, pulling the shorts from your body with a force that should've ripped them in half, kissing your inner thighs sweetly but not as earnestly as he'd like. He's just too focused on the enticing sight of your glistening sex, mouth practically watering.

He doesn't wait for you to prepare yourself, digging in immediately. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in the strands as his mouth encloses around your throbbing clit, suckling before he licks a broad stripe over your folds.

"Yu-yukhei...oh!" Your thighs threaten to close around his head but he holds them open with an inescapable grip, endulging himself wholeheartedly as he slurps and licks at every drop of juice that flows from you.

It's a maddening sort of pleasure, your toes curling and belly tightening. His nose is pressed against your pubic mound as he keeps his mouth over your center, wriggling his head back and forth as his tongue flicks over your clit at an inhuman pace.

"Ah, I can't- oh fuck." You're blabbering incoherently, though it only drives him further. He relishes in the way you're writhing underneath him, the way you're so wet just for him and him only.

"Want you to cum on my tongue, can you do that for me?"

All you can do is cry out in response, bucking your hips against his mouth as he prods at your entrance with the tip of his tongue. You're so close it's humiliating, but he's elated, already sensing your orgasm in the way your walls throb and pulse with every lick to your bud.

The sounds are so nasty, so lewd in the way your wetness combined with his saliva is so audible in the small room.

You cum without a warning, not being able to speak or do much of anything except jerk and twitch as he keeps his mouth on you, unrelenting in his determination to taste your release.

You whimper.

"Fuck me, please Xuxi p-please."

You beg softly, with half lidded eyes and he reluctantly lifts himself from your center with dark yet gentle eyes, mouth saturated in your juices. He can't resist you.

He kisses you like this, and you don't complain one bit. Not when he's got his pants down faster than you can blink, gripping his thick shaft and rubbing the ruby hued tip of his cock against your sensitive clit.

"Want me to fill you up, huh? Want me to make you mine forever and ever."

You're unable to verbally respond when he pushes himself in, not even an ounce of friction due to a mixture of your cum and his spit coating your walls as well as the inside of your thighs. He buries himself to the hilt, your hands on his broad back.

His pace is determined but not frantic, body held up by his forearms so he can continue to kiss you while his dick spears into you. Your lips are one of his favorite parts about you, so soft, the perfect size to slot right against his.

"Yes Xuxi, want you to give me all your cum, pretty p-please."

He supresses a hiss, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you wrap your thighs around his middle, heels pressing into his lower back.

"Mm, gonna give you my babies," He doesn't miss the way your walls flutter around him, as he pulls himself almost all the way out before sheathing himself inside of you once more. "Want you to be leaking with my cum for a w-whole week."

You whimper, and it drives him mad. His hips are agile and precise as he fucks into you now, controlled and skilled. He knows exactly where your sweet spot is, exactly what has you clinging onto him for dear life.

"You're s-so big, missed your dick, missed you."

He's the one whining now, scattering wet kisses under your jaw, nibbling your earlobe. It's like no other sensation, being together like this. You can't tell where he ends and you begin, all you can do is feel.

"You like my big dick, hmm? Want me to stuff that pretty pussy full." His words are filthy, but his candence is sweet like honey, earnest in the way his voice trembles. He's just as high on pleasure as you are.

"Please, please, yes."

His thrusts become harsher in the way he fucks back into you, reaching past your cervix. Your fingers bury themselves into the dark strands of his hair as quiet whimpers bubble from your throat, senses overwhelmed with Yukhei Yukhei Yukhei.

It doesn't help that he's so vocal in your ear, the deep timber of his groans sending chills down your spine and causing your belly to fill with heat, spreading throughout your limbs like wildfire.

It's not just fucking, this feels like what making love really is. It's a reunion in more ways than one, a solidification of your bond. You wish it could last forever, the scent of his skin, the softness of it. You can feel every muscle in his body strained with the strength he uses to please you, to reach depths that have your toes curling.

When you turn your head to kiss the skin just below his ear, his hips falter.

"Oooooh, shit baby m'gonna cum, fuck."

You pull his face from your shoulder to smash his lips against yours, cradling his face as he cups the back of your neck. His tongue slips inside your mouth, and you purposely squeeze your walls around his length.

He mewls, cursing under his breath. "Cum for me, please Yukhei," He's looking right into your eyes, lips kiss bitten, skin flushed. "Make sure you give me every last drop."

He's done for, hair sticking to his forehead, a broken groan straining to leave his throat as he pushes himself as deep as possible, both of you watching each others expression in the process.

"I love you I love you I love you." He chants, while spurts of his cum paint your walls white. You unravel when you look down between your bodies for a fleeting moment, catching a glimpse of the amount he's released as he disappears inside of you over and over again.

He kisses your face as you struggle to grasp onto him, the pleasure too much to handle, physically and emotionally. It has tears springing from your eyes, nails digging into his biceps as he continues to fuck you through it.

"I love you too, I love you so much." You finally reply, finding the strength to speak no matter how slurred and sleepy it might sound.

He smiles warmly with irrevocable adoration, eyes crinkling at the corners. He strokes your cheek with the soft pad of his thumb, leaning down to peck your nose, and then your forehead, and then your eyelids.

"You have my entire heart," He professes. "I'll always be here."

"Guess I saw that cumming."

Xiajun glares at Hendery.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Safe Haven, part 1

(this is the continuation of 12C!)

12C: Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6 |   Part 7 |   Part 8 |   Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |

Tag List: @deluxewhump @whumpinggrounds @yet-another-heathen   @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  @killtheprotagonist @kixngiggles

Content Warnings:  immortal whumpee, lady whumpee, references to captivity and lab whump, malnutrition, dehydration, exhaustion, escape, caretaking, implied trauma, implied nudity

Author’s Notes: I really really hope you guys enjoy this one...I hope it’s as cathartic to read as it was to write. :)

I decided to start this next bit under a new title. The parts for the last one were getting excessive, and also this way even if my plans for the rest of it don’t work out, 12C is a complete thought.

As for the ‘escape plan’, I had more details of it in my mind but as I was writing it they felt...boring? So I cut the crap and kept it simple. Just trust that there was a plan and I’m just not a good enough writer to make it interesting. Besides, I wanted to get to the cute shit. :))

----

“You’re sure you know the plan?”

“Yes.”

“And...you’re sure you’re strong enough?”

“...I have to be.”

“That isn’t a yes.”

A huff lacking any real frustration. “Yes, Liv.”

“Okay. Two nights from now. Hang in there.”

----

The wheels of Liv’s cart are loud as they roll down the empty hallway, muffling out her sneakered footsteps. The sound also muffles her half-full water bottle falling from one of the shelves with a smack, and even if it weren’t for the cart, she’s got her headphones on, music turned up loud.

Liv comes to a stop at the door to the storage room. It’s unlocked, like always. She holds the door open with one hand and pushes her cart in halfway with the other. It’s then that she ‘notices’ her bottle down the hall, several yards away. Frustrated, she leaves the cart where it is and trudges to go pick it up.

When she returns, she only spends a couple of minutes in the storage room, restocking a few cleaning supplies so she won’t have to tomorrow. As she leaves the room and continues down the hall, she gives no indication that her cart has suddenly become heavier.

She gets into the elevator and heads upstairs to finish her final tasks of the night. This includes disposing of the garbage and hazardous waste she’s gathered throughout the night, putting utensils in a machine to be sanitized, and dumping linens from a hamper down a chute into a laundry room.

“Curl up tight,” she whispers as she tips the hamper. There’s a soft thud as more than just sheets and towels slide down the chute.

Liv finishes putting her things away, puts the papers from her clipboard in a file folder outside her manager’s door, uses the bathroom, and finally clocks out and heads to the parking garage. Calm, collected, seemingly lost in her music.

Heart pounding. Thoughts racing. Hopeful and terrified.

Her old but beloved little car sits alone on this floor of the dimly lit concrete garage. She throws her things into the passenger side before sitting heavily with a sigh in the driver’s seat. After a moment she turns on the car and begins the winding path up towards the exit.

As she rounds a bend she slows down a little...and remains slow for several moments until she hears her back door open and shut and a rustling as someone lies across the seat and burrows under a waiting blanket. She picks up her speed again, rolling down her window so she can swipe her ID card to get out.

Liv drives into the dark of night. It’s just past two in the morning, the roads empty, the traffic lights in town all blinking yellow. From the back seat she can hear weak, muffled breaths. When she looks at her rearview mirror, she can just make out the bundled heap trembling by the light of street lamps.

She waits until she’s a couple miles beyond the facility’s property before speaking, her voice hoarse from how dry her throat is.

“You okay back there?”

“...not sure,” comes Emmeline’s answer, fear and exhaustion palpable in her voice. “Do you think they saw anything?”

“If we did everything right, no...but I guess we’ll find out.”

Liv puts on an air of confident nonchalance that is so far from how she feels, but it’s for Emmeline’s sake. The risks have become so much more than a slap on the wrist. If they’re caught Liv will be fired and almost certainly arrested for theft of company ‘property’. But Emmeline...not only will she have to go back there, but she’ll be kept under such tight lock and key that any second chance of escape would be impossible, and Liv would no longer be there to even try.

This was their one shot, and all Liv can do is try to keep her panic at bay and hope they didn’t screw it up.

And take care of Emmeline, she thinks, glancing again at the mirror.

The drive home takes its predictable twenty minutes, give or take a few. Liv pulls into her spot beside a nondescript brick apartment building and shuts off her car. She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe and pull her thoughts together.

It’s quiet from the back.

“Are you awake?”

“Mmhmm…”

That translates to barely.

“Not much further...then you can rest…”

The weight of that statement is too much for Liv’s tired mind to truly process, but it still briefly occurs to her just how big it is, just what it means. For the first time in months, Emmeline can finally, truly rest.

She goes to the back seat and helps Emmeline to her feet. Emmeline remains resolutely wrapped from neck to ankles in the blanket. Despite it being the old, scratchy one Liv keeps in her car in case of emergency, to Emmeline it’s so much more than she’s been allowed.

Standing there barefoot in the parking lot, Emmeline slowly looks up at Liv, strands of limp, messy hair hanging around her face. The single light on the side of the building illuminates her drawn face and although she’s weak, malnourished, exhausted...there is a grateful reverence in her eyes that no matter what happens, Liv will never forget.

Liv swallows and pushes down the lump in her throat. “Come on,” she whispers, putting her arm around Emmeline’s blanket-clad shoulders and guiding her towards the door.

----

Her apartment is tidier than usual; Liv made sure of that, even though she’s pretty sure Emmeline won’t care. Considering where she has spent the last several months, a jail cell would seem like an upgrade. But if Liv is anything, she’s self-conscious.

Emmeline looks around, blinking blearily after having barely made it up the single flight of stairs. She’s swaying on her feet and Liv ushers her to sit on the couch before she passes out right there in the middle of the living room.

Liv is running on adrenaline and fumes at this point. It’s all too surreal, like an out of body experience. Even after long hours spent thinking and planning, she never expected to get this far. But now Emmeline is here, in her apartment, sitting on her couch. Existing outside of the lab, real and tangible.

And she needs you. Get it together.

“I know you probably want to sleep,” Liv begins. Emmeline is still looking around the room like she can’t quite believe it either. “But you haven’t eaten, so...I want to get something in you first, if that’s okay?”

“Okay,” Emmeline whispers.

Liv moves slowly to the kitchen and busies herself with preparing something light and easy: canned soup, crackers, a mug of herbal tea with honey. Like in the car, she allows herself a moment to take a few deep breaths and will her hands to stop shaking before she picks up the plastic tray and carries the food back into the living room.

Emmeline hasn’t moved an inch, not even to relax back against the couch cushions. It isn’t quite what Liv expected...but then, what did she expect? For everything to be better the moment they got here? It isn’t all going to be okay overnight, she realizes. Give her time.

“Here…” Liv sets the tray on the coffee table and sits at the edge of the couch, leaving a few inches between them, not wanting to crowd Emmeline. “Um - chicken noodle soup. Saltines. Chamomile vanilla tea.”

Emmeline blinks slowly at the items before her. “I’m not dreaming. Right?”

“I hope not. Eating canned soup in my apartment isn’t a very exciting dream.”

A faint smile appears on Emmeline’s face. “To me it is…”

Liv holds the bowl of soup while Emmeline eats small spoonfuls of it and nibbles on crackers. She only eats about half before moving on to the tea, cupping the warm mug in her hands and humming with pleasure when she takes the first sip.

“Could I - “ Emmeline begins, but stops abruptly, ducking her head and taking another sip.

“Could you…?”

“Take a shower?” she asks almost inaudibly.

“Of course you can,” Liv answers automatically. “You can have whatever you need.”

Emmeline hesitates, still so frail and uncertain. “Just that is enough...thank you…”

Strengthened by her meal, Emmeline is able to make her own way to the bathroom. Beneath the blanket she is wearing a pair of nurse’s scrubs, stolen from the laundry room at the lab just in case a glimpse of her was caught on camera, though Liv meticulously designed their plan to avoid that. She sheds the clothes and Liv bundles them and the blanket into a plastic bag to discard tomorrow.

Emmeline disappears into the bathroom and a minute later the water comes on.

Liv is left sitting on the couch, finally alone with her fears and doubts.

I can’t believe I did that…

If we get caught we’re so fucked…

Does she even want to be here?

What the hell do I do now?

She grabs the tray of dishes and hurries to the kitchen, where she actually washes them instead of pushing it off to tomorrow, just to distract herself. When that task is done too soon, she goes to change into pajamas and find something for Emmeline to wear.

She’s unfolding and refolding the clothes for the third time when the water shuts off. Just as Liv is standing to bring her the clothes, the sound of the shower curtain moving aside is followed by a cry and a loud thud.

Liv darts to the bathroom, everything else forgotten. She enters without knocking, her heart in her throat.

Emmeline is sprawled on her side on the floor, grimacing. One leg is hooked over the edge of the tub and it quickly becomes apparent that she slipped.

Not attacked. Not passed out or dead. She just fell. It’s okay. It’s okay.

At the sound of Liv entering the room, she rolls onto her back with a groan, revealing a bruise on her hip that slowly starts to heal as soon as the pressure is removed from it.

“Ow…”

“Shit...I forgot to put the bath mat in,” Liv mutters, embarrassed. No wonder Emmeline slipped. She crouches beside her and offers her arms for Emmeline to hold onto.

“Not your fault,” Emmeline answers quietly as she slowly gets to her feet. “I got dizzy…”

The moment Emmeline is standing she sways into Liv, leaning heavily against her before her legs can give out again. Liv freezes, acutely aware of the pressure of Emmeline’s body draped against hers, soft and clean, so weary, so in need of comfort.

All of those evenings Liv spent watching her suffer, wishing she could hold her, touch her gently, stroke her hair...now she has the chance, not a camera or another soul in sight, and she can’t move, can barely think. Not when Emmeline has her head tucked against Liv’s shoulder, breathing soft breaths against her neck.

Liv reaches blindly to her side until she finds a towel hanging on a hook beside the shower. She puts enough space between them to wrap it around Emmeline’s shivering form but remains close enough to steady her. By now Emmeline looks like she might fall asleep where she stands.

“Sorry,” Emmeline whispers, her drooping gaze fixed on Liv’s shirt. “I got you wet…”

“Shh. Don’t worry about it,” Liv answers quietly. “Come on…”

She guides her the final few feet into the bedroom and helps her into soft cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then she pulls back the covers - freshly washed sheets on a freshly made bed, another thing she made sure of - and motions for Emmeline to get in.

“A bed?” Emmeline breathes. She runs her fingers over the sheet with a look of wonder.

“Mmhmm,” Liv affirms, lips pressed together. She’s afraid if she opens her mouth to speak she might cry from the sudden well of emotion at finally being able to give this to Emmeline, this comfort and safety she so deserves.

Emmeline slowly lies down on the bed, letting out a long sigh of relief when her head comes to rest on the plush pillow. Liv pulls the covers over her and tucks them around her snugly. She barely resists planting a soft kiss to Emmeline’s damp hair. Barely.

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

Emmeline is already fast asleep.

[jlalafics]

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We��re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

[hyunjilicious]

The safest white - harry styles

Summary: When things with your abusive boyfriend reach a new level, Harry comes to the rescue. 5.7k Warnings: mentions of abuse. I hope you enjoy this! Please tell me what you thought! Your words make my day ❤

Never in your life had you thought you’d end up in a situation like this. Growing up, you got used to the idea of an ideal relationship, and for whatever reason, fell for the glamourized Hollywood look of the downs people went through as they fought for their partner. Real life hit you like a ton of bricks, put a cloth over your mouth and cut your legs from the knees down. Knowing you have to fight for what you want and know is right, even if faced with facts that contradicted your beliefs, you found yourself alone, screaming at nothing in the middle of a sea of darkness. Your own house. And you were screaming internally, because once again, you feared the man you used to call ‘love’. Droplets of sweat tickled your skin as they rushed down your sides, and your hands and feet, although cold, were damp too. You stood in the middle of the bedroom, facing the door. In some twisted way, you knew there was no chance for you to hide, so you stood there, ready take no more hits without hitting back. And harder. After pampering yourself with a pep talk, you ended up feeling quite confident. Confident that you’d get the fuck out of there with your head held fucking high, but it was a confidence that dissipated once the sound of your own phone ringing reached your ears. “Fuck” you mumbled to yourself, after you jumped out of fright. “No, no, no! Y/n. Get. Yourself. Together” You muttered these words through gritted teeth, repeating them over and over again, until the layer of unshed tears in your eyes became too thick and rushed down your cheeks, forcing you to fall to the ground. The impact made your knees sting, but the pain in your heart had already numbed every nerve ending in your entire body. You were at the edge of collapse, and you phone was still ringing. Wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, you crawled over to the bed and picked up your cell, only to see Harry’s smiling face on his ID photo along with the pouting emoji you added to his name. It didn’t even take a moment’s worth of consideration before you pressed the red button and declined the call. Not that you had any power left in your body to communicate with another human right now, but you also knew that if it was something important, he’d also send a text, letting you know the matter was indeed urgent. And it came. The text came about 15 seconds later in real time, but for you, it was all a haze. Again, you didn’t think about it. If you declined his call and he still insisted, something must’ve been up. 'Love, I’m stuck at the studio for at least another hour and my mum is coming over’ 'She’ll be at my house in about 20 minutes’ 'If I leave rn I’ll have to come back tomorrow and I want to spend the day with her’ 'Can you go over there’ 'Let her in and hang out or something’ 'Or if you’re busy can she come to you and wait for me there?’

No, way. There was no way you could face his mother right now. She always saw right through your bullshit. Starting with when you and Harry were 18 and started denied your feelings for one another and up until this year, when she sensed something was off with you. When you saw her 2 months ago, it took you about 3 hours to convince her nothing is wrong with you for the sole purpose of keeping Harry out of your relationship. All it took for her to notice you weren’t comfortable with your boyfriend was the way you answered a question about his whereabouts. After that, you had to make up a whole story to prove to her she didn’t need to worry. And they say actors are good liars. You felt you were going to choke with every lie to told her, and frankly, you were surprised she believed you in the end. Maybe it was just how much she trusted you. Nevertheless, you weren’t the person for the job.

You stared at the messages on your phone, and breathed out from the deepest depths of your lungs. You hated that you couldn’t help him right now, but knowing at least 3 other friends of Harry's should be available, you locked your phone and fell back down, leaning against the side of the bed. The mere thought of Harry and Anne calmed you down a bit, but when you went back to reality, another wave of misery hit you. You still had to get out of there, but opening the door to your bedroom was probably the most frightening thing on your mind. There was not much time for you to gather your thoughts and plan your next move before your phone buzzed again. 'You hung up on me. I know u can see these. Everything ok??’ Instantly, you palm connected to your forehead as you rolled your eyes in disbelief. “How did he-” you muttered, unlocking your phone, to assure him you were ok. As it turned out, your text wasn’t enough to convince him you were good, so he called. But for this, you didn’t have the power. This time you didn’t bother to hang up, you turned off your phone completely and fell down onto the carpet. The minutes that followed were excruciating. That is if there was even a matter of minutes, your sense of time wasn’t even hazy anymore, it was gone altogether. The cries you tried to muffle out of fear Jack would hear you from the other room, created an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. If up until now it was all psychological, the spasming of your abdominal muscles were sure to force out everything you hadn’t eaten in the past two days. Just gastric acid was threatening to come up, but this feeling alone wasn’t enough to get you to stand up. By now, leaving the house wasn’t the problem anymore. It was the part of you that allowed yourself to be treated like trash that you didn’t know how to get rid of. At this point, the only thing you felt like doing was cracking your own chest open to rip out your heart and pick apart the broken parts. And not even that was good enough, you were afraid you’d be left with nothing. Since there was nothing you could do right now, you slowly stood up, and decided to head to the bathroom and clean yourself up in order to sneak out of the house. Messy hair and running mascara would draw attention to yourself on the street, and that was not something you could risk. As you walked across the bedroom, when you moved past the window, your eyes landed on Jack’s frame. He was sitting at the table in the back garden, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniels that was more empty than full. As messed up as that was, this sight gave you a rush of confidence. In this state, it was highly unlikely he’d hear you leave the house, and even if he did, you were positive you’d be able to outrun him. Once in the bathroom, the woman you saw in the mirror was not you. You refused to accept that you were in this state. It was a momentary lapse of character, from which you’d bounce back. You had to. In the shower, although feeling like you could break down all over again, you forced yourself to remain on track, and about 20 minutes later, you were back in your bedroom, putting on whatever clothes you found first. You checked the window. Jack was still there, scrolling on his phone. If you played your cards right, you could leave without your eyes landing on him again. You gathered your essentials - phone, charger, wallet, keys and whatever else you found completely necessary and walked over to the door, where you stopped. “I’ll take you less than three minutes to get to your car, Y/n” you whispered to yourself. “You can do this” You mumbled these words to yourself a few times, and when you raised your hand to open the door, the knob turned by itself and your heart fell two stories down. Already in overdrive, your adrenaline kicked in, sweating out of every pore as you instinctively looked for an object to use to defend yourself. All these defence mechanisms crumbled to the ground when you heard his voice. “Y/n?” because it was Harry, “Are yeh in here? Please, answer me!” You breathed out in relief, something you didn’t know you could feel again. You rushed to unlock the door, and he hurried inside at ungodly speed. “It’s Jack, ain’t it!?” he questioned with anger filled words, “I just got off with the phone with my mum, why didn’t yeh two say anything?” “I told her it was nothing” you mumbled, trying to avoid his eyes, but the way he held onto your cheeks made it impossible for you to look at anything else. “You did, yeah.” Harry nodded with despair, “And she believed yeh and now she’s blaming herself. Tell me. What happened? Where is he?” “God” you cried out and tried to lean your head back, but Harry stopped you and prompted you to look at him again. It worsened gradually, but by now, you barely managed to breathe properly as tears cascaded down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey” he breathed out, “Look at me, love. I’m here, ok? It’s over. I’m here. I got yeh” You tried to nod, but all you did was choke a sob and collapse into yourself, Harry barely managing to catch you. Holding you tight to his chest, he rocked you in his arms and rubbed the back of your head, “Its me, love. Its Harry”. He tried to chuckle, but pain was audible in his voice too. “Nothing will happen to yeh, ok? I swear on anything that I am, yeh're safe, yeah?” You wanted to nod, but when he moved his fingers up a bit across your scalp, you winced in pain, and he caught sight of it in an instant. “Did he hit you, Y/n?” he asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. You nodded no. For whatever reason, that was what you considered was the right answer. “Don’t lie to me, angel. Yeh don’ ever have to lie to me, ok?” “Ok” you muttered. “So did he?” “Yes..” And that was then the light in his eyes died. They started shining a particular type of darkness that terrified you to your bones. You froze. Your mind was too numb to act on your emotion, but when he brought you to his chest again, you finally realised your fear was unrooted. “Where is he?” Harry groaned in a deep tone. “Please, don’t” “I just want to talk to him” he fibbed. “Harry, I’m serious-” you cried, “Don’t do anything, I don’t want this anymore. I want it to be over. What if he tries to-” “Listen t' me, angel” he said sternly, looking straight into your eyes, “You’re crying. Shaking. I’ve never seen yeh like this. Ever. Not even close. Yer whole body shivered when I touched you. That man, hurt you. I don’t even want to think about what he actually did to you right now. Yeh’re the happiest, strongest woman I met in my entire life and he managed to bring you in this state. I won’t have that, ok? I won’t sleep again if doesn’t pay for this.” “Please, Harry” you whimpered, wiping some of your tears away. You placed your hands of top of his, and grabbed them tightly, “What if he does something to you, what if-” “Think about the girl that will come after you, hm? What about her? He’ll go on with his life thinking he doesn’t need to pay for his fucking demented behaviour, and she’ll walk straight into the lions den” “What if he hurts you?” “It won’t get to that, love. I’ll just talk to him. But I have to do this. I can’t not do it, you understand that, right?” After you reluctantly agreed, mostly because he wasn’t showing signs of giving up and you didn’t have it in you to fight him at that moment, you headed downstairs and he walked you to his car. Harry opened the door for you to climb in, but before that, you pressed yourself against him again, craving his touch and the feeling of safety it provided. “Oh, love” he sighed, rubbing your back. “I got yeh” You didn’t want to let him go, but you knew you had to. Eventually, you got into his car, but turned to him before closing the door. “You’re just gonna talk to him, alright?” you sniffled, “And then you’ll be right back, yeah?” “Yes, darlin’” Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be right back” And with that, he left. You watched him walk into the house, your eyes remaining trained on his back until he was out of sight. Not knowing what was going on was driving you insane. Your phone was surely not going to provide any kind of distraction, you felt out of place, like you were sitting on a pile of nails as a train was approaching you at full speed. But there was nothing for you to do about it. Going in and joining the conversation was sure to make things worse, for all of you. It hurt that the right thing to do was sit and wait, you hated it, but you had to be patient. In need of something you keep your mind busy, you opened the glove compartment, and started rummaging through the junk that had pilled up there over the past few months. Mostly napkins, candy wrappers, McDonald’s straws, and seemingly, irrelevant stuff. Eventually, you came across some other things, like your old phone case, which you ended up discarding after you bought a new one while you were shopping with Harry for a birthday gift. There was also there a bottle of perfume, the kind you’ve been wearing for years, and in this one, there was barely anything left. Jumping jacks were taking place inside your heart. You knew Harry was the kind of guy every girl deserved in her life, but you wanted him for yourself only. It was mostly junk, and useless little things anyone would have forgotten existed, but he kept them. It didn’t take long before you got lost in thought again, but in the end, you decided to ignore any rush feelings you might be having, taking into consideration the emotional break down you have just been through. “Hey, love” Harry’s voice filled the air inside his car, as he flung the door open and climbed in in one swift motion. “Did you talk to him?” “Yeah” he said distraught and nodded, before turning around in his seat to check if it was safe to pull out. “With my fists” Your eyes snapped to his knuckles. Skin cracked and little droplets of blood peaking to the surface. However, he gripped the steering wheel as if it was nothing, and kept his smile on. What was most surprising, but actually not quite, was that he looked genuinely relieved. You sighed, “H, what happened?” “Nothing, love. I got there fuming ready to beat the guy to the pulp. But he was drunk outta his mind. I stopped then, I promise. I told him what I had to say but I doubt he understood a word I said” he confessed, grabbing your forearm and giving it a squeeze. “You said you were only gonna talk to him…” “That’s what I was planning on, I don’t- I don’t know what- anyway-” he mumbled, in between ragged breaths, “We’ll deal with it, ok? You won’t ever have to see him again. And he’s fine. He deserved so much worse, but I’m- I’m uh, I’m not-” “Thank you” you whispered, looking down at your hands, knowing any moment now the tears would come back. “Yeh don’t need to thank me, angel. I should have known sooner, this should never have happened” “I know… I’m sorry” “What’re yeh sorry about?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the road ahead, “None of this is your fault” “Then whose is it?” you exclaimed, “Hm?” “Fucking his!!” You tried to change the subject, but all you managed to do was drop this one. Nothing else held. Nothing was of interest, and even if it was, the timing was wrong. There was no way you could have started talking about what movie you just saw, and Harry clearly didn’t feel like boasting to you about what a great time he’s been having with his friends and family. Needless to say, for about 10 minutes, it was you, Harry and the sacred uncomfortable silence. “Can you drop me off at a hotel please” you asked, cringing a bit at your own words. “No, why?” He was clearly surprised, if not offended. “I- uh” you mumbled, too ashamed to use a normal tone of voice. “It’s your mum, H. I can’t see her right now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, nor do I want someone else to worry about me. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow, and I’ll come hang out. Get a coffee or something” “Is that the only reason you want to go to a hotel?” “Yeah…” “Perfect” Harry nodded, “She’s not at my place. Didn’t expect you to be in the mood for company. But you shouldn’t be by yourself. I can drop you off wherever ya want, but not if you’re gonna be alone”. He took your silence for an answer. “My place it is, then” And you got to his house, and even if you had been there millions of times before, you felt out of place. You were afraid he bought you here out of mercy or sympathy, despite what he had just said. The atmosphere was different, and for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like home. For years, his house and anywhere near him, you felt your safest, yet today, you were afraid anything you’d say or do would be out of place. “Yeh know how this works” Harry said, walking into the kitchen, “It’s your home too, don’t shy away” “I know” you chuckled, and it did sound fake and it was obvious he noticed, but none of you pointed it out. “Are you hungry? Want something to drink? Tea? We can order something-” “I’m fine, thanks though” you sighed, slowly advancing towards him. You leaned your hip against one of the counters, silently awaiting his next move. But he didn’t quite do anything, except change his expression into one of maybe confusion. This must have been hard for him too, you didn’t know what you needed to hear, how could he have possibly known what to say? “Do you wanna watch something?” you asked, wanting to relieve some of the pressure. To be fair, you were not in the mood to watch any movie, but you figured laying down next to him would be calming and an easy way to avoid unwanted conversation. “Yeah, 'course” Harry nodded. “Actually... Got any wine?” He seemed completely taken aback, but soon enough, he came back to reality, offering to get the alcohol while you picked something you wanted to watch. It wasn’t a difficult choice. Seinfeld was a sure option, since you both liked it and it required almost no concentration at all. Just as you laid down on his couch, Harry came back into the living room, two tall glasses in his hands, and a bottle of while under his arm. “Figured white wine was safer, dunno how much we’re gonna drink, and nothing is worse than a red wine hangover” “Just how drunk do you think I wanna get?” you laughed, taking the glasses from him. “As drunk as yeh want, love” Harry smiled, pulling out a corkscrew, “The choice is yours” “Just don’t let me start ranting or anything” “Yeah…” he cringed, sucking in a deep breath as he squinted his eyes, “Can’t promise yeh that. Ya know I’m a sucker fo’ yer drunken ramblings” “Oh shut up” you scoffed. “And why did you bring these?” you questioned, pointing to the glasses, “Don’t you know me at all? Or are you suddenly grossed out by my germs?” “When you put it like that, it sounds gross, yes” Harry laughed out loud, before clutching the corkscrew tight into his hand and opening up the bottle, “But still, I’d be happy to exchange germs with you” “Oh wow” “Wha'?” Harry belted, playfully offended, “Yeh started it!” “Well, it sounds so much worse when some else says it” None of you could ever win this. He came over to the couch and motioned for you to scoot over. During the first episode, you kept your distance, but as the minutes passed and as the level of wine slowly lowered, so did the space between your bodies. By the third episode, Harry was laying down on his back with his knees bent, as you leaned back against his calves. That was when you opened up the second bottle. Still white wine, still safe. Harry's words. Every now and then one of you would chuckle, and in case too much time would pass without one of you making a sound, the other would gently ask an “You asleep?” even though both your minds were way too busy to be able to relax enough to drift off. When you almost finished this bottle too, Elaine was throwing a fuss, in the middle of Jerry’s living groom over some guy she went to gym with. “He wiped his hand on the top of the bottle when I offered him water” she said offended through the TV screen, making you stand up and turn to Harry. “This is the universe, love” he laughed but instantly you shushed him, knowing what line was next. “Are you kidding?” Elaine said again, “He should be craving my germs!” And at that, you both burst into laughter. “I had no idea this was the episode” you barely managed to say in between your crazy giggles. “Is it a coincidence?” Harry smirked, “Think not!” “You’re drunk” “So are yeh!” he defended himself, as if it would change anything. “You know what else I am?” “What?” You picked up the bottle and finished whatever was left in it, and then turned to him with a proud smile on your face, “Ready for the third one” “Stand up” Harry commanded and pointed to the space right in front of the couch. “Why?” “Do three pirouettes and if yeh don’t stumble I’ll open another one” “Buzz kill” you pouted and slapped his legs, “No” “I’ll do it with you” he laughed, and when he stood up, you reluctantly did too. When he motioned for you to do the pirouettes, another smile crept up your lips, “At least put some music on if you want to see my moves” “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he laughed, walking over to his phone on the table, “Are we gonna dance in the living room like the crazy people in those sappy chick movies we used to watch?” “Why do you have to be an asshole?” you joked, leaning your head to the side. “Because-” was all he managed to say before the music turned on, making him stop talking as he silently laughed. “Why-” you exclaimed, “On Earth, were you listening to My Heart Will Go On? Is Harold in love?” “I have a good explanation!” Harry jumped to defend himself, pointing a finger at you, “I tried to learn it” “On guitar I hope” you teased. “Ha, very funny” “Oh my god, Harry!” you burst into laughter, “I’m assuming you nailed it on the first try” “Yess!” he threw his head back, cheeks all red, “Celine stand back, I’m coming for yer money” “What would it take to convince you to sing it to me?” “Sing it with me” Harry responded in an instant, and it might have been the alcohol, but it didn’t even take a second before you agreed. You both grabbed one of the empty bottles as microphones, and sang your hearts out. Even though Harry had the vocal capability to reach some of those notes and sing full verses correctly, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded right. And if you were to carefully listen to the atrocities that came out of yours, you’d feel the need to hide for a week to finally get rid of the embarrassment. But you didn’t care. And neither did he. Harry only got like this if he was in a truly good mood. He wasn't always bubbly and childish, especially not today after everything that happened, and you knew a bottle of wine wasn’t enough to awaken this side of him, but still, he danced his hips into exhaustion, providing you with all the good energy you didn’t think you could possibly get. Your performance ended when some Creedence song started, and you walked over and pressed yourself against Harry’s chest. Since you got to his house, you gradually started to feel better, but it all came so naturally, you literally had to stop and check in order to actually realize it. “Thank you” you mumbled into his shirt. “Don’t need to thank me, love” Harry said softly, rubbing your back, “Seeing you loosen up and smile makes me feel better too” His words warmed up your heart from the inside, and it was probably the amount of emotions that you felt in the last 12 hours that caused you to have so little self control, but your eyes watered. At that point, thinking someone’s happiness relied on yours, was too much for your mind to process. Especially considering that for the last few weeks, it had been quite the opposite. A lot of things came to mind. There were a lot of things you felt like saying to him. Somehow, you couldn’t escape the need to thank him again and again, you wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how much of a blessing he was. Right then and there you got emotional you wanted to rant your heart out, but in the end, you lacked the courage. For some reason, even though you had nothing but good things to say, you were afraid to do so, embarrassed even. “Still-” you said softly as you pulled away from his chest. Your eyes rose up to meet his, and he welcomed you with the same warmth he had been showing all day, “I don’t know how to exactly say this, but I know that there’s no one in my life who would have dropped everything and came to check up on me, but you did. And I know you don’t want to hear me thanking you again, but I’m so so grateful you’re in my life” you confessed, breaking into a light sob. The change of atmosphere was too sudden. He didn’t see this coming, and you didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to finish your statement without a cascade of tears streaming down your cheeks again. “Love” Harry cooed, grabbing your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. The heat from his palms gave you a newfound sense of reality, forcing your thoughts to spiral again. “Y/n, I love yeh. So much. Yeh need to realize that someone taking care of you isn’t out of the ordinary” “It is for me, Harry” “I’ll fix yeh” he chuckled, and it was so weak, and his eyes cried because he had to do so. “And we can talk about it, or you can talk and I can listen, tonight, tomorrow, three weeks from now at 3am. Whenever yeh’re ready, I’m here for you, ok? I fucking love yeh so much, Y/n. Don’t push me away, because I’m here for you no matter what, ok? I want to be” His words, his tone of voice, calm but also disturbed and with traces of pain audible in it, the way his hooded eyes bore into yours, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took, was all too much. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now because I’m afraid I might say things I shouldn’t” “If you mean it, you have the right to say it. It’s that simple, love” he smiled reassuringly. You contemplated telling him how much you loved him and how it has been him all the time, but you were afraid he would put it on account of everything that had happened during the day, and that he would brush it off. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to believe your feelings for him weren’t solid. And on top of it all, up until a few hours ago you were in a relationship, and it felt wrong to admit that all this time you have been thinking of another man. “Maybe some other time” you finally said, pushing aside the topic and putting some distance between the two of you. “Whenever that may be” he nodded, “I’m here, yeah?” A whole pile of tangled emotions filled up your chest, and you needed an escape. A chance to put your thoughts in order before you said something you’d later regret. The wine was threatening to force out some confessions, and you decided a shower would be the perfect opportunity to delay them. You stayed in the bathroom for a questionable long time, but when you walked out, wrapped in a towel, Harry was still awake, watching the TV. He had laid on the bed some clothes of his for you to wear, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself when you finally understood why there were two shirts. The first one was neatly folded, but you didn’t really pay attention to it. The second one, a bit to the side, was obviously recently worn, so you didn’t think twice when you chose this one, the scent of his cologne tickling your senses. After putting the pair of sweatpants on too, you headed back to the living room, where Harry was comfortably laying down on the couch. He signaled for you with his arms open to join him, and you did so in an instant, cuddling into his chest. “There’s only a bit left of the game. 10 minutes tops. Mind if we watch this? I can put Seinfeld back on if you want to” “Oh, no. It’s ok.” you shook your head, “Just tell me who we’re rooting for” “The blue ones, love” Harry laughed kissing the top of your head. After you both shuffled a bit and settled back down in a more comfortable position, with his arms wrapped around you and your head buried into his neck, you only managed to comment on a few moments of the game before falling asleep. Next thing you knew, Harry was rubbing your arm up and down and whispering softly to get your attention. “Let’s go to sleep, Y/n” “No” you mumbled, turning your head so he couldn’t see your face. “Its much more comfortable, angel, I promise” he laughed. “I said no” you giggled back. “I’ll let yeh sleep here then” When he tried to pull away, you tightened your hold around his middle, “No” “Do you know any words other than no?” Harry laughed out loud. “No” His chest shook as he chuckled at your antics, “We’ll sleep here then” “Yess” you smiled and turned to face him again. He seemed amused, but even so, he looked down at you with awe in his eyes. After taking his shirt and his watch off, you both resumed your position on the couch, but this time, you had your back pressed against his chest. “I knew you were gonna chose this shirt” Harry spoke up a second after you closed your eyes, “But it’s weird because you smell like me now” “Harry?” you questioned, playing with his fingers, “Are there things you want to say, but you’re too afraid to?” It took a while before he answered, but you waited patiently. “Yeh mean in general?” “No” you said and squeezed your eyes shut, cringing in anticipation. “I mean now” This time he didn’t answer. Maybe he would have, but when you figured enough time passed, you turned around in his hold. If the answer was no, there would have been no reason for him to hesitate, so you took his silence for a yes. It was a risk you were willing to take. “Good night, Ni” you said and pressed your lips against his; it was hurried, it barely lasted for two short seconds but you put your soul into this kiss and it sent your heart into overdrive. After you pulled away, you turned around immediately and settled back into your spot. He was silent, not one of his muscles flinched. Maybe it was the wine. You shouldn’t have done that. You wanted to move. Not touch him anymore, never see him again. It felt like you ruined the best thing that ever happened to you, all because you couldn’t control yourself. And you were so close. You should have just laughed at his remark about the smell of his shirt and then go to sleep. Why wasn’t he saying anything? This was wrong, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Would yeh have done that if things with Jack happened differently? If they ended on good terms? Or if we weren’t drunk?” “Yes” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I wanted to do that for a long long time. But I shouldn’t have. I��m sorry, forget it” “Will never” he said, and then brought you closer to kiss your neck, “And don’t be sorry” “I love you, Harry” “I love yeh”. He kissed your scalp and spoke into your hair, “The most”

-

Hey, guys! In case you read this far and thought this sounds similar (or maybe exactly the same) to another fic posted on here, it’s because I had previously uploaded it to another blog. It was a Niall imagine at first but then i was like hm... Harry! Anywayyyy i hope you liked this! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought!

[amyonrails]

Traveling to Sweden by train

Things are slowly calming down again so I decided to spend a one week vacation in the Swedish city of Gothenburg. I want to share this journey with people as I promised friends to take lots of pictures anyway and because it personally means quite a lot to me to finally get out there again. Not only is this finally a proper vacation after a year and a half of sitting at home a lot with the coronavirus pandemic making it unfeasible to travel anywhere farther than where the S-Bahn could carry me. But this is also my first international journey in just over 10 years. Finally I feel comfortable taking on such a trek and because I am apparently a bit silly and like trains I decided to do this journey (nearly) all by train.

Planned route

Now how does one get from Berlin to Gothenburg by train? The route I will be taking starts in Berlin from which I will first board an ICE (InterCity Express; the German high speed train class of DB) to Hamburg to change to an IC (InterCity; a high-ish speed service) which is a joint operation by DB and the Danish national train service taking me all the way to the Danish capital of Copenhagen. From there I can take the Öresundtåg (literally Öresundtrain) over the Öresundbridge across the (can you guess it?) Öresund between Denmark and Sweden. The Öresundtåg stops in the city of Malmö, where I get a high speed train by the Swedish operator SJ that will get me to my destination.

This is quite a trip with a few changes and because I planned this with change times of at least 30 minutes in case there are delays the whole journey will take about 13 hours. The straight distance between the two cities is about 580 kilometres but due to the detour over Jutland the distance actually traveled is closer to 1000 kilometres.

(the route vaguely traced in Google Maps)

I booked the tickets online a few weeks ahead and paid for all second class tickets about 70 € in total (and again about 70 € for the return trip). This was actually quite pleasant. The whole first part of the journey up to Malmö I was able to plan with the website of DB, which cooperates nicely with services of neighboring countries. The booking website of SJ was also easy to use, very user friendly and has a good English translation.

The paperwork

So because this is an international journey we have to consider paperwork of course. You can’t just travel to another country, surely there is a bunch of hoops you have to jump through, right? Well, because of the circumstances, kinda but not really.

First off: no visa required. I am a German citizen and am thus allowed to travel freely within the Schengen-area and the only required document is my ID card. And that is only in case I actually get carded. On train connections that is only done occasionally, but of course I will have my ID with me, so that will not be an issue.

Due to the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic it is also necessary to bring either a negative test result when crossing borders or a certificate of vaccination against the virus. Which I got. You can have it in paper or digitally and two weeks after your second shot you are free to travel again. No quarantining or anything. I got vaccinated anyway, so this was no issue at all.

Over all this got sorted pretty easily and I quickly had everything I need.

As a slight hint for anyone traveling to Sweden for the first time: paying in cash is incredibly uncommon especially in the cities there so I very much advise getting a credit card. I used a simple card I could charge with a bit of money, which I got from my bank with no additional cost and due to the limited money on it, losing it would not have been that bad as well.

Potential obstacles

But of course, stuff happened. Or rather, would maybe happen. I am writing this portion slightly ahead and at the end of reading this you will know, how it actually played out. As will I know, because by then I hopefully will have arrived.

Over the summer of 2021 the train drivers union GDL started talks with DB about raises and compensation over the additional hours drivers had done during the pandemic. Talks broke down though and thus they started striking.

There are more internal factors at play here as well but I am not in the know enough to properly judge or even explain the whole picture. But in the end it also does not really matter because I can’t really change it that quickly. So I have to live with the potential of the trains in Germany being canceled due to strikes. Only in Germany though. As soon as I reach Denmark I will be fine.

The strikes are not full time. They usually go on for two or three days and then normal service resumes within a few hours. And they tend to stick to work days. Which might mean I get lucky as I will depart on a Saturday. But I will watch the news closely and may have to rapidly come up with a backup plan.

Additionally and a bit hilariously I will have to switch onto a rail replacement bus on my journey to Gothenburg. Just on the weekend where I will travel they are doing some bridgework between Malmö and the town of Lund. This is certainly an inconvenience, but I just hope it will work out okay, as it is not that far to Lund. If this was not the case, I would have been able to make this journey exclusively with electric trains.

The strike

And of course it had to happen. On Monday the 30th of August the union announced a strike that would cover a whole week and with that, cover the weekend I wanted to travel on.

But no reason to panic yet. This gave me a few days to figure out how to navigate around this. By Tuesday afternoon DB had figured out which services would still be running.

I got pretty unlucky though. During this strike no DB service would run from Hamburg to Copenhagen. So it became necessary to find another way.

Thankfully I remembered the provider Snälltåget. They run a night train from Berlin all the way to Stockholm with stops in larger cities. Like for example Malmö.

And so for an additional price of just 10€ in total I got my DB ticket refunded, bought a ticket for the Snälltåget service from Saturday 7 in the evening to arrive on Sunday at around 8 in the morning and shifted the ticket I had bought with SJ to a train on Sunday.

Overall that was not nearly as bad as I initially feared and by Tuesday afternoon I had rescheduled.

The journey

Saturday came and in the evening it got time to head out. Due to the strike the S-Bahn service in Berlin was also pretty dodgy so I opted for a route with U-Bahn and bus. Which worked pretty well. The bus was a bit crowded but the whole trip was only a few minutes slower than any S-Bahn connection available to me.

Berlin central station is a very modern steel and glass construction that is very vertical with platforms going east-west above ground and platforms going north-south below ground. Due to the strike there were only few trains around but there were still some passengers taking the few trains in service.

(a view along the upper platforms at Berlin central station with the low sun shining through the glass roof)

About 20 minutes before departure my train pulled onto the platform. Four carriages pulled by an electric loco. Very quickly I had found my seat and was happy to see us depart perfectly on time at 19:02. But then had to stop for twenty minutes just after leaving the city behind, because unauthorized people were on the track.

For this section with Snälltåget I had booked the most basic seat. Fortunately the person who boarded the train in Hamburg at around 22:00 seated next to me found another free seat, so neither of us had to be crammed in our seats and attempt to sleep.

Ah yes, sleep. As this was a night train a reasonable thing to do is to sleep. Unfortunately a few things got in the way of that. Firstly, the cabin light in the open saloon was never turned off. It was comparatively low, but still bright enough to disrupt sleep.

And then came the stop just behind the Danish border. In the small town Padborg, the loco that had hauled us all the way from Berlin got replaced by a Danish locomotive. This is due to a difference in voltage between the countries’ catenary equipment. That alone would have been fine, but unfortunately the Danish border guards deem it necessary to check every single train. And if that means disrupting 200 peoples sleep each night at 2 in the morning then they will do it. Which is what they did.

(empty platforms at Padborg, only some bright lamps break the darkness in the dead of night while the border guards board the train)

(the sun is just barely rising over the flat and still dark Danish countryside)

During the next few hours I managed to catch a bit of uneasy sleep until the early dawn. Because I realized, that we were nearing Copenhagen I decided to just stay awake and watch the landscape zip by as the sun crept up. And it was worth it.

(banks of mist over fields)

Fields covered in mist like ghostly apparitions. And right as the sun really rose and made it easy to see, we crossed the Öresundbridge. A wonderful view.

(the metal frame of the Öresundbridge with the sea visible in the background, the sun is shining just out of frame to the right)

After the bridge it was not far to the city of Malmö. Unfortunately we were delayed slightly again. Slowly I felt like fate was trying to keep me from reaching my destination.

But because I was cautious this delay was not enough to mess with my plans. The train arrived slightly delayed at around 08:30.

(the loco that had pulled me through the bit of Sweden I had crossed this far sitting at a platform in Malmö)

I did not take time to look at Malmö central station, but from what I saw it is a nice station with the older platforms being complemented by a modern building housing some shops. But I had a bus to catch, so I headed for one of the exits.

Some helpful staff was able to point me to the replacement bus I now had to take to get to Lund. The bus trip, while a bit inconvenient was actually a nice change. And I got dropped off right in front of the train station an hour before my train was due to depart.

And that last leg of the journey was very pleasant. The X55 even in second class was wonderful to ride. Good leg space, large windows, pleasant decor and a comfortable ride paired with sunny views of the Swedish countryside. This train made it immediately clear to me, that Swedish rail has a wider loading gauge than most other countries and the cars are built accordingly with lots of room. Zooming through hills and past fields at not very high speeds was just a delight.

(a bit of Swedish countryside with fields and farm buildings under a blue sky, in the distance one can just about see the coastline)

And after about 2 and a half hours my final train for that day pulled into Gothenburg central station. Which is a wonderful old station that has been maintained very well. The main concourse still has it’s original dark wood framing and large murals show different old railway lines all under an iron and glass ceiling, which makes it feel large but still cozy. Even tired as I was, I was surprised by how nice this station is.

(the main concourse in Gothenburg central station)

(the front of Gothenburg central station in broad daylight)

From the central station one can easily get anywhere in the city with the many trams or a bus which stop just a hundred meters from the station entrance.

In conclusion

This whole trip is now about two weeks in the past and I had some time to think about it. In general I still think this is a good way to get to Sweden, especially if you are on a budget. Next time I want to try out a proper cabin with a berth on the night train, because I am just too tall to sleep in any way comfortably in a seat.

[side-shawty]

Burn XI (Stark!Reader)

XI:Homemade Dynamite 

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Sometimes it’s only you.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Requested? YES

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

You didn’t know what time was anymore. The rooms you were taken to had no windows and the hallways were only lit with artificial lights but it had to have been more than a week since that night.

Each day the HYDRA scientists would study you like a lab rat, draining your power to a point where you couldn’t even light a match if you needed to. They gave you enough food and water to keep you alive but physical exercise was prohibited and whenever you tried whatever they had put in your neck would shock you painfully enough to make you double over.

At some point you began to hope they’d just put you in a cryosleep as they did with Bucky, at least then you have some semblance of peace.

You had counted all the cracks on each wall, the ceiling, and the floor of your concrete “bedroom” and started to number your days by the experiments because there were never more than three per day.

You hadn’t seen Harley since your first day and you weren’t sure if he was even still alive. 

On what you believed was your thirteenth day something different happened. You were in the usual room they used to extract your powers but the usually one-way glass was lit and you could see spectators on the other side of it. They all looked like important people, men and women in professional attire waiting to see what they’d do to you today.

One woman, in particular, stood out, however, she was tall and didn’t seem to be getting the sick pleasure of watching you like this that the others had.  There was an air about her though, she stood out from the sea of sharks beyond the glass. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, only looking away when the scientists strapped your head to the table you had been laid on.

“Ready for extraction,” the scientist you had come to call Pierce — because of his eyebrow piercings — said.

“Vitals normal, beginning extraction,” said the second one, Skirt, because she never wore pants. She stuck one needle in your left arm and the “extractor” was placed on your opposite wrist. 

The pain had begun to numb as the days passed but your soul screamed at the violation. Today you couldn’t hold back the tears that fell from your eyes and caressed your ears. 

As always you shut your eyes and counted down from 1,000 several times until your restraints were undone and your body was too heavy an exhausted to move. You were placed in a wheelchair and stared blankly at the halls, counting the lights and re-memorizing the turns to get to your room. 

You were sick of this, Natasha would scold you for not fighting harder. As you were placed on your bed you told yourself that you would fight again, the way you had when you first arrived. The shocks didn’t hurt as much and the threat of a higher voltage did little to scare you now.

Hours later you sat up slowly in the uncomfortable bed lightheaded as you stood to walk to the sink. The water wasn’t the cleanest but it would have to do as you leaned over the sink and gulped it to give your body some sense of significant hydration. 

You stood up with heaving breaths before staring into the small, dirty mirror that hung lousily ahead of you. You didn’t recognize the girl in front of you. 

Your once luscious curls were dry and matted around your thinning face and sunken eyes. Your rich skin had paled significantly and you gave a fleeting thought to what you wouldn’t give to tan on the roofs tower right now.

You mustered what strength you could to ripped the bottom hem of your shirt and ducked your head under the faucet to wet your hair slightly before attempting to tie it into a messy bun. You then scrubbed your face but the dark circles seemed to be there to stay. 

You looked over your shoulder at the camera in the corner and it’s eerily blinking red light. If you could reach it then you could try to loop the footage and maybe some privacy to exercise again.

But the bed was bolted down and the single pillow wouldn’t give you enough added height. Trying to use the paper-thin mattress was also out of the question.  You were too weak to jump and that would also raise too much suspicion.

You sat on the edge of the bed as you thought of something else you could possibly do. The toilet that was shuttered behind an automatic door could be plausible. It was on a timer though, in three minutes it would open on its own.

Unless you could find the control panel.

At that, you stood up and headed for the toilet. You shut the door and heard the indicative beep that it had been shut. You opened and closed it again, listening closely to the sound to see where it had come from. You hoped you wouldn’t raise any suspicions as you did it several more times.

Maybe that would think you had finally snapped. Finally, you found the beeps origin on the left wall screwed shut with screws so small you wanted to scream. 

You tried to think of something you could use to unscrew it and then remembered the toilet only had two large screws on either side keeping it closed and after a few attempts and a raw left thumb you had managed to get the top of the toilet free. You just crossed your fingers that it wouldn’t raise any red flags.

As you looked through the few components you were startled as the door gave three quick beeps and then opened on its own. You quickly pulled out a thin piece of metal that you felt wouldn’t compromise the toilet too much and slipped it into your curls.

After screwing the top back on you exited and rinsed off your hands, watching as your blood danced down the dirty drain. 

The door wouldn’t allot you another three minutes of privacy for at least 30 minutes so in that time you thought of what else you could do with the metal. You wished you knew what time it was because clearly no one had been monitoring closely enough to notice you were behaving differently.

You thought of ways to fashion a weapon and got to work on removing the elastic from your sheets. It was thin but it would be helpful if you could layer it properly. 

This was the first time you felt exhilarated in days but your body was no longer used to such excitement and you could feel yourself crashing. Before you could, however, you subtly pulled up a corner of your sheets and exposed the small hole you had cut during your first few nights. 

It was where you had stashed the small locator chip that you had extracted from your side so HYDRA wouldn’t be able to find it. Clearly something had been blocking its signal or you wouldn’t still be here. You added the metal and elastic before pulling the sheet back into place and lying your head onto the thin pillow.

Tomorrow you’d fight like hell again to free yourself. You were counting on your family to save you but they were counting on you to not give up. Though you weren’t sure where this second wind came from you were more than happy to fall into it.

———

“Tony!” Natasha shouted from across the hallway running towards the other Avenger at full speed. 

He was leaving yet another meeting about the lack of information they had on HYDRA and any leads on you. They infiltrated another base and there was nothing to go on once again but the look on Nat’s face as she approached made Tony’s heart speed up a bit.

“What happened?” He asked as she held a tablet out to him. There was a file on Agent Morse with CLASSIFIED written at the top in red.

“I think we found her. Morse has been under deep cover for HYDRA and she attended an extraction viewing matching Y/N’s description,” she told him and it took everything to hear her words over the beating of his own heart.

“What do you mean ‘matching her description’? She couldn’t see her face?” Tony asked trying not to get ahead of himself.

“She did but if it really was Y/N she’s weak and thin. Shorter hair. The report says that she could barely stand on her own.”

Tony had to even his breathing before he spoke again, “Where is she?”

“Siberia but we have to wait until tomorrow. Security got tighter for the extraction viewing and it won’t go back to normal until then. There are no signs that they’re moving her, they’re comfortable so that means they’ll be vulnerable,” Nat placed a hand on his shoulder looking into his eyes, “It’s not everything we hoped but it’s the best we have.”

Tony nodded, “Wheels up at 0500 tomorrow?” He asked knowing she already made the preparations but needing the confirmation. 

“Yeah, I’ll brief the others. Can you tell the kid?” She asked.

“Of course,” he said and they went their separate ways, each of them already on their respective devices to prepare for tomorrow. Before Tony said anything to Peter he would have to let Pepper and Morgan in on everything, they had been just as devastated — Pepper maybe more so — as everyone else when you were taken.

Tony was on his phone calling her before he even stepped on the elevator, “Pep, I’m coming up can you and Morgan meet me in the living room?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” his wife spoke on the other end, her voice had changed too, it had a lot less life now. Even though one of her daughters was safe she wasn’t able to protect the other and she was beating herself up about it.

When the elevator came to a stop Tony was quick to exit and headed for the living room. Pepper and Morgan were already settled on the couch, the young girl huddled in her mother’s lap clutching the stuffed octopus you had given her. It had been yours at her age and seemed a bit worse for wear now.

Tony sat on the coffee table across from them and held one of their hands.

“I think we found her,” he began and saw Morgan bring the octopus closer to her chest. Pepper’s eyes shined.

“Where?” His wife asked.

“A stronghold in Siberia, an undercover agent made what we believe is a positive ID but —“ he took a deep breath as tears threatened to spill over, “but she’s weak so when we get her back she’ll probably be in the medical bay for a while.” Tony finished and Pepper nodded a bit absentmindedly.

“But Y/N/N is alive right?” Morgan spoke softly into the octopus’s head.

Tony removed his hand from hers to hold her face, “Yeah she’s alive. We’re leaving tomorrow to get her back.”

Morgan nodded and held the octopus out to Tony, “Can you give her this? She told me it protects people and I don’t wanna lose her again.”

“Of course babydoll,” took it and placed a kiss on her forehead before she snuggled into Pepper’s chest.

Pepper hugged her tightly, resting her chin atop the girl’s head.

“Bring our Firefly home, Tony.”

———

Today was different. After sleeping a couple of hours you got to work on the panel in the bathroom after several minutes of prying it open. You made sure to mumble to yourself every so often so whoever was monitoring you would just think you went crazy and tried to dig at a metal wall with your nails.

You coughed loudly to mask the sound of the metal being released. Inside you not only found controls for the door but also a low-frequency transmitter that had most likely sent an alert to the terminal when the door had been closed for too long. 

In a futile attempt, you popped the transmitter open and replaced its chip with your locator chip hoping that it would possibly be able to bypass whatever it was that was blocking the chip and let out some kind of signal.

Once that was done you made short work of disabling the timer before screwing the panel back into place as inconspicuously as possible. By the time you were slipping the metal back into your hair and walking out the panel at the bottom of the main door was slid open and your breakfast tray was pushed through.

On it, the same as ever was bread, eggs a meat patty and tea that you were sure was laced with some kind of sedative but if you didn’t drink it all they’d send someone in to force it down your throat. Thankfully whatever it was didn’t have nearly as much effect on you as it used to and as disgusting as it was even less effective if you soaked the bread it in first. 

After the tray was taken away you let yourself lay limp and vulnerable on the bed double-checking to make sure both the metal and elastic were out of sight. Lately, they had been sending one of the scientists’ assistants and one guard to bring you for extractions and experimentations. 

All of the assistants were untrained for combat and would be easy enough to take down. The guard would be harder, fully suited, and armed you’d have to be careful about placing your attacks. 

As you waited for them to come you closed your eyes and tried in vain to ignite your fingers even the slightest bit. You tried your toes too which had — funnily enough — be the first thing you ever lit. Your poor dad thought your foot had caught on fire. 

But nothing. Not even a spark and it made your heartache. The part of yourself that you had come to love so much had been stripped away and you were beginning to feel like it wasn’t temporary.

When you heard the door begin to slide open you pulled the pillowcase from your pillow and sat up on the bed making sure to look as lifeless and broken as you had been. The guard stood at the door beside a wheelchair as the assistant measured your pulse before putting on your restraints. 

As he timed it with his watch you glanced at the guard who had little interest in you and was instead glancing down the empty hallway. Before the assistant let go of your wrist you pulled your head back slightly before throwing it forward at full force right to his face. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

The guard aimed his weapon at you immediately and you held your hands up in surrender before pulling the metal and elastic from your hair and quickly shooting it across the room and clean through his eye. You stood on the wheelchair and threw the pillowcase over the camera. 

The guard’s body was spasming slightly and while he wouldn’t die he wouldn’t be conscious for long either. A well-placed punch had him out for the count. 

Assuming you only had a minute or two before someone noticed the lack of vision so in that time you placed the doctor in the bathroom and shut the door and pulled the guard and wheelchair out into the hallway after removing as many weapons from him as you could.

You took the pillowcase off of the camera and raced down the hall. The only locations you knew how to get to are the ones they took you to for experimentation so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in the opposite direction.

You just hoped you wouldn’t run into something worse.

———

“How long until we get there?” Peter asked for what had to have been the tenth time since the flight began.

“Less than 30,” Natasha replied from the co-pilot’s seat, her voice held no annoyance though everyone was too on edge for that. 

“Tony come look at this,” Rhodey called from beside her as an alert lit up the screen.

He was quick to stand from his seat where he had been silent for the duration of the flight and look over the other man’s shoulder. On it was something that made his heart soar, your locator had been activated again though the signal was rather weak it was clearly in the vicinity of the base that they were headed to.

 “Does that mean they’re moving her?” Steve asked, coming from behind them to see what the commotion was about.

“Possibly or that she found a way to get the signal out,” Tony replied before clenching his jaw in frustration He absolutely hated not having the answers, especially when the questions were about someone he loved.

Everyone was silent for the next few minutes, constantly looking at the screen before your location faded out. The air in the Quinjet got heavier as they continued the rest of their journey in silence.

——

As you ran full speed down the hall you didn’t run into another soul until you reached a corner. You waited until the two men walked into another room and shut the door behind them. As you did so you realized that this hallway was different. Well if you were being specific it was more like a sky bridge and you were stunned at the sight of bright greenery beyond the glass. 

Though you still weren’t exactly sure where you were you couldn’t argue that the mountains were beautiful, This part of the base was clearly higher than the basement like the part they had stored you away in. 

You were startled out of your reverie at the sound of an alarm, they had clearly figured out about your escape.

“Shit,” you swore before sprinting the rest of the way down the bridge and bursting through the doors into the other building. On the other side, you were met with 3 armed guards who you didn’t hesitate to fire at before they had a second to think.

Three clean shots and you were running again you heard yelling behind you as the men guards were discovered and swore again. Shots rang out and you began twisting handles until you found an open one. Once you did you you realized it was a supply closet and the barricaded yourself inside. 

Beyond the door, you could hear the men arguing in Russian about not blowing the door off its hinges because they wanted to keep you alive. They weren’t saying that when they were trying to blow my head off, you thought as you stacked boxes to get close enough to reach the vent in the ceiling.

You removed the bulky vest and secured the rifle to your back with the strap before making sure the pistol and knife wouldn’t move. Just as you opened the vent and began to hoist yourself up you almost blacked out as electricity shot through your neck.

With the adrenaline pumping through you you hardly remembered it was there. You fought through it, pulling yourself up and into the vent taking a second to rest as it stopped for a second. You knocked the boxes over with the butt of the rifle and closed the vent before moving back slightly to let yourself lie down and breathe.

The moment the electricity cut off you were crawling through the vent with no sense of direction. At some point, you did hear the sound of a door being blown from its hinges and you were proud of yourself for leaving when you had.

You had gotten some distance when the next shock came. You had reached a break in the vents that had allowed you enough room to sit up and bite back an anguished cry.

The minutes felt like hours as you waited for it to stop and when it had you made a rash decision pulling the knife you had taken from the guard off of its holster and cleanly slicing open the skin over the small device. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from screaming, the knife connecting with it for a split second made your bones quake.

You took several deep breaths before peeling off the cotton shirt to reveal the black sports bra underneath. You bit on the fabric and squeezed your eyes shut as you used your thumb and forefinger to grip the device and pull it quickly from its place.

It had been connected to other wires and the feeling of them being removed in one fail swoop when it probably should have been surgically made you blackout briefly. 

Once you got your bearings again you removed the shirt from your mouth and tied it taught around your neck to help with the bleeding. You held it between your bloodied fingers and silently cursed it before tossing it aside and continuing down the vent. 

Eventually, you found an empty office and decided to jump down after kicking the vent open. You searched through the desk and shelves looking for blueprints or anything that would help you escape. 

At this point, you’d settle for a pair of socks.

Finally, you’d found what you thought was blueprints to the building or at least something close. HYDRA wasn’t very creative when making their bases. You tried to think back to the position of the sun on the sky bridge and the turns you had taken since then but even then you could only guess that you were on the east side of the building. 

Assuming what office you were in you found the nearest exit and memorized it. The halls were sorely lacking in patrols for them to have been looking for an escaped lab rat but you weren’t going to overthink it. They would most likely still be searching the vents so you had to make use of that misdirection.

The closer you got to your would-be exit the louder the sounds of fighting got but you couldn’t understand who they’d be fighting if it wasn’t you. You fought hard not to get your hopes up that someone had come to help you but the hero in you had you running towards the sounds.

Your legs almost gave out at the sight in front of you but you couldn’t waste time on that. You took the rifle in your hands and took down the HYDRA agents one by one with little effort. 

Once that was done the room began to still as all eyes fell to you.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

[junnibook]

Day • 23 ~ kuroo

First time

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you sat on your couch, sitting on your back legs staring at your back legs staring intensely at your boyfriend, who noticed you staring but thought nothing much of it since he is well aware that you are a weirdo. this was a different type of weird though, he didn’t know if he should acknowledge you or not. 

but you stared and stared , until he looked your way. which he did. no words were just a simple yet intense stare off. he’ll give , he has too. he stared blankly not saying anything, why hasn’t he said anything yet.? you didn’t look away but lord id you want to. If he wont talk than you won’t breathe. 

you held your breath still staring. your cheeks turning red .. than blue.. than purple. when did you start spinning? you tried to focused but your head started to spin just as fast as the ceiling fan.

staring...

staring but with burning lung..

staring trying to hold back a laugh..

staring but on the verge of fainting..

“Jesus , woman what do you want.?” you took a breath of air, mentally smirking. you knew he’d give, just took a  bit of time to that’s all. “I wanna do something” you sound so proud to say it. he slowly raised an eyebrow in question. “ be specific” you cleared your throat. “ i wanna have sex” your voice was deeper than it should and your face was very strange, like a old jazz player trying to seduce a young bartender. 

he was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes blankly once again. you blinked in response.. is that not how you ask.? you’ve been thinking of a way to say it all day, you figured you’d just say it , now you look like a fool. 

you sat there rethinking your life, mentally cringing and rolling around on the couch calling your self an idiot. He chuckled which turned into a full on laugh. mental you and physical you looked at each other. 

“that’s funny , okay now what do you want” you looked up at him childishly glaring and pouting. “to have sex” he blinked so you blinked , with sass. “ kitten you can’t even take my fingers with out having to adjust for a whole four mins” you lifted up off your back legs and climbed onto his lap, facing his way. 

“I’m being serious” you put your head between his shoulder and neck, snuggling him. Out of reflex he placed his hands on your ass, slowly and comforting rubbing it slowly. “ that’s different  I can this time” you kissed his neck “ I  wanna be closer to you” he looked down straight faced just for his signature smirk to creep up on his face. 

“lets test that out” he picked you up placing you on his shoulder. “Tetsu” he moved to the bed room , tossing you on the queen size bed watching you plop down. he closed the door making his way to you.  he stood above you for a moment he looked so  angelic , than he smirked. horns could appear any moment. 

“take it off” key for , get naked than undress me. you got on your knees in front of him taking off your shirt . moving down to your tight fitted shorts. which he loved seeing you in because he loves how good your ass looked in them. he bent over smacking it. you pouted “oh stop pouting before I those lips to work” you pouted more then stopped taking his shirt off, running your hands down his chest. To the rem of his shorts. you seen his bulge. Accidently on purpose rubbed your arm on it. you bulled them down leaving him in boxers, you starred at his dick, was it always that big before it’s huge. he moved you, laying himself on the bed. “C’mere kitten” you climbed on top of him. making eye contact.  he pulled you in for a kiss. 

your sweet lips are so felt so good against him. he moved back his eyes lidded with lust. he brought his hand up to your face. “ open up” he got two fingers , putting them in your mouth. “ suck them” 

he knew you were wet already , he could feel it 100 percent. He wants you to suck his fingers to go in wetter. you sucked them , making eye contact, giving him a perfect innocent eye look, your tongue moved around as if you were sucking his dick. 

he took them out kissing you deeply, leaning you back, making sure your ass was up , he had your face on the bed. he rubbed your ass. “ no running got it” you nodded leaning your body closer to him.  He went to rub your opening slowly. “ you will take them , like you said”  he pushed his fingers deep in you. usually you whine out from being so sensitive. this time you help back. 

“good girl , your so wet “ you loved the praises, they don’t come to often when your on him like this. his fingers thrusted into you slowly, letting you adjust to them just a bit. you held back your moans, which he didn’t like he hated when you hid them from him. “ c’mon kitten , don’t hide those pretty moans” he picked up speed. 

he added to his digits, making you wide at the new stretch, “ tetsu -mhn-” he smirked , liking what he hears. “ you gotta get stretched or you wont be able to fit me” he moved faster , causing you to buck and move slightly away from his finger, which got you a sting filled smack to the ass by his free hand. 

“what did i say” 

you whined , its not your fault though , he’s an edging specialist, you being his test subject. he knows how to get your high going , than take it away until your so sensitive, and dripping. he moved his finger at a intense speed , pressing them on your g-spot, your virgin whole couldn’t take two but now he has three and they feel way too good. 

you reached behind you trying to move his hand, moaning out humming and whining for him to stop. with his free arm and hand he held you still while holding your hands, so you cant move. you were forced to take his intense speeding fingers. legs twitching as you did.

“ tetsu~ please please” he didn’t slow his fingers if anything he moved faster. “ awn , poor kitten can’t take my fingers huh, than she can’t take my dick” you moaned gripping him. his hard on pressed on your belly. “ i can i can” he freed his other hand to start rubbing your clit. both hands were soaked. 

“show me”

you tried your damn hardest to stay still , but you can’t oh lord you can’t. He loved it though , the effect he had on you. he moved his hand to keep your legs open, while you tried to close them, he brought you up your high, just to bring it back down. 

He squeezed your ass , before he went deeper , slow but deep. rubbing your g-spot. you and your body didn’t know what to do. you went to his fingers wanting more but moved away when it was to much. 

“you wanna cum , kitten c’mon cum “ he put his arm back around you holding you still once again , as he moved his fingers fast inside you deep inside your cunny. “ tetsu to much ~ahgn~” your body shook with a satisfying last moan that was breathy,  releasing almost a full hour of edging. 

you laid a head on his shoulder. he rubbed your back “ you did so well baby, c’mon we can-” you stopped him. “ no, I’m not done, you didn’t get anything tetsu” you took out out his very hard dick. “ i bet its painful to be this hard with no release” 

he looked at you “ you don’t have to keep going y/n” you ignored him positioned your self above him, your juices dripping onto his tip. “ i want too” what ever kitten wants , kitten gets. you slowly pushed down, taking a shape gasp of air. “fuuuck” he leaned his head back. you felt so wet , so tight so damn good on him. “ you okay, you want stop” he came back to reality, feeling your head on his chest. “ no..give me a minute, your too big to start right away”  he nodded kissing your forehead.

he kissed your cheek too, moving to your neck , leaving his mark here and there. his hand went under your ass. you sat on your back legs that was placed on his thighs. “it doesn’t hurt anymore” your blushed, he took that as you needed help.

with his hands he lifted you bring you back down. loving how you held him tighter , your soft moans , brushing against his ear. it hurt only a little bit but pleasure was so good, you couldn’t take him fully , not yet. 

“good girl” he praised , making sure you felt comfy, “ you take it so well, you feel so good too “ he picked up some more speed, testing it, just for you moan a little louder, your mouth attacking his neck , leaving him with bite marks and small love bites. he loved it groaning out. 

the wet sounds coming from you and him was like music. he couldn’t get enough of it. “ fuck baby “ he changed positions laying you on your back and him on top of you. he wanted to put your legs on his shoulders. but kept it safe for now. he went deep but not as deep. your moved your legs around him. arching your back. 

“tetsu~~!” he growled, moving faster trying hard not to cum until you do. he moved his hand on your sensitive clit rubbing fast, you breathed deep feeling a familiar knot in your tummy. he knew you were going to cum by how you tighted more, pulling  him in as his hips rolled into you. 

“ come on cum for me kitten” you did moaning loudly, neighbors complained silently. he did a few more thrust pulling out releasing his hot seed all on your belly and some on your chest. 

he took a second getting down from his high. “ my legs hurt” he looked over smirking. he got up, getting a towel to clean you. “ can we cuddle?” he cleaned looking over at you and smiled with a close mouth.

“of course” he paraised you until you feel asleep in his arms.

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