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#relieved she’s okay for now but having to grapple with the fact that this is how they will treat me when it is her time is something
raeathnos · 2 months
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#yall I finally got some good fucking news#my grandma’s been in the hospital and was doing very bad and like#we thought the end was near#she improved and got discharged#things still aren’t great but it’s (hopefully) looking more like she has weeks or maybe even months rather than just a handful of days#she’s almost 92 and has late stage Alzheimer’s and the flu is what put her in the hospital but she beat it#yesterday was very stressful#my parents/uncles were all being incredibly vague and my cousins were reaching out for info from me since I’m the only local grandchild#trying to figure out if people several hours away need to drop everything and try to make it here to say goodbye while at work was uh#it was something#I had an emotional break down in the bathroom which was fun#my parents who normally use me as a punching bad were doing it to an even more extreme degree#they still are technically; I get it’s my dad’s mom and he’s hurting more but she’s my grandma and like#the whole way they’ve been treating is just… it broke something in me#relieved she’s okay for now but having to grapple with the fact that this is how they will treat me when it is her time is something#I am an frazzled emotional wreck from everything but she’s okay and that’s what matters in the end#I also had a video interview this afternoon which like#absolutely wild state of mind to be in to do an interview but it’s with a really good company so I didn’t want to cancel#guys#I got a second in person interview!#it pays good and it’s close by and the only thing I don’t like is that it’s second shift#but they said if I get the job I’ll eventually get the opportunity to switch to first shift so like#fingers crossed the next interview goes well#anyways all good news except for my parents being fucking assholes but#I am out of energy emotionally mentally and physically#was trying to keep myself together till the interview and now that it’s over I’m just very done#my anxiety is shot my brain’s checked out and all I wanna do is sleep#I was supposed to be off tomorrow but work called me in and I took the shift cause I need money#I think there is a very good chance that I crash very hard after work tomorrow#which fine
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cas-backwards-tie · 1 year
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Chapter Two: The Hostage
Just Like Me
Masterlist | Previous Chapter
Five Hargreeves x Sparrow!Samantha
Summary: Going after the Umbrellas, you're more than surprised at the situation you've gotten yourself into. Everything is apparently not as it seems. The only question is... what do they want with you?
Warnings: Cursing, Injuries, Violence, Fighting, Name-Calling, Insults, Kidnapping, Manhandling, Threats, Degradation
Words: 8.3k
A/N: As much as I wanted to finish the first episode in this chapter, I think it'd be way too long, so I wound up ending somewhere I thought would be a good place to do so. The next chapter will definitely finish the first episode, at least, and explain a lot more of the OC (reader).
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Having fled from the house after the Umbrella Academy, you manage to see where they’re going, but wind up slowing your pace as you find yourself more winded than usual. Probably from getting kicked in the ribs by that kid. Though there’s also a possibility it’s from the slow recovery you’ve been making since… the Incident. The past few months have been nothing but trying to grapple at any sort of semblance you could retain after having your whole life flipped upside down and inside out. Walking, you rub at your ribs through the white button-up underneath your blazer. 
While you’d seen them going toward the park, finding them now that you’ve fallen behind is another challenge. Even if they’ll stand out, dressed like weirdos and all, you don’t spot them instantly. You find yourself strolling through the park, glad that at the least it’s a nice day. The sun is out and shining, there’s a slight breeze, and it isn’t too cool.
“You okay?” A familiar voice speaks. It’s him! The big one… Luther, right? Hazel eyes darting across the pond to where a group of oddly clothed individuals sit, one approaches holding their ribs. It’s them, alright. Ducking behind the lined patch of bushes before you, being stealthy is the only option. Listening to their conversation, it’s clear as day considering this part of the park is fairly empty. After all, it’s only early afternoon on a Friday–most people are either working or at school. While you’re across the water from them and a good handful of yards away, you manage to crawl behind the bushes and squirm behind the trees as you attempt to get closer to them.
“Apparently, so is Ben,” it’s the Cowboy Dude who speaks, sounding somewhat relieved.
“Yeah, and he’s a complete dickhead,” now that’s Cape-Girl. The casual tone in her voice almost elicits a chuckle, but your hand quickly covers your mouth in fear of any noise escaping. Nevertheless, an amused smile sits on your lips. She couldn’t be more right.
“They’re all dickheads-” it’s the Shaggy-Man. The accusation causes your expression to shift into one of surprise and offense, your movement momentarily stopping as you try not to get angry at the insult. With a deep breath, you continue to slowly round the pond and remain undetected behind the greenery.
“Yeah, dickheads who can fight!” Luther combats his words. This elicits a feeling of pride in your chest, as at least that much is true. Though you’re not as skilled considering you’ve had a lack of training due to the Incident, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you can still manage your way through hand-to-hand combat, albeit not your specialty. He’s certainly right about the rest of your family, however.
“Okay, next person to say ‘dickhead’ is getting a punch to the throat.” It’s the kid, which ultimately takes you by surprise considering most teenage boys you know are all idiots who love nothing more than to curse, talk crudely, and cause chaos wherever they go.
“Dickhead-” one person rings off, “-Dickhead-” another, “-Dickhead,” they all utter from what you’re able to tell. Lips forming another amused smile, your brows furrow a bit. Is this what they’re really like? It’s relieving, to say the least. Maybe they aren’t so bad, then? Just in the wrong place at the wrong time, perhaps.
Finally approaching a huge patch of bamboo and greenery, you’re able to stand and eavesdrop from behind the biggest and thickest greenery near the pond. Front as close to the plants as can be without stepping over the rocks lining the garden bed, you pretend to inspect and read the little silver plaque detailing the plants before you to seem inconspicuous. With a displeased look upon your face, you dust off the dirt and mulch chips still sticking to your outfit.
“Hey, did Dad tell you why he was calling them his kids?” Shaggy-Man again, finally asking something useful. This might lead to more answers surrounding your untiring list of questions.
“He sure did! You ready? Dad was so repulsed by us back in Texas, that he adopted an entirely different group of children just so he didn’t have to raise us.” Cowboy Dude this time. Though he seemed aloof from the short encounter you’d had, he seems to have more information than he lets on… a front, perhaps?
“That’s just peak Dad, huh?” the Shaggy Man responds.
“Isn’t it?” Luther responds, a hint of incredulity in his voice.
“So he just didn’t want us anymore?” This voice you don’t recognize, so you lean to your left a little in order to peek just slightly from the greenery. It’s the thin woman who’d been holding her ribs that’d made Luther call out. Returning to your previous position in order not to get caught, you resume relying on your ears.
“Did he ever?” Cape-Woman asks.
“See? I told you we shouldn’t have asked him for help in sixty-three,” Luther argues. This bit of information causes your eyebrows to furrow for a moment before raising at the implications of this. Leaning back out from behind the greenery a bit, you watch as they start to lean into the conversation, everyone seeming to get serious now. Perfect, they’ll spill something here, you can tell.
“I think you’re all missing the big picture here…” as he looks around at his accomplices, you eagerly wait for the kid to drop whatever bomb he’s about to unload. “Hold that thought,” he states before disappearing in a small flash of blue light. All of them look around, calling out the number ‘five’ which seems utterly random if not weird, and conspiratory in some disturbing way. Is it a code? A signal of some sort?
“Did you really think you’d be able to sneak up on us?” With a gasp and quick spin, you find yourself face to face with that same boy. “What? Almost killing my brother and sister wasn’t good enough for you,” he accuses. 
“No- no, I just, I came to help!” You admit, hands raising into one of surrender. As he steps closer, slowly closing the few feet that separate you, you can see the anger in his irises. “I didn’t- I don’t want-” In a sudden move he kicks you in the chest again, hands nonchalantly in his pockets as if it were effortless. 
Everyone’s attention draws over to the sound of Five’s voice. It isn’t far, and they only have a second to react before they spot the upper half of a young girl lying on the cement. Red jacket, brown hair, isn’t that…
“They followed us here?!” Diego cries out incredulously, retrieving a knife from his vest. Klaus watches intensely along with the rest of his siblings, unsure of where this is going. Diego makes as if to get up and head over there. 
With a swift step, kid’s got a dress shoe crushing your ribs and pinning you down. Though it isn’t enough weight to keep you from getting out of this position, you let him think he’s got the upper hand. You’re not looking for a fight, you’re looking for answers. Unfortunately, under pressure, while you might be able to act, you find your words escaping you. “I don’t want to fight,” you argue, voice coming out louder and more panicked than you’d meant for it.
“Should’ve thought about that before you punched me and let that spit-freak kick me down the stairs! What’s your plan, huh? Tell them where we are, send in the calvary?” As he eyes you up and down, you don’t fail to notice the shadow of someone approaching from where they’d all been sat.
“I had to! You don’t-” you debate the personal level of it, yet it comes blurting out anyway, “-understand! I didn’t have a choice. I just want the truth!” Your breathing starts to become more uneasy now with the weight of his foot getting heavier and heavier as he towers over you, leaning his weight further into his foot with each passing second and your weak excuses. “Father-” you pant, “I don’t trust him, he’s-” you try to catch your breath. Hands coming up to wrap around his ankle for some semblance of control, and a weak attempt to push it off you, “-there’s something not right.”
“Move,” you hear the Shaggy-Man tell the teenage boy. Head turning to look at him you watch him wave his knife dismissively.
“You don’t tell me what to do, imbecile,” the teenager spits, unmoving. “You’re not killing her,” he demands.
“She’s the enemy, Five! She tried to kill me, and now she’s spying on us like some real-life Spy Kid? She’ll tell them where we are and have them come after us!” With a shove at the teenager, the Shaggy-Man grabs your blazer and ungracefully pulls you to your feet. Before you can slip out of your jacket and backpack, he wraps an arm around your waist like a vice and places the knife to your throat. Eyes going wide, you can’t see the man, but you can hear the venom in his voice. “What’s to say they aren’t already here? Waiting for the signal? At least we can get one out of the picture, send a message.”
“She’s leverage, idiot,” the teenage boy retorts with a holier-than-thou attitude that scarily reminds you of Father. “Plus she clearly can’t fight,” he points out with a huff of laughter, hands returning to his pockets as he strolls back to the picnic tables.
“Please, I-” you beg, the knife’s sharp blade pricking at your throat. Tempted to use your abilities, you also don’t want to risk hurting them if it’s not necessary. While the man who’s got you in a hold seems aggressive, you’ve seen the way he’s capitulated to the others.
“Shut it. You don’t get an opinion in this,” he warns. Removing the knife, he instead places it at the small of your back beneath the backpack. “Why do you even have this? Little girl goes to school somewhere other than the Academy?” A wry chuckle escapes him and it’s the only opportunity you need to slip from the jacket and backpack, donkey kick him in the groin, and dart. Running straight into their little circle, you’re not afraid to retaliate if need be. At this point, it’s getting dicey and you won’t let yourself be caught again. “Bitch!”
The groan of pain catches everyone’s attention where they’d previously come back to the boy. On the opposite side of the picnic area, you put your hands up, readying yourself to fight if they try anything. Shaggy-Hair throws his knife at you, only for you to evade it with a displeased look on your features.
“Woah, woah! Okay. Everyone needs to stop!” The thin woman shouts as she stands on wobbly feet and puts her hands out. “Are they here? Did you come for us?” She sends her questions toward you with a threat unhidden in her tone.
“No! I came alone. I’m not-”
“-with them, I knew it!” The Cape-Woman cuts you off before you can finish. “She’s just a kid dressing up like them. Remember when kids would do that on Halloween?” All of them look at her with recognition and a sense of belief. Eyebrows furrowed in anger and exasperation, you let go of your defensive stance and lean into one hip. “I didn’t see her do anything back at the house, so…”
“Do you actually want to know, or are you just gonna guess and leave it at that?” You retort.
“I bet she doesn’t even have any powers!” Shaggy-Hair accuses with a wry laugh. 
“Dad said they’re his children,” Cowboy Dude argues with a shrug.
“She’s just another Vanya,” Shaggy-Hair adds, a saddened tone to his words for some reason. Eliciting a profound ‘ah’ from some, you’re unamused and don’t address what he’d said, instead responding to the Cowboy Dude.
“Adopted, technically, but yes, we are. My family is-”
“-But you’re… a teenage girl,” Luther cuts you off, hands holding his head as he looks at you with a perplexed look on his face.
“-yes! God! Look, just because I look like a teenager doesn’t mean I am, okay?! Besides, if you’re arguing you all are really in your sixties then that’s a bunch of baloney, too! Anyway,” you hastily tug at the button of your cuffs on your button-up, undoing them and pushing your sleeves up as you’re now sweaty and hot. “It’s A, none of your business, and B, I only came to get answers! Okay? My family might have a tendency to overreact and always go to fighting as their first strategy but I’m not like them, alright?!” With your argument out of the way and your reasoning out in the open, you cross your arms and wait for some sort of response.
“So you’re like Five, then?” The thin woman asks, turning to face you a little more as she sits on the long bench connected to the cement wall.
Eyes searching all of theirs you’re confused. However, you clench your jaw momentarily before answering. “Um… obviously not? I’m at least, like… sixteen, seventeen body-wise, mentally and emotionally, I’m, well… thirty-one. Or I will be, in October,” you mutter the last part to yourself, feeling more than a little scrutinized and offended with everyone’s eyes on you.
“Our brother! Five,” Cowboy Dude announces, eyes and head tilting toward his right where the teenager sits propped up on the picnic table. “Ooh, time-traveling incident, too?” He adds on, intrigued as he sets his elbows on his knees and leans in.
“Uh- no. We don’t talk about it,” you respond after a moment of silence, finally looking from his intrigued eyes up toward the ones staring intensely from up on the table. “Five? That’s a name?”
“Oh, and you have one so much better, I suppose,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Look, I don’t care why you’re here or what you think you need to know. The big picture is,” he turns to his family, purposefully excluding you as his voice takes on a quieter tone. “If Dad didn’t adopt us as kids, he changed the timeline. So who knows what else is different now.” 
“Shouldn’t you know?” Cape-Woman asks with a quirked brow.
“Sorry, Allison-” okay, Allison is her name, “-but it might take me more than twenty minutes and a traumatic brain injury to figure this all out. Is that okay with you?”
“No, actually, it’s not,” she comments, clearly upset, “we just got here when all we wanted was to go home to our families, and now someone’s out there trying to kill us. Again.” The last part you know was pointed at you and your family. Which is fair, in all points, except you know your siblings don’t really consider you a part of the team in any way, and they’re most likely plotting some sort of revenge as of this moment in time.
“Guys, look, it’s fine. We still have the Commission’s briefcase, so worst case, we can just go back in time and fix it,” the thin woman explains. She sits back into the bench looking relaxed, despite Allison, as you now know, and the Shaggy-Man still staring daggers at you from across their little circle.
“Great,” Cowboy Dude comments, clapping his hands together.
“Okay. There are two problems with that statement. First off-” the teenage boy stands from his seat at the picnic table.
“Here we go,” Cowboy Dude announces with a displeased tone.
“-time travel is complicated, people,” the boy continues despite the comments.
“Yeah, we get it. Your job is SO hard. Just… what?” Shaggy-Man adds in, clearly fed up with the situation. Silently listening, you try to process and piece together the puzzle with all the new information. So… time travel is his ability? This… ‘Five’ character?
“-And secondly… I no longer have the briefcase.” With a small shrug of his shoulders and the looks on the other people’s faces, you can tell that whatever is in this briefcase is a big deal.
“Five, where the hell is the briefcase?” Allison asks obviously concerned.
After a few minutes of arguing, you slip past them and grab your blazer off the ground, dusting it off before putting it back on, along with your backpack. Standing at the edge of the circle, you cross your arms over your chest. They time-traveled here. But that’s supposed to be impossible. But… Dad must’ve known. Did he? He wasn’t fazed by them, or their appearances. He had to have known. There’s no way he didn’t. Five definitely can time travel. Luther is super strong, it looks like. Don’t know about the others. What does changing the timeline look like? Are they gonna cause a catastrophe by messing with time? What is this ‘Commission’ they mentioned? This is some Back to the Future type shit. Ughhh..h…. 
“It’s the obvious choice! They realize she’s gone, they bring the briefcase in exchange for her… alive,” Shaggy-Man argues. At the mention of you, and your life, your attention comes back to reality.
“Except they won’t realize I’m missing?” You butt in. Shifting your backpack on your shoulders uncomfortably.
“What do you mean, you’re the baby of the family, right? Won’t they notice you’re gone right away?” Allison questions, obliviously baffled by the statement.
“It’s… complicated. They don’t really include me considering-” looking up at their faces from where you’d been staring down at your shoes, you remember who you’re speaking with. “-well, events… they don’t really bother. I haven’t been a part of the team for quite some time, so most likely they’ll only notice, well… Marcus might notice I’m gone if I don’t come home tonight. I don’t know, we’ll see, I guess, if that’s your plan.”
“What, you have a better one, Princess?” Again, the Shaggy-Haired man provokes, eyeing you with distaste. 
That’s how you’d wound up here. Walking with the Umbrella Academy through the park, you’re forced to stand between Allison and that Five kid, all of the other people you’ve learned are their other siblings trailing behind. With no way to slip out from behind them, and of course the teleporting teenager able to stop you if you run ahead, you’re… essentially stuck. For now.
“What are we doing?” Allison asks frustratedly, looking across you over at Five.
“Ruminating,” he replies nonchalantly, hands still in his pockets and a non-blaise look upon his face as he strolls along beside you. Hands wrapped around your backpack’s straps, you let out a quiet tired sigh. Unsure what to say, you remain quiet, gears continually turning as you try to think of some way to either get your answers and go, or escape. Though having had some time, and thought, you also aren’t opposed to sticking around for a little now that no one’s threatened you with violence in the past fifteen minutes.
“So you’re trying to go back in time?” You finally ask, posing a question that isn’t too prodding, you hope. 
“Yes.”
“No.”
It would seem the answers are divided among the group. Yet, Five looks behind him at his siblings with incredulity before shaking his head slightly. “No, we’re not. Though this is the correct timeline and date, it seems that there have been a few changes to the timeline. Going back would only cause further damage and change more things in the present.”
“Yeah,” you respond quietly. “I’ve seen Back to the Future enough times,” you comment. There's a hint of joking, considering you’re sure the actual thing is far more complicated than simply setting a machine’s date into place and driving at a certain speed to provoke such a grandiose event. 
“It’s much more complicated than a science-fiction movie made for simpletons,” Five curses, eyes shifting over to yours with a domineering look in them.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Cowboy Dude, who you’ve learned is named Klaus, asks.
“Because we look like the damn village people just lost a fight,” Shaggy-Hair, aka, Diego, announces. This elicits a small chuckle from you as you flip your hair over your shoulders, embracing the warm sunlight the world offers today.
Though your ribs still have a dull ache to them, overall, there’s nothing inherently wrong with the way today has gone. It’s been far more exciting than what a normal day at the Sparrow Academy would entail for you. Routine simply: getting up, joining your family for breakfast, going to school, coming home, doing homework, working out, dinner, sleep, and then repeat.
Even if you’re technically playing hostage at the moment, you know that if worse comes to worst, you can whip out your power and eliminate the threat. Not that you really want to, considering you’re done being a killer. While you’d once been a prized member of the team and maybe even considered Dad’s Number One, you certainly are done with that regiment.
“Gimme that! Hey!” Klaus yells, the sound of smacking and some sort of kerfuffle going on behind you would be worrisome if it wasn’t for learning that they’re all siblings. Like Jayme and Alphonso or Ben and Fei, it seems that family skirmishes aren’t a sole quality of the Sparrows.
“Ow!” 
A quick glance over your shoulder leaves your hazel eyes met with a playful look in Klaus’ green orbs. With a wink in your direction, he snatches back his cowboy hat from Diego, straightening himself and dusting off.
“Okay, you know what? I need to go find Claire,” Allison announces with an annoyed tone and dismissive wave of her hand. Watching her walk off you find yourself suddenly bumped into by someone, hands landing on Five’s jacket as you steady yourself. Five glares at you, which makes you glare at the responsible party: Klaus. 
“You guys, cut it out,” Five instructs. Brushing his jacket off where you’d touched him. Rude, you think to yourself. 
“Really?” You question the only member of this Umbrella Academy that you’d thought was actually decent up until now.
“What? He pushed me!” Klaus defends, looking over his shoulder at Diego.
“I will catch up with you guys later,” Allison adds over her shoulder.
“Hey, Allison, no,” Vanya–you finally learned her name–calls after her as she side-steps you, “-First, let’s just get somewhere safe, clean up those cuts, and then we’ll go find her.”
“Who’s Claire? Another sister?” You whisper, wondering if they’re hiding more family members up their sleeves. Maybe someone to help come back and attack the Academy, take it over? You still have no idea where their plan lies.
"Wouldn't you like to know-?" Diego taunts.
“Her daughter,” Klaus whispers back, hand flopping onto your shoulder as if it were a reassuring gesture.
"Hey, don’t tell her that! She’s a hostage,” Diego scolds as he slaps the back of Klaus’ head. Group coming to a halt a few feet from the fountain in front of you, everyone watches the sisters talk.
“Man, I hate those guys,” Luther grumbles. Attention drawn back to him, you follow his gaze up to the posters of your siblings and the almost threatening words that go across their portraits: ‘Crime is the problem. We are the solution.’ Of course, all of them adorned with your name: Sparrow Academy. Some, even with your insignia embellished on them. 
“Look at ‘em with their stupid… smug…”
“You can do it,” Klaus encourages, leaning in to whisper to his taller brother, “You can do it!”
“-s…s…smugness.” Luther cringes, Klaus sighs, you exchange a surprised look with Five, his expression unreadable as you look back at the two.
“Keep working on it, big guy. You’ll land one… eventually,” Klaus reassures.
“N-no offense,” Luther says upon meeting your gaze.
“None taken. Honestly, they’re… a bunch of assholes. For the most part,” you respond with a chuckle. Allison’s voice draws your attention again.
“But honestly, what are we doing? Because we can’t keep standing here bleeding out in this park.” You wonder the exact same thing.
“I don’t know, but we better gear up fast before they come for round two, alright?” Diego thinks aloud, eyes still glued to your sibling’s posters.
“What makes you think they’ll come after us?” Vanya questions, somewhat stupidly, though considering it seems they don’t know your family, it’s still a valid question. For any sane person, you suppose.
“Because I would,” Diego responds thoughtfully. While Allison looks concerned and some eyes fall to you, you simply shrug and give a look of agreement.
“Yeah, I mean we did break into their house…” Klaus agrees, a forlorn tone in his voice
“-our house,” Allison corrects.
An ambivalent sound leaves your throat as you stand there with hands clasped in front of you.
“Bust up all their nice antiques and shit,” Klaus expands with a gesticulative wave of his hand.
“Yeah. I don’t think the crime-fighting super nerds are gonna let that go,” Luther mutters.
“Better,” you comment with a chuckle and shrug. At least you know you’re not alone in the inability to be quick with your comebacks. “They’re probably plotting some sort of revenge as we speak. I wouldn’t stay out in the open much longer if I were you.” With Fei’s crows and Father’s surveillance, there’s no telling how easy it’ll be for your family to find this literal band of brothers. But it won’t be too hard considering they all seem to stand out in their very own, unique ways. 
“Let’s just…” Five gives you a distasteful look before clamping his hands over your ears. While you could listen to them talk muffledly or simply try to break free of his attempt at excluding information from you, there’s a more silent option. Unbeknownst to him, you use your powers, concentrating on the big hands that cover your ears, you try and redirect the water molecules away from his hands and back down his forearm. While it takes more concentration and leaves their conversation fading in and out, you’re able to make out the most of it, you think. “-Off the radar where we can lie low and not draw attention.”
“What kind of a weird ass place are we not gonna draw attention?” Diego comments. As all their eyes shift over to someone out of your view, you only get confirmation upon their words. 
“I know a place! It’s this old hotel that I used to go to whenever I’d need a place to lay low and you know,” Klaus jokes. “Pull one over on the old-geester-” While Five had been eyeing you with a set of stone-cold eyes and an unwavering air of distrust, he sends a glare at Klaus. “-Hotel Obsidian! It’s just a few blocks away,” he reveals. “Follow me!”
“Was that really necessary?” You ask Five as he removes his hands from your ears and stuffs them in his pockets, walking away from you after Klaus. Upon your question, he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and quirks a brow.
“Did you hear where we’re going?” 
“No,” you lie, putting on a brave face. You won’t let him give you any sort of reason to kill you, let alone throw you off the wagon of the bunch that’s heading to the hotel.
“Then yes, clearly necessary since, may I remind you, you’re still a hostage, and we wouldn’t want to have to bring you to them as a cold body, would we?” He asks, a testing air about his words, eyes keenly observing your expression as he waits for an answer.
Though amusement swirls in your chest at his unknowing double-entendre, you simply swallow your biting comments and walk toward him, then right past without looking back. While they’re still six on one, you aren’t too worried about having to defend yourself. Sure, if need be you can use your abilities, but you’d rather not have to kill if it’s not needed.
They all seem out of it, and admittedly, as finals approach with the end of the school year, so are you. School is hard enough to deal with, without fighting a group of scheming powered-up misfits on the run. Following Klaus, you walk behind Diego and beside Vanya. The itching, annoying, and gnawing feeling of Five’s eyes–you’re sure of it–glued to the back of your head throughout the short walk to the hotel is constant. And it’s definitely not Luther, that’s for sure. It partly drives you insane, continuously making you want to throw him back a glare or ask him what his problem is. Nevertheless, you won’t give him the benefit of any reaction; despite having known the boy for only a matter of perhaps a little over an hour, you know his type. Asshole of men always want some sort of reaction, a signal, a sign that they’re winning, that they’re getting to you and managing to get under your skin. That, at the be-all and end of all things… they’re right. Maybe he’s simply trying to figure you out, get a hint about your motives, or perhaps, deduce your next move. Unfortunately for him, where there’s a will, there’s a way… and you won’t let him succeed.
You’re surprised upon revelation with Klaus’ words, that, “We’re here!” The building looks plain in any sense, fitting-in, and resembling just another city building throughout the, well, city. It isn’t inconspicuous, yet isn’t as ostentatious or pretentious of a hideout as you’d been expecting for the lesser of normal ragtag group.
Surrounded by siblings, you’re kept ‘in line’ by the bigger of the group, of course, Five seemingly being the ringleader of this circus while Luther and Diego provide muscle. As you approach the revolving doors it takes you by surprise that you’re pushed into the small space. Diego and Klaus–having stepped back to make sure everyone files in–attempt to clamber into the tiny cubicle of doorway space instead of waiting for the next one. 
“Oh. Okay, honestly?” Allison comments, noises of dissatisfaction, annoyance, surprise, and frustration simultaneously emitting from everyone upon the brief confinement. “We don’t all need to be squeezed.”
“There were two entrances, by the way,” Five points out. With a sigh and inhalation of fresh air instead of the musty sweat-and-grime odor leftover from your fight this afternoon, you’re surprised when you look up to find the brutalist–art deco-styled interior. 
“Oh, Hotel Obsidian,” Klaus murmurs fondly, “I missed you, you slutty old dame.” 
Glad to no longer be within arm’s reach and under Five’s scrutinous eye, you bounce on the balls of your feet to readjust your backpack again. With a tug of your lapels and your uniform neat, your fingers aimlessly play with the hem of your blazer, unsure where things will go now.
“Absorb her. Absorb her into your bosom,” Klaus advises with a wave of his hands, “You know, cause back in her heyday, she played host to world leaders. Roosevelt-”
“Roosevelt?” You whisper the correct pronunciation under your breath as you quirk an eyebrow in his direction, unsure whether Klaus is secretly a genius, or a madman… or maybe both.
“-Gandhi, Stalin, Gorbachev, Castro, King Olaf of Norway, one of the Kim Jongs, Tito, Dalai Lama, Elvis, and not one, but two Kardashians, allegedly,” He recites as if giving a tour, the last tidbit a secret.
“Ooh! Which ones?” You ask curiously, eyes drawn back to him as they’d trailed off to take in all the sights during his list. 
“Supposedly Kylie and Kendell,” he whispers back, hand shielding this information as he leans in. With a tug of your lips downward and a raise of your brow, you process this. If any one of them were into the shadiest things it’d probably be them… or the oldest, or Khloe. Eyes traveling back up to the grandiose chandelier above your heads, you have hardly any time to admire the firefly-like bulbs placed randomly along each rung that spirals down with cascading drops of diamonds.
“That’s a lot of Communists for one hotel though,” you point out with a chuckle, eyes drawn back down at the movement from your peripheral vision. Allison walks past Klaus further into the hotel.
“Wouldn’t that- where are you going?” He asks.
“I gotta make a call,” she announces with haste as she urgently walks away. So much for information, you think. If you’d been her sister you would’ve made a bigger scene, yet no one makes any such move.
“Nowadays she’s just a flophouse, a party house for those of us not looking to be judged by society’s rules and norms,” Klaus finishes explaining. Though you wouldn’t question him, it’s a little quiet, in your mind, to be a drug den.
“You mean a place to hide?” Luther asks. Eyebrows furrowing in a manner that could only read as: ‘What else would it be, Captain Obvious?’ you don’t dare look at him with that expression. Instead, opting to wait with your hands clasped in front of yourself seems like the best next move. Observing the clientele, this establishment doesn’t exactly provide any more information considering everyone is either hushedly whispering to their partner and or looking away when you make eye contact, outright staring, or eyeing you with suspicion.
“Exactly! It’s perfect!” He points at Luther. “And the best part of it is, she’s gonna look after us, no questions asked. Never ever… right?” His voice draws down to a whisper as he looks around, almost as if he’s only now registering how out-of-place you all look. “Come on,” he beckons.
“I may have questions,” you hear Diego utter.
“Yeah, me too,” Luther agrees.
Following after Klaus, you wonder what their plan is, and what they aim for as their end goal. They were obviously divided on the time-travel subject. Whether they plan on taking back the Academy, you know that letting your sibling’s in on whatever lame attempt is up their pockets is… well, might be crucial… depending on circumstances.
“Isn’t it so cool? You know, I spent a night or two here, myself, quite a time back in my day,” Klaus mentions down to you before waving to someone sitting in the lounge.
“Yeah,” you comment half-heartedly, unsure why he’d need to stay here if the Academy was his home, “Do you know him?” This elicits a quiet laugh.
“No, but it never hurts to be friendly, right?” Klaus retorts, a goofy smile on his face. 
“True.”
“So what’s with the backpack? You never leave home without your get-out-of-town gear or something?” Klaus’ guess as to what’s in the bag this time elicits a genuine laugh from you. Though he’s way off basis, there are questions you don’t mind answering. While it’d be good to be cautious around these people, you’ve never been one for secrets. In fact, you’ve always been quite the open book.
“No! No,” you assure him, a chuckle still evident in your voice. “I just came back from school when I uh… walked in on you guys..." Though you aren’t sure how to explain what’d happened and aren’t keen on announcing you thought they were robbers at first, Klaus doesn’t make you struggle.
“Thinking we were home. Yeah… shit always goes haywire, doesn’t it? It’s time for a change of pace, anyway! Let’s get us some rooms, yeah? How many do we need?” With a swivel of his feet and a spin, Klaus sinks into one hip and starts silently mouthing as he counts how many people there are. 
“Don’t count her, she’s not staying,” Five asserts. With a curious look in his direction, you find your eyebrows and forehead creasing with tension. This time, to your surprise, a passive look sits upon his features before he cocks a brow as if to say: ‘What’s the problem? You thought otherwise?’ You’d imagine that’s what the smug little grunt would say anyway.
“Oh! Well, let me count again then,” he responds.
“This place is weird,” Vanya murmurs, still taking in everything in a way that you know too well. Maybe she’s hyperaware, you think to yourself, finally taking your eyes off of Five’s figure. Even with his back turned, he still held a sense of confidence that does anything to distill the brewing dread within you. They’re not going to kill me, he… just wants me to go home, that’s it, you try to reassure yourself mentally. Hazel eyes drifting back up at Klaus, you try to justify things. He wouldn’t let them kill me… right?
Rounding Diego you pass Luther to stand on Klaus’ right as he rings the little bell sat atop the sleek black counter. At the movement, you step closer to the counter, eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before they spring up in surprise. “A puppy!” You shout, voice coming out a bit too chipper and loud for your taste, though the last thing you’d been expecting was a pug sat in his fluffy little bed to be behind the counter. “He’s so calm,” you comment, “are you going to take our order?” Joking, you don’t miss how both Luther and Klaus chuckle at this.
“Imagine he takes the money,” Luther jokes, reaching out a bit as if he were going to give the dog cash.
“Chet! Mon frère,” Klaus greets with a smile, “It’s so great to see you. I’d like my usual suite, por favor.” 
You can’t stop a small smile from tugging at your lips upon the amusing mix of French, English, and Spanish in one sentence. The older man places his finger on the bell to stop its ringing. “I’ve never seen you before,” he comments. Rounding Klaus you place yourself between him and Luther as the ladder holds his hand out for the older pug to sniff, while Diego and you peer at him trying to get a better look.
“See? I told you. Discreet,” Klaus brags. Holding your hands out to let the pug sniff, it whimpers. You retreat, though Diego doesn’t. It must not be used to many people, you guess, considering the hotel isn’t buzzing like many of the other establishments along Central Park. The pug recoils a bit from Diego’s hand, and the older man side-steps in front of you three.
“Please stop scaring my dog,” he demands. Even if it was a request, his tone said otherwise as his piercing eyes meet each of yours for a second, sending a chill down your spine.
“Sorry,” you respond quietly, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you take a step back. Diego and Luther stand up straight, an air of attitude within them both.
“We need some rooms, please,” Vanya speaks up.
“Super,” the older man responds, stepping back in front of Klaus to resume his business. The pug starts to pant, his little tongue sticking out. Smiling down at the small creature, you can’t help but find him cute. While it was obviously forbidden when you were younger and Father was fully in charge, you wonder if you’d be able to get a dog of your own someday soon.
With a sign now placed on the counter that reads ‘Cash Up Front’ printed across yellowing paper. You can only assume it's from the smoke over the years, having witnessed multiple patrons smoking upon entrance. While you know they’ve only just supposedly got here from nineteen sixty-three, you’re sure that the group doesn’t appear homeless by any means. Especially you, and, begrudgingly you have to admit Five, as well.
“Oh…” It leaves Klaus’ lips.
“Ah,” Luther responds. As the brother in the cowboy hat on your right looks over in his direction, you can’t help but look either. Hey, you’re not staying… right? Not your problem. After all, even if you have means of payment with you… it’s not your responsibility. You don’t know these people, really. “Fine. Empty your pockets,” he commands his family. With a step back, you watch as they all rummage through their pockets. Once they all put their hands out, you can’t help but sneak a peek. “Come on. Something,” he grumbles.
Klaus holds at least five packets in both hands labeled ‘Valhalla Condoms’, which makes you squirm uncomfortably. Next is Diego who simply holds out a dagger faced toward himself, as if that’ll do anything. Not that condoms would either, though. Vanya holds out peppermints, and Five holds out… are those teeth? Your breath stops flowing, body tensing as you fumble to process that piece of information. 
“Condom? Can’t exchange that for cash,” Luther grumbles under his breath. “Put that knife away!” He groans as if that’s somehow worse than condoms. I mean, at least Klaus is getting some, you suppose. “Wait, why do I have a hairnet?” The giant speaks to himself as he pulls the said item out of his pocket. Everyone stares at Luther anticipatingly while Chet looks at each of the siblings, and then you, as well. The pug pants happily, observing something you’d personally find amusing if it weren’t also somewhat traumatizing as the objects probably speak to a deeper level upon each of the crazy people you’re currently playing the part of ‘hostage’ to.
“Oh!” Luther exclaims, a hopeful noise finally, “Alright.” You hear him fudging with some type of material, though you can’t see around Klaus or through Luther’s huge back.
“Ooh!” Klaus utters.
“What does this get us?” Luther hands something over to the manager. After a moment the old man walks toward the keys and you spot what it is: a watch. Really? You mentally laugh at the scenario. And the guy is willing to take this as payment in this day and age? Ridiculous. Klaus did mention this place was special, right? Well, he certainly didn’t seem to lie there. The man returns with two keys in his hands and places them on the counter. 
“Two rooms,” he announces. All for a watch? Must’ve been some fancy shit, then. Though you’re sure your money would’ve gone a much longer way. “Mazel tov.” 
“Alright,” Allison comments as you spot her pushing her way past Diego and Five to grab a key. Klaus takes the other. “Let’s Brady Bunch this bitch.”
The ladder gestures for you to walk ahead, so you politely nod and follow after the, well, bunch, as amusingly as she’d meant it. “Uh, meet back in the bar in two hours so we can make a plan,” Five announces.
Diego runs past everyone. “I have a plan!” He hops up the steps two at a time till he hits the landing and quickly turns. “We attack the Sparrows, and we take back our house,” Five and Allison continue up the steps despite Diego’s words, “and then we punch Dad a bit until he admits we’re better and he loves us more. Boom! Done! We’re wasting time,” he imparts, passion clearly there along with a penchant for violence.
Though you aren’t sure where you’re supposed to stand within that plan or Five’s considering it seems he intends to split up the group, you follow them into the elevator hesitantly. Something occurs to you that hadn’t before and all you can do is chuckle to yourself. What was it that Dad always said about ‘never going to a secondary location’? This is now going to be the third. Either you're being stupid, or reckless. Let's hope for the last.
“Relax. Don’t sweat it man,” Klaus places a hand on Diego’s shoulder as he passes, “Those shit birds are staying put for a while. I bet they’re as wiped as we are.” 
“Really?” Though Diego stares at Klaus, clearly baffled at the thought, his eyes flit to you for a moment, narrowing in suspicion before shifting back to his brother.
“Yeah. I mean, kicking our asses looked exhausting,” Klaus comments with a calm tone that you start to question. What if this is all some sick scheme to get you somewhere quiet and torture you? What if they’re trying to establish a Good Cop, Bad Cop scheme? A quiet sigh leaves your lips as your cheeks blow out, jaw tensing with the thought. Eyes shifting solely in your peripheral vision, you remember: six of them. Six on one. You don’t like the odds, but the powers are in your favor. 
You momentarily think he’ll capitulate, that he believes Klaus’ words. The look in his eyes says the contrary. Just as the elevator doors start to close, Diego sticks out his hand and makes it open again, eliciting a groan from somewhere in the back of the elevator. Back to Luther and two men on either of your other sides, you don’t like this. Diego steps closer, closing the space between you as he gets in, filling up the last spot in the elevator. “Yeah, well clearly not. Look at her,” his voice is quieter this time, no argument held in them. He’s simply stating facts.
This inevitably elicits a nervous chuckle from you, hand brushing Five’s jacket as you attempt to bring it up to rest on the back of your neck. “I… don’t really fight? I’m not much of a fighter,” you respond. “I tried to stay out of it,” you defend.
“Yeah, well maybe we’ll have to make up for that,” Diego whispers. It’s a threat. Hopefully not a promise, you think, heart beating a little more rapidly in your chest as you try to evade his angry stare.
“Come on, Diego,” Klaus groans.
“Well you can do that if you want, I’m gonna have to sit down for at least a few minutes,” Luther comments. The ding of the elevator causes you to internally jump. Is this when you should cry for help? Is there anyone even out there? Would anyone even help? No. You know this, too. It’s been tested many a time that civilians will almost always more often than not choose to surrender than fight any sort of power if it comes down to it. Especially now, with the Sparrows not being new anymore, you’re sure that the civilians have gotten used to letting someone else do all the work. Same concept as Uber and Doordash and all those other companies you’ve been getting up to speed on with the help of your siblings since returning from the Incident.
“This is our floor,” Klaus announces before slipping out the doors.
“Get out,” Allison encourages.
Luther pushes you accidentally a little as he attempts to maneuver around you, but a hand on your wrist stops that. Five grabs your wrist and drags you out with him. “She’s coming with us,” he announces coldly. 
“Um, alright?” Luther responds.
“Fine by me, you all have fun,” Allison retorts with a nonchalant sort of ambivalence.
“You’re… not gonna hurt her, right?” Vanya asks, sticking her head out of the elevator door. Allison attempts to pull her back as you whip your head around to look, an appreciation filing your chest as you hadn’t expected any of them to actually care, let alone vouch for you or your safety.
“Sister of mine, what sort of plan would that be?” Five chuckles. His breath close enough, you feel another chill go down your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your skin. The eerie tone of his voice which drips with sarcasm is… unappreciated, to say the least. Staring back at Vanya with a pleading look in your eyes, you watch as her vision shifts from you, to Five, to Luther, and back between you and the boy currently manhandling you. After a moment she pops her head back into the elevator and you finally lose the rest of whatever breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Never mind her, you can manage yourself.
It all happened so fast that you suppose it’d been longer than anticipated when Five pulls your wrist again, almost knocking your feet out from underneath you. Stumbling backward, you feel his other hand sit on your back in an attempt to stabilize you. While some part of you might have thanked him in any other circumstance, you only whip your head back around to meet his eyes again. 
A spitting noise escapes the kid and you realize you must’ve unintentionally whipped him with your hair. “Sorry,” you mutter without thinking. Once you realize it, you mentally cringe at yourself. Why on Earth should you apologize to him?! He’s planning on hurting you for all you know. Without another word, he searches your eyes for a split second before tugging you along down the hall after Klaus.
~~~~~~
forever taglist: @moonlightsolo ,@safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @ohdamnadam
jlm taglist: @your-shifting-gurl
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honeypiehotchner · 3 years
Text
intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter twenty-two
I’m liking this two updates a week schedule because I hate leaving you guys hanging like that!! I hope this chapter makes it all better xx.
Oh btw the title of this chapter and last chapter are lyrics from “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet! (Also I know the gif is irrelevant but the ~emotion~ of it is relevant)
ALSO (wow I have a lot I keep forgetting to add) I meant to @ her last chapter, but all of these medical scenes and things were 100% done with the help of @thedumpsterqueen​ because I know next to nothing about all this stuff and she was an angel and let me ask all the crazy questions <333 (P.S. she has a Hotch fic called Standards of Performance on her blog that you guys should alllll read if you haven’t already!! It’s SO good it’s one of my favorites)
Warnings: angst and sadness, but that’s pretty much it
Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist
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Chapter Twenty-Two: I can’t imagine a world with you gone
Everything is a blur in Hotch’s mind before and after the first gunshot rings through the air. He didn’t need to hear the buzzing in his ear to know it had hit you.
He took off at a sprint, as did the rest of the team.
His ears are ringing. His thoughts are racing. He’s never been a man who talks frequently to God, but he’s praying. Hoping you’re alive. Begging you to not be dead.
Aaron would never forgive himself if you died. As it stands, though, he won’t ever forgive himself for this.
Prentiss, Reid, and Rossi take off in one direction. Hotch and Morgan take the other. Police officers fill the gaps and follow behind, everyone searching for you and Savannah.
Morgan is the first to stumble on the room. His throat aches when he screams for Hotch, keeping his weapon aimed at Savannah.
“Put the gun down!” Morgan yells.
Hotch comes skidding to a stop in the doorway a second later, weapon raised, but his eyes are focused on you. Savannah’s boot is pressing into your thigh, blood oozing from your wound, soaking your pants, spilling onto the concrete. Hotch’s heart drops at the sight. He’s seen enough bullet wounds to know how much blood should come from them. That is too much.
The bullet must’ve hit the major artery. And the thought terrifies him.
Morgan takes the shot when Savannah refuses to move. It hits her stomach and she stumbles for a moment before falling. Morgan yells for the paramedics again, distantly thinking they should be in here by now.
Hotch falls to the ground beside you, his hands cupping your face, not caring who sees. His thumbs tap your cheeks, willing you to open your eyes. You have a pulse, but it’s weak. Weaker than what it should be.
He presses hard over your wound, hoping to slow the bleeding, but there’s more surrounding your leg than he wants to see.
“Y/N?” He says, his eyes watching your eyelids for any movement. He lets out a momentary sigh of relief when your eyes open. “Y/N, please, can you hear me?”
You stare back at him, no signs of his words registering in your eyes. They’re empty. Haunted, again, but for a different reason this time. This time it’s different. “Aaron…”
“I’m here,” Hotch says gently, pressing his hand harder, his heart breaking when you groan in pain. “I know,” he says, shushing you.
Your eyes travel around the room then, and Aaron follows. Morgan is pressing his hand over Savannah’s wound, speaking into his wrist, asking the others where the hell the paramedics are at.
But Aaron doesn’t want you to see that, so he cups your jaw again, turning your eyes back on him. He smiles as best he can, the tears beginning to spill from his eyes as he takes in your face.
“There’s my girl,” he says softly. “Keep holding on. They’re almost here.”
“Aaron,” you try to say, your voice low and strained, and Aaron shakes his head, trying to get you to stop talking. “Aaron...I don’t wanna go without-- I need to tell you that I--”
“Shhh,” he tries again, not wanting you to waste any energy. “You don’t need to.”
“I love you,” you finally get it out. And he’s stunned to complete silence and tears. “I love you so...so much. It hurts.”
“Y/N,” he says, panicked. Your eyes are closing. “Y/N! Come back, Y/N, come back to me. Y/N. Y/N, please.”
Hotch is too caught up in holding your face and keeping pressure on your wound to notice the paramedics have arrived. One team goes to Savannah, relieving Morgan, while the other comes to you, trying to usher Hotch away, but he doesn’t budge.  
“Hotch,” Morgan tugs on the unit chief, grabbing at his arms, his heart breaking for the both of you. “Hotch, you need to let them get to her.”
Reluctantly, Hotch backs up, clenching his bloodied fist, grimacing at the way your blood sticks his skin together.
Everything else is a blur.
What does it need to be clear for, anyway? If you’re not here?
+++
You’re still in surgery.
It’s been an hour. But it feels longer. It feels like it’s been an entire twenty-four hours.
The entire team has taken up camp in a waiting room at the hospital.
Reid is reading and rereading every magazine he can get his hands on to distract himself, never mind the fact that he reads them so fast that he rips a page on one from turning it so quickly. Morgan has Garcia on the phone and has left to get coffee at least three times, the first time returning with a tray of steaming cups and the next two times returning with only one, but two tearful eyes. Emily has been pacing and will wear a hole into the tile at this rate if she walks for another hour. JJ has been staring at the wall, chewing so hard on the inside of her cheek that she flinches when she draws blood.
Rossi has been staring at the wall, too, but mostly he’s been worrying about and watching Hotch.
Aaron has been biting his nails, tugging at his hair, angrily wiping away tears, and left once to go on a walk before returning two minutes later, asking if they had heard anything. Those two minutes had felt like two hours and he was worried sick for all 120 seconds that he missed something.
Dave hasn’t tried to say anything to Aaron, though he wants to. It’s heartbreaking to watch Aaron like this.
You’re going to pull through. Dave — and the rest of the team — can’t afford to think otherwise. And they refuse to think otherwise, unable to imagine what it would be like if you weren’t here.
But it seems like Aaron is thinking otherwise.
Truthfully, he is. But he’s thinking about so much more.
You love him. You love him. You love him.
And he was too stunned to say it back. The one chance he had, and it might be gone now. Ripped away. Forever.
He sent you in there. He did this to you. He had his reservations, but the call had already been made. You seemed so sure. You wanted to do this so badly. He didn’t want another fight about him not trusting you because it’s not about his trust for you, it’s about how terrified he was for you.
He’ll never forgive himself for this now. Not ever.
It’s a world he can’t even bear to imagine. One without you in it.
Yet here he is, grappling with the fact that he might not have to imagine it soon. He sent you in there. He knowingly put your life in danger. And now he’ll have to live with the consequences.
+++
Aaron is shaken from his trance by the doctor and a nurse coming in to inform the team that you’re out of surgery and that it went well.
But you’re in the ICU.
“She lost a great deal of blood,” the doctor says gravely. “But we think she’ll pull through. She just needs to be watched closely for the time being.”
Everyone nods silently, not sure of what else to say, other than feeling relief that you’re alive.
“Visiting hours are long over, so I recommend you all get some rest,” the nurse says. “She’s in good hands here.”
“Thank you,” Rossi replies.
The doctor excused himself, but the nurse stayed, offering to answer any extra questions. “Visiting hours start at seven a.m.,” she says first. “And in the ICU, only two visitors are allowed in her room at a time.” She doesn’t voice an apology, but one is in her tone as she glances between the six team members.
“Can I stay?” Hotch blurts out of nowhere. The team member’s heads all turn to look at him in surprise. “Can anyone stay the night, I mean.”
“Uh, yeah,” the nurse nods. “One person can.” Her eyebrows furrow sincerely. “Are you her dad?”
Morgan internalizes a snort.
“No,” Hotch replies kindly. “I’m not, but I’d like to stay. I’m her boss.”
Still the nurse looks skeptical. “Would she be okay with—”
“She’s his girlfriend,” Emily blurts out, tired of waiting. And when Hotch sends her a look, she says, “What? It would’ve taken you hours to say it.”
“Oh,” the nurse chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. Yes, of course you can stay.”
Hotch lets a tiny smile shine through, but it’s not much. Truth is, he’s terrified to see you. But leaving you here alone – even if this is a hospital – terrifies him more.
The rest of the team says goodbye to head back to the hotel for some much-needed rest, if they can sleep at all. They know they’ll wake every couple hours to worry about you before sleep consumes them once more.
In the meantime, Hotch will be here to look after you for all of them. You’re like a little sister to the rest of them, even though Morgan is the only one to have voiced that. You’re loved here. Loved more than you’ll ever be able to comprehend.
You’re loved by Aaron much more than he’ll ever be able to articulate to you. But he’ll try. He’ll try to help you see.
+++
Hotch is finally walking to your room in the ICU after another half hour of waiting. The nurse said they had to get everything settled in your room before he could come back, which only made Hotch’s worry spike even more.
But eventually, he’s in your room with you. A pillow and blanket is in the chair by the window, but he’s not paying attention to it.
You. You’re asleep, of course, and probably will be for a few more hours. The nurse said you had already woken up once, but because of the pain medicine and the overall stress your body has been under in the past few hours, you fell back to sleep almost instantly.
Tears well in his eyes at the sight of you, laid up in the hospital bed, IVs and wires all over you. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only real sign to him that you’re even alive. Your chest is rising and falling, but it’s barely visible underneath the gown and blankets and wires.
You have one regular IV placed on the top of your left hand. Some other line is in your upper arm, and another in your wrist. He has no idea what they’re all for, he just knows he hates seeing you connected to so much.
Aaron wipes at his eyes angrily. Does he have a right to be this upset when he’s the one who sent you in there?
He turns and sets the pillow and blankets in the other chair, knowing he won’t sleep tonight even if he wanted to. Instead, he pulls the chair closer to your bed, where he can place his hand next to yours.
And, if you happen to wake up, you can reach for him if you need to.
+++
Three hours pass and you still haven’t woken up. Aaron knows. He’s been watching you the entire time.
The nurses have come to check on you a few times, assuring Aaron that it’s normal for you to be sleeping like this. But he just nods silently.
He wants you to wake up. Just for a minute. He needs you to just open your eyes and look at him, just once. That’s all he needs.
But it’s wishful thinking as the sky begins to lighten, showing the first signs of dawn.
Aaron links his pinky with yours, afraid to do much else and risk messing up your IV. Holding pinky fingers is enough right now. Or at least, it’ll have to be.
“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, to you, or really to no one at all, because he’s not even sure you can hear him. “I’m just so...sorry, Y/N.”
Stupid tears gather in his eyes again, clogging his throat, stopping his words.
But he keeps going.
“It’s my fault,” he says. “And I know you’ll try to convince me that it’s not, but Y/N, it is and I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I let this happen to you.”
He leans his head into the palm of his free hand, tightening his pinky finger’s grip on yours.
“I love you,” he blurts it out, tears warming his palm as they cascade down his cheeks. “I love you and I need you to wake up because I need you to hear it. I love you. I don’t think there’s ever been a day that I’ve known you that I haven’t loved you.”
He sniffles, loud and body-rattling, glad he’s alone in this room with you because he’d never let anyone else see him like this. No one but you.
“I tried to get it out before, but you were already gone, and I— You need to wake up. I need you to wake up. Please.”
Aaron keeps his eyes closed and head down for a few minutes longer. He doesn’t even see that you’ve opened your eyes.
Until your pinky finger gently squeezes his.
He lifts his head quickly, eyes wide and wild when he sees you’re looking back at him, eyes glassy with tears and exhaustion.
And just like that, just seeing your eyes open and looking right at him, the dam breaks once more. He’s a mess of tears when he leans his head down onto the bed. You lift your hand and thread your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes as more tears slip down your cheeks.
You scratch a soothing pattern on the base of his skull, moving your other hand over your body to hold onto his arm. He senses the movement and lifts his head, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.
He’s not sure how long he stays there, all he knows is his back aches when he straightens up again, and you’ve fallen back asleep.
Next chapter
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We Met Within This Screen [chapt. 7]
[Donnie x reader]
chapter 6 here
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"Nothing gets past me, especially not you and your nervous habits, Donatello," Splinter's voice bounced around Donnie's head. 
The brothers all looked at each other incredulously, Donnie's anxiousness replaced by complete bafflement. Everyone was wondering the same thing: How did he know?
"You wonder how I knew," Splinter said pointedly, "as if you four are any good at keeping a secret."
They waited for him to go on, but instead there was another uncomfortable pause, Splinter assumedly expecting them to say something. It was Mikey who finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna, like...tell us what we did wrong? How you knew? So next you can't—"
Splinter scoffed and brought his staff down on the youngest's foot. Mikey yelped, bouncing away on one leg. "Teach you how to lie? I have taught you many skills, but one that will always elude you is how to keep something from me. Parents have a sixth sense, you know." He turned to Donnie, regarding the rest of them with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You three, to your rooms. Come to the dojo with me, Donatello." 
The three were quick to scatter, Mikey whining into Raph's ear about being sent to their rooms so early, and Raph huffing that he'd been dragged in too. 
Swallowing, Donnie followed behind him a few paces, not sure what to expect but nervous all the same. He was lead in and instructed to sit down on the floor, Splinter settling down in front of him. Donnie's fingers brushed along the ridges of the knuckles of his other hand again and again as he tried to find something to occupy them with. 
Resting his palms in his hands, Splinter began to talk, voice less harsh than Donnie had anticipated. "I know that we lead a very isolated life, my son. But you must keep your priorities in perspective. You four need each other, and betraying one another's trust does not help that case."
"I'm sorry, Master Splinter," Donnie apologized and hung his head. 
"Perhaps you should apologize to your brothers, just as they should to you." 
I did put them on the spot, especially Leo, thought Donnie, considering now that he had put him and Raph in a weird position. They had to choose between ratting on him to Splinter and keeping it under wraps for the sake of not stirring up the pot needlessly. As much as Leo was a stickler for the rules, he didn't want to create dissension between him and Donnie. So, they chose the latter option, and now all four were in trouble with their father. 
"Okay. I guess...but, Master Splinter, how did you know?" 
"About your secret antics?" 
Donnie let out a humorless chortle, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that he had actually thought at some point, he was getting away with anything. "Yeah, it...it wasn't very much of a secret."
Stroking his chin, Splinter plainly said, "It was only a suspicion, until you confirmed it."
That night a few weeks ago when Splinter came to him in his lab. The way he squeaked when he was confronted just prior to them going to talk alone. Why didn't I think of that? It was a classic trick, one their father had deployed quite a few times on them. He'd been baited into giving himself away. None of them could tell when he was bluffing or if he actually knew. Save for Leo, who managed only twice in their time to make heads or tails of it. 
"I really walked right into that one," Donnie whimpered under his breath, palms pressing down on his knees. 
"You did. But," his tone turned more serious, looking him dead in the eye, "you must fix your mistakes, son." 
 "How?" asked Donnie softly, searching for his father's guidance, but it would find no purchase. He was hard pressed to find a solution immediately. 
Splinter shut his eyes and thought. It was a tricky situation, indeed. He gathered that if anything, this was an excellent lesson for Donnie, as well as the others. Under his own supervision, of course; there wasn't room for any more blundering. 
Standing up, he placed his staff under his hand. "I trust that you will find a way. You have a brilliant mind, Donatello. Use it well," he told him, and went to leave the training room. 
Donnie was still sat on the floor contemplating Splinter's words, honored yet uneasy at the same time that he was being entrusted to fix things. How, he didn't know. Truly. He was at war with himself trying to balance his logic with his emotions, trying to make the two meet gracefully, but it felt impossible. Whichever road he chose, it was a betrayal to the other. One left behind while the other took the wheel. And thoughtlessly, he blurted out, "What if your heart is telling you something completely different, Sensei? What if everything feels contradictory, and—and like there's no right answer, even though you do have this mind, you just can't seem to…" 
Donnie's voice tapered. Slightly surprised, Splinter stopped in his tracks, brows high as he looked back at him, who was so clearly riddled with a deeper kind of conflict. Critically discouraged, but still the sliver of will in those eyes of his. His heart went out to him. 
Splinter had known that Donnie was interacting with a human. What he hadn't known was that he was in love with the human. 
There was a moment of understanding, and Splinter realized that Donnie could not do this on his own. It reminded him of the times the turtles had all been children, the way Donnie looked to him for wisdom as he grappled with himself. Sighing, Splinter sat back down, this time close to him. Donnie was despondent, reverting to staring at the edge of the mat he sat on. "I know your struggles, my son. It seems like there's a sacrifice no matter what you choose, does it not?" 
"I don't want to let you guys down. But, I...you know, I'm sorry, Master Splinter, but you don't understand." 
He didn't want to say bluntly that he wanted to think of himself and his needs, unlike usual. He knew Splinter would probably not approve of that. None of them had much of a chance to make a selfish decision, aside from everyday things such tucking into the pizza before it even made it back to the Lair. So far, the number of times he could recall making a consequential choice for the sole purpose of indulging himself, was an astounding zero. 
"What makes you think I would not understand?" questioned Splinter, and Donnie regretted that he'd said it. He didn't miss how Donnie looked to be becoming mildly sour (among other things), though not at him specifically.
It was then Donnie clammed up, shut down the conversation, he was not going to say it. "It" being what he assumed Splinter wasn't privy to, that he had undoubtedly fallen hard for his friend. But knowing his father, he could totally have had a clue. Splinter didn't always need the details to make an assessment when it came to his sons, whom he knew all too well.
Letting out a crestfallen huff, Donnie rested his chin on his knee, arm obstructing the better half of his face. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled. 
Splinter stayed quiet. He didn't want to drive Donnie off—not when he was in such a turmoil. The atmosphere changed to a cold one. Donnie didn't acknowledge him until he put his hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying, "I will tell you again: I trust that you will figure it out." 
What if I make the wrong decision? 
"For all of our sakes, I hope you're right, Sensei," Donnie responded. Splinter smiled and got up, prepared to leave the matter at that until any further updates. Until the phone in Donnie's back pocket began to vibrate out of the blue. He wanted to answer, but what, at that point? What should he say? 
A minute went by of more persistent vibrating, and Splinter's ear twitched, certain he knew who it was. He was disappointed with the carelessness that had brought them to that moment, but what was done was done. None knew if the girl had any suspicions. "Are you going to answer it?" he asked, sort of prompting him to pick the phone up. 
"May I?" Donnie thought he might have sounded a little eager.
Splinter let out a calm hum and motioned for him to do it. Donnie lifted his finger to press accept, but Splinter interrupted firmly, "Speaker, Donatello."
Eyes flitting to Splinter, he accepted the call and reluctantly turned on the speaker. 
"Bo, what was all of that earlier, dude? You had me worried sick!" spoke [y/n], more concerned than angry (which Donnie was somewhat relieved about), but he sunk down sheepishly upon seeing the look on his father's face. He gave Donnie a questionable glance at the word "Bo", as he wasn't aware of the details. Donnie wasn't about to correct her right now. 
"I–...hey, [y/n]," he said, forcing himself to turn to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Splinter. The eyes on him made him feel put off to the point he couldn't focus on her voice, but the fact that Splinter was right there, listening in, and both were fixing to find out just what kind of mess they had on their hands. "Believe me when I tell you, you don't want to get caught up in this," he told her, "I can't—"
"Listen," she started, exasperated, "I've heard it before. 'I can't tell you this', and 'I can't tell you that'," she went on, "Be honest with me, Bo; is it that you can't or you just won't?"  
Splinter's thoughts were undetermined. Donnie couldn't read anything from his stoic expression. 
"It's not that I won't," he rebutted, pitch going up involuntarily, "Why won't you listen to me when I say I can't?" 
"Because there's something going on, with you, and I know my eyes weren't just playing tricks on me. I saw something crazy—I heard it, too, when I called you the other day!" 
I am so dead. Donnie's stomach did a flip. He couldn't face his father, but behind him, Splinter placed his hand on his face, covering his eyes. He shot Donnie an intimidating glance, and Donnie waved his hands nervously, listening to her go on as he backed up. Pivoting around from the jabs sent to his side by Splinter's staff, he jumped away with his comically long stride, trying to avoid the onslaught while juggling the phone. He muffled a grunf of pain when the cane managed to whack his head. 
"Hold on!" he said, and Splinter stopped and narrowed his eyes, the voice on the other end of the phone also going silent. Donnie couldn't regain his composure while being chased around the dojo, so he finally was able to sputter out, "W-what did you see?" 
"I was on the balcony, 'Don'. I heard your voice on the phone and saying the same thing from the roof, and saw two giant...turtles! With weapons, fighting what looked like ninjas?! What even is this?" she yelled. 
She'd put two and two together. There was no fixing. 
Only acceptance. 
Blinking, Donnie nearly dropped the phone. Splinter shut his eyes, slowly shook his head, and turned around. The sound of his cane tapping the floor as he walked was the only thing he could hear after he tuned out the speaker. 
He was now alone in the dojo, under the light that streamed through the grate above him, standing in the hush. 
He turned the speaker off. She, on the other end, was quiet, too, in disbelief. And probably rightfully feeling betrayed, in a way, Donnie thought. The friend she'd come to care for so much turned out to be someone she couldn't have even imagined. 
Licking his lips, he put on the most level tone he could and said in a struggle, "You can't tell anyone. I-if you say something, I'll... we'll…"
I could never threaten you, [y/n]. 
"You'll what?" she asked, voice low.
Then, all the could hear was her breathing. The dojo was completely quiet, the room was large, and there he was, in the middle. Donnie liked smaller spaces. Darker spaces, like his lab. He felt exposed in that moment, even when no one could see him.
"Be in danger," he said in earnest.
There was some rustling, then the sound of wind on her end. He barely heard a sliding door shut.
"Come here," she told him firmly. 
His eyes went wide. "What?" he questioned, stupefied.
She sighed, "No more lying, Bo—Don—I don't know. If what we have really matters to you…"
A mix of emotions swirled in him as he waited for her words. She hesitated.
"I'll come," he whispered, finishing her sentence. 
"You'll come." 
Blowing a breath out from between his lips, and nodded. Sorry, Master Splinter. 
He snuck through the Lair to the exit of the sewers.
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shini--chan · 3 years
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OKAY IMAGINE THIS - by some mirracle, s/o get teleported back in time to the pirate era and suddenly just drops from the sky as Antonio and Arthur are battling! Everything comes to a halt because a friggin woman fell from literally nowhere - Arthur is quicker and he captures s/o first, DEMANDING to know where she is from, how did she get here. Poor s/o tries to tell him the truth but it just isn't working. How stupid do you think Arthur is, huh?! He's not buying what you're selling love! (1/?)
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Oh blazes, my dear. You’re trying to seduce me into writing a novel for you, correct. Well, not today (sadly) so I’ll be going ahead with my usual mixture of headcanons and snippets. Also, to everybody out there: Requests are still being accepted – I just can’t bring myself to close my ask box.
Also, I wanted to write Arthur’s and Antonio’s lines in an older English, but then I remembered what it was like having to read books from the 19th century for school and decided not to inflict the torture upon you.
Yandere Love Triangle: England vs Spain (Historical Pirate AU!)
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As mentioned in the ask, you would be minding your own business, more or less, when you would suddenly be granted two of the wishes many harbour in their hearts: to time travel and have an adventure. Unfortunately for you, that wouldn’t happen with a forewarning and you wouldn’t have any chance to blend in. I wouldn’t say the battle would completely stop – with all the smoke and gunpowder and bangs going on only those close by would have a chance noticing.
Antonio was having a wonderful day. Yes, extremely wonderful. Life on the ship had been very good as of late, supplies running high and spirits even higher. They were reaching their climax now, with Spain showing England the business ends of sword and cutlas and cannon. It was a fitting sort of revenge being able to rob the lilly-livered bastard after he had stolen so much Spanish silver and gold.
The runt in question was baring his teeth and snarling like a cornered dog while their blades were interlocked, when Antonio heard a loud crash from behind England. It was probably just part of the ruckus of a sea battle, yet something – his fantastic intuition most likely – advised him to take a look. Of course, making the other combatant to move just how he wanted proved to be tricky, because Arthur had always been an uncooperative like blight and liked to fight dirty.
Yet he wasn’t a famed duellist for nothing. The sight that caught his attention when he got the opportunity to see it nearly caused him to lose an arm due to inattention. Men of both sides had briefly abandoned the battle to crowd around a failing figure that was desperately trying to free itself from a tangle of nets and torn sails. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves. The chorus of voices only grew louder when a very confused woman.
He found himself remarking: “It seems like you’ve finally started to develop a good taste in bed mates. Say, when did that happen, fishy. I always thought that you’d have luck to get a starved old tramp to warm your bed.”
“Shut up, Anthony!”, came the immediate reply, proving that the island nation wasn’t aware about what he was playing at. “Let’s not get on about you. Or should I tell your precious monarch about what you do in the stables when all the servants are gone?”
Pathetic little weasel. Enraged, Antonio brought the hilt of his sword down on that pale, cruel face and busted a pair of thin lips. “You should guard yourself from spreading lies, English pigdog. Or else the Almighty himself will smite you.”
Naturally, being the cunning demon he was, England used the opening Spain had provided him to barrel into him and send him flying overboard and into the sea.
That action would be quick to turn the tides, especially with so many men coming to aid their captain and help him out of water. This would result in Arthur then discovering you on his ship, probably when his first mate would rush to him and explain that a very strange women in a strange get-up had just suddenly appeared on the ship.
England would go and investigate and discover you surrounded by his crew, each of them having different responses to your presence and hence causing quite a commotion. He too would find you utterly alien – in your attire, in your mannerisms, even in your speech. But Arthur would be ever the pragmatic and reason that there would have to be another explanation to your appearance, one that doesn’t include miracles. But because he wouldn’t have either the time or the head space to deal with you at the moment, he’d have to thrown in the brig with strict orders to leave you alone. That would also be a way for him to torture you and force you to wallow in your worries and terrors.
The brackish water of the brig had long since made your feet wet, cotton soaks completely soaked through and chilling you. The stench it all emitted, and Arthur’s relentless questioning only further enhanced your discomfort.
He was prowling in front of your cage-like cell, like a tiger in the zoo. Only that he didn’t want to break out, rather that he was being continuously tempted to drag you out of your cell and onto the deck to be flogged for your insolence.
“At every turn you say to me that you’re from the future and that you don’t know how you came here”, he rehearsed the main points of your conversation with him. There had been a snarl on his face the whole time throughout the interrogation, his anger only making his voice curl tightly around the vowels and roll the r’s harder until you had to strain to understand him.
Mutely you nodded – you yourself had come to the conclusion that he understood you better when you kept your words simply, underlay them with gestures and expressions and spoke slowly.
In return, England shook his head and spat: “I do not believe you. Going backwards in time is impossible, it only goes forward.”
In any other situation you would have been inclined to agree with him. But you were living proof that there were glaring exceptions to that rule. Having unexpectedly landed in a long-gone era, you had first found yourself desperately grappling with your new reality. You had pinched yourself and read the letters on crates and barrel and closed your eyes and read them again to see if anything had changed – everything to assure yourself that you were dreaming.
You weren’t, nor had you taken any psychedelics, so this was painfully, gruesomely real. A fact that Arthur wasn’t excepting even with evidence right past the tip of his nose.
“Then how do you explain the ripped sails then? How do you explain my strange clothes?”, you questioned him. Then, after a brief pause, you asked: “How do you explain that I know who and what you are?”
You knowing that he was a personification of a budding Empire was a sore spot for him and made him even more suspicious of you. Something that was now backfiring on you.
He waved your words off with evident irritation and countered: “There are more reasonable explanation for all of that. That you’re a spy from a foreign country for example.”
Arthur would never cease with side-eying you and constantly be on the look-out for more logical explanations for your otherness. He would find them as well. Yet there would always be a little voice in the forefront of his mind nagging him that you are telling the truth and that he was wasting the opportunity of the millennia by blowing your words in the wind.
Those doubts would be the main reason he would keep you alive, along with his quest to extract the “truth” from you. However, there would be times when he would be tempted to fetch those thumbscrews from his quarters to see if you’d crack under pressure. Yet he would still restrain himself.
That wouldn’t mean your stay on his ship would be pleasant. You’d constantly be wet and cold, with rats crawling around the brig and your meals being a near inedible gruel that would be set aside for you.
Therefore, it would be an absolute relief when Spain would swoop in to rescue you. It would be an even greater wonder when he would actually listen to you and take into consideration what you would say.
“Tell me if I’ve got this right: In the future, you don’t send letters anymore that take months to reach another country. Instead, you send messages from small machines which the other person can read only after a few seconds, no matter how far away they are”, Antonio summed up what you had just cautiously explained to him.
You had been so shy when he had taken you aboard his vessel, so afraid he would just maltreat you like Arthur had. It had taken its time for him to convey that he was different from that godless brute, that he was civilized and patient. He wouldn’t disregard miracles and let them slip through his fingers. It had taken its own sweet time to coax you into telling the truth, but now you were sitting across him in his quarters, nodding enthusiastically.
“More or less, yes. There is a lot more to that, but that is the start of it”, you affirmed his words. You were relieved that you finally had somebody to talk to in this time were you previously had nobody. The food being served helped you weigh yourself into safety – fresh fruit and other perishable treats, an absolute luxury onboard a ship with a sizable crew. Indeed, you were becoming so comfortable with your host, your lifeline at this point, that you were betraying things about your future that you otherwise wouldn’t have.
And wasn’t yet about detail concretely concerning him, but you would both get there eventually. Spain was sure of that.
Meanwhile you didn’t notice the hungry gleam in his eyes when he purred: “Fascinating, my dear. What else can these things do?”
Being a Catholic, Antonio would be far more inclined to believe you on the time-traveling thing. He would also add two and two together on your strange clothes and their material, not to mention your different attitudes and behaviours and realise that you would be telling the truth. He would treat you kindly as a way of getting you to talk to him, eventually becoming the only person you could trust.
He would guard you jealously and ensure that you would only speak to him – having knowledge of the future would be a right he would reserve for himself alone. It would also cause him to become obsessed with you, keeping you in his quarters or leading you onto the deck at night for short walk. Of course, he would paint the whole isolating thing as he keeping you safe, saying that Arthur was after you.
The argument with Arthur would have far more validity then Antonio would even imagine. The wisdom that you don’t know what you really have until you lose it would be especially true in his case. It would finally dawn upon him that you were telling the truth the whole time and that would lead Arthur to beat himself up over it. A pursuit to recapture you would ensue.
Not to mention that it would make his blood boil to think that Spain would be courting you, persuading you to tell him everything he could ever want to know about the future. Besides  being a threat to his future existence and ongoing success, England would like to have all that knowledge himself and for himself only. Knowledge is power, after all.
Arthur would also miss you for your wit and endurance, fantasizing and dreaming of you to the point of obsession and never quitting his chase for you.
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hockeylvr59 · 3 years
Text
Honest Love Part 4 || Cale Makar
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Requested: [ ] yes [x] no
Authors Note: This part starts off with Cale’s pov. I’m a little stuck writing wise but hopefully as soon as I’m done with my semester in the next couple weeks I’ll get some motivation back to start the next part of this. In the meantime, feel free to let me know what you think. We’re now caught up to the flashback in the finale of Secret Love but not fully caught up just yet. 
Warnings: smut, cursing
Word Count: 3,086
~~~~~~
Cale was dead tired as he slipped his key into the lock of his apartment door. Road losses were always tough and he was looking forward to changing out of his suit before crawling into bed with his girlfriend. It was crazy how much he missed the scent of her shampoo and the way her body fit against his, crazy how he’d ever been able to survive coming home to an empty bed when now he couldn’t even fathom it. 
When the door gave way, he stumbled inside, closing and locking it behind him as he slipped off his shoes, letting them clatter quietly onto the mat. It was only then that he realized how bright it was in the apartment, light pouring down the hallway to the kitchen. Padding tiredly toward the light, Cale noticed his girlfriend standing in the kitchen pouring a packet of hot chocolate mix into a mug. 
She was normally long asleep when he came home so he was surprised to find her awake. Still, out of habit, he leaned in to kiss her softly. As he pulled away, he noticed a wrapped package on the edge of the island counter and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“What’s that?” The question spilled from his mouth as he shrugged his suit jacket off. Her reply that it was a present for him only created further confusion and he leaned in against the counter. “My birthday isn’t for two weeks sweetheart...can’t it wait?”
Her negative response insisted that he had to open it now and he watched her for a minute trying to piece together what was going on. Something felt off about all of this but the late hour provided little help and he grabbed the package, immediately going for the wrapping. Quickly scolded by his girlfriend, Cale felt his eyes roll and he yawned, reaching for the card. 
The second his brain processed the first word of the little poem Cale’s heart started racing. ‘No. No way.’ His brain screamed. ‘There’s no way this means…’ By the time he finished reading he could hardly breathe. Grappling with the package, he tore the wrapping paper off before tugging at the lid. His hands immediately wrapped around soft fabric and pulling it out revealed a tiny little sleep outfit. A second semi-blind grab had his fingers wrapping around a tiny stick of plastic, the word ‘pregnant’ staring back at him as he lifted it from the box. ‘Holy shit.’ His brain screamed again as his jaw nearly hit the floor. 
Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Cale felt his eyes start to water, tears spilling down his cheeks. 
“We’re having a baby? You’re serious?” Her mouth moved, but Cale couldn’t even process the words. Instead, it was the anxious smile on her face that signaled this was not a joke. He wrapped her up in his arms, spinning her as his head dipped to press into the crook of her neck, basking in the heat of her body. 
“I can’t…You’re sure?” Her confirmation that multiple tests all revealed the same thing made his hands shake and he kissed her tenderly, feeling her fingers run through his hair. 
The way she pleaded with him to tell her that he was okay with this nearly tore his heart in two. How could she ever think that he wouldn’t be okay with this? This was everything he wanted and more. 
“We’re having a baby.” He repeated, needing to hear the words again for it to actually click. “Fuck sweetheart...of course I’m okay with this.” Shaking his head, he felt some of the fog lift and his smile finally started spreading widely across his face. “You’re having my baby. I’m shocked but...good shocked.” Kissing her again, he attempted to express just how okay he was with this news without words. 
She was having his kid. He was gonna be a dad. There was a baby growing in her abdomen...a baby they had made together. 
His dress slacks strained against his thighs as he dropped to his knees in front of her, hands sliding across her lower belly. His baby was in there. Safe and warm and growing because it has the best mommy ever to take care of it. 
Nuzzling his nose against her, Cale slid his hands onto her hips before pressing light kisses onto her shirt-covered skin. As his girl whispered down at him that their baby says ‘happy early birthday daddy’, Cale felt more tears roll down his cheeks. He couldn’t have asked for a better present. Couldn’t have dreamed of one. Her insistence and urgency regarding the present now made sense and as he pushed himself to his feet, he wrapped his arms around her once more. 
“You’re giving me the greatest gift in the world.” He assured her. “I love you so much. Both of you.” 
“You’re really okay with this?” She questioned again, her voice wobbling slightly. 
“Yeah sweet girl.” He insisted, annoyed with himself for whatever had caused her to feel so insecure about this. “All I want is a family with you. I was gonna wait until I had put a ring on your finger to try for a baby but now works just fine.” 
Scooping her up, he carried her back to bed ever so carefully, his mouth grazing over her stomach once more as he settled her onto the sheets. 
“And don’t worry. You’re still going to get the ring.” He smirked, eyes glimmering as he peered down at her, amazed at how he could possibly love her more now than he did 2o minutes ago. 
Her giggle filled his ears, causing his smile to grow as he stripped out of his suit and crawled into bed, his hand sliding down along her belly as he pulled her against his side. 
“So tell me everything. How did you find out? How far along are you? Are you feeling okay? What do you need me to do?” With his thumb tracing circles against her skin, Cale listened as she recounted the last few days, assuring him that she felt completely fine so far. Admittedly, he was relieved to know that she hadn’t been feeling sick, that if she hadn’t gone to the doctor, she would have had no clue she was expecting. 
She explained how she couldn’t be more than 4 weeks along because she’d gotten her period in September and already Cale’s head was swimming with just how unfamiliar all of this was to him. He was definitely going to need to start doing some research. Seeing the look on his face, she patiently explained how the dating of pregnancy works and as she did so, embarrassment flooded her cheeks. 
“You know how we conceived this baby don’t you?” She questioned, her eyes shifting as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Again, the late hour provided no assistance until Y/N reminded him of what they’d done just a few weeks earlier. 
“Hmmm...at least we know that’s an efficient method now.” Cale found himself joking softly. She flicked his shoulder making him laugh and he pulled her into another soft kiss. “Can’t wait to see our baby grow inside you.” He murmured. “Gonna be so beautiful to watch.” Just the thought of watching her belly swell made his dick twitch and Cale was certain that the real thing was going to be indescribably sexy. 
Yawning softly, Cale looked at the clock to find it was already 3am. Though he was buzzing, wanting to know everything about the way their lives were changing, the game and travel were catching up with him and with his palm still resting along Y/N’s abdomen, he finally fell asleep. 
*****
You woke up to an empty bed, the sheets beside you already cool. It wasn’t totally abnormal for Cale to wake before you, but you still found yourself pouting softly. Stretching, you pulled your body out of bed, making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and take your prenatal vitamins. 
Pushing open the cracked door revealed Cale standing at the vanity, freshly showered with just a towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water dripped down his back from his hair and you gently teased your fingers over a few of them as you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. Yawning quietly, you peeked up at him, watching as he relaxed into your touch. 
“Morning daddy.” You murmured, your words followed by light kisses to his shoulder blades. All at once, it seemed like the early morning revelations flooded back over him, his smile stretching even wider. 
“Morning mommy...how are you and baby doing this morning?” His voice was still filled with sleep, and you shivered at the sound of it, the effect it had on you familiar and welcomed. 
“We’re good...little sad daddy didn’t stay in bed for morning cuddles.” You teased, rubbing his back as you stepped to the side, your hands reaching for the bottles of pills you needed to take before you forgot. 
Cale didn’t respond right away, though you felt his gaze taking you in as you popped pills into your mouth, filling a small cup with water to help you swallow them down. 
“Come ‘ere.” Cale eventually whispered, turning to pull you against his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss started gently, filled with Cale’s awe at the fact that you were pregnant. As it continued, however, it deepened into something more and you let your nails scrape over Cale’s sides and back until a groan spilled from his throat. 
“Can we still?” He asked dumbly, his hard length pressing against your stomach. 
“Yeah Cale, we can still have sex.” You giggled, the sound morphing to a squeal as Cale picked you up and carefully carried you back to bed. Laying against the pillows, you let Cale strip you out of his borrowed t-shirt and your panties, his eyes raking slowly over your body again. 
“Gorgeous. My girl is so gorgeous.” Cale murmured. After tugging his towel away, you pulled him into another kiss, feeling him settle gently between your thighs. Your skin was tingling by the time Cale pulled away from the kiss, dropping down your body. As his mouth latched onto one of your breasts, you whimpered. 
“Cale...stop please.” You whispered, gently pushing his head away. Immediately he froze and pulled back, concern lacing his expression. “Apparently sore and tender breasts are my first pregnancy symptom.” You explained softly. “So uh...let’s just avoid that. But please...continue otherwise.” Cale’s brows furrowed as he eyed you for a moment before nodding, taking your guidance. 
This time when he dipped down, he skipped over your breasts, instead trailing kisses across your stomach. 
“Can’t believe my baby is in there.” He mumbled, his touches super gentle and adoring. Smiling down at him, you tangled your fingers in his damp hair, and after one more line of kisses across your belly, Cale dipped down, sucking your clit between his lips. 
“Oh fuck.” You cried out softly, having missed the feeling of his mouth on you. He didn’t stay long, but it was enough to make you needy for more and as you felt the length of his cock drag along your hip you moaned, desperate for the stretch of him inside of you. “Cale please.” You begged, your hips arching up against him. 
“Shh sweetheart...I’ve got you.” He promised. Thankfully, he didn’t make you wait, and the friction of him sliding deep into you made your toes curl with relief. “Shit you feel so good.” He murmured staring down at you as his hips slowly started to move. Your eyes remained locked and you shared soft kisses back and forth as Cale slowly and passionately made love to you. You’d had sex more times than you could count by now, but once again, this time felt different and new. 
Of course, part of that newness was the spike in hormones caused by the pregnancy and everything associated with that. But another part was the way Cale was reacting, keeping things slow and gentle though his hips were stuttering with a lack of control more frequently than you were used to. 
“You’re not going to hurt us.” You remind him, fingers brushing along his cheeks. “You don’t have to be so slow or so gentle hun...not when I know your body wants more.” 
“Not that…” Cale hissed, his hips pausing for a moment. “Trying not to cum.” The truth of his words reflected back in his eyes and you couldn’t help but smile even as your hips shifted, seeking out the friction again. His hips had been stuttering because he was already fighting back his orgasm and the realization that he was so aroused just knowing you were pregnant sent a wave of heat through your body. 
“Cale…” You whispered softly. “Just cum for me. I’m so sensitive it’s not going to take much for me to be right behind you.” Pecking his lips again, you rolled your hips once more. That was all it took apparently for Cale to give in, his hips snapping forward pulling a scream of pleasure from your throat. “Oh fuck…oh fuck…” You repeated, feeling Cale slowly inch out of you before his hips snapped forward once again. 
It was only a few more thrusts before you felt Cale spilling inside of you, his body going limp with the force of it as your own orgasm crested suddenly, clamping down around him. As he softened inside of you, you pecked his lips once more, your fingers brushing over his cheeks again. 
“Pregnancy sex is going to be fun…” You teased drawing a laugh from Cale’s throat as he carefully pulled out of you, shifting to lay against your side. 
“Yeah sweetheart, it is.” He agreed, his nose brushing against your shoulder as he kissed his way up to your face. Basking in the afterglow, you snuggled against your boyfriend for a few minutes before the need to pee took over. 
By the time you finished using the bathroom and had slipped into another one of Cale’s shirts, he was in the kitchen, a mug of tea already steeping for you while he buzzed around to make breakfast. 
“You may not know it yet but you have the best daddy on the planet.” You whispered to your stomach, as you settled onto a barstool, just watching Cale. “And I really hope you get his eyes...among so many other things.” It was only day 1 having Cale join you on this journey to parenthood but so far so good. 
________
Your first pregnancy symptom had been the tenderness and soreness in your breasts. It was inconvenient but tolerable considering that you worked from home and didn’t have to wear a bra most of the time. And you didn’t necessarily feel pregnant because of it. No...the feeling of being pregnant only came with the arrival of your second symptom. 
No...not nausea or vomiting...thankfully those hadn’t arrived yet. Instead, it was the fatigue. How suddenly no matter how much you slept, you were constantly tired. Cale had played two home games in the days following the discovery of your pregnancy and while you’d previously worked while he napped, now you found yourself joining him as he came home from morning skate, pulling him back to the bedroom to rest for an hour or so together. 
You knew Cale was worried, but you assured him that it was completely natural. This was when the baby was at its most rapid rate of growth and so of course your body was going to be tired after providing the baby everything it needed. Right now you were just relieved that you weren’t experiencing morning sickness, allowing you to be certain that your intake of vitamins and nutrients was right where it needed to be. 
Cale’s worry meant that he wanted to keep you close and with the combination of your fatigue and your boyfriend leaving for a five day road trip tomorrow afternoon, you were happy to comply. That was how you found yourself snuggling into the couch with Cale as he pulled up the PS4 to play Fortnite with a few of his teammates. Obviously not Nate...Cale had told you about how Nate had been chirping him endlessly for his Fortnite skills. But there were a few of the other guys who were also more casual players and they had decided during practice that today was a gaming day. 
Cale had draped your legs over his lap before tucking you both under a blanket and his hands settled against your knees as he waited for the game to load, pulling his headset on over his ears. You’d grabbed one of the baby books you’d picked up to read while he played, but watching him was far more entertaining….and way less overwhelming than studies on breastfeeding and cosleeping. The way he laughed and joked about playing like shit made you smile and eventually your eyes drifted closed, the sound of your boyfriend’s voice a soothing background noise. You honestly couldn’t ask for a better way to spend an afternoon. 
Even if you hadn’t been listening to him, you were certain you’d know when he was between games because his hand would slide down to graze across your lower stomach. You honestly weren’t sure how much of that was a conscious act and how much was just instinct anymore because Cale constantly seemed to gravitate towards the baby. It had been less than a week since you’d shared the news with him, but it was clear that this tiny bundle of cells had stolen Cale’s heart already, just as it had yours. Neither of you had expected to start a family so soon into your relationship, but it felt like something that was just meant to be, falling into place the same way everything else had. 
As your fatigue kicked back in, you felt yourself falling asleep once more to the sound of Cale’s laugh. Pregnancy wasn’t going to be easy, you knew it was going to wear on your body and your emotions. But you weren’t alone and it would all be worth it in the end. How could it not be when you were having a child with the man you planned to spend the rest of your life with? 
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sharpwin101 · 3 years
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“EVERYTHING I DID, I DID FOR YOU”
N.B. Hey guys, I'm re-uploading this narrative due to previous grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. mistakes. I'm completely bad at proofreading lol, and didn't take the time to read over, but after receiving some very impactful feedbacks on twitter, it gave me the motivation I needed to somewhat correct these mistakes🤞hopefully enough, finishing this fanfic, which I must say I'm quite excited for you guys to read.
  S2 EP16 “EVERYTHING I DID, I DID FOR YOU”,
  CHAPER 1
I don't get it?  As tears stream down her cheeks,
Her thoughts raced as she remained in front of her bathroom mirror long enough to get agitated by her own self-pity. 
She understood that harboring such feelings would not only be self-destructive, but would keep her trapped, she was mentally stronger, and refuses to let it sabotage the barrier she has construct throughout the years.
She knew conquering and embracing Max’s indecisiveness, was just a question of time. That continues to fail him terribly, repeatedly, to define them, what they meant to each other, wondering how much longer, if not impossible, it will be for him to embrace and overcome his own fetters to unleash what he truly feels. 
Will he ever? she’s impel to believed, naively unaware of her imperceptiveness to his true desire, behind his barriers, causing her to suspect mistakenly,
Questing “does he feels the same” 
She paces back and forth, flipping her heels off with a small grimace, scattering them on the floor.
Fervently turning to her living room, with an instant wipe of her tears, in the direction of the liquor cupboard, pulling the first wine bottle her hand came across, desperate for a wine opener, she run-walk towards the kitchen, leaving nearly all of the drawers open while probing through.
She spotted the opener. Yes, yes! Clutches it obstinately, relieved. 
As she holds the bottle inverted between her knees, she struggled to open it a bit, her mind still being indistinct after their encounter, temporarily forgotten how to open the wine bottle.
(The wine cork flew free)
She hastily turns it to her head, gulping it down as if she didn't have time to consume it a bit slower, inadvertently spilling it on her. 
Crap!
Returning to the bathroom in search of her robe, while undressing herself and gulping more wine down her throat.
Being the clean freak she is, immediately after, she brought her clothing towards the laundry room, as she senses the impending intoxication looming over her.
(Crash)The wine bottle slipped from her deft grip and shattered on the floor. 
she slowly slumped to the floor, leaning against the laundry door for support grappling to sit up. While her clothes slowly unfold from her arms, As she casts a longing glare into space.
She ruminate aloud, frustratedly. 
What is wrong with me? Staring up towards the roof, as though she was seeking answers to all of life's unanswered questions from a greater Entity.
Why I’m I so unlucky?
I fought on, knowing that I wasn't even sure whether I'd be ready too, if you chose me then or now, she added, laughing.
All the walls I've worked so hard to build, comes crumbling down whenever I see, I can’t comprehend it. 
As she gently holds the nape of her neck, breathing deeply, with her left hand  supporting her head, while facing down. I don't want to lose control; I can't lose control.
You say these significant things,
you look at me in the way you do, and then you do nothing?  How can I fight for that?
You asked me why I did what I did, despite the fact that you already knew the answer. I asked you to define us; 
what exactly, this, we are?  as she motioned for answers
I've given you so much, and I tried so hard not to but it's as if all my rationale goes out the window when you're in danger. (laughing sarcastically at her self). 
For God sake, you yelled at me.......... whenever I try to help.
I have these fantasies about you before getting out of bed, I've tried to ignore it; believe me, I have (laughing) 
now I'm just here talking to myself.
As her gaze wandered around the room, she became irritated by the smashed wine bottle. 
   “ FIGHT FOR US”,
CHAPERT 2
(KNOCKING) She tilted her head, confusedly glancing towards the front door, wondering if it was the alcohol or someone was actually at the door.
Struggling to get up from the floor, as she continues to listen attentively to hear whether the knocking was coming from her front door. She slightly slipped when grabbing for her phone on the kitchen counter, to check the time.
11:43pm
Tightening her robe as she wiped her face, pondering, a few names flashed through her mind, But why would they not call? silently muttering to herself. Her phone started to ring as soon as the knocking ceased. Resuming her attention to her phone, which lids up, displaying "Dr. Max Goodwin” with a slight discontent look, she responded, still gazing at the door, nervously biting down on her index finger.
What, what do you want? She answered. 
"I'm at your door; will you let me in?". Quickly swallowing her saliva, her heart races, instantly lowering her phone to her side, with a million thoughts rushes through her head as she looked at the messed she had created, quickly ending his call. She began picking up her clothes from the floor and rushed to the washroom, staring at her flushed face, unbothered at this point and didn't care whether he noticed she was crying.
She trudged towards the front door, spotting her bed slippers and pulls them on.  Briefly pausing before opening the door.
There he was, standing in front of her. Casually dressed, in blue jeans, a grey    t-shirt, and his black jacket, which she had seen him in before.
Trying not to look into his eyes, but he has already peered right into hers. Struck by how small and delicate she looks outside the walls of the hospital, becoming completely lost in her eyes, unable to speak. 'Um, I... What are you doing here? she asked, before he could finish his sentence.
Were you crying? With a slight head tilt, she rolled her eyes irritably as she turns her back on him, leaving the door ajar. What are you doing here, Max?, her voice raised rather than normal. The frustration in her voice perplexed him. I wanted to ‘Um, before noticing the shattered wine bottle on her floor. 
As she reaches to get the mob and dustpan from the storage area adjacent to her kitchen. He watches her as she teeters, shutting the drawers that she left open earlier.
As she approaches the spilt wine on the floor, she kept her eyes lowered trying not to look him into his. He detects her shakiness as she extends the broom over the shattered wine bottle. No! he said, with no intent, to say it so loudly. Reaching his hands towards the broom.
Let me help, she still persisted. He gently withdrew the broom from her grasp when she walked away towards another section of her apartment, as his eyes followed her.
He disposed the shattered glass in the trash can, placing the mob and dustpan into the already opened storeroom.
In search of her, he returned to the living room area. noticing she had her back to him, curled up on her couch in a sitting position, fully wrapped in a blanket that matches the color of his shirt.
He stood behind her for minute before approaching.
Placing his hand on her shoulder as he walks to the side of the couch. She shivers at his touch just enough for it to go unnoticed while still looking down.
Seating next to her, he tries to get her attention. Helen, she did not respond. I'm sorry.... As he questioned. Are you okay? Placing her right palm on her forehead, displaying a tiny discomfort. She muttered, I have a minor headache. ‘Um, do you have any pain relievers? Instantly patted his forehead after, quickly realizing she wouldn't be able to take it seeing that she was drinking. Hastily corrects himself, do you want me to make you some tea? she fixes her gaze on him.
Please let me make you tea, while he makes his usual puppy eyes at her.
She gave her approval with a nod. Where are your…...? Instructing him with a finger while drawing the blanket back up to her shoulders. He stood up lively, walking towards her kitchen, absolutely taken aback by how tidy and organized her apartment looked.
Already knowing what kind of tea because they both enjoy it the same, reaching into the pantry for the box of tea bags on the lower shelf, pulling a cup from the washer and placing it on the hot water kettle. He spoons in 1/2 teaspoon of sugar exactly how she likes it. While leaning his back on the counter.
As he waited for the water to heat up, he indulged in his thoughts, gazing around her kitchen.
The whistling from the kettle stopped, with relieved he turned around, adding the hot water to the tea bag and returning to her,
With a wide smile on his face, he hands her the cup, she noticed he didn't have his wedding ban, she looked into his eyes as her hands extends to take the cup. He noticed that she noticed, with a little distance between them, he sat beside her in silence. 
on her third sip of tea, he glances at her and proceeded to apologize.
I should never have let you walk out that door, ‘I, I.... I have tried to hide this.  It's been hard,
It almost drove me completely insane. As she looked at him, intently listening 
I've tried to hold back, since the day we met.......................... It's been eating me alive knowing I felt this way while being married and had already started a family,
but I can't deny that I haven't felt this, not any more, he remarked, shaking his head.
For the longest time, I felt guilty, knowing I had felt this way about you,
if I let you slip out of my life, without trying, to fighting for us, I will not survive it, 
I see you, Helen. it’s just that sometimes it takes me a minute, to remember what matters more than anything, you.
He drew closer to her, as she sets the tea cup on the center table. Helen, 
I’m ready to fight. Fight for you, for Us. 
Every time you've been near me, I've wanted to do stuff to you, imagining what it would be like. 
You are undeniably BEAUTIFUL and sexy, and I need to have you, in all the ways I have been dreaming of.
She swallows her nonexistent saliva as he got closer. With her mouth partially open, uncontrollably batting her eyes at him. She searches his eyes, while he searches hers for permission, to touch her, intimately. Placing his left hand on the right side of the back of her neck sliding his fingers upward, gently holding on to her hair, a rush of adrenaline prickled her stomach, as he watched the whooshing of her breathing, thinking how soft on silky the growths of her hair felt.
She needed him to touched her, she needed to grip him closer, but her body was weak, weak to his touch. As they stared intensely at each other, their faces being only a few inches apart, tightening his grip on her hair, causing her to slightly tilted her head back, finally freeing of her temporary paralysis, she grabs hold to his muscular arm with her left hand, while clutching his side with her other hand.
He knew he was in charge, and she wanted him, his lips being a inch closer to hers, her eyelids, fill down slowly closing.
Their lips touch, as their bodies tingles, her chest rises, left her feeling like she had no air. The instant chemistry they felt, was uncontrollable. His thinking slowed when his lips met hers. Time becoming unknown, as if he were in a dream, how warm and crazily soft her lips were.
As they draw each other deeper and further into each other's sanctum, thrusting herself up with a knee for support. 
Has he pauses, looking intently into her eyes, slowly begin rolling her robe over her shoulder.
In complete awe of how clear and smooth her skin appears, while stirring her down. He notices she was wearing a black lace bra that matches her thong, which complemented her skin tone well, lost in her eyes, before entirely removing her robe. As she gets back up on both knees, yanking his jacket off, while he impatiently helped her to removed his shirt.
Unbuckling his belt, she unzip his jeans. Holding her by the lower portion of her cheeks, he punches his tongue into her mouth. Resting his back on the couch, hoisted her up on top of him.
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feeling her body, with both his hands on her waist, recognizing how small it was in comparison to her hips, being considerably wider. She bends her knees and places her hands on the couch over his shoulder. As his tongue trails down her neck, while unclipping her bra, struggling a little.
Carefully pulling it off, her hands fill to her side, looking down at him, when he stroked her breast with his hands, causing her head to fall back uncontrollably, as a rush of adrenaline went to her vulva, gasping harder as he places his mouth over her tit, slowly sliding his hand into her thong concomitantly.
He gave her a look, realizing she was already lubricated, as she gasped for breath somewhat dropping her upper body backwards as his hand quickly supported her back, her mouth flew wide open, when he slid his index and middle finger in an upward motion on her clit.
She moaned loudly as he stroked it faster, her body slipping in and out of his grip, being a fraction of a second from an orgasm, he halted.
He hoisted her up positioning her back laying on the couch, with one of his hands intertwined with hers above her head. He opens her legs slightly with his bent knee, while she bends her knees up to give him access. Passionately kissing her while caressing her clit with his right fingers. Her heart races. As he drags his tongue in between her breasts, he releases her hands as he went down further, trailing his tongue towards her navel, causing her tummy to jerked.
He elevates his head up as he pulls himself down more to her vulva, while holding on to her hips. He tasted her, swiftly clinging to the cushion behind her, unable to keep her legs steady as he licks her clit. (she rapidly gasp for air).  
She weakly tries to pull him up, with her orgasm being at it’s peek, moving back towards her lips, as they exchanged sensual glances. Using his hands as a support to keep himself upright while holding on to his already-erected dick. He puts the blanket under her back to elevate her slightly.
Penetrating her. Max, she screamed, quivering and gasping for breath, as she looks deeply into his eyes, attempting to caress the side of his face, (while she bit her bottom lip, as he went in deeper, she clutches onto him.
His sweat drips on her skin, as he moans, they couldn’t get enough of each other.
As he penetrates deeper, harder and faster inside her, he tightens his grasp around her waist. As they drew closer, their moans became more even louder.
Fuck! he shouted as he ejaculated his semen into her, simultaneously in the instant of her orgasm relief. They both felt to the ground. Looking at each other, completely in awe. 
He extends his hand to the side of her face, pulling her in, to cuddled her.
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I Want Us Part 3
Fandom: SVU / One Chicago
Series: I Want Us
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)
Pairing: Carisi x Reader
Warning/s: kidnapping, guns/shooting
Word Count: 2,602
Summary:  When a child abduction case crosses state lines in New York, Intelligence flies out to meet the Special Victims Unit and track down the missing boy. With the clock ticking, both units decide to mix up partners in order to combine their knowledge of the case with knowledge of New York City, pairing Intelligence’s newest member Y/N with Detective Carisi. After a successful stakeout the pair finds themselves on the tail of the suspect, determined to bring him to justice and bring the boy back home.
Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​ // @inlovewith3​ //
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Action came sooner than you were expecting, both you and Carisi silently agreeing that the gun shots that sounded from inside the building constituted absolutely necessary as burst from the car, gun out your holster in seconds as you peered around the fence.
A man was running out of the building, Ronny you assumed by the child he was forcefully dragging along under his left arm. Even in the available light, it was clear both were unharmed, the metalic glint of an object in Ronny’s right hand causing you to make the fair assumption that he’d fired the shots you heard.
There was no way to sneak up on him, but soon you lost all need to as he paused by the car he’d arrived in, hesitating before frantically looking around and taking off down the road and into the night.
“We can’t lose him,” you said forcefully, both of you making your way quickly to the entrance of the bar just as another car rolled up. Halstead and Rollins jumping out.
“We’ve got Ronny and Logan, there are at least two men inside, potentially injured,” Carisi told the others, you and Halstead sharing a nod as you followed Carisi down the street, hearing the others disappear into the building followed shortly by a request for two ambulances to their location over the radio.
You followed just behind Carisi, hands gripping your gun as you made your way down the street, footsteps echoing in the silent night. Ronny had heard, glancing back at you before picking up his pace, but if your footsteps could be heard down the road, Logan’s cries and shouts were unmissable. He disappeared around a corner and you lowered your gun slightly in one hand, sprinting with Carisi, the sound of Logan’s despair all the motivation you needed to not slow down for a second.
Not only had this man abducted his own child, he’d just shot two men in front of him. You didn’t understand how anyone could do that, and you never wanted to.
As you reached the corner Carisi signaled for you to hold back, checking the coast was clear before you took off running again, Ronny still on the move. He was getting slower though, you realised, and you weren’t surprised given the uncooperative child under his arm.
He peeled off down and ally as you continued to give chase, seemingly trying to lose you both with his various twists and turns. It wouldn’t work though, you had him now and he wasn’t getting away.
Stopping again to check the coast it was your turn to peer around the edge of a wall, your head barely going an inch before you jumped back, brick breaking off where your head had just been.
“Dead end,” Carisi whispered to you, apparently knowing where you were. Ronny was trapped, which may have been worse you realised with a sinking feeling. He was already a desperate man, and desperate men often thought they had nothing left to lose.
“Ronny!” You called down the ally, your voice bouncing off the stones as Logan’s sobs quietened. “Ronny there’s nowhere else to go, just put the gun down and let us take you in, it’s over, no one else has to get hurt.” You tried to sound demanding but it came out as more of a plea.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said back, though it sounded like he was talking more to himself than you, “he’s my son, mine! He should be with me, it’s what I deserve-”
Your blood was boiling, knowing full well that all that man deserved was a jail cell. Still, you could tell he was unravelling, and that wasn’t good for anyone, least of all Logan. With a ‘trust me’ look to Carisi you holstered your gun, taking a breath as you stepped out into the opening of the ally, in full view of Ronny and his gun.
Carisi’s eyes went wide in protest and he reached out to pull you back but you shook your head at him. Looking down to Ronny and Logan, you were staring down the barrel of a gun, hands raised as Ronny stood frozen, not expecting you to be so stupid probably. You got that a lot.
“Hey Ronny, hey Logan, my name’s Y/N, I’m a detective with the Chicago police department,” you told them, keeping your hands where he could see them at all times. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Carisi with his finger on the trigger, ready to jump in if this got out of hand.
“Don’t come any closer!” Ronny waved the gun in his hand at you.
“I won’t,” you told him, “okay, I just want to talk okay? See if we can figure this out huh, so how about you tell me what happened?” Make him think you understand him, sympathise with him, make him think your on his side and let his guard down, de-escalate the situation.
“He’s my son, but she wouldn’t let me have him, wouldn’t even let me see him when I was inside, and when I got out... a restraining order?! What gave her the right? No... no no no, so I took him, I took what was mine and I came here, O’Connell promised- he promised!” Ronny ranted as you tried to keep your features neutral as images of the beat down he’d done to his ex wife flashed through your head.
“He lied to you, broke that promise,” you prodded, trying to sound indignant on his behalf so he’d open up more.
“Yes! Said there was too much publicity, he wouldn’t risk getting us out the country, I mean the selfishness- I did what I had to do,” He told you, gun lowering slightly as he poured out some of his frustration.
You inched yourself forward a step, then another, noticing Carisi practically stop breathing from where he stood, completely alert and ready to step in.
“And he shouldn’t have done that, okay, I get it, you’re the victim here alright, so why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about that huh,” you tried, “it’s clear you love your son okay? Look at him Ronny, look at how scared he is.”
Ronny glanced down at his boy as you took the chance to take another couple of small steps. He was shaking and pale, snot and tears covering his face as his bottom lip shook uncontrollably.
“No!” Ronny snapped, gun back up at you as Logan shrunk back in fear, “you’re scaring him, this is all you!”
You level your breathing and straightened up, “I’m not the one holding a gun Ronny,” you said with a scary calm, watching the realisation dawn on Ronny as he looked from the gun in hand, to his son, who was staring at the weapon with trepidation.
“I...” he floundered. Was he a monster? Yes, but every monster had a weakness.
“Give me the gun Ronny,” you told him as he glanced from it to you, not really registering how much closer to him you had been in the beginning.
“You’ll take me back to jail, I can’t go back to jail,” he muttered, but the gun looked suddenly very heavy in his outstretched hand as he weighed the decision in his mind.
You were very close to him now, so close that what happened next was too quick for Carisi to react to. Logan took that moment to bolt, his father’s grip on him slacking enough for him to break free as he ran past you to try and get away. You didn’t blame him for a second, if you were his age you would have done the same thing, you’d even been anticipating it.
So when Ronny’s focus snapped back, rage filling his eyes again as he now viewed you as someone else trying to keep him from his son, grip tightening back on his gun again with a new found purpose as he began to take aim, you were ready.
Carisi barely had time to step out from around the corner, gun raised but unable to take a clear shot as a small boy collided with him, hiding behind his legs as his father let out a cry of anger.
Ronny was fast, but you were faster, catching his wrist and twisting it around so you ended up behind him, his arm behind his back as you aimed a kick to the back of one of his knees, knocking him to the ground. Ronny tried to twist but you was it coming, shoving him forward so he lost balance and sprawled onto his front on the floor. You kicked the gun across the floor and out of his reach, planting your knee on his back as he struggled, grappling with his wrists as you cuffed him.
“Ronny Parker, you’re under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder,” you told him, looking up and grinning at a relieved Carisi just as the glorious sound of sirens could be heard approaching from down the street.
Carisi put a comforting hand on Logan’s head as he continued to hug the man’s knees, shaking his head at your actions as you hauled the protesting Ronny to his feet.
Logan looked away as his father was brought past him, struggling to get away from you as you held him fast.
“That was... reckless,” Carisi commented, earning a smug wink from you as you passed Ronny off to a couple of uniforms that had arrived on the scene, the rest of Intelligence and SVU in tow.
“It’s her middle name,” you heard Antonio say, turning to see him approaching with Voight and Benson, who carefully coaxed Logan away from Carisi’s legs.
“Well Logan’s safe and Ronny’s going back to jail for a long time, good job guys,” Benson congratulated you both.
“Honestly Cap? All her,” Carisi told her, gesturing with his head in your direction as Antonio clapped you on the back. You put your hands in your pockets, accepting the praise as you tried to cover up the fact that your hands were shaking.
“Good job detective, you ever consider a change of scenery you let me know,” Benson told you.
“You trying to poach my detectives?” Voight asked and Benson chuckled, saying something to a uniform before Logan was escorted back to a vehicle. He seemed a little reluctant, but at the mention of his mom he couldn’t have moved quicker if he’d tried.
You smiled as you watched Logan wander off, back to his family and his home. You wanted to go with him, but you knew you’d have a lot of paperwork to do before the night was actually over, and it was already past 3 am.
“Hey,” Carisi appeared beside you as he removed his vest, “want a ride back to the station?”
You took a breath of the not so cool night air, sweaty from the heat and the chase, in desperate need of some food and a shower, then sleep. But you weren’t finished just yet, so you gave an appreciative nod to Carisi and let Voight know that you were going to make your statement and write up your report.
He let you go and soon you were making your way down the street with Carisi, back to your car near the bar, which was currently swarming with police and forensics. Carisi greeted a few of them in passing and before you knew it you were driving back to the district.
“Your gut was right afterall,” Carisi noted. You’d found Logan, he was safe, and Ronny wasn’t going to ever be able to hurt him again. It had been a long night, but you’d done good, so you allowed yourself a moment of satisfaction.
“Hell of a night, but yeah I guess so,” you replied, staring off out of the window as the buildings and lights passed by. New York was something else, and you wished you’d gotten a chance to see more of it under better circumstances, and during the day, but it had certainly been memorable.
Your hands weren’t shaking quite so much anymore, but jumping in front of a man with a loaded gun had certainly rattled you more than you’d let on. It had been reckless, more so than usual, but your need to protect Logan and get Ronny behind bars had overridden that bit of sense. It had paid off this time, but you really did have to be more careful, or so Antonio kept telling you.
You turned back from the window when you noticed Carisi throw you a couple of glances as he drove. “You know, there’s a pizza place not too far from here, they’re not gourmet, but they are open this time of night.”
Before you could answer, your stomach growled, earning a laugh from Carisi as he changed course, discussing the best toppings as he did.
Soon, you were both back at his desk at the district, a couple of others had came and went, offering pats on the back for a job well done, but you and Carisi found yourself talking even further into the night until both the paperwork and pizza were done, feeling very satisfied.
“I’ll be the first to admit this isn’t the truest representation of the best New York pizza,” Carisi laughed, throwing on his jacket as you both got up to leave.
It was going on half 4 in the morning, and any food and drink you had after dark hit differently, especially after a long case on a nearly empty stomach. “You won’t hear me complaining,” you replied.
God, you needed a shower, you thought as you put your jacket over your arm, knowing that it would just feel way too uncomfortable and hot to put it on. Voight had booked you all into some cheap motels for the night, but the picture Vanessa had sent you earlier on was making you dread the experience. Carisi had visibly cringed when he’d seen it.
“I know I should probably head to sleep when I get home, but I’m still a little too wired,” Carisi said as you made your way towards the exit.
“I know what you mean,” you told him, eyes and mind still wide awake after the events of the night.
“What, not looking forward to getting back to your five star accommodation?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.
“God don’t remind me,” you complained, earning a laugh at your expense, “but it’s either that or sleep on the street... though the street might actually be more appealing.”
A odd kind of silence filled the elevator then, neither of you seeming to know what to say next before the doors dinged open and you wandered out back into the night, or well, more like very early morning.
“You could... stay somewhere else?” Carisi offered, half awkwardly half suggestively. Was he, suggesting what you thought he was?
Your heart skipped a beat, taking in Carisi as he stood before you, a look on his face that definitely told you he was unsure of whether he should have said that or not. You were still wired, and you’d had half a mind to do a quick workout back at the motel to let off some more steam to try and take a grimey shower and sleep, but that was before you now had another option...
“Lead the way,” you answered, smiling as he did too, your night in New York continuing to surprise you in the best possible ways...
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doux-amer · 3 years
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Okay, so I no longer have the energy to discuss Marvel stuff at length, but I enjoyed Black Widow, to my surprise. I went in with low expectations, but it ended up being solid. Was it a groundbreaking movie? No. But I’d rank it as one of the best MCU films and it felt like a nice change of pace from your standard MCU fare. The film avoided prioritizing action over character arcs and didn't interrupt the story with unnecessary and often distracting humor.  It's become increasingly obvious over recent years just how much the MCU has started to suffer from what made it unique and innovative in the first place—an interconnected cinematic universe. Everything feels like it's a stepping stone to some big event (hah, in that way, it's emulating the comics well), with characters's stories hastily and sloppily pushed aside for The Main Team Event TM. 
And that's why Black Widow worked. It didn't have world-ending stakes. It wasn't about one Big Bad (the big bad in this story, much like in CA:TWS, is the system which is why the "main boss" didn't have to be impressive and intimidating on his own). The story felt quiet and contemplative in between the action scenes. It was very intimate and the story benefited tremendously from that. What happened in this movie was something that would mean very little to anyone other than the people directly involved and would go unnoticed. 
This isn't something that the whole world will know about and praise her for, and no one treats it as such, both in terms of the characters and the people behind the film. With the exception of a few lines and moments, this film isn't cringeworthy, in-your-face, and ultimately shallow GIRL POWER GIRLBOSS OMG FEMINISM which Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman (and that one stupid as hell scene in IW) both leaned into and imo, were either hindered by or even suffered from. This story is very much one about the patriarchy, misogyny, agency, etc., but it tries to see what the personal ramifications are and how sickening and even banal it all is. It’s about how the world works and treats women, no matter who they are. It’s about how Dreykov, for all his power, is a dime a dozen. The world made it possible for men like Dreykov to exist and do harm. The world goes on without him there, and in the wake of his death and the destruction of the Red Room, his victims still have to deal with all the pain and figure out what they want to do, how they want to do it, and who they want to be afterwards.
Obviously, we also got to see more of Natasha and who she is, what makes her tick, and how her past formed the person she is now. And yes, I dislike Scarjo so I was ready to not care about the movie, but god, I love Natasha and miss her so badly. I ended up unexpectedly crying when the film started and didn't stop until the opening credits ended, not even because something was sad but because that was Natasha! When kid Natasha whipped out her gun and shielded Yelena, I recognized both that skill and heart instantly and it hit me hard. You got that repeatedly throughout the film, and it knits together all the little pieces of Natasha we got throughout the decade. It gives her consistency and strengthens what we already know drives her: her desire to atone and protect and her yearning for a family.
The supporting cast was good too. You could tell they had fun and you could tell they had the acting chops. I get very leery of actors who go over the top in the MCU because almost all the time, it ends up backfiring and undermining their character, but David Harbour had a lot of fun with Alexei and it never bothered me. And I think that's because, behind all of the bombast, there was real emotion behind it that he took seriously and the others did as well. Rachel Weisz...I mean, I don't think I need to say anything more. You expect her to be good and of course she was. And Florence? Yes, this might not be 616 Yelena in many, many ways and I can see how that's upsetting to people (this applies to the Taskmaster as well), but if you see MCU Yelena as her own person, man. Florence overshadows Scarjo which, well, isn't surprising considering her brilliance, but I will say, though, that part of it is because Yelena is a much more energetic character whereas Natasha is more introverted and even a little awkward and shy at times. 
I loved the relationships and they all felt real to me. When they said they were a family? I believed them. When you saw them grapple with what they'd done in the past and what they did to each other and to other people? That felt real too. 
And the action scenes! Wow, did I miss actually good fight choreography after three horrible shows full of goofy af fight scenes that had bad choreography and were terribly shot (the less we talk about Loki, the better, though TFATWS, which probably should have had the slickest shots had by far the worst cinematography). The fights were engaging and you really sensed the urgency and danger in every fight. I felt like Natasha was in danger, that she would get hurt. The hits HURT and you could tell how painful that walloping was (with the exception of the ridiculous scene where Dreykov punched her repeatedly in the face and there was no sign of impact). Everyone felt very human and very easy to break. 
The flow was great and maybe it was slow for some people, but I liked that. I liked that the story took its time to unfold. I liked that you didn't sense any impatience or panic. Everything happened in its own time, but it never dragged for me. There was a great balance between emotional, quiet moments and bursts of action, and neither felt like they undermined the other, a frequent issue I have with MCU works (yet again, one of the best examples and most recent ones is Loki; I hated the fight sequences because they felt so unnecessary and they truly disrupted the flow of things).
Were there things that I wish we got more of or thought could have been tightened up better? Yeah. I wish we got to see more of the Widows, for one thing. I also think it would have been interesting for Natasha to mull over the brainwashing she had versus what Yelena went through; what Yelena went through was much worse and similar to what Bucky went through, but Yelena has the excuse of being a victim with little to no free will whereas Natasha? She was psychologically messed with, but she wasn't being mind controlled. It would've been interesting to see that explored more in depth. I wish we got to see more of the Taskmaster. Etc. etc.
More than anything, though, what left me sad and disappointed after my initial joy and feeling of enjoyment dissipated, was the fact that this came too late. This is a movie that should have come right after CW, and we should have gotten a Black Widow movie right after the Avengers and before TWS or at least after TWS. This is, by far, the most unanimous take and it makes me wonder how everyone at Marvel feels about that, that this is, more than anything, the opinion that's being echoed consistently amongst reviewers and moviegoers alike. And it will never ever ever ever ever fail to piss me off that Markus, McFeely, and the Russos didn't know the Black Widow movie was going to even happen and they ended up offing her. That's a massive decision and I don't know, MAYBE you should have had some more communication! Maybe if that happened, Natasha wouldn't have been fridged (she shouldn't have been in the first place, and one of the things I deeply appreciated about this movie was that it pushed back on the wrongs that male directors and writers have done to her (e.g., Whedon's awful approach to her forced sterilization in AoU, the Russos and M&M saying Clint couldn't die because he had a family as if someone who isn't a parent is less important and less deserving to live and as if Natasha's relationships didn't matter)). Maybe we would have gotten more solo movies with her. We can still get more BW movies, sure, but Natasha herself deserved more. 
And that's why, despite thinking this is one of the best movies of the MCU even if the story itself isn't particularly sensational and not being blown away by it (again, I didn't think it was impressive, but I thought it was very solid), despite being pleasantly surprised by the fact that I enjoyed a MCU movie which is rare for me and walking away with barely anything to be disappointed about let alone upset about, despite thinking that this is the story Natasha deserved and being relieved and happy that this is what she got and this is how she's going to go out, I was still left sad for what could have been and what she deserved. 
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finallyaniguana · 4 years
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[27] get to the point and fast (but not fast enough)
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masterpost        ao3
[26]         [28]
After that whole show in the LG, Marinette was tense and on edge. She didn't appreciate the flippant way they spoke about him. Maybe they were right, but she felt a surge of possessive protectiveness she couldn't cut down. So, stiff she sat all through free time and the subsequent dinner, choosing to skip the spar between her and Adrien after. Her platonic soulmate simply brushed it off, attributing the snub to the bad mood she had picked up during the club meeting.
She ignored most of her friend's attempts to start a conversation, giving only short, stilted answers. Her friends, bless them, weren't getting mad at her for this, picking up on the fact that something is bothering her. Adrien elected to bring it up later,when she was ready to talk.
"Hey, Mari?"
She turned away from her door, hand pulling away from the handle.
"I was wondering if you'd still be okay with sharing a room with me? I don't think I can stand this for two more weeks," Alya grimaced.
A tiny bit of tension melted off Marinette's shoulders. Managing a smile, she nodded.
"Of course, Alya. We'll talk to Mlle. Bustier tomorrow and get all your stuff moved after school. How about that?"
Alya perked up.
"Hell yeah, girl! I can't wait to be your roommate!"
Alya turned away to enter the room she unfortunately shared with Lila, still smiling.
'Another thing I'll have to tell Robin about.'
The first thing she did when she got into her room and shut the door was to throw open one curtain. Just the one over the window where Robin would enter. She then cracked the window slightly, so he could easily open it from the outside. Once she was satisfied with her work there, she dug around in her carry on bag for the cookie stash she had brought just for Tikki. She  passed one to the Kwamii, who happily accepted it.
"You can't let it get to you," she whispered.
Tikki looked over to her chosen, who now stood in front of the bathroom mirror but stared down into the sink. She flew over to her, resting lightly on her shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
Marinette heaved a great sigh before walking back out into the bedroom.
"It's just... the things those students were saying about him, you know? They all made him out to be this... I don't know, what's the best word? Mean? Mean person, and I just... i don't know, Tikki."
Tikki nodded sagely, surely about to pull on some timeless and encouraging knowledge from like.. a million years ago.
"You'll just have to form your own opinion about him and disregard everyone else. He can't be all bad!"
'Okay, so not nearly as.. encouraging as I hoped for,' she pouted.
Another benefit to having the window slightly open (other than the obvious soulmate entry point), was the fact that Tikki would know exactly when to hide. It was the telltale sound of metal cord in track, the same sound her yo-yo makes when she's zipping between buildings. Or any of the bats' grappling hooks to be perfectly technical. The next sound being a window sliding open. Quickly, she schooled her expression and went to face her soulmate.
As soon as his boots hit the floor, she started to relax a little. Neither of them could quite put their finger on it, but they felt... comfortable.
"Robin," she smiled.
He inclined his head in response, which Marinette could only assume was his version of a warm greeting. He was certainly one of the most difficult people to read she'd ever met. Over time, she'd have to really work at learning and understanding his body language if she really wanted to know her soulmate.
Robin got to work at pulling the arm chair over to where it was only just in view of Red Robin, today's chaperone. It was all he could do to avoid his brother's interested gaze. Once settled, Marinette cross legged on the end of her bed, Robin opened his mouth to say something. Whatever it is seemed to have dissipated into the air because he immediately closed his mouth again.
"What can you tell me about yourself?" Marinette threw out there.
He pondered for a moment what was safe to say.
"I'm a vegetarian."
That seemed innocent enough. Could be anybody under that mask. Yes, very convincing.
"Oh, fun! Have you always been or is it recent...?" she trailed off a little.
"A few years now."
Due to the mask, Marinette unfortunately was unable to see Damian wrestling with whether or not he can say what he's about to say. Ultimately, he bites the bullet and just says it.
"Your parents are bakers?"
Nevermind the fact that he probably shouldn't know that yet. Marinette knew that the Bats were supposed to be detectives. She was far from stupid. It was completely expected that he would do as much research as he could on her going into it, especially given that some random stranger had now seen the inside of the Batcave and had no idea what Nightwing had said while he was away. So, him knowing things? Not worrying.
"Yes! They are."
It was the things he didn't know about that Marinette was worried about.
"What would you say makes your bakery unique among all the others in Paris?"
Alright, cool and collected. Questions clearly planned in advance. She could work with that.
"Hmm, I would probably say our mixture of both my mother and father's technique. For example, rice flour in the bread, instead of just regular flour like my dad had always been taught, gives it a much lighter texture," she answered.
He nodded thoughtfully, but his visible face revealed nothing. Meanwhile, Marinette was starting to get antsy that he hadn't said anything about Adrien. He has to know. His friend had to have told him. Unless he wasn't a friend and just a person that sits with him and he was just asking for no reason other than curiosity and oh no! Now she's about to drop this bomb on him that he wasn't prepared for and he's gonna be really mad and-
'FOCUS, WOMAN.'
"I have a platonic soulmate."
'AND FULL SEND IT IS. CONGRATULATIONS!'
Her normal inner monologue was clearly returning the more time she spent with him. If Damian could only hear it... oof. He'd wonder how the Universe came to this match when looking over all the people of the world (and off world).
The conversation plans he had (but clearly had no idea how to execute) were derailed with this sudden admittance. But, finally he showed a visible emotion. Surprise wasn't really the one she would have gone for but beggars can't be choosers. He didn't respond right away so she kept going.
"His name is Adrien, and he's one of my best friends. It's the glowy kind where when you touch your skin glows. so, it doesn’t show up all the time. It's kinda cool. And it's totally platonic! We are just friends!"
He nodded slowly. He spent a few seconds cramming down any negative feelings towards this guy he'd never even met... well he had, but not as himself so it didn't count. And he knew this was coming, he just didn't realize she'd be so blatant. It was... rather refreshing that she didn't try to hide it. She didn't really know about his track record of jealousy (Lord knows Tim certainly does), so she didn't feel afraid sharing that other connection with him. It was, simply put, nice.
"Okay," was all he said, though, deciding to sort through the more complicated feelings later.
Normally he would have argued with.. well not her. It’s not her fault. But her wide eyes and earnest expression begged him to be okay with this.
“Okay,” he said again.
She seemed positively relieved. Somehow she understood what that okay conveyed - at least in part.
Let’s change the subject, shall we?
"So, since you are a vegetarian, what are your favorite recipes?"
And the conversation went on. For a good bit. Food is a lovely common ground between people trying to get to know each other. The conversation tapered off naturally, having went into the logistics of cooking meat replacements things, which, Marinette frankly knew nothing about.
Both vigilante and civilian were sitting relaxed in their respective spots, a comfortable silence all around them. They hadn't yet been able to just take in their soulmate yet, having the secret identities, sneaking in the window, and a liar knocking on the door to deal with. The next night, Alya would be moving into this room, unable to stand Lila anymore, especially after hearing the full extent of her best friend's rivalry with the girl. Marinette had to be sure to tell Robin that they would have to figure something else out the subsequent nights she would be in Gotham.
It was Marinette that eventually broke the easy silence. She'd managed to get the platonic soulmate situation off her chest, but one, that may be far more pressing, remained.
"Lying by omission is still lying, non?"
He thought for a moment before answering.
"Most people would say that, yes."
Nodding thoughtfully, Marinette gently folded her hands in her lap, taking a second to gather her words before speaking. She was fairly confident she had his identity figured out. By her logic, and his if he considered himself "most people", not telling him what she knew was the same as deceiving him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I hate lying. I'm awful at it, too."
His usually straight expression twitched slightly, probably at the thought of the girl in front of him trying to tell a lie.
"And this is why you do not like Lila Rossi?" he supplied.
Marinette took his slight derailment in stride.
"Among other reasons, but that's not exactly where I'm going with this," she said.
The slight lift of the mask suggested he was raising his eyebrows.
"What is it, then?"
Marinette took in a breath and prayed he wouldn't be too upset.
A quiet but urgent beep interrupted her train of thought. Robin frowned and reached down to look at the offending communicator.
He let out a sound of intense frustration, before looking across to where Red Robin was currently standing, waving him over.
"I'm afraid I must cut this short, Marinette. I am required elsewhere."
He started towards the window.
"Okay, but-"
He looked back, expectant but tense. She backpedaled. She wouldn't be able to function on a mission if someone were to drop an identity compromising anvil on her head, so she wouldn't do it to him either.
"It can wait."
Nodding he said, "See you tomorrow."
And he swung away. She watched as he landed alongside Red Robin, who hardly waited for him to catch his balance before dashing off into the distance. As soon as the two were out of her range of vision, Tikki appeared by her head.
Marinette looked like a thousand pounds had just been added to her shoulders. She threw up her arms in a silent freakout, trying not to alert her room neighbors of her recent strife. Tikki simply shook her head.
"Don't worry, Marinette," she said at her holder's expression. "You'll get another chance tomorrow."
'Tomorrow. Tom- TOMORROW?!'
"Tikki!"
All the blood fell out of her face.
"Alya is moving in here tomorrow after school!" she screeched as loud as she dared. "I cannot believe I forgot to tell him that very vital detail!"
She dropped her face into her hands. Her head popped back up quite fast, Tikki was sure she hurt her neck, and began pacing.
"I have to figure out how to tell him..." she muttered. "Maybe I could leave a note in the window- no, Alya might see it..."
"Marinette."
She kept on mumbling, going over as many options as she could think of to solve this.
"Marinette!"
The kwamii finally got the girl's attention and smiled to soothe her.
"You go to school with him. You'll just have to send the message that way."
"... yes! Okay, okay, so tomorrow after class I will go find Alya - she's in his class right? - and I ask her about moving in... yeah! That'll work! Thank you, Tikki, you're a lifesaver."
She collapsed on the bed, suddenly drained after her panic.
"Okay. I have a plan. Everything will be fine."
***
Okay unlike the last few times, i kinda have most of the next chapter written already so the wait shouldnt be nearly as long
Thank you all for the continued feedback and support! I really appreciate all of you ❤
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baby-grayson · 4 years
Text
Sweet Enigma|Part 9
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tw: pregnancy and mental health discussions
//
Kate didn’t tell Grayson she was pregnant. At least, not that night. The emotional blows and exhaustive moments had knocked her around more than the tide had when she splashed into the ocean. She left the triage room and Dr.Ocasio as if she was leaving the trenches of a battle: moving, but feeling emptier on the inside (despite sharing her body with the fledgling traces of a new life). She was quiet as she slumped beside Grayson in the car ride back to his place. Tired and angry, he chattered on about paperwork and the nurse’s demeanor as a distraction from the searing hatred burning in his heart that was oxygenated by Sherry’s actions. Not yet ready to face that emotional storm, he settled on ranting about the hospital while Kate leaned her head against the windowsill and gently thumbed her hip, wearing a pensive look framed by dark eye bags and sullen skin.  
She followed Grayson into his bedroom when they got home. He waved his hands madly in the air while he continued to rant. She dropped onto his bed, surrendering to the events of the night and instantly wanting to fall asleep and retreat the craziness that had become her life. 
Grayson looked when she sighed audibly. He stopped ranting and laced his lips together, going dry at the mouth. “Hey,” he started softly as he went to sit next to her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the side of her head, “I’m sorry...bunny” he mumbled the word with his lips pressed to her skin. 
She tried to feign a smile but instead only lifted her mouth and let it fall again, as if it was weighted down by the tons of stress and trauma she wore from the past few weeks. She leaned into Grayson, letting her hair fall over his shoulder as she nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, letting her fall into his form and feel the warmth emanating from his body. She closed her eyes against his skin, letting her body relax as she gently played with her fingers against him. 
In that moment, Grayson smelled the salt of the ocean on her hair. He would have liked to say that the scent reminded me of the stresses of the night: her sweet, citrus scent overpowered by the storm they had weathered together. In all honesty, he recoiled slightly at the smell of fish and sweat. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, “Go take a shower, I’ll get your pajamas out of your bag.” 
Kate nodded softly before dragging herself up to a standing position and moving into his on-suite bathroom. She slid off Grayson’s jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the bathroom counter. She let her dress drop to the floor, kicking it aside. She turned on Grayson’s shower and sat on the marble bench, letting the water fall on her from above. She leaned back and rested on the bench, trying her best not to think about anything. 
She laid naked and wet: her body housing two lives but feeling dead inside. 
Grayson unbuttoned his shirt while sulking out of his bedroom and into the living room, where Kate’s backpack was still slung over the couch from yesterday morning. He started to shimmy out of the shirt when he looked up and spotted Ethan at the kitchen island, sitting next to their assistant, Isla. Isla was a full-figured, curvy Latina who spoke in a pointed, but caring manner. Her namesake was forever imprinted as a tattoo sleeve on her right arm and by a signature blue streak of hair in the front of her face. 
“Hey,” Grayson’s tone was low while he approached his brother. 
“You’re welcome,” Ethan’s tone was flat and his eyes were too tired to fully commit to the joke. 
Grayson looked from Ethan to Isla and back to Ethan, “For what?” 
“For saving your--your” Ethan held a a hand in the direction of Grayson’s bedroom and waved it, trying to find a word to describe Gray and Kate’s relationship.  “-amor” Isla finished his sentence with a delicate smirk.
Ethan snapped his fingers in her direction and nodded, “Thank you.” 
Grayson rolled his eyes slightly, “How are you holding up?” He leaned over the counter next to Isla. 
“Damp” Ethan replied emphatically. 
Grayson let out a laugh that partially relieved him of the invisible weight on his shoulders. His laugh slowly quieted until the room was silent once more: Isla, Ethan, and Grayson sneaking awkward glances at each other. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Grayson said before sighing, “What are we even supposed to do about this?” He was speaking louder than he would have liked, ever the booming presence in a room. 
“Well you could--” “You should--” Ethan and Isla spoke over each other. 
“Sorry,” Isla whispered. 
“No you go,” Ethan started. 
Isla shook her head softly and fiddled with her phone in her hands. 
“We need to do something about Sherry,” Ethan started, “I’ll call the legal team in the morning.” 
Grayson nodded and locked his jaw, “Is that just another add on to what happened to Kate’s apartment?” 
Ethan gave a defeated shrug “Dunno- but have they even tied that back to her?” 
“Who else would it be?” Grayson didn’t hide his anger.
“You know Gray,” Ethan started, “There are a lot of people who don’t like her- Kate- right now.” He sighed and gave another surrendered shrug, “She didn’t exactly give the world the best impression.”
Grayson huffed, “I know” he stated. He wanted to add: and that’s my fault. He was torn up by the fact that so many people openly hated the woman who single handedly brought happiness back into his life. He was utterly confused, caught in a rabbit hole of doubt and anger: wondering if he would ever wake up from this nightmare and angry at himself for bringing only dark clouds to Kate, when she radiated in his eyes. 
By the time Grayson got to bed that night, Kate was already laying there. She was draped in one of his old sweatshirts and resting on top of the covers. Grayson tried his best to slide into the covers and pull her near him while staying silent. Little did he know, she was very much awake. In the dark, she didn’t even try to close her eyes.
The low grumble of Grayson’s snores did not lull her to sleep. On the contrary, they amplified the anxious voices inside of her: crying out about her life, her baby, her family, Grayson, Sherry, boats, nighttime, splashes, treading water, and washing away. She broke out in a cold sweat, the events of the night echoing in her head. 
If sleep washed a layer of relief on Grayson’s soul, waking up energized him to seek a vengeance for the day before. He looked at Kate, who’s eyelashes were fluttering against her cheekbones while her mouth sat in a frown. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and used a large arm to grapple her into his chest and start placing a series of soft kisses on her head. He didn’t check to see her frown fade, “G’morning beautiful”
“Morning Gray,” her voice sounded almost hoarse. 
“You sound sleepy,” he nuzzled his face against her soft dark hair. 
She shrugged, “I’m still tired.” She conveniently left out the part about not sleeping a week. 
“Stay in bed while I take a shower,” Grayson smiled against her hair before placing a final kiss on the crown of her head.
It was only once she heard the patter of Grayson’s shower again the marble bathroom floor that she finally closed her eyes and relinquished her body to it’s exhausted state.
She slept until the late afternoon, waking up to a dry mouth and a disoriented mind. Grayson was long gone, running between meetings and phone calls while trying to quell the chaos of the night before.
She lifted herself from bed and trudged into the bathroom where she smoothed out her hair in the mirror. She looked at her own face: wondering if that girl was ready to be a mother. Wondering if that girl could be a mother.
The fear of being recognized in public was not enough to stop her from ordering an Uber to the nearest drug store, where she promptly bought a box of pregnancy tests to verify what the emergency room doctor had told her.
She tiptoed into the house, the plastic of the shopping bag peaking out of her purse while she swiftly moved into Grayson’s bathroom. She was somewhat thankful that Grayson was working late and wrapped up in the chaos of their lives.She turned the lock on the bathroom door, not wanting to risk being caught.
Any good scientist knows the key to valid data is reproducibility: an experiment is no good if it can only be done once. The general rule of thumb, was to preform trials in triplicate to prove validity. Ever the doting, committed scientist, Kate took six pregnancy tests that night.
She stood, staring at the counter and her six positive tests staring up at her. They were daunting. Almost fearsome. Staring at her like a small army ready to attack.
She cupped her face in her hands, deciding that it was real: that it was true.
She heard Grayson enter his bedroom before he knocked on the bathroom door, “You in there?”
“Yeah! Just a minute” She did the smartest thing she could think of and quickly slid all six tests into her purse, not knowing how and when she would dispose of them. She looked in the mirror again, wondering if she looked difference: if housing a child had already started its barrage of physical changes on her body. Could Grayson tell?
She hoped not.
Grayson was emptying his pockets on his nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed when she creeped out of the bathroom, “Hey,” he started, not even looking up at her as he tossed his wallet near his lamp. 
Even Kate’s anxious mind could see the physical signs of exhaustion on Grayson’s face: heavy lidded eyes, a low mouth, and distinct creases on his forehead. She sat next to him, “Hey,” she started quietly. 
Grayson sighed before he looked at the floor as he spoke, “Talked to Joe and Rob about what happened--” 
“Who are Joe and Rob?”
“Oh- uh manager and lawyer-”
“-right.” Kate gave a small nod. She bit the corner of her mouth and decided against asking anymore questions: lest she be faced with all of the details she didn’t know about Grayson’s life. Should she feel guilty for being pregnant by a man and not knowing the name of his manager? Internal, she shuddered and reflected on just how weird a place Hollywood was, to make her ask such a question. 
If Grayson could sense her inner struggle, he didn’t show it. Instead, he droned on for a few minutes about assault, battery, nautical laws, and the California jurisdiction. Kate gave small nods and folded her lips whenever he would look up to get her reaction. 
“It’s a lot,” Grayson leaned his upper body down against the bed. He wrapped his face in his hands and moved his fingers through his hair, “I feel like I just went to law school in a day- I- this is crazy.” 
“It is,” Kate’s voice was small and her posture erect as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap. 
She jumped at the feeling of two large arms folding around her and Grayson leaning his head against her shoulder, “I’m so sorry bunny,” his voice was low. “I-I-” he sighed again and squeezed her tiny frame, “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Kate’s posture didn’t falter. 
Grayson cleared his throat before saying the next part, slowly and deliberately, “After the break in-- the one that happened before we met-- I was really freaked out. Didn’t sleep for nearly a month. I felt like my even my own mind wasn’t safe anymore. The point is, I went to a therapist a few times. Talked a lot out and I think it really helped me. And this isn’t me sending you to someone else, I’m here for you, wholly, with everything you need. But if you need more” he reached out to hold her hand in his, “I’m by your side always.” 
Kate’s lips slipped into a smile for the first time all day, “Thank you Grayson.” 
He squeezed her hand once more, “We’ll get through this together mama.”
She stiffened in his arms, “What?!” 
“Sorry,” he let out a low chuckle. He rolled his eyes softly at an angle she couldn’t see, “bunny.” he corrected with a loving but mocking tone, “I should know better, I’ll get better I promise.”
Kate gave a small nod before falling back onto the bed. 
The second night mimicked the first, with Grayson snoring like a lion on the prowl and Kate rolling around, trying to find a space that felt comfortable enough to lull her to sleep but failing to find it within herself. How could someone sleep when their soul was too busy operating on decisions that would change their lifetime? 
She feigned sleep while Grayson slipped out in the morning. She closed her eyes while he bent down to kiss her cheek and whispered, “Sweet Dreams.” Before she head the sound of the door close behind him. 
She felt guiltier, that second morning. Once the door creaked shut, she instantly remembered the sullen and long face Grayson gave when he came home the night before. She felt guilty that he was out, fighting her battles and trying to protect her, in a mess of paperwork and legal times, his least favorite things in the world, while she got to stay home and contemplate their love child. 
She felt twisted about the fact that this thought made her happy. In a weird way, it proved Grayson’s committment to her, his dedication, and his faith to whatever they had. It calmed some of her nerves that he would be the future father of her child. 
Her musings were interrupted by a slurry of emails from her advisor: asking where she was, if she was okay, what was happening. They made her head spin. She felt that the fabric of her mind was being invaded by the complex task of balancing her personal future with the future of her own career and well being. Surely, she hadn’t wanted a child. But now that one was in her sights, and literally in her, maybe it was somehow fated to be this way. 
She shut her phone off entirely in an effort to delete the emails. 
She threw on one of Grayson’s wakeheart t-shirts and a pair of sweat pants and pattered out into the kitchen for a meal. The hardwood felt cold against her toes. She picked a banana out of the fruit bowl and opened a cabinet, in search of peanut butter when she heard a thumping noise coming from the other side of the house. 
She dropped her banana. It bounced against the floor. Her mouth went dry. She picked up a pan from the top of the stove and held it at an angle in front of her and she stalked forward. She slowly pushed open the door to Ethan’s room: unsettled by the fact that it was already ajar. She knitted her brow together, still hearing a beating sound coming from his bathroom. Against her better judgement, she opened the door a crack, motivated by the fear of an intruder, and peered through the space between the door and the door frame. 
She jumped back and immediately closed the door. From her crevice, she could see Ethan firmly, strongly, and expertly pounding the plump ass of a girl from inside of her shower, where a strand of blue hair bounced around as she picked her head up to say his name. 
Kate blushed and pressed her back against the wall of Ethan’s bedroom. Feeling embarrassed about the whole situation. She quietly tiptoed out of his room and brought the pan back to the kitchen while reflecting on the ordeal. She was paranoid, afraid of monsters in the closet and scenarios she was building in her head: not real fears, fears that her mind was making up to keep her from enjoying the life that was being laid out in front of her. 
She turned on Grayson’s own shower and quickly rinsed off, hoping the water and his Wakeheart bodywash would help wash away the negativity from her psyche and the embarrassment from the last 20 minutes. 
She wrapped herself in Grayson’s large, cotton bathrobe and sat cross legged on his bed. She pulled her laptop from her backpack and began writing to her advisor, requesting a meeting to explain the timeline for the rest of her doctoral program. She took a breath before pressing send. 
Grayson came home that night looking like more of a wreck than the night before. He slumped himself on the bed and rested his head on her lap while Kate gently brushed his hair away from his face. “Long day?” 
“Yeah,” Grayson mumbled and nuzzled his face into her midsection. 
She sucked in her top lip and sat up straighter, “Want to talk about it?” 
He shook his head, “No,” he sighed and opened his eyes to look at her, “It’ll all change tomorrow anyway.” 
Kate didn’t want to ask what that meant.  
He held her hand from where he leaned on her, “What about you? What did you do today?” 
She swallowed hard, touching her tongue to the outside of her lips and exhaling before speaking. “Actually Grayson--” she took a deep breath mid-sentence, “There is something I wanted to tell you.” 
He raised his eyebrows curiously while she wished she wondered how fast she could run across the room and pull out the half a dozen pregnancy tests from the night before. She looked him in the eye, ever the direct speaker, “I’m pregnant.”
When Grayson’s mouth gaped slightly she added, “It’s yours.” 
Grayson shot up, lifting his head from her lap and sitting up straight, “You’re pregnant?” At first, his voice held nothing but pure shock but it faded quickly into something happy. 
Kate nodded surely, not letting a smile hit her lips. This was a factual conversation. 
Grayson had started to flash a grin but quickly lost it when he looked her in the eye to ask, “Do you want to keep it?” 
She maintained composure, “I do.” 
Grayson’s entire face lit up. In a swift move, he jumped from the bed and began pacing around the room in front of Kate, waving his arms joyously in the air and starting sentences without endings about family, his mother, Kate, this year, the baby, him being a father. Kate could barely keep up with him, so she giggled and smiled at him: appreciating every ounce of whimsical, loving energy that was Grayson Dolan. 
He made a sharp turn on his heel, stopping his arms from waving, “Do you want to--” he licked his lips as his face quickly transformed from happiness to anxiety, “Do you want me to-to-to marrryyeee you?” Kate didn’t know what word got so many extra letters.
She shook her head, “I uh- I didn’t think about that but I don’t think it’s” she moved her eyes from side to side, “necessary?” 
Grayson nodded, “Right.” He bit his bottom lip and looked at her with large, kind brown eyes. He stared straight into her big brown eyes and saw the same gold flecks he noticed that day on the beach. She was his girl, his soul knew it. “I could still, ask you to marry me?” If she was the say yes, he would have dropped to his knee in that moment and started an impromptu speech about everything she meant to him. If she were to say yes, he would have changed everything in his life to make her as comfortable as possible. She was everything he wanted in his life, and now she was caring for a child that was nothing but the proof that they were destined to be together. 
But at the offer of a proposal, Kate shot up from the bed and took Grayson’s hands into hers. She took a deep breath, “No Grayson. I don’t want that.” She wanted to say that they weren’t even actually dating, but that would break Grayson’s heart at the moment it was most full: so she didn’t. Instead she opted for pulling body close to his, so he could get drunk on her sweet citrus scent and saying, “I don’t need a boyfriend, or a fiance, or a husband.” His eyes held onto something sad before she added, “What I need, is a partner,” she squeezed his hands, “I need you to be my partner Grayson.”
He squeezed her hands before giving her a slow, gentle kiss and letting his lips rest on hers warmly before pulling back, “You’ve got me bunny.” He placed another kiss on her forehead. 
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loveisnotadagger · 3 years
Text
Love Is Healing - Chapter Seven
Chapter 7/?
Rated: T
Pairing: Loki/OFC
Arianna jolted awake when she heard the alarm signaling that someone had broken into the tower. She looked around her room, relieved to see that no one had broken in there, at least, before hopping out of bed.
SHIELD training involved having to learn to wake up under any and all circumstances, so Arianna was alert within seconds. She crept to her door, still in her pajamas, and opened the door slightly.
There was nothing in the hallway her room was located in, but it seemed that Loki had been alerted by the alarm too, because he was also peeking through a crack in his doorway.
"What's happening?" he whispered.
"I don't know. Someone's here. The others will be looking as well."
Arianna went past Loki's room and was surprised when he grabbed her wrist. She looked at him and was shocked to see the concern on his face.
"What?"
"I'll come with you," he said. "I can fight. You said that you don't know how."
"No, but someone might get hurt, and I can help with that."
"Then maybe you should wait. You do not want to be caught in the crossfire."
Loki's logic made sense. She would probably only get in the way. She didn't know how to fight at all, and she didn't have a weapon. Logically, she knew she should go back into her room and lock the door behind her, let the others deal with whatever this was, but she couldn't.
"Loki, they're my friends. I have to go."
She gently withdrew her wrist from his grip and continued down the hallway towards the main room. When she got there, she noticed nothing out of place aside from the fact that Natasha, Clint, and Steve were in the middle of the room. They were all in their pajamas, but they each had a weapon: Natasha a dagger; Clint his bow and a quiver full of arrows; Steve his shield.
"Jarvis? What's going on?" Arianna asked.
When she didn't get an answer, she looked to the three Avengers in the middle of the room.
"What's going on?"
"Jarvis is offline," Natasha said. "Has been since we tried contacting Tony a few minutes ago."
"Where is Tony?"
"In the lab with Banner."
"We have to get to them," Steve said. "Right now we're divided and they're only two people."
"One is not technically just a person," Loki said. "Banner is more than capable of protecting himself and Stark."
"Hate to say it," Clint said. "But he's right."
"You'd be surprised how often that happens."
Arianna would've smiled at how open Loki was being at the moment, but it just so happened that that was the moment that the window looking out over the balcony was broken into as several people crashed through it. There were about six people in all, dressed in black, with guns. One of them launched a smoke bomb into the middle of the room, and the Avengers plus Loki covered their mouths as smoke filled the room.
Arianna dropped to the floor and began crawling in the direction of what she hoped was the hallway where her bedroom was located. She'd lost sight of the others, but she could hear them coughing and moving around. She was coughing too, dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Before Arianna could get far someone grabbed her ankle and dragged her backwards. She let out a small yelp of surprise and then an even bigger scream as she felt whoever it was grasp her shoulders and yank her to her feet.
A gloved hand covered her mouth and she tensed as her mind filled with panic. Who was this person? What did he or she want? Why had they gone to so much trouble to get in here?
The room was slowly clearing of the smoke and she was still being dragged backwards, towards the shattered window. She could see outlines of the other people now. Most of the people in black had been disarmed by Natasha and Steve, and now they were fighting along with Clint and Loki.
Arianna would have to find a way to free herself, as the others were busy. She did the only thing she knew to do: She lifted herself up and made herself become dead weight in her captor's arms. It threw her captor off balance, and she dropped to her knees to try and scamper away.
She was grabbed by the ankle again, only this time she was able to turn and kick out. The kick landed on the person's abdomen, and a male grunt reached her ears. Then she kicked again just for good measure, but he was ready for her this time and was able to block and catch her leg.
That was when she became aware of the shining silver dagger he was holding and fast arcing towards her thigh. She jerked away enough for his aim not to be completely true, but the blade still sliced through her pajama bottoms and over her skin deep enough for her to feel like fainting from the pain.
Instead, she screamed.
This seemed to cause the man to become angry. He slammed his fist down towards her and she clenched her eyes shut, anticipating the pain she was about to feel. She'd been hit before on missions – and during training – so she knew she could take it even if she would black out for a few seconds.
The blow never landed. In fact, the man's weight had been lifted completely off of her. When she opened her eyes she found out why.
The man that had been about to hit her had been tackled by Loki and they were grappling for the knife now. Loki looked dangerous and angry, but there was none of the insanity he'd displayed a month ago when she'd first seen him.
He knew exactly what he was doing when he finally got the knife and plunged it into the man's side, twisting and yanking it up to insure the man's death.
"I think you'll find the mistake you made was, in fact, hurting her," Loki said, knowing that all who heard it would hear the possessiveness he'd used while speaking.
He watched as the man went limp and stopped breathing. Loki stayed the way he was for a good fifteen seconds before checking for a pulse, and then turned to face Arianna, who had let out another scream, this one of pain.
Natasha and Clint had come to her, and Steve was on his way. The people that had broken in had been killed with arrows or by broken necks. Loki wouldn't be punished then, for killing the one that had hurt Arianna.
Loki went over to the others and knelt beside Arianna, who was not bleeding profusely from the gash in her right thigh. Her usually tan skin was pale now, and her face held an expression of pain.
"Why does she not heal herself?" he wondered out loud.
"She needs a source of energy and she refuses to take it from a human," Natasha said.
Loki, always quick on his feet, said, "The lab. There's plenty of energy down there."
Once the others realized that what he'd said actually made sense, Steve, who Loki still mentally called The Patriotic One, carefully picked Arianna up and they all went to the elevator, Natasha holding the shield now.
"Why did the intruders not cut the power?" Loki asked. "That would've been the smart thing to do."
"Jarvis was cut off," Natasha said. "That's the main security. Whoever broke in first . . . it wasn't the guys we fought or the alarm wouldn't have sounded until they smashed through the window."
"Maybe they hit the lab first," Clint suggested as they all stepped into the elevator.
Loki was surprised that no one said anything against him accompanying them. Then again, everyone was preoccupied with the crying girl in Steve's arms. Arianna didn't seem to be aware of her tears. She was more worried about not jostling her injured leg too much.
Loki wanted to ask if she thought she would be okay, but he also didn't want to do so in front of anyone else.
He would wait until he could get her alone. ----------
Once they reached the lab, they found both Tony and Bruce unconscious. Tony had a tranquillizer dart sticking out of his neck; Bruce had several in many places on his body.
Arianna hadn't known Bruce could be tranquillized, but there he was on the floor, completely knocked out.
Steve gently sat her down on one of the many tables there, and then he went towards the two scientists on the floor. Natasha and Clint followed him, but Loki stayed with her.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded even as she swayed from the pain she was feeling. Arianna usually didn't have any negative wishes for anyone, but she was glad the one who had hurt her was dead. He wouldn't be able to hurt her or anyone else again.
"Thanks for saving my life."
"You've saved mine countless times," Loki said. "Consider it a returned favor."
Arianna tried to smile, but her expression quickly turned into a grimace instead.
"Or it could be that you consider me a friend and you were looking out for me."
"Perhaps. Just don't tell anyone. I've got a reputation to keep up as a heartless monster."
"I think that ship has sailed," she said, swaying again.
"Maybe you should lie down. Just don't go to sleep."
"What I need is for Tony to wake up. Or for Jarvis to be put back on."
Arianna knew Tony had been working on finding a source of sustainable energy for Earth. He was trying to create something much like the Tesseract, only not as volatile. If she could get her hands on it, she could heal herself easily.
"May I see?" Loki asked. "The wound, I mean. We need to stop the bleeding. You've lost a lot of blood, and I'm not sure what the limit is for a Midgardian."
"I'm – okay. Yeah."
Arianna wasn't sure what her limits were either. She knew she was dizzy and fading fast. She needed to stop the bleeding until Tony woke up.
"You will have to lie down for this."
She did as she was told even though she didn't really want to lie down. What if she passed out?
Loki drew out the knife he'd used to kill her attacker and used it to rip through the right leg of her pajama pants.
Loki was very clinical about it, focused on stemming the blood flow more than anything else. After he'd ripped the pantleg enough to reach the wound, he tore a strip off so he could tie it around her thigh and keep the blood from coming out too fast.
"Done," he said, "but keep still and do not sit back up."
Arianna relaxed as much as she could and did as she'd been told. She probably shouldn't have been upright to begin with. It had only helped the blood flow out more quickly.
Natasha ended up by Arianna's side once she'd done everything possible to help Tony and Banner. They were fine, but she didn't know how long they would be out. They had no clue how much of the tranquillizer had been used or how strong it had been.
Arianna was set, though, and Natasha had a hard time admitting to herself that Loki was the one responsible for that. He'd also been the one responsible for saving Arianna's life earlier.
Everyone else had been too busy with the other attackers. Even though Natasha knew Arianna couldn't fight to save her life, she'd still taken her eyes off of her friend and had left her to her own devices.
"Are you okay? We still have to wait for Tony and Banner to wake up."
Arianna nodded weakly.
Steve and Clint came over as soon as they were able, and they all formed a circle around where Arianna was lying.
"I still think you should take energy from us," Loki said. "All of us. You won't hurt anyone that way."
Arianna shook her head, but she didn't seem certain anymore. Natasha wondered if Arianna had ever thought about channeling from a group. It made sense, and she was all for it if it would close the wound on her friend's leg.
"I'll do it," Natasha said.
Clint nodded, as did Steve, but Arianna still shook her head.
"Why not?" Loki asked, a note of impatience in his voice. "You do realize if the two over there don't wake up soon, you could die?"
"I don't know how!" she exclaimed, putting more energy into her response than she probably should have.
Natasha noticed that her answer seemed to placate Loki, however, because he no longer seemed impatient. In fact, Natasha saw understanding flash over his face.
"If forget they don't train you in the art of magic on Midgard," he said and put a hand on Arianna's leg. "Everyone put a hand on her. We will all be connected while she does this. If it works, you'll feel your energy draining into her."
"And what do I do?" Arianna asked.
"Start with one of us," Loki said. "Focus on one touch at a time until you've reached us all."
As it turned out, Natasha was the one Arianna reached out to first. They were best friends, so it made sense. Natasha had found Arianna when she'd been at her lowest point and when Arianna had only just found out about her ability to manipulate energy. Natasha had tried to help her and had somewhere succeeded by offering her a job with SHIELD.
As Natasha's mind connected with Arianna's the red head almost flinched. She'd never had her mind invaded before, and she didn't want anyone seeing what was there.
"Sorry," Arianna muttered. "I've never done this when I was so weak."
Natasha relaxed when she felt the other's presence leave her brain. She could still feel Arianna's energy, but not Arianna's thoughts. That was better.
She eventually felt Clint's and Steve's presence as well, which made her feel oddly vulnerable, but it got much worse when Loki's energy merged with theirs.
It was worse because she could feel Loki's emotions. She realized that Arianna was naturally connected with the former Asgardian. She'd formed a bond with him when she'd brought him out of his mind prison. Through Arianna, Natasha could tell that even though Loki was all the things Natasha thought him to be, he was also what Arianna thought him to be.
He was a victim as much as he was a villain, and Natasha knew that meant that Loki might be redeemable. He'd already found someone he wanted to protect. Whether he'd done it because he cared for her or because he felt he owed her it, it showed that Loki did have a code of ethics, even if that code was unique to him.
Natasha had reason to believe that Loki wouldn't hurt Arianna. She wasn't sure about anyone else. ---------- Arianna tried to keep her mind out of everyone else's, but it was hard because she was so weak she could hardly focus. In the end, she got flashes of memories from everyone.
From Natasha she'd gotten glimpses of some school for girls, though it must've been more than that because Natasha had been angry at and scared of the memory of the place. Natasha never spoke about her past, so Arianna wasn't sure exactly what she'd seen.
Clint had been thinking about a family – his family. A farm house with acres of land. A wife, children. Arianna hadn't known that Clint had any family.
Steve had only one thing on his mind: A woman named Peggy Carter. Arianna already knew that story, but she hadn't known that it still filled Steve's thoughts.
Finally, there was Loki. She saw more from him because she'd been in his mind a few times before. It was much easier to connect with him because of that.
In Loki's mind now, Arianna could feel that no matter what Loki showed to the outside world, he was still plagued with memories from his year of torture. Why wouldn't he be? One didn't just get over something like that. Thanos had made Loki believe that no one had ever, could ever care for him.
Since he'd been on Earth – or Midgard, as he still called it – he'd found someone who did care. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he knew Arianna didn't take time out of her day to check on him and keep him company just because he was her responsibility.
He was still waiting for the moment that Arianna realized that she was dealing with a lost cause and would give up on him. Loki had been alone and tortured for so long that, until he'd met Arianna, comfort from an actual person had seemed a thing of mere fantasy.
Loki had believed that no one could ever understand why he'd done what he'd done in coming to Midgard and trying to conquer, but Arianna did. Because of her ability to see what had happened and feel some of it, she did understand and she didn't hate him.
'Of course I don't hate you,' Arianna sent the thought to Loki only.
She had blocked Loki's thoughts and feelings from everyone else. In fact, since she was acting as a sort of filter, nobody had felt anybody else's feelings once she'd figured out what she was doing, which hadn't taken long.
After Arianna was healed – healed but still weak – the room fell silent. No one really knew what to say, it seemed. Arianna wanted to talk to Loki but knew he would not be open to conversation with everyone else around.
There was movement where Bruce and Tony had been lying. Bruce was waking up now, hands over his eyes, as if his head was aching. Side effect of the tranquillizer, maybe. His hands began roaming over the rest of his body – probably checking for the darts he'd been shot with, but they had already been removed.
The room was tense as they all waited to see if Bruce was going to turn green and angry, but he seemed fine even if he was moving slower than normal.
Tony came to not long after that and he was the first one to speak by asking what had happened.
"Someone broke in," Natasha said. "They were trained fighters and they were after Aries. There are a few bodies upstairs."
"She was hurt, but we helped heal her," Clint said.
"Bet that was awesome," Tony said. "The healing, not the hurting."
"I know what you meant." Arianna looked around the lab. "Was anything taken?"
Tony went rigid before stumbling to his feet. He hurriedly went through all the tables around him, searching for something.
"We were testing your blood. It's gone."
"Three guesses as to who has it," Loki muttered.
"SHIELD," Arianna said.
"No," Natasha said. "No way would Fury –"
"He did threaten me," Arianna reminded her. "But I wasn't talking about him. The council – or someone about Fury's authority. If they knew about me . . ."
"Are you in danger?" Loki asked.
Arianna didn't want to believe her own people would go against her just because of how different she was, but it was more than possible for that to happen.
"If they believe me to be a threat . . . yes."
"We can protect you, though," Steve said. "We'll take turns watching over you."
Tony nodded. "Absolutely."
Natasha nodded as well. Arianna knew how hard this would be for her. Natasha looked to Fury as a father figure – to actively go against him would tear her apart inside.
Bruce would do whatever he thought was right.
Clint would protect whoever he considered to be innocent.
"Loki?"
The black-haired man shrugged. "I've already killed once to protect you. Nothing more needs to be said on where my loyalty lies in this situation."
"Thank you."
A few seconds later, Tony lightened the mood by opening his mouth.
"So . . . who's picking up the cleaning bill?"
Arianna threw her hands up in a gesture of backing away from the responsibility.
"You're the billionaire here, so . . . you." ---------- Back upstairs now, the whole group was sitting around Tony's living room. None of them felt like sleeping, not even Arianna, who was definitely in need of rest.
When they had reached the living room, the first thing Tony had done was call someone to get rid of the bodies there. He'd take care of the cleaning crew in the morning – or later that morning.
"I think I need to teach each of you how to override a system shutdown," Tony said. "I was hacked into tonight, so I'll have to create a whole new program to work with."
"Yeah, um . . . the problem is that you and Bruce are the only ones smart enough here to pick up your technology quickly," Arianna said.
"Agent Romanoff does okay," Tony said, earning a smirk from Natasha.
"We should start sparring again," Natasha said. "I know you hate fighting, Aries, but you need to learn. You could've been killed tonight."
"They didn't want me dead. They just didn't expect such a fight to keep me here."
The people who had broken in had indeed been SHIELD agents. The outfits they'd been wearing had told them as much.
"Sometimes, Arianna, death is a kindness," Loki said and got up from his spot on the couch.
He'd been thinking about how he'd almost lost the only friend he had on Midgard. Maybe anywhere, to be honest. He hadn't even really thought about what he'd been doing when he'd killed that guy. He'd just known that Arianna had been in trouble and that he'd been the closest one available to help her.
He quickly went to his room and sat on his bed. He became lost in his own mind at once. So much had happened to him in the last year, most of it more than not good. Pain, so much pain. He had become something he'd never wanted to be, something monstrous. He'd become a killer.
Hundreds of people had died because of his actions. He'd been in battle before, of course, but killing just to kill . . . that wasn't him. He'd brought death and destruction to Midgard.
"Please stop," Arianna's voice came from his doorway. "I can feel you thinking all the way in the living room."
Loki looked her way. She was leaning against the wall. He could tell she was tired even though she was fighting against it.
"You feel my thoughts?"
"Yeah. It happens after I connect with someone a few times. It'll fade eventually."
"And I . . . heard your thoughts earlier?"
She nodded. "That doesn't happen often, but I thought you needed to hear it. I don't hate you. If I didn't know what happened, I might. But after everything how can you not see that I do care?"
Loki stood up. "But why?" He hadn't meant to yell and he definitely hadn't meant to make her flinch. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. "Why care about me? What could you possibly gain?"
Arianna shook her head and seemed infinitely sad.
"You don't need a reason to care, Loki. And you don't care for someone just so you can get something from them. I don't know where you learned that, but it's wrong."
He knew that – within his whole being he knew he'd always wanted someone like Arianna. He didn't deserve someone like her, but oh gods, how he wanted. She gave and never expected anything, didn't even want anything in return. She cared about him and only ever wanted him to be who he'd been before he'd found out who he really was.
"And who are you?" she moved forward. "And does it really matter? You've been given a new start."
This girl could ruin him.
"I agreed to help you because I know you're better than you let yourself be. You don't believe me because you think you're unlovable. But that's not true. If you didn't have good in you, you wouldn't have saved me tonight."
Every fiber of Loki's being wanted to believe her, wanted to look into Arianna's green eyes and get lost in the naïve faith she seemed to have, but he wouldn't allow himself that pleasure.
"Are you really so foolish as to accept a monster? You know no one outside of this building will ever understand why I did what I did. They will never be able to forgive. And SHIELD will never forgive you for siding with me."
Arianna scoffed and Loki saw a determination there that he'd never seen before.
"They are not my friends. They tried to kidnap me tonight. I know what will happen to me if they get their hands on me and I refuse to do what they want. You know what will happen."
'Pain,' Loki thought, shuddering. Kind Arianna in so much pain, being used for someone else's gain. He wouldn't allow that. Not ever. Even if he had to burn SHIELD to the ground.
"Not everyone is a problem."
"Get out of my head," he said, no real malice in his voice.
"Then stop thinking so loudly."
@smallangryandpink @purplekitten30
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Text
What The Stark Spangled F**k? Drabble: Fancy A BJ?
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Summary: Steve sees something on Emmy’s phone that he really doesn’t like...
Warnings: Bad Language words. Some none-explicit mentions of sexual activity, and Steve being a huge big dumbass.
Chapter Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
WIYPT A/N: @sweater-dadiesddumbdork once again working her magic and guest writing for my babies. After all, this one was all her idea so she deserved to write it herself in her own wonderful way!!
Sweaters A/N- Listen, I'm really just borrowing her characters for a time cause I have these thoughts and @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ finds them as funny as I do. 
Steve Roger’s Masterlist
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“Steve, can you go get me a bottle of water from the fridge?” Katie asked while brushing her hair, looking at him in the mirror of the vanity unit “I forgot to grab one on my way up.”
Steve had been lounging on the bed, looking through the late night TV choices, when he tossed the remote aside, turning it off. “Sure Baby, anything else?” He moved to a stand, and she shook her head with a no.
On his way down the hallway, he checked in on the kids, each one sound asleep at the late hour. Jamie's room he snapped his fingers once, Stark immediately hopping down to his dog bed. In Rori’s room their daughter had starfished herself in the middle of the bed, covers tangled around her legs.  Steve shifted her to her proper place and covered her back up, kissing her forehead before he headed over to check on Harry who was just as he should be, curled up under his duvet, soft little sighs escaping the boy. Emmy was the only one not in her room, but going down the stairs, he heard her in the den, watching a movie.
Going into the kitchen, he snapped open the fridge to retrieve the water when Emmy bounced in the kitchen with a cheery “Hey Dad, you’re up late.” Sliding her phone onto the counter, she disappeared into the pantry. “Did Mom get any popcorn last time she was out you think?”
Steve turned, leaning against the counter while listening to Em. “Top shelf, in the back. She hasn't moved it in all the years we've lived here.” He chuckled softly and went to unscrew the cap on the water, to take a sip when his eyes happened to fall to Emmy’s phone, and of course it was still lit up where she had been using it. The iconic dreaded boyfriend's name in the top.
Petey
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it and his eyes scanned the last message, And holy fucking Jesus, he really wished he hadn’t as the words left Steve’s ears ringing and caused him to half snort the water in his mouth down his throat, half splutter the rest all over the kitchen counter, his eyes watering.
“Want that BJ tonight or tomorrow Pete? I can swing by after this movie if you have a craving for it.”
Steve’s mind literally SCREAMED at him as he turned away, trying to catch his breath. Emmy’s head poked out the pantry with a look of concern. “God, Pops, are you okay?! What's wrong?”  
He waved at her that it was nothing, grabbing a hand towel to wipe at the counter and luckily the phone was dark, not showing the offending message between his daughter and that FUCKING BOY. “I’m okay, just down the wrong pipe.”  His cheeks were a high red, as well as his ears. Emmy disappeared and a split second later came out with the bag of popcorn before she grabbed her phone off the counter and flicked it on.
Steve tried not to do it, but his eyes lifted to see her expression. Of course, she looked thrilled with whatever Spider Boy written to her, Steve thought darkly, and she tucked her phone away in her back pocket. “After the movie, I'm swinging over to Pete's for a bit. Gotta drop something off. I won't be too late.”
“Err, couldn't it just wait till morning Em? It's late enough already.” Steve tried, his damned hardest.
“Dad, I'm 22? And I’m only gonna be out a little while, I promised him I would.” Leaning up to kiss his cheek, she grabbed her popcorn, remarking as she left the room, tossing a few kernels into her mouth. “Don’t worry Dad, it's not a big deal.”
Not a big deal? NOT A BIG DEAL?! Steve sighed, knowing there really wasn't much he could do, or could stop from happening. “Night Em, Your mother and I love you.” Maybe that reminder would be stuck in her brain. Fuck, now I know what Nat meant when she claimed she was going to have to bleach her eyeballs when she caught us on the couch.
“Love you too!”    
With a heaviness he didn't know he could possibly carry, Steve made his way back upstairs and into the bedroom, where Katie was now all under cover, having been reading a book in her lap.
“Well there you are Soldier, was wondering what happened to you.” She closed her book and looked at him, frowning immediately at the expression on his face. “What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?”
“Kids are fine Sweetheart, are all sound asleep except Emmy. She's downstairs finishing a movie and about to head to...His house” He handed her the water bottle and went about undressing.
“By His I’m assuming you mean Pete’s…” Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow. He wasn’t normally that venomous about Parker.
“Yup.”
“Okay, so? Why has that got you so upset?”  Katie was still was at a loss, and Steve tugged off his shirt, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Frowning at his silence, she slipped out from under the covers and moved to drape herself over his back, arms loosely around his neck, her small bump gently pressing into the curve of his own spine as she nuzzled behind his ear with the tip of her nose. “Come on Stevie, tell me.”
“I really don't want to Katie.” He said with a strain to his voice and Katie’s palms flattened against his bare chest, putting little nibbles on his neck, making sure to press her thinly covered breasts against his back. “Well then I know what will make you feel better.”  
“Not tonight Doll.”
This made her frown and really pull back and Steve felt her tense up and he cursed himself inwardly.
“Not tonight?” she breathed out before he felt her scoff. “Steve, what the fuck? You were making eyes at me across the dinner table tonight and couldn't stop running your hands on me before when we were watching TV but now you’re not in the mood?” She slipped around to sit on his other side, still slightly irritated but she could tell something was bugging him so she tried to keep her voice level when she spoke again and not snap. “What got your shield in a knot, Soldier?”
Steve rubbed at his face, groaning behind his hand. “I just…saw something and it just... weirded me out, okay?”
Katie put up her hand with a continue motion for him, her eyes wide. “Out with it!”
“So, I was getting the water and Emmy came in to make some popcorn. Her phone was on and I happened to look down at it.”
Katie waits for a few moments, but when he didn’t continue, she nudged him a bit. “So? What did you see that was so bad? This is Emmy you’re talking about.”
Steve turned his head to look at her. “It was a message to Queen, asking if he wanted a Blowjob.”
Katie gasped a bit and scrunched her nose. “What, are you sure?” “Trust me, I’m sure.” Katie fell silent before she took a deep breath. She knew Steve was grappling over the fact Emmy was an adult now, and had been for a number of years, but he preferred to remain blissfully ignorant about most of the stuff they got up to whereas she was a lot more pragmatic and understanding which showed in the fact Emmy talked to her, came to her for advice. Clearing her throat Katie glanced at Steve whose face was still wrinkled in disgust and began to speak, trying to choose her words carefully. “Steve, she is an adult now and well... we had all the talks with her. It's natural for young adults to explore things, you know?”
Steve groaned again, dropping his face in his hands. “Baby please, for the love of God stop.”
“Okay.” she rubbed his back, but wasn't entirely ready to leave it there. “What exactly did it say though? Maybe you misread it.”
Behind his hands covering his face he muttered. “Want that BJ tonight or tomorrow Pete, I can swing by after this movie if you have a craving for it.” His hands pushed through his hair. “Or something along those lines.”
Next to him Katie snorted, covering her mouth suddenly, and Steve looked at her with a frown. “What’s so funny?”
She burst out even harder, looking away from him for a moment, her shoulders shaking as she composed herself. “Oh fuck Steve.... You’re really a dumbass sometimes.”
Steve frowned at her as she continued.
“Baby, BJ is for Ben and Jerry’s. The gang is going over to Pete’s apartment tomorrow for a Sundae Bar while they stream Star Wars all night. She is going to drop him off the ice cream. I bought them a fuck load of it when I went to the store yesterday!”
Steve’s face smoothed out, thinking about what Katie had said. Of fucking course, Emmy had told him about it this morning over the breakfast table while he was busy cutting up some pancakes for Harry. “Oh shit... okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Giving a bit of a relieved laugh, he fell back against the bed, sighing as Katie smirked, looming over him. “Feel better Soldier?”
Steve nodded and let his hand cup the side of her face. “You have no idea how much better I feel.” Pushing up, he pulled Katie into his lap, his hands either side of her bump as he kissed on her neck, making her laugh. Once he let her go, she moved back around the bed, and then her face scrunched up a bit. “Oh God Steve, now it's stuck in my head. That's our daughter.”
Steve snorted while he moved to a stand and pulled the blankets down. “I know, why do you think I was so messed up earlier?!”
“Fuck, I need to scrub my brain with bleach.” Katie shuddered as she tumbled back into bed, and Steve stretched out next to her.
“I suddenly understand what Natasha was raving about that day she caught us. I might not ever get over this.”
“Well thank you for ruining me too.” Katie punched at her pillow, glaring at him, and he broke out in a grin, rolling to his side and tugging her closer.
“Admit it, you love me, don't you? Even if I am a dumbass sometimes.”
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merryfortune · 3 years
Text
Alexithymia
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Ship: Ryoken/Spectre
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,799
Tags: Canon Compliant, Knights of Hanoi as Found Family, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Abandonment Issues, Attachment Disorders, Selective Mutism
Synopsis:  Ryoken becomes worried for Spectre when his behaviour deviates, and even regresses, after the defeat of Bohman.
  Ryoken was relieved to log out from the Link VRAINS after Playmaker had won against Bohman. He had been relieved to simply have been revived, standing in the plaza with Spectre by his side, smiling as people’s very souls were restored to them after being taken for the Neuron Link but being able to breathe air – even heavily recycled, air conditioned air – of the office filled him with relief and gratitude.
  Ryoken got up from his seat and Spectre finally opened his eyes. Ryoken wanted to pounce on him with a hug as soon as he did that, but Spectre was fussy, always had been and Ryoken thought he always would be. So, he gave Spectre a moment and then he looked towards Ryoken. There was an indescribable emotion on the blue surface of his iris; his lips twitched.
  “We did it.” Ryoken said. “We lived. The vast majority of the Ignis have perished; the Light Ignis’s faction is a threat no more. We did it.”
  “Yes, congratulations.” Spectre’s voice sounded indescribable.
  Ryoken beamed. “I’m so happy right now, thank you, for everything, all your efforts.”
  He couldn’t contain himself. Yes, the issue of the Dark Ignis remained but for now, now was a time of victory and celebration, no matter how small or what ills were to follow. Ryoken sat down next to Spectre and hugged him. Spectre stiffened as the touch, as Ryoken’s arms came around him and held him. Ryoken sighed. Spectre flinched.
  “Please, sir, stop…” Spectre murmured.
  Ryoken receded slightly and he gazed up at Spectre who looked most uncomfortable, even frightened, by his embrace.
  “Are you alright…?” Ryoken asked and he swallowed a lump in his throat.
  “It hurts.” Spectre admitted in a tiny voice. “It hurts when you do that.”
  He wanted to get away so Ryoken let him. Ryoken straightened up and the atmosphere turned awkward. Ryoken hadn’t thought that he would be squeezing Spectre so hard that it would hurt, and it wounded him that he had yet neither said a word. There was silence save for the whirring of the air conditioner on the far wall. Spectre pointedly looked the other way, but he could feel when Ryoken stole looks at him.
  “Are you okay?” Ryoken asked again.
  Spectre attempted to reply but his words came out a stutter, confused and agitated until he finally gave up and changed the subject. “You said Playmaker defeated Bohman but what of you? What happened after I-” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
  “If you can stomach it, I’m sure the Lieutenants may have recordings of the duels that took place after your loss.” Ryoken said.
  “I would rather hear it from you first.” Spectre replied with a terse exhale.
  “Of course, as you wish.”
  Ryoken then went on to explain the events which followed after Spectre’s loss. Some of it made him laugh, some of it harrowed him, but there was an oddness to his reactions, a certain detached callousness, which Ryoken couldn’t deny despite how much he wanted to. He wasn’t certain but he could tell. Something about Spectre was off but he couldn’t confirm it until later. When their conversation finished up, they were both famished, and the Lieutenants had returned so they had a meal together.
  The fridge had been stocked up with the best and even though the kitchen was tiny, there was an atmosphere of celebration. Aso, Kyoko, and Genome: they all agreed that with the vast majority of the Ignis terminated, it was time to take the victory no matter how meagre. Spectre merely sat and watched. It was eerie and yet, the Lieutenants hardly seemed to notice but its not like Spectre was a big personality. He was a small one. A wisp of the thing and right now, he just wanted to sit at the dining table chair and watch with a rather blank expression.
  Ryoken kept reminding himself to keep glancing towards him, keep checking on him but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for Spectre’s opinion on things. He was reasonably certain that even if he were to ask, then he would merely be stalled out or lied to. He could forgive Spectre either way for that, those were two cores of his character, after all, but Ryoken still cared for him very deeply.
  “Thank you.” Spectre said when Kyoko put a plate of food in front him. He didn’t smile.
  “Your welcome.” Kyoko replied but she glanced at Ryoken, she had noticed as well.
  No one in this so-called household was a gourmet chef but if there was anyone who came close, it would have been Spectre. He cared deeply about his produce and how it was treated, he wanted it to be certain that they were treated with care and respect, so he typically produced the best meals. Not for this luncheon, at least.
  Everyone sat at the table and thanked each other for the meal, for surviving, and so forth. The Lieutenants ate ravenously and at the other end, of both the table and the spectrum, Spectre barely ate with Ryoken truly in between. Spectre finished first and then retired to his bed on the yacht; no one stopped him. So, no one did the dishes, either, since after eating, everyone wanted to sleep.
  Ryoken left his plate and crockery on the sink then slunk off. He and Spectre shared a twin room and he was quiet as he entered it. There wasn’t much space physically between the two beds since it was kind of cramped on the yacht, but it felt a lot bigger as Ryoken’s eyes settled on how defensive Spectre seemed, lying on his side with his back to the door. Ryoken’s anxieties just worsened.
  But it was nothing compared to when he managed to confirm and get a better grapple on what Spectre was feeling at present. Or if he was even feeling anything at all.
  The following day, they all woke up at weird times, feeling groggy and bad so Ryoken, against everyone’s wishes, they wanted to lie low and eat some more, and maybe do the dishes if they were feeling really daring but he convinced them otherwise. He returned the yacht to the marina and at dusk, he dragged everyone off the yacht and sent them on their ways. To do anything for an hour and then they would be back.
  Ryoken was hoping that even Spectre would go off and do his own thing but very sullenly, he insisted that he would prefer to shadow Ryoken, so he did. So, Ryoken donned the choice of doing something that he thought Spectre would like, even for a little while and he figured there was no choice more obvious than walking along the pier, they had planter boxes and sculptures and similar. He thought surely that would perk Spectre up, even a little, but he was wrong. Really wrong.
  Spectre followed at a few paces and Ryoken couldn’t bring himself to grab Spectre’s hand and all but make it a date. But Ryoken was afraid that he might hurt Spectre again, like when he had hugged him yesterday. He stood in front of one planter box and looked out to the water which shone with the oncoming hues of dusk. He pointed at the flowers. He thought they were pretty, all their tiny buds and the wiry stems of a grey-green.
  “Hey, Spectre, can you tell me any fun facts about this variety?” he asked. He thought that they were peonies, but he wasn’t sure.
  Spectre caught up and he instead mumbled, “I don’t like the crowd here.”
  Ryoken glanced around. There were less people here than he thought; maybe they were all crammed inside the bars and restaurants along the pier. But he nodded. He knew that Spectre had never been overly fond of public places and big crowds and all their social batteries were running on empty. It was understandable; it was also excusable.
  “Okay,” Ryoken replied, a little downhearted and rejected, “let’s go home.”
  “Thank you, sir.” Spectre sounded a little bit happier.
  Ryoken had wanted to linger longer along the pier but if Spectre wanted to go home, then they would both go home. They walked back and again, Spectre remained a few steps behind Ryoken. Normally, he didn’t mind, but it felt more indicative of something else given the events of yesterday.
  At dinner, Spectre hardly ate again and was the first to retire to bed, Ryoken gave him the space he clearly wanted by washing the dishes but the repetitiveness of cleaning up today and yesterday’s meals, gave him too much time to be inside his head worrying about Spectre. After finishing up, wiping down his hands, Ryoken retired to his and Spectre’s room. He saw that Spectre was sleeping on his side again. It was still unusual, he tended to prefer to sleep on his back and it made Ryoken wonder, was he actually asleep?
  So, he prompted him, “Spectre?”
  “Yes, sir?” he replied tiredly.
  “Are you sure you ate enough today?” Ryoken asked. “There’s snacks in the pantry if you want them.”
  “I’m quite right, thank you for your concern.” He sounded scripted.
  “Why is that?” Ryoken asked and he already feared the truth, should he elicit it at all.
  “It’s simple.” Spectre scoffed. “Losers don’t eat.”
  There it was. Ryoken was surprised that Spectre had said that at all, but he was glad to be told the truth, no matter how terribly electrifying, like a live wire come loose.
  Ryoken settled on the bed. He wondered if now and here the right time for those sorts of conversations. He stole another look at Spectre. It was obvious he just needed time to lick his wounds and have some space. Ryoken closed his eyes and held the sheet up right, lying the other way to Spectre.
  Dealing with him had been easier when he was a child. When he didn’t know all their tricks. When he had come to the mansion, and when the Lieutenants had actually managed to speak with one of the good doctor’s darling test subjects, it became increasingly obvious that there was something wrong with this child’s psyche. And that aberration had already been there long before he had been their test subject in the Hanoi Project.
  Ryoken recalled that he would sometimes be schooled by the assistants in order to coach Spectre, engage him in therapy play and the like. Ryoken helped to teach Spectre his own emotions and the like, playing in very staged games and the like but at least in the moment, Spectre had never noticed because he had never really played with another child before. Eventually, once he had gotten good at it, they started him on identifying emotions and the like in other people and for better or worse, he had gotten very good at that as he had a naturally calculative mind.
  But they weren’t children anymore and for better or worse, though he would deny it, possibly, Spectre had agency and, no doubt in his mind, Ryoken was both therapy and better than therapy. He would never own up to what he was feeling until he had repressed it and gotten better at masking and mirroring – like he had done in the Link VRAINS, Ryoken realised now. He knew there had been something a little too good about how Spectre had smiled there, in a cascade of glowing, golden specks. He had smiled a little too wide. He just wanted to be praised for going through the motions, following Ryoken’s sincere and earnest grin. So happy to be alive.
 A few weeks passed like this. A sort of in-between where the pallor of awkwardness had receded slightly so Ryoken tested his waters again. It occurred to him that maybe the Earth Ignis, who was now wholly and utterly gone, had been holding up more of Spectre’s emotions than either of them had ever realised. Of course, there were other possibilities too. Maybe it was just a depressive slump, maybe it was something else with its roots in Spectre’s childhood and infancy, but either way, they to get back into the network and continue their mission. The Dark Ignis was still at large and therefore, still posed a threat and had to be eradicated. Yusaku was the only thing that stood between them and the final bout of their goal.
  However, more mundanely, Ryoken hoped that exposing Spectre to people he knew, even if he wasn’t particularly close to them or even liked them, might inspire a change in him. Ryoken had been observing Spectre and he had taken to routine again, that was good. Getting up early, going to bed late, and doing all the errands and the like in between but he hadn’t absorbed back into his hobbies or the like which was worrying.
  At least he came along with Ryoken on that particular mission. Ryoken wouldn’t have forced him if he said no as it wasn’t his thing at the best of times and in consolidation, Ryoken didn’t drag it out either. He said his hellos, he asked about the Ignis, he did his best to ignore Takeru who was hanging out at Café Nagi as well.
  But it was just him who had said his hellos and said his bit. He had been hoping that Spectre would say something – anything, even just a hello – but alas. He just stood behind him at a few paces with a grumpy, scrunched up sort of expression.
  They returned to the yacht not long after. Ryoken picked up two iced teas for them elsewhere, one for himself and one for Spectre, because Spectre wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, and especially not from Café Nagi, and whilst he didn’t really want it, he appreciated it. But both the one-use plastic drinks ended up on the table and they retired to their room together.
  They sat on the edge of their bed; their feet almost meeting in the middle, but Spectre had angled himself away from Ryoken because regardless of if Spectre wanted it, Ryoken wanted to confront the weirdness between them.
  “I’m sorry.” Ryoken started.
  “Don’t.” Spectre intoned sharply but oddly disappointed.
  “I noticed your mutism flared up around Playmaker and Soulburner earlier…” Ryoken said, and also at the iced tea kiosk but he didn’t mention that.
  “Yes…” Spectre murmured.
  “I just want to know,” Ryoken said, “is there anything I can do for you? I’m just really worried about you.”
  “I know…” Spectre murmured. “I’m just having a hard time collecting my thoughts as of late.”
  “I can tell.” Ryoken replied.
  Spectre hazarded a smile because he knew that’s what Ryoken was likely probing him for.
  “If you think of anything, anything at all, I want to help.” Ryoken said.
  “I’d like to hear it.” Spectre blurted out suddenly, eyes watering. “I want to hear you say you won’t leave me behind or abandon me, please.”
  Ryoken blinked. He was surprised but he also wasn’t surprised, so his expression softened.
  “I won’t ever leave you behind, I promise, you mean the world to me Spectre, if I were to abandon you, I would be abandoning my whole world, please believe me when I say that, I love you.” Ryoken replied and then he realised what he had said. “You don’t have to say it back to me, don’t feel pressured, please.”
  “I love you too.” Spectre said in a tiny voice and he smiled. It was small and twitchy and even a little uncertain but Ryoken knew it was genuine.
  Ryoken smiled. “Can I hug you?” he asked. “Please.”
  Spectre flashed him a look that made him look very fawnish and hurt but he instead said, “No.”
  “Oh.” Ryoken murmured. Not quite a gasp but he couldn’t be surprised. It was Spectre’s decision; he would respect it even if it made his heart flutter.
  “I want to hug you.” Spectre said with clarification, but he still carried this odd look about him.
  Spectre got up and he sat next to Ryoken. His heart hammered in his chest. Ryoken felt similarly. Spectre hefted his legs up and he cuddled in, holding Ryoken at the bottom of his waist. He had this very petulant look of dislike on his face, but he closed his eyes. He listened to the swift beating of Ryoken’s heart. Ryoken smiled and put his arms around Spectre.
  “Does it hurt?” Ryoken asked in a quiet voice.
  “No, it doesn’t.” Spectre replied as a whisper.
  Ryoken wanted to reply but he was fairly certain that his gladness was already conveyed as Spectre continued to settle. He didn’t seem all that uncomfortable anymore so Ryoken patted his back, stroking him gently.
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gothic-safari-clown · 3 years
Text
The Mind’s Power Over the Body
Part 16: Round Two?
Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen 
Word count: 1559
El had been right about her mysterious savior in that his interference grew to be something that could be quite a nuisance to them. It wasn't long after Jonathan's meeting with Falcone that he had returned with a new, tricked out getup. Rumors around town had confirmed that it was the same man and seemed to solidify the vigilante theory.
Gadgets or not, the pair had yet to see the effects of the toxin on the caped crusader. Jonathan had come home that night composed as always, but she had recognized the troubled look in his eyes. Between that and the attack on Falcone, it seemed that whoever was having little trouble sniffing out their plot.
"What's the bad news?" She sighed, putting down the book she had been reading. Jonathan just shook his head in response, loosening his tie.
"The bad news-" he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, "is that Rachel Dawes is still alive, and rumors are that she has some leverage over the judge that Falcone paid off for the organization."
"Oh, shit," El put her forehead in her palm. After all of the traction that the so-called 'Batman' had gained so quickly, the last thing she had expected was to hear that the meddling DA was still around. "Well, wait, the bad news? Does that mean there's good news too?" She lifted her head again, relieved to see him nod.
"That microwave emitter that I told you about, for the final stage, it came in, it's all ready to go. If-" he cut off the look of excitement on El's face, "we can prevent the DA's office from throwing another wrench in."
"Jonathan, don't worry about that." She rolled her eyes and stood from the couch. "They have leverage on the DA, not Falcone's staff at the shipyard, and before they can build a case, they need to have proof that we even have it."
"If they get a warrant-"
"Then the boys at the docks will take care of it, that's what I'm trying to say. Now, will you relax? Everything is going to be fine. We have the machine, and we have more than enough of the toxin."
Jonathan was still leaning back slightly against the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. Elianna sighed, silently cursing her friend's perfectionist nature, and moved his hand away from his face and replaced it with her own hands on either cheek.
"Can you just once relax and appreciate your own work? Do you need a cigarette?"
"No, I don't need a cigarette; they're disgusting. I need to find a way to foolproof this damn thing."
"It is disgusting, it's absolutely revolting, but I think it'll bring you into the present and give you at least a couple minutes to step away from being you." She patted his cheek and nudged him toward the fire escape window.
"From being me?"
"Yeah. Let's not be you right now. Let's be me instead, and be proud of your work." Jonathan rolled his eyes but went along with her.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stop thinking for a minute.
You'll listen to her and not me? I'm very hurt, Jonny. You don't share a body with her.
Standing outside smoking, leaning against the rail, the pair stared out at the city before them.
"Look at that. It's disgusting. You should have come to California with me when you had the chance." Elianna teased and elbowed Jonathan lightly. He responded by exhaling slowly and giving a look that said 'maybe.' "Okay, look; you're still not being me, you're not here. Look out there," she pointed with her cigarette. "Gotham is falling apart, and if I remember correctly, it has been for decades. What you are doing with this project will end all of that once and for all. This city is a stain, and you're cleaning it out, once and for all."
A long pause hung between them as Jonathan let his friend's words sink in. She was right, and for the first time since the beginning of the whole plot, he felt a sense of pride for his contribution. Ultimately, this was for the greater good, and he would be the one to pull the trigger on it.
Pride was quickly replaced with a relaxed contentedness, and Jonathan took another drag, almost enjoying the taste.
"Actually," he began, "I think now we are cleaning it out. Give yourself some credit." He turned El's little speech back on her and watched as she floundered.
"Well, I—I haven't really done anything, I'm just sort of here, and honestly, I should have gone back to my apartment ages ago-"
"There isn't really any point now; there are only two weeks before we start." El nodded and returned her gaze to the skyline.
"I'm sorry for being in your space for so long. I really didn't mean to be here still." She turned her head to look at Jonathan.
"I already told you, I like having you around." El's eyes widened at the genuine admission. "Besides, if someone were to come after you, I'd rather you not be alone. I think we both know how that usually ends up by now." He finished with a grim smile, and the redhead nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to come back to the late Granny Keeny.
Remembering the painful and dangerous situation in which her friend was brought up made her sad, and she moved closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad I could help. I know I give you a hard time, but I love you very much." El told him matter-of-factly, planted a kiss on his arm before returning her head to his shoulder, and took a drag off the stick between her fingers.
Jonathan found himself glad that she couldn't see his face, as her words caused his eyes to shut of their own accord. Even Scarecrow's filthy encouragements were drowned out as he privately reveled in El's affection. The insecure teenager still inside of him reminded him that whatever she said was meant platonically, but he allowed himself a quiet moment to pretend.
Connecting with people had never been his strong suit, and that fact had continued to hold into adulthood. But being around Elianna every day again for the first time in years served to remind him of the benefits of personal relationships. Even so, it frustrated him to no end that he had yet to figure out whether his attraction to his friend was based on the comfort of her presence or something else.
Even thinking about it made him tired. Slowly, almost tentatively, his head rested on hers. In response, her free arm wrapped around his to keep him there.
Unbeknownst to Jonathan, Elianna was facing a similar dilemma. It was a debate she had been having with herself since she had moved to Gotham, and as much as she wanted to convince herself finally to take the chance, now was most certainly not the time. Besides...
"It's Saturday."
"Yes, it is."
"You said that we were going to dose me again; we were supposed to do that last night."
The moment broke, and Jonathan let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, if you're so eager," he extinguished his half-smoked cigarette and tossed it down onto the ground below with El following suit.
Once back inside, the pair both went automatically to prepare for the ordeal. As Elianna settled onto the bed, Jonathan spoke again.
"You know you don't have to do this again. We were already going to get you a gas mask like the one I have."
"I know." She replied simply, and with a Look, Jonathan began fastening the restraints.
"May I ask why you want to do this so badly?" There was a silence as the redhead pondered her answer.
While some of her motivation came from the perspective of 'just in case of an accident,' she was reluctant to admit the real reason: that once the toxin wore off, the flooding of endorphins left her exhilarated and wanting more. That the rush of surviving something traumatic and harrowing, even just an assault on her psyche, left her feeling powerful, if somewhat exhausted.
Despite her reluctance, Jonathan seemed to know the answer already.
"The thrill of making it through?" El couldn't help the short laugh that escaped.
"I guess that sounds kinda crazy." Jonathan shook his head.
"Not at all. I went through the same thing." He assured as he finished fastening all of the restraints and retrieved the old belt from the dresser where it had been left. "Just remember," he continued as he placed it between her teeth, "that I am going to be here the entire time, alright?" Before he could think about the action, he laid his hand against her cheek comfortingly. Reading her expression, he nodded, "I promise."
El nodded and took a deep breath through her nose to prepare herself, staring at the ceiling before nodding firmly. With that, Jonathan wiped the injection site clean with an alcohol swab and carefully stuck the prepared needle into her vein, and pushed in the plunger.
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goldenworldsabound · 4 years
Text
Return To Motostoke II
Golden and Kabu meet up for a battle! Except for his ace, Kabu treats the battle as if he were the gym leader in the Galar challenge to account for Golden’s team being mostly freshly caught. Both of them grapple with their feelings and the fact that Haunter keeps causing trouble. Direct sequel to Return To Motostoke I.
Content warnings: None. Word count: 4413
"Ninetales, go!" Kabu's expression was serious as he released his Poke'mon onto the field.
"Alright, have at it, May!" Golden's Drednaw appeared on the field. From day 1 May had been eager to train, so it had the good fortune to have evolved already. The same could not be said of the shy Sizzlipede that had draped herself over Golden's shoulder, watching with shiny eyes. Meanwhile, Tak and Haunter were sitting at the back of the field together, cheering on Golden and their fellow Poke'mon.
"I'm not surprised you're going for the type advantage." Kabu commented.
"That is the advantage of not being a type locked gym leader." Golden quirked back. "It's also a little coincidental in the case of May."
The two trainers were not idly making banter. Both of them was sizing up their opponents Poke'mon, contemplating how the battle would go. Ninetales was faster, but weaker to physical hits. But if it landed a Will-o-wisp on May, that would have quite an impact on the battle. But there was no doubt that in casting such an attack, Ninetales would take a solid hit. Both trainers were aware of this immediately, and adjusted as such.
"Will-o-wisp!" Kabu commanded suddenly. If he could get the upper hand quickly...
"Protect!" Golden called out. May ducked into it's shell just in time, Will-o-wisp passing harmlessly by. "Rock Tomb!" If May could move fast enough, Ninetales could be slowed and trapped-
Ninetales dashed away, dodging the falling rocks with an impressive grace. Golden cursed under her breath, but even Kabu could see from across the field that she was grinning.
"Quick attack!" Ninetales moved fast, and May had little hope of dodging.
"Water gun!" Despite the attack being Special rather than Physical, and thus far weaker, Golden didn't see a better option. Ninetales darted in and out, taking the occasional hit from water gun. This was a battle of attrition. But Golden had a feeling there was more coming.
"Fire spin!"
"Protect!" In a battle of attrition, a move like that would turn the tide. Golden grit her teeth, knowing what was coming next. She had no doubt Kabu had known she would use Protect there.
"Will-o-wisp!" "Liquidation!"
Golden gave out her command at the same time as Kabu. He looked surprised, but understanding crossed his face. Ninetales was already too close to change course - it had no chance to dodge May's full-bodied water attack. While Ninetales did get it's Will-o-wisp attack off, the cost was most of it's hit points. If the battle of attrition continued now, it was clear that Ninetales would lose. Kabu weighed the situation. If this was a gym challenger, he would go all out to knock out Golden's Poke'mon. But they'd agreed on one-on-one matches.
"We concede." Kabu raised up a hand, stalling Golden's attack. "I wasn't expecting you to know liquidate already! You and May must have been training hard."
Golden grinned. "May was very eager. I'm sure if Ninetales had been fighting at full strength it would have been a much different fight!" Golden commented though, trying not to seem overly pleased with her victory to save Kabu's feelings.
"Hm. In any case. Ready for round 2?" Kabu quirked a brow at her, face still serious. She could sense a hint of humor in his tone, and was relieved by it.
"You bet! Xarkussi!" Golden tossed the Poke'ball with a flourish, revealing a Runerigus.
Kabu looked surprised as he drew his own Poke'ball. "Runerigus is a rare sight."
"It was certainly a pain to get the little fella evolved." Golden commented, face growing focused as Kabu's Arcanine appeared on the field. "Took a fair amount of time!"
"I would imagine so." Kabu replied, biding time as he considered the situation. Runerigus was slow. Arcanine was fast. But if Golden's Runerigus had trained as much as her Drednaw had, and it knew Earthquake...speed wouldn't much matter. Arcanine didn't have much to counter that. Even if Kabu switched over to using his full strength, it would be a rough fight for him.
"Agility." Kabu figured his best bet was to outspeed Runerigus and lay into it with damage.
"Shadow claw!" Golden didn't waste the opportunity. Xarkussi slashed at Arcanine with a shadow that rose up from the floor, landing a solid hit. Arcanine shook the attack off, but shivered. The shadow remained stuck onto it's fur, making it a slightly easier target.
Kabu frowned at that. "Bite!" Arcanine latched onto Xarkussi. Golden was glad that Runerigus tended to have such high defense - the attack hit hard regardless though.
"Sand tomb!" It was hard for Xarkussi to miss at such a close angle. That and the effects of shadow claw made the attack hit harder, damaging Arcanine a fair bit. It growled in response, relinquishing it's hold on Xarkussi to back up to a respectable distance, flinching as the sand rubbed against it painfully.
"Agility, and follow that up with another Bite!"
Arcanine had time to make both moves, but the sand was distracting. Runerigus still took the hit, but it retaliated immediately with Disable. Kabu's signature scowl deepened as he realized his super effective move was out of play. Fine - Flame Wheel was strong enough.
"Agility, and then Flame Wheel!"
Again, Runerigus took the hit like a champ, it's expression still unerringly pleased. As Arcanine retreated, Golden made an important play.
"Haze." A blue ish haze filled the arena for a moment, reducing all stat changes the two Poke'mon had taken. Kabu's eyes widened. His Agility advantage was diminishing. Unfortunately, Intimidate was lifted now too, making Runerigus stronger. Was she going to use Earthquake now?
Arcanine was still faster.
"Flame Wheel!" Arcanine lunged forward, making contact with Runerigus. It's health went dangerously low. But Runerigus grabbed onto Arcanine.
"Stone Edge!" With the assist from Shadow Claw still loosely in effect, Xarkussi landed a critical hit. Arcanine collapsed with a yelp as the stone struck it from below.
"Okay, that was pretty stressful." Golden said, slouching for a moment, and wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"I was convinced you were going to use Earthquake." Kabu replied, healing up Arcanine.
"Xarkussi isn't quite that high level yet. But I was able to buy a Stone Edge TR off of someone."
"I wasn't expecting that Haze either. Very devious of the two of you."
"Oh! Thank you!" Golden looked down shyly, feeling her heart swell as Kabu praised her. It felt nice to win, even if she knew he wasn't at his full strength.
"I'm not sure you would have won if you hadn't disabled Bite, though."
"Yes, that's...very true. In truth, I should have sent Xarkussi out to fight Ninetales if I was really thinking about type advantages."
Kabu nodded. "But you managed without doing that, using your Poke'mon's natural talents and a healthy dose of planning."
"Absolutely. Now it's time for the serious battle. Ace against ace." A bead of sweat dripped down Golden's face. Last time they'd let the two Poke'mon sort it out themselves for a while. Golden had thought long and hard about how to defeat Kabu's Centiskorch, and she was sure Kabu had done the same for her. She still didn't have a fool proof plan for the Gigantamax scenario. But she fully expected him to use all the tools at his disposal. She'd been clear that it was what she'd wanted.
Athens and Centiskorch took to the field. Golden wasted no time.
"Thunder Wave!" She called out. Athens responded instantly, their plan having been discussed ahead of time. Despite the shock that flashed across Kabu's face, Centiskorch dodged out of the way, weaving through the bolts of electricity gracefully.
"Fire Lash!"
"Retreat!"
Athens took to the air, a lick of flames brushing their underbelly as they didn't entirely escape Centiskorch's surprising response. Golden grit her teeth. Had Kabu been holding back in their first fight? Or had his training really been so effective? Or perhaps he'd simply found his motivation again.
"Air Slash!" Athens swooped down and blasted air at Centiskorch, who took the hit, unable to dodge the flurry of wind. In return, Centiskorch launched another Fire Lash, which landed more squarely. Golden knew that Fire Lash reduced the target's defense. She could see the effect on Athens, who was shaking off sweat as they flew out of reach, waiting for Golden's next command. Centiskorch had learned how to predict Athen's movements more consistently, and Golden knew they wouldn't get in any free hits.
Without waiting for Golden's command, Athens dove in, feinting for an Air Slash. At the last second, they changed their form, letting out a cry as they unleashed a Thunder Wave. Centiskorch was unable to fully dodge, but grabbed onto Athens with a Crunch, preventing the Poke'mon from taking to the air again. Athens cried out.
"Dazzling Gleam! Break free!" Golden cried urgently in response.
"Don't let go, Centiskorch! Keep Crunching!" Kabu yelled.
But a Dazzling Gleam to the face was more than Centiskorch could handle, even as the paralysis making it's jaw stiff made it hard to release. Athens made a mad dash for the sky, wavering for a moment before gaining sufficient altitude.
This was much worse than last time.
But Golden (and Athens) watched Centiskorch, noticing the Thunder Wave still arcing over it's body. Now there was a chance they could land hits unhindered.
"Another Air Slash!" Athens dove down, landing a hit before Centiskorch could retaliate. The paralysis was doing it's job. This continued for a few turns - Athens would dive in and assess if it was safe before landing an Air Slash on the poor Centiskorch. Kabu was gritting his teeth. The tide was turning.
"We'll risk it." Kabu murmured. "Get ready to Gigantamax!" Kabu held up his Dynamax band as he withdrew Centiskorch. Within moments the poke'ball had grown large, and Kabu threw it onto the field with fiery eyes. The massive Gigantamaxed form of Centiskorch appeared on the field. Golden felt a burst of heat from it, holding an arm up over her face. Athens was in a tizzy now, darting around trying to figure out how to be out of reach now.
"Remember our plan!" Golden yelled up at it. Centiskorch was still paralyzed. If they could dodge the first attack, maybe they could blind Centiskorch with a Dazzling Gleam right up in it's eyes.
"Max Flare!" Kabu called out.
Athens sped away as fast as it could, but with Centiskorch at that size, it was difficult to dodge it's attacks. Athens took the attack, tumbling to the ground. Golden could see that their health was low. But neither of them would give up.
Athens had tactically fallen closer to Centiskorch. With the attack ended, they made a beeline up to Centiskorch's face.
"Dazzling Gleam!" Golden called out unnecessarily, as Athens was already executing the plan.
Centiskorch screeched, surprised by the bright sparkles in it's eyes. It thrashed about in response, the combination of the temporary blindness and the paralysis making it unable to respond appropriately.
"Hang in there, Centiskorch! Max Flare!"
"Air Slash before it recovers!" Feeling confident despite the odds, Athens took the paralysis as an opening, slashing across Centiskorch's back, avoiding it's blazing hot stomach. As Athens flew into sight again, Centiskorch overcame the paralysis with a massive Max Flare. Athens felt to the ground again, but this time did not get up, barely hanging on to a single hit point.
"We concede!" Golden yelled, dashing onto the field with a Full Restore at the ready. At Kabu's signal, Centiskorch shrank down to it's normal size. It looked to Kabu, who was already jogging out to give it a Full Restore and head pats.
They headed over to Golden and Athens in time to see Athens looking sorrowfully at Golden.
"Aw it's okay Athens, you did your best! That Gigantamax thing is...whew." Golden wiped some sweat from her forehead. "And Centiskorch here is a very worthy opponent."
Kabu chuckled quietly. "Thank you for that. You did a remarkable job, Athens. That paralysis could have left us high and dry if you'd landed a more solid hit with it." Athens chirped appreciatively in response, while Centiskorch chittered it's agreement.
"You've really stepped up your game since last! Or were you going easy on me the first time?" Golden asked slyly, holding out a hand to shake. Kabu blinked at the question, but shook her hand firmly.
"I wasn't going easy on you. I think I'd just lost my fire." He admitted, laughing a little to cover how silly he felt saying that. "But you helped me bring it back."
Golden grinned. "Well I'm glad! If you keep fighting like that, you'll take the gym spot back no problem!!!"
Kabu smiled. "I hope so. I'll give it my best." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "If you really want to be a competitor in Galar, we should get you a Dynamax band. It's very hard to counter your opponents Dynamax if you can't do it yourself. Your attempt was very admirable, though. I didn't expect that Dazzling Gleam."
"Aw, well, thanks." Golden laughed as well. "I suppose it won't do me much good outside of Galar, though." Kabu shook his head. Golden didn't say any more, and Kabu took the hint. She's not sure if she'll be coming back here.
"In any case, despite the odds, you did great." Kabu reiterated with a friendly smile.
Now that the battle was over, Kabu found himself taking in her appearance. She was in grey basketball shorts and a black t-shirt - clearly not her most put together outfit. But he found himself considering that she'd look good in just about anything. Her hair was pulled back, but a few extra strands had fallen as she'd run around during their match. Her cheeks were pink with the exertion.
He became aware of his own flushed state as he took in hers. Even in this state...
She was undeniably attractive to him. He swallowed, looking away.
For her own part, Golden was having very similar thoughts. From the sweat on Kabu's brow that made the unruly strands of hair stick to his forehead, to the way his muscles flexed as he moved about. She was feeling rapidly more and more undone as she looked at him, hazarding a glance over his body as he looked away.
"I guess I don't get your super special ultra rare card thing after all, then." Golden said with a sigh, forcing her eyes back up to his face. That wasn't much better, it turned out. His flushed cheeks were distracting...and there was a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face...
"You won 2 out of 3." Kabu replied, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he met her gaze.
"Oh, yeah, but...at our full power, you still won!" Golden explained, gesticulating mildly.
Kabu shook his head. "That's not how that works. Here," He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and fishing for a rare league card. He held it out to her.
Golden walked up to him, looking at it curiously.
"Oh! It's you!" Golden exclaimed, gently taking the card and holding it up to look at it.
"Yes. It is my league card after all." Kabu replied, a hint of humor clear in his voice.
"Er, yeah, it's just, it's you, but, but you're young." Golden couldn't help but stare at the card for a moment. She could safely say he'd been just as handsome back then as he was now.
Kabu chuckled quietly at her reaction. "Wonderful powers of observation."
Her gaze shot up to meet his, and she was glad her face was already warm, masking her blush at his words. His mouth was quirked upwards at the corners, a subtle smirk to match his teasing tone.
"Well I didn't know what to expect! I've never seen a rare league card before, geez." She grumbled, wandering over to her bag to put the card in her own wallet, where it would be safe from her sweat and grime. "Um, thanks, though." She smiled shyly at him.
"You earned it. Sorry I can't give you a badge."
Golden waved her hand dismissively. "Next time, you'll be in that position. I'm sure of it." She grinned at him, and he felt his heart race again, felt motivation swelling in his heart. "To that point, now that we've got the battle out of the way, we can do some real training. What do you say?"
Kabu nodded. "Let's get to it."
------------------------------------------------------------------
The training session had been rough. Golden had known she'd been taking it easy lately, with no challenge currently occupying her, but she hadn't realized how soft she'd gotten. Kabu's training sessions weren't just for the Poke'mon - he got in there and worked out with them as well, and she admired that. She had no doubt it made the Poke'mon work harder too - when their beloved human was pushing themselves too, they could draw extra strength!
She was exhausted, and Kabu was merciless. If she had asked for a break, she'd no doubt he would have given it to her. But she didn't want to lose face. Well, no, it wasn't that exactly. She just...wanted to impress him. Or at least keep up.
"Well, I think that's enough for today." Kabu commented.
"Oh, yeah? Good, yeah...good workout...whew..." Golden was hunched over, catching her breath. She smiled weakly at Kabu's words.
"Hit the showers?" Kabu suggested, coming to stand next to her. She stood up straight with a grunt of effort.
"That sounds nice." She paused, furrowing her brows. "Well, actually, all my clothes are at the hotel so...I should probably just head back there."
"Will you be able to find your way?" Kabu asked.
"Hm? Yeah, I should be fine, it's just like a short walk from here- HEY WAIT A MINUTE." Golden pouted, glaring at Kabu, who was clearly fighting off a smile. "How would I possibly get lost between here and there, huh?! I'm not that hopeless!"
"I was teasing you." Kabu said, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle a quiet laugh. "I'll shower here and then meet you at the hotel afterwards?"
Golden sighed. "Yes, yes that's fine. See you soon." She hesitated for a moment, then stuck out her tongue before spinning on her heel to leave. Even without looking back, she could feel Kabu's eyes on her. And even as she left the building, she could imagine them still, piercing silver that seemed to soften just for her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Kabu walked up to the hotel lobby, greeting the desk clerk before taking a seat on one of the couches. It had hardly been a moment when Haunter floated up from the couch cushion next to Kabu, pushing affectionately against the man's shoulder.
"Oh, Haunter. What are you doing down here?" Kabu rubbed the purple ghost's head gently, earning a purr out of him. Haunter pushed against him again, but this time it was clearly less an affectionate act and more of a, 'hey! Move!' motion. Kabu frowned.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, fixing Haunter with his stare. Haunter shook his head.
"Haunt, haunt, ter." Haunter said, floating to be between Kabu and the elevators that went to the hotel rooms. He pointed with one hand, beginning to float towards the elevators.
"You want me to come up with you?" Kabu asked. Haunter nodded. "Oh. Did Golden ask you to bring me...?" He was a little wary. As much as he wanted to trust the ghost type, there had been an incident or two.
His fears were put to rest as Haunter nodded vigorously, smiling and cooing. Satisfied, though a bit nervous, he followed Haunter into the elevator. He wondered why Golden would want him up in her hotel room to begin with. Was...was she...was there a certain intention there? He felt his face warm at the thought. While he certainly wouldn't object the idea flustered him a great deal. And it didn't seem terribly in character for her, from what he'd seen so far. But you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. There was likely some other explanation, even if he couldn't think of it at the moment.
As they arrived at the door, Haunter phased through and opened it from the inside. As Kabu stepped inside, he realized he could hear the water running in the shower. He looked at Haunter suspiciously.
"Are you sure...?" He asked, brows furrowed. If she had intentionally invited him up here while she was showering, that was...he swallowed. Haunter nodded furiously, motioning for Kabu to come further in. He hesitated.
The chittering and cooing of June and Tak caught his attention. The Sizzlipede skittered over to him, squeaking at him before climbing up his leg and torso to finally rest on his shoulder. Kabu laughed at the feeling. Meanwhile, Tak remained on the bed, clapping his hands with excitement. This convinced Kabu, for the moment. He sat down on the bed next to Tak, putting a hand on his head gently to let the fire-type know he was there. Tak giggled gleefully. Kabu couldn't help but smile.
"Did you two enjoy your training?" Kabu asked. June hadn't seemed terribly interested in battling, Golden had told him, but she'd thoroughly enjoyed the obstacle course they'd set up in the gym. She scurried up and over things happily. Tak, meanwhile, had practiced the moves that Golden considered safe for him, and had even been set up to try some of the stronger fire type moves, with some precautions due to his blindness.
The Poke'mon cheered in response to his question.
Kabu grinned wider. "I'm very glad to hear that." The water stopped. Kabu kept speaking. "June, you did a wonderful job with that obstacle course. You're quite fast." The Sizzlipede chittered at the remark, looking pleased with itself. "And you, Tak! That was a very powerful ember you had!" Tak nuzzled against Kabu's arm with his head, practically beaming.
Meanwhile, as Kabu continued his praise of her two Poke'mon, Golden was towel-drying her hair with a puzzled expression. Was she hearing another voice...? That couldn't possibly be the case. She wasn't expecting anyone, nor did anyone have access to her room. Unless there was a mistake...but surely it was obvious she was here, what with her Poke'mon and the running water...
It didn't make a shred of sense.
Shaking her head, she finished drying off her body before slipping on panties and a bra. She supposed she'd just have to wrap herself in a towel and go verify that no one was in her hotel room. She'd feel a little bit better if she had been able to get fully dressed, but she must be imagining things anyway.
Taking a breath, she forced herself to be confident, reminding herself that someone in the room was very unlikely despite what she thought she was hearing. Maybe June and Tak had gotten the tv on somehow. She opened the door and stepped out, eyes scanning the room. She froze as her eyes met Kabu's. She felt her face warm even as she saw a blush spreading across his face.
"K-Kabu! What- what are you doing here?!" She choked out, tightening the towel surreptitiously.
"I- I thought- Haunter-" Kabu spun around to look for the ghost, but he had disappeared into a shadow. "Haunter led me up here, I thought you- I thought you were behind that." Kabu's face felt incredibly hot as he stared down at his lap.
"O-oh. I see. I'm going to kill him." Golden said plainly, forcing herself to smile despite her blush, scanning the room for prickly shadows.
"I can leave." Kabu replied suddenly. He lifted June off his shoulder gently, placing her on the bed. June cried, immediately crawling back onto his lap. Tak seemed reluctant to let him go as well, gently wrapping his claws around Kabu's arm. "..."
"No, it's, um, I mean..." As much as Golden was feeling mortified, she was also delighted by how shy Kabu seemed about the situation. This felt safer, if not more intimate. A part of her was tempted to drop the towel and see how Kabu reacted, but she knew she didn't have it in her. But if she did...what kinds of things would happen, behind closed doors like this? Her heart pounded at the thought. "Just go face the wall and I'll get dressed and, uh, and it'll be fine."
Kabu swallowed, once again trying to remove June. June cried again. "June, didn't you hear Golden? And you too, Tak." At Kabu's words, Tak relinquished his hold on Kabu, chirping quietly. June scuttled up to Kabu's shoulder defiantly, staring at him.
"Good enough." Golden mumbled, crossing her arms. Her position was putting her on edge.
"Right, yes." Kabu cleared his throat, getting to his feet and crossing the room quickly. He clasped his hands behind his back tightly as he stared at the wall, biting his lip. He squeezed his eyes tight for good measure.
Golden watched for a moment. Even facing away from her, she could see his eartips were still red.
Kabu quietly held a breath as he heard the rustling sound of clothing. It felt like time was passing slowly. He wouldn't dare betray her trust and turn around to gaze at her. But he wanted to, and he had to acknowledge that within himself. His face continued to burn.
"Alright, I'm all done." Golden said, crossing her arms and trying to appear casual, though her pink cheeks betrayed her. She'd tossed on her yellow skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt. "So, um, was there something you had in mind for this afternoon?" She stared at him until he turned around and his eyes met hers.
Kabu was quiet. "Lunch." He replied, nodding to himself. That had been the reason he'd wanted to meet up again. Well, the surface level reason. "But, before that, I'm sorry." He bowed his head. "I shouldn't have entered your space without your explicit permission. And I should know better than to trust your mischief maker."
"I- it's fine. Let's not talk about it anymore." Golden suggested, feeling further heat rise on her face. "Well, other than to make sure Haunter knows he's in the doghouse the next time I see him."
They went to lunch.
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