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anxiouspineapple99 · 1 year

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Of Healing and Breaking Again

Chapter 3 Or The One Where We Are Discovered

Summary: On a mission for Cid The Batch encounters an unexpected ally. Together they uncover a sinister plan being concocted by the Empire that could prove catastrophic for the galaxy. Together they try to save their lost brother, stop the Empire, and come to terms with feelings they never thought would be possible.

Pairing: Tech x FemJedi!OC

Word Count: 4.1k (long boiiiii)

Warnings: violence, mentions of vomit, death, some swoony eyes from our Jedi girly —this is an intense one

A/N: this one was a hard one to write but I thoroughly enjoyed it. It may be my favorite chapter/piece of ff I have written thus far! Hope you all enjoy it too! And shout out to my beautiful lovelies of the tag list! You’re amazing! Thank you for reading and for the support!

Catch up on what’s happened so far: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Avery trudged up to the Marauder first thing in the morning, her stomach in knots. The boys were running the normal pre-flight checks. She inhaled and marched up to them, trying to feign confidence balanced with the overwhelming remorse she was feeling.

“Hey boys, I just want to ahhh…apologize to you for the other day.” Avery rubbed the back of her neck and stared at her feet feeling the rush of shame for how she’d acted. “I’ve been…having a rough time. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Hunter stepped toward her, “Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and get comfortable. We’ll be heading out soon.” She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She proceeded to make herself as unobtrusive as possible when Omega bounded up.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come! You can help us with,” she paused, peeking mischievously over her shoulder at Hunter, and dropped her voice to a whisper, “the mission!”

“I heard that, Omega” Hunter interjected, not looking up from the task he was engrossed in.

Omega giggled and grabbed Avery by the hand insisting she wanted to give her “the official tour” of the ship. She proudly showed off the room her brothers had constructed for her, named who slept on which uncomfortable looking rack, pointed out the refresher, introduced Gonky, and presented Lula with a squeeze.

“And this is the cockpit! Tech says he will only teach me to fly when I can recite all of the Marauder’s specs from memory,” Omega grumbled.

Avery giggled at her visible disdain, “Sounds like he’s just looking out for you.”

“More so my ship, but yes. Some of that is concern for Omega’s safety,” Tech quipped over his shoulder.

“We are set, Tech. You ready?” Hunter asked, leaning on the frame of the cockpit door.

“Affirmative. Everything is ready on my end.”

“Great, let’s get this over with. When we reach the mainland we will split up. Tech, you and Avery will get the medical supplies. Wrecker will stock up on munitions. Echo will stay back to ensure we have no trouble with Imps snooping around the ship. Omega and I will look for Cid’s contact and hopefully secure what we came for. Any questions?”

Avery settled into one of the empty seats in the cockpit, attempting to draw as little attention to herself as she could. She woke up with a feeling of dread she couldn’t shake and it was gnawing at her. She tucked her knees up to her chest and shoved her nose to the screen of her datapad.

“You’re much less conversational than the other night,” Tech had turned to face her. His eyes crinkled as a slight smile crossed his lips.

“Yeah, wine does tend to make me chatty. This,” she motioned absently with her hands, “is your space. I tend to be reserved when I’m not in my element, so to speak. And I prefer listening to talking anyway.”

Tech narrowed his eyes, curiously studying every aspect of her before speaking again, “Yes, well that should not be a problem. Do you know where we are going to acquire our supplies?”

Avery nodded, “Yes. I frequent the same seller every visit. He’s reliable, trustworthy, and reasonably priced.”

“Excellent. You will lead the way when we arrive.” Avery nodded in agreement.

She was about to turn her attention back to the pad when Tech launched into an in-depth explanation of the migratory and mating practices of one of the native bird populations. A little unexpected and she wasn’t quite sure yet where the train of thought had originated but it was interesting. She put her datapad back in her satchel and rested her chin on her knees, listening intently.

He’s pretty cute pointing his finger like that while explaining things. She smiled at the thought.

“Ah, apologies, I am probably boring you.” Tech began to turn so his attention was back on the controls when Avery stuck her foot into the arm of his seat stopping him short.

“Wait, Tech. I’m not bored, I’m enjoying listening to you. I enjoy learning about wildlife.”

“Fascinating.” He adjusted his goggles, looked at her foot, and then leaned into Avery as if inspecting her eyebrows scrunched together quizzically. “That has never happened before. However, we are approaching our destination so we will have to continue this conversation at a later time.”

As everyone scattered to perform their respective duties, Avery noted the Empire's presence had exponentially increased since the last time she was here and something deep within was telling her they were there to find her. Avery pulled the hood of her poncho up, concealing her face as best she could hoping no security holocams captured her face yet. She walked so close to Tech she bumped him periodically. He took a mental note of her proximity to him and observed her body language to get an idea of what was going on. He finally broke the silence when he was certain of the cause of her unusual behavior.

“The troopers make you nervous,” Tech uttered, leaning in to Avery.

“A little bit, yes. Could you talk to me? Ask me questions? Anything to distract me until we reach our destination,” her voice quivered.

“Of course. What should I ask?” He countered with unflappable confidence.

“Anything. Literally anything. You could tell me more about the birds from earlier, or ask me personal questions, I really don’t care,” desperation was creeping into her voice.

“Why Nuna?”

“What?”

“Why did you name your loth-cat Nuna? Those are the impossibly stupid swamp turkeys on Naboo. A strange choice in name.”

“Oh,” a chuckle left her lips and her shoulders relaxed some, “Because when I got her I thought she was as stupid as a nuna, however I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong about that. She had no real awareness of her surroundings and ran into everything; walls, furniture, you name it. She also puffs up like a nuna when she’s mad.” Tech smiled, amused by her reasoning.

“What made you choose medicine as a profession?”

She looked at him, calculating how she would answer without giving too much away not knowing what he had already discovered from his lengthy research on her.

“I like helping people. Fixing people,” she finally answered. “One of my greatest attributes and biggest flaws probably. I saw all of the suffering the war was bringing. To civilians. To the troopers. I wanted to be useful…a source of comfort and kindness in a war that had little of either. Most of my training happened in the field. However, I think I’ve become a pretty good physician as a result.”

He looked down as she glanced up at him, each holding their gaze a little longer than normal. Her eyes were so blue and her lashes were so long. They brushed her cheeks as she blinked. He hadn’t noticed before and now he wasn’t sure he wanted to look away so quickly. This had also never happened before.

“That is very altruistic of you.”

She had let her guard down, but that also meant she’d stopped scanning her surroundings. Unbeknownst to both of them was the small squad of tk-troopers approaching from behind. Impatiently they shoved through the crowd, with one in particular shoulder-checking Avery with the full force of his body weight plus armor.

“What the stang!” She yelled as she was thrown off balance.

The unceremonious shove from the tk-trooper sent her careening into Tech. In a single smooth motion he staved off her fall, his hands grasping her waist and hers clinging to his forearms. He shot a glare at the trooper before turning back to her. A flush had crept across her cheeks as neither had let go of the other quite as quickly as they should.

“Are you unharmed?” Tech furrowed his brow as he squeezed her slightly.

“Yes, thank you Tech. I am fine,” her stomach still turning though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the anxiety of the presence of the troopers or her proximity to Tech.

In that moment, that intimate moment of them holding each other she felt him. Everyone had a force signature, unique to the individual. Even the clones, especially the clones, were distinct individuals in the force. She could get a general idea of someone's signature from being near them. But this, the touch and closeness. She felt so much of him. He was confident in not just his intelligence but his physical capabilities. He needed no one’s approval. He loved his squad, no, his family deeply and would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for their safety. He missed their brother, Crosshair? Yes, that’s the name she was getting. He was warm, compassionate, and had a strong sense of honor. There was a tenderness there that was reserved for only those he chose to allow in and a selfish part of her suddenly yearned to be one that he allowed in.

“You are safe with me,” his voice was gentle and soothing.

“I know,” she said barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and continued, “We are here.”

They entered the shop and began quickly checking off their lists. She instructed the man at the counter to add anything Tech was purchasing to her bill. He tried to dissuade her but she insisted it was the least she could do for letting her tag along. She paid and they prepped to leave when it hit her. That feeling, the Force was warning her. Danger. They were here. And they wanted her. Tech was uneasy too. She sensed that as well.

He looked at her, “Let’s get back, now.” She nodded firmly. She glanced at a group of troopers talking to some civvies.

“Have you seen this woman?” They asked, projecting a picture of her. Her breath hitched and she looked away pulling her hood further over her head.

Tech had also seen the exchange and immediately opened his comlink, “Hunter we have a problem.” Her stomach dropped, and she hoped that she wasn’t the problem he was referring to.

Hunter’s voice answered back almost immediately, “I know, Tech. We’ve seen them too. Just get back to the ship and we will lay low on the island until some of the Imps clear out.”

“Copy that,” and with that he closed the link. “Remain calm and keep walking. We will be fine,” he soothed again, eyes fixed ahead of them. She was in awe of his unflappable restraint in what was, frankly, a dangerous situation for all of them.

They arrived back at the ship with no other complications, sans not completing CID’s mission much to Omega’s dismay. They quickly loaded the supplies and once on board, Tech wasted no time getting them airborne and back to the island. Avery leaned against the cold durasteel of the Marauder contemplating her next move. She couldn’t stay. They would find her sooner rather than later. She’d have to try to charter a ship off planet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Omega, “Why is the Empire looking for you?”

She gave a half smile, “Let’s just say ideological differences.”

Omega tilted her head, “Oh. Us too!”

Avery was taken aback, “Wait, what?” Before any further explanation could be given, they were interrupted by a cacophony of swears coming from the cockpit.

Avery joined them but before she could ask what was wrong, she saw it. Smoke billowing from the island. She pushed through to stand next to Tech in the pilot’s seat.

Her eyes wide and her knuckles turning white from the vice she held on the headrest, all she could manage was a weak, “No, no, no.”

“Tech, I need you to land where we have some cover,” Hunter ordered.

“Obviously” Tech said through gritted teeth. Echo leaped into the co-pilot seat ready to jump in at any moment as Tech brought the ship down.

Hunter began formulating his next plan of action, “We need to get to the village and look for survivors. Echo you —“

“No Hunter. I’m going alone. You all stay here,” Avery cut him off, her mouth set in a hard line.

Tech whipped his head around, “That would not be advisable.”

Avery shrugged, “No, probably not. But your safety is my primary concern. This is my fight. I know that you know they’re here for me. There is no reason to put you all in more danger than necessary. Worst case scenario I hold them off long enough for you lot to bail. I don’t want you waiting for me if things go south.”

Omega’s eyes brimmed with tears, “We can’t just leave you!”

Avery knelt to her level, “You can and you will if you need to. My trouble with the Empire should not fall on any of you.”

“We will hold out as long as possible for you,” said Hunter, placing a reassuring hand on Avery’s shoulder.

“Thank you. May the Force be with you. All of you.”

Avery rummaged through her satchel and pulled out her lightsaber. Clipping it to her belt she breathed in and closed her eyes before walking down the boarding ramp.

Quietly she made her way to the village. She reached out with the Force before it came into view. Nothing. It was the same sickening silence as in the Temple and her stomach lurched violently.

She fought back tears and vomit, “Now is not the time to mourn. There will be time for that later.”

Her home had been ransacked. She walked in and softly called for Nuna as she dug into her hiding places to gather her few necessary belongings: her medic bag, her healing crystals, the box with the second lightsaber she was building, her remaining credits, and her few remaining clothes. As she was about to leave, hoping Nuna had made it into the forest, she heard a mew coming from under some rubble.

“Nuna!” She grabbed her and tucked her on her shoulder inside her poncho. She crept through the village center making her way to Cira’s. She was hoping, begging, praying to the Force that her friend was okay. That she could apologize for their last interaction. That the last time she spoke to her dear friend when she was so harsh and bitter wasn’t the last time. She stood in the doorway, eyes welling and looked on silently. She carefully walked inside and covered the body of her fallen friend. Avery’s heart felt like it was in a vice looking into those eyes, still open with the fear she’d felt in her final moments painted like a death mask on her face. She reached out and closed her eyes.

She whispered as she laid her hands on her, one final time, “There is no death. Only the Force. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for speaking to you so unkindly. For keeping so many secrets from you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, too. You deserved better.” She paused, sensing a presence. She walked back out to the village center, her senses tingling.

“We’ve located the Jedi, sir,” came a disembodied voice. She spun around just in time to ignite her lightsaber and start deflecting the blaster bolts.

Hunter was seated in the cockpit when his senses alerted him to someone approaching. He stood and walked to the boarding ramp where he saw a familiar face.

“Where is the Jedi, Hunter?”

“Hello to you too, Cross.”

“This isn’t a social call. Where is the Jedi?” Crosshair rolled the toothpick in his mouth irritably.

“Dunno what you mean, Crosshair. There is no Jedi here.”

“Don’t lie to me again Hunter. Don’t think I forgot what happened on Kaller.”

Hunter stared at his brother with a mix of sadness and frustration. Echo, Tech, and Wrecker all crowded behind him all wearing similar expressions. They missed him. They wanted him home.

“You don’ have to do this, Cross.” Wrecker said sadly.

“Don’t I, Wrecker? You so sure about that?” There was venom and pain in Crosshair’s inflection.

Hunter was about to say something when a voice came in over Crosshair’s open comlink, “Sir! We had the Jedi in our sights but she evaded us! She is making her way back toward your position.”

“Copy that, I am ready for her. Looks like you don’t have to tell me where she is after all. She’ll be walking right into my arms.”

Tech’s eyes widened in panic and his mouth twitched as he instinctively moved his hand to hover over his deece.

“What’s that look for, Tech? You fond of the traitor?” Crosshair sneered chewing on his toothpick.

Tech stood silent. He wouldn’t kill his brother. He couldn’t. He loved him and wanted him back with the squad. But he would stun him. He wasn’t sure why he was so compelled to protect Avery. He barely knew her. These new feelings would have to be investigated later. For now, he just wanted her back safe on his ship.

Avery crouched at the tree line beyond the Marauder listening to the exchange happening between the brothers.

“Nuna, go to Omega! Now!” She placed the little loth-cat on the ground and she stealthily crept from the hiding spot onto the ship.

Once Avery saw she was safely on board, she tucked her poncho in the medic bag along with the rest of her belongings and emerged. As she passed the boys she dropped the medic bag at Echo’s feet. She made eye contact, nodding toward the bag to indicate he was to take it in case of an expedient escape and he nodded in silent agreement.

She returned her attention to Crosshair, “Hello there, Crosshair. I believe I am the Jedi you are looking for.”

Crosshair sniggered, “You have the arrogant bravado all the other Jedi had, I see. However, she’s the prettiest one I’ve seen so far. I see why you like her, Tech. I’m almost sorry this is how it has to play out.”

“Crosshair, I can help you if you let me. I know you don’t want to do this. I can sense it,” Avery said gently. She slowly approached Crosshair, hands extended. “I will not kill you, or any clone for that matter.”

“Touching,” he hissed through clenched teeth. His rifle was still slung over his shoulder and she wasn’t sure if that was because maybe, just maybe, she was getting through to him or if there was a trap laying in wait for her. Just in case it was the latter, she drew her saber and assumed the opening Soresu stance.

Tilting his head and chewing his toothpick Crosshair leaned forward slightly, “Going back on your word already? Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“No, I meant every word I said. I am just not fully convinced you don’t have a firing squad waiting beyond those trees. I said I wouldn’t kill you. I never said conscripted tk-troopers would get the same compassion.”

Crosshair leaned against a tree, arms still crossed, “Listen sweet cheeks, this is all very moving. But I was sent to detain you, not kill you. I’m following my orders, though given the choice I’d shoot you on sight.”

Avery narrowed her eyes inquisitively, “No. That’s not entirely true, is it though. Like I said, I can feel you. You’re practically screaming in there, I can hear you through the Force.”

Crosshair clenched his fists and scowled, “You are a traitor and I wouldn’t think twice about ending you.”

Before she could argue the semantics of what government entity she was actually a traitor of, she froze her Force sense of danger screaming at her nearly as loud as Crosshair’s desperate pleas for help from inside his own head.

“Crosshair who is coming,” it was sharp as it left her lips. Panic was building quickly. She was skilled in dueling. She had to be. But she wasn’t sure she could hold her ground if she was going head to head against a Sith Lord.

A smile curled at the corner of Crosshair’s mouth as he shrugged nonchalantly, “That’s above my pay grade.”

She spun on her heel and faced Hunter, “Whoever is looking for me is here already, you need to go. You boys aren’t trained for what’s coming.” Hunter opened his mouth to argue but Avery barked, “That’s an order, sergeant! So help me, I will pull rank and Force push every single one of you into that ship. Do you understand me?”

“Hello little Jedi,” a sardonic voice cooed.

Avery looked back, slightly relieved to see that it was only an Inquisitor. It wasn’t a Sith Lord, but the Inquisitors were still sadistic, ruthless, and not her first choice in opponents. She immediately transitioned from Form III to Form V. Soresu would be fine against Crosshair and some tk’s since she wouldn’t have needed any offense. Just deflect, disarm, and run. Against an Inquisitor though? He didn’t have a blaster, his weapon of choice was a lightsaber, bled and corrupted crystal still screaming inside the hilt.

“Good work CT-nine-nine-zero-four. You’ve served well. I can handle things from here.”

“Crosshair,” she couldn’t help herself. She was staring death and darkness in the eye and she still had to say something about those kriffing numeric designations that made her blood boil.

“What was that little Jedi?”

“His name is Crosshair. He’s not just a number,” she hissed, as she idly swung her lightsaber around to warm up. “And you will refer to him as such when you’re in my presence.”

A dark laugh escaped the Inquisitor, “Your reputation precedes you. Bleeding heart for the clones through and through.”

And before anyone could blink the Inquisitor closed the space between them, but Avery met that speed with her own, blocking the blow of the red saber coming down on her head with her own teal light humming and buzzing as they collided in contact. She called on the Force and for the first time in a long time she felt it strongly pulsing through her veins. Parry, parry, block. She let the Force guide her as she went on the offensive. Side step, block, parry, block. She realized The Batch were all still cemented to the ground staring in shock.

“Hunter! Go! Get out of here!” Her yell jarred them back to reality. She could see the hesitation in their faces before they ran back up the boarding ramp. Wrecker hauled Omega over his shoulder as she screamed for them not to leave.

The Inquisitor took advantage of the momentary distraction and Force shoved Avery into a tree, knocking the wind from her lungs and the lightsaber from her hands. She rolled as he surged forward, only just missing her with the blade. Catching her breath she dodged attack after attack still unarmed. She managed to call her saber back to her with the Force just in time to activate it and block what would have been a devastating blow. They were nose to nose, only their crossed lightsabers keeping them from touching. She could feel his hot rancid breath on her face.

The Inquisitor jeered, “You’re stronger than you look, little Jedi, but not strong enough.” She felt her knees buckling, the strength in her arms wavering. His eyes mocked her and for a moment she thought that she was finished. She closed her eyes, breathed in, and pushed back with everything she had. She managed to knock him off balance, nearly throwing him to the ground.

She squared up again, face steeled, “I am one with the Force. The Force is with me! I am Doctor Avery Leto, Jedi Consular of The Jedi Order. I am not a little Jedi. I am a healer, a peacekeeper, and wielder of the light side of the Force. And I will be a force to be reckoned with.”

The Inquisitor laughed bitterly, “Your emotions betray you! I see your anger and sadness, your shame! Oh that shame is delightful. And now I end you little Jedi, but alas will it be by my blade? Or should I delight in ripping out your trachea?” And in the next moment Avery felt her throat clamp shut.

He’s made his choice it seems. Too cowardly to fight fair in a proper duel. Can’t say that surprises me.

She only hoped she could think of a plan quickly as she already felt her consciousness slipping.

Tag List Lovlies 💕: @msmeredithrose , @808tsuika

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allthingskpopcentral · 2 years

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Word of the Prey

Chapter 2 - A Cult from Twilight?

Warnings: mention of death and blood.

Pairing: OT7 x reader, reader x ???

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery, some eventual smut, Romance, VampireAU, UniversityAU

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

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a/n: This is the second chapter of this fic. I have moodboards done for each of the boys. I was thinking of posting them as they are introduced. I'll be making a masterlist soon! Enjoy xx

Another sleepless night stares in front of you as you stare at the missing-person flyers plastered on the telephone pole across the street from the house. In the first week of classes, another student had gone missing, but her body was found floating in the water. You had gone out and participated in the search for her hoping to get answers as to why so many students were going missing. At this point, you were starting to wonder if your lack of sleep was from the questions about the missing or to avoid having the dream again.

Since the first day of classes, the dream has become more vivid, and each time there has been something new with the dream. It starts the same, with the crying child drawing you out to the woods but instead of finding nothing, you see the figure kneeling over the boy's body with the tattoos ripping his body to shreds. You try to scream, but nothing comes out. Each time you want to sleep, the dream becomes more gruesome to the point that one night you woke up screaming with Jin, Hobi, and Yoongi standing in your room, shaking you awake. Since that night, they have been taking turns staying with you, worried that something may happen.

Staring out the window, it was silent; only the faint howling of the wind could be heard. The glow of your computer illuminates the room; your mind drifts to memories of when you first moved into this house five years ago—fighting with the three boys on who would get which room and moving the many boxes into the home. You smile to yourself. Things have always been interesting with the group, from Yoongi’s grumbling about being forced to socialize to Hobi making us all laugh and the random arguments with Jin. The house was silent; when you listened closely, you could hear the slow breathing throughout the house, each distinct to each person; Jin was having a bad dream; you could hear his heavier breathing, and the air had a tint of anxiety to it.

You sit back down at your computer, looking back to the missing people; each of them had their own unique story and family and friends that missed them dearly.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep till you heard the slight knock at your door and Hobi’s face peeking through the opening in the door “_____, time to get up, we got to get going soon. I’m glad you were able to get some sleep Munchkin” he said with a small smile before leaving you to get ready. You rolled your eyes at the nickname, no one else would dare call you that, but Hosoek holds the special privilege.

The first week of classes is over, and now the semester really starts; at least you got some sleep last night.

The drive to class differed drastically from the first day. Everyone was ready on time, no one was rushing, traffic was not too bad, and Hobi waited for everyone to be out of the car before leaving. It felt like last week hadn’t happened, and everything was back to the norm.

You say bye to Jin and Yoongi; as they head to class, you start walking towards the library to hole up while the others are in class to keep your mind occupied.

Walking through the doors of the library, students were sitting sporadically. The halls were emptier with fewer students filling the spaces, but you don’t mind fewer people to suspect to be the new vampire you sensed on the first day.

You get settled at a table in the back corner of the stacks, away from everybody, letting you focus on the readings you had been putting off. Time was going by smoothly until you smelled it again, the vampire you didn’t recognize. Your head spins around on a swivel, trying to see who is near you, except you are alone, no one close enough for you to smell them so well. You shake your head feeling like you were going crazy, until you look up, and above your head is an air duct pulling air throughout the building. The vampire was in the building, but you had no clue where exactly.

You run your hands through your hair, pulling at the roots with frustration. Every time you are on campus, you get close to them but not close enough to find out their identity. You let out a frustrated sigh, taking every ounce of control not to scream. The table vibrated as Hobi’s contact came across the screen. “Hoba,” you answered with a questioning tone. At first, there was no answer from the other side, and you began to wonder if he had called you by accident. “______, they found another body, it’s been drained entirely, it’s the resident that went missing,” his voice trembled, fighting back the tears. “Where are you? I’m getting Yoongi and Jin; we need to see the body.”

“There better be a good reason why you texted 911 in the middle of my lecture,” Yoongi grumbled. “They found Hobi’s friend, we need to see the body,” was all you said, but the tone of your voice was all he needed to know; this was serious. Shortly after, Jin made his way over to you and Yoongi, reading the energy that something wasn’t right.

The taxi ride to the hospital seemed to take ages; the driver followed the speed limit, a rarity in the city, and managed to get every red light. The taxi stopped at the employee entrance, and Hobi could be seen outside, his face pale and slick with sweat. “What took you so long?” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. Before you could answer him, he threw scrubs and lab coats at the three of you. “Put these on; if anyone asks you are potential residents and I’m giving you a tour.” The three of you nodded in agreement. A knot was growing stronger in your stomach as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you were about to see in the morgue.

It felt strange wearing scrubs for the first time in half a century, you definitely didn’t miss the responsibility that came with the coat and title of doctor. After navigating the hospital halls, you reached your desired destination - the morgue.

Hobi stuck his head in, ensuring nobody was around; with a wave of his hand, he motioned everyone into the room. “He’s in this one, I can’t look at him anymore, you have to be quick the police are going to be here soon to take the body for the autopsy,” he said, closing the door.

You haven’t seen Hoseok this shaken up in decades; Yoongi had already started opening the drawer containing the victim. Immediately the body looked drained, with barely any fluids remaining. With gloved hands, everyone started examining the body, looking for possible bite marks and harm to the body. At first, the knot in your stomach grew larger when you couldn’t find any puncture wounds, and you started to doubt he was actually related to vampires until Jin looked behind his ear. “Hey! Look here, it’s small, but it’s big enough for tubing to be used to drain him.” Jin exclaimed; Yoongi pushed him out of the way to inspect it himself. “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. Before you had a chance to ask him any questions, Hobi burst through the door “we gotta go; I got a text; the police are here”. In a hurry, the room was returned to how it was when you arrived, and it was like you were never there.

After leaving the morgue, Hobi ushered everyone into an empty patient room “please tell me some random murderer killed him,” he pleaded; your heads hung low. “He had puncture marks behind his ears, we don’t know for sure, but it seems like he was used for his blood,” you said. Tears welled up in his eyes, and you went over and hugged him - the sobs were deafening.

Jin had taken Hobi to get a coffee and something to eat. Your eyes landed on Yoongi as your thoughts went back to his reaction to the puncture wounds. “You know something that you aren’t telling me” you questioned. His shoulders dropped, and his head was hung “______ this is worse than we know. I’m worried,” he said barely above a whisper. Goosebumps cover your skin “Yoongi, tell me now.” your voice stern. With a deep breath, he started talking, and with each word, you thought you were going to be sick.

“So you’re telling me there is a secret cult of vampires that harvest humans for their blood—holding them hostage for months at a time using them for sex and feeding off of them. But also turn some of them to experiment on? Do I got this right?” you questioned, your voice getting higher with each word. You paced with a million thoughts running through your head. “Does this have anything to do with the bastard that turned me?” you questioned. Yoongi couldn’t look you in the eye, but you saw a slight nod, and with that, you were sick.

Jin walked back into the room to Yoongi holding your hair as you were sick into the garbage can. “I was gone for a solid 15 minutes; the hell happened?” he said before running to get you some water. “Yoon, how serious is this? How come we haven’t seen it before” you questioned, tears in your eyes. He brought the water up to your lips, shaking his head slightly. “The last time I caught wind of them was 200 years before I found you; that’s why I was doubtful when you first caught wind of it,” he said, his hands running through your hair.

“This sounds like something from Twilight,” Jin yelled as he paced the room after being brought up to speed. “Well, they had to get the idea from somewhere,” Yoongi chuckled. Jin’s mouth dropped, waiting for Yoongi to say sike, except it never came.

Silence filled the room, and no one was sure what to say. Hoseok was called away by the police to learn more about his friend in the morgue to fill in the blanks of what happened to him when he disappeared until he was found in the alley. A message appeared on your phone, a text from Chris reminding you of your study date that afternoon before your evening class. “Shit,” you mumbled; both boys looked over to you, looking at you to elaborate. “I have to get back to campus; I’m supposed to meet Chris, I won’t hear the end of it if I don’t go,” you replied, both nodding their heads in agreement, knowing Chris from his time at the house.

The ride back to campus was silent; sitting alone in the back of the taxi, listening to the sounds of the busy streets. The cool air of the AC blow, and the driver stinks of cigarette smoke and the remnants of last night's alcohol. You shudder as you pull up to the university, getting out and thanking the driver before he pulls away.

A short walk to the oldest building on campus, you find Chris head bopping to whatever was playing through his headphones. You gave a slight wave before he got up and hugged you tight “Yoongi messaged me that one of the residents that you knew was killed,” he said, rubbing the back of your head. Of course, Yoongi would tell Chris; he knew you weren’t okay and knew Chris would take care of you.

While you felt comfort while studying with Chris, your mind was everywhere; no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus- rereading a paragraph over and over and still not able to understand the key points. A couple of hours pass. Chris bids you goodbye and walks you to your class, giving you one last hug and giving you an assuring nod and a smile that warms you slightly.

You hide in the back of the lecture theatre, tucked away from everyone. The last thing you wanted to was to interact in small talk with strangers. You noticed the scent of the unknown vampire, you barely had the energy to focus on the class, and this was the final straw. Tears silently slide down your cheeks when in the corner of your eyes, a figure is a few seats away from you.

You wipe the tears away before he can notice, but what you didn’t know is that this mystery man saw your tears and wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the scent from you drew him to you.

The class was going by slowly when the professor got everyone to discuss the class topic with their neighbour. You introduced yourself to the boy three seats to your right. “I’m Jungkook, I’m a second year, but I transferred here last semester,” you smiled at his introduction. “Nice to meet you; I’m _____; this is my fourth year,” you replied.

Both of you chatted back and forth, talking about the topic, but mostly at your annoyance with the course and the number of readings required. The professor's voice bounced off the walls. “Now that you have spoken with your neighbours, this is my way of making partners for the end-of-the-term project, so get to know them as they’re now your partner,”.

“Well, let’s exchange numbers since we’ll be working together, partner,” you laughed, writing your number on a sticky note. Soon after, your phone vibrates with an unknown number and a message of “it’s Jungkook ☺️.” Of course, you smiled at Jungkook.

You were walking to the parking lot when it dawned on you. You had been so drained from earlier you hadn’t noticed that the scent of the unknown vampire was more potent today than ever. You stopped in your tracks, and you let out an audible gasp “oh my fuck” you whispered and started running towards the running car filled with your friends.

The three boys were surprised to see you running, a panicked look across your face. “Just drive” was all you managed to say, giving Yoongi a warning look that shit was about to hit the fan.

Hoseok pulled the car into the driveway, the silence during the drive was deafening. You entered the kitchen and grabbed a blood bag from the fridge, draining it in seconds. “Okay, Kid, what the fuck is going on?” Yoongi questioned, his tone dripped with worry. Before you answered, you grabbed another bag from the fridge, putting off telling them. Before you could finish the bag, Jin ripped it from your mouth, “tell us now,” he demanded. You swallowed. “I know who the mystery vampire is” the group stared at you, waiting for the answer. “He’s a kid in my first-year course, he has no clue I know, but we have somehow managed to be partnered for a project.” you said, grabbing the blood bag back from Jin.

You drained the rest of the bag “_______, in all seriousness did you pick up anything from him” Yoongi said, looking you straight in the eyes. He was reading your mind, leaving you unable to hide anything from him. “No, I didn’t realize it was him until I was walking to the car,” you replied in your mind. Both Jin and Hoseok stared at the interaction watching in silence as the conversation went on between your minds. “Not cool, Yoon, I would’ve told you the truth either way. “ you said out loud. Making both spectators jump at your sudden voice.

You left the boys stunned in the kitchen. Walking to your room, the feeling in your stomach started again. The sense of dread washed over you. At first, you couldn’t pinpoint why. You grab your phone, opening Twitter to mindlessly scroll to get your mind off the feeling. Except it has the opposite effect. The first thing you see is a missing person alert from the university. You recognized the student, a girl from your first-year course. You look at the message that had Jungkook’s number; you were typing the message before you realized it. He didn’t answer right away, and your leg shook, making the desk bounce with the impact of each tap. There was a slight knock on your door, “Munchkin” was all you heard as Hoseok face peered around the door. You waved him in “another student has gone missing,” you said, pointing to the girl on your phone “she’s in the first year course. She’s barely 18,” you said with your voice dripping with unease.

Hobi sat beside you on the bed, waiting for Jungkook to answer. The pit stilled in your stomach as you began to wonder if he could be involved with the missing students. A ding breaks the room's silence, a text notification from him. He didn’t know the student personally, but his roommate was her boyfriend, and he was distraught. Your stomach sank further; he wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt his roommate’s partner. Before you end the conversation, you invite him over to work on the project and to get to know each better.

Hobi didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. The two of you needed each other after the day you both had. You woke up the next morning with his sleeping figure next to you. A small smile came across your face; he looked peaceful and content. You run your fingers through his hair, trying not to wake him. It was Saturday, meaning you had no reason to get up, so you cuddled into Hoseok. Closing your eyes, Hoseok pulls you closer. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t have a nightmare but an actual dream.

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 2 years

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Not My Type - Chapter 17

Word Count : 1531

Story Masterlist

Taglist : @lordduckass @hoohoohope

Though he could barely understand her drunks texts, as soon as she sent her location, he was in his car driving towards her. He wonders what happened to make her drink so much, though he knows it has to be something to do with Yeonjun. It always had to do with Yeonjun.

He knows she loves Yeonjun, but that didn’t stop him from developing feelings for her. The way she carries herself. The way she practically glides around. Everything about her drew him in, and he was falling before he could stop himself. Rushing to her every time she asked him to. Giving her everything she asks for.

She stumbled into the bar right before Hongjoong was going to close up. He was about to tell her to leave when he saw the tears in her eyes. He could smell the booze on her breath and knew he couldn’t leave her alone. So he locked the doors and sat her down at one of the booths, grabbing them a few drinks, and sitting across from her.

“What’s bothering you, princess?” The nickname slipped from his lips, causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach. No one remembers how the nickname started, but that didn’t stop it from sticking. The princess of Déjà Vu.

“Yeonjun and I broke up.” She said, her words still quite clear. So he slid her a drink. He let her vent and cry. He knows sometimes that’s all you need. Sometimes you just need someone to listen to you. “Why can’t I be good enough?” She cried, her tears slowly getting worse. This prompted Hongjoong to slide out of his side and slide in beside her, taking her shaking body into his arms.

“You’re way more than good enough, princess. Yeonjun is just an idiot.” Her head rested on his shoulder with his arms tightly wrapped around her, his fingers drawing small shapes into her arm to calm her sobs. And slowly, the tears came to an end, and she removed her head from his shoulder, meeting Hongjoong’s eyes.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” She whispered, moving her face closer to his. Hongjoong was frozen in his spot, confused about the fluttering of his heart. She was his employee, nothing more. But she kept getting closer, and he found himself not wanting to pull away.

“You’re drunk and hurt right now. I’m not going to take advantage of that.” Hongjoong whispered, brushing some of the hair out of her face. But she just pouted at him. It was hard to resist, with her so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that. You have no idea the effect you have on me, Y/n.” But she didn’t look away. She kept pouting at him, so he took the chance, quickly pressing his lips to her pout, making her bust into a wide smile.

“Do it again.” She giggled. He hesitated, but obliged nonetheless, unable to resist her any longer. He couldn’t help but completely give into her charms. And he finally realized why guys were flocking to her in the hundreds, falling at her feet for the chance he almost gave up.

She was still in his arms when they woke up, smiling up at him with stars in her eyes. It felt like his heart skipped a beat when his eyes opened and met hers, and he wonders what spell she put on him for him to fall this fast. “Did you want me to leave?” She asked softly, her smile slowly fading the longer he laid there in silence.

But he kissed away her worries, telling her he wants her to stay. They spent the entire morning in his bed. He tried showing her just how much he wanted her to stay. That he didn’t just want her to stay today, but tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. He wanted her to stay until they grew sick of each other, though he knows it’s impossible to grow sick of her.

The memory hit him like a truck when he saw her outside of a club he knows she’s never been to before. Mingi stood beside her, rubbing her back as she furiously wiped at her tears. “Hongjoong?” Mingi questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“She asked me to pick her up.” He explained. When she realized Hongjoong came for her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss without a care in the world. And though he knew it was wrong, he melted into her, not caring that Mingi was right there. “Don’t tell anyone.” Hongjoong warned Mingi, who just nodded at him and returned inside, knowing Y/n was in good hands. “Let’s go princess.” He whispered to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked, noticeably more sober than she was when Hongjoong first picked her up. Her eyes were half closed as she looked out the window. Hongjoong found it absolutely endearing, thinking to himself that she was the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He knows she puts on a tough front, but he knows better than anyone just how fragile she truly was, just wanting to be loved and accepted in a world that wasn’t built for her.

“Our spot.” He answered, stealing glances towards her. She turned her body towards Hongjoong, watching him as he drove, smiling to herself. Maybe Yeonjun cheating on her was a blessing in disguise, giving her a reason to end it for good, and find someone that would love her wholeheartedly.

“Why are we here?” She asked as Hongjoong walked for the concrete barrier stopping them from falling to their deaths. “I thought we were going back to your place?” She stepped beside him, taking in the gorgeous view in front of her.

“I come here sometimes when I need to clear my head. I wanted to show it to you because you seem like you could really use a place like that. A place away from the chaos below.”

She stared out at the view, not realizing that Hongjoong was no longer looking at the view he’s seen a thousand times, and instead is looking at her, his new favourite view. He watched as her eyes flittered across all the buildings, trying to take in as much as they could at once. She seemed to visibly relax, letting go of all the tension in her body.

Hongjoong never believed he would be sharing his special place with anyone, but Y/n has a way of pulling you in and making you do anything you can to keep her around. He wanted to gift her the universe in a box with a beautiful bow on top, but he knew that was impossible. So he was going to show her parts of him he never showed anyone else. Let her know she was special. That the way Yeonjun treats her isn’t the way she should be treated. That she deserves better.

“This is where I realized I had feelings for you.” She blurted out calmly as they ascended the stairs. Hongjoong stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to look at her. “What? Did I say something wrong?” She blinked a few times at him, a slight pout on her face, similar to the one she gave him that first time in the bar, drawing him in and making him kiss her. Just like now, slowly moving in and pressing his lips to hers.

“No, not at all.” He whispered as he pulled away, sliding his hand into hers and leading her the rest of the way up. “What made you drink so much tonight?” He asked as they leaned on the concrete barrier, staring up into the night sky.

“Pretty sure Yeonjun was cheating on me with his ex.” She answered nonchalantly, as if telling him what she made for dinner. “Honestly, I’m more upset that I was dumb enough to continue to take him back every time he fucked up. I was just so convinced that the love he gave me was the love I deserved.” She continued, turning around, and sitting on the ground, placing her head on the concrete, closing her eyes.

Hongjoong followed suit, sitting beside her, and resting his head on the concrete. “You deserve so much better than he gave you.” He whispered, turning his head to look at her, seeing she was already looking at him.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps on telling me. I guess I just don’t believe it.” The two sat in a comfortable silence, staring at each other as she sobered up more and more. She came to terms in that moment that Yeonjun wasn’t good for her, she deserves more than what he gave her. She deserves the kind of love Hongjoong shows her every chance he gets. “If I asked you to wait for me to get over this hurt, what would you say?”

He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “I can wait. You’ll be worth the wait.”

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corvidoodle · 2 years

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I had a dream were i was in an rpg like situation with two unnamed friends. Dream assugned friends. Theres magic & shit.

So in this world there are 3 covens a witch can be in:

The red coven which specializes in baking. This is what my group starts in. The initiation is picking two pumpkins to turn into our superior so they can turn it into pumpkin cookie mix. We basically make instant cookie mixes.

The green coven that consists of mostly nymphs. They handle creation of elements. Their leader makes elements & the members basically mix em together to make shit. Y’know earth & water make plant kinda stuff. Though it has a dark underbelly.

The blue coven was honestly unexplored in the dream bc i hyperfocused on the green coven, but I assume it’s about keeping magical ley lines in check or some shit.

So after the red coven tutorial was done there was this exposition time when i wasnt in a character but observing. I saw that a lot of important green coven shit went on underground in manmade stone brick tunnels. Some green witches were in a semicircle around the head witch who was y’know making elements when she mentioned the forest nymphs that failed. Bc she makes the nymphs that are born into the coven. Sometimes theres defective ones (one of the defects was “being born pregnant” for some reason??? Like they were fully grown with child?? I guess bc only she can make more nymphs)

What stuck with me is how the defects were gotten rid of. She willed their faces to become distorted & the features to become dark as their mouths expand & consume their face, as they get rocketed through the walls & faze out of existence. It was spooky as hell.

So I’m taken back to the first person perspective of the red coven. We just finished another batch of baking supplies in the red town. We head to the plaza & it’s really cute & colorful. Everything has some shade of red roof but still colorful. A large green coven forest witch stumbles past us in a hurry. She’s big & buff & monstrous but nobody minds. The only thing about her is a visible green stench wafting off her. Presumably from an enemy she faced in the woods but was too much of a hurry to take care of. (I didnt care i thought “pretty lady awooga”)

The forest witch rushes to the top of one of the multi-leveled buildings to finish her quest with someone. Our curious party follows. The house she was knocking at had a much darker roof than the others, and when she knocked, there was no answer but some purple goop that started oozing out from under the door. The forest witch is ofc unnerved by this & asks if we know where [REDACTED BY MEMORY] is. I guess we said the nearby woods bc the next thing i know our trio of red witches is in the woods fighting shit rpg style.

Then i woke up. Honestly I’m really curious about the potential worldbuilding to be had here. The environments seem fun to draw so I’m totes gonna get on that soon. I think most witches are born into the covens they're in & its effort to swap covens.

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ancilla-hawkins · 2 years

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Parte 4/4 dell’AU federiciana, dopo mesi di gestazione eccola qui (lo so raga, grande talento, ma se io non procrastino tutto nella vita poi rischio di non riconoscermi più).

(comunque tumblr carissimo sballa tutto il testo e mette frasi prima di altre ecc. quindi se non torna qualcosa nel senso logico purtoppo è per quello):

***

Chicco was woken up abruptly by a loud thud of something hitting the floor.

It took him a few seconds to gain conscience of his surroundings and sensibility of his limbs, dazed by that sudden return to reality.

He raised his head, buried under the pillow, and saw a blurry Federico standing near the bed with a book in his hands, lit by the soft light of the table lamp.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, mortified, "I knocked it off the bedside table."

"No... don't worry." Chicco was in such a state of confusion that he could hardly talk.

Federico put the book away and leaned over Chicco, kissing his head. "I didn't mean to wake you up, go back to sleep."

Chicco was about to do so, but he stopped as soon as he noticed Federico's outfit.

"Why are you wearing your sweats, are you going out for a jog?" he mumbled, grabbing Federico by his wrist. "I'm coming with you, wait for me..."

Federico chuckled, "You can't even keep your eyes open!"

Chicco whined. Federico was right, he was way too tired to get up. He reached for his alarm clock and looked at the time: 6 am. Nope, way too early on a Saturday.

It was one of Federico's free days, but, since he was so used to waking up early to go to work, for him it was physically impossible to sleep in.

He looked outside the window. It was still dark outside; the sun hadn't risen yet and Turin was still half asleep.

"We can go together another time."

Chicco dismissed that affirmation with a mumble. "Still, you woke me up, so now you’ll have to deal with the consequences," he said, still gripping Federico's wrist and pulling him closer to him. He tried to convince Federico to lay next to him, making the best flirty face the torpor could let him do. Federico looked away, protesting, but could hardly conceal the smile on his face.

"Com'on Fede, get in here!"

Federico finally gave up and got on the bed but, before he could do anything, Chicco was already onto him, hugging him tightly and placing his head on the hollow of Federico's neck. "Now there's no risk of you getting away."

Federico grumbled, defeated, but Chicco knew well that he loved those cuddling moments, since they always were on a rush, and they didn't often have the chance to stay like that and just let the time go by.

He felt Federico's fingertips travel through his skin, on his arms and bare back, drawing constellations on his moles and tracing the outline of the lovemarks, sweet and rough memories from the night before.

For each of his body's small tremor, he replied with a pleased hum.

Chicco thought that he could stay like that forever, with his favorite person in the world, their bodies fitting perfectly with one another’s and their breath in sync with each other.

The cathartic power of love.

Almost two years had passed since that fatidic moment, and a couple months since they had started their new life together in Turin. With everything that had happened, it could’ve been at least a decade. For Chicco it surely felt like it.

He remembered when they had been searching for a place to live, with Federico arguing that they definitely would’ve needed a kitchen big enough for him to bake and experiment in, willing to choose a house outside the city centre to spend a bit less on rent.

He remembered well when they had first moved in that tiny two-room apartment too, and he had got so excited that he had felt like he could’ve jumped and run miles, because it was for them to share and make memories in.

He also remembered all those tears shedded when he had felt like he couldn’t’ve made it, panicking over his new job, overwhelmed by that feeling of hopelessness caused by not having any safeguards anymore but, at the end of the day, finding a shoulder to cry on and someone who could make him feel like everything was going to be alright.

The first time going furniture-shopping together, the awful pub Manuel had brought them and all their friends to as a welcome wagon, even the first fight caused by all the mess in the house… everything felt special and domestic.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, I was wondering..." said Federico quietly, stroking Chicco's hair, "Next week is your birthday, but we haven't anything planned, besides your folks coming over. Any chances to plan something for the weekend?"

"Hm, I don't think so. My mother and siblings will arrive next Saturday, and they’ll be here ‘til Sunday evening. I don't think we'll have time."

"And for Friday, your actual birthday?"

"I have work in the morning, and I have therapy scheduled in the afternoon." He wiggled out of the embrace, to face Federico with a sultry stare. "Then I'm all yours."

Federico smiled, still stroking his hair, but remained silent, pondering on what to do.

“What do you have in mind? Some over-the-edge activities, so we’ll meet my mother completely wasted and with two hours of sleep?”

“You totally read my mind,” replied Federico, sarcastically, pinching Chicco’s cheek.

Chicco took his hand and kissed it all over, tickling it. Fingers, knuckles, back, palm, wrist.

"Okay, here's the plan,” said Federico, adjusting himself better on the pillows. “A simple dinner at home, just the two of us. We can cook together, then lit some candles, put on lounge music and pretend it's the fanciest restaurant in town."

"Sounds like a plan...” said Chicco smiling, drawing little circles on Federico’s chest, while keeping his head down. “And for the cake?"

Federico looked at him with suspicious eyes, “I know you have something in mind, dear. Spit it out.”

“I thought that you could make it for me, and I don’t need to tell you what type because you’re my super awesome boyfriend, who knows my taste and preference so well, so you can surprise me and I’ll go ‘wow, you remembered, you’re the best partner someone could ask for!’”

Federico made a heartfelt laugh, "You're such a kiss-ass! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm pretty sure you did it, a few times."

"Well, I should tell you more often, because it's true," replied Federico, then kissed him on the bridge of the nose.

He was so happy to celebrate his birthday, it didn’t usually happen. The simple thought of his mother and siblings coming over made him ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to see them and hear all their shenanigans.

And his father… They didn’t really talk anymore.

Chicco thought that it was best for them if they cut ties, if it was for a while or forever, he didn’t know. Enrico clearly couldn’t imagine a scenario in which his plans were messed up by the person who was supposed to be his heir. To be honest, he couldn’t imagine a scenario in which his plans were messed up, at all.

That Christmas eve, Chicco had got back home late in the evening and was greeted by his father, completely enraged but still perfectly composed.

They had argued, a lot. First calmly, exposing their respective points of view, then aggressively, shouting and wishing the worst thing to each other. The rest of the family had stood aside, letting them pour out all those feelings.

After that night, everything truly changed.

Chicco eventually had got the job, and he was willing to play the part of the perfect and adoring son with his father in the office. His first step towards independency.

After a few months he had put some money aside, enough to pay rent in the city, sharing a small apartment with a guy, who was out of town very often, leaving the apartment at his complete disposal.

Federico and his mother had been essential in that part of his life, teaching him the essentials grasps of adulthood and always ready to give him advice, like what’s the best dish soap to buy.

He still didn’t know how his father had found out about Federico and him, though.

A morning, while Chicco was sitting at the café with his colleagues, one of them had asked him why his father had stopped showing up at San Giovanni. He didn’t know, but he had remembered that Federico told him that he hadn’t seen Enrico in a while.

The question was brought up again at the office, when Enrico was asked to join the group for a coffee break.

I don’t think I’ll go to that place anymore. Let’s just say that I don’t like to take my coffee in a nest of snakes, he had replied looking straight into Chicco’s eyes.

His answer had been greeted by confused chuckles, and Chicco simply had stood there, frozen in place. He wasn’t scared or anything, he was simply surprised and full of his father’s bullshit.

Congratulation, son. You and your lover ruined breakfast for me.

Well, you ruined a lot of things for me, so I guess we’re even.

Chicco and Federico, after a year of basically living at each other’s houses, had decided to move in together. That decision had felt natural, as natural as it was choosing Turin as the place for their new start. His therapist had suggested that his relationship with his father and the environment that it had created had a part in that choice. Chicco was sure of it.

He simply knew that they were there, and his father was not, and the distance served as a buffer between them. Chicco didn’t have to remove the buffer, but he was open to put his father back in his life if he changed, if he learned the lesson.

He learned to look at his life, at the future, with optimism. No matter what, everything was going to be alright.

"Wait! I just remembered,” said suddently Chicco, making Federico jump on the spot. “Manuel is finally coming back from Bergamo next week, and I thought that we could call the guys and play some football, it's been ages! Besides, he still owes me a rematch."

Federico made a disapproving face, "Manuel? Hmm, I think I'll pass. That guy has the grace of a fire truck, and I really care about my calves, thank you."

"Fede, com’on! He's not that bad, and I know that - deep down - you like him a lot. And Manuel has great respect of you."

"Are you trying to woo me by playing his lawyer?"

Chicco shrugged, making the fakest innocent face he could ever do.

"But... If we play a match on Friday, will we have time to prepare the dinner?" asked Federico.

"So maybe we won't have time to make dinner, but you already know I'm awful at cooking, and we should take advantage of this perfect weather ‘til it lasts,” replied Chicco, trying to plead his case, “and maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe you’ll still have time to make at least the cake?"

Federico sighed, pulling himself up and sitting with his back against the headboard, exhorting Chicco to do the same. "Listen, I'll make the best cheesecake you've ever eaten, even if we come home in the middle of the night–"

"Hey, that was supposed to be a surprise!"

"–if you don’t make me play against him, he doesn’t even have to think to get near my ankles."

Chicco frowned, "Okay, fine! But get ready to play against me, don't you think I'll go easy on you just because of your pretty face."

"Don't worry, I have a few cards up my sleeves,” said Federico with a smirk, “just be careful to not get too distracted."

"Oh, are you planning on distracting me? How would you do that, let's see.”

"Maybe like this..." Federico moved closer to Chicco and kissed his lips softly, and it was like rose petals brushing against them.

Federico dragged his lips on his cheek and jaw, leaving wet traces on his skin, and caressed Chicco’s shoulders with the light touch of his fingers before leaving a small bite on his neck.

Chicco moaned lightly, grasping Federico’s t-shirt and pulling him closer, inciting him to keep going by giving him little nudges.

He felt Federico’s breath against his skin while he left a trail of kisses on his chest, and another pleased sound left his mouth. Chicco was waiting for him to make the next step, already putting his hand on Federico’s sweatpants’ elastic when…

"Okay, I think I’ll go now," said Federico, getting up from the bed.

Chicco opened his eyes wide, dismayed. How dare he?

"Wait, you can't leave me like this!" shouted Chicco, grabbing Federico by the hand.

“I’m sorry, dear,” replied Federico, with a little smile, “but the sun is shining and, you’re right, it would be a shame to waste this beautiful weather and not go out for some exercise.”

Chicco kept pulling Federico towards himself. "Well, I have in mind some other ways you could burn calories..."

"Ah, yes, very tempting, but if that's your plan to make me stay in bed all day, then you'll need to try again." That said, Federico wiggled out of Chicco’s grip, kissed his forehead and walked towards the bedroom’s door.

"Ugh Fede, I was just trying... I just…” Chicco groaned loudly, tossing around the sheets in a frantic search for his boxers, or really anything to wear. “You evil judas, why do you always have to tease me like this?!”

He found his underwear and put it on in a rush, stumbling as he tried to detangle himself from the blankets.

When he finally pulled himself up, he found Federico staring at him in awe from the doorway.

“What?”

"You’re so beautiful, my love." In his voice, not an ounce of irony.

Chicco looked at himself in the mirror: he was half naked, his face still numbed by weariness, his cheeks, now fuller, were covered by a soft morning stubble. His hair was ruffled and way longer, falling in front of his eyes. His whole body was painted gold by the rising sun.

He looked like a mess, but… a happy mess.

"Okay!" said Federico, flushed, clapping his hands together, "I can give you ten minutes to get ready. We can go jog together, and when we get home... We'll see."

Chicco’s eyes lit in excitement. He grabbed the first clothes he could find and gave a loud kiss to Federico. “I’ll be ready in five!” Then he rushed to the bathroom.

He clearly heard Federico from the other room laugh and release a satisfied sigh.

Outside, the sky was a bright blue and the sun had fully risen, welcoming them and Turin to a new day.

#fic #se cercate la definizione di 'self-indulgent' online vi compare un link per questa fic #now what?

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all...

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) :

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

DICK

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger.

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning.

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ?

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words.

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger.

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.”

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times.

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time.

Yes. Time.

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him.

But there were times, you had to say something.

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless.

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him.

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !”

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess.

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking.

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down...

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol...

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...”

“Ah.”

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too.

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind.

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...”

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why.

He probably understood more than anyone else.

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it.

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room.

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times.

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ?

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt.

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes.

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered.

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much !

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred.

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son.

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly.

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly.

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered :

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.”

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred...

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early.

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room...

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed.

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way.

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom...

You had cried too, but you were not asleep.

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock.

It was only midnight ?

“Hello, my love.”

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you.

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day.

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.

There was no need for words.

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace.

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered :

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.”

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times.

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up.

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him.

You went down to the kitchen and...

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s.

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time.

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened.

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ?

Oh. But of course.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact.

“Ice cream ?”

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ?

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not.

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter.

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen.

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well.

The silent was slowly turning less awkward.

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead.

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face.

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing.

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter.

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons.

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then :

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !”

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say :

“I know.”

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery...

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly.

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important.

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?”

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to.

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?”

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is.

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.”

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter.

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?”

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy.

Your son.

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then.

He often thought about it.

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self.

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to : when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you.

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it.

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ?

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever.

JASON

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !”

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration.

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him.

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly.

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents.

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You.

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol.

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it.

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him...

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion.

“You’re not my mom !”

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !”

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well.

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt.

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words...

“Let him be, Bruce.”

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around.

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone.

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought...

“Better to leave before they throw me away !”

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back.

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away.

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved.

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you.

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?”

“No.”

“Really, why did you come then ?”

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.”

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !”

“TAKE IT BACK !”

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city.

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back.

“Wow there tiger, relax.”

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life.

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart.

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce.

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you !

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.”

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars...

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash.

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through.

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea.

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men.

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.”

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?!

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...”

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches.

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go.

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums.

************

“Have you seen Jason ?”

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him.

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.”

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...”

“He would never.”

“Bruce...”

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.”

“Bruce...”

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his.

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.”

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom.

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked :

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !”

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea.

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!”

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet.

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation.

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing !

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him.

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist.

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?!

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?!

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches.

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?!

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too.

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son.

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ?

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore !

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...”

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat.

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say :

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.”

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms.

“Oh sweety, never. Never.”

You say, not letting go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce.

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...”

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe.

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life.

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back.

Tightly against your heart.

“Mom...”

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back.

So much.

And they’d never let him go. Never.

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”.

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough.

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like.

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...”

You never give up.

Love.

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain.

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie.

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up.

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him.

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on.

He could never.

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma.

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same...

Jason never gave up.

But you didn’t either.

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t.

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did.

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly.

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice...

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself.

“But you’re not my mom.”

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school.

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time.

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else.

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while.

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet.

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality.

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings.

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment.

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad.

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt.

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far...

You left the room and he didn’t even notice.

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt.

It hurt so much.

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned.

“What happened ?”

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?”

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you.

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch.

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working.

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile.

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated.

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice :

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!”

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence...

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this.

“No, she just closed her eyes.”

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face.

“Oh...”

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?”

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !”

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest.

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely.

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom.

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful.

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !”

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband.

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him.

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops.

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !”

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together.

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!”

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence).

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim :

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!”

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?”

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet.

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying :

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.”

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !”

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose.

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again.

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”.

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you...

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too.

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him.

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children.

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities.

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ?

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task...

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !”

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more.

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ?

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry).

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids.

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal.

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family.

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted.

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time.

“You, not my mom !”

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it.

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door.

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband.

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok.

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad.

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that.

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words.

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger.

Anger.

The ugly force.

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her.

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you.

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Can we come in ?”

It was her older brothers.

Dick, Jason and Tim.

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications.

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom.

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day.

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength.

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing.

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words.

“You’re not my real mom !”

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever.

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family.

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances.

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”.

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good.

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family.

She often felt like she was a bad daughter.

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough.

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in.

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now.

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you.

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be.

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s.

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life.

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake.

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that.

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room.

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you.

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you.

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes :

“Sorry mom...”

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so.

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her.

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred.

It beats for your family.

For her family.

Family.

She has a family.

And you are her mom.

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never...

Cass never felt safe and warm.

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce.

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be.

DAMIAN

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first.

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning.

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead.

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??”

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted.

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust.

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way...

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles.

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it.

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !”

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ?

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did.

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it.

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it.

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it...

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up.

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?”

“She doesn’t seem ok.”

“Do you know why ?”

“Did you do something to upset her ?”

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes, he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit.

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No.

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning.

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him.

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it.

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes.

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to...

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care...

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t.

But it wasn’t obvious.

Bruce sighed, and then smiled :

“Since when is she acting odd ?”

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom...

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh...

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?”

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way).

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again.

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings.

Just like his father.

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face.

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said :

“What about last night ?”

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !”

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom.

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!”

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered :

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.”

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright.

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason.

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic.

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled :

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!”

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added :

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!”

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said :

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.”

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling :

“I LOVE YOU !!”

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said :

“Why are you yelling, little one ?”

Damian took a step back from you and said :

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words.

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too.

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary.

“I love you too, my little one...”

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom !

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on.

DUKE

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?”

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap.

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed.

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about.

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again.

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !”

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today.

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it.

The guilt.

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered.

But Duke.

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you.

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him.

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM !

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ?

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ?

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ?

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ?

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ?

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ?

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ?

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you...

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day.

He couldn’t have two moms.

...

Right ?

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ?

It would be easier.

Yes.

But it was too late.

It was too late...

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said :

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother.

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure...

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not.

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides.

It enhanced everything.

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold.

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care.

Ah. But you existed.

You.

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling.

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction.

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others.

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others.

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to.

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone.

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others.

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you.

When he fell, you were there to catch him.

Better to fall together, than to stand alone.

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^.

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littlelioncub43 · 2 years

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What's Real and What's a Dream

Summary: Curtis gets lost in his memories sometimes, but thankfully you're there to guide him back.

Pairing: Curtis Everett x female!reader

Word count: Unknown, I wrote this on my phone

Warning: PTSD, traumatic memories (not detailed), unprotected sex, creampie, slight angst, fluff

A/N: Well, friends, it's bed time, and we are thinking about Curtis Everett. I didn't think I'd write this, but here we are! I hope you enjoy it!💖

Kisses 💋

—K

~~~~~~

Curtis was in a mood. He was the moment he woke up, his dreams were plagued with the ghosts of his past; the smell of soot, gas, and rot, the incessant hum of the engine. Some days he could forget about it. But other days, he just couldn't keep the memories at bay.

He passed the day in silence, as he usually does when he has an episode. In the beginning, he used to feel bad about shutting down like this, but you'd shown him time and time again that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. He hated when this happened. It's been years, so why won't the memories just go away?

He sat in his arm chair by the fireplace, a drink in his hand as he watches the flames dance. The soft glow of the fire cast shadows across his chiseled features, they were nothing comapred to the shadows of his mind. You could see the gaunt expression in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over as his mind replays his years of turmoil on a loop.

You slowly approach him, smiling at him softly when your eyes meet. His own small smile reflects back to you, but it's only to be polite, not wanting to leave your sweetness unreturned. You reach for his half-empty glass and set it aside before climbing into his lap. Large hands circle your waist as your arms sling around his neck to pull him into a hug. His head rests on your chest while you rub his back, cradling him into you. You feel his chest rise and fall as he draws in a deep breath, sighing out heavily as he relaxes into your warmth.

After a while, you peel his face from the safety of your chest to look down at him. The fire illuminating the darkness of his mind ever so slightly. You run your thumb over the blade of his sharp cheek bone, your eyes taking in his features once more. Leaning in, you pepper tender kisses all over his face, taking your time. His eyes sliding shut to feel the softness of your lips on his skin, he always loved how soft you are with him.

The next thing you know your lips find his as if second nature. The kisses are unhurried, your tongues gliding across each other, the need to taste and feel simmering below your skin. The hand cradling his jaw pulls him deeper into your kisses, his hands tightening their hold on your hips to keep you rooted to your spot– the subconscious fear that you'd leave him rearing its ugly head once more.

The skirt of your dress hikes up a bit more with each kiss. Curtis' hands leave their perch on your hips to sneak under the hem of your skirt. Your hips instinctively grind into his and the rest is a blur. Clothes are pushed and pulled off in a rush, heated skin pressed together as your hands explore each other's bodies.

The moment your tight heat wrapped itself around his cock in a wet grip, Curtis felt the weight that had been clouding his mind fall away. A heavy sigh and deep groan of relief left his lips as he bottomed out. The stretch of Curtis' length inside you was one you'd always cherish. The slight sting was a precursor to the mind-bending euphoria that was to come, and you loved it. The shuddering gasp and breathy whimper of his name on your lips drove Curtis mad. It always left him wanting more, no matter how many times he heard it, he needed more.

His hips lifted from the arm chair, and despite the gentle pleased moan you gave him, you shook your head. This was about him right now. A searing kiss was all it took to quell any protests Curtis had. You drew your hips up slowly, letting you both enjoy the drag of his cock against your velvet soft walls. You set a slow pace at first, knowing that he needed to feel you around him for as long as he possibly could.

Deep, rich moans filled the room as you bounced on his cock in a dizzying rhythm, Curtis' head tossed back, he's always more sensitive when he's in his moods. You press kisses to the exposed column of his throat, feeling the vibration rumbling in his chest as you fuck him. His voice trembling with pleasure as his moans pour out in an unending stream. He's so close to finishing, his hand slipping between your thighs to rub furiously at your swollen clit.

He loved the way you tightened around him with a broken moan of his name on your lips, your pace faltering before picking up. The bite of your nails digging into his shoulders grounded him, reminding him of what's real, what's important— and right now, making you cum before he did was his top priority.

"Please, please, please, please," he chanted in a gravelly voice, you needed to cum before him, you needed to. Your grabbed his hand to stop him rubbing your clit, your lips colliding with his once more as you fuck him even harder.

"Let go, Curtis," you whisper sweetly into his open mouth, your free hand caressing the side of his face, "let go for me, baby, just let go."

His face crumples as tears prick the corner of his eyes, a loud, broken sob retching from his chest as he cums. You feel the strong muscles of his thighs tremble underneath you, his body going taught as he releases inside of you. He looks like an angel in the fireglow: his head tipped back as he surrenders to the pleasure that wants to drown him, beautiful blue eyes hidden as he screws them shut, his jaw hung open to let out loud moans of unbridled lust, his long beautiful neck exposed and vulnerable to no one but you, trails of tears leaking down the sides of his face, overcome by love and bliss all at once.

You can't help but follow him over that blissful edge, your high carrying you with him as you call out his name. The sound ringing in his ear and reminding him that you were his, and he was yours— and that was real.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @tumblin-theworldaway @runawayolives @smokememories @hawsx3 @slothspaghettiwrites

#curtis everett x you #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans #chris evans fluff #little lion literature

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!!

Prompt - Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them! You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?

You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person. Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively. Cassian grabbed Az's wrist. He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly. He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?" The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning. + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit. Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground. Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower. You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade. + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance. The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it. "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt. "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down. "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb. "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory. "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away. Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics. "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug. + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay. The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child. The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..." Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options. You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade. "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air. "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him. A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been. The thought hit you like a well placed punch. He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home. His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over. You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out. You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader." Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow. "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again. He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days. "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused. "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped. + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket. "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first." Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps. "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings. The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect. You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips. You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child." "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics. He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering. He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot.

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.

can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)

Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 2.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Ushijima

You were having the worst week this week, from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.

Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh

“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”

He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks

“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.

“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”

His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.

As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:

Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.

Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.

When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.

You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.

You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.

Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.

The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’

He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.

He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.

You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.

“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you

“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain

“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.

“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face

“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”

You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.

Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.

Bokuto

The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.

Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.

You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.

The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.

When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.

You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.

It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.

On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.

On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”

Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.

Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.

You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.

Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.

They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.

One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.

‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.

He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.

He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.

You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.

“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes

You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said

The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.

Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu scenarios #haikyu #haikyu angst #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu-fluff #haikyu x reader #ushijima imagine #ushijima oneshot #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #koutarou x reader #bokuto scenarios #signedwithane😌

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 8

Summary: Forced to face their feelings, neither the Darkling nor his wife dare to speak them out loud. Influenced by Genya’s words, Y/N starts to wonder about her husband’s past.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven

=================================

As a young girl, Y/N often daydreamed about her first time. She believed it would be with a kind man who’d move mountains to find her if she called his name. Reality was quite different – this man wasn’t kind, but he’d burn the world for her.

Whether he realized it, she saw through him easily. The Darkling is a symbol, the fear surrounding his name is all for show because he’s not evil. In fact, she’d go as far as say he’s redeemable. Anyone capable of love is capable of being saved and while she didn’t know what he needed saving from, her heart told her he’ll need her. And she knew he cared, she felt it in the way he held her in that tent, and again in the way he’d touch her when he had all the power just the night before.

Moving her head toward the other side of the bed, Y/N looked at her sleeping husband. His lashes are long, thick and dark, a beard that tickled her neck adorning his face. Asleep, his cheekbones were not as sharp, his face much more welcoming and relaxed. He didn’t seem as the formidable foe she imagined him to be.

Aleksander laid on his side, facing her. Pursing her lips, Y/N allowed her eyes to roam over him. His broad chest had a small area of dark, curling hair. His muscles are made large, shapely mounds. His arms are capped by a round, firm muscle. Biting her lower lip, her eyes continued down to his hard, flat stomach with faint lines forming separate areas of muscles, making her swallow thickly. It was only after a moment that her eyes went lower. What she saw did not seem so powerful as it felt the previous night, but as she watched, his manhood began to grow.

She gasped and her eyes flew back to his. He was awake, watching her intently with a smirk, his eyes growing darker by the moment. No longer was he the gentle man she had awakened to, but a man of passion, the general who showed her he was just as capable of leading a woman in the bed as he was of leading an army on the field.

Y/N tried to move away but Aleksander still held her trapped by her hair that strayed on his side, under his back. What was worse, she didn’t even want to fight him. Y/N recalled her plans for him clearly; but this was more than a plan she carelessly implemented. Everything was different now when she had the memory of his body and the pleasure he infused her with when he made love to her. Could that term even be applied to them, she wondered. Did he see it as making love or simply satisfying his needs?

“Stubborn wife,” he whispered and the tone of his voice made chills run along her arms. It’s more than the tone he used or the look of his dark eyes that had her insides turning, but the words he had spoken…it almost felt like a term of endearment coming from him.

Grimacing, she rolled her eyes at him, “Dreadful husband.”

Pursing his lips, he seemed amused rather than insulted.

She was right, their relationship has changed.

Irrevocably.

Last night she had thought she learned all there was to know about love between a man and a woman, but now she thought, perhaps she knew very, very little. There was much more to learn from this man and of this man and how to use that knowledge for her own gain, but right now? She just wanted to let herself go. She wanted to enjoy his company. For once, he was good-natured, playful even. She felt genuinely happy in their little bubble.

For a moment, Y/N wished to stay there. She wished he could always look at her as he is now.

She looked at him, his hair still a mess in the bright morning sunlight. She watched him intently, perplexed how he could look more handsome and more human than she’d ever seen him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He runs his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He’s better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him. How could she be when his fingers have delved lower, pushing inside her?

Gasping, she smiles against his lips. “Genya will be here soon”, she warns him.

"I don't fucking care", he insisted as he crashed into her, his arms wrapping around her like a cage she never wished to escape from. He brought his mouth on hers, inhaling her, "Do you even know what it feels like to be around you?! I can't", he paused as his arms drew away from her and she shuddered as he took the warmth they provided. With bruised lips, she watched as he ran his hand through what used to be perfectly tousled hair. Disheveled, he turns to her, "I can't breathe around you."

She chuckles at him, "Well, I am breathtakingly beautiful."

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling shakes his head, "Well, you're not unattractive. I'll concede on that."

She ran her hands over his back as he lowered his head to her neck, running his tongue along the pulsating beat of her carotid, the only friend he had in her – her pulse couldn’t hide how enamored or exhilarated he made her feel. Instinctively she leaned her head back, her breathing turning deeper, quicker.

When his lips and tongue touched her breasts, she nearly cried out. She thought perhaps she might die under such torture. Trying to pull his head back to her mouth failed as he gave a deep, guttural laugh that made her shiver, her insides turning with the sweet melody and her heart? Her heart felt warm, big and incredibly full.

Maybe he did own her.

A knock on the door had interrupted their bliss as Y/N stiffened, looking at the door in slight panic. If someone saw them right now, no one would doubt their marriage was a successful love match. They seemed happy, truly in love. That’s not how it was meant to be.

“Someone doesn’t value their life”, he grumbled under his breath. “GO AWAY!”

Clasping a hand over his mouth, she chuckled. “Who is it?!”

“General?” Ivan’s voice faded her smile instantly.

Even with Aleksander’s hands cupping her bottom, his body covering her and the door being shut, Y/N felt ashamed as if she was bare in front of the entire world.

“Unless the world is burning, leave me alone!” Pecking Y/N’s lips, he smirked, “I never get a peaceful morning anymore.”

Come to think of it, Y/N never found him in the bed when she woke up. This was the very first night they spent together and he stayed by her side. Considerate was never a word she’d use describing him before, but he is considerate, kind and incredibly cautious when it comes to her. It made her heart sink.

Hearing no word from Ivan, Aleksander’s hand moved. Caressing the inside of her thighs, he made her shake in desire. Holding her breath, she bit her lower lip. Still sore from the night before, she felt her stomach twist as he lined himself up with her entrance once more. Pushing himself inside, he captures her lips as she cries out. The pleasure is undeniable, but she couldn’t deny there was pain too. She clutched at him, her legs pressing around his waist as she rose to meet each thrust. Sweet torment he had inflicted felt as if it would split her in two - one Y/N to plot his demise and the other who’d never let him leave her bed.

Finally, when she was sure her heart would explode, she felt the pulsing throbs that released her and soon after, Y/N felt him speed up and his own release followed. Collapsing on top of her, Aleksander held her so close that she could hardly breathe. In that moment she didn’t really care if she ever did breathe again.

Aleksander didn’t move, still buried deep inside her as if she is his saving grace. It’s insane to think he could fuck her into submission and feelings. It was impossible to ignore the fact that she developed feelings for him, but that realization created doubts. Eventually, something will have to break – and the thought of hurting him suddenly felt too much to bear.

“Are you alright?” He moved her hair out of her face, remaining on top of her as if she’s a conquered territory he refused to leave.

Swallowing thickly, she nods. “Why aren’t you moving?”

Eyes widening, the Darkling felt heat rush to his face. He was trying to be sweet, to show her it was more than a quick fuck. It was indescribable for him – a dawn after a long night he’s lived in. No woman ever lessened the loneliness inside his heart and then she waltzed into his life. He couldn’t imagine living without her again. She was the northern star in his dark sky and he never wanted to leave.

“I should see Ivan about earlier”, he murmured, nearly wincing as he pulled out. She wrapped herself up in the sheets again, her eyes wide as she stared ahead, thinking about how badly she’s already failing her mission.

Frowning as she shifted, Y/N felt Aleksander’s semen leave her. She cleared her throat, her eyes watering. She felt disgusted with herself, like she needed her skin rubbed off with scalding hot water and peeled off if that didn’t work. She could feel him, smell him on every inch of her skin and the worst of it all? She loathed just how cold she felt when his arms weren’t wrapped around her. She absolutely detested how giddy her heart felt when she saw the shit-eating grin on his face as he brought her to climax.

“When will we visit the armies by the fold?” She asked, switching into the woman she is instead of the woman she’s molded into by his lips.

Impassive, he looked back at her as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. “Why? Don’t believe I’ve kept my word?”

It unnerved her just how cold his voice felt, how impersonal. Standing, she wrapped the nightgown around her body. Taking his kefta in her hands, she held it open for him to slip into.

His eyes flicker from the kefta to her, as if he’s confused as well. It felt odd not knowing their place now. Their previous dynamic was easy to settle into, bickering felt like second nature. Conversing without spewing venom brought unfamiliar discomfort mostly because they’d much rather return to the bed behind them. Leaving that room carried an unspoken possibility of their time together being nothing but a fluke – a onetime deal. The outside world carries responsibilities, the kind that places them on opposite sides of the war.

“Thank you”, he turns around, allowing her to help dress him. Wives do that, he realized. Loving wives help their husbands dress just as often as they help them undress. Husbands do the same for their wives – though he much preferred the undressing part.

He kissed her brow unexpectedly, eyes flickering to her trembling lips as they passed a surprised gasp. “I know you want to see the results on a field, but rest assured I’ve kept my word.” Licking his lips, he reached for a glass from behind her. Pouring himself a glass, he watched her gnaw on her lower lip. For once, the ice queen showed there are emotions inside her capable of more than just disdain.

Breaking out of her daze, she cleared her throat. “I prefer to have confirmation”, she remarked.

Snorting, he looks up in frustration. He wanted to grab her by the throat as he would with any other human who’d dare challenge him, question him. In his mind, he pinned her to the bed, his hands wrapped around her delicate little wrists. ‘Don’t play games with me’, he’d say, ‘Don’t ever think you’re capable of that.’ He wanted so badly to treat her the same, as an enemy, but she had done something to him. No matter how hard he wished he could fight it, something inside him came to life – his heart beats unburdened by the shadows, for her. It was always going to be her.

“I guess I’m asking you to trust me”, he looked at her with a softness he visibly struggled with. His hand griped the glass far too tightly for it to fool her. He was hurt by her insinuation and she didn’t know how to respond.

“Aleksander.” Calling him by his first name for the first time felt so natural, but terrifying as his eyes lit up when it crossed her lips.

He shuddered. “Say it again”, he commanded, his eyes darkened as he pressed his lips together.

The look on her face would surely haunt him for an eternity. She was shocked, maybe even frightened. She didn’t mean to call him by his name, she had made a mistake and he could read it on her face.

She spun, fleeing into the bathroom. She ran from him like he had come to steal her soul. He thought about chasing after her, but it would be futile. She would return on her own. She lost the game, she was his. He swallowed his whisky and smiled. Perhaps the way his heart fluttered at the sound of his true name passing her lips should have been a sign he lost the game too, but he didn’t give it a second thought.

She is his.

Once he left, she did exactly as she wished – she scrubbed herself clean of any remainders of him. He’ll walk around with her scent clinging to him, but she will not be branded his. Though her hips bear his markings, she felt satisfied they were easily covered with a kefta.

“You don’t have to say it”, Genya raised an eyebrow at the shadows of Kirigan’s fingertips across her friend’s hips.

“Say what?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, her heart picking up pace.

Smirking, Genya lowered her voice, “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N, exhaled audibly through her nose. “It wasn’t terrible.”

“Ha!” Genya clapped her hands, “We are winning today!”

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N turned her undivided attention to an overly excited Genya. “Care to explain?”

“Well”, she shrugged innocently, “I may have found us a new ally.”

Stunned, Y/N sat on the edge of the bathtub. “Who?”

“David”, Genya exclaimed.

“Isn’t he Kirigan’s little…pet?”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya huffed, “No! He’s a brilliant man and he believes in equality and a brighter future.”

“But can we trust him with the secret?”

Swallowing thickly, Genya paused. Inhaling deeply, she nods. “I’d vouch for him.”

“I need concrete proof”, Y/N sighs, “This isn’t going to end well for us if he decides to spill everything to Kirigan!”

Rubbing her temples, Y/N felt as if the pressure inside her head would cause her brain to burst. It’s pressing in, choking every good idea she’s ever had.

“What would happen if he did know?” Genya crouched before her. With her hands on Y/N’s knees, Genya sighed. “Maybe he’d be receptive too.”

Snorting, Y/N couldn’t believe how naïve Genya is. “No. He’d be too angry to see the big picture.”

It didn’t matter that he’s begun colonizing Y/N’s heart or that every inch of her skin craved the touch of his hand. It felt as if she were invincible when he stood beside her, as if he had made her fireproof. No scar hurt when he kissed her, no grief was too difficult to bear when he looked at her.

“Damn it”, Y/N covered her face, “I want to believe in him, I do.” She couldn’t help but wonder if her feelings are the aftermath of the night he saved her life or the night of ecstasy he had given her. Is it really genuine emotion or did her heart move to her vagina?

“So believe”, Genya encouraged. A sympathetic smile adorned her full lips, her eyes kinder than before.

“How can I ever trust him when he’s got a superiority complex regarding humans? He’s never going to willingly protect one!”

“He did with you”, Genya pressed her lips into a thin line. “You’re paranoid because you are afraid allowing yourself to see the good in him might actually make you love him.”

And she is. She’s afraid to love him or let him love her. What would be the point? In the end, they’re too different.

“Talk to David again”, Y/N stood, sniffling. “I’ll head to the library.”

Genya raised an eyebrow. “Library?”

The first casualty of war is innocence and Y/N had none left. She was once called ‘angel’ by her father, by her comrades in the army too. She was the epitome of a pure heart who would sacrifice itself for others. She didn’t feel like an angel anymore, but she will play the part. No one expects an angel to set the world on fire.

“Yeah”, Y/N breathes out. “I want to look for something.” Truth be told, she wanted to research Aleksander and his lineage.

If the dark heretic is from his bloodline, she needed to know everything about him, about the hearts of those he came from. If she’s ever going to consider her husband as an ally, she has to know him – all of him. If she asked, she worried he’d cover up the darkest parts of him. He’d deem her too human to understand, too fragile to know all the horrors that tie into who he’s become.

It was time to find out if she could trust Aleksander.

=============================

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Part 9

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone

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fruitoftheweek · 3 years

Text

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

Tag List: @spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @spencersmagic @uhuhuh @living-for-romance @aharvey979 @xoxo-jnh-xoxo @marrymespencerrei @crypticcorvidinacottage , @ladydragoneye , @stjoaninthewildwest

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

just a kid [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: you're a field medic at the Avengers Tower and get into an accident where you hurt your head. It was only supposed to be a mild concussion, yet things don't seem to be going right when you try to remember the accident.

warning/s: mentions of violent/dark scenes.

author's note: here’s the first of a little two-parter I worked on not long ago, hope you all like it!

part two | masterlist | wattpad

I woke up with heavy eyes and an aching head, momentarily dazed.

"Hey there, Doctor Y/L/N... can you hear me okay?"

Breathing deeply, I found the energy to clear my throat and scan the view above me. I was laying down on a bed, in a hospital room, I think. The lights were ever so bright and I now knew how annoying it felt to wake up like this as my patients had.

"What happened?" I asked, eyes roaming around until they settled on my doctor. "Doctor Maya? What am I–? Why am I here?"

I recognised Doctor Maya as a colleague of mine, though unlike me, she was a doctor who worked at the Avengers Tower whereas I worked as a field medic so was more on the move. The only reason I'd be here is if I was in an accident. Was I? I wasn't sure.

"Something happened when you were on your last mission," she explained gently. "I– hold on. I'm going to get Miss Maximoff, okay?"

"Wanda?" I asked, furrowing my brows and pinching them to relieve the stress in my head. "Where is she? Is she here?"

"She just nipped out," Doctor Maya said, before backing up. "One second, Y/N."

She left the room momentarily, leaving me to try and remember what had happened. I was on the quinjet and was getting briefed with my team. There were casualties that we had to get to and an agent– an agent I was helping, yes!

I groaned, clutching my head when I tried to remember. Deciding I shouldn't push myself so soon, I waited until the doctor returned with Wanda. Maybe they could tell me how I ended up here. I wasn't exactly injured, at least not physically and that I knew of. My head hurt and that was about it.

The door to my room opened suddenly and I looked that way, seeing Wanda rushing in wearing her civilian clothing. The doctor followed soon after, gently closing the door behind her.

"You're awake," Wanda said with relief, stopping by my bedside. Her hand rested on mine, squeezing it comfortingly. "How are you feeling?"

I smiled upon seeing her, even if she was staring at me like I was a fragile piece of glass. We'd been dating for a while now and she always had the power to make me feel better with her presence.

"I'm alright," I promised. "Just a bit confused to what happened. The last thing I remember is going into the field. Then I woke up here."

She chewed on her lower lip, exchanging unreadable glances with the doctor.

"There was a mine that detonated near you when you were helping an injured agent," Wanda explained softly, and I opened my mouth to speak, but she quickly added, "The agent is okay before you ask. But you hit your head from the impact. Mild concussion."

"That's why your head hurts and you're having trouble remembering," the doctor said, earning my attention. "You should be feeling better soon. And I've got some medication for the pain."

Now that Wanda mentioned it, I did vaguely recall being thrown back by a blast. But remembering it was like watching a film with poor satellite, the screen fuzzing around the edges and remaining unclear even though you focused hard. I was sure it would return to me soon.

"Thanks," I said, before attempting to sit up straight. Wanda helped me as I looked to her with gratitude before paying my attention back to Doctor Maya. "Am I alright to leave?"

"Of course, yeah," she said, nodding quickly. "Feel free to come back if you have any trouble. You should be okay though."

I nodded and smiled gratefully before watching her leave. Sighing, I pushed my hair from my face and looked to Wanda who was hanging by me patiently, eyes twinkling with concern.

"I'm fine," I promised her with a knowing look.

She gave me a small smile – her way of saying I'm still worried, but I'll dial it down – then moved to the chair beside the bed and grabbed some clothes.

"You can change into this," she said about the clothes in her hand, and I was sure they were some of hers; mine must have been ruined from the mine. "And if you want, you can stay with me whilst you recover."

I raised my eyebrows as I accepted the clothes. "You sure? It's nothing serious. I can take care of myself."

She shrugged, eyes avoiding mine with embarrassment as her hands played with mine. "I wanna help. I like looking after you... plus, you've stayed at mine before. This isn't any different. And you can be closer to Doctor Maya in case anything is wrong."

I weighed the decision briefly before giving in, unable to resist how cute she was when she was worried. "Okay, yeah, sure, why not?" She smiled widely, and I added, "Any excuse to cuddle with you, right?"

She chuckled. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Just let me get ready and we can head to your room. I'm actually a little tired."

She nodded and helped me up so I could get ready. I didn't think much of the whole thing, until later that night when I fell asleep beside Wanda.

My dreams never usually meant much. I wasn't one for reading into them, nor was I one to get seriously affected by 'nightmares', knowing they were usually a concoction of bad horror films and stupid ghost stories from my childhood.

But tonight was different.

It wasn't a dream and it wasn't a nightmare, but rather a memory that couldn't exist.

There was debris everywhere, a mixture of yellow rays blinding my sight with dark shadows looming over me. Destroyed buildings and scattered bodies – none were alive – surrounded me. The heat was too much, but I had a job. I knew I had a job, but I couldn't focus because of how fast my heart was racing, beating an incessant drum in my ears, and how rigid my body felt.

"Help!" a voice was shouting. A young girl, I think – she sounded like a kid. Who was it?

Before I could make sense of anything, I heard a loud noise, like an explosion, that sounded so close yet also extremely distant. Nonetheless, my eardrums weren't spared. The mine, maybe? Was this a memory? Was this how I got hurt?

I was thrown back, head hitting a wall, but I didn't pass out. There was a figure looming over me, short, like a child's shadow, but with no visible face or features. Nothing, actually, just a dark outline staring at me though I couldn't stare back because there was nothing to stare at.

The shouts for help returned, but it was distant like the explosion. I couldn't make sense of anything, and when I closed my eyes to blink, I opened them to find debris washing over me all over again, flying in the air along with my body. It had to be the explosion, my memory returning.

This time, when I hit the wall, I woke with a start. My eyes snapped open, taking in the dark room and nightly blue hue casting over the ceiling and walls. I swallowed hard, finding my breath, and raised my hand to gently massage my forehead. An aching pain was shooting all over, forcing me to sit up as slowly as I could as to not wake up Wanda, who appeared to be fast asleep beside me.

I checked the clock beside her bed and saw it was closing on half three in the morning. I went to bed around nine, which was also when I last had my medication. Doctor Maya said I could have it every five to seven hours and when I got a severe headache.

"I guess this counts...," I mumbled to myself, before grabbing the medication and bottle of water beside the clock.

I downed the two tablets within seconds before sitting upright for a few more minutes, needing a moment to myself before attempting to get back to sleep.

"Y/N...? Are you up?"

I winced at the sound of Wanda's groggy voice, immediately feeling bad for waking her. I turned around and saw her rubbing her eyes with one hand whilst blinking away her fatigue.

"Just have a headache, don't worry," I reassured quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "You can go back to sleep."

"Do you need me to get you anything?" she asked, finally able to keep her eyes open long enough to meet my gaze with her cloudy green ones.

I smiled through my exhaustion. "I'm okay, love. I've had some medicine."

"Well, I can get you something to–" she began, trying to make a move to sit up, but I pushed her back down gently.

"I'm okay," I repeated sternly, before slipping back into bed beside her. Wrapping an arm around her torso, I said, "Get back to sleep."

She nodded tiredly, getting comfortable and pulling me closer to her. I felt her arm wrap around me as I snuggled closer, relaxing in her embrace.

"Wake me if something is wrong," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you, too," I returned, kissing the closest thing to me which was her chest. "Goodnight."

Admittedly, it was still difficult for me to fall back asleep. It must have been no longer than ten minutes when I heard Wanda's breathing and felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath me – she'd fallen back asleep. I sighed, slightly jealous, but stayed close to her and tried not to think about my accident or my weird dream/nightmare. Eventually, slumber found me.

The next morning, I didn't exactly feel well-rested, but I didn't want to concern Wanda nor draw attention to it as I knew it was probably just a rough first night. Instead, I let myself get distracted with Wanda wanting to cook me breakfast.

I soon found myself in the kitchen, sitting at the island and watching Wanda cook some pancakes for us both with an endearing smile on my lips. She was still in her pyjamas like me, her red hair pulled into a messy ponytail as an afterthought, and she radiated beauty. Right there, I could only wish my future looked exactly like this.

My moment of admiration was interrupted when someone came into the kitchen, earning our attention. It was Sam, one of the Avengers and a colleague of Wanda's.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted with a smile. Already dressed for the day ahead, he asked, "Do I smell pancakes?"

"They're for Y/N, so back off," Wanda said playfully, pointing her spatula at him threateningly.

He raised his hands with defeat as I chuckled.

"Relax, I've got a shake," he said, grabbing said protein shake from the fridge. "Enjoy your pancakes." He glanced to me, expression softening as he added, "And I hope you feel better, Y/N. I heard about your accident."

"Thank you, Sam," I said gratefully, noticing the way Wanda flinched at his words. "I'm already feeling better, so..."

"That's great," he said genuinely, before looking between us. "I'll catch you guys later."

We both waved our goodbyes to him as he left. I wanted to question what was up with Wanda just then, but as Sam left the kitchen, the door slammed shut and startled me more than I thought it would. The noise sounded so familiar, so loud, kind of like what I heard last night in my dream. It must have been the mine when it exploded, a ghost of a memory that was returning. But that didn't seem right. Why didn't that seem right?

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up, only to notice she was now standing by my side and looking down at me with concern.

I licked my lips, nodding. "Yeah, sorry, I just... yeah. I'm fine."

Her eyes were swimming with doubt, but she chose to say nothing. Instead, to my relief, she pulled me close, giving me a quick hug which I appreciated. As my head rested against her chest, I tried to ignore the familiar striking pain travelling around my forehead.

—

It was two nights later when another strange dream plagued my sleep. Similar to last time, there was a strange combination of scenes that I was sure I remembered and scenes that made no sense. This time though, all that I could feel was a tenseness in my whole body, like I was in a frozen state and my mind and body couldn't communicate. I couldn't move, paralysed by... fear? Shock? Disbelief? I didn't know what it was, but I woke up in the same way.

I'd heard of sleep paralysis, even experienced it a few times without realising. I think this was one of those times, with my body frozen in bed beside Wanda, but I didn't know it at the time. It just felt like a horribly-real dream. The room was dark, the familiar, yet unsettling, nightly blue hue casting shadows on the wall. But on the ceiling, bright and terrifying scenes played out before me. An explosion. Debris. Screaming.

None of it made sense and all I could feel was shock, horrified at how I couldn't move a muscle even if I tried. I tilted my head, seeing the alarm clock glowing red in the dark, letting me know it was past midnight. To the left, I saw a sleeping Wanda, lost in her dreams and unable to help me. I wanted to get up, run my hands over my face, have some water, open a window, do something. But I couldn't move. All I could do was watch the nightmare dance across the ceiling as my heart struggled to beat regularly and my lungs struggled to get enough oxygen.

I didn't know how long I was stuck like that, tears brimming my eyes and body paralysed with fear. But it finally ended and I opened my eyes, only to find the ceiling blank and myself able to move. Reluctantly, I lifted my hand, wiping the tears from my cheeks. It was just a dream (or form of sleep paralysis in hindsight). It wasn't real. But God, it felt horribly terrifying.

Admittedly, I was scared to go back to sleep for fear it would occur again. So, my eyes stayed wide awake, burning with exhaustion, and I continued to stare at the shadows on the wall, feeling my heart pounding in my ears.

I must have fallen asleep again at some point, as I woke up the next morning to Wanda getting out of bed. Sitting up in bed, I looked around and found the fear of last night wearing off now that the room was bathed in the morning light. Still, I was more shaken than I thought.

Not wanting to draw attention to it though, I let the day go on as usual, deciding to appreciate the free time I had from work to spend with Wanda. We decided to go to the park for a walk – Wanda thought it would help get me out of the Tower and I was hoping the fresh air would give me some clarity and help me to recover.

Only, it did the opposite.

We were walking hand in hand, myself listening to Wanda as she chatted about something that happened in training. If I'm being honest, I wasn't really listening; my thoughts were preoccupied with the jumbled mess that was my mind. Glimpses of memories were dancing across my head, teasing me with elements of the truth I couldn't quite make out.

My eyes drifted around mindlessly, settling on a little girl playing by the swings with her parents. I didn't think much of it, but then the familiar shouts for help from my nightmare plagued my mind, making me flinch. The dark, looming shadow returned and I suddenly felt a headache coming on, the pressure against my brain making me nauseous.

I stopped abruptly, letting go of Wanda's hand. She stopped speaking, turning around and furrowing her brows with concern.

"Hey, Y/N, what's wrong?" she asked, and I winced, clutching my head to relieve the pain.

The wave of nausea left after a moment, but the headache remained. I heard Wanda repeat my name quietly, sensing my discomfort.

"I think I need to see Doctor Maya again," I finally found my words.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, resting a hand on my cheek and tilting my head up to meet her eyes. "You can tell me."

Her eyes were reassuring, calming me in an instant. I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn't want to burden her with my anxieties, so I offered her a small smile.

"I just don't think my recovery is as straightforward as I thought," I settled. "She may be able to help."

Wanda chewed her lower lip, nodding slowly. Thankfully, she didn't question me anymore. Instead, she took me back to the Tower to see Doctor Maya. I was grateful as she waited with me for her to be free, until I had to convince her I'd be okay going in myself.

"Are you sure? I don't mind," she said, exchanging looks with Doctor Maya, who looked away quickly.

I glanced between them, mildly confused, but nodded to Wanda. "I'd rather go alone, Wanda. I'll be okay."

She nodded, squeezed my hands comfortingly, then let me go. When I headed into Doctor Maya's office, she took a seat behind her desk and motioned for me to sit before her.

"You said this was urgent," she spoke first, after I took a seat opposite. "Is everything okay?"

I licked my lips, looking down at my hand as it scratched the arm of the chair nervously. "No... not really."

After a moment of hesitation and partial embarrassment, since I knew this was only supposed to be a mild concussion that felt like so much more, I explained everything that happened to Doctor Maya. The odd dreams/nightmares, the headaches, the overlapping memories and sleep paralysis. As hard as it was to relive, I told her everything in hopes she had an answer that maybe I hadn't realised.

When I finished speaking, she looked distracted with her own thoughts. I waited patiently, watching as she nodded to herself before looking to me calmly.

"It doesn't seem like anything to worry about, truthfully," she said, which I didn't expect. "You suffered a mild concussion, yes, but it must have rattled you more than we thought. The dreams and trouble sleeping are a result of your headaches and returning memories. You do remember what happened, right?"

I nodded, though something felt incorrect. "I think so, yes. I was helping an agent when a mine went off. I was thrown back, covered in debris. Hit my head."

She hummed. "Yes... and you're taking your medication?"

Another nod. "Of course. I just want to get better. The sooner I do, the sooner I can return to work."

"Then it seems that your only opponent is stress and impatience," she said simply. "You need to relax. Keep taking your meds. Try not to worry about returning to work just yet. Focus on getting better. I can prescribe you some sleeping pills if you think that will help."

Sighing disappointedly, I nodded. I was expecting more to be honest, possibly an explanation. Her words made sense logically, but it still didn't feel right. Nonetheless, I didn't want to hold her up any longer, so I let her prescribe me some more medication before leaving. Maybe I'd give relaxing a shot.

—

"It's a meatball."

I stifled a laugh as I studied the oddly shaped ball of meat in Wanda's hand. "Is it?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "It is otherwise you're making your own meal."

I laughed, pressing a haste kiss to her cheek. "Okay, okay, it's a meatball. Add it to the tray."

We were cooking spaghetti and meatballs for dinner about six days after my incident out in the field. I was still staying with Wanda at the Tower, and I was taking Doctor Maya's advice with my recovery. I didn't worry myself with returning to work which, admittedly, helped out, and the sleeping pills knocked me out long enough to get a good sleep. Though, sometimes the nightmares would still return. I didn't think about them too much though, not wanting them to hinder my recovery. Instead, I focused on getting better with my very supportive girlfriend by my side.

Wanda added the meatball to the baking tray, alongside the others, but as she reached to form another one from the bowl full of minced meat, she accidentally knocked it to the floor. The meat splattered across the tiles, making her gasp.

"Shit," she cursed, eyes widening slightly.

"Very clever," I teased with a smile.

"Let me just–"

"I got it," I cut her off, already bending to clear it up. "Just put the tray in the oven, yeah? Try not to drop it."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

I looked up in time to see her rolling her eyes playfully, but she grabbed the tray as I said.

I kneeled down, scooping the meat up and throwing it in the bowl, knowing it would have to go in the bin now. As I did, I realised how familiar the meat looked. Pink and flesh-like, covering my hands and sticking to me. Suddenly, my hands were shaking, the fleshy bits surrounded by blood, and I tried to blink away the sight, expecting to just see minced meat, but I couldn't. They were covered in what I somehow knew was the flesh of body parts.

Startled, I fell back onto my butt, my back hitting the drawer behind me and pulling me from my daydream. Wanda looked down at me with confusion, before sensing something was wrong and leaning down beside me. She rested a hand on my head, thumb stroking my forehead.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused eyes staring between me and my hands which were still shaking. She grabbed the tea towel from the counter above us before wiping my hands for me and holding them. "Y/N. This has happened a few times. Please tell me what happened."

I was still shaken, unsure why there was a discomfort in the pit of my stomach. I risked glancing at my hands, which were clean and no longer covered in human fle– I mean, meat.

"I don't know what's going on," I finally admitted to her, shaking my head. "It's like my thoughts aren't my own. I can't control them. I just keep seeing stuff that isn't real."

She frowned, eyes peering through mine patiently.

"I still can't remember what happened with the mine," I said, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. "It's like, I know what happened and I know it's real, but when I try to remember, it just doesn't happen quite right. The picture doesn't appear. And I don't know why."

She pressed her lips together, jaw clenching slightly. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"What did the doctor say?" she asked lowly.

I sighed, the discomfort still lining my stomach. "She thinks I just need time."

Wanda nodded, finally lifting her gaze. "Maybe she's right."

I knitted my brows together with frustration, nudging her away and standing up. "I don't need time! I'm a doctor, too. I know it shouldn't take this long. It was a mild concussion. I've treated hundreds of those."

"Y/N–"

"Just forget it," I said with exasperation, pulling away from her as she tried to reach out again. I knew it was uncalled for, taking it out on her for no reason, but I was too frustrated with the situation to care. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk."

She sighed from behind me, running a hand through her hair. I left her in the kitchen, suddenly not in the mood to eat. Clearly all of Doctor Maya's advice wasn't working – what I was experiencing wasn't normal. I needed to see her again.

So, after cleaning my hands properly and having a walk around the Tower to clear my head (as expected, it didn't work), I headed to Doctor Maya's office, hoping she was still in work today. To my surprise, when I reached her office, I saw her door was slightly ajar and she was already speaking to someone. My intention wasn't to eavesdrop, but when I heard my name said in a hushed whisper from a familiar voice, I knew I had to stay.

"...can't say anything," Wanda finished. "She'll get better."

Doctor Maya sounded frustrated. "It's not right, Miss Maximoff. This is against everything I stand for. Against everything Y/N stands for, too, I'm sure."

"This is for her benefit," Wanda snapped, before taking a deep breath. "Look, she can't handle the truth. It'll break her... I haven't worked out the kinks, but it'll be okay. She'll get better."

What the hell were they talking about? What truth could I not handle? Wanda and the doctor were in on something together, something they didn't want me to know... and it was something to do with why I was feeling like how I was. I knew I wasn't going insane – something was wrong!

I left them to it with plans of seeing the doctor afterwards, not wanting to get caught, and tried to wrap my head around the fact that Wanda had been keeping something from me this whole time. How could she? I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I thought that we could trust each other.

What was she hiding?

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