#of course will would resist (kind of like him screaming 'go away' at the mind flayer in st2) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jayden-writes · 10 months

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ab irato

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

word count: ~3.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: mental breakdown, self-deprecation, self-harm (not graphic)

summary: When you break under the pressure of keeping up with Devildom curriculum, an unlikely demon comes to your aid.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

Too much. Too much. You couldn't breathe. The steady slamming of your fists against your thighs as you were sitting on the edge of your bed did nothing to help you feel grounded. You needed to rip yourself apart, break your body open or the anger would tear through the seams of your being, engulfing you in an inferno and burning you into cinder. Flames were raging in your body, licking at your soul, your heart, your lungs. You wanted to scream until your throat was raw, but you couldn’t make a sound other than ragged attempts at breathing and angry whimpers.

This was going to kill you, you knew it, you could feel yourself decaying in real-time, your head swimming, rushing in your ears and your lungs constricted as your body was slowly being consumed by the fire. Until, out of nowhere, the movement of your fists stilled. It took you a few seconds to realize that there were strong hands clad in black gloves keeping them in place despite your resistance against them. Gradually, the image of Lucifer kneeling in front of you registered in your dazed mind and you met his gaze.

His lips were moving, though you were unable to make out what he was saying amidst the utter chaos in your head, even the expression he was wearing on his face was entirely lost on you. However, you could feel his hands squeezing yours rhythmically in an unsuccessful attempt to ground you. He kept up the effort for a few moments, but eventually he carefully loosened the hold he had on you, only fully letting go once he was sure you wouldn’t continue hitting yourself. Then he left.

As soon as the door had closed behind him a sob tore through your throat and hot tears of shame started running down your cheeks, scorching your skin. You hid your face in your hands and cried, feeling yourself getting more upset than you already were. Of course he wouldn’t want to be around when you were acting like this, what were you expecting? In the five months you had known him he hadn’t been particularly caring or kind towards you - mostly keeping his interactions with you to a bare minimum, only making sure you wouldn’t die during your stay in the Devildom - so obviously he couldn’t be bothered to take care of a human having a pathetic mental breakdown.

You felt the blaze burning even stronger, your fingers quickly moving to your hair, yanking at it desperately, although that brought you no reprieve either. Suddenly the mattress dipped down right next to you and something cold was pressed on the nape of your neck. It was such an abrupt and stark contrast to the conflagration that was raging inside of you that you instinctively tried moving away from it, but an unyielding arm promptly held you in place, forcing you to let the cold seep through your skin and your body. Within a few seconds you became completely still, your hands dropping into your lap. Your lungs ached when they fully expanded again for the first time in what felt like an eternity as you took deep, shuddering breaths while the shock of the icy feeling worked its way through your insides, smothering the flames that had been consuming you. The rushing in your ears ceased and your vision became less blurry. Finally, you could hear yourself crying and the tension in your muscles slowly dissipated. The restraining arm that had been keeping you in place disappeared, but the cold thing on your nape remained.

There were no words spoken as your tears slowly came to a stop and your breathing slowed down, a feeling of exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Why?” you whispered, shifting slightly to face Lucifer without looking him in the eye.

“What exactly do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he put his arm down, removing an ice pack from your neck.

“Why are you here? I don’t… I don’t understand. It’s not like I was in physical danger, you could have just… left me alone.”

“Because,” he replied after a few beats of silence, “Lord Diavolo has tasked me with taking care of your well-being, mental and physical alike.”

Your shoulders sagged at that and you turned away from him. Of course he was only doing this because of Lord Diavolo and not because he genuinely cared. How foolish of you, to think otherwise.

“Right…” you muttered, feeling your throat closing up, “you can go then. I’ll be fine, I can handle myself for now.”

Lucifer exhaled heavily as he contemplated his next words.

“I would rather not leave you alone at this time,” his voice was firm, making you scoff.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that would put your oh-so-important exchange program in jeopardy. There’s no need for you to stick around any longer,” you spoke, hurt clearly audible in your voice despite your efforts to mask it with an indifferent tone. His eyes were fixed on you, studying your form for a few seconds before speaking once more.

“That’s not the only reason,” he replied with a sigh. You frowned and turned to him with an incredulous look in your eyes.

“Oh, so now you care?” you asked, voice brimming with bitterness. He let out a short chuckle, mouth twisting into a small, wry smile.

“Whether you believe it or not, watching you suffer brings me no pleasure,” he examined your bewildered expression with amusement for a bit, then his face grew serious again.

“I wish to help you through this, if you would let me. I want you to rely on me, to trust me with your pain,” he reached out an ungloved hand, thumb brushing gently across your cheek as you gaped at him in astonishment. “I will not leave your side, not unless you send me away.”

Lucifer’s gaze carried a small hint of concern and fondness, and you couldn’t remember ever seeing such emotions on his usually well-guarded face. You kept staring at him, not knowing what to say, but the touch of his hand felt nice and soothing and you couldn’t help wanting to accept his offer. With a stifled yawn you leaned into the contact and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment of tenderness.

“You must be exhausted,” he said in a soft voice, “perhaps it would be best if you rested for some time. I will stay with you - if you are amenable.”

“That would be nice,” you muttered, fatigue taking hold of you. His hand disappeared from your cheek and you opened your eyes again, watching him take off his shoes and coat and lie down on the bed. You followed suit and let your weary body sink into the mattress, keeping a respectful distance from him. Some time later you felt him gently stroking your hair, the touch a steady reminder of his presence.

While you tried to relax and fall asleep, remnants of your emotions caught up with you and your body began shaking, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t want to cry again, you were so tired of it. But Lucifer, perceptive as ever, paused his movements and you could hear him coming closer to you. His arm moved underneath your neck, holding your shoulder and pulling you towards him. Soon enough your head was lying on his chest and his other arm was resting on your waist. The carefulness of his hold only served to make you feel more raw on the inside, a whimper escaping your mouth against your will as tears started cascading down your cheeks, soaking through the fabric of his clothes. Lucifer remained quiet, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers as your body shook with sobs and you clung to him, seeking comfort in his steadfast embrace until you calmed down.

It was completely silent aside from his steady breathing and your occasional sniffles and hiccups. He kept caressing your body and eventually you drifted off to sleep.

When you began waking up the following morning you were still too groggy to comprehend your surroundings, though you felt safe and warm and you would have stayed that way forever, but then a deep voice cut through the serenity.

“Did you sleep well?”

Startled, your eyes shot open and the first thing you saw was Lucifer’s face a few inches away from yours as the memories of last night came flooding back.

“You really stayed,” you muttered, genuine surprise in your voice.

“Of course I did, I always stay true to my word,” he easily replied, running a hand through his disheveled hair. You were still wrapped up in his arms, marvelling at the unguarded look on his face. Before you knew it you moved a hand to cup his cheek, fully expecting him to withdraw or get annoyed, but to your amazement he didn't. Instead, he stayed still and gazed at you with a look in his eyes you couldn't identify. It almost mesmerized you; however, you shook yourself out of your reverie and sat up with a heavy sigh. Lucifer kept looking at you, but you stared at your hands that were laying in your lap.

It was silent for a bit as you thought about last night, a grave feeling washing over you the more you ruminated.

“You can go now,” you mumbled, eyes flicking up to look Lucifer in the face.

“Excuse me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to hang around any longer; you did your duty,” you said, a tinge of sadness in your tone.

”Why would I not?”

“Why would you want to stay? Just because you don't enjoy seeing me suffer? Please. I appreciate what you did last night, I really do, but you can now stop pretending that you give a shit.”

“I’m not pre-” he started saying while he sat up, only to be cut off by you.

“Yes, of course you are. I mean- what even am I compared to you? I'm… I’m nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm weak, there's nothing special about me. I'm just a human,” you kept ranting.

“Don't-”

“And compared to most other humans I'm still pathetic and weak. I freaked out like this over stupid homework. Over homework! And it wasn't even the first time and it won't be the last time either,” you didn't know what you were saying anymore, the words kept coming as you worked yourself into a frenzy, your shoulders heaving as you were breathing heavily.

“Stop-” he tried again to no avail, sounding exasperated.

“I am nothing but a burden and a risk to the program. I shouldn't- I shouldn’t be here! You picked the worst fucking human in existence for this- this important project and now you have to worry about me ruining everything! Why else would you even bother with-”

Out of nowhere your face was grabbed by Lucifer's hands and his lips met yours. He soon pulled away again, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“I will not have you talking about yourself in such a degrading manner”, he warned you, an angry edge to his voice, “none of what you said is even remotely true and I refuse to stand by idly and let you say such things.”

The kiss and his words stunned you into silence. Your mind was racing, and you didn’t know what to say or what to think.

“Listen to me very closely”, he spoke in a low and commanding tone, his hands still framing your face tightly, “do you truly think I would spend my valuable time with you like this if I only cared about the program?”

“I- I don't know? Probably not…?” you questioned. The weight of his words and actions was slowly beginning to sink in and the doubts in your mind began to dim.

“Precisely. There are no ulterior motives; I have nothing to gain from such actions. I did what I did because I wanted to, that’s all there is to it. Do you understand?”

“I- I think so, yes,” you muttered, the hands holding your face loosening their grasp ever so slowly.

“From now on, I want you to reach out to me any time you begin to feel overwhelmed in this manner. I will not allow you to deal with this by yourself again, am I making myself clear?”

“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want, then I guess I can do that,” came your not entirely truthful reply as you turned your head away from him to avoid his piercing stare. He sighed and shifted your face back towards him.

“I mean it”, Lucifer emphasized, his voice and expression softer now, “let me be there for you.”

More and more of your doubts were disappearing by the minute, the way he was looking at you made you believe in his sincerity.

“Okay, I will contact you when this happens again, I promise. But… I need to know what changed. Why are you suddenly being so nice to me? And why did you… kiss me?”

For a few seconds, his eyes flickered away, avoiding yours, but he quickly recovered.

“Why? Because I wanted to. I wanted to ease your pain, and I wanted to kiss you,” he answered casually, moving his hand to your chin and brushing a thumb over your lips.

“You can’t kiss someone simply because you want to,” you stated indignantly, face blushing furiously.

“Why not? Are you telling me you did not like it?” Lucifer asked, a smug smile on his face.

“I-It’s not about that!” you exclaimed.

“Ah, but I don’t hear you denying it either.”

“I don’t- I don’t want to be kissed on just a whim,” you huffed.

“I never do anything on ‘just a whim’. You are worth more than that,” his teasing smile became tender as he said that and he moved closer. You felt your pulse beginning to race, pounding in your chest as if it was trying to break out of your ribcage. The emotions that were swirling inside you were overwhelming; there was confusion and irritation, but you also had butterflies in your stomach that were fluttering around wildly, making you feel incredibly flushed.

“W-what are you doing?” you whispered nervously, feeling his breath on your skin.

“Merely showing you how much I meant it, if I may?”

Everything around you felt fuzzy and almost unreal, but you managed to nod. He closed the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing lightly against yours. Compared to the earlier kiss, this one felt much more deliberate and gentle, less of a demand and closer to a request instead. His hand was on the back of your head, fingers stroking through your hair. As you were starting to get entirely lost in the sensation, Lucifer pulled away, leaving you dazed and breathless. He removed his hands from your face and gave you a little bit of space while you tried to regain your composure.

There was a genuine, pleased smile on his face when he was looking at you and it only made you blush harder. Your heart was still beating way too fast, and the whirlwind of emotions inside of you wasn’t letting up either. All you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“Do you see my point now?” Lucifer asked with a soft chuckle, watching your baffled expression with a mix of amusement and affection. You nodded. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear there was the tiniest amount of pink tinting his cheeks.

“Good,” he said, his demeanor growing serious again, “then I believe it would be best if we talked about last night.”

“Ah… is that really necessary?” you muttered in disappointment.

“I understand that this might be uncomfortable for you, but in order for me to be able to help you, to be there for you, I need to know more.”

Sighing deeply you took a few measured breaths, trying to suppress the anxiety that was now taking hold of you once more. You leaned against the headboard, looking away and gathering yourself for a few moments.

“My grades have been falling short of my expectations and I’m having a hard time understanding the topics in class. I- the homework has gotten increasingly harder and I just- I understand less and less with each class I attend,” you explained, your voice quivering slightly, “I thought it would get easier with time, that I’d be able to comprehend everything, o-or at least more, but no. It’s only getting worse and I- I feel so frustrated and angry. And when I was doing homework last night, I guess I just- I just snapped. I’ve been struggling with other homework and assignments since I got here, but it hasn’t been this bad in- in a while.”

Closing your eyes you took more deliberate breaths to try and calm the emotions bubbling in your chest. You heard Lucifer move, his body settling next to you as he put a comforting hand over yours.

“I-it’s always been like that, I guess. I get overwhelmed with something and I-I freak out, I don’t even know why. It’s stupid and embarrassing,” you finished off your explanation quietly, trying to resist the urge to deprecate yourself further because you knew it would only make him upset again.

“How often does this happen?” he questioned, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand.

“Oh… uhm, not that often, I guess?” You gave back anxiously.

“How often?” he pressed again.

“Ever since I got here maybe… ten times?”

“So, twice a month?”

You opened your eyes and carefully looked at him, taking in his frown before shaking your head, causing him to narrow his eyes.

“No… in the first four months it only happened three times overall, but this month has been… difficult,” you explained with an uneasy laugh.

“Seven times? This month alone?” he concluded, clearly taken aback.

“Well… maybe? I don’t know for sure, I haven’t exactly kept count.”

“So you’re saying it could have been more than ten times?”

“It could have also been less!” you protested weakly, knowing very well that Lucifer was right in his assumption. One incredulous look from him was enough for you to deflate and sigh heavily.

“Did you have any intentions of ever telling anyone? Or would you have kept on suffering alone had I not found you by pure chance?” he finally asked after a while, his voice stern with a hint of concern.

The way you remained silent, avoiding his gaze, told him all he needed to know. He cursed under his breath, a hand ruffling through his hair. Just when you were about to apologize, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest and holding you in a firm embrace. You let your head rest against him and lazily draped your arm across his waist before you spoke again.

“Being a human here is… difficult, Lucifer. I already feel so vulnerable and the thought of telling this to someone, to a being that is so much more powerful, so much older than I am, is mortifying. I was- I still am scared that something like this will only make you see how weak I actually am.”

He raised a hand to your face, caressing your cheek in a soothing manner.

“I don't consider you weak - quite the opposite, in fact. Bearing the burden of being an exchange student in a foreign place, surrounded by demons, would be a difficult matter for any human. However, it is foolish to carry this weight alone, and if I have a say in it, you never will again,” he assured you, tightening his hold around you, “we can come together however often it is necessary and go over your assignments; I will make sure you understand everything. In turn, I expect you to come to me whenever there is something troubling you.”

“I will, I promise,” you said earnestly. Lucifer hummed appreciatively and you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until the alarm of your phone nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck, I have to get ready,” you mumbled as you untangled yourself from his hold and stood up.

“No need.”

“Huh?” You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at him in confusion.

“I will excuse you from today’s classes,” he explained casually while getting up himself, “and I will tell my brothers to leave you alone, so that you may focus on resting instead. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you for letting me skip RAD, but… I can’t just call you. I know how busy you are, and I don’t want to bother you when you have so little time already.”

“Don’t argue with me on this, I will make time for you. And now, rest. We will talk more in depth later.”

“Okay,” you conceded, watching him leave, “and Lucifer?” He stopped in front of the door and turned around, examining you expectantly.

“Thank you. Really.”

“You are welcome,” he gave you a soft smile and a nod, then he left.

With a content sigh you laid back down and closed your eyes, quickly falling asleep again.

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sachiko1309 · 5 months

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The Commanders T'hy'la

How I imagine Spock would look at you when he finds you reading filthy smut... I wonder if they teach those kind of things on Vulcan too... 😏😜

Summary: After an eventful evening, Spock made sure to bring home Lucy savely. But what happens next, wan't planned bei either of them.

Word count: 2953

Warnings: Smut, flashback to horrific backstory (kidnapping & rape), female orgasm, rough sex, Minors DNI !!! This contains adult content

He continued to accompany me in silence up to my small apartment. It only had a single bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen with an adjoining living room. It was maybe 50 square meters in total. When Spock went to leave me at the door, I stopped. "Please don't go. I don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course, you do. Just a moment." He typed something into his PADD, presumably letting the others know what was going on. Then he entered and looked at my little apartment. I flopped down on my sofa and kicked off my shoes. Spock sat down next to me. He obviously had no idea what to do now. So, I reached for his arm. Looking at me, almost startled, when I put his hand on my cheek, he tried to pull it back, but I held him tight. "Don't. I want you to know. Jim doesn't understand and I need someone who does."

Spock gritted his teeth and I closed my eyes as he merged both our consciousnesses together.

Pain shot through my cheek when he hit me. I fell to the ground and tried to crawl away, blood dripping from my nose and ran down my temple.

"Your captain must think very highly of you, trading you for a worthless relic like that," Hanesh's voice dripped with satisfaction. "You're nothing but a pawn to him, and now you're mine." He pulled me up by my hair, and I could hear my scalp tearing. I screamed out as he threw me across the room. Crashing into the steel wall with full force, I felt my arm break.

Hanesh slowly stalked towards me. "It's time you do your part of the bargain." He knelt in front of me and began to undress me. I was too foggy from the pain to react quickly enough, as he pulled a knife from his belt and carved something into my chest. I screamed and squirmed in his grip, but he was just too strong. "Now you're all mine," he said as he grabbed me by the neck and pushed me against the wall behind me. I struggled and kicked at him, but it hardly seemed to impress him.

"Fuck you, you bastard. Fuck you and your people. Jim will come for me and when he does, he'll kill you." I spat in his face taking another punch to my cheek. Dazed, I went down.

"He'll probably come. But until then, we'll have a lot of fun together," Hanesh hissed in my ear as he leaned over me and pulled my legs apart. I tried to resist with all my strength, but he grabbed my broken arm and pulled. My scream echoing off the smooth walls. Distantly, I heard Hanesh laughing as he forced himself into me.

It hurt. I was unprepared and totally tense, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. It might have even played into his sadistic need for pleasure. Ruthlessly, he took what he wanted. I knew that Vulcans had an animalistic and crude way of having sex, once they stopped controlling themselves, but this was even worse. Unlike Vulcans, Hanesh gave free rein to his needs. He fucked me ruthlessly and held me down by my neck. My whole body ached and I slipped further and further into unconsciousness. My field of vision went black and the pain became less and less.

But suddenly another feeling drilled itself into my head. Abysmal hatred and anger. Stronger than I had ever felt before. Startled, I opened my eyes and flinched. In an instant, the hatred and anger disappeared from my mind.

Spock.

They were his feelings.

When he opened his eyes and looked at me, I saw it in his eyes. His face still stoic and unchanged, but his eyes said everything I needed to know. "I now understand what Jim meant when he implied you hated my race." His voice was studiously calm as he stepped away from me.

"Don't." Instinctively, I reached for his hand. Again, his feelings overwhelmed me. But this time it was anger and hatred mixed with desire. He looked at me with dark eyes as he sensed my attraction to him.

I threw everything overboard and climbed into his lap. Hard, I pressed my lips to his, but he turned his head away. "That's not a good idea, Miss Lucy." Tensely, he held me down, so I couldn't assault him again. "Please." I put my hand on his chest. "Please, Spock. I want to forget him. I don't want to feel his touch anymore."

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "I don't think I'd be the right person for that."

I slid around on his lap, visibly affecting him. He growled deeply and his grip tightened. Sighing, he closed his eyes. "I don't know if I can be careful," his voice was harsh "I'm emotionally compromised."

"Then don't. I want to feel you. I want you to make me forget what he did," I said pleadingly, looking at him with hungry eyes. And that seemed to be enough.

Spock pressed his lips to my mouth and stood up. "Bedroom," he growled between kisses.

"Left door," I replied breathlessly. I felt him start to walk away. He kicked the door shut with his foot. Then suddenly I found myself under him, pressed into the soft mattress of my bed. I fiddled with his uniform with trembling fingers. Quickly, he gave in to my needs, taking off his jacket and shirt. His broad shoulders were a stark contrast to his otherwise slender, muscular upper body. Ears slightly turning green when he saw me looking at him. But the embarrassment was gone as soon as he took in my body.

I straightened up and undid the belt of my dress. Then I slipped it off and threw it into a corner. Spock impatiently pushed me back onto the bed. His lips now hard on mine again. When he started kissing my neck, a low moan escaped me and I curled into his arms. He grumbled against my neck and sucked the skin between his teeth. When he bit down, I cried out in surprise.

He immediately let go of me and braced himself on his hands. "I'm sorry. I let myself go." There was a brief flash of consternation in his eyes, but it passed as soon as I wrapped my legs around his waist. Looking at me with dark eyes he buried his face in my neck again. His long fingers moved to my back and I felt him effortlessly unclasp my bra and toss it aside.

Spock slowly kissed his way down to my breasts. Impatiently, I bent towards him. And when his mouth took my nipple in his mouth and gently slid his tongue over it, I moaned his name. My hands moved to his back and then into his hair. I tried not to grab too hard, but I failed as he tore my thong and his long fingers penetrated me.

"Spock..."

"Say that again."

"Spock..."

A low growl escaped his throat and vibrated against my neck.

"I didn't know Vulcans could growl," I whispered in his ear.

"You don't know a lot of things," was all he said, while looking at me. His eyes almost black, his jaw clenched tensely. At that moment, Spock's fingers hit my sweet spot. I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes. He continued to massage my insides and when he placed his thumb on my clitoris, I clawed at his back.

"Look at me!" His commanding tone elicited another moan from me. I forced myself to open my eyes. He took one of my hands from his back and intertwined his fingers with mine. As soon as the connection was made, I felt his desire next to mine. I couldn't help but stare into his eyes as his fingers continued to bring me to climax. And he knew that. He felt me twitching around his fingers, felt it through our connection, saw it in my eyes.

This moment was more intimate than anything I had ever experienced. I could feel how close I was to my orgasm. My legs trembling in anticipation. I was mesmerized by his eyes; my breathing heavy and irregular. A diabolical smile stole onto his lips and he leaned down and started kissing my neck. "Come for me," he whispered. And that was it. I slid over the precipice and fell. My orgasm came hard. "Oh God Spock." I screamed his name, clawing at him. But he didn't stop. Instead, he pulled the skin on my neck between his teeth and bit down again. I reared up as the pain mixed with my orgasm. And then the second wave hit me.

I was so focused on my feelings that I forgot he was holding my hand. His desire crashed into my head like a train and I could feel that it was taking all his strength not to take what he wanted here and now. As I slowly came back down from my high, I took his face in my hands. "Spock..." I said and looked at him. "It's okay. I want you. I want you to fuck me."

He smirked at my choice of words, but I continued to look at him urgently. "Take me. I want to feel you. All of you."

He didn't need to be told twice. Elegantly, he swung out of bed and took off his pants. I gulped when I saw his size. But I didn't have time to think about it, because what he did next threw me completely off course. He put his fingers in his mouth. His eyes were fixed on mine while his tongue removed the last remnants of me from his fingers, he moaned with pleasure. Without me being able to fully comprehend his speed, he was on top of me again, pausing for a moment.

"Contraception." he groaned.

"IUD." I breathed and he nodded with relief.

Then he was inside me. I sucked in a sharp breath as he filled me completely. It hurt, but it was an arousing pain. Slowly, he began to move inside me and I moaned. God damn did that feel good. The way he massaged me, the way his eyes scanned me... It was perfect.

"May I?" he asked, holding a hand next to my face. I knew it was one of the most intimate moments for Vulcans to share their thoughts during sex, and the fact that he wanted me to be a part of it excited me even more. I nodded and Spock merged our consciousness.

And what I felt overwhelmed me with all its power. I saw myself through his eyes. The first time he saw me in my office, how he didn't understand why I was so upset with Jim. I saw what he was thinking when I came into the living room of the youth center tonight in my dress, felt his body craving me when he saw me like that, felt how it irritated him. Then I saw myself lying under him while he took me. But I also felt him holding back, afraid of hurting me, of it being too much for me.

T'hy'la.

I looked at him, startled. The word was still echoing through my head. He immediately took his hand away from my face, but I put it back. "Don't," I said, "nemaiyo na'ish-veh gol'nev."

My Vulcan was rusty, but I could see that he understood me, that he knew I was thanking him. And there it was again, our mental bond. I sensed that he wanted more, that he wanted it the way his instincts told him to. He did his best to hide this thought from me, but I had picked up on it, letting him know through our bond that I wanted it too.

As soon as I had finished thinking, his behavior changed. It became more animalistic, wilder, harder. He took my thigh and put it over his shoulder. The angle he created, now enabling him to hit the spot exactly where his fingers had brought me to orgasm a few moments earlier.

"Spock... don't stop, please... I... fuuuuck." my voice echoed through my room as I came again. Spock's grip on my thigh tightened, his eyes scanning my body with desire. He broke our connection and began to caress my body with his hands. The harsh difference between that gesture and the way he took me was driving me crazy.

My thigh had slipped off his shoulder again by now, giving him all the freedom, he needed to kiss my upper body. I clawed at his back, hoping to get some stability, but it was hopeless.

I was an overstimulated wreck. The places where he kissed me, sucked on my skin and little bites burned like fire as soon as they touched the air and I was sure they would be visible for days to come. My muscles ached, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted everything he could give me. In a new surge of pleasure, I clawed so hard that Spock growled in protest. He skillfully removed my hands from his shoulders and fixated them above my head. This feeling of being completely at his mercy excited me even more, if that was even possible.

"T'hy'la..." Spock moaned in my ear. Only now did I realize how close he was to his own orgasm. His movements were more uncoordinated, his forehead sweaty, the tips of his ears glowing a vibrant grass green. "Nash-veh ashaya du, T'hy'la." his voice was so quiet I barely heard it. I could feel him twitching as he poured into me, but that was beside the point. Spock had just confessed that he loved me. It was the most beautiful and unsettling thing he could have said.

I knew that Vulcans were very open and direct about it once they had made that decision, but could he even know if he loved me after such a short time?

What if it was just a slip of the tongue in this situation?

For my part, I wasn't sure myself. I felt safe and protected with Spock, more so than in any other relationship I'd ever had, but I was human. My feelings came and went faster than his. It was more normal for humans to fall in love faster, or more accurately, to develop feelings.

It took Spock a few seconds to notice my uncertainty. He tried to find out what it was and when he understood, he sucked in a sharp breath and jerked away from me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel insecure or put you under pressure. Expressing my feelings so thoughtlessly was illogical." There he was again, the cool, calculating Spock. Albeit naked in my bedroom.

Quickly. he grabbed his things and left the room. I jumped up in panic and almost tripped. Running after him, I grabbed hold of him just before he had completely crossed the living room. He looked at me emotionlessly and I shrank under his gaze. I was still naked and, unlike him, I was now uncomfortably aware of it. I quickly took the blanket off the sofa and threw it over my shoulders to at least cover myself up a little.

Embarrassed, I looked down at the floor, hoping he would speak first, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't do anything except stare at me. I sighed and tried to express my thoughts reasonably logical: "Spock... I... it's not normal for us humans to say things like that so quickly. I need time to process it all, to process us."

"But of course, if you want distance, I'll stay away from you," Spock began to get dressed.

"No, you misunderstand me. I mean I want to take things slowly and see what develops. But that doesn't mean I don't want to see you anymore. I feel safe with you and... and... I like you," I stammered, staring at the floor.

"T'hy'la..." Spock, half-dressed, stepped towards me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I will give you as much time as you want. It's very logical to weigh all the facts first and then make your decision."

"A relationship is not a logical conclusion based on facts. You either love each other or you don't." I had to chuckle.

"But sometimes there are other advantages to maintaining a relationship. For example, it ensures the preservation of your own race. And if you consider this point, it would be important to choose a healthy, strong and young partner to make it easier to raise the offspring."

I looked at him speechlessly. "You can't be serious."

"But I know several Vulcans who maintain a relationship for reasons of logic."

"But I'm not a Vulcan, nor do I feel the need to have children. A relationship for me is based on love and trust." I was offended. Hearing something like that from Spock shortly after what had just happened hurt. He was quick to realize, that he had offended me and hugged me uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to present different points of view." Spock held me at arm's length and I could see a small smile on his stoic face. "But since I am only half Vulcan and half human, I feel the same desire as you to build our relationship on an emotional level."

"Thank you, Spock." Was all I could say, not entirely sure if it was only an answer to his words, or to the whole evening.

#spock #fem reader #smut #spock x reader #spock smut #star trek #commander spock

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

Bride and Groom

Pairing: Mob!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Nick lives in a dangerous world, but it won't stop him from marrying the love of his life. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, swearing, possessive behavior, slight fluff, mentions of violence, Nick Fowler (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: I began this in January and finally finished the start for this new AU. @11thstreetvigilante, @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @christywantspizza , thank you for letting me scream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank YOU as well!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly.

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications and please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Today marks the most important day of Nick Fowler’s life. It was also the happiest. He was marrying the woman he loved. He never thought the day would come because for a man like him, love is a liability. It also represented something pure in a world of power, blood, and death.

You were an unexpected equation in Nick's life. It was difficult for him to describe, but he never thought he'd find someone like you. He admitted he was somewhat jaded after serving time in the military, his outlook on life darker with some of the things he witnessed, some by his own hands. Finding his place in the mob didn't make his world any brighter.

Though it did give him structure and purpose, he felt something was missing. He didn't dare breathe it to his men that he didn't feel whole, not wanting to appear weak. He wasn't sure at the time why he felt that way. And on an ordinary day, he received his answer in the form of you.

Alone at the bar, a hole in the wall place he had grown fond of, you had the attention of every man there. Nick was always good with women. He could read them and know what they needed or wanted. But it felt like the other way around when you looked his way like you knew that he needed and wanted you. And he always got what he wanted.

"Let me buy you a drink."

You smiled and told him you were waiting for a friend. Had your friend been a man, he would’ve gotten rid of him easily. It took some convincing, which he enjoyed watching you smile as you tried to resist, but you took him up on his offer since your friend was running late. They ended up bailing and he couldn’t have been happier.

One drink turned into two. He was careful not to let either of you have more. He wanted a clear head so he could remember every detail about you. Your humor sucked him in because hardly anyone made him laugh. Your sincerity made him want to shield you from the other men around. And your beauty and what it did to him? He made his intentions very clear.

“You’re a dangerous man, Nick Fowler.”

“You have no idea, sweetheart.”

Your first kiss took his breath away. It anchored him to you. It angered him momentarily that you shifted his entire path in life from a single touch of your lips. No one had that kind of control over him. But he knew you weren’t the type to take advantage of him or his feelings for you. Not like others who ran in his circle.

His men looked into your background, of course. They informed him you didn't have any immediate family, as you lost your parents after you graduated from college. You didn't say much about them, though you had photos of them around your place. He knew you were lonely, even amongst your friends. He understood that feeling all too well.

"We can make a family together."

Nick hadn’t felt so possessive over anyone in his life before. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go. He wanted forever with you. Once he set his mind on something, it was nearly impossible to sway him.

Even when word spread that I had someone, I couldn’t let you go. Even after what I did, I had to hold you closer in my heart.

It was selfish of him in some ways to take a wife. You didn't belong in his world. There was so much good in you, yet you still trusted him when he told you what he did for a living. That he killed when it called for it and ruined others to set an example. He revealed ugly parts about himself while you brought out the best in him.

But you still didn’t know the worst of him, the thing he kept hidden from you.

You should have run away the moment we met, sweetheart, and never looked back. It’s too late now.

Looking in the mirror, Nick took a deep breath. Not a single hair was out of place, the short style accentuating his features. He debated shaving, but you loved the feel of his scruff against your skin. And his suit jacket was one of a kind and matched his cerulean blue eyes. He had to look perfect for you.

It killed him that he hadn’t seen you all morning. He didn’t like letting you out of his sight. Part of him feared that if he went too long without seeing you that someone would steal you away.

Someone like Steve.

He felt rage at the thought, slowly exhaling. No one would get to you and he wouldn't dwell on unpleasant thoughts. He had men on every corner and Jake Jensen updated him periodically, letting him know that you were okay. He was one of his most trusted men and he protected you like a brother. You were comfortable around him, which put him more at ease.

The small voice in the back of his mind began to fill him with doubt as he fixed his bowtie.

What if you change your mind at the last second? What if you decide this life isn’t worth it? Is love enough to endure the unknown of our future?

“Nick?” your voice rang out, surprising him as he looked toward the door. You knocked three times, followed by two slow knocks. It was a signal between the two of you, but why were you in the hall?

Where the fuck is Jensen?!

“Don’t open the door. Everything’s fine. Jake’s a few feet away,” you said as if you read his mind. “He hasn’t let me out of his sight.”

“Except when she changed, boss!” Jake promised.

Good because I’d hate to hurt one of my best men on my wedding day.

"Didn't you say it's bad luck to see you before the ceremony?" he reminded you. He was, personally, against that superstition. It probably had more to do with the fact that he wanted to ruin you before you went down the aisle and you were more than aware of his intentions. He hated hiding things from you, but his need for you was never something he had to mask.

Your soft laugh pulled him out of his thoughts, bringing a brief smile to his face. "Doesn't mean I can't talk to you. Just had this feeling you needed to hear my voice."

He didn't confirm or deny it as he adjusted his cuff. You knew he needed you. You always knew, like it was an instinct to go to him when his thoughts grew too heavy. "What did you want to talk about, lubi?"

"The things I love about you. If you want to hear them."

Nick took a step forward, wanting to be closer to the sound of your voice. Unlike a siren leading him to his doom, you were his salvation. "I'm listening."

"That's one of the things I love about you, Nick. You don't just hear my words. You listen to me," you said. He could see the smile on your face so clearly in his mind. Do you know how beautiful your smile is? "And we both know you don't listen to a lot of people."

He chuckled and nodded, even though you couldn't see him. "I'm stubborn like that.”

"Like how you stubbornly insist on giving me your sweater or jacket because I'm cold, but it's also because you like people to see that I'm yours."

I want everyone to see that you’re mine and only mine.

“It’s not my fault my clothes look so good on you. And I thought you liked the smell of my cologne on them.”

"I do. Makes it feel like you're there with me, even when you're not around."

"I don't like being apart from you," he admitted, finding himself at the door before he could stop himself. "Anything else you love?" he teased, not wanting to dwell on his admission.

"I don't like being apart from you either, Nick," you said. The statement wrapped around his heart and he understood to an extent why love made people do crazy things. He'd burn the world if you asked him to. "Anything else besides the little things? Like how considerate you are by making sure the pantry is always stocked with my favorite things or how you kiss my forehead before you leave for work?"

Nick's palm touched the doorframe. "Yes," he whispered.

"Besides how devilishly handsome you are with your tattoos and how great you are in bed?" you teased.

"Great? The best," he corrected you. He never wanted you to think about past lovers. If he could, he'd rip them apart for ever touching you.

You giggled, not rising to the bait. "I love you for who you are. The real you. I know telling me about what you really do wasn't easy. Trust isn't easy in your line of work, so thank you for having that faith in me."

Nick shut his eyes. He was thankful you couldn't see him through the door. He would've been torn between turning away from you, undeserving of your devotion, or pushing you again the door and fucking you within an inch of your life.

"I should be thanking you, lubi."

"I'll take a kiss as a thank you."

Nick chuckled and shook his head. "If I kiss you, I may not be able to stop."

"I think you can control yourself," you teased. "Keep your eyes closed and open the door, please."

Ex-military and a leader of one of the most powerful crime families, yet keeping his eyes shut as he turned the doorknob was one of the toughest things he had to endure. The moment the door swung open, the scent of you filled his nostrils. Sweet and addictive, distinctively you. A vision of you danced behind his eyelids as he stood still.

Your fingertips moved along his cheek, featherlight and delicate, before you pulled him close. The brush of your lips against his brought him back to your first kiss. Once again, you teetered him to you. Powerless and powerful all at once because of you.

"Thank you," you whispered as you pulled away.

Oh, no, you fucking don't.

He kept his promise and didn't open his eyes. It didn't stop him from pressing you against the doorframe and swallowing down the sound of your whimper. The lustful haze began to take over as he pressed his body closer. His trousers did nothing to hide how his cock was stirring.

True torture is being this close and not being inside you.

"You sure I can't fuck you now, sweetheart?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth before he left a searing trail down to your neck. "Have you dripping as you walk down the aisle, my cock still wet from being inside you?"

You shivered at the suggestion as his hands began to explore. He wished he could tear the offending fabric away and indulge. He warned you not to pack much for the honeymoon. No one would see you since he rented out all the surrounding villas in proximity to your new vacation home and he planned to take full advantage of the privacy.

"Nick, it's almost time," you moaned, but made no move to shove him away.

"I can be quick," he smiled, grazing his teeth over your racing pulse. "You telling me how much you love me got me worked up."

"Wait until you hear my vows. You might fuck me at the altar."

"Fuck, don't tease me," he warned. He'd fuck you in front of everyone if you let him. Just another reminder of who you belong to.

The sound of Jake clearing his throat snapped him out of his haze. "Boss, Andy is asking to speak with you after the ceremony."

Nick hated being interrupted, but you were right. It was almost time for the ceremony to begin. And he didn't need you questioning why Andy wanted to talk to him.

I can't lie today.

"Go before I change my mind," he whispered, giving your neck one more kiss. "I love you, lubi."

Thank you for putting me at ease.

"I love you, too," you whispered, slipping out of his grasp before he could open his eyes. "No work on our wedding day! I won't allow it!" you called back down the hall.

"See you in a few minutes," Jake said.

"Wait," Nick ordered before he could rush after you. "Did Barber say why he wants to see me?"

"No, boss," Jake said, swallowing as he checked his phone again and adjusted his glasses. "But he said you better keep your bride safe and that he'd hate to see anything happen to her."

Nick's eyes flashed as Jake took a nervous step back. It was no secret that Andy Barber didn't approve of this wedding. The former lawyer turned mobster still wasn't happy with him after what went down with Steve.

One of my only regrets.

"Tell him to worry about his own wife and I'll worry about mine," he said through his teeth, nodding for Jake to go after you. Careful not to slam the door once he was alone, he let out another deep breath. "Fuck."

He didn't want to worry about Steve on his wedding day. His enemy would never forgive him for what he did and he didn't deserve it. One day, he'd have to tell you what happened and deal with the fallout, whatever that would be.

Today wouldn't be that day.

Steve wouldn't take away his happiness.

I love you, lubi, and that's all that matters in this world.

Love will keep them together, right? Nothing bad could possibly happen. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #mob!nick fowler x reader #mob!nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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xappetites · 7 months

Text

one thing leads to another

Russell Adler x f!Reader (Bell) | Adler is half convinced Bell's using tenderness as a battering ram on purpose, he also needed someone to understand him more than he would ever admit, shit's fucked but that's par for the course, as always i sort of added a year between finding Bell and the rest of the game | word count: 1,672

London is a mess, but then again, all cities are. And this one has the benefit of both being friendly ground but not exactly home, in case the whole thing goes sideways.

Besides, it’s not like Adler’s an amateur. He wouldn’t have started this game without the certainty that he’d be able to handle it, roll with all of the possible outcomes.

No, this was calculated.

He purposely picked the side of town where metro police drag their feet, no matter how urgent the call. And he’s carrying a trusty sedative in a hypodermic needle retrofitted into a pen, so all he really needs to worry about is Bell.

Quite frankly, Bell’s all he’s been worrying about for the past eight months, though for the most part he can justify it as just another job hazard. The rest he blames on being a sexually active human with an average libido and moderately good circulation.

Sure, he’s seen her bleeding out, sweat drenched and bruised from several rounds of interrogation. Feverish, mumbling, staring into his soul like she could tear into him with her eyes alone. And she still slides silk soft over the ridges of his brain.

It was easy to ignore, all things considered; in that dark room with nothing but the microphone and the bell. To watch her, past whatever attraction he can’t shake, looking closely for results. But now she’s out in the world, fully convinced that she’s known him for decades; now she remembers a different Russell Adler. The one he was before the crooked line of his life proved to him that he wasn’t one for an easy ride; the man who would banter mid firefight, with the kind of gusto that makes him roll his eyes coming from Park and Lazar over comms.

And sure, that means she’s comfortable enough to follow his instructions without much back-talk and she's amenable enough that she’ll take initiative to do what’s best for the mission on her own. She’s efficient and useful; and she claws that old playfulness out of him kicking and screaming. Even if he tries to resist, to ignore her easy jabs, the gallows humor, it’s those damn eyes and the light of affection in them that forces him to respond just to focus on something else.

It’s so obvious that even Sims commented on it, how he hadn’t heard chatter like that from him in years. So maybe that’s why Adler wanted this meeting to be private; why he asked Bell to slip away from Park when he called. Selling it as an added challenge when he dared her to find him in London with nothing to go on but the arrival time of his flight. A test of skill and loyalty.

Just as Park’s had Bell here for a week. Officially, for a briefing of the few leads MI6 has in Berlin. Off the record, offering proof of concept to the powers that be: one shining, sweet success to prove what programming can do. Work. That’s what’s behind Adler standing alone in a no name club, not the impulse to hog Bell all to himself, or the unspeakable notion that he misses her.

He’s too professional to let it show, and he knows what needs to be done, but that’s the filthy truth of him, the way his hands itch for skin on skin contact. The manufactured familiarity that allows her to touch him all the time —hands solid on his shoulders or her thigh pressed against his in the back of a cab. All the more tempting for being forbidden. More nagging in the back of his mind because he’s stealing her from the man he’s hunted for so long.

The sensation makes Adler lay his palms flat on the bar top, check his watch. All he can do at the moment is wait.

Two more minutes to his midnight meeting with Bell. Two minutes that are nothing in the grand scheme of his standing stakeout record of several months. Minutes that he watches tick like molasses over his wrist. Anticipation settling horrible in the pit of his stomach with the possibility that, once out of Park’s watchful eye, Bell will abscond back to Perseus. And won’t that be a fun one to explain. A betrayal he can already taste, that hurts in a way that it shouldn’t. Burning as it goes down like the whiskey that’s suddenly shoved his way over the bar.

“I didn’t order this.”

“Your missus said you looked thirsty.”

The bartender tosses a wry smile his way too, nodding in the general direction of a very smug Bell. Who, at least, has the decency not to appear out of the smoke like this is a private eye movie, she just simply is there, close enough to touch, when she wasn’t the second before.

“You made it,” he greets her, watches her grin grow slow and tilted over her mouth. Her hips angled to squeeze in next to him, lean her weight on the bar and steal a sip off his drink. And Adler hates how proud he sounds, how his shoulders lose tension when she takes the first, poison-taster gulp of liquor like a half apology for ambushing him.

“You doubted it?”

“Park can be hard to sidestep.”

Bell outright giggles then, smile blinding in her satisfaction, but she doesn’t offer anything else. She won’t spoil the magician’s trick.

“So what’s your story?” She asks instead, dipping closer still, until Adler can feel the ghostly touch of her hair against his cheek. “If this were to go tits up. Who are you tonight?”

“Well, you already told the bartender, I’m your husband.”

“Got you sore about that?”

There’s laughter in Bell’s voice, a tease of her fingertips straightening the collar of his jacket. Of course he’s fucking sore, with the way the thought goes right between his legs, aches in the pit of his stomach. Here with her lips on the rim of his glass, her body nudging insistently into his personal space like picking at a wound.

“Just wondering how believable it’d be for me to have a wife so beautiful.”

“Please, Russ, you’re the most attractive man I know.”

She moves, digging out a cigarette and flagging the bartender for an ashtray, and the extra inch of distance is such a deep relief that it takes Adler half a second to realize she’s smoking when they were supposed to have culled that out of her.

“I thought you’d quit,” he tries, as a thin, icy stream of uncertainty slides down his spine. He tries to be rational, smoking is the least dangerous of Bell’s old habits; complicated by the physiological dependence on nicotine to boot. This doesn’t have to be a sign of impending doom, he just has to keep an eye on it.

“In this line of work? It wasn’t meant to last,” she pauses, takes a drag and holds the smoke for long enough to notice she’s having his exact brand, familiar and comforting. “Besides, you give me cravings.”

The eyes, it’s always the fucking eyes. The way they catch on his scar, climbing along until she’s staring him down with nothing but open, honest desire, and a sort of sadness underneath. Like she’s given up on the magnetic pull she feels for him as soon as she admits to it.

Bell knows he’d put the job above anything, knows that’s what nuked his marriage. She knows because he told her, made her privy to things the likes of Sims only suspect. It was easy too, once he got started, to let the words get away from him; maybe not during the first session, but by the twentieth? The fiftieth? He’d find himself in the jungle of Vietnam and in the weeds of his personal hang ups all the same.

We fought together, bled together.

A mantra that to a degree poisoned him too. Enough to make him need this, once at the very least, to hold Bell steady by the back of the neck, tasting the smoke and the surprise on her lips. Then he has to do it again, since Bell’s crushing the cigarette out so she can pull herself closer by his lapels, run her fingers through his hair with a whisper of ‘fuck Russ’. And he is absolutely fucked in so many ways.

Fucked in the ease of walking beside her back to his hotel. And in how she sighs against his mouth when her cold hands sneak under clothes in the elevator. Adler feels his heart beating in double time as he finally works himself inside her, inch by inch so he can’t hide from this. He could regret it, he already does, as he struggles to make this last as long as he can, but he can never pretend it didn’t happen.

He’ll always have the way she clings to him, his name stumbling out of her when he hits the angle that makes her melt, to weigh on his conscience. He’ll keep coming back to her shoulder, still slick from the shower as he rested his forehead on it, because that was the third time he’d come that night and it never lost its edge to feel her around him.

These are the things Adler knows will haunt him. Keep him up at night until he finds the next excuse to have her, in a different hotel and a different city, with the same burning desperation.

And it’s what he sees, clear as day, playing in her mind that night as he tries to drag Perseus’ location out of her. Every kiss and every single time he drew meaningless shapes over her skin while she was curled up against his side.

The way he demands the information but has not let go of her hand, the fact that they both know how this ends. And he can only fucking hope, with her brilliant eyes burning through him again, that she can forgive him for falling for her.

#m: cod #r: smut #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #personal #i want this man to be so down fucking bad he can't even live with himself #'it was never personal' my ass

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hellotherekenobi · 1 year

Text

His Secret Infatuation.

Summary: you’ve known Loki since you were children, growing up in love with him. But his reputation as the prince of Asgard gets in the way, and feelings are left burning.

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: I couldn’t help myself. Inspired by this TikTok. Have I seen a lick of Bridgeton? Absolutely not. So, I made this up as I went.

CW/TW: set in a somewhat AU; one (1) nonconsensual kiss.

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Loki isn’t a nice man. Or, more appropriately phrased, much of a gentleman.

He’s acted mischievously ever since he was a child and you would think that as a prince he would be more refined, or at least, with higher standards, more mature. Yet, that’s the way he’s always been and you fear it’s the way he will always be.

Knowing him as a young boy only gives you a higher expectation of him, which he’s never much appreciated.

What can he expect, though, from someone who’s grown up beside him throughout all his years? After all, if there is anyone who knows Loki better than himself, it’s you.

He also makes it clear how much he despises that very fact. Whether it’s because of your status or simply his instinctual resistance, you’re not sure. Though, he has a nasty habit of getting on your nerves as well.

The time he had put frogs in your bed comes to mind. He was only eleven, the little stinker, and found delight in how high-pitched your scream was when you had pulled back the cover to find three slimy river frogs sullying your bedsheets. The teasing went on for weeks after that, where he’d tell anyone he spoke to about the prank he had pulled and how horrified you were of it.

Then, at fifteen years of age, he teased you about having not yet kissed someone, making you believe he’d help end your misery but instead pressed a frog to your lips when he had broken his promise. You swore to hate him from that day forward, but as much as you deny it, and he too, there is no one closer than you both.

“We’re not friends!” He’d cry to anyone who would suggest it, then be slipping through your bedroom window the same afternoon to play hide and seek in the forest until it got dark.

As much as he was cruel, he was also kind.

There had been one evening where he had hidden expertly well—which later you found to be a trick of his magic—and it was too dark to find him or your way back home. The sounds of the forest scared you and you had huddled yourself inside the curve of a tree trunk. Through your tearful whimpers, you had heard him call your name, and then his hand was offered to you, like a white knight in the face of danger. Loki had wrapped his arms around you the entire way back to your house, intent on staying with you until the tears stopped streaming down your cheeks.

It’s in those moments, when his shield is down, that you see him better than anyone else, even his brother, Thor. Loki lets you see him be kind, but not just that, he lets you see him care. And to get back at him for all the horrible pranks he pulled on you as children, you never let it go that the God of Mischief has a heart.

Of course, as all children must do, you and Loki grew up. He as a grandeur prince and you as a dweller of the city. Not nearly high enough in status to even be talking to the prince, yet that doesn’t stop either of you.

Sometimes, Loki still slips through your window, asking you to go to the forest with him. The first few times were sweet, romantic even, but all too soon they became impossible to accept with the weight of your own separate lives. The offers became stagnant and seldom until they stopped altogether.

Yet, you still wait for him, hoping that you’ll hear him tap against the glass and ask for you to run away to the forest with him. Even if you are to tell him no, you still wait for him.

The times you spend with each other are in between already scheduled moments throughout your days. When he had a minute to spare away from the castle, he would seek you out and walk with you through the markets, nudging your shoulder every now and then. He always had something to talk about and you, in turn, always had something to counter with.

There were playful moments of throwing sunflower seeds at each other, which were recently purchased by him, or of your own variation of hide and seek where you had to find where the other person was trying to blend into the scenery.

There were moments of sincerity, too. Times where walking side by side became closer, closing the gap and pressing against each other’s arms. Times where his hand would brush yours, never daring to hold it but simply touching, since that was more than enough for the two of you.

Interactions like these aren’t foreign, seeing how close you’ve been since kids, but they feel taboo—a prince and a commoner holding hands will surely arise many whispered discussions, which would find their way to Odin in less than a day. It was never spoken, as you dared not accept let alone consider your feelings for him, but Loki’s choice of romantic interest is hardly his own personal decision on his step of the royal ladder.

It is why there are so many banquets and gatherings held at the castle, especially inviting those from faraway lands or dominions. The festivity is as much for Thor as it is for Loki. Granted, there are no rules against mingling in the lower provinces of Asgard’s territory, but there isn’t a blessed welcome to the idea either.

It also isn’t as if you aren’t invited to the gatherings. In fact, you attend every one. At first, it was to be moral support for Loki in awkward social situations, especially with handsome strangers (he’s a hopeless flirt, you swear off it.) Later, though, when he and his brother were instructed to fraternize and entertain the guests, your appearance was more so for your support.

Don’t let him forget me, you would say in your head, more so when he would be dancing with some gorgeous royalty.

He never left you alone, though. Loki would always seek you out in the crowd or find a place to talk to you away from prying eyes. Eventually, those moments were rare to find after Odin caught on to where the two of you would go. If Loki wasn’t present in the room, Odin knew immediately that he was with you. So, the two of you have become accustomed to hiding from guards or getting caught by them.

The interference doesn’t stop inside ballrooms, however. Soon Odin had guards posted all around the city, mostly in the places he knew you and Loki walked so that they could keep an eye on you or find some excuse to tear Loki away.

One day, too soon for your liking, your rendezvous with Loki stopped. There were far too many interruptions to have even a minute to talk, and Odin gave so many responsibilities to Loki that he hadn’t any time to see you at your house. Even meeting in the forest was impossible. Odin’s guards would be there too.

Now you see Loki from afar.

Sometimes, if you both are lucky, you will find time to talk to each other, but it never lasts for very long. The effort is always appreciated, even if all that you get is a look from him from across the crowd.

It only dawns on you now, as you lay awake in your bed, that Loki has always searched for you; as a child and even now, you are his focus. The more the years span out, the more you notice how busy he is, and you hate to think that because of some sentimental attachment he could be completely throwing away what privileges he has, especially for his future.

So, you decide quickly that you’ll stay away from Loki. The real concern is, however, if he can stay away from you.

You plan to simply stop associating with him. If you see him in the distance, you walk the other way. If he manages to catch your arm, you make an excuse to leave.

“Why do you run from me?” he asked you once in the markets, where you had busied yourself with the fabric on the stall in front of you when he met your gaze.

“You exhaust me, Loki.”

Regretfully, that’s what you told him once the guards surrounding you dared to move in closer, to pull you both apart, and you had hurried to get him away before they got there. The impact of your words was evident on his face; furrowed brows and glossy eyes. He disappeared into the crowd without a word, and the most you saw of him from then on was from behind the royal court.

There are still invitations to gatherings, of course. All are welcome to join, but you sometimes turn down the offer, especially if it’s more finely dined rather than a ball. The last thing you need is to sit across from Loki where you can’t avoid his gaze even if you try.

The difficulty of trying to stay away is that no matter what, no matter the distance or time or warning, your heart still yearns to be with him. Goodness, you’d even suffer through another practical joke involving frogs if it means that you can hear him laugh again. In recent years, he’s become so serious.

Eventually, your excuses ran dry, as you knew they would, the very day you receive an invitation to a royal ceremony the princes of Asgard warmly encourage all to attend.

“Clear your schedules!” Thor would shout throughout the streets.

It made everyone excited, and of course, you were roped into that, so turning down this offer was something you could not do.

Worrying just makes the days go by faster, and so before you know it the night of the ceremony arrives and you’re walking among the crowd of people through the entrance of the large golden doors of the palace.

Some things have changed, you notice when you look around to see tapestries moved from one spot to another from what you remember when you would come here so often. Surfaces are much shinier and more glistening than you’ve ever seen them. It almost feels like stepping into a foreign place, and you find yourself so caught up in taking in the surroundings that when you hear Loki’s voice it about startles you so much that you jump in place.

He’s standing at the top of the staircase, golden chalice in hand, right next to his brother who takes over the conversation after Loki had spoken a simple “welcome”, smiling through a greeting and thanking everyone for coming.

It’s rather embarrassing, you think to yourself, at the way you stare at Loki as if you haven’t seen him in years, but you allow yourself to indulge in this, seeing as you’ve hardly interacted with each other.

Yes, you keep your gaze fixed and take him in; the way his hair is styled, neatly pushed back, the shimmer of the green fabric he wears, the poise of how he stands so straight, and the curve of his slim fingers around the chalice. His eyes, even from this distance, are still so captivating, and you about jump out of your skin a second time tonight when they suddenly look at you.

Quickly, you turn your head and hope he doesn’t notice how you had been staring, but when looking at the adjacent wall becomes insufferable, you turn your head back and catch how he still looks at you.

It’s only Thor raising his chalice and announcing for everyone to have fun that draws Loki’s attention away from you, where he mimics his brother by raising his own cup and giving a polite smile to all of the guests.

That’s when the crowd starts moving and you’re practically swept away by all the people, moving further into the palace that you’re in the main ballroom where couples are already dancing and others are already searching for their own cup of wine.

You immediately make your way over to the food table, glancing over the selection but not really having any intention of taking anything. Really, you want to say hello to a few people so that you have the word of others that you did actually attend tonight, and then slip out before anyone can notice you’re missing and simply snuggle into your bed that’s calling for your name at home.

This tactic of yours has worked rather well in previous instances, however, you don’t expect someone to approach you, nor do you expect to feel their hand gently rest on the small of your back and the way they almost press onto your side. Your hand would immediately shove this person off of you in any other scenario, but you know that touch from anywhere, even after all this time.

“I didn’t think you’d show up tonight,” Loki says beside you, quiet and gentlemanly enough that it doesn’t draw any outward attention, “but you seem to have caught my eye.”

His head turns a fraction in your direction, ghosting close enough that you’re almost slipping into the cloud his presence kicks up, but manage to get a hold of yourself and step back a fraction, though his hand still stays on you.

“I hadn’t much of a choice,” you tell him, and you know he understands what you mean about the enthusiasm of his brother. “I don’t plan on staying for very long. I have things to do in the morning.”

“Then I count myself a lucky man that I have this privilege,” he smiles softly, but you know it’s far from sweet and more so mischievous. “Would you honor me with a dance before you go?”

“Would that be very wise?” You ask him genuinely, quickly checking to see if this interaction alone has already caught the attention of the palace guards.

“My sweet, I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

He offers his free hand to you before you can blink at his reply, already feeling yourself heat up from his charming speech. You’re not quite sure what compels you to take his hand, throwing all sense out the window with even that one small gesture, but after all the distance you’ve built up between the two of you, it’s evident just how much you’ve missed him, letting caution take chase of the wind.

Loki leads you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him in his arms with those radiant eyes only on you, entrapping you into his aura. The music starts gently and the two of you sway, following the pattern of this style of song.

The worry of being caught, or pulled apart, is far back in your mind as you dance with Loki like you’ve always been side by side since you were children. The kindness you always saw in him only shines more brightly now, in which you’re the centre of his attention and, if you convince yourself of it fully, take glee in the belief that he acts this way only around you.

All of the time and distance between you two vanish with each step you take in the dance. It wipes the slate clean whenever Loki leads you in a spin, and then grounds you with the same firmness of his hand on your back.

You can get lost in this moment, in his arms, and in his eyes. It’s easy and almost second nature to want to fall into it, but then something catches the corner of your eye and turns that feather-light cloud into something dark and grey.

The palace guards have come to stand at the edge of the crowd, watching in at everyone dancing, but it’s clear as day that they’re here to watch Loki and you; to keep an eye on you both.

You think that maybe Loki has seen them as well, but his gaze is fixed on you, almost so deep in his thoughts or, dare you even think it, his heart, that you wonder if he even noticed you look away.

“Loki,” you whisper, placing a hand on his chest. “Maybe we should stop.”

“Stop, why?” He asks, a tinge of boyish concern on the tip of those words.

You don’t want to worry him, and you definitely don’t want him to understand that the reason why you’ve been avoiding him for so long is because of his father, but you’re too scared of possibilities to think to put it lightly.

“I’m getting dizzy,”

He’s hesitant on stopping, you can feel it, but he slows his steps until he waits on the marble and you slip yourself out of his hold. Something stops whatever words are travelling up your throat, and instead, you simply bow your head and then quickly make your way into a different section of the palace, as far away from that dance floor and from Loki as possible.

With your hurry, however, you don’t exactly pay attention to the people around you and suddenly collide with someone with a drink that spills from their hand and onto the side of your clothes.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going—” and a breathless exclaim of your name cuts you off, meeting the blue eyes of a certain blonde-haired prince. “Thor, I’m so sorry about your drink.”

He waves an over-exaggerated hand at you that if there were any drink left remaining in his glass, it would have been spilt by him instead.

“There’s more to have. Besides, I could say I walked into a ghost. I haven’t seen you since we were children.”

You show him a small smile, but goodness knows how awkward he’s just made this situation. “Yes, it’s been a while,”

“Have you gone to see Loki? He’ll be so happy to see you,” he begins searching out his brother in the groups of people behind you, looking over your head as if he is shorter than you.

“No, that’s okay,”

“He will be delighted, trust me. He never stops talking about you,”

“But, Thor—”

“Look,” he grabs a hold of your hand firmly, squeezing it in excitement or anticipation, you’re not entirely sure which. “I dare say this party is for you, so you have to go see him.”

He starts to walk ahead of you, but his sentence gives you the sturdiness that you need and you plant your feet on the floor, tugging his hand back so that he turns to look at you.

“What do you mean by that?”

Almost like a child caught breaking their mother’s prized vase, he turns a dusting shade of pink.

“Well, it’s only that we hardly see you at the palace anymore and... you haven’t exactly responded to many invitations as of late,”

“Thor,” it’s as much of a plea as it is a stern tone. “Did Loki really plan this party for me?”

He swallows thickly, looking around the room as if someone will appear suddenly and drag him away for telling a secret.

“I shouldn’t say, but he’s missed you,”

Those words make you feel guilty, right down to your bones. Yet, it seems so clear now; why the invitation was so strongly encouraged, why Loki saw you in the crowd, and why he found you so quickly. It’s a façade for Odin but an incentive for you.

It would be pointless to say you haven’t missed him, too. You’re already walking on stardust since the two of you danced. But you feel as if you need to come down from that cloud, though you desperately want to remain perched there.

There are two sides fighting inside you right now; one which wants to seek Loki out and hear from himself if Thor’s words are true, and one which wants to escape the confrontation entirely and leave before anyone can see that you’re missing.

With two sides, one is always stronger. And, to your dismay, the one led by emotions is the prevalent, rather than the intuition.

“Do you know where he is?” You ask, too far gone from holding yourself back.

Thor nods. “Yes, he should be in the main hall.”

With your hand still in his hold, he turns around and walks in the direction he was originally leading you, past people and servers and pillars, until you’re right in the centre of the palace.

The room is completely filled and you wonder how you’re going to navigate yourself through them, though you have no doubt that Thor will push his way through and everyone, seeing him as the prince, will let him.

“He’s with the Warriors Three,” Thor says, pointing across the room.

Sure enough, the people in question are talking to Loki on the other side of the room and he looks completely indulged in the conversation.

“Come on,” Thor tugs your hand.

But you stop him yet again. “I don’t want to interrupt,”

He looks at you like you’re being foolish, shaking his head.

“He can talk to them at any time,”

“But I really shouldn’t,”

“Why not?”

You can’t exactly say it plainly—your father won’t allow it—so you figure up an excuse.

“I don’t look my best.”

“Please,” he chuckles. “You look beautiful. It’s a wonder you haven’t caught my brother’s eye already.”

Well, you could tell him that you have already spoken to him, but that won’t help your situation.

“Just give me a moment,” you say. “I promise.”

Thor lets out a deep sigh and then lets go of your hand.

“All right, but come quickly.”

You nod at him and Thor walks through the sea of people, making his way to the other side.

There really is nothing in the world you want more than an opportunity to talk to Loki and get some answers, and give some answers, too, you’re sure of it.

But there isn’t time, you think. With so many people at the palace and so many guards posted around, anyone can be a witness to your interactions with Loki. The Warriors Three, certainly, and everyone knows how loudly they chatter.

No, this is too risky.

Unless...

The gardens outside are completely unoccupied. Not a single candle is lit, showing that the guests are supposed to stay indoors, but if it’s the only way you can get Loki alone, then you’ll take it.

Stepping over to the large glass door which is slightly ajar, most likely to circulate the air, you wait a moment until Loki happens to see where you stand, and you pretend to quickly look away as if you hadn’t been watching him and slip through the gap outside.

It’s dark but you keep walking, further and further away from the palace, deeper into the gardens until you’re behind various large hedges which successfully block the view from either end.

In the middle of the space is a fountain pumping water rhythmically and, thankfully, there are some lights attached to the ornament at the base so that you’re not completely standing in the dark.

So, you wait. You watch the water stream in the fountain and you think of what you want to say, wondering if the truth is a good idea or if that will make the situation worse.

As time stretches on, you begin to fiddle with your hands, growing nervous. There’s a high possibility that Loki won’t follow you out here, especially after you had ended the dance before, and if anyone is to come looking for you, it might be a guard.

When you worry yourself senseless, you turn on your heel to leave, thinking it a ridiculous idea in the first place, but are stopped by the figure standing by the opening of the hedges, looking at you.

Just as you had thought, he came.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, slowly stepping closer, but not breaking the respectable distance. “The party is inside.”

“Yes,” you speak, fiddling with your hands some more. “I just needed some air. There are so many people.”

Loki nods his head, walking instead around you so that he can peer into the fountain as if there are coins for him to steal.

“There’s a breeze out here,” he says. “Are you not cold?”

“No, I don’t feel the cold.”

“Then why are you trembling?”

He reaches out to touch your hands, simply pressing into them gently to stop you from fiddling. You can’t help yourself, you seem to get so nervous around him, especially after all these years.

The confidence you had in your original plan is slowly dissipating. Even more so, really, because it’s been so long since you’ve felt his touch, though you danced with him before. It’s different this time; you’re alone with him now.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head. “I’m fine.”

Yet, you’re far from fine when he steps closer to you, now invading your space, and looks at you intently.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he whispers.

If only he knew you’ve been lying to him for years, making him believe that you want nothing to do with him when really all you want is to be with him. What you would give to turn back the clocks and stay.

“Loki,” you say carelessly, trying to sound bothered, “I’m telling the truth.”

“I know you better than you think. You’ve never liked the cold.”

“That was when we were children,”

“And you’ve hated it since we were teenagers.”

“People change,”

“Hearts don’t,” he says with a squeeze of your hand. “I haven’t.”

Truly, he really hasn’t changed, not one bit, from the little boy who used to put frogs in your bed and climb through your bedroom window. It was all so simple back then. The world felt small. Now, it feels too big to stand in.

You arch an eyebrow, trying to appear indifferent. “That’s obvious, isn’t it? You still can’t take no for an answer.”

“I wish you had stayed,”

His words are so featherlight, the meaning of them almost billows past you. He speaks without prompt, causing you to hold your breath and watch him with softened eyes, feeling caged in around the hedges and with his hands still holding yours.

“I keep wondering why you did it,” he murmurs. “I can’t sleep. All I think about is you. All I want is you.”

“Loki,” you begin, not wanting this to go any further.

What a stupid idea to come out here, knowing that he’d follow you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s still the prince. And shouldn’t you trust Thor’s word enough to not hear it from Loki? You knew it the second Thor said that this party was planned for you that he meant it, yet you still wanted more. Now, look where it’s gotten you.

“You wanted me too at one time, didn’t you?” He asks. “What did I do to lose your favor?”

Taking a deep breath, you feel like you might topple over at any minute. He’s been living his life feeling like the reason why you pushed him away, even though it was the only thing you could think to use against him to stop what was clearly flowering between you two.

You hate that you did it, but you hate to think that you can ruin things worse for him if you let him back in.

“I told you once,” you say, pulling your hands out of his hold.

He immediately looks pained by the action, your hands feeling empty. Your heart feels empty, too. But you have to do this.

“You’re exhausting.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You’re lying.”

“It’s the truth, Loki.”

“Please,” his lips are trembling. “Don’t leave me again.”

If he says it one more time, you might do as he says. Tears are pricking your eyes but you dare them not to fall. You can’t let him see you sad, otherwise he’ll never give up.

“It was a mistake for me to come here,” you say, referring to the party but also meaning the gardens. “I’m sorry.”

You turn away from him, walking past the hedges. With your back facing him, you let yourself silently cry, knowing that you’ve done more damage now then when you ripped his heart apart in the marketplace.

He’ll never give up unless you’re brash with him. You thought it was enough to simply say the words, but it turns out he needs more to deter himself from you. If walking away from him now doesn’t work, then you have no hope at all.

And then his hand finds your shoulder and he spins you around, and in the split second of facing him, you see that he’s crying as well and he’s surely noticed the tears on your cheeks, but it’s only a moment before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

The gasp is stuck in your throat, your hand against his chest, pushing. He holds you to him with a hand at the back of your head, keeping you where you are so that his lips can explore you.

You’re dizzy, fingers tightly wrapped in his shirt, somewhere between pulling away and pulling him closer. His lips, salty from his tears, are intoxicating but bold.

Only when someone calls his name do you register that you’re not behind the hedges anymore. Anyone who looks through the windows will be able to see you two, and when you realize that the voice is Thor’s, you gain all sense of control and shove Loki away from you, hearing the thump when you press your palms to his chest.

“That wasn’t very nice,” you breathe out, watching his dejected expression.

His arms are somewhat hovering in the position they were in before, where there’s now empty space where you had once been. Though you lips are tingling, you’re on fire.

Thor approaches you both, stepping beside you.

“Brother?” He asks. “What are you both doing out here?”

It has to be pure luck that he didn’t see what happened. In any case, it’s more than what should have taken place.

“I’m going home,” you say, keeping your eyes on Loki for a moment before turning toward Thor. “I think I ate something bad.”

“Oh, please let me accompany you home?”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll walk.”

Loki does nothing to stop you, or make any intention of speaking, so you give a short, courteous bow and walk away. This time with the intention of never stepping back into his life again.

When the weeks pass and there is not a single gathering at the palace after that night, you believe that Loki has finally given up on you. Perhaps he’s feigning sickness to prevent any association at all, but you get the quiet you always wanted.

Though, you hate it, the quiet is something you have to live with, especially as there were additional guards around your homeland after the party. They didn’t stay for long, probably understanding that you’re staying away from Loki as much as he’s now staying away from you, and life goes back to normal.

Or, the only normal you’ve known outside of Loki Laufeyson.

He’s really been a part of your life since the start and even when he’s not around you, you can’t help but think about him and think back on all the memories. You wish you had more of them.

Instead, you fill your time with work, starting from the early morning until the evening, so that there is no opportunity at all to somehow bump into the prince.

It’s exhausting work but you find it guarantees a restful sleep, so, when you return home in the night, you’re ready to fall directly onto your bed, but that doesn’t happen. What you’re not ready for is for there to be someone inside your house when you arrive, and you would be screaming if this person isn’t standing right by the fireplace for you to see their face.

No matter what you do, you can’t seem to get rid of him.

“Loki,” you gasp, a hand on your chest. “You scared me.”

“I apologize,” he says, taking one step toward you. “That was not my intention.”

With a sigh, you close the door behind you and let yourself take in the situation. He’s wearing a cloak, completely black, and there was no horse outside, so he’s come here in secret.

“What do you want?” You ask, feeling tense.

Loki looks down at the floor, picking at his palm which he always does when he’s nervous. It’s something you remember him doing so much when he was young, and it appears that it’s a habit he still has.

“I want to be free of you,” he says, eyes now on you. “The way you are clearly free of me.”

If he thinks you go a day without thinking about him, then you have really done some damage.

“I just want a few answers,” he says.

This could be risky, but you’ve taken a chance on far worse.

“Okay,” you nod, stepping further into the room. “Ask me.”

He waits a moment, and in the firelight you can see him swallow.

“Why do you not like me?”

Sighing, you tilt your head. “I thought we finished our conversation at the party.”

“I don’t think you told me the truth,”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” you say. “You want answers and then you don’t accept them.”

“There has to be more,” he says, stepping in front of you when you make a move to walk away. “We were so close.”

“And we grew up. Loki, don’t you see? We’re living different lives.”

“My life means nothing without you.”

The exhaustion is now sweltering, nipping at your ribcage from where it ignites. You’re so tired of acting in front of him. All you’ve been is distant. It confuses you with annoyance that he can still appreciate you after all you’ve done.

“Why do you care so much?” You ask with heavy breath.

His eyebrows furrow, creasing lines at his forehead.

“You really need to ask that?”

“Yes.”

He’s like a rock wedged into the sand, refusing to be pushed under when a wave splashes onto it. You’re the wave, crashing over and over again, and he doesn’t move.

“Everyone knows it,” he speaks, the look on his face mixed with irritation and lucidity. “My brother knows it, the Warriors Three, they know it. The All-Father—”

“Your father would rather keep you hidden in the palace than associate with someone like me.”

“This isn’t about what Odin thinks. It’s not about any of them.”

“So, it’s about you?”

Maybe he’s not budging by the weight of the waves, but what you say sinks him into the sand. He shifts, not looking as boyish as before. The whole of him tenses, starting from his jaw and working its way down to his fingers. His brows are creased now in impatience.

“I do not know how to be any more clear,” he says, growing restless.

“Well, do not get angry,” you defend, watching his shoulders stiffen.

“I’m not angry.”

“You look angry,”

He’s frowning at you, all hawkish and tempered. Half solemn, half furious. A crimson tinge at his cheeks grows to the tips of his ears.

“And bothered,” you examine, watching his chest rise and fall at an agile pace. “Look at you, you’re downright flushed.”

Loki groans, closing his eyes briefly. “Yes, that is what happens—”

“When one is angry?”

“When one burns for someone who does not feel the same!”

The words fly on flames, almost scorching you to hear them. They can swallow you whole with how they overwhelm you. If he’s the rock and you’re the wave, he’s guarded the shoreline.

Infatuation, that’s what you’ve always thought it was. Some silly childhood crush that never faded over time, and he’s been so twisted in his youthful thoughts that he keeps a hold of it. Not this. Not something so mature.

“You... burn for me?”

His anger dissipates now, fading away like a ghost in the room. The fury of it is replaced by desperation which leaks from his lips.

“Why do you think I followed you into that garden?” He asks quietly as if the words might break you both.

But you are broken. You’ve been broken since the day you walked out of his life, leaving pieces of you scattered with no hope of reassembly. The only one who can build you up again is the same man who stands across from you now, crumbling in his own fashion.

Mournfully, you whisper, “Why do you think I went into that garden?”

His eyes broaden, catching the light in a way which shows you the tears forming there, on the precipice of falling. He looks so young like this, so delicate.

To think that you’ve broken his heart and now you’re holding it, and his doleful gaze speaking to you silently, telling you not to drop it this time.

“Then why?” He asks, almost begging.

“You know why,”

Shaking his head with a look that says he can hardly listen to reasoning, he whines. His voice is so heavy-hearted that you almost shatter.

“So, all these years you’ve pushed away from me, all the reason why is because... my father disapproves?”

“It’s more than that,”

“How?”

“There cannot be someone like me with the prince of Asgard,”

“Someone like you?”

“Yes. Common, lowly,”

“You are no such thing.”

“I’m inferior,”

“You’re lovely,”

“Loki,” you want to smile but it hurts. “This cannot work.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I don’t care about Odin’s opinion, or your belief, or Asgard’s principle. All I care about is what my heart feels and it yearns for you.”

Whispering, you feel the tear rolling down your cheek. “After I’ve treated you so horribly?”

“Even then.”

It’s because he knows, you realize now. Somehow, Loki’s always known that pushing him away was never truly you. His persistence in seeing you was as much of his own interests as it was his intention to figure out the truth.

Loki has never given up on you and, with that understanding, you give way to tears.

“My sweet,” he whispers, fingers gently finding a place at your jaw. “I love you fiercely.”

A sob breaks apart your lips, feeling so vulnerable with his confession. This is his secret and you have it, too. And it’s time you stop running from that and tell him the truth.

“I’ve loved you since we were children,” you weep. “Even when you put frogs in my bed.”

He chuckles, a smile creasing into rosy cheeks. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for long.”

He leans forward, nose brushing against yours gently, before he kisses you, this time with lips that welcome the gesture. Your fingers find their place in his hair, moving you in closer though it seems impossible.

But this is where you’re meant to be. The only place you’ve ever truly felt at home is in Loki’s arms, and you feel sworn to his heart, same as he, as you kiss him with all the love you’ve never stopped feeling for him.

And with the love you have for him always.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/N: I also took inspiration from The Time Traveler’s Wife & The Count of Monte Cristo, so thanks to those great stories for being real ones.

Taglist: @poisonquinzell @interwebseriesfan24 @blackholegladiator @animalover3000 @strawberrypincushion @dameronology @overly-obssessed-with-you @doublesunsets

#loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction

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celianity · 1 year

Text

we go down together - jj.m.

After being abandoned by JJ in a jail cell, you are not really on speaking terms. The chaos becomes perfect when three uninvited guests crash your little beach party.

disclaimer: just tapping back into writing - might turn this into a little story project (if anyone's interested)

warnings: slight swearing, fighting, mentions of underaged drinking, english not being my first language

His eyes are more unfathomable than the depths of the ocean as he watches me across the campfire. The flames draw sharp shadows on his face, and I avert my gaze, afraid to cut myself on its edges.

It wouldn't be the first time I've stained my hands with blood trying to resist his almost magnetic pull. But by now I have become a serious opponent myself.

The hand on my lower back increases its pressure, pulling me closer to the side of the tourist whose name I'm going to scream tonight with such conviction that JJ’s ears will bleed even on the opposite side of town.

Am I getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game? Yes. Will I conciliatory hold out my hand and admit defeat? Of course not.

The beer in my red plastic cup is stale, warmed slightly by the fire and the still-comfortable temperatures, just right to make the fingers wandering along my hip more bearable. JJ gulps and brings his own cup to his lips to mask the disgusted tug around his mouth.

I know all too well how that sight can burn into your retinas, how cruelly it can keep you awake at night while you ruffle your hair and curse yourself for your own stubbornness.

Rough fingertips against the bare skin of my thigh bring me back to the present and I find myself wishing they belonged to someone else. The conversations of my friends crash over me like a mighty wave, their laughter carried away by the wind along with the music playing quietly in the background. A strand of hair flies across my eyes, veiling the scenery around me for a split second, before it’s carefully being tucked behind my ear by the boy next to me.

Kiara's gaze is razor sharp, slashing my ribcage open with a clean cut down the middle, baring the scars on my heart. Under her scrutiny, I feel weirdly naked. Not the kind I would prefer under any other circumstances.

I give her a carefree smile and turn back to my companion, whom I met on the beach while surfing this afternoon.

I didn't tell Kie about the last fight between JJ and me for fear she might finally be forced to choose a side. That it most likely wouldn't be mine makes the corners of my eyes sting suspiciously.

Each rash word is just another mark on JJ and mine's score. Gentle touches, breathless sweet nothings, secret revelations, nullified by accusations that etched our throats with every syllable. A lame maneuver to hide the real depth of our feelings.

As if JJ didn't relive each of the fears in my head through the stories, I used to tell him late at night. As if I didn't anchor each ounce of his guilty feelings inside the pit of my stomach to relieve him of this burden at least a little.

The familiar outline of his clenched jaw almost makes me forget why we're at loggerheads. My fingers twitch and I claw them into the hem of my dress. He's not getting off the hook so easily this time, no matter how much I miss the weight of his arms around my waist when lying in my bed.

The idea of sinking Topper's boat may have been my doing, but the finer points of the exercise came from JJ's imagination.

I suppress a shudder at the memory of the musty dampness of the puny jail cell where I spent last night. Alone, mind you. That traitorous asshole tucked tail when the going got tough and Shoupe showed up at the chateau’s door. And yet, with each passing minute, I find it harder to keep stoking my rage.

I swallow hard and sway the half-empty plastic cup in my hand before emptying it.

In a household with unstable foundations, news of an arrest is like an all-consuming earthquake that leaves no survivors. Not to mention the sizable bail, which for my parents was more onerous bureaucracy than serious problem. A metaphorical slap on the wrist and they turned back to more interesting things.

I endured my friends’ taunts this morning with a gracefully raised chin and indulgent laughter, because I have solid ground under my feet while JJ balances on a tightrope.

Still, his betrayal hurts more than I care to admit.

Before my mind starts spinning again, I focus on the banter between John B and Pope, who are about to use absurd comparisons to fight out who would stay alive longer in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

A winner can no longer be declared, because at that moment three shadowy figures approach from one side of the beach. Their quick steps sink into the sand, making their strides look rather stodgily. This impression fades relatively quickly when I identify the figure in the middle as Rafe.

“Hey, ex-con,” he calls out, the echo of his voice reverberating in my bones. Topper and Kelce flank him on either side, as if clinging to their mom’s skirt.

The realization makes me laugh in surprise and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth. John B gives me an alarmed look before stepping around the campfire to face our uninvited guests.

JJ lowers his cup to the ground and rises as well, arms folded defensively in front of his chest. I can almost feel the tension in his shoulders and unintentionally take a step toward him until cold fingers snake around my wrist to hold me back.

A broad back slides into my field of vision and my patience snaps. Roughly, I yank my wrist free and circle the fireplace, stopping next to John B, ready to face the inevitable melee with my head held high. Somewhere behind me I hear JJ’s knuckles crack.

“Have they now robbed you of the last vestige of your already deficient manners?” Rafe taunts and the hostile undertone in his voice makes me shudder. “So, a little refresher of the natural hierarchy should be just right, don't you think? It’s always tit for tat.”

“Since when do you let Mommy fight your battles, Top?” I ask challengingly, studiously ignoring Rafe. “We’re even, you dickheads. You had your fun with Pope, and in return we had ours with the Malibu. You should have heard her heartbreaking screams as she sank.” My choice of words hit the mark.

Rafe marches directly toward me with sweeping strides and I brace myself for his outburst of volcanic proportions, already seeing myself covered in ash kneeling amid the lava-covered landscape. He should really learn to get his temper under control. My jibes would be far less fun if they were met with an impenetrable countenance.

He has almost reached me when a blond shadow tackles him to the ground, causing sand to spurt up in all directions.

For a second of shock, we are all frozen before Kiara’s shouts and Pope’s groans tear the night apart. Topper has knocked the latter to all fours with a well-aimed punch to the stomach. Kie lunges for Kelce’s back, who gets a hold of John B’s shirt collar at that moment.

It's a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and strained groans.

And I stand at the edge of the scenery, squinting at the fast moving body shapes dimly lit by the fire like a fish out of water.

My tourist companion secretly sneaks away behind my back, but I couldn’t care less.

Taking a deep breath, I snap out of my stupor and grab Rafe’s lunging arm around the bicep before it can smash down on JJ’s face like a sledgehammer. The momentum of his movement makes me stumble, and I claw my fingers harder into his heated skin.

He whirls around, an animalistic glint in his eyes, ready to get back at me even though we’re not on direct war terms with each other. Shining blood wets his split lip, forming a thin trickle down his chin.

A spark of fear settles in the pit of my stomach. But he's not the only one willing to take a slap in the face for his friend.

“Don't even think about it", JJ presses through clenched teeth, kicking Rafe’s legs out from under him. He collapses like a blown up building and JJ manages to put him in a relentless headlock. “We’re even, you bastard.”

Finally, he pushes Rafe off of him as the latter's complexion turns an unhealthy dark red in the fire’s glow. Rafe lands on his stomach, unable to soften the fall with his hands, growling faintly.

My warning catches in my throat as JJ turns to face me, gifting Rafe with a moment of inattention for his next attack.

JJ’s fingertips slip from my outstretched palm.

Rafe pins him to the ground with both knees, fingers curled into claws around his neck, squeezing relentlessly, while JJ wriggles under his weight to get free again.

Feverishly, my eyes search for a way out, but the others are too busy trying to prevent various body parts from being broken. Pope and John B keep Kelce and Topper at bay, while Kie tries in vain to settle the fights.

That’s when I spot JJ’s backpack leaning against a log by the campfire and rush toward it, desperately hoping to find the gun inside that he rarely leaves the house without lately. He has an unfortunate habit of not having it at hand in dicey situations.

Half blinded by my rising panic, I rummage through the contents of the bag, gracing the coldness of his motorcycle keys and a bag of weed before my fingers close around the handle of the gun.

Two shots rip through the night, interrupting the melee for a few seconds. Steadying my hand with the other, I aim the barrel at Topper's sweaty face, wandering further over Kelce until I reach Rafe.

“The next shot is a hit.” I warn, taking a few steps forward to reinforce my words.

Breathing heavily, JJ shoves Rafe off of him and struggles to his feet. My friends slowly drag themselves behind me until Kooks and Pogues are facing each other, waiting with baited breath. Kie has an arm wrapped around Pope’s waist in support. John B, panting slightly, brushes his tousled curls from his forehead.

“You heard her.” Kiara snaps. “I wouldn't tempt fate if I were you.”

Rafe spits disdainfully at our feet before shooing his entourage in the opposite direction with a nod of his head. Apparently, a spark of his sanity has managed to save itself from JJ’s blows.

“Holy shit.” Pope moans, slipping from Kiara's grasp to slump against a tree trunk, his face contorted in pain.

“Now would you please put that away?” JJ asks, hesitantly closing a blood crusted hand around the barrel of the gun.

I glare at him. My heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding my veins, and for a split second I'm afraid my finger might slip on the trigger. I release my tense grip and drop the gun to the ground in front of him.

“Careful, Maybank. I may have just saved your ass, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten about my little jail holiday.”

His gaze becomes veiled again and it’s like sitting in this damn cell anew, hands clasping the bars, waiting to be released. But this time I turn around and throw away the key.

For now, I don’t crave the sweet taste of freedom.

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj x kook!reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #rudy pankow #obx season 3 #obx cast #obx netflix

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justwritedreams · 2 years

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The heart never lies | Jeno

Jeno x Reader, exes to lovers au!, parents au! Word count: 3293 Genre: angst, fluff. Warning: none, i think Author: Maari Note: That’s way angst than I planned lol sorry I suggest to read while listening to the heart never lies by mcfly 🥺 Request: sis but like-- i'm a sucker for nct as dads okay? and i like have an obsession with the mommy secret and we don't talk anymore like---- please i loved them so much are your request still open aosksksk 😭😭😭 i want a Jeno one pretty similar with these two, i don't know, single dad, single mom, kinds emoish Jen blah blah. like Hot Sauce Jen

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Y/N smiled softly as she watched the small and innocent face sleeping in her arms, she caressed the chubby pink cheek feeling her heart fill with love. This had been her routine for a while and she couldn't resist, making her son sleep in her arms was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Even though her throat closed up every time she watched how her son reminded him so much and every time she sighed as in addition to the love that surrounded her heart, an enormous sadness also consumed it. It's been an year. An eternity without hearing Jeno's laugh, without his cologne filling her nostrils, without feeling his touch, his kisses... A part of her blamed herself, she'd blocked any kind of contact she could have with him after the fight and the breakup—even though in Jeno's words, that wasn't the end of them—and of course the discovery of the pregnancy. She didn't want to know how happy he was away from her. Living life somewhere else as if everything they'd lived together hadn't mattered. But the other part screamed at her not to be selfish. Jeno had the perfect job opportunity, something he'd always been looking forward to since they'd met, moving to another city was in his plans and he'd gotten it. He couldn't miss that, even for her. Or for the son he didn't even know he had. Y/N shook her head to clear away all the dark clouds of memories she didn't want to relive, she promised to herself that the ghost of the past wouldn't haunt her again, for her son's sake. It didn't matter if she felt anxiety every time she thought about Jeno, like he was still around and was going to walk through the front door of her parents' house. So, slowly she put her son on the couch and covered him with the blanket that belonged to him, seeing that he just adjusted better and continued sleeping. She got up from the couch and started picking up the toys that Daejung had scattered on the rug. 6 months and he was already more agitated than ever, Y/N even laughed when she thought what would happen when he started walking. As soon as she put everything in the small chest, she was startled when the loud doorbell echoed throughout the house and instinctively she looked at Daejung, he shifted on the couch and Y/N ran to open the door before the doorbell rang again and woke up the baby. Only she knew how hard it was to get him to sleep and if he woke up now, in addition to being irritated, most likely he wouldn't sleep again. She opened the door, hoping it was her brother who'd forgotten the key.

"Don't ring that bell again-" She held up her finger but stopped midair when saw that it wasn't her brother. Much less her parents. Y/N felt her mouth open and her eyes fill with tears as her mind didn't accept the figure that was in front of her, not knowing what to say or how to do it, she just stood there staring at the last person she imagined knocking on the door from his parents' house at 4 pm. “Y/N.” it felt unreal to hear his voice again but the shiver that ran down her spine told her it was actually real. "I can enter?" “Jeno.” the voice was just a whisper and her breath hitched as if she'd just run a marathon. But it was just her heart beating too fast as she looked at the black haired boy. He was still the same one she remembered, hair a little longer but still the same, not that she ever thought she'd be able to forget him. She never could. “How… What are you?” she couldn't form a complete sentence, her brain seemed to have stopped working and Jeno looked at her with guilt and concern. "I needed to talk to you." he spoke softly and she shook her head, laughing. More of desperation. “Did it take a entire year for that?” she questioned and looked back, from where she was she couldn't see Daejung and she wanted to slam the door in Jeno's face but there was something that stopped her. “Do you really want to discuss this here?” he asked seriously and she was silent. No, but she also didn't know if she should let him in. Before she could answer, Daejung started crying and Y/N ignored Jeno and all the questions in her head and ran to her son. He was still sleeping on the couch, his eyes fighting sleep not knowing whether to stay open or closed and Y/N stroked between his mid eyebrow, a trick she'd found worked. "It's okay, my love." she spoke low. “Mom is here.” she saw him smile quickly and went back to sleep, breathing deeper and she stroked his head as heard footsteps. It was only then that she remembered Jeno was also there and felt her blood run cold, swallowing hard she looked up to face him and he looked at the scene completely confused. Jeno and Y/N remained with their eyes fixed on each other, it was almost as if they could talk telepathically like they used to, but this time there was a huge barrier separating them, the same barrier that prevented them from talking about anything. Silence in this case was the best answer, because Jeno didn't need to hear anything, it was very clear to him. Therefore, he approached the sofa while Y/N cringed, she just looked away to look at Daejung's serene figure and she felt her heart beat much faster and her body produce more saliva than usual, which made her swallow several times and Jeno looked at Daejung. "You could have told me." Jeno spoke softly and moved even closer to the couch, staying behind Y/N who was still sitting on the couch but she could feel Jeno's body heat and it intoxicated her. She shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face. "It wouldn't have made a difference anyway." Y/N leaned on the sofa and got up, her legs already trembling as she felt that at any moment she would collapse, this caught Jeno's attention and he looked back at her. "You had other priorities." Y/N tried to leave, that approach with Jeno wouldn't do her any good, but anticipating what she would do, Jeno held her arm gently. She stopped and Jeno brought his body even closer to hers, their trunks now practically touching. “You were always my priority.” "Is that why you left?" she questioned, her eyes getting more and more full of tears, and let go of the arm that Jeno was holding. His arm dropped unwillingly to his side. "There are no excuses, Jeno." “Do you want to talk about excuses with me?” he pointed against his chest and glanced at Daejung. “What about him? You hid my son from me!” Jeno's words, even though they were loaded with hurt, made Y/N go silent. Hearing them from him was worse than she'd thought. She hadn't hidden it because she wanted to, she had to do it even though she knew it wasn't right. "How do you know he's yours?" she asked and saw Jeno smirk. "The heart never lies, isn't that what you always told me?" he shrugged and Y/N felt her jaw drop. Did he still remember? "And because I believed you when you told me you were mine." Jeno cut the rest of the space that separated them, making the bodies finally meet, and brought his hand to her chin, making her lift her head and look him in the eyes. "I'm not that innocent little girl who thought she was going to have her fairy tale with you anymore." she raised an eyebrow, trying to sound steady but her voice failed in the end. "Isn't that what we have here?" he pointed with his other hand at Daejung and she hesitated for a moment. "And I'm seeing that you're not a little girl anymore." Jeno looked at her from head to toe, causing a shiver to run through Y/N's entire body. “Do you think flirting with me will change anything after all this time?” Yes, her body screamed. Jeno cocked his head, his eyes were smiling playfully and it was almost as if he was taking it as a challenge. "Is that what you want? Tell me, I do.” Y/N got lost in the intensity of Jeno's dark eyes, it had been so long and even after feeling so much resentment, so much anger at having felt abandoned, her body still reacted the same way. Hands sweating, eyes blinking too much. By God, she even looked like that fifteen-year-old girl who'd confessed to him that she was in love. But reality reminded her that she wasn't that anymore, so she put her hand on Jeno's wrist that was still touching her and lowered her head. “Leave, Jeno.” she asked, uncertainly. The texture of his skin was still exactly the way her fingertips remembered it. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked in a soft voice and that only made Y/N even more confused. In response, she just nodded, still avoiding looking him in the eye. Without hearing her voice, Jeno leaned the foreheads together and the hand that held her chin went to her cheek and covered her with the warmth she had been missing for so long, Y/N even felt a shiver on the back of her neck when Jeno's fingers touched that place unintentionally. "Then look into my eyes." even though he had ordered it, Jeno's voice was so calm that Y/N couldn't resist the will of her own body and do what he asked and her legs wobbled, he was too close and it was the perfect opportunity to dive into the immensity of dark eyes . "Tell me it's too late and I swear I'll be gone forever, you'll never see me again." Y/N remained silent, as much as she was angry and upset, that wasn't what her heart wanted. She had suffered for many months for the lack of Jeno's presence but she was aware that she would never be able to live without him. But she still couldn't step on her pride and simply allow them to go back to what they had before, she had never been in such a difficult conflict and the way Jeno was staring at her so intensely wasn't helping her body to hold on. She always thought Jeno's eyes spoke a lot more than he ever did and always managed to find all the answers there. And as in the past, she saw that he was sincere. She could see the pain he felt as well as she did, as if his eyes were a mirror reflecting her own anguish, her own sadness but also her hope. As if the world was spinning very slowly, Jeno brought his lips closer and captured them with a passion held for months and miles that separated them, Y/N felt her entire body tremble and heat at the same time, heart practically jumping out of her mouth with that surprised, quick touch. "You can't think that just one kiss will make me-" she started to speak when he pulled away enough but was silenced instantly, Jeno this time kept his lips together and she only closed her eyes when she saw him he did it first, surrendering to the longing he felt. Jeno's free hand grabbed her by the waist and brought her closer, Y/N felt her body collide with Jeno's and she placed both hands on his chest to balance herself as she sighed against his lips. Jeno's lips were warm and tender just as she remembered, even with the feeling of discovering themselves for the first time, he knew exactly what to do to leave her practically swooning in his arms. That was why he used his tongue with agility so that Y/N didn't have time to think about anything but opening her mouth and allowing the tastes to mingle. The kiss, while slow and sweet, was also reconnecting them again with how they felt about each other. As if all the barriers, all the uncertainties and the lack of communication had turned to dust. Jeno felt his chest hurt so hard it made Y/N stay there but he didn't care, Y/N grunted as his hand went to the back of her neck and held her tight as she tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss even more. But all the heat that Jeno's body emanated and found with her own, plus the way his tongue played with hers, made her lose strength in her legs and her breathing much faster than she wanted and she had to force her hands against his chest, more defined than she remembered it, to pull away. The foreheads met again as did the heavy breathing, noses touching softly and when Y/N opened her eyes and saw Jeno's swollen red mouth she forgot what had made her pull away. To be honest, would she have the strength for it? "Forgive me." he said, opening his eyes and Y/N frowned, confused. “For leaving without you, not knowing what you were going through. I always felt there was something holding me to you besides the love I felt but I didn't know what it was." Y/N smiled weakly. "It was your dream, I would never ask you to stay and live a life you weren't ready for." she replied, looking away and her fingers started playing with Jeno's shirt. “I always wanted to have a family with you.” he snapped, making no move to release her. He couldn't even do that now. “But not without planning.” Y/N remembered the plans she and Jeno had made in the past, he would get the dream job and take her with him, after he was stable, they would find a better place to live and have two kids. But fate decided to advance everything. Jeno got the job in another city too quickly at the same time Y/N found out she was pregnant, not wanting to destroy Jeno's plans she simply didn't tell him about the pregnancy and stayed in town, letting Jeno believe she would wait for him. And well, she did. Along with Daejung, badly missing him. But she never said anything about her son, or let anyone know that the baby was Jeno's because she knew it would make him go back and leave everything he'd conquered, she'd feel guilty and he'd feel pressured. "Everything I had planned, every dream I had has become meaningless without you." Y/N stared at him, feeling the tears come back. “I confess I was upset when you said we'd better break up and when I asked you to wait for me because I'd be back, it was a promise. I didn't want to leave you but I had to. I understood why you didn't want to keep in touch when I left, but it was like I left a huge part of myself with you. I didn't even feel complete, and after so much time focusing on my work I realized that being there without you wasn't what I wanted, so I came back earlier to try to convince you that I didn't run away." Jeno smiled sideways and the fingers still firm on Y/N's waist began to make a slow caress. "But I was a little surprised when my parents told me they hadn't seen you in almost an year." “As hard as it was, I knew that if your parents knew, you would eventually find out. So when my belly really grew, close to being born, and a little later I hid from everyone.” she confessed and Jeno took his other hand to cover hers which was still playing with the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. "And would it have been so bad?” Y/N laughed through her nose and shook her head. “I knew you'd be back right away, I just…” she shrugged and Jeno encouraged her to continue. "I didn't want you to give up everything for us and end up regretting it later." Jeno looked at her with compassion and brought her face closer so he could place a lingering kiss on her forehead, Y/N just closed her eyes at the contact. “The only thing I regret was wasting all this time.” she opened her eyes and saw Jeno staring at Daejung with a twinkle in his eye, one she rarely ever saw. "Having missed your growing belly, the birth of my son, the nights with him. Forgive me for not being here when you needed me the most, for not holding your hand on the nights you were alone." Y/N didn't even notice the tears starting to run down her face, she only felt it when Jeno stared at her cheeks and reached for his hand to wipe them away. She felt her heart warm, as if she were melting all the ice she had built up during the time Jeno had been away, and she saw how sorry Jeno was. He practically begged. “I’m the one who must ask for your forgiveness.” Jeno shook his head, as if he said it wasn't necessary, but for Y/N it was. “I hid it from you because I was afraid. From everything, from everyone.” Jeno didn't let her continue and hugged her tight, practically crushing her against his body, but when he felt Y/N relax as she just brought her hands to the back of his neck and played with his hair, he could relax too. He didn't need to listen to her explanations because he understood, he didn't want to relive the wounds left in the past, he just wanted to convince her that he was back to fight. Fight for their love, fight for her and with her. “Who knew that the couple who talked the most during high school would break up just because of lack of communication.” Y/N spoke and laughed against Jeno's skin, making him smile, more at the memory. "I promise you this will never happen again." Jeno pulled back far enough that he could look Y/N in the eye, steady and intense in the way it always was with him. "If you'll let me, if you'll forgive me, I'll take care of both of you." Y/N didn't need Jeno to say anything else, she saw it in his eyes that it was true. Unlike the day when she really thought they were over, when she didn't have the courage to look him in the eye, now she believed. The eyes are the door to the heart, they say, and she could see Jeno's there. It was sincere, pure, hard to resist. And the truth was, she didn't want to resist. Because in all her dreams it was that moment when they arrived, when they stayed together, when they fought together. She could never ignore what she felt for Jeno, it was too strong and the bond they had would be eternal. Daejung bound them for all eternity. “Of course. I love you, Lee Jeno. More than before.” she saw Jeno smile broadly. "I love you and I'll be here forever." he promised. And she knew he would keep that promise, just like all the others.

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skayafair · 1 month

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Petulant Children

Apparently I have an especially soft spot for insufferable kids characters who are in fact just... lost, aren't treated properly by their parents or sort of remotely parental figures and go completely south as a result?

Like Yellow from Malevolent or Jamie from Give Me Away.

Because they behave like they are terrible (and that's the opinion of other characters, too) but in fact they aren't bad at all?

(Funny thing is that they both are from podcasts about headmates of sorts.)

I don't think I need to say anything about Yellow (but of course I'm still going to). It's not exactly a "parent-child" situation and I actually hate the implication that Arthur shaped him completely (and Larson just continued to hone the traits he needed). Like hello, even with amnesia there was some personality in there, Yellow just didn't have enough time to sit and take everything in, gain various experiences to make more informed judgement. John did have this time while Arthur was in a coma. He had time ON HIS OWN to remember and process himself (not as in remember his past - just... himself, what kind of a person he feels he is and what he wants). Yes the result changed him into something completely new but some core things like curiousity stayed intact. He can still be violent, he's still very much murder happy if it means survival, he snaps easily, and he hates lying. Everything that made the King - the King, a dangerous and at times vicious god, is still there. He only changed the point of view, and the rest followed.

Yellow didn't have this opportunity. Arthur was snapping at him and telling him what he was supposed to be (and failed time and again) all the time, cutting many curious questions short (Arthur really is father of the year huh), so any positive traits - positive, joyful for Yellow himself - didn't have much room to grow. Hatred, though... and then there was Larson who didn't even have to make much effort manipulating his rage and hurt to get what he wanted. It's not every day you get to use an eldritch god, amirite? Gods I hate Larson so much

So what do you get when one doesn't remember his past, only some very, very terrible and frightening things he managed to escape, then he's constantly berated, and when he rightfully feels fury, it's being fueled more and more, - AND not a moment to himself, on his own? Exactly. Yellow does say and do terrible things, but... it's not because he's evil or vicious. He's conditioned to behave this way.

Now, to Give Me Away.

Jamie in ep 9 (I'm in the middle of it but needed to dump my thoughts and emotions somewhere first because there were too many) acted completely on impulse, I get it, and it's more because she wants to be a hero and by that to prove to her mom and sibling and to everyone else she is as good as Thalia or even BETTER. I know. It's a very selfish impulse. But it a) doesn't change the fact that she's still trying to save everyone's lives and b) values her life LESS than validation from her family and people around, and this is fucking tragic. I just want to hug this kid (yes I'm 31 so I'm allowed to say a 22 yo is a kid, more so when she behaves like one) and get her some therapy, gods know she needs it (and will probably resist kicking and screaming so she needs to see the necessity herself first).

I mean. Whatever the reasoning, she can still die.

And yet she's going along with the plan.

Although she's really her father's daughter, and I'd say she at least developed SOME spite. Graham is so detached I have to wonder at times if he's even there at all, it feels like most the time he would be happy to surrender the body and mind to Joshua completely, unless one of the triggers like Jamie is up. The way it feels... Graham wouldn't mind being in a computer, probably. Just exploring stuff and thinking it over. He already spent most the time inside his head by the time of the divorce. He's pretty desperate because he doesn't know what to do with his life, to the point when it feels like he doesn't want to live all that much in general but dying is a bit extra for him, too. One of the rare cases when I want to say "Grow some balls ffs!" but then can't get rid if the thought that if he did he might have killed himself, which is... no.

Jamie is wrecking havoc wherever she goes, appears to not care about morals much, but in fact she's just as empty inside and desperate to be SOMETHING, something meaningful. Graham finds fulfilment in his inner values, so he actually doesn't care much what everyone else thinks - as long as it's meaningful enough by his own standards, it's enough. Jamie seeks outside approval. In any case, they both are wrecked mentally.

Having BPD, I know how it feels. I really feel for them both, their cases are pretty extreme exactly because they didn't find the ways? didn't search? didn't have an opportunity? to fix those neural paths to fill the yearning void inside in a non-harmful way. That's why their cases are tragic to me. Instead of making their choice out of pure moral values and desire to save others they want to save themselves this way. Only it isn't gonna work.

The more I listened, the more the pressure inside grew: I want to scream at Graham sometimes that he's not getting better this way, he's only digging his pit much, much deeper. And now Jamie does the same, although in a different way. They both don't need to do what they are doing, they need help. It's painful to listen.

I don't know why Give Me Away strikes me so much. I didn't have such a visceral emotional reaction to stories for quite a while.

Also Joshua should be thankful for Graham because he really needed that mental slap. Being too full of himself is a road to ruin, and his hubris can bury not just himself but all his people along with him, and then some.

#malevolent podcast #john malevolent #john doe malevolent #yellow malevolent #give me away podcast

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grayintogreen · 1 month

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WIP WEDNESDAY

It's Wippy Wednesday, my dudes. And it's a YCDHN week, so here's a juicy little snippet from Chapter 43.

The solution to wizard problems being more wizards was both a phenomenally terrible idea and somehow the only sensible one being offered. Most of the protests came from the actual party wizards who believed that no one, upon being awoken from centuries of stasis, would willingly fight in a war they had no stake in.

“But they would fight mage killers in their territory,” Lucien had grinned over their shoulders and that had shut up the debate on Essek’s end. Caleb had dragged his fingers through his hair and wandered off to pace.

The trouble was that these bubbles were resistant to average dispels. Even Cree couldn’t unravel the threads with hemocraft. Time was of the essence and they were violently throwing themselves at the one solution that still had caveats. This would work if they could break the bubbles and that if was becoming a dangerous gamble.

Lucien kept going back to the one in the center of the Viventum ward- the blonde wizard and her gaggle of frightened children. She was the one who would give them help, he knew that, felt it deep in his soul. The lone unselfish wizard who hadn’t tried to just save herself. He placed his palm on the bubble again and stared through the shimmering dome as if there was a secret hidden within no one had noticed.

The goggles around his neck felt strangely warm, drawing his attention. Mithril always ran cold even when warmed by his furnace-hot skin so for it to increase so noticeably in temperature was something to be regarded. He chewed on his bottom lip and slipped the goggles over his eyes.

What are you telling me? He adjusted the dials around the eyepiece, reaching through the connection he had with the Vestige. Click, click, click. Stop. He could feel it, a niggling in the back of his mind, like the hand of Danoth Oro, the man who had invented them and had his work exalted into the realm of legend, was whispering in his ear. No god had touched this Vestige, only a clever mortal who wanted to see the world that was hidden and prevent people from taking advantage of him with magic.

You’re a worthy successor, you keen-eyed scoundrel, the voice seemed to say. Use it for what matters to you.

Not use it for good. Of course not. Lucien was never going to be good. He was going to be better. This was a kindness he was doing, but it was also genuinely useful to him and no one ever said he couldn’t have it both ways. There was no shame in having an ulterior motive operating alongside your generosity. That was how the Nein saved the world- selfishly.

The Vestige opened up before him, all of its powers revealed to him, and he smiled, knowing why Fate had put this in his path. He’d give Her Majesty a firm dressing down in a mock prayer later. For now, he was thrilled to feel the power of reaching out to magic and simply dissolving it into useless strands of the weave again.

The antimagic field flickered into being with enough force that the dome shattered, knocking its occupants onto their asses on the ice. The children let out screams they had been holding in for years and threw themselves upon one another, clawing and clambering like puppies, scared out of their minds.

The blonde wizard’s form flickered with red crackles of arcane energy as the antimagic stole away her disguise, leaving her sprawled on her back, gaping like a fish. Gone was the pretty blonde thing and in her place was a leggy older woman with short brown hair that hung in greasy strands around her pinched, heavily lined face. She was rail thin and barely dressed in a low cut purple tunic that barely hit her knees. Fern-like veins of deep blood red lined her legs and arms and snaked up her throat.

She pushed herself up onto her knobby elbows, stared at her hand where a ring was sparking with dying arcane power. She tapped it a few times and then lifted her hand, as if to conjure something, and found that died to sparks too. She huffed.

The first words spoken by an Aeoran on Exandrian soil in hundreds of years was a profoundly deadpan (and in perfect Common no less), “Fuck.”

#wip wednesday #cr fanfic #life in the margins of redemption #my writing #take a wild guess what this woman's purpose in the overall narrative for future stories is

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macabremoons · 8 months

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Midas' Prologue

TW: Grimoire being himself, sicko for sicko romance, possessive behavior, anxiety, and general dark themes.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: "Wow, Moon," you ask with sweet innocence, "you're four concept stories in. Are you closer to understanding this wip?" No. No, I'm not. Honestly while I like this I still haven't untapped Grimoire's true insanity. One day, truly. Oh! Sabelina's name has been changed to Annabella <3 Anyway enjoy!!

Rain taps on outside of my tent. I try my best to relax to the sound, but the smell of petrichor takes my mind right back to where it was running from.

The sword shifts from more to less than an itch away from my face. Cassander smiles down at me, and my mind is flown back to my father. All this effort, and he regards me with the same causal power.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I can afford this time to recoup, but I can not afford to be consumed by fear. I still have to find a way to get out of Cassander’s hands. I’ve escaped them temporarily, but he will be back, even madder than before now that Grimoire has killed so many of his men. I’ve steeled myself through many things on this trip. Corpses, infected wounds, screaming soldiers. This matter is not different. Rather, I refuse it to be.

The tent flap goes up, and I go deathly still. I resist the urge to cover the tear marks on my face, but then I see who it is and sigh.

“Grimoire, you still need to announce yourself before walking into my tent.” To my delight, my voice doesn’t waver.

“My deepest apologies, my lady. I am a bit tired, so it must have slipped my mind.”

“Tired? You?”

Grimoire laughs softly, flopping onto his side of the tent. “Yes, me; tired. As violent by nature might I be, too much of it is still exhausting.”

My eyes dart away. He wouldn’t be so tired if he hadn’t had to save me from Cassander. It strings—seeing my exact failure stare back at me. Worst yet, Grimoire has been very obedient lately, and said obedience allowed me to make mistakes. His resistance before had felt like a curse, but now feels like a blessing in disguise.

“We’ll take a break then. I have many things to do,” I say. He doesn’t reply. He’s drifting off, but he looks tense. “Wait, Grimoire.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Sleep in my bed tonight. The floor is not enough for proper rest.”

Grimoire opens his eyes, staring into mine. His eyes stake through me completely, but I stand my ground. I must look ridiculous, but if I want respect, I must demand it in any circumstance. A king that can not be mocked by his jester is a coward, after all.

He wordlessly gets up and slides into my bed with me, face down. He’s quite close to my thighs. Too close, even. Though there is only so much space in the bed for him to be comfortable. I’ll just bear through it.

“Might I ask one question?” Grimoire whispers.

A single question in a lifetime of servitude. “I don’t see why not.”

“Does the taste of violence satisfy you?”

I begin to regret my kindness immediately. “I’m not sure I understand.”

He turns to look at me. “Violence is blood, and blood is life essence, at least for me. For you it’s power, no? But power at the hands of violence is an acquired taste. Do you like it?”

My fingers curl around the blanket. “I’m not scared of violence.”

“Mhm? I didn’t think so.” His lips ghost my skin, but I am too angered to be embarrassed by it. “No, no. You’ve been in too many battles to be scared of violence. I just don’t see that you enjoy it.”

“It’s a means to an end.”

“So you don’t enjoy it?”

“I am not sadist, Grimoire. Of course I do not enjoy violence.”

“But you enjoy the power it brings?”

Is he of all people suggesting pacifism to me? Grimoire reeks of blood.. He’s washed of it now, but you can see it in his very soul. Or the nook it used to be in. Nothing I could do would compare to him.

“Ah,” Grimoire hums. “That is more than one question. No pressure to answer, my love.”

A way out of this conversation. An easy solution, I do not take those anymore. Grimoire’s words could be excused with exhaustion, or it could be that exhaustion is letting him say what he really feels about me. If so, I need to know this. Grimoire is my greatest ally, and therefore my greatest enemy.

“I do enjoy the power it brings. Words can only get one so far. Or, perhaps ,they could get a different person farther, but I am not in a position to be propelled far by them. You know I had to fight just to be here.”

“Verbally, but yes.”

“We wouldn’t still be here if I did not resort to violence.”

“We wouldn’t be, no.”

The format of his words irk me. “You have more to say.”

Grimoire sighs. “Wouldn’t it be better if you were in the bed, like I am? You deserve rest too, you know. We are not in a battlefield, my lady, no need to be so tense.”

I should deny him, but I am tired. I sink into the bed. A sparkle goes through Grimoire’s eyes, but his expression does not change. Something, too, goes through me. Grimoire is my familiar, but he is still a man. This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with one.

"Well?" I press.

"Time takes most things despite how tough they are. Maybe I just worry it will take the fire you have with it.” Grimoire gives another soft laugh. “Or maybe it’s not my place to say at all. Yet, your desire is so warm. Ah, I’d miss it.”

Warm? The rain has me frigid cold, and I can’t stop shivering from fear. Grimoire thinks too highly of me. I wonder if it’s delusion from living for so long or another part of his… charm.

His words make me even colder. He’s slightly right. I find myself not missing the men lost in battle until I have to send letters home. It’s easy to have poison testers until they find poison. Does this make life not worth living? Does this mean that my dreams should not be achieved just because I might feel differently about them years later? An easy answer comes to mind.

“Maybe I’ll puke on the taste of bloody luxury later, but I am certain that starvation kills. I do not have the hindsight to tell you you’re wrong, but—” Words catch in my throat. They scramble away from me, leaving only the truth that lets me sleep at night. “I have to become more than my father’s daughter.”

Grimoire stares into my soul one last time before smiling wide enough I can almost see his fangs. “We will have to find out together then, mhm? I am excited to see it. Whether you like your Midas’ touch or not, I’ll stick with you. High heaven or low hells—they’re all the same to me, my lady.”

“Such is the life of a familiar,” I murmur. My tiredness is catching up to me, but I force myself to stay awake.

Grimoire leans in closer. “Sleep. No one will harm you by my side.”

As I drift off, I call back to my own thoughts: greatest ally, greatest enemy.

Taglist (ask to be added!!): @anonymousfoz, @stesierra, @leisoree, @immortaladrien, @lyra-brie

#project forevermore #my bloody masterpieces #my writing #p. 4mr: annabella #p. 4mr: grimoire

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whumpwillow · 2 years

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Demon’s Haven 5

I was going to do something else but then this happened

masterlist

warnings: conditioning, fucky headspace, self-worth issues, past torture, broken bones

—

The demon had never understood human affection. The way mortals craved attention, love, each other. To be held, kissed, and comforted. He knew they all wanted it. He’d made them want it—to always want more more more—

Stop.

The demon’s breath hitched at the entrance of an impure thought, caught inside his throat. He buried his face deeper into the crook of the witch’s neck, wanting to hide from what he expected to come for him. The lash of a whip, the burn of holy water, the pain from the memory of his former life.

Yet there was no more pain. Well, he still felt it everywhere in his body, all those bleeding welts and unhealed gashes that tore open his skin and flayed his back into mere shreds like it was nothing more than simple cloth. The bruises and the broken bones, the unending hunger that gnawed at him. the burn of the holy water that still coursed through his veins, a fire eating him alive from the inside. But no, no fire. He was not consumed with fire, with treachery, with punishment.

He was alright.

Yes, this. He burrowed into the embrace of the witch who’d summoned him, desperate for safety and reassurance.

He’d never understood the need for something like this in his old life, only that he knew others wanted it, which made him want it as well. He wasn’t sure if he knew now what he wanted, but at least it made him feel less like he could blow away on the wind and disappear completely.

It kept him tied to this place. The more he held onto the witch, the more attached to reality he became, less caught up in the horrific visions that played out in his mind.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but the witch never left him. Her hands brushed through his hair and her voice whispered to him from above, soft and gentle and unlike anything he had ever experienced. Her touch was feather-light and unrestrictive, and the demon knew he could break away if he wanted to. He didn’t want to.

He looked at the witch, who’s hands fell away from him and back to her sides.

“Wanna try again?” she asked.

The demon nodded, even though he really didn’t. He hadn’t realized how much simply moving would hurt—he’d been trapped in the summoning circle for the past few days and unable to go more than a few feet in any direction, and before that…

The demon gulped.

“Here,” the witch said.

She placed one of the demon’s arms over her shoulders and began to stand. The demon tried to move with her, despite the pain white-hot in his chest. His bones jutted together against the skin, threatening to break free from his body like a caged bird. The demon bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

He hadn’t even taken a single step yet.

“There you go,” the witch said softly.

She was pleased. Okay. This was good. Pleased was good. Pleased meant he wouldn’t be hurt. He had to keep going, no matter the pain, no matter his insignificant injuries. He wouldn’t die—he was an immortal. The most important thing was to satisfy the witch right now. She was the one who held his fate in her hands; he was too weak to resist anything she might want to do to him. And he knew that humans, when pressed, could be as cruel as angels.

The demon bent at the knees and panted, but he was on his feet. His fingers dug into the witch’s shoulder and he settled them when he realized how hard he was squeezing, not wanting to anger her. She was kind. She hadn’t hurt him yet. He didn’t want to make her cross with him.

The moment he stopped relying on her support, he hit the floor. The demon’s side slammed into the rocky surface and he screamed, the sound released on an exhale as the impact knocked the wind from his body. His already-broken bones snapped and bumped against each other, causing flares of pain to radiate throughout his body.

Shattered.

The witch tried to catch him before he went down, but he slipped right out of her grasp and tumbled to the floor. She was at his side in an instant, kneeling before him. She bent her head over his and the demon felt strands of her hair brush over his bloody cheeks. He focused on the sensation of it rather than everything else as he screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out the pain.

The witch was saying something, but the demon couldn’t make it out. He felt her hands on his face, gently stroking away the tears.

Oh, he was crying again.

The witch adjusted herself and placed the demon’s head in her lap. She set a hand on his hair, and the other went to find his uninjured hand.

“I—hic—”

“Shh,” the witch whispered. “You don’t need to apologize.”

The demon tilted his head back to look up at her. That was exactly what he had meant to do. After all, that was the good thing to do—he had disrupted her plans and not followed a direction properly. He should have been punished for his failure, but to not be given his deserved pain was incredibly gracious. He had to at least let her know.

“I—I failed…you.”

The witch tilted her head to the side, her face a clear mask of confusion. She blinked a few times. The demon searched her eyes for any malice, yet he found none.

“What do you mean?” she asked, brow wrinkling.

The demon coughed, then pitched forward at the strain on his broken ribs. Blood dripped from his lips and down his chin. He opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t think of the right words to say. What kind of answer would she like? What if he said it wrong? But he had to say something, he couldn’t just leave her question unanswered or she would think it rude—

The witch gently squeezed his uninjured hand, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Nevermind. Let’s just try and get out of here.”

She helped the demon stand up again and he made sure not to let go this time. He decided to be bold and leaned his head on her shoulder too, and when she didn’t protest, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He could feel a small ripple of laughter run through her body, which delighted him more than he’d imagined it would. She’d only ever looked frustrated, sad, or angry, but if something he did could make her happy, then he would gladly do it over and over again.

“That tickles,” she said, her voice light as air.

Ah, the demon realized. His hair had brushed against her cheek.

He moved his head away, but the witch reached out a hand and gently moved his head back on her shoulder.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” she added.

The demon breathed in, then out, shaky and unsure. The witch said it was alright, but how long would that last for? He didn’t know when she would get tired of him and throw him away—she could easily push him off the cliff if she wanted to. She could turn him in to whatever authorities dealt with demons here, and he could guess what sorts of torments he’d face then. He shivered.

He was too weak to fight back against her if she turned to violence. He was doing everything he could to stay on her good side but kept falling down when she tried to help him walk, and even as she soothed him, the demon wondered when those hands that caressed his face and wiped away his tears would soon sink their nails into his skin.

Even if the witch did want to hurt him, right now, she was the only one he had. There was nowhere else to go back to.

For now, this would have to be enough.

—

taglist: @whumpsday @whump-cravings @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @elrys-creates @cupcakes-and-pain @emcscared-whumps @wolfeyedwitch @inpainandsuffering @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

#whump #whump writing #my writing #willow writes #demon whumpee #demon whump #witch caretaker #original work: demon's haven #oc envy #oc haven

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pacificwaternymph · 1 year

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Gem's spell in the Deaf Scott AU doesn't imprison Xornoth. Instead, it just stripped away the corruption, sealing it in the crystal.

Xornoth falls unconscious immediately after being uncorrupted, and when they awaken in a hospital wing, they remember everything. They're horrified, guilt ridden, and scared. Of themself, of what will happen to them now that they're free of Exor's control. And then they remember what happened to their little brother.

They beg to see Scott, to visit him even just once just to see how he's doing. No one thinks that's a good idea. So they keep him in the Crystal Cliffs' prisons.

But they keep asking. And eventually they realize that they aren't going to let them see him. So they break themself out.

Everyone is panicking, search parties are going out, and then Gem remembers what it is that Xornoth has been asking nonstop for the past several days, and rushes back to Rivendell to check on Scott.

To her shocks, when she busts the door open, Xornoth is there. And Scott is in their arms, allowing himself to be cradled and clinging to Xornoth like Gem has only ever seen him cling to Jimmy, sobbing into their chest.

When Xornoth sees her, something akin to resignation enters their eyes. They tell her not to worry, they won't resist. This was all they wanted, and they're satisfied now. She can take them back. They stand up, although Scott still grips their hand, so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Gem tries to separate them, but Scott lunges for Xornoth as soon as she does, fighting back more with more energy and determination than she's ever seen in him since his captivity. The palace guards have to get involved, holding him back.

Even Xornoth can't calm him down. They try to tell him it's okay, they'll be back. But he can't hear them. They try the chalk board everyone's been using to communicate with him, but he won't pay attention to it. When Gem tries to intervene, Scott shoves her out of the way, and screams out in a strained voice:

"STOP!"

It's the first word he's spoken since his rescue.

It's only once Jimmy arrives that they manage to convince Scott to let them leave. Gem takes Xornoth out into the hallway, both of them shellshocked.

When Gem demands to know what they did to Scott, Xornoth insists they don't know what happened. They didn't think he would react like that. Fear, anger, maybe even relief, that was all on the table to them, but that kind of desperation? So strong to draw such a powerful reaction from him?

Gem theorizes that because Xornoth looks different than they did when they were corrupted, Scott may be reminded of the person they were as a child, and thus looking to his older sibling for safety, as he did when he was younger. He may not be making the connection, in his current state of mind, between his sibling and the demon whose underlings were responsible for his condition in the first place.

Xornoth, guilt ridden and on the verge of a breakdown, says maybe it's better if they don't see him again, if they have such an affect on him. But Gem thinks that it would do him more harm than good. Right now, she reasons, Scott is seeking comfort in whatever is familiar to him, and Xornoth as they are currently, is familiar.

There are conditions, of course.

They aren't allowed to be alone with Scott, Jimmy or Gem has to be with them at all times. They have to agree to have their powers restrained and when not visiting Scott, return to wherever they decide to keep them. But Gem concedes to allow them to stay in Rivendell, and help their brother's recovery process as part of their "sentence" for their actions as a demon.

And with Xornoth already drowning in guilt for their actions while possessed, how could they ever turn such a generous offer down?

#deaf scott au

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 3 months

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Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 4

Episode 2: Brawl in the Hall

~In the Man Cave~

Nothing is ever normal, not when you're a superhero. But for once, the not-so-normal thing wasn't happening to (y/n) or Ray or even Henry, it was Charlotte who had landed herself in hot water. It had been a regular day at school, she'd been in class, learned some stuff, had lunch and had just been about to go to Junk-N-Stuff for work, but then, she ran into trouble. Trouble being Bysh Bilsky, the infamous sister of the school's number one bully, Mitch.

It had all started when they were waiting for Piper to drive them to work, a terrible idea but neither she nor Henry could be bothered to walk and Piper had a licence technically, so why the hell not? It had all gone to shit when Jasper told them that in his detention session, he'd had the absolute pleasure of spending the hour with Bysh herself and the friends had taken a moment to just reminisce about the time she had hilariously put a scorpion in Miss Shapen's purse, something that in Swellview High was legendary, not that Bysh took it that way.

She'd, unfortunately, walked through the corridor at the wrong moment and overheard something about her name, followed Charlotte laughing. Jumping to the conclusion, the notorious, rough girl got into a bit of a scuffle with the certainly less bulky teen and challenged her to a fight, like they were some kind of freaky knights or wrestlers. Of course, Charlotte freaked out at the situation, not wanting to get into trouble or beaten to a pulp, but when Henry tried to pop a gumball so Kid Danger could teach Bysh a lesson (she blew a raspberry in his face, she deserved it), he and Jasper rounded the corner to see that she'd chucked poor Charlotte into a trash can, something which Piper couldn't resist to hype up.

Where were the teachers? Well, Miss Shapen did turn up eventually and for a second, she was like an angel sent down as a saving grace, until Piper opened her mouth, spilling everything about the fight; when it was happening, who was competing and how she was gonna profit from it, mark her words. Miss Shapen argued that neither of the girls could fight in school, by allowing it she would definitely get the sack, but there wasn't a rule about brawling out of school hours. Loopholes, they're great.

Sharona was adamant, the girl would have to have their fight when no teachers were about, so the date was set. Seven-thirty, Monday morning, Bysh Bilsky versus Charlotte, the fight of the century and it wasn't long before the shitstorm on Piper's fairly popular Twitflash reached the news. Some people have strange things to report on.

"Ray! Ray! I need you! Where are you?!" (y/n) screamed, rushing down from the sprocket as she searched her home from top to bottom for her handsome boyfriend, who hadn't been in the bathroom, hadn't been in the bedroom, hadn't been in the kitchen. He was lounging around on the couch, reading some crappy book and snacking on chips when she came bounding down to excitedly tackle him, her knees straddling his waist as she whipped the book from his hands and forced him to look into her eyes. What was all the excitement for?

"Sweet girl, you still needy after this morning? Two and a half hours not good enough for you? You know you'll have to wait until tonight, 'cause Henry and Charlotte will be here any minute." Ray smirked, his hands settling on her hips as she blushed and looked away from him as she understood the entendre. It was true, their morning had been particularly busy and she'd be a liar if she said that just a tad more wouldn't be unwanted, but that's not what she had run across the Man Cave to tell him. She had news, important news, not that he was interested; her figure was much more enthralling and his hands were starting to wander.

"No, it's not that. And I'm the needy one? Your hands are on my ass." (y/n) whined, trying to keep her on the ball, but he had a one-track mind. He could never get enough of her and at the endearing sight of her red cheeks, he trailed his touched up her spine, bringing her body closer to his so she could rest her cheek on his chest and his arms could settle around her waist. A comfy position, one where he could regularly press kisses to the top of her head and temple, smell the scent of her shampoo and perfume and she could hear the thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat.

"Not my fault, babe, you know I love your ass. And your beautiful face. And your sexy legs. And don't get me started about those fantastic boobs." Ray grinned into her hair, making her smack her palm against his shoulder as her blush grew darker. She loved it when he went on and on about what he loved about her, which was everything, from her head to her toes, but every time, it made her shy and gave her to urge to bury her face into his shirt.

"Shut upppp, flattery will get you nowhere." (y/n) mumbled, fanning her cheeks a little, something that highly amused her boyfriend. His shoulders shook as his chest rumbled with laughter and he took in the moment of just having his girl in his arms, no stress, no worries and he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear so he could kiss her cheek more easily.

"What did you want to tell me?" He asked, returning to the original matter at hand since it had seemed quite urgent. She altered her position, preferring to sit with her legs across his lap as she imparted the news, suddenly regaining her excitement from before she remembered why she had made the sprint to him.

"Oh, yeah! Have you not seen the news? The breaking story?" She looked into his eyes, dragging a hand across his cheek as he frowned, creasing his eyebrows. He hadn't heard or seen anything and wondered what could have happened that made her get all giddy. She normally wasn't that pumped about the news, well only if it was really interesting.

"No, what's happened?" He murmured, clasping the hand that was tenderly touching his cheek and pressing a kiss to it, loving to go the extra mile just to spark one of her cute reactions. She gazed down at him with such fondness and revelled in the fact that she knew something and Captain Man didn't, a rare thing when you consider how Ray had eyes and ears everywhere.

"Well, I was scrolling through KLVY News and I noticed that Charlotte, as in our Charlotte, has been roped into some fight with that girl who got out of prison last week. You know, the mean one? Bysh Bilsky? She goes to the same school as Henry. Why they've decided to put it on the news, I don't know, but—" She revealed, prompting a sudden energy from her boyfriend as he sat up sharply in the middle of her sentence. Charlotte was fighting who? That girl? She was just a wall of mass; impenetrable and packed a punch and Ray knew one thing. Charlotte was gonna die.

"Wait—Charlotte's fighting Bysh? Oh, man..." He suddenly smiled, confusing the girl in his lap as he suddenly looked like he had cogs turning in his mind and by the fascinated expression on his face, he had been struck by an idea, good or bad.

"What? What are you thinking about? I know that look..." She asked, her voice curious with the hint of a warning as she got the vibe that he was up to something and from experience, she knew that Ray could get up to some right mischief when she wasn't looking. He loved a fight, whether it was promoted on TV or underground in a school, he was gonna get behind it and back Charlotte all the way 'cause without him, she was gonna lose. Hard.

"Sweet girl, I gotta make a few calls. Be back in a bit, you wait here for when Henry and Charlotte get back." The words tumbled from his mouth and after a brief peck pressed to her honeyed lips, he gently moved her legs from across his knees and stood up, running off and leaving her to wonder what the hell he was doing. Who or what was so important that he wanted to leave his sweet girlfriend on the couch, alone and wanting for more kisses?

"Wha—? Ray, where are y—and he's gone. Honestly, why do I bother?" (y/n) muttered, crossing one leg over the other and blowing a wisp of hair away from her eyes as she pouted on the couch. Even when it was just the two of them, tender moments never lasted long and she could only imagine what craziness the next couple of days would bring her. She just had to wait for those two troublemakers to get to work before the real mayhem started.

~Twenty minutes later~

"You just gotta get a baseball ball and then you just hide in the bushes—" Henry advised his friend as they stepped out of the elevator, drawing (y/n)'s attention as she glanced up from the previously abandoned book from Ray and saw that they had finally made it to work. It was pretty boring without anyone around, but she was still fascinated to learn both about the fight and what her boyfriend had planned concerning it.

"No, no, no. I just wanna forget about Bysh and that stupid fight that Piper got me into, okay? Because I am not—" Charlotte told him firmly as they dumped their bags. She was a nervous wreck as it was and wanted a few hours of distraction doing whatever crazy stuff the superheroes wanted because, in all honesty, she didn't want to fight. She was scared of getting hurt, of course, she was, but also, she didn't want to cause any trouble with Bysh. She had no beef, it was just a misunderstanding, not that she could get away from it.

"Hey, guys. What goes on?" (y/n) greeted them as she stood up from the couch, walking over to the teens who ceased their arguing when she entered the conversation. Finally, someone sensible, maybe (y/n) could convince Henry that this whole thing was crazy and that fighting wasn't the answer. Yeah, she knew about the fight, everyone did at this point, but they'd get into that gently...or not.

"Ugh, stupid school stuff. I got into a fi—arghhh!" Charlotte rolled her eyes, ready to go into a full explanation of her circumstance, but out of nowhere, three, unknown guys jumped out from a very sneaky hiding spot, scaring the bejesus out of Charlotte and (y/n), and spooking Henry. Where the hell had they come from? The young woman could swear that no one had entered the Man Cave in the last half an hour unless her observation skills were slacking, not to mention the fact that such weirdos had managed to hide from her watchful eye so perfectly. One looked like a karate, Mr Miyagi type, the next must have been a lumberjack because he was like a human mountain, freakishly tall, chubby but definitely still packed a wallop and the third, well, he just looked like a nut. He had dark, dirty clothes, a mad glint in his eye and was that blood under his fingernails?

"What the hell?" (y/n) gasped, clasping her heart as her fists clenched and instinctively curled up to her chest, ready to punch whichever sucker came first, not that she'd stand much of a chance against three weirdos like this. And she wouldn't have to, whilst Charlotte laid petrified on the floor and Henry and (y/n) pondered fighting or not since these assholes were in the Man Cave uninvited, Ray came out from his hiding spot, behind the tube pads. He cackled at their pale faces and tense bodies, clapping at how he'd got them good, even if no one was laughing with him, especially not his sweet girl.

"Ahh, kids..." He chuckled nostalgically, lightly jogging over to the group with his spring in his step as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)'s shoulders and brought her into him so he'd give her a soft kiss, but she still wasn't happy about being scared half to death. And why had he put on that zip-up sweater? He looked like he was gonna be working out or training...

"Hey, doofus, what was that for? And why'd you leave me all alone?" She pouted, accepting his touch nonetheless as their lips met briefly and he gazed at her with such love, it nearly made the teens gag. Geez, couldn't he just propose already and put them out of their misery? It was nearly as bad as when they were still oblivious, pining idiots whining about how they were "destined for loveless lives". Lovestruck idiots, that's what they were.

"Yeah, Ray, you maybe wanna tell us what's going on?" Charlotte jumped in, brushing the dust off of her butt as she got to her feet again. She wasn't amused by the situation, her day was going terrible enough and unlike with (y/n), icky kisses and revoltingly rotten words wouldn't melt her annoyance away.

"Sure. We are about to get you ready for the...brawl in the hall." Ray smirked, punching up to Charlotte as his friends(?) agreed with gravelly hums. Wait a second, he gestured to the karate one, the huge one, the insane one, himself and (y/n)? Why was she getting dragged into this? It was the first time she heard about it and she wasn't entirely sure if she could teach anything to the girl. Yeah, she could hold her own in a fight, but she'd learnt pretty much everything she knew from Captain Man, so why she had to get her hands dirty was beyond her.

"Wait, wait, wait, are you talking about the Bysh Bilsky and Charlotte fight?" Henry smiled as (y/n) tried to take it all in. This was his big plan? Turn Charlotte into a lethal machine in just a few days? Yeah right. Ray had been trained to kick ass since he was a boy, he'd honed his skills over many, many, many years of practice and battle experience, there was no way she could do the same, not even with the men behind him.

"No, how would Ray know about that?" Charlotte corrected him. They barely just left school and it was just some stupid teen stuff, so she saw no reason for any adults in the city to know about it. News doesn't travel that fast...unless it's being pushed by Piper Hart.

"Wait, have you two not seen the news? I showed it to Ray earlier." (y/n) mentioned, nudging Ray to flick on the computer monitors with his remote so they could rewind the channel back to the earlier news report.

"What news?" Charlotte questioned, her voice lilted with fear, apprehension and annoyance as she dreaded with she was about to be shown. No need to panic. It wouldn't be that bad, it would merely be one of those shitty, mini-stories they did that no one ever watched, it's not like she had become a minor celebrity in all of this.

"Uh, this." Ray pointed to the computer and the group walked over as Mary and Trent appeared on the screen. Hold on, this wasn't just a small report, this was a headline and they were talking about Charlotte?

"And finally, this story comes from Swellview High School. Notorious bad girl, Bysh Bilsky, was released from jail only two weeks ago, but she's already stirring up a ruckus." Trent started, making the teens frown as they heard Bysh's name. Geez, they didn't know how bad Bysh was, she must've been infamous if she got onto the news this quickly and she'd dragged someone else on too.

"That's right, Trent. According to our high school informant, there's gonna be a big, nasty fight." Mary smiled, not even caring about the violence and danger of two teenagers fighting, she was just in her own little world. There were no guesses for who the "high school informant" was, but Henry would bet his money on his sister. Come on, Piper's phone never got a break, it was definitely her.

"Apparently, Bysh will be pummelling a local girl named Charlotte Something, on Monday morning, just before school." Trent's words finished the report and Ray paused it there. Okay, not being bothered to find out Charlotte's surname was just adding insult to injury, but even worse, the whole city knew now, and that meant this thing was getting out of control.

"But I don't wanna fight. I don't have to fight if I don't wanna fight, right?" Charlotte protested, looking to her friends for advice and help, but they weren't too sure. Chickening out was a sure way to get your reputation shredded and your face battered by Bysh for letting her down.

"I mean, you could not fight, but I don't think Byshell would like it. Y'know, she's a bit...insane." (y/n) replied tentatively, cringing at how the girl threw her head back and released a long, loud groan. She didn't want any of this, she didn't want to get beaten up or seem like a coward, there had to be something better.

"But don't worry, because I have brought you the best personal combat instructors who would come here for free," Ray told the girl smugly, dragging (y/n) over to the three men he'd found and stood with one arm around her waist and one hand on his hip, looking particularly proud of himself. Whether it was safe to have them in the Man Cave was unknown, but he seemed to trust them, so they all went with it.

"And, uhhh, who are these...guys?" Henry asked, looking mainly at the new dudes, he didn't think the woman was in on it. She wasn't really the type for mindless violence, but maybe she could give a few useful pointers, something that Ray often struggled with.

"Well, you know (y/n), also known as Miss Danger, the hottest crimefighter in Swellview. She can kick anyone's ass." Ray smirked, his voice laced with pride as he bragged about how cool his girl was, his eyes showing the kids how utterly whipped he was. He loved that she could beat up bad guys and look good whilst doing it, and how she could've chosen any guy she liked, Lord knows that enough of them chased her, but she didn't want them. She wanted him and that made Ray want to keep her by his side forever.

"I did not agree to this." (y/n) replied in a singsong voice, looking up at him, only to stop when she saw the dumb expression on his face. What was up with him? Was it something she said? Or something he said? Oh, right, the hottest crimefighter thing, that's why he looked like his brain had been reprogrammed, something which Henry couldn't help but snap a quick pic of just to save for...y'know, something special.

"Please, do it for me, sweet girl." He begged, wobbling his bottom lip just for effect and paired with his puppy-dog eyes, she couldn't help but say yes. Those damn eyes...

"All right, fine. I'll show Charlotte some moves, but you better tell me who these guys are, 'cause this wax-on, wax-off guy is staring at us." She sighed, nodding her head over to the karate man and Ray noticed how his combat instructors were getting antsy. They just wanted to beat someone up.

"This is Sensei Juke, a multi-degree black belt in shishito, pad-Thai and quinoa." Ray introduced Juke, although someone should've really told him that all of those "skills" were actually food. Where did he find this lot again?

"Now, this man here is Harley Birch. He may look outta shape, but...don't let the flab fool ya." Ray smirked and put both of his hands on the man's (enormous) stomach so he could wobble it around, but when he did, something dropped out from under his chubby rolls. They looked like car keys and they have been wedged under his belly for safekeeping or something.

"Sweet cheese, what is this?" (y/n) asked him, picking the sticky thing up between her forefinger and thumb. She felt like she needed a megaphone and binoculars just to reach the man's face and hearing, he was just so damn tall, but he seemed friendly. More like a big, friendly giant.

"They're ma car keys. I'll just put 'em back there in ma flab." Harley told her in a deep, growling voice and plucked the keys from her fingertips so he could tuck them back in his pants and under his belly. He had pockets, but maybe he wasn't a pocket guy. Anyway, the next guy looked the craziest, like he would switch at any moment and beat you up, leaving (y/n) with the feeling that she wanted to hide behind her boyfriend's back, where she knew she'd always be safe.

"And, uh, who's that person?" Henry nodded to the final guy, who stood with his hands on his hips and a mean glare on his face. He definitely looked like tough stuff and honestly, if he didn't have the whole crazy thing going on, he'd probably be quite cute, not that (y/n) cared. Ray was cuter. A lot cuter.

"Ah, this is Kevin. Kevin is—arghhhhh!" Poor Ray, he made a big mistake putting a friendly hand on Kevin's shoulder. The instant his fingers touched the man's body, he picked up a glass beer bottle and cracked it over Ray's head, shattering the glass everywhere and causing the superhero immense pain. Thank god he was indestructible because that might have seriously wounded him. "You don't do that until I say it's okay! What's the matter with this—ow!"

(y/n) looked murderous when Kevin decided he didn't like Ray's tone and grabbed another bottle, this time breaking it over the finger that was pointing at him. Ray had been looking at the kids when it happened, so it really was quite cruel that he preyed on his oblivious mind and that's what really pissed her off. No one hurts her boyfriend like that, not twice and not when he was being a nice guy.

"I'm gonna knock him out. Give me the word and I swear, I'll knock him out." She growled, leaning forward to grab a metal crowbar from his collection of junk, but two firm hands on her waist brought her back before Kevin could kill her. Or before she could kill Kevin, either way, not something Ray wanted to clean up, especially not Kevin's battered body if he even dared to touch one hair on her pretty head.

"Drop it, sweet girl, drop it. Come on, put the crowbar down." He mumbled into her ear and she reluctantly stepped away from Kevin, who had puffed out his chest when she grazed his weapons. She was gonna keep an eye on that one, but she couldn't complain when her boyfriend hugged her to his chest just to keep her calm.

"Fine. But one word out of "Kevin" and I'll fuck him up. I will, I swear." (y/n) muttered, standing calmly once more after he placed a thankful kiss on her lips. She was nowhere near as strong as Kevin and certainly didn't have any crazy driving her to beat him up, but just knowing that she was willing to go that far to protect him when he didn't even need protecting, well, that was heartwarming.

"I know you will, but Kevin is a street fighter, he utilises any items or objects he can find in the streets," Ray explained, and even though this guy sounded tough, (y/n) was still pretty sure she could fuck him up. She'd faced minions, monsters and villains, Kevin was just a punk, no biggie and if he dared to do anything else that annoyed her then he'd find one of Miss Danger's heeled boots in his face.

"Um, aren't items and objects the same thing?" Henry piped up, unable to help himself from pointing out his boss's redundant words. It made the girls chuckle, seeing how it annoyed Ray since he was trying to be all Captain Man cool in front of the seasoned fighters (he could destroy each of them, no problem), but with Henry mocking him, he couldn't do that. He just seemed like an idiot who didn't understand the basics of the English Language.

"What have a told you about sass?" Ray growled at him after mocking the way he spoke. He really didn't take criticism well, but Henry had learned not to be afraid of his warnings, they were funnier if anything. With (y/n) in the room, he'd never fully lose it, so he was free to chuckle at how irate he got.

"Whoa...sorry." He giggled, turning his back on the man so he wouldn't see his laughter. That would only make Ray madder and he wasn't particularly interested in starting a fight, not when they needed things to stay calm and normal in the Man Cave. The right kind of environment would help Ray pick the moment to propose and they were dying to see it happen, so if Henry poked the bear and made him angry, it would never happen and then he'd be public enemy number one.

"Now, we're all gonna work together to turn you into rad, bad, Bysh-busting ma...shad," Ray smirked but lost at the end when he realised that without a rhyme, it didn't sound nearly as cool as he wanted it to. He needed to spend more time coming up with rhyming quips, this was embarrassing.

"That sounded better in your head, didn't it?" (y/n) asked him gently and didn't even need an answer to know that it was the truth. He might have thought he sounded stupid in the end, but to her, he was just down-right adorable.

"But I don't wanna—" Charlotte tried to tell him. She didn't need to learn any fighting techniques because she didn't want to fight. It wasn't because she was scared or because she didn't want to get into trouble (okay, well, maybe a bit), she just thought that this was a mistake and if she explained herself to Bysh, then it would all go away.

"Music!" Ray interrupted her, not caring for any excuses. He wanted some sick beats that would get them pumped for their training, but when he turned on the speakers with his controller, it was still playing an entirely different playlist, one that made him and his girlfriend blush. The fact that the combat trainers started boogieing made it worse too; the song was slow, sweet jazz, a love song and boy, it was a tad embarrassing to hear it play in front of other people.

"That is our love mix," Ray mumbled shyly, hearing (y/n) squeak from mortification and then felt how she pressed her face into his back to stop anyone from seeing her burning cheeks. Charlotte looked perturbed and disgusted while Henry looked amused and smug; yeah, they definitely knew what was playing and the sight of their scarlet cheeks just confirmed it. What a saucy pair, getting it on to such a cheesy song, it was nauseating, hilarious and kinda cute all at the same time.

"Please turn it off before I burst into flames." (y/n) groaned into the material of her boyfriend's jacket, pulling away momentarily to see Henry trying to keep in his giggles and that was enough to make her want to melt into a puddle. Why did it have to happen with so many people around? She didn't know what was worse, the fact that strangers knew two very intimate details about their relationship or two of their closest friends who just happened to be innocent teenagers.

"Here we go. Upbeat montage." Ray quickly did as she said and changed the playlist to an energetic song, one that definitely spoke training time to the kids and allowed (y/n) to cool down her scorching cheeks. Never again would she let him leave the playlist on pause. Her embarrassment melted away when she felt her boyfriend take her hands so she could dance with him, something that weirded Charlotte out when her friends insisted on dancing in front of her. Even Henry joined in, forgoing any shame since everyone else was grooving too, but Charlotte didn't dance, not ever.

Okay, after the dance session was over, the real work began. True to his word, Ray was gonna train Charlotte, whether she liked it or not and Henry was the first to show her how. He tugged a blindfold down over his sidekick's eyes, waving his fingers around to make sure he couldn't see, but Henry didn't get it.

"Wait, why do I have to wear a blindfold? He asked the couple, feeling (y/n)'s smaller hands on his shoulders as she guided him into the right position for the training. They didn't want him accidentally punching or kicking or breaking something.

"So you can't use your super-fast reflexes." She told him, letting him stand on the padded mat as Sensei Juke came over with Charlotte. He took the girl's arms into his hands and on Ray's count, began to show her how to throw his elbows and fists at the boy like a true martial arts master.

"And one and two and prep and kick! Nice!" Ray instructed, watching how the girl soon got into a rhythm, moving on every number as Henry braced himself for a foot to the face, but luckily, he was just a dummy and she didn't actually hit him, thank god.

"Okay, thanks, sensei. Charlotte, let's see what you got without any help. Punch and kick, Henry." (y/n) instructed her, wanting to see if any of the karate guy's advice and teaching was going into that big brain of hers. Juke bowed and stepped off the mat, leaving Charlotte to glare at her opponent as Henry suddenly got nervous. Wait, they were gonna cause him pain now?

"Wait, what?!" He gasped, trying to run away since he was about to be attacked and he couldn't see it coming, but he just ran into the young woman's arms, who turned him back around and shoved him towards Charlotte again. "You're a superhero's sidekick, you can deal with it."

"And...now!" Ray shouted and the pain began. Charlotte elbowed Henry in the gut with all her might before spinning swiftly so she could land a roundhouse kick on his face as he doubled over in pain. Henry fell to the floor and the combat fighters applauded the girl's effort as she high-fived (y/n) and Ray checked on the groaning boy.

"Y'all right?" He asked. It was a stupid question; Henry was writhing around the mat, clutching his body as he felt the after-ripples of pain shooting through his belly and face. Okay, Charlotte definitely had some power behind her punches. "No."

"He'll be fine. I think." (y/n) told her boyfriend, looking down at the boy with him. It was just a small bump and he'd gone through worse as Kid Danger, granted he didn't have the protective suit on, but whatever.

~ Next, it was Harley's turn to show Charlotte how to beat someone up. Henry once again was the guinea pig and reluctantly stepped forward so he could grab his waist, roll him over his shoulder and thump his body onto the mat. It was pretty impressive and made the couple hype Charlotte up as Henry lay there. Not so impressive for him.

It was Charlotte's turn to practise what he preached. Harley stepped off the mat and the girl stepped forward to give it a go. She grabbed Henry's shoulder, then curled her arm under his stomach so she could lean back, let his weight fall onto her body, and kick his hips over her head in some kind of weird role-poly. Well, she knew how to do it now, but from the way Henry was groaning and moaning, he had taken too much of a beating to carry on, so who else could they use as a dummy?

"Schwoz!"

~ It was crazy Kevin's turn. He'd given Charlotte a big stick to whack Schwoz with and since it was pretty self-explanatory, she was just gonna go for it alone this time. Schwoz was shitting himself, he had just been relaxing in his room, chilling in his favourite planet-print onesie when he heard Ray's shout, but when he came out to see what was happening, he felt a shiver of regret run through his body. Charlotte was ready to whack him and he was just expected to stand there and take it, no matter what pleads he gave his boss.

"Action!" Ray shouted, giving the girl the signal to beat him and his complaining died when she struck him harshly behind his knees, causing him to drop the mat where she was able to really hurt him by dropping a heavy trash bag onto his bag. Whatever was in it was fucking heavy, leaving Charlotte pumped as she laughed at the defeated man and her friends clapped. She was doing well to say that she was just a beginner.

"Whoa, I can't believe it! I can really fight!" Charlotte exclaimed as she casually stepped over Schwoz's body and grinned at Ray. She felt like fire was coursing through her veins like she could take on the world and make everyone who dared touch her run away with their tails between their legs, but she was yet to face her greatest challenge.

"Yeah, but now, let's see how you do against...(y/n)," Ray smirked, turning the girl around so she could see the young woman standing in the middle of the mat with her arms crossed, an amused expression on her face. She'd taken the liberty of getting changed into some gym stuff and was waiting for Charlotte to show her if she could use her newfound skills to beat her, Miss Danger, Captain Man's (hottest) sidekick.

"I won't go easy on you, Char. Show me what you got." She told her, pulling her fists up to her jaw as the girl shuffled timidly onto the mat, worried about how she was gonna do. Would she even be able to land a hit? Beating up Schwoz, who couldn't fight to save his life or Henry with a blindfold was one thing, but beating up (y/n) with no help, just her wits and whatever punches she knew about was terrifying. She wanted it to be easy, she wanted to feel good about her situation, it was the only thing she had going for her.

She started with an attempt to throw an elbow into the woman's stomach as Sensei Juke taught her, but it was dodged easily, (y/n) just stepping to the side so she stumbled forward. Next came the roundhouse kick and Charlotte put every once of muscly energy into the spin, but like a true tactical fighter, the woman predicted her move and leaned back on her heels to avoid her foot. Charlotte stopped spinning, feeling completely dizzy, which gave (y/n) a chance to shove her onto the mat by pushing her butt with her foot. Ray didn't know whether the cringe or be proud; he loved seeing his girl so calm and collected, agile and graceful, but on the other hand, he needed Charlotte to hold her own.

"Get up. We're not done yet." (y/n) told the girl firmly, making her stand up on shaky knees so they could keep going. Charlotte charged towards her, a new determination going through her body as she tried to do the grabby, roly-poly thing but when she tried to bend the woman's body to her will, she just stayed rigid and giggled when she struggled to get her to move. Breaking away, she switched tactics, deciding that if she couldn't use the fancy moves, then a straight, simple slug to the face would do. She threw her arm, aiming for her nose, but (y/n) knew that old trick; she caught the fist before it even touched her face and bent her arm backwards as gently as she could before taking her to the floor in her own special way.

That gotta hurt. Ray shook his head as (y/n) got up again, panting only slightly as Charlotte whimpered in pain. To be fair, it wasn't even as rough as she could've done it, so her pain was only minimal, but the way the teen was carrying on made the instructors chuckle and Henry groan. Bysh was a real fighter, so if Charlotte couldn't even rough up (y/n) then she was gonna die. But they still had one option; if her fists weren't working, then maybe some weapons would.

"The more you train, the less it'll hurt. Come on, get up." (y/n) repeated, forcing Charlotte to her feet as Kevin nudged the stick into her hands. Okay, this was a bit better, using something else stopped her from getting too close and her body getting bruised. One last attempt, this was it, she had to use the last of her energy if she had any hope of winning on Monday; where was that fire from before?

Charlotte started swinging, going for her knees since it had worked so well on Schwoz, but her opponent just jumped back, keeping her movements light and springy so she could dodge with ease. On the next two swipes, (y/n) ducked swiftly, grabbing the pole with her hands before it collided with her shoulder and raised it above her head like she was gonna crack it over the teen's skull. Of course, she would never, not even in her darkest dreams, but the prospect of getting whacked was too much for Charlotte, who dropped to the floor and curled up in a ball like a little hedgehog fearing the world. The problem was, Charlotte wasn't a hedgehog, she had no spikes or methods of scurrying to safety, so if this was a real fight, then she'd be bloody and bruised by now.

Ray and Henry walked over to the shivering girl as (y/n) dumped the stick and the instructors wandered off. They'd seen enough of the pathetic girl and her cowardly inability to even scratch one woman (granted, said woman was a bit of a legend), and frankly, so was Ray. This whole exercise had failed.

"Think you should stop the music," Henry told him, feeling like the moment was over. There was no more enthusiasm to see Charlotte fight, just a burning sense of disappointment and dread when they thought about how Monday Morning was going to be a bloodbath and it wasn't Bysh who'd be bleeding.

"Yeah." The superhero sighed, and clicked off the speakers, curling an arm around his girl as she came over to his side. Her skin was a bit tacky from the exertion of fighting but she looked so good in the tight, spandex, gym attire he didn't care. He just wanted to feel her smooth skin under his fingertips.

"What happened?" Charlotte gasped for air as the boys helped her to her feet and boy, standing up was painful. It felt like every bone in her body ached, but looking back on the brawl, it was just a blur, like she'd had her eye closed the entire time, which she sort of had.

"Well, Charlotte, I kicked your ass but, to be fair, you can't learn everything about fighting in one three minute montage...or beat a superhero who's been training with Captain Man for years." (y/n) shrugged, earning a glare from the girl who suddenly felt deflated. Yeah, she'd learnt some stuff but there was no way she was gonna get to her level in two measly days, so it felt like all her pain had been for nothing.

"Then what was all this training for?!" She snapped, looking mainly at Ray since he was the orchestrator of it all, the one whose stupid idea it had been. She was a child, what did he expect from her?

"...That's, uh...that's a fair question," Ray replied, unsure of what the true outcome had been for all of them. He'd had a good look at his girlfriend's ass, Henry had had some entertainment and Charlotte had been beaten up, thus learning nothing. Not his best idea ever. His answer spoke volumes to her despite his fumbling for words and Charlotte just sighed before collecting her bag and stomping towards the elevator.

"Hey, where you going?" Henry asked her. They'd barely started her training and he still had some stuff to teach her. Yeah, the first session always hurts, but it was like (y/n) said, you just have to push through the pain until it doesn't hurt anymore, that's how he'd done it as Kid Danger.

"Home." She answered sharply, jamming the up button on the elevator panel with nothing but annoyance to fuel her movements. It had been a stupidly long day and she just wanted to go and hide under the blankets on her bed where she'd be safe from the fight and whatever advice anyone had to give her.

"But we gotta help you figure out a way to fight this girl," Ray argued, not wanting to see her go. He felt bad for her, he knew that failure was tough but being so defeatist wasn't going to help anything. Surely, it would be better to stay and train with those who knew best.

"I've had enough of your guys' help, okay? I'm gonna handle Bysh myself." She snapped, showing the extent of her irritation. She wasn't smiling or leaving any room for arguing, but her friends were concerned about her going solo. Even if she talked to Bysh, she ran the risk of a punch to the nose, something they didn't want to hear about on the news.

"Oh, come on, you can't handle this person—" "You're too small—" "You're gonna die if you face her alo—" They all tried to dissuade her, make her see sense before they had to see her in a full-body cast in the Swellview Hospital, but she didn't want to hear it. She'd made up her mind and honestly, their advice hadn't been useful before. Yeah, (y/n) wasn't an idiot, but she was taking their side and saying that this wasn't a good idea.

"I said, I don't want your help or anyone else's, understand?" She looked at them in turn, her eyes serious and stern like she was commanding their obedience. If she really wanted to be left alone, then they could do that. They wouldn't like it, but they could do it.

"All right." "Okay, we won't help you." "If it's really what you want." They conceded, (y/n) hugging Ray's waist dejectedly as she felt a little useless after trying her best and not finding something that could help the kid. She didn't want to see her hurt, but she could understand that feeling when someone tries to dictate what you are doing. If it made her feel better, then she'd give her some space and hug her boyfriend instead.

"Thank you." She nodded, glad that they'd gotten the message and were willing to let her go, so she turned around and sloped off into the elevator, the door sliding closed behind her. Home sounded nice, but with her gone and off upstairs, the three supers were left to go back on their word.

"We're gonna help her," Ray said the minute the door was closed, speaking the thing that was on all of their minds. They helped people, that's what they did, they couldn't just leave Charlotte, sweet, innocent Charlotte, and send her off like a lamb to slaughter.

"Yeah, we're gonna help her." Henry agreed strongly, thrilled that he wasn't the only one thinking it. Yeah, it was a bit bad to lie to her face but in the long run, this was the best option, just a little bit of interference to save their friend from serious injury. Who could argue with that?

"Let's just not go crazy, though. She's already mad." (y/n) told them, knowing how their idea of help was much different to hers. They always went too far and thought too big, she was just thinking about roughing Bysh up a bit, intimidating her into surrender, something like that.

"Don't worry, sweet girl, it's all under control. Now, who wants spicy barbecue chicken wings?" Ray brushed off her concern with a peck to her nose before guiding her over to the auto-snacker where they could have something to eat. He had it under control, in fact, he already had something in mind, only it was a tad more dramatic (and stupid) than (y/n) had first thought.

~Monday Morning, fight day~

Well, the day had come. Bysh Bilsky was prowling the corridors waiting for her victim and had taken the liberty of getting a little warmup when Jasper gallantly offered to negotiate the fight on Charlotte's behalf. Spoiler alert, he failed miserably and felt pain like he'd never experienced before when she beat him up, his screams being heard in the corridors outside the janitor's closet and outside the school building where the fighter in corner two was skulking. Charlotte nervously pushed the school doors open and saw Bysh smirking her way when people realised that she'd actually been brave enough to turn up. Some clapped, some made bets and some prepared themselves for action, namely Bysh.

"Look who showed up to—" She started in her signature mean voice, but to everyone's infusion, Charlotte didn't run away or square up to her, she merely walked past as if she was invisible and calmly entered the janitor's closet where Jasper was still mewling in agony. The students and other randomers who'd turned up for some action were perplexed, but no one was more shocked than Bysh, the one who had expected the smaller girl to tempt a punch or something.

"Don't freak. There will be blood." She soothed the panicking crowd, not wanting to ruin the morning for everyone. She handed her takeout coffee to some girl and angrily marched to the closet. Charlotte was pacing, going over her rehearsed lines in her he'd so she could build a bridge with the girl, but she was spooked by the sight of her friend suspended from the ceiling with a load of cables and some duct tape over his mouth. Wow, Bysh really did a number on him.

"Jasper, what are you doing up there?" She asked, not putting two and two together, but thanks to the tape, Jasper couldn't answer, he just groaned and mumbled against the tape about how Bysh had tied him up for calling her cowardly. Normally, Charlotte would've helped him down, but then, the bully herself opened the door and her face looked like thunder. Oh, shit.

"It's time." She smirked, taking in the teen's shaking hands and how she lowered her gaze to the floor, something she was used to when talking to people around school. She demanded respect and those who didn't give it to her, well, let's just say they did after she sorted them out.

"I know what time it is. I wanna talk to you." Charlotte told her calmly, trampling down her fear in favour of meeting the eyes of her opponent, but Bysh wasn't much of a talker. She played things close to her chest and anyone who tried to break in would be met with serious consequences.

"So did he. Still wanna talk?" Bysh snarled, pointing Jasper as he was evidence of what she could do to those who pissed her off. Charlotte didn't flinch, not even when Jasper screamed and wiggled in the cables, trying to tell his friend o run before she was strung up too.

"Who hurt you?" Charlotte came out with it straight, shocking the other two in the room, especially Bysh. She hadn't expected that and was visibly taken aback when she was asked such a personal question. No one ever cared about her, her family was shunned and looked down on, so to hear someone actually care was jarring. "Huh?"

"Who hurt you?" The teen reiterated, knowing that it was always the same old story with bullies and she didn't need Ray's karate lessons to solve it. Bullies become bullies because of how they are treated, they get hurt and lash out, so if Charlotte could get to the root of that then maybe, just maybe, she'd see the real Byshell.

"No one hurts me." She snapped, still keeping her tough, reinforced, emotional walls strong up. Being sad or hurt or soft was a weakness and she'd never let this puny, little girl see how she was actually quite squishy on the inside.

"Yeah, well, I don't believe you. Because you wouldn't be the way you are unless somebody hurt you." Charlotte stood her ground, knowing that she was onto something here, even if it would take some elbow grease to chip away at her refusal to admit that she was hurting from how she'd always been treated.

"Girl, what the butt are you mouthin' about?!" Bysh spat, going with her instincts and stepping forward to beat the shit out of this girl who could see the pain on the inside, which forced Charlotte to duck under her arm before she got herself hurt. She didn't want a black eye, she just wanted to get through to her.

"You don't hate me, you're not even mad at me. But you're mad at somebody." She went on, trying to be truthful and tentative, even when Bysh switched to shouting at her like an animal trying to keep a predator away. She was snarling, but Charlotte wasn't scared. "Shut up!"

"And I bet that's why you go around looking for excuses to hurt other people. Am I right? Tell me!" Well, this was as brave as Charlotte got. She stood frozen as Bysh cracked her knuckles and breathed in sharply through her nose like she was ready to smash the girl's face in. "Come on...who hurt you?"

"It was...my stupid cousin, Cherise." Well, that was unexpected. Charlotte and Jasper shared a shocked look; neither one of them had expected her to crack under the questioning and reveal something so personal. Maybe Bysh wasn't the horrible girl everyone thought she was, maybe she was just someone who didn't know how to properly deal with her rage and sadness so she took it out on innocent people around her.

"Okay...tell me about stupid Cherise." Charlotte stepped into a full-on counsellor role, ready to hear every problem, every traumatic experience if it meant she wouldn't get beaten up and Bysh felt better. She'd learnt from the best, (y/n) knew how to talk to people when they were upset, so she could do it too, she just needed to be supportive and listen.

"I don't wanna talk about her!" Bysh barked, still feeling a little emotionally constipated, but that was okay. Even if she turned her back on Charlotte, there was no rush, they could go slow. Whatever she needed to talk about her feelings, she could have it, particularly as much time as she needed.

"It's okay. This is a safe closet." The teen reassured her with a hand on her shoulder, which earned her a glare but seemed to knock a brick from those walls around Bysh, who fiddled with some cleaning supplies as she debated if sharing what was on her mind was the best thing. "Come on, Byshell. Talk to me."

"It happened in third grade." She muttered, remembering that time with disdain and this had to be the weirdest thing Jasper had ever experienced. He hadn't planned on being a silent observer in a therapy session with a school bully, but it was interesting to watch.

"What happened?" Charlotte pressed, but she wasn't expecting Bysh to have some energy left in her for one last screaming match. She just felt the urge to shout her problems away, even if she did appreciate the concern deep down. " Girl, I'm telling you!!"

"All right, right, right, sorry." Charlotte flinched that time, not realising that she'd jumped the gun a bit and interrupted her when she was finding the words to explain the situation. Okay, she had to remember who she was dealing with, Bysh was still one of the most dangerous people in Swellview High.

"It happened at my birthday party, I was turning twelve." Bysh started, but Charlotte couldn't help but jump in again. Something about that sentence wasn't right, surely, in the third grade, she was too old to be twelve? Perhaps that was a mistake, or not. "You were turning twelve in the third grade?"

"Uh-huh!" Byshell snapped, not liking the judgement that accidentally slipped from her lips and how she seemed to be automatically assuming she was dumb. She wasn't, people just thought she was because of who she was and what she did. "Uh, nothing wrong with that."

"Anyway, the day before my party, I fell off my rollerblades and I knocked my tooth out. This one, right here, upfront." Bysh showed Charlotte the place where the gap used to be, but thankfully, had been covered up when the adult one finally poked through her gums.

"Oh, that must've looked kinda weird, huh?" Charlotte nodded, seeing where this was going. Kids could be cruel, especially if someone looked different and stood out from the crowd. And toothless people definitely stand out.

"Yeah...here's a pic." Byshell, for some reason, still carried a picture of her twelve-year-old self with the gap in her teeth and Charlotte could see why she had been bullied. She wasn't the best-looking kid, but she tried to cover up her negative reaction since she was trying to be supportive. "Okay..."

"And then, one of the girls pointed at me and she said..." The older teen bit her tongue at the thought of divulging her deepest, darkest secret, but Charlotte knew they'd come too far to stop now. It was like she'd said, this was a safe space. "You can tell me."

"She said, look! It's Bysh! The toothless doofus! And then-and then, everybody started laughing and Cherise, she just laughed along with the rest of 'em. That's when I knew...if you cab's count on your best friend, you can't count on anybody. Since then, I've never had a friend." Bysh looked down, ashamed at the person she'd turned out to be and both Jasper and Charlotte couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He patted her head with his free hand and the teen took a tentative step forward; Bysh wasn't a bad girl, she was just hurting badly and needed someone on her side, so that's what Charlotte would do. Be the one that was there for Byshell Bilsky.

"Bysh...look at me. I'll be your friend." She offered wholeheartedly, seeing that underneath the mean streak, she was probably a really nice, fun person.

"Nah, you're just saying that 'cause you don't want me to rip your head off your body." Bysh shook her head, thinking that this small sliver of human kindness was just a prank or meaningless, 'cause who would want to be friends with her? She beat people up for fun and terrorised the school, no one ever wanted to be with her.

"That's true, I don't want you to rip my head off my body, but...I also want to be your friend. Do you want that too?" She smiled and prayed that she wanted to accept the friendship, not just for her physical health, but for a better life. Once one person saw her as someone friendly, she'd have loads of friends, buckets of them and miraculously, Bysh was ready to start a new chapter in her life.

"Yes, please." She cried and jumped into Charlotte's arms, experiencing her first hug in years. It wasn't something the girl had expected to experience that day and Jasper swore he must've been dreaming, but this was real and it felt...good. Charlotte knew that violence wasn't the answer and by following her own advice, she'd successfully solved the problem with a fantastic ending. She'd made a new friend.

~ The girls exited the janitor's closet, ready to announce that the fight was cancelled and in the place of extreme violence was a strong, newfound friendship between the two of them. They smiled at each other excitedly and Piper was the first to notice as she looked up and saw that they'd emerged, probably for the entertainment to begin, or so she thought.

"There they are! All right, let's get it on!!" The little girl shouted, prompting the students around her to stop catering to their friends and cheer and shout instead. They'd paid ten dollars to come in, even if they weren't interested in the fight. They were gonna get their money's worth.

"No, no, no, sorry, guys, but the fight is not happening," Charlotte yelled over the noise, causing everyone to stop all the noise as they heard the news. Yeah, well, that was just puny Charlotte saying it, they needed to hear from the bully too, she'd promised them gore and violence.

"There will not be blood," Bysh confirmed, making them all gasp in horror and disappointment as they wondered what the hell had happened in that closest. How had Charlotte managed to save her skin? And what were they supposed to watch now that they'd spent ten dollars and they had no fight to enjoy?

"Wait, there's not gonna be a fight?" Some girl in the crowd asked, and the two, new friend shook their heads, disgusting her even more at how chummy they appeared. Well, this was just great, they'd come in early for the brawl in the hall and now, these two weren't delivering what had been promised. It just wasn't fair. "'Fraid not."

"NO REFUNDS!" Piper screamed, screwing her jar of money shut and legged it with her muscly bodyguard in tow. The students were mortified at how quickly she scarpered and chased after her through the doors as she ran to the getaway car she'd parked outside. Her number one rule was never giving someone their money back and she was sure she could outrun some nerds on skateboards.

Charlotte and Bysh smirked at each other, wondering how they'd managed to draw such eagerness for just one dumb misunderstanding, but before they could walk to class, another huge surprise calm through the school's entrance. In walked, Kid Danger, Captain Man and Miss Danger, fully clad in uniform, ready to sort Bysh out before she could hurt their friend. Oh god, the news couldn't spread that quickly and in a very hasty plan that (y/n) definitely didn't agree with, they may or may not have done something bad, terrible, possibly evil.

"All right, we're here," Henry announced, looking around the corridor to assess the situation. Huh, it was a bit quieter than he was expecting after all the hype, but no matter, he had eyes on the girl he wanted to lock up.

"Everybody freeze and don't move." Ray ordered the mesmerised students who'd actually stayed for their first classes, but Henry picked up on his little, redundant word problem and couldn't help but let out the "sass".

"What? That's the same thing. Freeze and don't move, it's the same thing!"

"See, that's the kind of sass I'm talking about." Ray sneered, getting all grumpy again at how Henry picked up on every little mistake he made, but luckily, there was a sweet girl on hand to keep the peace.

"All right, girls, not now, you're embarrassing me. You can argue and fight over your dollies later." She scolded them in a loud, condescending tone that told them she thought they were acting like spoiled children and it was a good thing that they zipped their lips when she wanted them to, 'cause that's when Charlotte came over, wondering what the hell they were doing there.

"Hi, Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger. What brings you here when it seems like you don't even need to be here?" She asked them in a tight, forced-polite voice, trying to pretend that she was surprised, honoured and friendly with the superheroes, even though it was clear that her friends thought she couldn't handle things by herself. Assholes.

"I'll tell you what brings us here," Ray announced, looking around at all the kids that were admiring him in all his superhero awesomeness and in his self-absorbed little moment, he couldn't see how his sweet girl was actually very, very nervous. In her defence, she'd never wanted to be a part of this, yes, she wanted to solve the Bysh problem because she thought Charlotte would never be able to stand and fight, but she'd never meant to do something so wrong, so unlike her. Honestly, sometimes Ray was a bad influence.

"A bank robbery. Yeah, it happened in the middle of the night." Henry started, catching everyone's attention as they heard about Captain Man and his sidekick's exploits. It was just so exciting, although, for Bysh and Charlotte, it was about to go downhill real fast.

"Oh, god, please forgive me." (y/n) muttered, making Ray place a hand on her hip, bringing him to her side like it would make her feel any better. It did a bit, being with him always brightened her darkest days, but she felt so guilty and mean, and if she had a time machine, she'd probably go back and tell herself not to go through with it.

"Fortunately, thanks to my very clever and hot girlfriend, Miss Danger, we were able to track the stolen cash to this very school." Ray went on, making his girlfriend blush as two cops ran in, ready to back their superhero all the way after he called them in for backup. Did she deserve compliments after what they'd done last night? She didn't feel clever, clever people don't bully bullies, because then they become just as bad.

"Hey, guys, we got your call." One of the police officers panted, not being used to getting off his ass and doing some actual police work. The Swellview Police weren't known for being effective, more like pure shit.

"Thank you for coming, officers." (y/n) nodded slowly, wondering if it would be best to just call the whole thing off and say it was just a false alarm, but Henry jumped in first.

"Uh, yes, officers, I think you'll find the stolen cash over there in locker fifty-three." The boy told them, catching Bysh's attention. Hold on, that couldn't be right, there had to be some mistake, she'd done nothing wrong, had they read that wrong?

"Fifty-three? That's my locker." She told them and Charlotte clenched her teeth as she got the picture. Those dirty, low-down, poor excuses for superheroes, wasn't this against their moral codes or whatever? Had they set Bysh up? (y/n) was too nice for that, Charlotte couldn't believe that she'd stoop so low and be so cruel to an innocent person, even if she thought they were bad news. The cops swaggered over to the suspicious locker and it gave the teen a chance to shove her moronic friends to the side corridor where she could verbally kill them without any suspicions being raised and holy fuck, was she fuming.

"Okay, why are you guys here?" She demanded to know, already getting the gist of the truth but she wanted to hear it from their lips before she jumped to conclusions. She had really thought better of them, what was that Bysh said about not being able to rely on anyone?

"To help you," Henry replied, thinking that they were still the good guys in all of this, despite being moments away from making the biggest fuck-up known to humankind. It had been done with the best of intentions, but sometimes help just hinders and in this case, it had crippled what was previously perfectly sweet.

"But I told you I didn't want your help." She growled, her breathing growing laboured as Ray chuckled at how she assumed she could just solve the fight without them, the fighting masters. Yeah, (y/n) had said not to go mental when thinking of a plan, but it would work, Bysh would go away and Charlotte would be free to walk around school without fear of being jumped, not that that was the case anymore. "Well, uh, you got it!"

"You're gonna love what we did!" Henry laughed too and the four of them peered around the corner to see one of the officers prising Bysh's locker open with a crowbar and thumping his fist against the metal. Okay, this wasn't funny, it seemed deadly serious and she wanted the truth, now. "What did you guys do?"

"Oh...Charlotte, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to do it, but they said it was the only way to help you and I didn't want you to get hurt so we...robbed the Swellview Bank." (y/n) caved, practically getting on her knees for the girl's forgiveness as the boys kept giggling like hyenas and Charlotte gazed at them all in horror. They...did...what? What were they thinking?

"Why? (y/n/n), you're supposed to be the nice one!" She snapped, looking mortified as a terrible feeling dawned on her. What had they done to her, to Bysh, to themselves?

"So we could get a big bag of cash." "And then, last night, at four AM, we snuck in here..." "And put the big bag of cash in Bysh's locker." "Then we called the cops!" "Which is why they're here!" Henry and Ray explained in turn and with each part of the story that unfolded, (y/n) grew more and more ashamed. When she heard it out loud, it sounded worse and worse until the guilt was killing her. It was a stupid, stupid mistake.

"Wha—you framed Bysh?!" Charlotte spluttered, fearing for her new friend's freedom as the cops got closer to bringing down her locker's door. Who needs friends when you've got these idiots on your side? She'd done everything perfectly, sorted Bysh's emotional problems out, her friendship problems, her bullying problems, made even her criminal ones, but now they'd undone all of that, just because they thought they could do the job better. Where was the trust? "Yeah!"

"So now, she'll get arrested..." "And you won't have to fight her." Henry and Ray or dumb and dumber told her, thinking that it was another case solved, but she hadn't reached the part where she told them that she was ten times smarter than them and hadn't needed their fucking lousy help.

"But I fixed it so I don't have to fight her. I talked to her and now, we're friends!" She hissed, making their stomachs plummet to the ground as a bad situation got even worse. If (y/n) felt bad before locking up a bully, she felt awful now she knew they'd framed someone genuinely nice; she wasn't going to sleep tonight.

"Holy shit, Charlotte, I'm so proud of you for being so much smarter than us and for doing the right thing. We—we weren't thinking and now, it's too late." She mumbled, peeking around the corner just in time to watch the cops busting open the locker and finding the bag of cash right where they'd stashed it. This wasn't their finest moment, probably their shittest.

"There it is! You messed up this time, Byshell!" One of the cops growled at her as his partner pulled out wads of the stolen loot, confirming that all suspicion was on her. Ray and Henry, the ones who'd grabbed the sack, had worn gloves, so they were covered, Bysh, sadly, was not.

"But I didn't put that in there!" The poor girl argued, terrified for what the judge would say this time. They'd throw the damn key away this time, for something she hadn't done and knowing her reputation, she'd never be proven innocent.

"Oh, you're just holding it for a friend?" A cop mocked her before the other forced her hands behind her back to slap the cuffs on her wrist, ignoring her pleas of innocence and squirms to get free. Damn, this was a mess; Bysh tried to bend the man's hand back to get him away from her, but he just fought back and she knew it was over.

"You're in big trouble!" "Come on, let's go!" The hissed at her, marching her across the hall as her fellow students watched in shock and to be honest, Charlotte felt a bit teary. She was her friend, so her screams were heartbreaking and if she could help or be for her in any way, she would be.

"But I didn't do anything! I've never seen that money before! Charlotte, Charlotte! Get me a lawyer!" She cried as she left the building and Charlotte couldn't help but call after her to give her some support.

"I'm sorry! I'll come to the police station after my algebra two test!" She shouted, feeling like someone had ripped out her heart and trodden on it, and she knew exactly who to direct her glare at. Ray, Henry and (y/n) shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, the boys thinking that there was nothing they could do, but maybe there was one thing...

"Give me your credit card." (y/n) told Ray, looking up at him with her hand out and determined eyes. It was probably stupid and she'd already been horrible at this point, but if she could right her wrong then she was gonna do it, no matter what the cost was.

"What? Why?" He frowned, Henry and Charlotte looking at her weirdly too as he dug into his deep back pocket to bring out his emergency, Captain Man card that he kept to pay for the important things he needed on missions, like ice cream or waffles. Did she want to go shopping? He couldn't think of why she'd want it, after all, she looked like she was gonna cry.

"'Cause I'm gonna tell Charlotte's teacher that she has an emergency doctors appointment and then, we're gonna go down to the Police station and I'm gonna post Bysh's bail." She answered, pocketing the piece of plastic before he could stop her. Normally, what was his was hers and vice versa and he never minded her using it, but why would she want to spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on one girl she'd never met but knew the terrible reputation of?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're gonna do what?" His mouth hit the floor and tried to swipe for his card again, but she just grasped his arm gently and held it close to her chest, letting him look into her tear-filled eyes. Shit, she really was upset and that melted his reluctance to let her have it. He hated it when she cried and something told him that this was important to her.

"We did this and the least we can do is pay for Bysh's bail. I can pay you back if you want, but I don't have any cash on me or anything so I just need to borrow—" She started explaining, not wanting to ramble on and on 'cause that made her sad, but it was his money she was about to spend and even if he'd get it back after a quick bank transfer, he deserved to know.

"Sweet girl, you don't have to pay me back, I've got you. You sure you want to do this, though? That girl, she's...not the best person out there." He said as gently as she could and even though she wanted to bite his head off for being judgemental without getting to know her, Charlotte stayed quiet for fear of ruining whatever chance she had of helping her new friend. Screw that test, friendship was more important.

"If Charlotte trusts her, then so do I, 'cause I won't be able to sleep tonight knowing Bysh's wrongfully in a jail cell." She whispered, feeling the teen girl pick up her hand and squeeze in thanks as she felt the trust return. Yeah, she'd made a mistake, but she wanted to fix it and that was good enough for her. Ray too.

"Then go, sweet girl. I'll meet you back at the Man Cave." He whispered, leaning down to peck her lips as Charlotte checked if the coast was clear. There was no time like the present and if they left now, then it meant Bysh would spend less time in a cell, which sounded good to them.

"'Kay. I'll see you later, I love you." She smiled shyly, kissing his cheek one last time before she was pulled away by an eager Charlotte, who was fuelled by the knowledge that they had the funds to free her friend. It was nice having well-paid grown-ups as friends, even if two of them were a bit dumb sometimes.

"I love you too!...Always," Ray mumbled the last part, chuckling when he saw the woman turn around and grin at the last part like it was their own little secret. Their love would never end and by the dreamy look on Ray's face, Henry didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking about.

"You can't wait to marry her, huh?" He commented, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder as he watched the girls circle the building and leave their sight. He was happy for him, glad to know that for every stupid idea Ray had, (y/n) would be there to sort it out and for every worry she had, he'd be there to calm her down. They just went together like jelly and peanut butter, rhubarb and custard, one doofus and a sweet girl.

"I'd marry her tomorrow if she said yes."

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