#buck said i will injury myself and hope someone gives me attention by saving me in time for me to not die

[gayofthefae]

Jonah’s need for attention is contrasted with Eddie’s opposite childhood in hero complex but it’s also so cool to look at the unadressed similarities to Buck. Again, how two people who have been known to pull stunts as firefighters and feel better when it gets them attention, but just like Eddie and Buck, Buck’s comes from a desperation for what he didn’t have rather than a continued dependency on what he did.

#it's like a venn diagram #this show man #911 fox #jonah greenway #evan buckley #jonah said i will injure others and then save them and hope they don't die #buck said i will injury myself and hope someone gives me attention by saving me in time for me to not die

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

I’m back on my “Yakko doesn’t lose his memories” bullshit ✌

(Indulge me, okay)

***

It was a few days after the invasion when Yakko finally crept back home. The guards and soldiers were finally off the palace grounds, though some people went looting. 

The grounds were a mess. There was mud everywhere, abandoned carts; blackened grass and tramples flowers. Broken glass, melting snow and...He looked away from the blood with a shudder. He jumped over the broken glass, glancing warily at the windows; some were shattered, some weren’t. He could see bullet holes in the walls and doors. The front doors were boarded up, but Yakko found a side door that hadn’t been blocked yet.

Everything was awful. It was totally silent, as silent as the grave (Ouch, Yakko thought. Bad comparison) but it was still home.

Besides, where else could he go?

The palace was broken. His family was broken. His whole country was broken, thanks to Salazar. His little siblings and Scratchy were in Burbank and Yakko didn’t know how to get there. They wouldn’t be able to come back for him.

He looked around the deserted hallways, biting his lip and clutching his bag of clothes close to his chest. Well...He could always try and sell some stuff, couldn’t he? That was what other people were doing. He just needed something small, enough for a train ticket. Wait for the borders to open back up and then head to Burbank. He knew Scratchy’s address, and Nurse’s. He could get there no problem!

Yakko smiled as he walked then, relief coursing through him. He’d be fine. He had a plan. 

He sang their lullaby quietly to himself as he approached the ballroom. Unlike other parts of the palace, the ballroom looked weirdly normal. Still pristine. He couldn’t quite say if that made it better or worse. He kept waiting for his parents to appear on their thrones.

He’d just reached Angelina’s throne when someone shouted, “What are you doing in here?”

Yakko yelped, dropping his bag. He spun around, fists raised, fangs on show, trying to make himself look big.

And he froze.

The voice belonged to a mouse. A mouse who was scurrying towards him with another mouse in tow. A mouse who took one good look at Yakko and stopped dead with a strangled gasp.

“It’s you!” Yakko and the mouse both cried, pointing at each other. Yakko clutched his pendant tightly and ran to the mice, crashing to his knees.

“Are you okay?” Yakko demanded at the same time as the taller mouse. The taller mouse with the buck teeth smiled shyly and grabbed Yakko’s hand, squeezing tightly. The smaller mouse, the very mouse who had saved Yakko, Wakko and Dot only a few days ago, gaped at Yakko in astonishment.

“I...I’m well, child,” he said. His voice still sounded strangled, all awkward and hitched. He shook his head, eyes wide.

“Narf! I’m happy you’re okay, Prince Yakko!” the taller mouse said. He beamed at Yakko and added, “I’m Pinky.”

“I’m Yakko,” Yakko said.

The smaller mouse bowed. “The Brain, at your service, Your Highness.” He straightened up and looked Yakko over in bewilderment. “But what are you doing here? What happened?”

Yakko winced, clutching his pendant so tightly its edges dug uncomfortably into his palm.

“I...I fell,” he admitted in a whisper. “I slipped and...I couldn’t get on the train, I fell onto the tracks and...” He shook his head, heart pounding. Dot’s scream echoed on and on in his head. “I landed on my head, I think. I got knocked out.”

Pinky and Brain both looked horrified. Pinky’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Well, for pity’s sake!” Brain suddenly exploded. “I hope you’ve had medical attention!”

Yakko shook his head.

“We’re going upstairs,” Brain ordered. He pointed to the doors. “And I will check your injuries myself if I must, but you will rest, is that understood?”

“Brain,” Pinky cried. “Zoit! Don’t yell at him, he’s only little!”

But Yakko laughed. He laughed so hard it hurt his chest.

“Shouldn’t- uuuuhhh, shouldn’t I give orders?” he asked.

Brain folded his arms. “Be that as it may,” he said. “You will do what I say. You can prank me later.”

“You mean thank you later?”

“Prank. I know what you’re like, Your Highness.”

And despite everything, Yakko smiled as he got to his feet. He’d expected his home to be totally empty, but it seemed like he’d just made two new special friends- the good kind of special this time.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s a deal.”

#yakko remembers au #anastasia au #once upon a december #once upon a december series #yakko warner #the brain #pinky #pinky and the brain #pinky and brain are dads now #animaniacs #animaniacs fanfic #my writing #i'm back on my bullshit #indulge me okay #indulge my bullshit #self indulgent writing #yakko wakko and dot #animaniacs fanfiction #snippets #this is just for fun tbh

[dabifixation]

see you later

pairings: dabi x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, angst, major character death, mha manga spoilers, slight gore, MINORS DNI

summary: Dabi knew he had to end things soon before they got out of hand. He knew this wasn't supposed to last long, he told himself that everytime he left your apartment in the early hours of the morning. Until he found himself back here again, in your arms and lost between your thighs.

word count: 4.7k words

"... We encourage everyone to stay at home tonight, as there is a possibility of a severe thunderstorm, along with it flashfloods all over the city..."

The television only served as background noise for you as you moved around your kitchen. Cleaning up the dirty dishes and utensils, a small smile on your lips after the friendly company you had tonight.

It's been a while since you invited your friends over for some supper after the long depressing week you had. You needed that, the entertainment and companionship only they could offer you. You've never laughed or cried so hard in months, telling each other about your sorrows and thoughts for your futures ahead.

Being an adult was never easy, especially in a world full of rejected heroes.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't heard the warning cough behind you, or the tap against your kitchen counter. But you did give a short shriek when you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist, their chin resting on your shoulder, inhaling your scent.

You relaxed once you felt the familiar warmth of who it was. Only one person in the entire world could be dubbed a walking, breathing furnace, and it was him.

"I missed out on a big meal didn't I?" He drawled, his warm hands rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.

"Maybe if you didn't pop into my life every few months, I would've saved you a plate." You sarcastically replied, but you didn't miss the way how you sounded partially hurt.

You weren't expecting much all those years ago when you found him bloodied and passed out behind your childhood home, and you weren't expecting much now.

You never asked questions, and he never pried in your personal life. You were quite fine with that. Not everyone was an extrovert and had their whole life story ready to be dished out. He was a very private person and you respected that.

He ignored what you said and continued to nuzzle his face into your neck. Using one hand to push your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck to him.

You suppressed a sigh when you felt his warm lips give short kisses against your neck.

"I've missed you." He breathed cold air into your neck, making you stiffen at those words. He's never said something like that before, not once in the six years since you've known him.

Dabi noticed you stiffen in his arms, but he didn't say a word. He wasn't lying. He did miss you, achingly so.

He missed your stubborn attitude, the sarcastic replies that were on par with his own, the homemade cooking you offered to teach him countless of times that he doubt he'd pay attention to cause he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. But most importantly he missed you. The way your touch lingered even days after his monthly visits, the way your lips would pay close attention to the magenta scars all over his body, and the different ways you'd say his name depending on what he was doing to you.

God, he was going to miss all of this once he leaves for the League of Villains.

"I've missed you too." You shyly said, you've never admitted these words aloud before and it felt good to tell him that.

"Turn around for me, I wanna see how good you look." He whispered in your neck.

"Dabi I'm wearing nothing but my puppy printed sweater." You deadpanned.

"It doesn't matter, you always look good no matter what." He playfully nipped your ear, making you roll your eyes despite the heat in your body relocating to your cheeks.

You turned around to face him, a beaming smile on your face that was only ever directed at him. Your heart always soared whenever you looked at him. He was beautiful. The most beautiful man you've ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. His eyes were the most vibrant blue you've ever seen, little specks of grey dancing in those pretty blues that were half lidded but always calculative and aware of his surroundings. He licked his lips, bringing your attention to the plump flesh that were an interesting contrast between soft and jagged, and the pink tongue residing in his mouth.

Your eyes were transfixed on his appearance, making sure no hair on his head was missing or any new injuries to his increasing collection. You rested your forehead against his hard chest once you found nothing out of place, letting out a sigh of relief when you finalized that he was okay, and not sporting a limp or any other injury.

"Damn, I stress you out that much huh doll?" You could hear the smirk in his voice, but didn't have the energy to make a snarky remark, only offering him a small smile.

"Your visits are becoming less and less you know, the last time I saw you was five months ago. I was..." so worried about you, you wanted to say. You were so worried that you stayed up everyday, two hours after your initial bedtime hoping that he'd at least show up once in those five months. He didn't, and you were beginning to think he never would, until tonight. You didn't want to tell him that.

He wouldn't care.

You felt embarrassed that you were crying to your friends about him earlier on. Scared that you'd never see him again, not because he's moved on from you as you know there's nothing keeping him here other than sex and a warm bed to crash in, but because you were worried he'd get himself injured or worse. And you didn't like dwelling on what worse could imply.

"I kno–" Dabi's words were cut off by a small sneeze he muffled into his arm. Sneezing twice more before he regained his composure.

You only noticed now that his clothes were slightly damp and heavier than usual. It made your eyesbrows furrow.

"How long were you in the rain Dabi?" You questioned, knowing you wouldn't like whatever answer he'd come up with.

"Ever since your lady friends came by."

"That was over two hours ago? You've been sitting in the rain this entire time?!" You felt your blood pressure rising when he only shrugged at your accusations. It was like arguing with a toddler sometimes.

You sighed again, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I've got a box of mens clothes laying around here somewhere. Go take a shower and I'll get them for you and make you a cup of hot tea."

He quirked one eyebrow up, staring intensely at you.

"What?" You averted your eyes away from his, embarrassed that he was searching your face for something.

He shrugged again, rolling his battered coat off his shoulders and started stripping the rest of his clothes off. You turned around before he could go any further. Busying yourself with getting his tea ready.

Dabi stopped undressing, standing there with nothing but his jeans on. Watching you as you got the correct items in order to make him tea, muttering to yourself about which biscuits he might like with it.

He liked the butterscotch ones, but he didn't bother opening his mouth. Too memorized by the way you moved around so frantically as if he was dying instead of coming down with a small cold.

He liked that about you, he liked a lot of things about you. Especially the way you cared about the simplest things pertaining to him even during moments of intimacy. You treated him like glass even if he didn't offer the same treatment in return, not because he didn't want to, he just didn't know how to go about it.

He frowned.

Dabi was only ever vulnerable around you, and you didn't even realize it. You didn't know the power you had over him, and he'd like to keep it that way. Afraid that you'd use it against him and he wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt you for that. He could never hurt you.

He found himself walking towards you on impulse, hugging your waist once again. This time pressing his body flush against yours. He heard you gasp and that pulled a smirk out of him.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He gripped your hip with one hand, and snuck the other hand underneath your shirt. His lips against your neck, right above your pulse point.

Your stomach tensed when you felt his hot fingers rubbing soothing circles against it. He pressed you further against him, making you feel the growing length against your ass. You bit your lip, stopping yourself from whimpering too early.

"The way your nipples are perking up so nicely for me in this shirt that's practically transparent is driving me nuts." He snaked his hand further up your shirt, brushing the skin underneath your breasts gently. Your breath caught in your throat as you gripped the counter tightly.

Your panties were clinging to your pussy uncomfortably, you could feel the material getting wetter with each passing second. You tried rubbing your thighs together for some friction, but Dabi wasn't having any of it. He clicked his tongue out of irritation, the hand on your hips falling towards your inner thighs, parting your legs. His hold was strong enough to prevent you from rubbing your thighs together, you wanted to whine when he didn't place his hand right where you wanted them.

Just a little higher.

"I asked you a question doll." He spoke into your hair, taking a deep breath from the rooibos shampoo you used. The smell turned him on even more.

"W-what question?" You whimpered, resting the back of your head onto his chest, sighing out as he brushed the pads of his thumb against your hardened nipples.

"I don't like repeating myself." He growled, pinching your nipples harshly causing you to whimper pathetically in his arms. He continue to tweak at your nipples roughly before groping your breast and fondling it the way he liked.

"Dabi... " You mewled.

"Don't. Don't say my name like that." He gave your nipples a warning pinch.

You bucked up into his hips, involuntarily grinding against his cock. The swollen head rubbing in between your ass despite the jeans restricting him. Making him choke back a groan.

Dabi was just as impatient as was it in his nature to tease. He took his hand away from between your thighs to quickly lick the tips of his index and middle finger, bringing them back towards your aching pussy. You were such a good girl, not once taking the opportunity to touch yourself or rub your thighs together.

He wasted no time in pushing your thong to the side, sucking a deep breath through his teeth when he rubbed his fingers through your slit collecting the thick moisture gathered there. You always got so wet for him.

After coating his fingers in your arousal, he moved his fingers towards the bundle of nerves that had been pulsing ever since he rocked up at your house.

You let out a breathy yes, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Dabi rubbed your clit just the way you liked, grinding it down in tight circles that had your toes curling. He pinched at your clit piercing, knowing how much you liked it when he played with the metal and how easily it could make you gush for him. The pleasure was overwhelming and had you feeling light headed.

Without warning, Dabi plunged those same two fingers into your tight pussy. You bit back a scream as your body jerked and writhed against him. Hips chasing after his fingers as they thrusted deeper into your spongy walls, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit. The stimulation was too much for you.

"Fuck!" You shouted out, bringing your hand down to his, gripping on his wrist tightly so he could go deeper and faster. He could get you cumming around his two fingers alone, he didn't need more than that.

"Dabi please." You begged.

"Please what?" He asked curiously, knowing exactly what you so deeply craved.

The hand around your breast disappeared. He reached for his jeans so he could unzip it and pull it down. A short relieved sigh left his lips once his jeans were pulled down his thighs, just enough to free his heavy cock from all that pressure. He gripped his cock in his free hand, he wanted to feel you around him so bad but he had to be patient, as much as he hated it.

Dabi watched you from underneath his dark lashes, the way your body responded to him in delicious squirms and moans drove him mad. He added pressure to your clit, grinding his palm hard against it. Your body rocked back into him for more, a high pitched wail leaving those beautiful lips he couldn't wait to claim.

"I want you ins- shit shit shit!" He watched your body shaking silently against him, thighs trembling, pussy clamping so hard around his fingers he hissed as he pulled them out and quickly replaced them with his angry, pulsing cock.

"Fuck." Dabi let out breathlessly in your ear, feeling you clench and gush around him as you came. He wasn't prepared for this. To feel you around him after five long excruciating months. He loved the way your pussy gripped onto him after all these years, as if it was the first time all over again.

Dabi pulled your head back by your chin so he could look into your eyes as he drove you into your next orgasm. Ignoring your pained whimpers of pleasure from being overstimulated like this. He dragged his cock slowly out of you, holding back a gasp as he slid out of your warm walls, missing the snug warmth around him, and then slammed right back into you without warning, making you cry out.

Your ass bounced against his thighs as he gained momentum, making him cuss underneath his breath at the squelching noises that came along with it and the mess you made on his jeans. Your hands fell down to Dabi's thighs, gripping them tightly but not tight enough to leave your mark, as he practically seethed from the power trip of fucking you after so long.

The drag of his cock inside you had you nearing your second orgasm so soon, and with the animalistic grunts Dabi let out, you could tell he wasn't too far behind. He usually lasted longer than this, way longer, he underestimated how much he truly missed you it seemed.

"Dhabi... Phleasinside... Please!" He could barely make out what you were saying, a stroke to his ego at fucking you so silly to a point you couldn't use your words properly.

"What doll? Use your words." There was a slight wheeze to his words, your pussy clenching so tightly around him had him close to losing his breath.

"Please cum inside... fuck your cum inside me please. Please!" You momentarily gained back your speech long enough to form coherent sentences. You screwed your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm nearing.

His grip on your hips tightened immensely, no doubt leaving his fingerprints there for days. He wouldn't last much longer and you knew it, the telltale signs of his thighs tensing and the urgent bucking of his hips told you he was close.

Dabi let out a groan so deep from the very depths of his stomach, goosebumps began to rise on your sore arms from the intense sound alone. He forced your head to the back so he could kiss you as he came, making a sound so damn carnal it had you cumming alongside him.

The two of you came together in perfect harmony, your pussy clenching down so hard on his cock it had you lurching forward from the force, breaking the heated kiss. Long strings of hot semen shot up into your awaiting womb, dripping down your thighs when it had no more room to go.

Your breathing was uneven, your chest and throat burning from your screaming session. Forever grateful that you didn't live by your parents anymore, back when you had to muffle all your moans from when you and Dabi used to fool around even back then.

He was no better, his breathing shallow and unsteady.

Dabi didn't pull out just yet, savoring the moment of the two of you being joined as one. His fingers traced the long line running down your back, not caring how sweaty you were as he kissed your shoulders gently in gratitude. After awhile he pulled his softened cock out of you, groaning from the oversensitivity while you winced from the evidence of what took place running down your shaky thighs.

The high from sex quickly came crashing down on him. He wasn't here to have sex with you, it just happened. Guilt began to chew at his mind from what he was about to do next, but the way you looked at him, with those caring eyes someone like him didn't deserve, made him drag this moment out far longer than it should've been.

He wasn't a ''now rather than later'' kind of guy after all.

"Let's get you cleaned up." His stomach churned when he watched you look up at him in confusion.

That's right, Dabi never cared about aftercare or basking in the afterglow. He thought it was unnecessary, but couldn't say he hasn't wondered how it would feel to have you running your fingers through his hair and humming childhood lullabies the way his mother used to do to him.

A pang shot out to his heart at the thought of his mother, quickly stomping those traitorous thoughts from making an appearance tonight. Not now, he thought. Returning his full attention towards you and your warm hand grasping his own. Squeezing it gently to bring him back down to earth.

Usually after he was done he'd leave, not that you were bitter about it or anything. That's just how it was. A small smirk would grace his two-toned lips with a "See you later" sent your way before he left your apartment. It was a little tradition shared between you two, the first time he said it you were still 16, applying ointment to his injuries after you found him in your parents backyard. He abruptly left without so much as a thank you, only offering those three words.

Now whenever he left, he'd always say those words to ease your brewing anxiety in promise of seeing you next time. And he never broke that promise.

He didn't speak to you about it, but you could tell he risked everything by coming to your place every once in awhile. You were not ignorant to the things Dabi did, some part of you knew he was involved with some shady things. Things you didn't want to bring up with him.

A man didn't get that many scars in their 23 years of life by being a good samaritan.

You reached your shower, stepping in while Dabi adjusted the settings to both of your liking, joining you once he was satisfied. You've come to love the heat as much as him, hot showers always reminded you of the flame user.

The water ran hot against the both of you. You looked up at Dabi, surprised to see him watching you. For a short moment, you held his gaze. Wondering what could possibly be running through his head that had him looking so defeated.

He wanted to tell you then and there that he'd have to leave for good this time. The League weren't people to be taken lightly, especially with that unhinged brat as their leader. He wouldn't be surprised if the creepy fucker was the type to kill the loved ones of people in order to maintain compliance.

But Dabi kept his mouth, and reached for your blue loofah instead. Squirting some of your lemon scented body wash onto it, scrunching it up so it could get more soapy. He worked in silence, scrubbing your body gently with utmost care and concentration.

Hell would freeze over before Dabi allows anyone to touch a single hair on your body. He didn't care who it was, even if it was the League members, he'd make damn sure their life would end with them being nothing but dirt underneath his shoe. He had to stop coming over after tonight, he was heading into dangerous, unknown territory afterall and he'd rather avoid killing the people he needed to exploit. His plans were finally at his fingers tips, and he wasn't about to throw them away over sex.

No, it was more than sex, no matter how many times he tried convincing himself that he was only here for one reason, he'd just end up fooling himself. At night when he'd look for shelter on the streets, when his quirk couldn't keep him warm the way he wanted, you'd plague his mind with your sweet smile and honey voice. Scolding him for not taking better care of himself and that he could crash at your place if he needed to get back on his feet.

That's why Dabi stopped scrubbing you just as you began to relax at the newfound comfort. You felt his hands tense against your body, making you turn around in concern.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" You were so concerned about him, his chest tightened. Why did you care so much about someone like him. You were so ignorant and stupid. Could you not see the blood on his hands from all the innocent people he convinced himself he killed out of pleasure. It infuriated him to no end, but he could never get mad at you. Not really. He tried pushing you away before, but you were as stubborn as him so he gave up on that method.

Your shoulders fell from his lack of response.

You were too grown to be playing guessing games with him, it was cute entertaining it before, but not now. Not when you were just coming to terms with... with what exactly?

You had an inkling of what was going on, but didn't want to push further. If he was going to tell you, he would. So you asked the next best thing.

"When will you be back?" You asked hopefully, water running down your face. He flashed you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His fingers brushing your wet hair out of your face. He learned in, placing a soft kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

"You're so important to me and I don't want you getting hurt because of my suicidal actions." Was what Dabi wanted to say, but he didn't.

So Dabi did what Dabi did best, deflect from the situation and push his true feelings down. Just when you thought you were making progress (as small as that progress was) in this twisted relationship you had with him, you were right where you started.

"I don't know when, I can't tell you exactly. But just know it won't be anytime soon." Or ever.

"Okay. Just... just stay safe." You whispered, placing your hand above his chest, where his heart was. You could feel the way his heart was beating ferociously against his chest, like a caged animal.

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, wanting to remember how soft your skin felt underneath his fingertips, wanting to remember everything from tonight before he left for good. He gave you one last kiss, this time on your lips. A quick peck that said a thousand words, and got out of the shower getting ready to leave. You stood still underneath the scorching heat of the shower, for the first time in years it actually made you flinch in pain.

You watched as he dried himself off with your towel, not paying any attention to you as his hand reached for the doorknob. Much to your relief, he spared you a brief glance that said everything you needed to know in that moment.

"See you later."

-

It's been ten months since you last saw him, almost a year. And in those ten months you've moved out of the city, got a new job and apartment better than the last. You were happy, content with how life has been treating you lately. Your skin was healthier and glowing, you made time for the gym and started toning your body to your liking. Everything was perfect.

It's been ten months since you last saw him, until you finally did.

There Dabi was, or as it said on the news headline, Touya Todoroki, all over your television. Standing above the ruins of a burning building. His clothes were torn, and his body full of cuts and bruises. You didn't even notice the white hair until the news reporter pointed it out.

There was a ringing in your ear as the camera zoomed in on what looked like a teenage boy emerging from one of the ruins, sporting dual coloured hair. Shouto Todoroki was his name they said, Dabi's younger brother who was a 1st year student at UA High School.

Dabi burst into those beautiful blue flames that you admired so much, while the young boy's left side burst into flames of red and orange. They appeared to get ready to fight, the entire country watching with bated breath.

And then everything happened so fast after that.

You don't remember when the tears started falling, but you do remember the loud sob that tore out of your throat as you watched Dabi's flames engulf him from over-exerting his quirk. He fell on his knees, face twisting as he screamed in pain. You couldn't hear what was happening as the mic from the camera crew melted from the overbearing heat of the two flame users, but you could tell that the pain he was going through was excruciating.

You didn't even recognize your own scream when his body swayed as his flames ate away at his flesh. The staples holding his two skin types together, melting into his flesh. You felt sick to your stomach.

Dry sobs continued to leave your sore throat as you watched the man you've known since you were 16, the man you were afraid to admit that you loved so deeply and finally came to terms with it after six years, slowly dying on national television as the entire world watched and didn't do anything about it.

The anchorman's voice was muffled as you watched your lover fall down, face first into the concrete. His body immobile. Your throat clogged up in pain, all you could do now was cry and watch as his little brother tried reviving him using CPR. A failed attempt, but what else could a 15 year old with zero experience in the medical field do.

A part of you felt like it was being ripped out as you watched heroes rush to the scene trying to pry the young boy away from his older brother. You watched as he pushed them away baring his teeth at them, tears streaming down his young face. You watched as a stretcher rolled by, two medics picking up Dabi's burnt corpse and putting him in that black body bag, zipping it up and slowly moving away from the scene.

The screen went blank, offering nothing but silence as you came to terms with what just happened, before the news anchor popped up, a nauseating smile on his pinched face.

"... The villain Dabi has finally been defeated by his own quirk. A win for hero society against their fight with the villains!!"

You were too numb to tell how many hours passed by as you sat there all alone in your room.

While the country celebrated his defeat, your entire world came crumbling down.

You would never be able to feel his warm hands cup your cheeks, pecking you all over the face while he praised you. You would never get to kiss him again, the type of kisses that left you weak in the knees. You would never get to do things with him that you always wanted to do, simple things such as falling asleep in his arms after a long day of work.

But most of all, you would never hear those three special words of his again, the words you didn't even realize until now, were his way of proclaiming his love for you.

"See you later."

#dabi #touya todoroki #touya #touya x reader #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #bnha smut #bnha imagines #manga spoilers #dabi headcanons #dabi fanfiction #mha fanfictions #anime #mha spoilers

[jamie-leah]

War of Wolves (4)

Season 1 

Episode 4 - Compromise 

Bucky x Reader 

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2636

Warnings: Not much, swearing? Minor injury

A/N: Here’s another episode! Thank you all so much for liking and sharing and you messages and wanting to be apart of it! Tags are still open for this one. Enjoy Lovelies! 

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War of Wolves Masterlist    Series Masterlist    Oneshot Masterlist 

In the next week you had explored more of the house. You met Steve properly and Sam and you had a handful of conversations with Bucky about work or asking for whatever you wanted or needed. 

Now that you felt more comfortable in your surroundings you made your way to the kitchens, bored. You walk in and take in the bustle of staff and the head chef who everyone called Al. You wandered inside and started picking up ingredients, dancing around the cooks in order to not get in their way. 

It didn’t take long for Al to see a traitor in his ranks, “oi, no, I’ve kicked you out of here once. I said that if you came back I’ll be informing Bucky, and he doesn’t like me to be displeased”. 

You give Al a sweet smile, “good morning to you too Al. Have you seen the weather outside? Its raining cats and dogs out there”. 

Al just stares at you like you’re a lunatic, but it allows you to grab the rest of your ingredients. When you start walking away from him he kicks into gear again, “no, woman, I swear if you don’t leave my kitchen now, I’m going to Bucky”. 

You set up on a table that is empty and out of the way of the staff. You give Al another smile, “you cook amazing food Al, but there’s just some things I’d like to cook myself. I’ll stay out of your way”. You then set to work, seeing him storm out of the room. 

When he comes back about half an hour later, you’re surprised when no one comes to throw you out of the kitchen. You’re grateful that everyone leaves you to your own devices.

When you finish in the kitchen, you put the food in a tub and load the dishwasher with everything you used and slip out of the kitchen. 

It was later that night that someone addressed you about the kitchen. You hear a knock on the door and Steve and Sam poke their heads through your door. They come inside as you pause the movie you were watching on the newly installed TV. 

Steve clears his throat, “so, the kitchen-“.  

Sam takes over, “Bucky sent us to tell you that the kitchen is off limits-“. 

Back to Steve, “he just likes to keep Al happy because its hard to find chefs that are good-“. 

Sam again, “and who like to cook for a mob”. 

Through the entire exchange you get up from the bed and walk over to the desk. You open the tub and walk up to them. You hold out two cupcakes to them. They look at each other then back at you, “go on, have a bite and then tell me not to cook in the kitchen ever again”. 

They take the cakes and take a bite. Their moans were too sexual for your liking, but you smile nonetheless. Sam’s the one to speak, “holy shit. That sponge and the butter cream frosting”, he turns to Steve, “you tell her not to cook ever again”. 

Steve scowls at Sam, “why do I have to be the one to tell her?”. 

Sam speaks around another bite of cake, “because you know how much I love cake and you’re the real person Bucky will be mad at if you don’t tell her to stay out of the kitchen”. They bicker for a few more minutes. 

You let them finish the cakes before gently pushing them out of the room. Before you close the door you say, “goodnight boys”.

The next morning the kitchen saga continues. You get another knock on the door. Sam pops in, “Bucky wants to see you in his office”. 

You get out of bed asking, “is it about the kitchen?”. Sam nods before leaving.

You grab the tub of cakes and head to Bucky’s office. You knock and then walk straight in. Without a word you walk across his office and take a seat opposite him and place the cakes on the desk. 

Bucky doesn’t look particularly amused, “so, apparently I sent two morons to your room last night instead of my two right hand men. Since they informed me this morning that they did not convince you to stay away from the kitchens. So, I’ll do it instead: stay out of the kitchens”. 

Bucky goes back to reading a piece of paper in front of him, clearly dismissing you. You sit up straighter in your seat, “no”. what can you say? You’re a stubborn piece of shit when you want to be. 

Bucky lets the paper fall to the desk as he studies you across the desk. He clasps his hands together on the desk, “not very many people say no to me. And even fewer get away with it”. 

You give him a small smile, “well get used to it wolfy, because I’m not budging on this”. 

You think you see laughter sparkle in his eyes, but his lips don’t change, “call me wolfy again and you’ll be living in our kennels”. 

You smile wider at him as you take a cake from the tub and push it across the desk towards him, “I’ll tell you what I told your boys, have a bite and then tell me not to go into the kitchen ever again”. 

Bucky could see the challenge in your eyes, so he didn’t hesitate to pick up the cake. You watch him take a bite, a bit of frosting sticking to his lips. He keeps eye contact with you as his tongue darts out of his mouth. 

The man is like a closed book sometimes. You had no idea how he was reacting as he put the cake down and leans back in his chair. He watches you the way you’re watching him before speaking, “I’m not backing down”. 

You suppress a smile, “you didn’t tell me never to cook in the kitchens again, so neither am I”. 

He sighs, “a compromise then. Al finishes in the kitchen around nine at night and he starts at five in the morning. You’re free to use the kitchens at the times in between”. 

You beam at him, “deal”. 

As you get up from the chair he speaks again before you can pick up the tub of cupcakes, “you can leave the tub here. Consider it payment for my troubles”. He doesn’t look at you as he says it, he just keeps scribbling notes on paper. You leave his office with a smile and a spring in your step.

Another week goes by quickly, but this week seemed to be going slower. Your heart said it had something to do with the fact that Bucky was away on a business trip, but your head told you that you were being ridiculous. 

You have moments when your mind wanders where you think about Bucky, but you catch yourself before you can go too far. You heard rumours between a few people in the house that he had a soft spot for you after the kitchen saga, but you always chalked it up to him wanting to keep you happy due to your unique abilities. 

You also didn’t see what Bucky would want with former trash when Adalee was around. Last week you had glares from her whenever you saw her, but ever since the rumours her glares had intensified. 

You were caught up thinking about it all when you see her pop up down the hall from you. You were about to go down to the kitchens again, empty tub in hand, and sadly you had to walk passed her to get there. 

As you get close you avert eye contact. Its not that you’re scared of her or submissive, but you just can’t be bothered to deal with her pettiness. Only thing is, you weren’t paying attention to her, so when she flicked her heeled foot out, you went sprawling. 

Your knee hits the hard floor as your tub clatters and slides away from you. Before you or Adalee can say anything, you hear a familiar voice. 

Steve suddenly appears at your side, “you okay?”. 

He helps you stand, and you look around to find that Adalee has vanished. You look back to Steve, “yeah, I’m fine, I just tripped”. 

He looks at you, brows furrowed, “you sure you just tripped, and it had nothing to do with a certain woman that was standing here moments ago?”. 

You swallow, “it’s nothing Steve, don’t bother him with petty bullshit. It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going”. You go to walk to pick up your tub, but your knee can’t take the weight and you nearly fall again. 

Lucky Steve has quick reflexes as you suck air in between your teeth at the pain in your knee. 

Steve lifts you up, “I’m taking you to the medical wing”. 

You start to protest, “no, Steve, it’s nothing, just a little bang on my knee-wait…we have a medical wing?”. 

Steve chuckles, “yeah, we have a medical wing, it just makes sense with our profession, time can make all the difference. And I’m taking you to be safe, if something was wrong I’m the one that would get flayed alive by Buck”. 

So, Steve takes you to the medical wing that you never knew existed, just for the doctor to tell you that your knee is bruised but that you’ll live. Despite even more protest Steve carries you all the way back to your room. 

As he makes his way there you say quietly, “don’t tell him Steve, it’s pointless to add more shit to his already busy pile. As long as I’m alive, I’m sure he doesn’t care all that much anyway”. 

Steve gives you a tired smile, “he’ll only hear it off someone else that you went to med wing Y/N”. You sigh, knowing he’s right.

Bucky was longer than a week away on the business trip. A part of you was grateful as it allowed your knee to heal completely, but the days felt longer without knowing he was in the building. 

He came back late in the night as you heard the cars pull up outside. You were having trouble sleeping, so decided to read in bed. It wasn’t long after you heard the cars that you made out a soft knock on your door. 

Bucky opens the door to see you sitting up in bed, so he opens the door fully, but stays in your doorway, “I hope you don’t mind the late visit, I saw your light on and thought you might still be awake”. 

You give him a tired smile of reassurance before he carries on, “Steve told me you went to med wing, I wanted to make sure everything was alright? I mean Steve said it was just a bruised knee, but I wanted to make sure everything healed okay?”. 

You nod as you take in his worn form. He was in smart black trousers, white shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was messy, and his eyes looked red from lack of sleep. You couldn’t help but wonder why he was worried about you when he was so tired. He speaks again, his voice low, “anything else you want to tell me?”. 

You shake your head. He lingers for a moment and starts to turn away, but you stop him, “actually yeah. Take a day off tomorrow, you look tired. Or compromise and have a lie in at least”. 

He gives you a half smile and nods, “deal…goodnight Doll”. The name rolled off his tongue so easily that you didn’t pick up on it until after he closed your door. You went to bed with butterflies that night but tried to ignore it.

Through another week Adalee didn’t stop. She would glare and sneer at you and every opportunity she got to bump into your shoulder or try to trip you up. And though they were little things, it was constant. 

You didn’t want to, but you had decided to mention it to Bucky. It was in the evening when you went looking for him. He wasn’t in his office or his room. You searched half the house before you ended up at the built-in gym. 

You open the doors and find Bucky at the punching bag. He was in black sweatpants but was shirtless. He was pounding away at the bag like his life depended on it. You could see some scars littering his body and the scars around his metal arm. Under the lights you could see sweat rolling down his broad back as the muscles shift with each punch. 

While you were staring at him, Bucky glances back before speaking through pants, “what do you want?”. 

His tone was angry and abrupt. He might as well have said go away. You knew something was wrong, so it felt stupid to complain about Adalee now. You decide to not tell him, “are you okay?”.

The bag takes a few more hits, “fine”. 

You snort, “okie dokie Pinocchio, your nose just got bigger from lying. Its okay if you don’t want to talk about it”. 

The only sounds that fill the space is punches on the bag and Bucky’s harsh breathing. You watch him for a while as you sit down on a bench. You stay in the gym with him in silence for a while, until his hits became less aggressive and his breath not as harsh. 

You then ask him a question, “what’s your favourite food?”. 

He barely glances at you, “go away Y/N”. 

You cross your legs on the bench and get even comfier after his words. The silence comes back, but after a while he speaks again, “pizza”. 

You smile, “ooo good choice. What’s your favourite colour?”

His response is quicker, “black”.  

You laugh, “I should have guessed. Are you afraid of spiders?”. 

Bucky actually stops his punching to look at you with one arched eyebrow. You give him an innocent look, “what?”. 

“I’ve killed men and you’re asking if I’m afraid of spiders?”, you see a smile playing at his lips. 

You laugh again, “we’re all afraid of something and its usually irrational”. 

Bucky chuckles, “no, I’m not afraid of spiders”. He punches the bag one more time, before grabbing it to stop it from swinging. He looks to you, “what are you doing Y/N?”. 

You avoid his real question, “asking you questions”. 

Bucky sighs, “yes, but why?”. 

You ignore it, because honestly you didn’t know, “what’s your real name?”. 

Bucky makes his way over to you and sits next to you on the bench. He stares at his hands as you watch sweat droplets race down his skin. Luckily, he lets you avoid the question, “James”. 

You turn it around in your head for a few moments, “I like it. But where does Bucky come from?”. 

“My middle name, Buchanan”, he looks up at you to see your reaction. 

You smile, “I think it suits you”. 

Before Bucky can talk again, the doors open and Adalee starts to walk through. You feel the rumble of Bucky’s growl, “fuck off Adalee”. 

She narrows her eyes at him, “and why the fuck does she get to stay?”. 

Bucky continues his growl, “get the fuck out, we’re talking about business”. 

She glares at you, before looking at Bucky, “fuck you Bucky”. She leaves with a slam of the doors. 

You raise your eyebrows, “your girlfriend is crazy”. 

Bucky looks at you and laughs, “she isn’t my girlfriend…far from it. She’s more like a fly I can’t seem to get rid of”. For some reason his words please you, but you don’t focus on it as you and Bucky talk more for a while.

War of Wolves Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @scuzmunkie @viperslunatic @loving-life-my-way @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8

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[sierraraeck]

Cleansing (Pt.1)

Spencer x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you are triggered by talk of sexual abuse and have not read how I have set up this fic, please do so. You can still read it without that content, just click here.

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: Spencer needs help dealing with his dealer. Both of them are required to take two weeks off and they decide to spend those two weeks together. Things get hot and messy and emotional. There’s a lot going on. Story nine.

Category: Some angst, some fluff, some steam, some smut.

Warnings: Cussing. Drugs. Mentions of drug abuse. Shots fired. Discussion of prior sexual abuse. Oral (both receiving), penetrative (unprotected), fingering, creampie.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is my first time writing smut. Forgive me if it’s bad and I’d love to hear your feedback. Also, I know injuries don’t heal that fast but we are just going to ignore it.

Side note: Somewhere in here I hit 50k words of fanfic.

About a week or so after Spencer and I talked about our problems, the rest of the team figured it out. Or at least I assumed the rest of the team figured it out because Hotch figured it out. Well, all of it except the kiss. That no one knew about. And things would have been fine and we would have continued going to work as usual if Reid had just listened to me. But no, instead, he made a poor decision that led to us both taking a required two weeks off.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

A knock sounded at my door. I got up to check who it was through the peephole and saw that it was none other than Spencer Reid.

“Hey Doctor Genius,” I said as I opened the door to let him in. It had been two days since he’d confronted me and slept over. “What’s up?”

There was terror in his eyes, “I need your help.”

“Of course. What’s going on?” My own eyes got wider at his apparent panic.

“The guy I’m getting the drugs from. He’s threatening me,” he said. I slowly nodded.

“Threatening to what? It’s very common for dealers to threaten certain things, especially if you are late on payment. Are you in debt?” I asked.

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

He hesitated.

“Spencer, what?”

“I’m friends with someone who lives in the apartment complex he makes me meet him at. He’s telling me that if I don’t pay him extra, or get him information on the bureau, he is going to go in there and kill them, then expose me to the FBI,” his voice had dropped to a whisper and he sounded out of breath.

“Holy shit. How’d he find this out? Do you visit this friend often?”

“No. I’ve actually never been to the apartment complex until he made me meet him there,” Spencer said.

“What? So how does he know they live there if you’ve never visited them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think he could be bluffing?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I can take that chance.”

I let out a huge sigh, realizing that I hadn’t exactly been breathing for the past couple of minutes. “Who’s your dealer?”

“He calls himself Koda.”

“Koda?” I confirmed, “As in, Dakoda?”

“I’d assume so,” Reid said, nodding.

“Shit!” Koda was one of the old Cloak members that I cut when making the switch to my underground ring. He didn’t go easily, and vowed that I would regret that decision. I’d caught wind that he was doing pretty well for himself right before I went to prison, and by now he was one of the most well known drug runners in the northeast.

“What? Why is that a problem?” the panic was rising in his voice.

“It’s nothing. I’ll handle it,” I said, already heading toward the door.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that this is bad, but I’m going to handle it,” I hissed.

“I’m coming with you.”

I rapidly turned to face him. “No. You’re not.”

“Yes I am. And you can’t stop me.”

“You wanna bet?” This was a situation Reid was way too close to and way too underprepared for, and I couldn’t afford having him get in more trouble than he already was. He needed to stay behind.

“Please. I got myself and my friend into this mess. Let me help get us out,” his eyes were pleading.

“Who is this friend anyway?” He just looked at me, mouth agape. He was struggling to find the right words. “Forget it. But if I’m going to be sticking my neck out for this person, they better be worth it.” I shot my eyebrows up at him.

“They are,” he quickly confirmed.

I exited my apartement, Spencer on my heels. I shut and locked my door and turned to head down the stairs. When we reached the bottom I turned to him.

“I have one rule. You let me handle this my way, and when I tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?”

“Got it.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

We reached a payphone, one that Spencer directed me to, and I unlocked the car doors to let him out.

“You make the call like you would any other. You need to meet at the usual spot and act as natural as possible,” I reminded him. He nodded and got out of the car, half speed walking, half jogging to the phone. The call only took a minute or so, and he bounced back into the passenger seat.

“How long?”

“20 minutes.” I nodded. I drove us over to the apartment complex, paying more attention now that I knew there was someone he cared about inside. Or at least he thought lived inside. We sat in the parking lot in silence, waiting for the 20 minutes to be over.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head, “I’m so stupid.”

“Reid, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better. I’m just glad you came to me when you did,” I said. Yes, I was pissed that this was happening but he wasn’t to blame. He didn’t know the ins and outs of how these things worked in real time, and when it got too hard he was smart enough to ask for help instead of letting it get even messier.

The 20 minutes were up. I saw Koda peek his head out from behind the building, but no new cars had shown up. Good. He’s on foot. Which also probably means he’s alone.

“Stay here,” I said, leaving the car before Reid could protest. I reached a hand behind me, just to make sure I still had my gun, then walked confidently to the back of the complex.

When I turned the corner, Koda was grinning at me.

“Ah, Aundreya! It’s about time you showed up!”

“How’ve you been, Koda?” I indulged him.

“Oh, don’t pretend you care. We both know you’re only here to save your little pet,” he said, eyes getting bigger in excitement.

“So, how’d you know I was going to be here?”

“Please, you’re fucking everywhere! I knew you’d show up eventually. You always do.” His face looked sour.

“True. You know how much I enjoy raining on your pity parades,” I taunted.

“I do. It must hurt no longer having that amusement.”

“Not really. I, too, have moved on to bigger and better things. I don’t care if you're some hot-shot runner. You’re still just a runner,” I said, clicking my tongue and shaking my head.

“Yeah, and you of all people, are now just another one of the government’s bitches,” he said, mirroring my gestures.

“Look, I’m not here to talk about our differences in life choices. I’m just here so you know to stay the hell away from my … pet, as you so graciously put it.”

“Yeah, pass. He owes me, and I’m going to get as much bang for my buck outta this one. You understand,” he said with a wink.

I scowled and cocked my head to the side. “See, that’s the thing. I wasn’t asking.”

“You don’t control me. If you wanted to, you should have thought about that six years ago.”

I rolled my eyes and my tone was demeaning. “Still on that, huh? You have got to get over it. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but you just weren’t good enough back then.”

“Yeah, back then. I’m definitely good enough now. Your loss.”

“If that’s what you need to hear,” I said. We stared each other down.

“But to get back to the point, I’m not going to leave your boy alone.”

“Yes. You are.”

“Or what?”

I smiled. I was hoping he would ask that. Before he could blink, I had his right forearm in my left hand, stepping my right leg behind his back. With my right hand on his side, I swiftly threw his entire body weight over my hip, and he hit the pavement with a thud, knocking the wind out of him. I held onto his right arm, now taking it in both hands, and put my foot down on his shoulder. I yanked his arm as hard as I could away from his body and he let out a screech.

I bent over so I was closer to his face. “Or next time, I won’t stop here.”

I released his arm and watched it drop right next to his scrunched up face. When I turned around, Spencer’s jaw was on the ground.

He wasn’t supposed to see that.

“What the hell!” I snarled. “I had one rule!”

He was stunned, his eyes glued to Koda, so I just grabbed his arm and yanked him down the alley that led back to my car.

“Hey, Aundreya!” I turned around to face the direction of the voice. Time moved in slow motion as I comprehended Koda aiming his gun at us. With my left hand, I went to pull Spencer behind me and with my right, I reached behind me to pull out my own gun.

Two shots rang out, one quickly followed by the other, as both men collapsed.

“Spencer!” I yelled, turning to him. He was on his knees and I sunk to mine. Both of his hands were clutching his right side, just under his ribcage.

“I’m okay,” he got out between shaky breaths. I called 911.

“Spencer, you’re going to be fine, the paramedics are on their way,” I assured.

He nodded his head in Koda’s direction. “What about him?”

Only then did I remember that there was someone else in the equation. I didn’t have to look to know that he was dead, but I checked anyway. I’d hit him right between the eyes. “He’s gone.”

I rushed back to Spencer and I cradled his head as more and more blood soaked his shirt. It started to seep through his hands so I placed one of mine on top, trying to apply as much pressure as I could.

“Where are they, dammit!” How could the ambulance be so slow?

“You know … the average ambulance response time … is approximately … nine minutes … and twenty-four seconds…” he tried through labored breaths.

“Shh. Don’t talk. I’ve got you,” I said. The blood flow wasn’t slowing down any time soon, so I removed my hands from him momentarily to take off my jacket, followed by my t-shirt.

“What are you-”

“Sh. I said no talking.” I ripped my shirt into strips, trying to make as many as possible that would also get the job done. “Move your hands.”

He obeyed and I quickly wrapped each one around his body, tying knots above and on top of his wound. I ended up getting five strips out of my t-shirt which wasn’t bad. I shuffled behind him and wrapped my arms around him like a sixth layer, pressing both of my hands on his side. I helped him lean back so that his head was resting on my shoulder. Shortly after, he added his hands on top of mine, both of us working hard to preserve as much blood as we could. We were frozen together, completely unmoving, both of us focused on his breathing.

Seven minutes later, the paramedics finally arrived.

“Miss, we are going to have to ask you to move aside,” they told me. But I couldn’t. I was firmly planted where I was, unable to force myself out of the way. “Miss?”

Spencer tilted his head slightly to look up at me. He attempted a small smile and nodded. “It’s okay. They’ve got me.”

I nodded at him, then the paramedics, and reluctantly gave up my spot behind him so they could help him. I winced when I saw them hoist him onto a stretcher and load him into the ambulance.

I had tunnel vision focused on Reid.

“Miss?” I jumped. “Is this yours?”

A young, blonde haired man was holding up my jacket. “Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“You did a great job. Those knots saved him a lot of blood.”

“Thanks,” I repeated. He smiled at me and placed a quick hand on my shoulder before getting into the other ambulance that had Koda’s body covered with a white sheet.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When I arrived at the hospital, the rest of the team had beat me there. I called them before I got into the car, following the second ambulance.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Penelope asked. She already had tears in her eyes.

“This guy was threatening Reid, so I went to talk to him about it, and he pulled his gun on us,” I quickly explained. They didn’t have to know about the drugs.

“Jeez,” JJ said, putting her hands on her head in distress. “Threatening him with what?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Just asking for information about the FBI or something.” It wasn’t my place to answer questions regarding Reid’s friend. I wasn’t 100% sure what he did and didn’t want them to know, so I tried to be as vague as possible, while also providing bits of the truth.

“How about you? Are you okay?” Emily asked. I surveyed myself and realized I looked a lot worse than I’d thought. I had slipped on my jacket before entering the hospital, but I neglected to zip it up because everything was so frantic. I had blood all over my jacket and my exposed stomach and bra. I had a few stains on my pants as well, but the worst of it was on my hands. I could tell my hair was ratted because I kept pushing it out of my face as a nervous habit. Which meant there was most likely blood in it as well.

“Uh, yeah. I’m better than I look,” I lied. I wasn’t injured, but I definitely felt like shit.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Emily said, placing a soft hand on my back, guiding me toward the bathroom.

I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

I was able to wash off the blood on my hands and stomach, I even put my head under the faucet to clean my hair, but my clothes were a totally different story. I didn’t have any extras, so I was forced to stay in them. I returned to the waiting area with wet hair, clean skin, and my bloodied jacket, now zipped up over my bloody bra. I sat down next to Derek and across from Aaron, Emily opting to stand behind me.

“Do you think you can answer some questions?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah. For sure.”

“Where did this happen?”

“It was behind an old apartment complex off of Revered.”

“Who were you meeting?”

“Some guy, he called himself Koda.”

“Why were you going to meet him?”

“All Reid told me was that this guy was threatening him and he needed my help. I went to talk to him, just to scare him a little. He was clearly a street rat so I knew he’d know who I am.”

“Did he show up alone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you show up alone?”

“Yes. I told Spencer to stay in the car.”

“What did you say to Koda?”

“I told him to back off, he challenged that, so I tossed him on the ground, dislocated his shoulder, and told him that if he didn’t quit messing with Reid, I wouldn’t stop next time.”

Everyone on the team knew that I could be ruthless, but each time it got explicitly pointed out, I could feel the slight tension radiating from them. I learned that part of that was rage in support of me and part of that was some other mixture of emotions against me.

“Then what?”

“Then I turned around and Reid was standing there. He wasn’t supposed to be there. I’d told him to stay in the car, I made him promise me to stay in the car. But he was there, so I tried to get us both back to the car quickly. Koda said something so I turned around, and he had drawn his gun. I reached for mine as I pulled Reid behind me. I shot Koda but not quickly enough because the next thing I knew, Reid was collapsing behind me.” Tears started welling up in my eyes at the vivid memory, the gut-wrenching feeling of panic, but I willed them not to spill over.

“What did you do then?”

“I saw that the bullet had hit him in the side and called 911. Spencer asked me about Koda, so I checked to see if he was dead and he was. I tried to apply pressure to his wound with my hands, and that’s when he informed me that it would probably take the ambulance ten minutes to arrive so I knew I had to do something else. I ripped my shirt into strips and knotted them around him, trying to stop the bleeding. It helped, but he started to bleed through onto our hands. That’s when the paramedics showed up and then we were here,” I concluded. They were all nodding at my words, gentleness in their eyes.

The doctor came out, so we all stood up, practically swarming her. “Doctor Reid is going to be fine,” we all let out a collective sigh of relief, “The bullet grazed his right side and slightly fractured his lower rib. He lost a lot of blood and we had to give him pretty extensive stitches, but he is going to be fine. He will need to be hooked up to his IV over night and put in a brace for the next couple of weeks. You can see him if you want.”

We all pushed by her, nearly tripping over each other, in order to get to his room as fast as we could. He was laying down in the hospital bed, an IV attached to his arm. He smiled at us.

“Hey guys,” he croaked. He tried to sit up but winced and laid back down.

“Hey pretty boy,” Morgan said. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible actually. How are you?” he asked, directing his attention at me.

“Well, I’m not the one in the hospital bed,” I countered.

“You always say things like that. For real,” he pleaded.

“I’m fine, rattled at most. Doing a lot better now that I know your dumbass is okay,” I said raising my eyebrows. “Why’d you do that?”

“I was worried when you hadn’t come back after a few minutes. Then I heard screaming and I had to come check on you,” he replied.

“You should have listened to me, I would have been fine. Your first instinct needs to be self preservation.”

“That’s not your first instinct,” he accused.

“Yes it is,” I defended.

“It may have been at one point, but it isn’t any more. Otherwise you wouldn’t have helped me to begin with,” he argued.

“Well there are more important people in my life now than just myself.” I looked around at the people standing in that room with me, and I was glad, and honestly relieved, that it was true.

“Aww, how sweet of you! I knew you secretly cared about me!” Morgan teased, giving me a gentle nudge.

“Oh get over yourself,” I rolled my eyes, nudging him back. I looked back at Spencer who was giving me those doe eyes. “Please, just never do that again. That goes for all of you. I don’t ever wanna see anyone else in a hospital bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Prentiss said with a smile.

“Agreed,” Spencer said.

“I hate to break this up, but Aundreya, can I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asked.

“Sure.” I followed him out into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

“I told the police the events you recounted to me and because it was self-defense, they are going to let you off. Of course, they are required to ask Reid a series of similar questions, corroborating your story, but you should be in the clear.” I nodded. That was good news, but there was something else. “However, because this wasn’t related to a case we were working on, I’m going to suspend you for two weeks.” There it was.

“Why?”

“A few reasons. What you went through is traumatic, you’ve been working really hard lately, and it would be good for Reid to have someone with him while he recovers. It would be good for both of you. So take the full two weeks and I don’t want to see you back before then,” he gave me a stern look that asked if I understood.

“Okay.”

He turned to walk back into Spencer’s room but quickly added, “And do everyone a favor by getting yourself and Reid clean during this time off.”

Part 2

Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

#criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #aundreya chambers #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #behavioral analysis unit #bau #dr spencer reid #reid #dr reid #spencer x oc #hotch #rossi #morgan #prentiss #jareau #garcia #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fanfiction

[heartbreak-of-a-marauder]

Forever and Always My Little One (1)

Title: The Second Moonrise

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x OC

Summary: Fayne is a vampire created during the first 100 years of the Originals immortal lives. Just as the end is approachings a chance encounter with the youngest original changes her life forever, and always.

Words: 1,927

1 ->

~*~*~*~*~

1348 – St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London, England.

          I laid on the unforgiving mattress of the hospital bed, gazing up at the ageing paint that decorated the ceiling. Every now and again a shiver would pass through my body causing my hands to grip the blanket a little tighter. The coating of sweat that covered me from head to toe had long since soaked through my shift causing it to stick uncomfortably to my skin. It is an indescribable feeling to have your skin burning with heat but have a chill in your bones. An endless hunger seemed to be developing in my stomach as my natural instincts pleaded to be obeyed, and the ever-increasing number of people fillings the hospital made things more difficult.    

           The silvery rays of the moon that managed to break past the clouds, crept through the window panes adding a little more light to the candlelit room. The sounds of raspy breathing and soft coughing were two of the few things that could be heard across the wide expanse of rooms. Scenes of the vivid past that had poisoned my dreams would soon spill into my waking moments as the days went on and to fight them would cause painful aches in my head.  

           Slowly I pushed myself up into a sitting position, the bed frame creaked slightly due to the changing positions of pressure. The calm of the room was soon disturbed by my own coughing when the dryness could no longer be ignored. The coughing became more violent to the point of wrenching. Removing my hand from my mouth I instantly zeroed in on the red splodges that mingled with mucus. A single tear slid down my cheek, I was still greedy for life despite having taken more time than I was originally dealt. But the evidence in my hand made it plain that I would not last much longer.

           A shadow in the corner of my eye catches my attention, it moves swiftly with an inhuman likeness, it lurks around the cots at the far end of the room; hovering almost. It leans over one of the cots seemingly surveying the individual that lay in it. I shift slightly to get a better view, even in the poor light I can see how its back stiffens like a creature caught in the act. In the same quiet yet elegant manner he moves away from his previous point of interest and begins his journey towards my bed.  

“Are you well miss?” A distinct British accent can be heard as he lowered the hood of the cloak.      

“As well as I am able to be sir.” I offer politely in return.  

“I hope circumstances could be better for you.” Cocking his head to the side.  

“Many have said that it is God’s will, a punishment of sorts.” I offered some of the fatalistic babble given to me by a now-deceased person.  

The corners of his mouth turned upwards a little after hearing my comment, he seemed to like the façade I had constructed. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he lowers himself to sit on the edge of my cot.  

“The fragility of human life…” He muses to himself while an outstretched hand toys with a lock of hair that has fallen over my shoulder. He pulls his attention away from the strands in his fingers to look me directly in the eye.  

“I can only imagine your wildest fantasies and the adventure you thought you may have had.” He voices his thought, without waiting for a reply he continues. “What if I could give you the means to travel the world and see its wonders?"  

"Money is of no use to a person doomed to die my Lord..." I mused lowly.  

The stranger lets out a hearty chuckle, allowing a grin to grace his face. He looks away from me for a moment before he brings his gaze back to mine.  

"Money is not what I offer dear girl, I can give you so much more." He boasts while leaning a little closer, when he is a hair's breadth away from my ear he whispers, "I can give you eternal life." He stays there for a moment inhaling deeply capturing my scent.  

When he draws back the grin he previously wore is gone, instead, his brows have pulled together and his mouth is in a straight line. The amusement that had occupied his eyes has iced over, and he sits very still observing me.  

He knows why I am dying.  

"Eternal life has been good for me up until now," I sigh while peeling back the sleeve of my shift, smiling sourly when I hear his sharp intake of breath. "And I admit that I lust for more, but this is a death sentence, not even a vampire can escape." I break my eyes away from his brown ones to focus on the putrid bite.    

"I can still give you eternal life" He speaks after a while, determination lacing his words.  

A wry smile forms on my face. "Then I would encourage you to let go of those follies, a bite from a werewolf is final, no one survives."  

"Were you not told to look a gift horse in the mouth girl?" He copies my expression.  

I narrow my eyes at his tone, hunger mixed with a fevers rage proves to be a volatile mix. "I am no child sir, my name is Fayne and you shall address me as such."  

"Then you shall address me as Kol Mikaelson, little one." He fires back, I huff harshly at his use of the pet name.  

He stands abruptly and straightens out his clothing, all the while his eyes never leaving mine. "Then I propose a wager of sorts, should I save you by the second moon rise then you shall accompany me in my travels" He declares.  

"And if you do not?" I ask with morbid curiosity.  

He smirks. "I am sure you can work that out for yourself little one, goodbye for now." In the blink of an eye, he is gone.  

_ _ _ _ _ _

The sun was beginning to set on the eve of the second moonrise, vast orange beams forced their way into the crowded room. I had not laid all my faith in Kol and his abilities to save me, but time was running out on his wager, and I was growing less lucid with every minute. I wanted to be cured but it was surely something of a fantasy. I was fighting to stay in the uncomfortable cot. My gums burned as my fangs fought to be free, the scent of blood was everywhere, the thread of humanity I clung to was beginning to fray.  

In an instant, the thread had broken, and the animal inside came barrelling to the forefront. I didn’t feel the thick veins appear on my face nor the elongation of my fangs, I simply gave in to nature and it took me to a place I would be grateful for. 

I loomed over my unsuspecting victim, they were here for injury, not illness, and it smelled so good. Quietly I hike up the shift unit it allows me to comfortable straddle his stomach. I crouch over him dragging the tip of my nose across his exposed skin before settling by his neck, I do not waste time or thought before biting down hard. I feel the way he fights weakly beneath me, not quite ready to die but I show no mercy and quickly drain him dry.  

I attach myself to every victim like a newly born babe suckling from its mother. I break free from the current poor soul who serves as my dinner, breathing deeply I tip my head back. Never has it felt so good. Once again, I lower my head in preparation to finish my meal, but I don’t get near her delicate skin as hand fists itself in my hair dragging me away.  

I buck and thrash like a wild animal, but the mysterious assailant further restrains me. The scent of sickness invades my nose informing me we have returned to my cot. They throw me harshly towards it, I whirl around preparing to attack but stop when I see Kol has returned with a stranger.  

"She has got fight brother." He smirks at me.  

“Come now brother, we don’t have all night.” Kol hurries, earning a sigh from the other man.  

"I struggle to see why I should help a diluted bloodline but as you can see my brother insists." He teases, I look in Kol's direction for an indication that this is a jest, but his face is emotionless.  

"Get on with it Niklaus." His nonchalant tone shocks me.  

Niklaus takes a few steps towards me but I cannot escape the feeling that he is a predator and I his prey.  

"Come now love, it will be painless; I promise." He chuckles before biting his wrist, my eyes switch between his wrist and face in disbelief. After seeing my hesitation, he uses his abilities to force his wrist into my mouth. The blood trickles down my throat for a few moments before he removes it.  

He gives a curt nod towards Kol before disappearing.  

"Vampire blood? You think that it will magically cure me?" I scoff at Kol, his face hardens.  

"A 'thank you' is customary for when someone helps you." He retorts.  

"Thank you?!" I cried incredulously, in a moment I appear before him. "You have not helped."  

Roughly he grabs onto my right elbow drawing me closer to him, but also bringing my arm into view, he wastes no time in ripping the fabric of the sleeve back to reveal that the wound is indeed healing. The inflammation and discolouration had receded considerably and the bite had shrunk. I stared in disbelief, it had worked. Swallowing my pride and looked up at Kol.  

"Thank you." It would be barely audible to human ears, but I knew he had heard me.  

He smirks, liking that I had given in. "Now we must depart." He states while walking towards the entrance to the ward.  

"Depart?" I ask, still stood near the cot.  

He casts a glance over his shoulder before stopping. "I won the wager little one, you are now my travelling companion." He seems to think better of a previous decision and begins to walk back towards me, or rather past me.  

"And where will we go?" I ask curiously as he peers out of the now open window. 

He beckons me to him with a flick of his wrist, and slowly I come to join him by the window. He uses the inside of his dark cloak to wipe around my mouth and down my neck. Once satisfied he unbuckles it from his neck and sweeps it over my shoulders before securing it.  

"There is no rush in having ready-made plans, that is the beauty of eternity."  

"So, when are we to leave?" I ask not following.    

"Now." He replies simply while smirking.  

He pulls me into him, fixing us together by holding me around my waist, heat travels up my neck at his closeness but the cool air of the night soon takes over. I didn’t pay attention as to where we were going because the blackness of the night morphed the surroundings but, I was grateful when we got into a carriage and the sight of Saint Bartholomew’s disappeared into the distance.  

#nate buzz #nate buzolic #nathaniel buzolic #kol #oc #kol x oc #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries #the originals #fanfic #wattpad

[alleycat97]

Checkmate

Pairing: F!Kayden x MC

The Royal Masquerade (NSFW)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Unfortunately...

...

"You've spent months changing the stars, Giovanna. Today, it's finally time to reveal the new night sky."   Kayden's words were floating in her mind as she kneeled down and accepted her crown, she was very lucky to have Kayden by her side.

"Today is a new day for Cordonia!" Giovanna spoke loudly to her anticipating crowd, "My regime will be for the people, I will bring justice to our kingdom and we will flourish once again!" The crowd erupted as Giovanna made her way to the ballroom.

She hadn't been queen for all but an hour and she was already tired of the ass kissing she was receiving. Thank goodness for Kayden's timing,

"Would you like to dance my queen?"

"My?" Giovanna cooed as she accepted Kayden's offer. "What am I to call you now?"

"Sorcerer? Killer? It's what everyone else is calling me."  Kayden shrugged.

Giovanna peered around the room watching the ugly looks Kayden was receiving. The bystanders looked away once they noticed Giovanna watching them. "Don't listen to them Kayden. You're better  than to falter to court gossip."

As the music shifts, Kayden dipped Giovanna, pulling her back into her chest. Giovanna faltering to the strong, powerful arms holding her tight but yet so gently. Kayden leaned in and whispered, “Join me tonight Giovanna, and I'll show you the value of things made hard, demanding, and fit for purpose."

Giovanna was unsure of the location of choice, the armory. But she couldn't fathom the beauty and history of the weapons before her.

After Kayden's lesson and compliments, Giovanna took a seat contemplating her future.

"As queen, you'll have to work on your ass kissing." Kayden spoke teasing her lover.

"I fear ass kissing is the least of my problems...If my enemies have their way, all the weapons in the world wont be enough to save me."

Kayden moved to stand before Giovanna, taking her chin with a grip that's gentle but firm, tipping her face to meet hers. "They wont have to be. No matter what happens, I will be there to protect you. Until my last breath."

"Does that mean you will be my Crown Shield?" Giovanna spoke, eyes sparkling.

Kayden bent down, face merely an inch from Giovanna's, "It means I will be yours..."

Giovanna's face grew with intense heat, heart pounding inside her chest. Kayden closed the remaining distance and captured Giovanna's lips, gently at first, then growing more and more intense. Giovanna latched onto Kayden and held on as she was hoisted from her seat and forcefully held against a wall.

"Sorry, I have wanted this for so long, it is nearly impssoble to hold myself back." Kayden panted.

"Then don't hold back." Giovanna challenged, earning a growl from Kayden who shoved herself harder against Giovanna.

Kayden reached around and grabbed and handful of hair and jerked Giovanna’s head back, leaning in to suck on her neck.

“Mmmmm! Kayden!” Giovanna moaned with pleasure.

“I’m going to tear you apart.” Kayden moaned between bites, making Giovanna writhe with pleasure.

“Undress me.” Kayden commanded. And Giovanna quickly obeyed, tearing the clothes from Kayden’s body before backing away to shed her dress.

She moved to take her crown off but playfully decided to leave the symbol of power in place to remind Kayden who’s the boss. A gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Kayden, who cocked an eye brow with a small smile.

“Have it your way my queen.” She challenged.

“It is a shame I had you pardoned so quickly, I was beginning to like the sight of you in chains...” Giovanna teased.

“Well your majesty, it just so happens that I have a set of chains right here.” Kayden said holding up the cold iron.

“Oh my...why don’t you place those on me?” Giovanna asked.

Kayden shackled one wrist before easing Giovanna to the floor, resting her back down, before securing the other wrist around the desk leg.

With Kayden now straddling Giovanna’s hips, her hands started roaming the soft delicate skin of her majesty’s body, leaving a trail of kisses all over. “What does my queen desire?”

“Mmmm Kayden more...” Giovanna wiggled and moaned underneath Kayden.

Kayden’s teeth grazed Giovanna’s upper thigh earning a moan. Her hot breath just mere inches from Giovanna’s spot. Kayden nuzzled over the sensitive area lightly, Giovanna lightly twitching with the sensation.

Giovanna felt Kayden’s strong hands take hold of her hips and then the woman thrust her tongue deep within, making her pull hard against the iron restraints.

Kayden stopped and peered up from her place between Giovanna’s thighs, “More?” She asked hungrily, licking her lips.

Giovanna cried out more, hips bucking against the tight restraint from Kayden. The woman’s tongue moved in and out in a pulsing rythm. Giovanna could feel it build deep within. Slowly surfacing and when she reached her limit, she exploded into a state of pure bliss, body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Then she went numb and collapsed back against the floor unable to move.

Kayden undid her restraints and curled her body next to Giovanna, “Is the queen pleased?”

“Bwuuuh?” Giovanna tried “Words...hard...brain...melted.”

Kayden laughed, “I’m glad you enjoyed.”

Giovanna, looking sheepish spoke up, “That was um...my first time. With anyone, so I’m glad it was with you.”

“You know it’s been a long time since I allowed anyone to get this close to me, I want to give every piece of myself to you.” Kayden replied pulling Giovanna even closer to her, rubbing her leg as they let the time pass in blissful relaxation.

The two would soon part, rejoining the party before its end. Kayden staying from attention and Giovanna the center of it. But the two would rekindle in Giovanna’s master chambers that evening.

Giovanna lay awake while Kayden gently snoozed beside her. She was thinking of her future and the power she held and what it meant for her and the love she shared for Kayden. Her thoughts were pulled when she heard her door ease open and then watched a figure crawl on top of her quietly.

“Who’s there!?” Giovanna shouted waking Kayden.

It was Renza, “Hello Giovanna.” She spoke grasping one hand around the girls throat and pressed a dagger with the other against Giovanna’s chest.

Before Kayden could reach for her sword, she felt a dagger press against her throat. “Dont. See here? I have a charm of my own.” The assassin spoke showing off his black triangular ornate. “It stops magic before it starts. Your tricks won’t save you this time.”

“Renza? One final scheme huh?” Giovanna spat out.

“Mhm final... Yes I do like the sound of that. It’s a shame Giovanna that our little dance back and forth has to come to an end, but if you want something done right, I guess you have to do it for yourself.”

“Renza, you are heavier than you look. Oof.” Giovanna mocked one last time.

“Why you little bitch.” Renza snarled. “You ruined everything. If you had just fell in line when I poisoned you, I would be queen and you would live to see tomorrow.”

Renza looks over at your crown, “I’ve wanted that crown for years, it was finally my time to take it but you came along. I deserve it.” Renza went to each for the crown, lust filling her eyes when Giovanna shoved her away, surprising the girl.

“You deserve nothing. You were willing to sacrifice anyone who got in your way for power. And how sad. Because for all that you have lost, and all the pain you caused, you didn’t win. Not even once.”

“Winning comes now, at the end of the game. Everything else was merely a step towards the inevitable conclusion. Don’t you see Giovanna? I have always been one step ahead of you.”

Renza pulled back her arm and forcefully shoved her dagger into the chest of Giovanna, earning a shriek from the girl. “Checkmate.”

“No!” Kayden yelled as she watched Giovanna clutch her chest and shakily fall to the floor.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll see her real soon.” Renza laughed out. “Can’t have any witnesses can we?” She teased. “Finish her.”

The assassin moved to slice Kayden’s throat but she remembered her promise to protect Giovanna until her last breath and she quickly jerked a dagger from under the cover, sticking it into the side of the assassin who collapsed to the floor in pain.

Kayden jolted from the bed, grabbing her sword, approaching a frightened Renza.

“Get up you idiot! She’s going to kill me!!” She screamed to the Assassin who regained his footing. But he was too late, Kayden slammed her sword through Renza, giving it a painful twist before pulling it out. She watched the life drain from the woman’s face and quickly turned to face the assassin.

He was no match wounded, magic or not. Kayden was a force. So he quickly averted the crown shield and limped his way to the window making his escape.

Kayden heard a weak moan and quickly rushed to Giovanna’s side. She pulled the girl onto her lap removing Giovanna’s bloody hand to assess the injury.

“Kayden?” Giovanna spoke softly.

“Yes love. I’m here.”

“I’m not gonna make it an I?”

Kayden had her doubts, the cut was deep and she had already lost a ton of blood. “Of course you are love. It was just a scratch.”

Giovanna laughed at Kayden’s comforting words before coughing violently.

“Kayden I’m cold. So cold.” She spoke shakily.

“I’m going to go get help.” Kayden rushed but was stopped when Giovanna placed her bloody hand to her cheek.

“Promise me something Kayden.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll find someone to love you unconditionally, and that you’ll open that bakery.”

Kayden was in full tears, “Please, I can’t go on without you Giovanna, I love you.”

Giovanna smiled weakly, “I...I lo...love you Kayden Vescovi.”

Giovanna began to still in Kayden’s arms, Kayden began to panic, “No, no, no, NO!”

She tried to shake the girl and keep her awake, not believing what was happening, when she had a thought. Her magic. It was a long shot, if she could stop things, maybe she could stop the one she loved from dying? It was a long shot but worth a try.

“I sure hope this works.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #mc x kayden #kayden vescovi #trm renza #trm kayden #trm #the royal masquerade

[fantastic-fantasy-fanfics]

DONE WAITING

Request: N/A

A/N: I just released a buttload of fluff, I think I need to balance it out with some ANGST!  Also, I need to stop watching First Avenger, it has taken over my life.

preserum!Steve x reader

Word count:

Summary: life isn’t fair.  Why did Steve think it would be as soon as you came into his life?

Warnings: death, grief, depression, guilt, funerals, references to Catholicism, car crash, description of injury, blood gore

(GIF not mine)

A dramatic crack of thunder and lightning illuminated the panes of the stained glass windows of the church, mildly interrupting the priest's sermon.  Steve flinched at the sudden noise, his senses more irritable with the bubbling sadness within him.  A single tear rolled down his face as he sniffled, trying not to cough- the cold and wet weather wasn’t good for his asthma.

The sound of the priest’s voice was drowned out by Steve’s racing thoughts and aching chest.  All he could focus on was not crying again. Over and over Steve repeated in his head, “it should have been me, it should have been me…”.  He rocked back as forth as the dam broke, tears flooding his cheeks, despite his best efforts.  He covered his face with his ice cold hands, ashamed of his constant weeping.  All he could see behind his eyelids was that damned car accident played on over and over.  Again and again the sights and sounds haunted his cursed imagination.  Why did a good person like you have to die such a cruel, vile death?! It had been less than a week ago, meaning the gaping wound where Steve’s heart used to be was still fresh.  You were on your way to a dinner reservation you had planned to celebrate yours and Steve’s engagement.  It was supposed to be a happy occasion… 

All three of you were strolling down the city sidewalk to the Pizzeria you had been dying to try.  Work had been so stressful for the three of you, so you had decided to treat yourself to a dinner outing.  Why not?  You had been saving up for over a year to do something nice for yourselves, and you all had plenty of reason to celebrate. 

“And that’s when the camel said, ‘get off my back!’” Steve chuckled, getting to the awful, yet hilarious end of his bad joke.  Buck gave him sarcastic laughter and playful eye rolls.  You, on the other hand, were laughing so hard your face was red and you couldn’t stop chortling.

Steve loved it when you laughed.  Especially when it wasn’t “lady-like”.  The most beautiful sound he could hear was you laughing so hard you were snorting and wheezing.  It broke his heart that he’d never hear that angelic sound again.

Bucky let out a deep sigh before looking both ways to cross the street with you.  Unfortunately, Steve was too busy reveling in the pride of making you choke on your own laughter, that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings.  Steve had walked halfway across the road when a drunk driver swerved around the corner, barreling down the street.

It was as if time slowed down.  You had seen the car speeding down the road, heading to hit Steve, so you jumped into action.  You pushed Bucky away from you to keep him from chasing you into the street too as you leapt onto the asphalt.  Your high-heels clicked against the black top, giving the scene an eerie echo of your last footsteps as Steve slowly turned around to see what the hell was happening.

“STEVEN!” you shrieked, slightly picking him up before throwing him to safety at the other end of the crosswalk.

Steve didn’t have even a second to process what was going on, he just knew he was flying through the air and you were a mere foot from the hood of that guy’s car.

Just as he was landing, still in slow motion, Steve saw you attempt to jump out of the way, but it was too late, the drunk driver had hit you spot on, plummeting you to the ground as his squealing tires ran you over, dragging your body against the pavement.

The sound of yours and Bucky’s screams pierced Steve’s ears as he watched the vehicle screech to a stop and run over the curb into a fire hydrant.  Once his brain had gathered the information, he landed hard on his back as he started to process the events that had just transpired.

He could barely believe his eyes.  Your body was limp and quickly turning pale and ashy, bruised and bleeding on the dirty ground.  “No… no… (Y/N)!!!” Steve cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing over, scraping his knees as he stumbled to your side, “CALL 9-1-1!”.  Bucky ran into the nearest business establishment to call an ambulance, his face white with terror.

Steve took you into his arms, afraid to touch and hurt you further.  “No… no… no no… (Y/N), why?” he whimpered, holding your cold corpse to his chest.  Your head was profusely bleeding, staining your new pink dress and his white shirt.  Your left arm and neck were severely bruised and your right arm was broken.  Ironically, as if the universe was trying to mock him, your face had a peaceful look on it, as if you were simply taking a nap.  The universe was sick.

The scene was so vivid in Steve’s head, it took another solid crack of booming thunder to shake him out of the flashback.  His tears and sobs grew louder and harder as Bucky stood up to carry the casket out of the church.

“She’s where she doesn’t have to suffer,” Bucky whispered, squeezing Steve’s frail shoulder in a quick attempt to comfort him, “she’s okay now,”.

Steve just watched as Bucky’s expression faded back into a somber pout.  Steve felt it was all his fault you died and he couldn’t even give you the respect of carrying you to your final resting place.  He was so useless…

The funeral procession walked outside, everyone popping open their umbrellas or donning their raincoats as another crack of thunder roared.  Steve was almost too shaky to carry his own umbrella as he tried to have a stiff upper lip, but the tears kept falling down his pale cheeks.

The final words spoken by the Priest and the goodbye given by her parents were nice, or, so Steve was told.  He was too distracted to listen as he stared blankly at the deep, lonely hole (Y/N) was about to be shoved in.  How he wished there was a more elegant way for you to be buried, you didn’t deserve a literal hole in the ground.

After the funeral was over, everyone filtered away, getting into their mud-splashed cars and driving home to eat and go to bed, most likely to feel better in the morning.  But not Steve.  He didn’t want to leave you yet.  He couldn’t.

“C’mon pal, you’ll catch something if you stay out here much longer,” Bucky called, sticking his numb hands into his coat pockets.

“It’s my fault…” he sobbed, dropping his umbrella, rain immediately soaking his hair and shirt.

Bucky jogged over to him, holding his own umbrella over the both of them.  “Steve, don’t say things like that, it was a freak accident!” he said, turning the smaller man to face him.

“If I had just paid attention… If I had just looked where I was going… she’d still be here,” he choked, his lungs suffering as his sobs steifled his already questionable breathing.

Buck’s face softened, giving his best friend a hug.  “I’ll miss her too, but this isn’t your fault…” he repeated, “she just loved you enough she’d sacrifice herself for you… the same thing you’d do for her,”.

Steve nodded, looking back at the open grave, still not ready to face the reality that you were gone.  He never thought he’d have to face this… For one, he never thought someone would love him like you did.  But, with you added to his life, he had even more to lose… 

“Thanks Buck… I appreciate you staying with me,” he sniffed, attempting to wipe his face dry.

Bucky smiled softly, glad Steve wasn’t completely lost.  He wrapped his arm around his shoulder, leading him to the truck, “We’ll visit her again soon, let’s just get you dried off and fed- you know she would have killed you if she saw you like this,”.

Steve visited everyday, not that he had much else to do.  His paintings weren’t selling anymore.  Not that he was surprised, his art was all sad and dark, no one wanted to buy that.  So, instead of creating shitty art, he decided to sit with you for a few hours everyday.  Bucky said he shouldn’t do that, “you won’t heal unless you distance yourself,” he’d say.  But what was he going to do?  Stop Steve from going?  He was always at work.

Steve leaned against the small headstone, curling up to stay warm.  November had just started and the wind was picking up, blowing around dark clouds and dead leaves.  He wrapped his thin coat around his small body as the gusts of air violently blew his hair and tie around, the sting of the cold doing nothing to stop his face from heating up as he started to cry again.

“I miss you..” he whimpered, sniffling, “I visited mom and dad earlier, I wish you could have met them… Maybe you’re with them now… I hope you are, they’d really love you,”.  The cold stone grave said nothing back, the silence deafening.  “I could really use some encouragement right now.  Everyone says to express myself and get it out of my system, but whatever I create sucks!” he ranted, pulling a little photo of you out of his pocket, hoping that if he saw your face, he’d feel more like you were here.

“I’m trying my best to feel better, but it’s so hard when I’ve already lost almost everything… Bucky’s there, but he doesn’t understand how I feel, he doesn’t get it,” he cried, his eyes getting puffy as tears continued to well up.  He leaned his forehead against the stone to shield his face from the gray wind, still looking at the photo.

You were smiling at the camera, your cheek pressed against his own as Bucky presented your homemade birthday cake to you.  Steve remembered that day so vividly.  He planned a big surprise party for you at the community center.  Somehow, both he and Buck were able to keep their lips sealed and didn’t spoil the surprise the entire two weeks he was planning it.  It was such a happy memory.

“I don’t know how I can move on…” he sobbed, clutching the picture to his chest as he let out a few vulnerable sobs, “I fucking miss you, (Y/N),”.  He started sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe, his lungs begging for air in the form of desperate gasps.  He fumbled through his pockets to look for his special cigarettes.  He stuck it between his lips, igniting a match to light the cigarette in a hurry.

He let out a hard coughing sob before taking a deep inhale of the medicinal smoke.  “How can I move on from someone like you?” he hiccuped, shoving the picture back into his pocket, “I had waited for some like you for so long… just for you to be ripped away from me…”.  He scoffed, tapping the ash off the butt of the cigarette before starting to walk home.  “The universe is sick…” he grumbled, leaving his wedding band at your headstone.

______________

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[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 11

Seats were limited by the time I got to the small dressing area turned conference room, so I opted to stand against the back wall instead of stepping into a crowded aisle. Plus, a standing Liv would catch his attention sooner than a sitting one. Within 5 minutes of waiting, Mendez sashayed through a side entrance, championship belt undoubtably in tow, clashing with his red, yes, RED suit of choice. Jolly ol’ Saint Nick himself would’ve turned up a nose in disgust. He took a seat, propping his prized possession in display on the white table. Prayers of pleading rolling through my head that this blatant narcissist wouldn’t drain all the life out of the room with endless ramblings for the upcoming hour. Right now, it wasn’t this particular fighter that I needed answers from. Thankful for a recording device, I muted most of the repetitive questioning until I was ready to join in. 

“Yeah, Miss Elliott in the back there,” he selected.

“Congratulations on the victory, Danny. I was wondering, if Colton were to call you out for the title again, would you accept?”

He chuckled, “ I mean, yeah. I beat the guy once, so I wouldn’t have a problem doing it again. All jokes aside though, honestly, the guy is scrappy in the cage. I’ll give him that.” In Danny Mendez translation, that was a compliment.

His session ended with mumbling something about having a bottle on ice and blah, blah, blah, leaving us now to wait for the losing man of the hour. Upon 15 very exasperated minutes, two reporters withdrew due to justified impatience of Colton’s delay. Amongst the growing chatters, the black hands of a clock at the rear of the room ticked noisily, it’s repetitive soundtrack creating a deafening echo amid the whispering gallery. After what I assumed was at least 25 minutes passing, an unidentified blonde wearing some sort of badge on her hip, resolutely marched her way front and center.

“Alright guys, that’s gonna be it for tonight. Sorry to disappoint.”

I teetered between irritation, and concern. Was this one of his rebellious PR stunts? Or was he currently being rushed to the nearest emergency room for some kind of growing side effects resulting from an unanticipated injury? I would’ve liked to think Mac, Beth, or perhaps some member of his team would’ve had the courtesy to think of me if that was the case. However, after the cold shoulder from Colton earlier, maybe I was no longer in the inner circle. No longer one of the “popular kids.” Surely, I hadn’t already been tossed aside to join the other outcasted groupies already?

We filed out of the room scattering down different hallways, and I withdrew my phone from my purse. Seeing no missed calls, I decided to lean on relief rather than panic. When I pushed the panel opening the parking garage door, I slid a single key between my middle and index finger. A defense tactic that Colton stressed as dire necessity when I was alone out in the city, at night especially. In his words, I was evidently “green” to the harsh reality that there were indeed violent people here, who’d stab you for the 14 bucks you had in your wallet, and the busted Coach knockoff hanging over your shoulder. Back in Indiana, we didn’t even lock our cars most nights, so Colt’s enthusiastic warnings about his own close call with a mugger, did not fall on deaf ears. If any brave, or entirely ignorant individual had the gall to attempt a robbery on a barrel chested man such as my guy, they’d see me as a sure score.

I double tapped the unlock button opening the driver door, and intently scanned the surroundings when my headlights ignited. I sat aimlessly staring at the blank screen of my phone, the thunderous internal battle now underway.

Call the clueless fool, Liv. Give him the scolding he deserves.

The devil on the right: NO chance. Leave the bastard wondering where you’ve gone. If you’ve made it home safely.

Back to the left. CALL HIM. What if something bad really is going on. You’ll never forgive yourself if he’s hurt.

That was all the convincing I needed. I truly couldn’t live myself had he been unconscious in a hospital bed, suffering from some life-threatening contusion with me not at his side due to my hurt feelings. Vindicated, even still.

“It’s Colton. You know the drill. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Um, hey Colt. It’s Liv. Which you obviously know. Anyways, just checking in with you before I head home for the night. Call me back. Wanted to make sure you’re okay. Uh…yeah, that’s all. So, call me back. I love you.”

I gave myself 5 minutes in the warming car for a call back before my mind spoke up. If he is indeed hurt somewhere, a call to his phone would not be sufficient to reaching the root of the problem. So, one measly text to Beth, then I really would engage the silent treatment.  

L: Sorry to bother you so late, Beth. Just checking in on Colt. I can’t seem to get in touch with him. Wanted to make sure he was alright.

The indicating bubbles of reply danced quite timely after I had hit the send button. I was impressed by the youngest generation of the baby boomer era and her swift technological skill.

B: No bother, sweetheart. He left the arena not long after you hurried off to the conference. Said he just wanted to call it a night.

So, the bastard wasn’t on his death bed in the back of some ambulance after all. Or dying in the hands of a brain surgeon attempting to locate the source of some imagined internal bleeding. Leaving him completely and utterly unexcused for the selfish, and frankly juvenile behavior. Sure, I get the loss was hanging heavy and a night alone in his own bed was therapeutic to nurse his defeat, and freshly wounded body back to health. I couldn’t be mad at him for seeking out a little isolation, I guess. That was one of the personality flaws of Colton, it seemed. Something doesn’t play out in your favor? Run. Someone questions your judgement? Shout, then run. The fact that zero communication had been made with me, the innocent spectator, was the true “no-no” in my book. Especially after the hypocrite scolded me one afternoon for leaving my phone at home on the coffee table one day on my brisk exit to work. He had driven down to the Pilot office, had the secretary summon me to the front entrance so he could reprimand me in the corner about he had worried all morning when he didn’t hear from me, and wasn’t sure if I was alive or dead. Yet, here we were. Tables indeed turned, and not even so much as a single text message just assuring me he was home safe, sound, and not experiencing signs of a brutal concussion or what not. I made up my stubborn mind that when, or if for that matter, that he wanted to talk he could find me. I wasn’t about to drag myself any further into oncoming traffic for a man who pulled stunts like this one. Not without an apology at least.

 Tuesday morning. Two days since the fight. Two FULL days. Crickets. 48 hours. For all I knew, Colton Ritter had hopped a plane to Mexico and was sunning on the beach with a beautiful, topless native as we speak. Keeping the promise to myself, and my self-respect, I held my ground & hadn’t reached out to him since leaving a voicemail late after the fight. The plus side? I had an over abundance of time to finalize my article for Ryan, who had texted me with instruction to head straight for his office as soon as I made it to work. It was edited, proofread, and emailed to him by midmorning on Monday, so I was sure he’d had his chance to look over my work. I mindfully sported my best suit on this particular day, leaning if he thought the article was shit and I was in for a lecture, at least I’d look fabulous while taking my reprimanding.

I marched directly to my boss’ office at 8:00 a.m. sharp, shoulders held high ready to take whatever bad, or good that was coming my way. Two knuckle knocks to his wooden, “editor-in-chief” plated door before he granted my entrance.

“Liv, hey! Goodmorning. Come in, have a seat, have a seat.”

I flashed a reserved smile, lowering to be seated directly across the L-shaped desk from him. “You wanted to see me?”

Thankfully, he grinned brightly, “I did, yeah. Feeling a bit of relief with this one off your shoulders?”

“Actually, I enjoyed it a lot. I mean, aside from Mendez being quite the… snide character, it was honestly kind of fun for me. MMA isn’t really a sport I’ve had much exposure to, but I’ve grown pretty fond of it now.” I figured that response was better than saying “I fell in love with Colton Ritter during this process and we’ve been dating under the table for the last several months.”

Ryan leaned forward on his desk, intertwining his hands together outstretched. “That’s actually one of the things I wanted to discuss with you. This piece was by far the best work I’ve seen from you. Not to discredit any of your past articles, of course! But, it was clearly displayed that you were genuinely enjoying yourself with this topic,” he explained. “Which is why I’ve decided to move forward with publishing you front page.”

A toothy smile immediately turned my lips upward, sweating palms replaced with a leaping heart.

“I know we spoke about only going that route if Ritter took the win since the piece was centered around him. But, your writing was too unbelievably excellent to not reward the dutiful job you did.”

I tried to save face, remain composed but I cupped my hands over my cheery face and released a tiny squeal, however not forgetting to thank my boss for the career altering opportunity.

“Thank you so, so SO much, boss. Truly, I’m so grateful!”

“You earned it, Liv. But don’t thank me just yet. There’s something else I’d like to suggest.” Was he pulling the “good news first to stifle to bad news” bit with me?

“I’ve discussed it with a few of the higher ups, and I’d like to designate you as our resident journalist for all things in the world of fighting. I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think you may have found your niche with this one. Of course, there’d be a slight increase in pay with the position.”

The heaviness of the weekends dramatic unfolding’s took a momentary backseat to the unexpected pleasantries of this spring-esque Tuesday morning. Still, this very second, the only thing I wanted to do was run to Colt with the good news…

“If you think that’s where I belong, then I’d love to give it a shot. It’s definitely a sport I’d like to continue getting familiar with.”

He nodded with a single clap of his hands, “That’s what I like to hear! We’re lucky to have you here, Elliott. I think this a good move. So, we’ll talk later on in the week to settle everything 100%. And I’ll see you on the front-page Thursday morning, my friend.”

We shook hands, and I nearly skipped the distance spanning from his office to my quaint cubicle. I wondered if the birds I heard singing a song of rejoice around my head were visible to the rest of the office. I lifted the screen of my silver laptop, primed and ready to dive into the world of my latest endeavors. I searched the internet scanning for upcoming matches in the city, some of Pittsburgh’s own who competed in the arena of cage fighting, then I heard a ding signaling a message on my unsilenced phone.

C: Meet at Mac’s soon?

The utter nerve of this guy. Sure, I haven’t heard as much as a ‘hey’ from you in two days, but I’ll be sure to leave an hour into a work day per your request. God help the male population if they’re all this clueless.

L: He speaks.

He knew me well enough to know I’d throw a tad bit of shade at him.

C: Meet me, please?

L: Its not even 10 a.m., Colton. I’m working.

C: After? We need to talk.

Oh, ya’ don’t say, genius. I’d say we were about two days overdue for a talk, sweet, silly boy.

L: 4:30. I have some news of my own too!

C: Great.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

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[unofferable-fic]

Do You Fear the Devil? (Loki x Reader): 3 - Annie Chapman

Summary: You are one of the many working women roaming the streets of Whitechapel when a madman begins to murder your comrades one by one. The attacks are so gruesome, that the detectives can only describe his work as that of “a devil than of a man”. Loki Laufeyson is a Metropolitan police detective and surgeon who is assisting on the case. As more bodies pile up and you and your friends fear for your lives, the police remain well and truly stumped. When Detective Laufeyson turns to you for help to find the murderer, you must face your fears to save yourself… But who can you really trust when you are the prey being stalked at night by someone who calls himself Jack the Ripper?

Gif originally found here

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Victorian London AU

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries/violence, gore, language, angst.

Word Count: 5,259

Previous Chapter    Next Chapter

Playlist: “Let Me In, Heathcliff” — Ruth Barrett, “Where Did You Sleep Last Night” — Nirvana, “Sir Galahad” — Jason Graves, “The Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: The Swan” — Camille Saint-Saëns

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A/N: Also available on AO3. YES HELLO I AM ALIVE. I took a much needed break over Christmas and then suffered with a bit of writers block, but I am back and happy to bring another chapter to anyone still reading along. As always, any feedback at all would be much appreciated! Hearing what you guys have to say means a lot. Thanks for anyone out there in the fanfiction abyss still reading my trash <3 (Also apologies if I forgot to tag anyone who asked - I’m all over the place since my break, but feel free to hit me up if you wanna be tagged).

8th September 1888, 5.00 am.

You were out with Natasha again that night.

Given your new ‘official’ duties as police accomplices, you found yourself wandering the darkened streets every second day or so. You and Natasha didn’t mind — at least it added some entertainment to your usually boring day. It was new and exciting and even though it surrounded a very morbid subject matter, you knew your presence was helping the police. Sometimes Wanda came along for the trip, and on this occasion she was more than happy to accompany you.

“I’m not sure if this is entirely legal with regards our arrangement,” Natasha mused as the three of you left the White Swan earlier that evening. “But I was never one for following police orders anyway.”

You had seen nothing of Loki in the past week, but Steve had become a regular at the brothel — only to call you both out for some assistance of course. It somewhat reminded you of being a kid again and your friend calling to your door to ask if you would come out and play. Except this time it was the sergeant asking that you help track down a murderer… No matter how hard Natasha tried, it seemed that he simply wouldn’t take the bait and become a customer. Seeing who could make him blush more became a nice ongoing joke though… Sometimes two other PCs were in Steve’s company. You recognised them as the two constables from Bucks Row. You soon found out that they were called James Barnes and Samuel Wilson. The former was an excessive flirt, and kept requesting that you call him ‘Bucky’ for some reason. His comrade was less of a flirt but was still kind at least. He did however like to poke fun at you as well as his comrades. It seemed that Barnes and Wilson were constantly at each others throats. Their dynamic became easy to recognise — both Barnes and Wilson fought for Steve’s attention which resulted in verbal spats that drove Steve up the wall and made you laugh until you were crying.

Steve and James had called for you earlier that evening, and you used the chance to subtly enquire after Loki and his whereabouts.

“He’s the Divisional Police Surgeon,” the sergeant explained. “While we regularly patrol the streets, he is called in on specific occasions and special circumstances. He will be informed on any leads or developments that we find.”

“That’s a shame,” Natasha mused, giving your shoulder a nudge. “He was the funny one.”

While Steve rolled his eyes at this statement, James seemed amused. “Laufeyson is a funny guy.”

“And he is also Y/N’s type,” Wanda teased you with a playful grin. “Cheeky, dark, and handsome.”

James chuckled and threw his arm around your shoulders. “Not as handsome as me though, right, doll?”

You looked him up and down with the most unamused expression you could muster. “Are you making a proposition, Constable? Soliciting is illegal, you know.”

“Well looking certainly isn’t illegal, now is it?”

“We’re on the job, Buck,” Steve insisted gently, not impressed. “We should leave the ladies to it.”

Now you were strolling down Whitechapel Road early in the morning. Only drunkards and your fellow workers were about as per usual. Obviously your group was getting its usual mixed looks of distain and curiosity. Unfortunately for those who inquired, you had to turn them down. Under Steve’s strict instructions, you were to dismiss half of your clientele in order to spend more time with your eyes peeled for any weirdos or suspicious looking men. He had agreed to fund the lost wages so you weren’t exactly complaining about the arrangement. If you did happen to stumble across someone that took your interest for all the wrong reasons, Steve asked you to note as much about him as you could before politely declining him. As long as they had a description to go off, they were happy. He also completely discouraged any sort of ‘vigilantism’, although you weren’t against the idea. Wanda and Nat also loved the sound of such a thing.

“So if we find the man who killed Mary Ann,” Wanda began, linking her arm with yours. “Does that mean we get to kick his face in?”

“Most definitely yes,” you replied. “And then we can hand him over to Stevie with a lovely bloody face.”

“Oh the sergeant would just love that,” Natasha chuckled, grinning at the thoughts of revenge. “Although they might try to slap us with an assault charge.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “They wouldn’t dare! Not when we handed them a murderer on a plate.”

Suddenly, Wanda veered off towards a portico, dragging out with her as she greeted another woman. “Annie, darling, are you alright?”

Leaning against one of the pillars within the portico stood a woman who looked worse for wear. Annie, as Wanda called her, seemed older than the three of you, and was short and stout in appearance. Blue eyes were hidden behind weary and hooded lids. On the right side of her face was a nasty bruise and there was no doubt in your mind that she was ill. She was dressed in mostly muted brown and black tones, which made a red and white neckerchief tied around her neck stand out all the more.

“Wanda Maximoff?” Annie wheezed, smiling faintly as she looked at the younger worker. “My, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It’s only been a few weeks, don’t be so overdramatic.” Wanda smiled before gesturing to you and Natasha. “These are my friends, Y/N and Natasha. They work in the White Swan with me. Ladies, this is Annie. We used to share lodgings on Dorset Street before I came to the brothel.”

The pair of you greeted Annie, who seemed friendly despite the fact she was worse for wear. “Nice to meet you ladies, although I wish we could meet when I was in a better state.”

“What happened to you?” you asked her with genuine concern.

“Oh, this thing?” She pointed to the large bruise on her face. “If you think that’s bad, you should see the one on my chest. Just had a small disagreement with someone in the Britannia pub.”

Natasha spoke without hesitation.  “Give us their name and we shall sort them out.”

“Do not worry yourself over it, ladies.” With a wheeze, Annie pushed herself upright and gritted her teeth in pain. “I refuse to spend another minute thinking on her. She is not worth it.”

“You should not be out here if you are unwell, Annie,” Wanda insisted, helping to keep her steady with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You should go to the casual ward and get yourself looked at.”

“You are very pale,” you noted. “Wanda is right. You should be resting instead of wandering around out here.”

“Ah, I already went to the ward and picked up some medicine. It doesn’t feel like it has done much for me though… But I need money for my lodgings, so I’m trying to earn a few coins out here while I still can. I told the keeper to hold a bed for me and that I would be back shortly. It’s no use giving way, I must pull myself together and get some money or I shall have no lodgings.”

“How much do you need?” Wanda asked, reaching for her purse.

When Annie saw you and Natasha also going for your purses, she waved a hand at you dismissively. “I will not have any of you spending your hard earned money on an old bat like me.”

“We have to look out for each other,” Natasha hushed her. “No one else is going to do it.”

You nodded in agreement. “Especially with all the attacks of late.”

Between the you, Natasha, and Wanda, you happily handed the downtrodden woman enough money to secure her lodgings for the evening. She took it, but only when the latter gave her a very adamant look. With a sigh, she allowed the assistance, but looked almost ashamed for taking it.

“You lot are too good. You deserve better than being out here and working on these awful streets.”

“Don’t we all,” Wanda chuckled and took hold of her friend’s hand. “Take care, Annie. And don’t spend it all on rum, alright?”

The women promised she wouldn’t before she said her goodbyes and took her leave. You watched her wobble away, hoping that she would get better soon. You had originally offered to walk her back to her lodgings, but she refused and insisted that she would take no more of your time and get there herself. You didn’t like or agree with the idea of course, but there was simply no arguing with her.

Wanda was perturbed with the encounter but said little more about it, other than explaining how she had first met Annie some time ago. She briefly mentioned that she was a friendly, steady-going woman, but she had a fondness for rum and sometimes struggled with avoiding it.

After the encounter, you continued on your way for some time. Between chatting up men who showed interest and keeping a watchful eye on your friends, you did your best to spot any shady-looking characters, but found none. You even bumped into Scott while on your travels and paused to chat with him. He was sitting with a group of friends in the Ten Bells Pub and seemed happy to see you again. You were somewhat thankful that he didn’t ask after services from any of you — saying no to him felt similar to kicking a defenceless puppy.

At 5.30, the three of you regrouped with PC Barnes on the corner of Commercial Street and Whitechapel Road. Each night you had to meet with one of the PCs and inform them of any findings or interesting encounters. It also ensured them that nothing had happened to you while out and about. You weren’t waiting there long before he appeared.

“Evening, ladies,” PC Barnes greeted you upon his arrival. “Are you aware that soliciting is illegal? I am going to need you lot to move it.”

“Sod off, Barnes,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I am too tired to be dealing with you right now.”

He feigned offence and placed a hand on his chest as though his heart ached with your rash words. “What is it going to take for you to call me Bucky?”

“What the hell is a Bucky?” Wanda asked, causing you all to laugh.

“And who the hell are you?” he asked her with an award-winning smile. “You shouldn’t be out with them.”

“I do not take orders from mutton shunters, so I go wherever I please, Constable.”

Despite the banter, PC Barnes couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “I think I have my work cut out for me with you lot. But I do need you to come with me to the station. Steve wants a full report of your evening.”

“Can we not do the in the morning?” you asked, already feeling exhaustion setting in.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately not, doll. The Sergeant wants you all to make reports while the details are fresh in your heads. His orders — not mine!”

“He is lucky he is a good looking man who pays well,” Natasha grumbled as PC Barnes led you all towards the police station. “Otherwise I would end this charade right now.”

Barnes chuckled as he walked. “I shall let Stevie know that you think he is handsome.”

“Oh trust me, he is already well aware, Constable.”

Although you had very little issue with walking along the streets at night — you were well used to it and had certainly been through harder times — the company of a policeman wasn’t entirely disconcerting. If anything, it added an extra layer of protection to the group. You noticed that no one said a word to you as he lead you down to the nearby station. Instead, he chatted idly with you all, unfazed by the looks he was receiving due to his company. At one point, he told one particularly bothered man, who insisted on glaring at the with all his might, to ‘sod off’. You were beginning to think that you might like PC Barnes, even if he did do your head in.

Upon arrival at Commercial Street Police Station, you and your friends were eagerly swept into the back offices, passing by the policemen at the front desk who questioned PC Barnes about his company.

“They are with me, Happy,” he stated simply as he ushered you away from their curious eyes. “Is Sgt Rogers about?”

The policeman called Happy gestured behind him. “He’s in the back with Inspector Stark and Chief Inspector Strange.”

“Strange is back?”

“Indeed. He got back from his holidays today and came here as soon as he could.”

“What an unusual last name,” Wanda mused. “Do either of you know the inspectors?”

Natasha shook her head, as did you. “I can’t say that I have ever met them before.”

Though miffed by the news of the Chief Inspector’s arrival, PC Barnes tried to stay positive for your sakes. “Well you are about to now, ladies. Follow me.”

The further into the station you went, the easier it was to hear the arguing going on in one of the back rooms. Soon you arrived at an occupied office which belonged to an Inspector Anthony Edward Stark according to the label on the open door. You had never met the man before, but you had heard a few of your fellow workers say that he was quite the character — confident, flirtatious, charming, sarcastic. These were all qualities you didn’t exactly expect to find in an inspector, but you assumed he must be good at his leadership role if he was the head of the division.

PC Barnes stood in the open doorway, waiting for whatever conversation was happening to die down before announcing his arrival. Overwhelmed with curiosity, you peaked over his broad shoulders and saw two men locked in an intense conversation in front of a desk while Sgt Rogers stood off to the side with his arms folded across his chest.

“I do not care what Fury told you,” one man argued, looking quite perturbed with his colleague. “This is my case and I am in charge. Believe me when I say that we don’t need any assistance from you, Strange.”

The man you assumed to be Chief Inspector Strange appeared indifferent. He was clearly a proud man in the way he held himself and insisted on standing tall as he spoke. He listened intently, not at all bothered by the other man’s visible distaste in his presence. You didn’t recognise him at all, despite his unconventional facial hair and silver tinted locks. “How unfortunate when you must take direct orders from the Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, and it is he who has given me the task of collating all the facts on the case. I would much rather be on my holiday than cleaning up your mess, Stark, but evidently you need me.”

Inspector Stark looked appalled by the choice of words. “Evidently?”

“Well you have two dead dollymops and a murderer who is fond of disembowelment running about. Would you consider the situation under control?”

Despite the situation being laid out before him, Inspector Stark pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “We are understaffed. I am doing what I can with the men I have. Do you think I like the thought of women getting disembowelled on my time?”

“I think you are unwilling to admit you need my help. How do you fit that head of yours into your helmet, I wonder?”

“Look, Sherlock—!”

“That is enough,” Steve cut in, stepping between the men before anything else kicked off. “We are on the same team here. There is no need for arguments!”

“It is very hard to control myself when his face is so punchable,” Inspector Stark grumbled. “He is smugness personified! With terrible facial hair!”

“We have company, Tony,” Steve replied, nodding to the door where James, Natasha, Wanda, and you stood waiting awkwardly.

Inspector Stark turned to the door with a tired expression, which quickly turned to confusion when he noticed you and your friends. “Barnes, I have no idea why you are standing in my office with expensive company, but I do know that you are one lady short of a party.”

“They are here on a different kind of business, Inspector,” Bucky elaborated and stepped inside. He motioned for you and your friends to enter, so you obeyed without argument. “Business of the investigative kind.”

Natasha stepped around him, obviously eager to speak for herself. “What Bocky means to say is—”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, yes, of course. What he means is that we are your new Assistant Detectives, Inspector.”

You noticed the deep furrow in Chief Inspector Strange’s brow as he gave Inspector Stark a very serious side-eye stare.

Stark’s brown eyes wandered over you curiously before he looked at your comrades in a similar manner. “I thought you said you recruited two ladies, Rogers?”

“I did,” Steve reassured him and pointed at Wanda. “You are not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, I recruited myself,” Wanda shrugged, unthreatened by neither their rank or the formal setting. “Do not worry yourselves about it.”

“Steve tends to worry a lot.” Inspector Stark offered you his hand. “Inspector Anthony Edward Stark, but feel free to call me Tony.”

You shook his hand, surprised to find that you sensed nothing bad or unsettling about this man. He seemed quite genuine somehow. “Y/N, nice to meet you, Sir.”

He grimaced at the title. “I insist that you call me Tony. ‘Sir’ makes me feel like an old man who needs to retire.”

You smiled slightly at his tone. “Tony it is then.”

He was certainly everything you would never expect in an Inspector, and you already liked him better for it.

As he introduced himself to Natasha and Wanda and got their names in return, Chief Inspector Strange shook his head and cut across the conversation. “Why are these women claiming to be Assistant Detectives?”

“Because Sarge and Edgar Allen Poe thought we could use the extra woman power, and I agreed. I did not really have much time to argue against it, considering they made the decision before asking for my permission.”

“Edgar Allen Poe?” you muttered, looking at Bucky.

“Loki,” he explained. “Stark is fond of nicknames.”

“This is hardly orthodox,” the Chief Inspector continued, squinting his eyes in frustration. “And it is hardly Dr Laufeyson’s decision to make.”

Natasha let out a sigh. “Sorry, who are you? I did not catch your name when introductions were being made.”

Momentarily insulted by her brash tone, the older man turned to face them. “I am Chief Inspector Stephen Strange and I am in charge of this investigation by the order of Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Sir Nicholas Fury.”

You looked back at him in amusement, unimpressed by the excessive titles. It meant little to you and it wasn’t about to mean anything to you now. “Oh, fancy.”

“Uh, I think you mean co-charge,” Tony pointed out. “We have co-ownership of this investigation. Somewhat like a married couple.”

“Not by Fury’s orders—”

“Yes, well, this is my division and these men have followed my orders for some time. Look, Strange, I will admit it — even if it might cause my ego to burst at the seams — that we need more numbers to help with this investigation. It is why we have these women in our company. I will take your help if I must, but we need to work together if we are to achieve anything.”

“He’s right, Chief Inspector,” Steve added. “The only way to tackle this is as a team. If we work as such, we can get it done before anymore lives are lost. Arguing is wasting what precious time we have.”

“I love when Steve agrees with me,” Tony said to you, looking somewhat bewildered. “He never usually does and he is exceedingly righteous, so I must be in the right thus time…”

“Fine then,” Strange huffed and held up his hands in defeat. “Have it your way, Stark, but know that I do not like the fact that they will be joining this investigation. I will be having words with Dr Laufeyson about this.”

“We are involved whether you like it or not, Chief Inspector,” Natasha said coldly. “So your approval means very little to us.”

“A bit of respect would not go amiss though,” you added. “As Steve said, we are all on the same team.”

“And what a team we shall make,” Stark said with his arms outstretched. “As long as we catch this bastard soon, I will be happy.” Without much thought, the inspector reached into his vest pocket, taking out a halfpenny, and then dropping it into a jar on his desk that was already half filled with coins. Steve looked somewhat pleased with the gesture.

Strange shook his head. “I shall still be having words with Laufeyson.”

“You mean Edgar Allen Poe?” you asked before looking to Tony for an explanation.

He shrugged in reply. “He’s mopey and reads a lot, alright?”

Before anyone else could get a word in, Happy — the policeman who had been manning the front desk — came bursting in the door.

“Inspector,” he spluttered, out of breath and wide eyed. “A man just came in and claims there has been another murder!”

Whatever hopeful tone that had previously filled the room was extinguished with this unfortunate news. Your stomach tumbled and you looked to your two friends to see their equally horrified expressions.

“Where?” Stark demanded, already pulling on his coat.

“29 Hanbury Street!”

Instantly the room sprung into action.

The men were all pulling on coats and sprinting out the door in no time. Stark was busy ordering them around while Strange got a head start and was already following Happy out the office door. You and your comrades looked on in stunned silence as everyone got to work.

Before he left, Steve urged the three of you to follow him. “Look alive, ladies. We are needed at the scene.”

“Time to go,” you muttered and followed them out into the cold London streets. Just before exiting the building, you caught a quick glance at the man who sounded the alarm — he stood next to Happy, struggling to speak with an ashen face and tired eyes. God only knows what kind of scene he had stumbled upon that early in the morning.

Outside, Tony was quickly owning his role as Inspector. “Rogers, I want you to head to Spitalfields Market now. Wilson is stuck on fixed point duty there. Pick him up and head over to 29 Hanbury Street together. Make sure you check the side streets and alleys in case the suspect is nearby — he might still be close. The rest of you, come with Strange and I directly to the scene. Ladies, we might need you to identify the victim so be prepared.”

You momentarily thanked your past self for choosing to wear flats that evening, as you hadn’t exactly expected to be sprinting through the streets towards what would probably be a crowded murder scene. While the cool air burned your throat as you took swift gulps, your legs ached in protest as your body tried to overcome its exhaustion. Now, with it being shortly after 6.00 am, the sun rose in the distance, colouring the overcast sky in blues and pinks as London came to life again. It was quite a sight, one that would surely contrast with the horrors ahead.

At Hanbury Street, a curious crowd of onlookers had already gathered. Steve and Samuel were nowhere in sight, so Strange and Stark quickly got to forcing their way through the spectators. Bucky followed them next, then you, Natasha, and Wanda coming up the rear. With the policemen already making a path or you, it meant wading your way through the spectators was much more manageable. At least you could refrain from slapping people out of your way.

As you breached the crowd and finally got a good luck at the scene, your eyes rest on the sight before you. A body lay in the garden of number 29, partially against the wooden fencing. Strange and Stark stood over her while Bucky forced the rambunctious crowd back as best as he could with no back up. While you halted nervously in your tracks at the sight of a corpse, Wanda flew over to join the inspectors.

She took one look at the body before she covered her mouth with her hands and let out a desperate gasp. Upon seeing your friend in distress, you and Natasha were quickly at her side.

“It is Annie!” she proclaimed as you joined her. “Y/N, it is Annie! She’s dead!”

You met her shocked eyes with your own before you looked down at the victim. Sure enough, you recognised the red and white neckerchief, now matted with thick, fresh bloodstains. Annie Chapman’s throat had been savagely slit.

“You know her?” Strange asked, eyes darting between you.

“Wanda does,” Natasha explained solemnly, eyes fixed on the dead woman. “Her name is Annie Chapman.”

“We lived in the same lodging house on Dorset Street before I became a resident at the White Swan,” Wanda said, unable to look at her fallen friend any longer. You wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder as Stark asked her for the address of the lodging house. “Crossingham's Lodging House at 35 Dorset Street.”

“You have our condolences, ladies,” Strange said with the first ounce of genuine compassion you had seen from him all morning. “But your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

At that moment, Steve and Samuel came tumbling through the crowd. Seeing that more of his men had arrived, Stark jumped into action once more. “Rogers, I need you to help contain the crowd here — there are way too many people around at the moment. Wilson, I need you to run back to the station to get reinforcements — if this crowd keeps building, we shan’t be able to contain it. Barnes, take Y/N and go fetch Dr Laufeyson. I need him here now.”

“Why me?” you asked, unwilling to leave a visibly distressed Wanda behind.

As Steve and Samuel got to work, Tony turned to you with a sympathetic expression. “It is important that at least one of you ladies familiarises yourself with where Loki resides. You might need to fetch him yourself one day. Trust me, knowing where a doctor lives when you are hunting a murderer could save your life or someone else’s.” He threw a glance at your friends and lowered his voice. “Do not worry — they are in safe hands, I promise you, alright?”

With a sigh you nodded and turned to stand by the waiting Bucky’s side. “Lead the way, Barnes.”

* * *

8th September 1888, 6.15 am.

The calming music of Camille Saint-Saëns rang out through Loki Laufeyson’s residence at 2 Spital Square in Whitechapel. Sleep eluded him yet again, and he found himself staring at his reflection in the steam-covered mirror in his bathroom. He wondered whether he could somehow hide the bags under his eyes after another sleepless night. He supposed that the thin cut on his cheekbone was more obvious than the drowsy eyes, but he most certainly couldn’t cover that detail. Dressed in merely his flannel drawers, he tried to tame his wet and messy hair so that he looked somewhat presentable for the day ahead. Even if any of his colleagues or patients did notice how tired he looked, he doubted any of them would press him too much. He was quite popular amongst his patients though, but he put that down to his ability to charm them with honeyed words and a flashy smile.

As long as no one asked too much he should be able to ignore their concerns.

As he splashed water on to his face in an attempt to wash away his groggy appearance, a loud knocking sounded from his front door. With a glance over his shoulder, he noted it to be too early for visitors.

I am not due in work until 7… What in the bloody hell—?

“Shit,” he said and quickly hurried to his bedroom to make himself decent and shut off the music box. As he reefed on a pair of trousers, the knocking persisted downstairs.

He cursed again as the muffled voice of PC Barnes came through the door. “Loki? It’s me, Bucky! Open the bloody door!”

With a growl, Loki stumbled down the stairs with only one arm through his shirt sleeves. With his free arm he unlocked the door and swung it open. He had been expecting the constable, he was not prepared to see Miss Y/L/N also standing on his doorstep.

“Bad time?” PC Barnes teased, noting his state of undress.

“What do you think?” Loki snapped, pushing his hair off his face.

Upon pushing away the hair, he inadvertently revealed the fresh cut on his cheek, and PC Barnes was quick to frown. “What happened to you?”

“Some bludger tried to rob me,” he replied gruffly. “So I made sure all he got was a black eye.”

“You can’t seem to stay out of mischief, can you?” It seemed that Barnes was eager to annoy him further, even with his bruised face. “And you know better than to dress so suggestively in front of a lady.”

“It is nothing I have not seen before,” she assured him, obviously trying her best to look at his face rather than his bare chest and abdomen. “Have you forgotten my line of work?”

He wasn’t exactly sure why, but Loki felt a small sense of pride knowing that he had such an effect on her, especially considering she was no prude or stranger to nudity. He supposed that being ogled by a beautiful woman was something to be pleased about, and he put his reaction down to that observation alone.

“Is it another one?” Loki asked them, looking between the pair as he shrugged his shirt on and began to button it up.

James nodded. “Over on Hanbury Street. Stark sent us to pick you up and bring you over.

With a heavy sigh, the doctor opened his front door a little wider. “Come inside while I gather my things. I will only be a moment.”

With the constable and the street-walker now waiting anxiously in his hallway, Loki quickly ran up the stairs again and gathered his equipment in a rush, all while preparing himself for another grisly scene and body to investigate. Before he joined them downstairs, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror again, now fully dressed and ready to go. He looked rough, that was for sure. He hoped that Inspector Stark would not press him about his appearance and would simply let him do his job without being disturbed.

I suppose at least I can do so in the company of a pretty woman, he thought and took a deep breath before joining said woman and the constable once more. That is, at least, a small consolation.

Taglist: @heysliver @lisalisa007 @ava-royal @eloisemacguffin @tvdplusriverdale @trickster-grrrl @mellow-mischief @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #au #jack the ripper #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #loki/reader #loki x reader fanfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #james rhodes #scott lang #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #pepper potts #tony stark #stephen strange #london #victorian fiction #violence #do you fear the devil

[aliensforleaders]

Electric River - Part Three

Pairing: Rami Malek x OC

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence and injury, very subtle mentions of mental abuse, kissing, cuddles, and fluff yay! told you to bear with me lol

A/N: I absolutely love this story and I’ve fallen in love with these characters. This truly is the best thing (in my opinion) that I’ve written in a very long time. I love all of you that are reading this and thank you!! Enjoy!

*to find other parts of this story, search the tag ‘electric river fic’

Five Years Ago-

Vic sat at her desk, starring at the clock. Time seemed to stand still when she watched it. Mrs. West stood at the front of the class droning on and on about American government and Vic couldn’t be less interested.

The girl next to her leaned over and mumbled, “Ten bucks says she’s a Republican.”

Vic chuckled, “Oh what gave it away? The hard on she had while talking about Bush or the fact that she mentioned the second amendment forty-three times?”

The girl fell back into her chair, laughing a little too loudly.

Mrs. West stopped in the middle of her sentence and looked directly at the two.

“Is the Constitution really that funny, Ms. Ward?”

Alex was about to reply, but Vic jumped in, answering for her. 

“Oh only when you explain it, Mrs. West.” Vic grinned and winked at her.

“Great then you and Ms. Ward can continue to laugh about it in detention.” she walked over to her desk and wrote something down, continuing with her lecture.

“Damn. Well I’m Alex by the way.” the girl mumbled to Vic.

“Oh okay I thought I was going to have to refer to you as Ms. Ward for the rest of the day. I’m Vic. It’s short for Victoria, but we don’t talk about it.”

“Amen.” Alex replied with a smirk and began drumming her pencil on her desk.

They both slouched against their chairs the rest of the period until the bell finally rang. The two girls walked up to Mrs. West’s desk and she gave them a condescending look.

“You girls really should pay attention. This is going to be important some day.”

“You know you are right, Mrs. West. I’ll remember that when I’m writing my first hit single about peace, unity, and the poison of war.” Vic replied, her chin raised up slightly.

“The next Bob Dylan?” Alex said, sounding very amused.

Mrs. West shook her head and handed them both a slip of paper.

“Go see Mr. Johnson in G4.”

Vic saluted dramatically and stood up straight, “Yes ma’am. After you Ms. Ward!” she stepped aside and gestured towards the door for Alex to leave first, who was holding in her laughter. 

They left the class room and irrupted in laughter.

“Dude I have never seen someone talk to a teacher like that. You’re kind of incredible.” Alex beamed at her.

“So they tell me, my dear.” Vic walked tall even though she wasn't and held her head high, a look in her eye as if she knew something no one else did.

Alex watched her in amazement. How could she be so fearless? Alex had always felt like nothing and no one, but standing next to Vic she felt as though nothing could touch her. 

“Hey you mentioned writing music. Do you?” Alex inquired.

“Oh yes. All the time.” Vic replied, still looking forward.

“Well could I see it sometime? Maybe I could write a tune for it?” Alex sounded excited.

Vic looked over at her, studying her face.

“You mean you play?”

“Well yeah, I play guitar. Not great, but I get by y’know.”

Vic smiled looking forward again.

“Yeah I’ll show you when we get to detention.”

Alex felt like something was happening here and it was good. A sort of foreign feeling for her. Vic’s presence was intoxicating and the best part was she knew it. People seemed to categorize her as arrogant or cocky, but there was something special about her and the difference between Vic and other special people was that she knew it. If you look at her eyes long enough you could see it.

Present Day-

Rami walked down the hall towards the cafeteria. He had left Vic in the chair next to Alex, and told her he was going to get them some coffee. When he came back a while later Vic was curled up in the chair, her arm outstretched so she could hold Alex’s hand and she was asleep.

He left her coffee on the bedside table and decided to go find Audrey and check on her. He followed the signs around the hospital leading him to Radiology. He asked the nurse at the Radiology desk where he could find Audrey Simmons and she told him that Audrey had been moved to the second floor in room 223.

He found the elevator and went to the second floor, again, following the signs to her room. When he got to it, he knocked on the door and a male voice called, “Come in.”

Rami opened the door and Audrey was propped up against a pillow, a cast on her arm and a few small bandages on her face. James was sat in the chair next to her.

“Hey guys. Are you doing okay, Audrey?” Rami asked, sitting in the chair opposite James.

She sighed, “I mean I’ve been better. Where’s Vic? Did you see Alex?”

“Yeah we did. Vic isn’t doing well with all of it. She collapsed on the ground when she saw her. I left to go get coffee and when I came back she was asleep holding Alex’s hand.”

Audrey and James shared a knowing glance.

“I really don’t know what I should do.” Rami starred down at his shoes.

“Vic and Alex are very close. They always have been. They love each other a lot in a very different way than normal. It’s almost like they are connected. Like twins.” James explained.

“Rami, you just have to be there for her. She will pull through and so will Alex. They will fight for it, conscious or not. They are like that.” Audrey rubbed her eyes with the hand that wasn’t in a cast.

“Yeah.” he replied absentmindedly.

“She tried to save me.” Audrey said abruptly.

James and Rami looked at each other and then back to Audrey.

“She saw the truck coming before I did. She pushed me back with her arm and leaned over me. It’s why she got hurt worse. To save me.” Audrey zoned out.

James grabbed her arm gently, pulling her out of her trance. “Hey. She’s going to be okay.”

She smiled at him sadly.

Well do either of you need anything? Food? Coffee?” Rami offered, trying to be helpful.

“No I think we are okay.” Audrey replied.

“I’m going to stay here tonight with Audrey so I’ll go grab clothes and all that later. Thank you though, man.” James thanked him.

Rami stood and walked towards the door, “Of course. I have my phone on me, so if you should need anything give me a call. We are upstairs in ICU.”

“Will do.” Audrey answered. “Oh and Rami.”

“Yeah?”

“Just please let Vic know I’m okay and that I love them both.”

Rami smiled softly. “I will.” he turned and left, heading back to Alex’s room.

———

When he got back to the room, Vic was awake holding her coffee to her chest with both hands wrapped around it. She looked up to Rami as he entered and he could see that her eyes were puffy and red.

“Hi.” she said weakly.

“Hi, babe.” he went over to the chair and pulled her onto his lap, stroking her hair. “How are you doing?”

“Not good. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“Have hope. I know that probably feels wrong, but you are so good at it. You are always looking towards a brighter future. Just keep doing that. Alex is strong she won’t let this take her away.”

Vic sighed. “We can’t stay here can we?”

“No we can’t. We can come back first thing tomorrow though. I went and saw Audrey.”

Vic lifted her head from his chest. “How is she?”

“She’s alright. She has a broken arm and some scratches, but she’ll be okay.”

“Thank God.” Vic whispered.

“James is with her too.”

“Good. I’m glad he can be with her right now.” Vic cuddled up to him again.

They sat in silence for a moment. She felt so small and fragile which was the polar opposite of her normal state. She always stood tall with her chin up and the proudest walk, always a hint of a smile on her lips. She always had something witty to say, but now she was hurting and if she needed him to, he would move mountains for her, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Thank you.” Vic said quietly.

“No need. I’ll always be here when you need me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

———

The drive home was quiet except for the pattering of rain on the hood of the car. Vic held onto Rami’s hand tight as she watched the headlights pass by. Every once in a while Rami would squeeze her hand so she knew he was still paying attention to her, and she squeezed back letting him know she appreciated it.

“Do you know why I am the way that I am?” Vic broke the silence, speaking softly and keeping her eyes out the window.

He glanced over at her and then back to the road.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, wondering where this was going.

“Why I walk around like I own the place? Why I speak as if nothing bothers me and always with the utmost confidence?”

“No I don’t. Why?” he indulged her.

“It’s because I had to. People have tried to take those things from me all my life. My self esteem, my confidence, my dreams, the things that I love. Only one person has ever succeeded, but it didn’t take hold for very long. My dad. He tried. He had me believing that I was nothing and that I would always need him. I didn’t want him to have those things, so I took them back. I won. He lost. The hole he dug for me…he was the one that fell into it. Once I took those things back I put them on a glowing pedestal for everyone to see. Look everyone. Look at what I took back. I promised myself I would never hide them because I fought so hard for them. That’s why I act like nothing can hurt me. I’ve already won my war. Now the rest is just the victory lap.” Vic chuckled softly at the last part.

Rami starred at the road, a tear forming in his eye. He pulled over on the shoulder and turned towards Vic.

“Vic, look at me.”

She looked over at him, looking more vulnerable and shy than ever.

“When I first saw you at that show…I felt like I was witnessing some sort of historical event. I had never seen anyone have the look in their eyes that you do on a daily basis. It’s incredible. I’m sorry that this had to come from something so awful, but I am so proud of you, Vic. I’m so fucking proud to stand by your side and watch you walk through fire completely unharmed because you reject the notion. You are so full of life and light and, God, you make me feel so lucky just to know you let alone love you. And I do so much. I love you.” 

Rami expressed this to her with such passion and now they were both sitting on the side of the road, in the rain, crying in her car. She hadn’t shared a moment like this with anyone since Alex.

“I love you too. I’m scared that I’m going to lose Alex.”

“I know, baby. But I need you to do what you do so well and hold your head up and keep walking. I’ll walk with you. Everything is going to be okay.”

She wiped her eyes and Rami leaned over the center console, pressing a loving kiss to her lips that lasted as long as he felt she needed. He pulled away, their noses still touching.

“I’m going to get you home now and make us some warm comforting food. We are going to watch some mindless tv and then we will curl up and go to bed, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed her forehead, and got back on the road heading towards her apartment.

———

When they got home, Vic went to change and Rami started to cook. He was going to make her favorite, mac and cheese.

Vic went to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, taking a deep breath.

“C’mon, love. You can get through this.” she told herself out loud. She made it a habit to talk to herself often when she went through things that were stressful. She also made sure it was always positive.

She went to her closet and put on a hoodie and some leggings. She could smell what Rami was cooking and smiled, knowing he was making her favorite.

She walked out to the living room and sat on the couch, pulling her legs to her chest. She leaned her head against the back of the couch and watched Rami cook, admiring the way he would hold his hands up and wiggle his fingers when he couldn’t find a utensil or a bowl.

“Okay it’s done!” he said in a sing-song voice.

She giggled as he came over with two bowls, handing her one and setting his on the coffee table.

“Alright so what are we going to watch now?” Vic asked him.

“Umm how about The Voice? I think there are new episodes.”

“Oh darling don’t make me laugh. If I have to watch any more clones get famous I’m going to scream and quit my job.” she stated bluntly, sounding much more herself.

Rami laughed loudly. “Well alright then your majesty. What are we watching then?”

“Mmm…how about that baking show with all the cute British people? It’s lovely when they help each other.”

He shook his head, still laughing at her. He put on the show and they finished their food together. Vic pulled a blanket over them and curled up against Rami’s side. He held her tight and smiled to himself. It felt as if everything just might get better.

#rami malek #rami malek x oc #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek fic #electric river fic #rami malek x reader

[cassiopeiassky]

I Don’t Want the World to See Me (Cause I Don’t Think that They’d Understand) #11

Write a companion piece, I said.  It’ll be fun, I said.  It’s just drabbles, it won’t take too long.  

I’m still lying to myself as I post this 3k+ ‘drabble.’

This is a companion piece for When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) from Bucky’s POV - if you haven’t yet read WEMtbB, this won’t make much sense.

#11 takes place during part 41

***If this is your first time reading through, and you HAVEN’T yet read through part 45 of WEMtbB, this will contain major spoilers***

Word count: 3251 *slams head into desk*

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: thinly veiled threats, injury, violence, threats/mentions of death, panic, anxiety    If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.  If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie.  I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests.   Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

He shouldn’t have let his guard down; he shouldn’t have fallen asleep.

Not that it would have mattered.  The outcome would have been the same.

Bucky wakes when the door slams open and the lights come on, but there’s nothing he can do.  When she’s torn out of bed and he can’t hide it – he knows in that split second that his face has betrayed his emotions - he can only hope that the men mistake it for being startled.

Get your shit together, or you’re gonna have to explain to Artie and Jimmy why you couldn’t save their mom.

Or rather the team will, because Bucky has no intention of leaving here alive without her.

He allows the Soldier to take over as he’s pulled out of the bed by his hair.  It doesn’t exactly tickle, but compared to what he’s been through it’s easy to ignore.  He relaxes his body to minimize potential damage as he lands roughly on his knees, and then sways with Anatoliy’s hit.

“Just kill him, Kapitan, his skillset is not worth the lives of our men.”  Grigory speaks from behind her; Bucky can see her visceral reaction to the man’s hands on her, but is distracted a moment later when he’s kicked in the stomach.

Once again the Soldier ignores the pain; the cold metal of Anatoliy’s gun against his temple has his full attention.

Oh shit.  Oh shit. This is real; Bucky can read Anatoliy quite clearly, and right now Anatoliy isn’t bluffing. This isn’t supposed to happen – he made damn sure those deaths weren’t traceable to him.

Panic washes over him as he realizes he overplayed his hand.  He’d assumed that after all the trouble they’d taken to get him that they wouldn’t kill him recklessly – that they’d need a compelling reason that was backed up with some sort of proof.  Proof he knows they don’t have, and they’re willing to kill him anyway.

He’s never made a tactical mistake like this before.  Never.

If they kill him, she’s gonna end up paying the price for his error.

Bucky weighs his options. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to choose from.  There are eleven men in the room; under different circumstances he would like these odds, but she’s being held by Grigory and the bastard might snap her neck before Bucky could get to her.  Even if he could manage to take Grigory out first and get her behind him so he can protect her, he’d still have to get through the other ten men before someone sounded an alarm.  Getting her out of this room alive doesn’t mean shit with that collar around her neck; they can still kill her with the press of a button. Then again, she’d probably prefer that over the alternative.

His other option is to do nothing.  

He has to try; he can’t allow them to kill him when he knows what they’ll do to her once he’s dead. He can’t leave her like this, thinking he did nothing to save her.

His mind made up, Bucky readies himself to move – then stops as Nicolai walks into the room.

“That would be a bit merciful, yes?  He still has some suffering to endure, I think.”

The statement is meant to intimidate, but it’s all Bucky can do not to exhale in relief.  He’s not worried about whatever pain Nicolai plans to inflict, he’s more focused on the time he’s been given.  He just needs a few minutes to think.  If he can figure out how to take out Nicolai, Anatoliy, and Grigory all at once, that might give him enough of an advantage...

“Hold out your right arm, Soldat.”  

Well shit.  This is going to be incredibly inconvenient.

Bucky lifts his arm and does his best to relax his joints.  It won’t be the first time his shoulder has been dislocated, but that doesn’t mean it will be fun.

Nicolai takes his arm and forcefully twists; Bucky feels the bone leave the socket.

Yep, that stings a little.

He doesn’t feel the burn of torn tendons, so it’s not as bad as it could be, all things considered.

Everyone looks up at the sound of running footsteps in the hall – Bucky wouldn’t have expected salvation to come from one of Nicolai’s men, but it does.

“I reviewed the camera feed as you asked,” the man gasps, “It was not him.”

Well glory fucking hallelujah.  

As he watches the conversation, he sees how he moves once again from liability to Asset in the eyes of his captors.  He’s relatively safe now, and by default, so is she.  It’s enough for now.

His name essentially cleared and their minds now occupied by an unknown threat, Bucky allows himself the tiniest breath of relief when he sees that the chaos he’d sown finally begins to take root and spread.  This had been his intention – the fear and unease of an invisible enemy within their own defenses has visibly set them on edge. Good.

Still, he’s going to have to be more careful; he can’t make a mistake like this again.

***

Bucky sits in Yakov’s hidden room and rubs his tired eyes as he waits for Steve and Nat to show up. His reset shoulder aches, but it’s nothing more than a minor annoyance.

He’s got more important things on his mind, like getting her the fuck out of that hellhole.

Bucky has already spoken with Stark, who left immediately after to arrange the coverup for the next round of executions – he was visibly disappointed that Bucky wasn’t able to provide any new information on those goddamn collars.  

Well, Bucky’s disappointed, too.  At least she’s relatively safe; he’d listened carefully to make sure that prick Grigory really did just escort her to her room and didn’t try anything, and now that he’s at Yakov’s shop he’s able to monitor her through one of the tablets Stark has piggybacking on their security system.  He tries not to do it too often, though, because she doesn’t know it’s him and he feels like he’s invading her privacy. It’s…difficult, to say the least, when all he wants to do is see her and take comfort in knowing she’s okay.

His thoughts are interrupted when Steve and Nat enter the room; they prop the door open since they don’t have anyone standing watch as everyone else is working with the targets of Bucky’s current mission.

“Alright Buck,” Steve unrolls large sheets of paper and places them on the table.  “We were able to find the building permits and blueprints for the Krakken manor.  This should help with logistical planning, so why don’t you give us a tour.”

Bucky nods as he stands to get a better view of the plan.  “They keep her here,” he points to a room on the second floor in the eastern wing.  “This area has mostly guest rooms, but their non-militant staff, the few that primarily do housekeeping and the like, are housed here as well.  Most of the common areas are on this floor, like the kitchen and dining hall, but there are some recreational rooms on the first floor and a gym in the basement. Krakken’s men are quartered in the west wing; the higher the rank the higher the floor.  The first floor is more like a barracks than anything else, and the third floor is where their most trusted people have suites.  Nicolai and Anatoliy have full apartments on the third floor of the east wing; Metzger’s lab is in the center.”  He chews on his bottom lip as he considers the prints, “The armory is on the first floor in the eastern wing along with their security equipment, which is probably why this side of the building is more heavily fortified.”

Steve lets out a noisy breath.  “Well, they certainly didn’t do us any favors, did they.”

“The eastern side is surrounded by the wooded area, right?” Nat questions with her brows furrowed.  

“Well, the entire area is wooded, but it’s thickest there, yes,” Bucky mutters as he turns to study a map.

“That might be your best place to escape, then.  Even if it’s got higher security, the woods give you a greater advantage over the driveway or the sparser areas.”

“I think you’re right, Nat. I hid my motorcycle over here and walked up when I first arrived,” Bucky points to a spot in the woods roughly 4 miles from the manor, “but if I can move it closer and part it here, then we’ll have a vehicle.  It’s not ideal if the weather stays so damn cold, but a bike is a lot easier to hide then a car.”

“Easier to maneuver through the woods, too, if they give chase.  They’ll have to follow on foot or slow down considerably to get a car through there,” Steve murmurs.  When his comrades nod their agreement, he continues, “I’ll find a way to get your bike closer.  Maybe Stark has something that-”

Bucky tenses when he hears footsteps coming quickly down the stairs, but Steve is quick to assure him that it’s just Yakov.  “He wants to help, he just had a customer he had to take care of.”

Choosing to trust his friend over his own unease, Bucky again turns his focus to the plans in front of him.

A door slams, and another set of footsteps is heard barreling down the steps as an unfamiliar voice begins to speak from the doorway.  

“You…You are not really the Soldier…”

Bucky clenches his jaw as he reaches for the firearm at his back; he can see Nat and Steve doing the same in his peripheral.

“You have been pretending.” The blonde stranger stares at Bucky from behind two black eyes.

“No!” Yakov’s panicked voice echoes down the stairs along with his hasty footsteps, “Do not hurt him, please!”  He gets to the door and pushes the other man aside.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed, bratishka??”

               |bratishka – little brother

“I need to talk to them!”

“You need to go back upstairs!” Yakov says forcefully, but he’s unable to completely mask the fear in his voice.

“He’s not going anywhere, Yakov,” Nat says calmly, but doesn’t lower her gun.  “Bring him in here.”

Yakov goes white as he stands frozen.

“You heard her, Yakov. Bring him in,” Steve’s tone leaves no room for argument.

Yakov still doesn’t move as the other man pushes past him to enter the room.  “Please, he is practically family…”

Bucky stares for a moment before lowering his firearm.  He’s seen this man before.  “Mikhail?”

“You know him?” Nat keeps her focus and her gun aimed on the stranger.

“He works at the manor, but he’s collared.”  Bucky remembers how his girl reacted when Mikhail was beaten; she wouldn’t have acted like that if this man hadn’t treated her with kindness.  Besides, Bucky is confident in his ability to read people; this man means no harm.  “He’s not a threat.”

Yakov audibly exhales when Bucky holsters his weapon; Steve follows Bucky’s lead immediately, but Nat keeps hers trained on Mikhail.

“You sure about that?” she asks sharply.

Bucky nods.  “I trust my girl; from what I saw, she seemed to consider him an ally, maybe a friend.”

“But how do you know? You-“

“I know her, Nat.  Yes, I’ve have limited observations, but she’s not afraid of him, in fact, she’s shown concern for him, and on the night I arrived, he was the one that got her out of that goddamn hall.”  Bucky places his hand on her gun and lowers it.  “I trust my girl, Nat.”

She huffs noisily but holsters her firearm with one last glare at Mikhail, who has been watching the exchange with wide eyes but is seemingly not frightened.

Steve turns his gaze to Yakov.  “We’re already working with your family, why didn’t you mention – Mikhail, is it? – why didn’t you mention him?”

“I am not family by blood,” Mikhail takes a step forward as he speaks, “but we grew up together, Yakov and I.  He was the older brother to me that my blood brothers were not.  Our families were close; close enough that my parents gave their blessing for Yakov to ask for my sister’s hand.”

Nat turns sharply to Yakov. “His sister was the one that was murdered by Anatoliy?  The one you were going to marry?”

Mikhail’s jaw clenches as Yakov whispers, “Her name was Izolda.”

Mikhail’s eyes lock on Bucky’s.  “We need to get her out of there.  I do not know what your plan is, but I want to help.  Let me help solnishko as I was not able to help my sister.”

Bucky feels something akin to relief at Mikhail’s words, or maybe it’s the feeling of solidarity that comes with finding a comrade behind enemy lines.  Either way, he nods.  “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

Nat tilts her head as she thinks, “Don’t they call her lisichka?”

Mikhail scoffs, “Of course they do, it is part of their sick little game; they think they are clever. She understandably does not want to be called that, and I respect her wishes as far as I can.  I am not allowed to address her by her actual name, so I gave her a different one.”

Bucky is really starting to like this guy.

“You used to call Izolda by that name,” Yakov murmurs, lost in the memories of a life stolen from him.

Mikhail nods slowly. “It suits her; she has the same kind of soul as Izolda.  Besides, there was no reason to make her feel even more degraded than she already does by them; they treat her as though she is a pet, and the name they use emphasizes that.  It is a small thing that I can do for her, but at least it is something.  I refuse to aid in their attempt to strip her humanity from her.”

Yes, Bucky likes this one.

“So what can I do?  I am technically supposed to be running errands for Dr. Metzger, but I can cover for a bit of extra time.  How can I help?”

“Is anyone following or tracing your location?” Nat asks before tapping out a text on her phone.

“No, they do not bother. Besides their ability to set off the explosive around my neck, I still have a family.  Their way is to control people by using others; in my case, they would use my mother against me since she is the only surviving member of my family whose wellbeing means anything to me.”

Steve is quiet for a moment as he considers Mikhail’s words.  “Are you sure you want to do this?  We’ll be as careful as possible, but there are no guarantees.  You’ll be potentially putting your mom at risk if you help us.”

Mikhail nods decisively. “Yes, I am sure.  She would want me to do this, to do what is right.  My mother  has nothing but disdain for my father and is ashamed of her other sons. She would tell me to make her proud.”

“He is right,” Yakov interjects, “She would want him to do this.  I overheard her tell my mother once that her four eldest sons were children of duty, but that Izolda and Mikhail were the children of her heart.” He pauses, gazing at Mikhail as he thinks.  “We have not been working with the Davydov family – mostly because there has been no need, but also because they would be difficult to sway to our side as they are loyal and firmly within the Krakkens’ control – but perhaps it would be beneficial to speak with Galina.  She plays the part of the dutiful wife when her husband is around, but she is quite powerful in her own right.  There are quite a few Pakhan that keep a respectable distance, and more than one have been known to seek her counsel.  She works as a nurse at one of the clinics in the southern part of the city; she may have additional resources that we are not aware of.”

“Can you get a letter to my mother?”  Mikhail allows the tiniest of smiles, “I haven’t been allowed to contact her.”

“If you’re sure about this, we’ll make sure she gets it,” Steve promises.

“Yes.  I am sure.”

“Alright then.”  Steve points to the black strip of metal around Mikhail’s neck.  “What do you know about that collar?”

“I know only that I cannot get it off, and that it could be set to explode by them at any moment.” He pauses for a moment as he shrugs, “It was terrifying at first, but the novelty of the threat has worn off by now.”

“Do you know where they keep information on them?  Or extra collars?”

Mikhail bites his lip as he thinks.  “If they have anything, it is likely somewhere on the third floor, perhaps in the doctor’s lab or even Mr. Krakken’s suite.”

‘What are the odds you could get a hold of something?”

Mikhail shakes his head. “None.  I do not have clearance to access the third floor without an escort. Mr. Krakken requires all staff to be very thorough and vigilant; I would not be able to look for anything without being caught.”

Bucky bites his bottom as he considers Mikhail’s words.  “Do you think you could come back tomorrow so Stark could take a look at it?  He said a collar would work – I don’t think he planned for it to actually be on someone, but we can tell him now so he can prepare for it.”

“I can arrange for some of Dr. Metzger’s supplies to be damaged upon arrival.  I doubt they will send me back out tomorrow, but perhaps the day after.”

Nat looks up from her phone. “That will have to work – Tony won’t be able to get here before you leave today.”

Bucky swallows back his disappointment – this is more than he could’ve hoped for, but still.  He gestures to the chair across from him. “Why don’t you have a seat, Mikhail. I think we have some things to discuss.”

Mikhail takes the offered seat before staring at Bucky intently.  “You cannot tell her.”

“What?”  Bucky is somewhat taken aback by the intensity of Mikhail’s voice.

“You cannot tell her that you are not really the Soldier.  I am sure it will not be easy for you to deceive her, but she will not be able to hide it when the two of you are in the same room together.  Her heart is in her eyes when you are around as it is”

“I know,” Bucky mutters as he pushes his hands through his hair absentmindedly.  “I want to tell her, God, I want to fucking tell her just to give her some damn hope, but I can’t take the chance.  She wouldn’t be afraid of them anymore if she knew that I was there with her.  She - she has too much damn faith in me.”

Mikhail shakes his head slowly.  “It seems clear to me that you have earned it and that her faith is not misplaced.  She loves you, you know.  She worries more for you than she does for herself.  I know it is difficult, but let me handle the hope, yes?” Mikhail smiles brightly.  “Now, I have roughly 40 minutes before I need to leave, so let me tell you all of what I know of those bastards.”  

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my work #i don't want the world to see me (cause i don't think that they'd understand) #IDWtWtSM #11

[sakurablossomstorm-blog]

Car Accidents and Comas

For the prompt - stranger pushed you out of the way of an oncoming car but ended up in a coma AU. Sent in by @teen--scream (I’m going to do the other one you prompted but thought I’d get this up first.)

Also on ao3.

~~

Leslie had been warned so many times to look where she was going when she was out and about.

When she moved to Washington for work, so many people told her that it was nothing like Pawnee. It was busier, for starters, so she had to be careful at all times. But Leslie being Leslie, never seemed to pay attention to what was happening directly in front of her.

She was constantly buried in looking at emails on her phone or planning projects in her head that sometimes she wouldn’t notice that it wasn’t safe to cross the road. Multiple times she had just narrowly avoided being run over, usually it would just involve someone shouting and angrily honking their horn at her.

But today, when she was busy reading an email about her most recent National Park project, was where it all started.

Humming to herself, Leslie pressed the reply button as she was crossing the road, on her way to get a well-earned Starbucks, when she heard a shout from across the road.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to look up when she felt two hands on her, pushing her hard and out of the way.

There was a screech of tires, and a loud crash.

~~

“Miss, you’re going to have to stay still for a second.”

Leslie looked around frantically, ignoring the paramedic. Her brain was going thirty million miles per second. She could have nearly been hit by a car. Instead, someone pushed her out of the way.

That someone took the blow for her, and was now being lifted onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask taped around his face.

“Is he… is he…” Leslie couldn’t speak. Tears were streaming down her face and she felt sick.

“Miss, please,” The paramedic said sternly. “I need to make sure you’re not concussed.”

But that was the least of her concerns right now. She had just caused a huge incident, and now someone was paying heavily for the mistakes she caused.

~~

Leslie was taken to hospital where she was checked over for any major injuries. The doctor on call let her go a few minutes later, telling her that she wasn’t concussed but to keep an eye on any headaches that might occur during the day.

Thank God Ann was there. Ann, perfect, magical Ann was on duty that day, and was her amazing, attentive nurse. She held Leslie’s hand and comforted her when she cried.

“I have to see him,” Leslie sniffled into a tissue. “I have to know he’s ok. I feel terrible. I don’t even know his name, but he saved my life.”

Ann stroked Leslie’s hair softly. “Let me go and see if I can find out anything about him. Stay here.”

She came back after a few minutes, looking solemn.

“He broke three ribs and his right leg,” Ann started. “And there was some swelling in his brain which has caused him to go into a coma.”

Leslie clapped a hand over her mouth as she sobbed. She could have made up for broken limbs with a mountain of balloons and cuddly toys, but a coma? There weren’t enough flowers in the world to apologise for a coma.

“What have I done?” She wailed, and Ann wrapped her back up into her arms.

~~

“I want to see him.”

Ann looked up at Leslie. It had been two days since the accident, and Leslie had been told to take rest of the week off to recover.

Ann came by to check up on her and ask her simple questions, like the president’s name and her birthday. Leslie, of course, answered them all perfectly.

“I’m not sure if that’s possible,” Ann admitted.

“Please?” Leslie begged. “I just need to maybe sit with him, I need him to actually know that I’m sorry, maybe it’ll be easier for me to say when he’s unable to speak.”

Ann pursed her lips. “I’ll see what I can do. But I can’t promise anything.”

Leslie pulled Ann into a hug. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

~~

“He’s in here,” Ann said, as she and Leslie stood outside of the hospital room. “It’s not a pretty sight, so you better prepare yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Leslie said, quickly pushing the door open and barging into the room. She gasped at the sight.

It was the man who saved her. He was lying in the bed, lifeless, with tubes everywhere. An oxygen mask was placed in his nostrils and there were wires coming out of his arms. Several tubes were placed inside of his mouth, and there was a low beeping noise coming from machines in the corner of the room. He was bruised all over his face and neck, and his leg was in a cast.

Leslie swallowed as she tentatively walked around the side of the bed. He looked so peaceful, like he was just asleep, having the best sleep of his life. Not comatose.

She sniffed. “I don’t even know his name.”

Ann pulled the chart out from the bottom of the bed. “Ben Wyatt. He’s 32, and lives in Washington.”

“Ben,” Leslie repeated. She carefully reached out and stroked his fingers. They felt warm. She was surprised, she’d thought they would’ve been cold.

“I’ll leave you alone?” Ann said, giving Leslie a friendly pat on the shoulder and leaving the room.

Leslie quietly sat in a chair by his bedside and cleared her throat. “Uh… hi. I’m Leslie Knope. You… you saved me from getting hit by that car. Only… you took the blow instead, and I’m so sorry about that. I feel so terrible, and wish I could go back to that day so that someone innocent didn’t take my place. I don’t know what to do to make it up to you. I feel helpless. But you have to know that I’m so, so sorry, Ben. You have to wake up, ok? You have to. You have a family out there I’m sure that need to know you’re ok.”

She rubbed her hands on the tops of her thighs. “My mom always said that if you want to be successful and make your dreams come true, you have to get out of bed. So… think about that, ok?”

Tears ran down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away. “I’m going to come back every day until you wake up and tell you that.”

She reached out and clung his hand again, linking her pinkie with his. “It’s a promise.”

~~

She became a permanent fixture in his room.

The nurses whispered behind her back, muttering about how she didn’t even know the guy but would visit every day. Leslie didn’t care. She had a responsibility, and wanted to be there when he woke up so she could apologise for real.

She had read books about people in comas. Apparently, they can hear their surroundings pretty well, so Ben must’ve heard her apology, still, she thought it was pretty gutless to do it while he was still out of it. She wanted to do it properly.

But, as she sat down next to him, and told him all about her day, she soon realised that there was no place that she’d rather be.

Not even in the White House with Joe Biden feeding her grapes.

At the end of her visit, she’d always cling his hand and tell him that he needed to get out of bed. And every time, she hoped that he’d listen.

~~

“It’s called a golden pothos,” Leslie explained, placing the plant on the window sill. “It’s supposed to help clean the air, which is good if you’ve been here for a long time.”

She looked over at Ben, half expecting him to answer, but he didn’t. He just lay there, the machines beeped quietly in the corner.

Leslie sighed and moved back over to his bedside. “Ann said you should wake up any day now, hopefully. She says you’re healthy enough and the swelling in your brain has stopped, which is a good thing, so well done there.”

She leaned on the bed. “You’ve just got to open your eyes now; do you think you can do that soon? Not that I want to rush you. It’s just been two weeks. And I’m getting a little worried. You could just be having a really great sleep, and don’t want to wake up. I can function without sleep, so I would’ve probably been awake days ago, but you look like the kind of person who likes to sleep in.”

She titled her head to the side. “I’ve also been having a competition with myself to guess what colour eyes you have. I think you have brown eyes, really nice deep brown eyes, like the colour of chocolate.”

Leslie grinned to herself. “I owe myself ten bucks if I’m wrong.”

She held his hand again, getting used to how it felt in her hand.

~~

“Morning, Ben – oh!”

Leslie jumped back a little when she saw a woman sitting in the corner of the room. The woman looked back up at her.

“I’m… so sorry,” Leslie quickly said, and the woman shook her off.

“It’s ok. Are you a friend of Ben’s?” The woman asked.

“Yeah,” Leslie was quick to answer. “I come here a lot.”

“That’s good,” the woman sighed. “I’m Julia Wyatt, Ben’s mother.”

Leslie felt her chest tighten. Oh god, his mother. She was sitting in front of her, wondering what the hell happened to her son, when she was the cause.

Julia sniffed. “I always used to tell him to look out for cars. Look right, look left, look right again. I drilled it into his head. This is what happens when they grow up, they think they know better.”

Leslie was sniffing at this point. “He was protecting me.”

Julia looked up at her. “I’m sorry?”

“He...it should have been me that got hit by that car. He pushed me out of the way and I guess fell in front of it. I don’t know. But he saved my life, and this is all my fault. I don’t know him, I didn’t even know his name before I came here, but he rescued me. It should be me lying in that bed, not him. It’s not fair!”

Leslie sobbed into her hands, it was all too much. No mother should see her child like this.

She jolted when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. It was Julia. Leslie had a horrible feeling she was going to punch her.

“It’s ok, dear,” Julia said, pulling her into a warm hug. “It’s alright.”

Leslie sniffled into her shoulder. “You’re not mad?”

“No, not at all. This was just an accident. You shouldn’t feel bad, and you shouldn’t wish yourself in his place. What would your mother think?” Julia said softly.

She pulled away and looked back at Ben, “My son, my brave, valiant, foolish son. It makes it a little easier knowing that he saved you.”

“I want to make it right,” Leslie cut in. “I come here every day and talk to him so he’s not alone, and I want to apologise and everything when he wakes up, and he will wake up. I tell him that every day.”

Julia sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “I know he will.”

She looked down at her watch. “I have to go, Ben’s brother is flying in from Chicago and I need to pick him up, please can you sit with him a little longer until I get back?”

Leslie nodded, and Julia picked up her bag and walked towards the door, but she stopped, and turned back to Leslie.

“He likes Game of Thrones. There’s a copy of the book in his bag over there, he might like it if you read to him.”

Leslie quickly nodded, and pulled out a copy of ‘A Storm of Swords’ from his bag. It looked old and well read, but Leslie turned it to the first page and begun reading out loud.

~~

‘"Drogon," she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. "Dracarys." The black dragon spread his wings and roared. A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face.

Leslie’s eyes widened as she read it out loud. “Wow, I can’t believe she did that. Daenerys is amazing.”

She had read 27 chapters out loud over the course of the third week, and Ben still hadn’t stirred. But she carried on. Giving the character’s different voices as if she was reading to a child.

She turned the page, ready to continue reading. “Where was I? Ah yes-”

“Hello?”

It was barely a whisper, but Leslie heard it. Her eyes widened and she lowered the book.

Ben was staring back at her.

“Can you tell me what’s going on please?” Ben rasped out, his eyes cracked open.

Leslie couldn’t speak, she jumped up, the book falling to the floor and pressed the button on his bedside table.

“I…you need a nurse,” Leslie quickly said. Soon, the room was filled with doctors and nurses, each of them tending to him and checking him over.

Ann was there too. “Can we have some time with him?” she asked. “Just to make sure he understands everything that happened.”

Leslie wasn’t so sure, she wanted to be there with him, to hold his hand. But she knew Ann would take care of him, she nodded and went to leave.

As she walked out of the room, she caught his eyes staring back at her.

She was right, they were brown.

~~

About an hour later, she was allowed to go back in.

“Hi,” she mumbled nervously as she walked back into the room. Ben was still lying down, the tubes around his nose still in place. He watched her as she sat down.

“I’m Leslie,” she explained. “You…you saved my life.”

“The nurse told me,” Ben replied. “She said that you’ve been coming here every day for three weeks?”

Leslie nodded. “I felt terrible. I’m so sorry this happened, you shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way.”

“I had to,” Ben replied weakly. “You would’ve been in my position otherwise.”

“Do you remember anything?” Leslie asked. “About…about the accident?”

Ben paused for a moment. “I remember…getting coffee, and then seeing someone in the road, and this green car come speeding through a red light…that’s it, that’s all I remember.”

He winced, and Leslie quickly changed the subject.

“I read that comatose patients can hear voices. I read to you and even sang to you once. But Ann told me to stop because other patients were complaining.”

Ben smirked. “What did you sing?”

“Two Become One, by The Spice Girls,” Leslie blushed.

Ben let out a low laugh. “I would’ve preferred an REM song myself.”

He stared up at the ceiling. “I remember the sound of your voice. It made me happy when I heard it. I can’t really remember words though.”

He paused again. “Wait… I remember someone telling me that I had to get out of bed soon… was that you?”

Leslie nodded. “I used to tell you every day to get out of bed to be successful, it’s something my mom would say to me.”

Ben gave Leslie a small, weak smile. “Yeah. That sounds familiar, I liked hearing that.”

Leslie felt herself blush a little. Ben, wincing slightly managed to turn her head back to her direction.

“Will you still visit me now that I’m awake?”

Leslie blinked. “Oh, yeah of course I can, if you want me to that is. I mean, I know your mom and family came to visit but I don’t know if, maybe, your girlfriend or wife did? I mean, I didn’t run into anyone else.”

“I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend,” Ben mumbled.

Leslie couldn’t help but smile at him. Suddenly, she had another reason to stay.

Ben yawned, and his eyelids droop, and Leslie went to take her bag. “I should go and let you get some rest.”

“No, wait,” Ben said, trying to take her hand, but couldn’t move. “Please stay for a little while longer?”

Leslie couldn’t say no to that, she sat back down and took his hand in hers.

He fell back asleep holding her hand.

~~

“You said you read to me,” Ben said. It was two days after he had woken up, and was slowly managing to start moving his arms and non-broken leg, but he was still bedbound.

“Yeah,” Leslie replied, who was watering the plant, which she fondly called ‘Lila.’ “I read you A Storm of Swords. Your mom said you liked the Game of Thrones books.”

“I do,” he grinned at her. “Can you still do that?”

Leslie smiled sweetly at him. “Of course.”

She pulled out the old copy and continued reading the chapters for him. Ben just watched intently as she gave all the different characters life.

“Wait,” Ben frowned. “Did I miss the part where Daenerys buys the Unsullied army?”

“Yeah,” Leslie said, looking back up at him. “Why?”

Ben sighed. “That’s my favourite part.”

Leslie quickly thumbed back to the previous chapter. “I can always re-read it. That was my favourite part too.”

She started from the beginning of the chapter, and tried not to look at the smile that was now plastered on Ben’s face.

It was kind of distracting.

~~

“So, these came from your friends at work,” Leslie said, moving a giant fruit basket attached to a helium balloon with ‘get well soon’ on the front. “It also came with a bottle of wine, but you can’t have that until you’re off your pain medication.”

“That’s nice of them,” Ben said, he was still lying down in bed, he wasn’t able to sit up yet, but Leslie could tell he was getting restless.

“What do you do for a living?” Leslie said, toying with the string on the balloon.

“I work as a political consultant, I run campaigns for candidates running for congress and such… y’know, when I’m not stuck in bed with three broken ribs and a busted leg, what about you?” Ben asked, there was a slight grin when he finished.

“That’s cool, I work for the National Parks service. It’s fun, I really like it,” Leslie said, moving to the next package.

“Oh, this came from someone called Chris. It’s just a load of vitamins and supplements,” Leslie said, picking up a bottle of B12 vitamins.

Ben chuckled, “yeah that sounds about right. He’s my best friend, I’m sure he jumped at the chance to get me to take those things.”

Leslie giggled. “If it helps, I don’t think you’ll have to take these just yet, the doctor said you can only have liquids until your ribs have healed.”

“I know,” Ben sighed. “That’s a blessing I guess, some of them are huge, Chris describes them as a choking hazard.”

Leslie wrinkled her nose and pushed them to the side. She picked up a box of chocolates from the side and checked the card. “Oh, this is from someone called April.”

“Don’t open them!” Ben said immediately. “She’s my assistant and likes to pull pranks. I’m assuming they aren’t chocolates.”

Leslie’s eyes widened and moved the box to the side. Ben looked over at the other presents.

“Hey, there’s another box over here, you’re more than welcome to have them if you want?” he said.

Leslie grinned. “I’d love some, if that’s ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, you said yourself that I can’t eat solids.”

Leslie eagerly tore open the box, that was sent by someone called ‘Tom’. They were delicate little chocolate truffles. She happily popped one into her mouth.

“Wow, these are so good.”

“They look amazing,” Ben said enviously.

Leslie looked down at the box, and back up at Ben. “I guess one couldn’t hurt.”

She took one from the box and stood up. Very carefully she fed Ben the chocolate and poured him a glass of water to help wash it down. Ben coughed a little, but still swallowed.

“You ok?” Leslie asked, watching him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just hurts a little,” Ben replied, sighing.

“Okay, maybe we’ll lay off the chocolates then,” Leslie said, setting the box back down and rubbing Ben’s hand.

“Can you read to me again?” he asked, and Leslie nodded.

“Sure.”

~~

“Hey, look who’s sitting up,” Leslie said as she walked into the room.

“I know,” Ben replied. “I even got a sponge bath and everything today, not a highlight of my life, I’ll admit.”

Leslie giggled and sat down in the chair next to his bed, the chair she always sat in.

Ben grinned at her warmly, and went back to his food. He clumsily spooned a mouthful of soup into his mouth and grimaced.

“Hospital food tastes like garbage,” he moaned, sinking back down into his pillows.

“I know, but it won’t be for much longer,” Leslie explained.

“You know what I miss,” Ben said, briefly closing his eyes. “Burgers. That’s what I want. Just a big, greasy burger, and fries.”

Leslie paused. “The doctor said that your ribs might still be damaged and that soup would be best.”

“I know she did,” Ben sighed. “But I’m sick of soup.”

Leslie couldn’t help but feel bad for him. The next day, she turned up and set her bag on a chair, and pulled out a smaller paper bag with a burger and fries in it. Ben’s eyes grew wide with wonder.

“Don’t rat me out, promise?”

“I promise,” Ben said, quickly diving into the burger. He took a bite and groaned loudly.

“Oh god this is good, I’ve missed actual food so much,”

Leslie could only smile as she watched Ben devour the forbidden food. When he was finished, he sunk back into the pillows, full and satisfied.

“That was so good,” he murmured, a hand resting lazily on his stomach. “Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s the least I could do. Just do me a favour and eat your soup tomorrow, ok?” Leslie said, and Ben nodded.

“Maybe you could bring me a calzone next?”

Leslie scowled. “Why? Calzones are pointless.”

She cackled at the horrified look on his face.

~~

The next day when she arrived, Leslie could hear a loud raucous laughter coming from Ben’s room.

She curiously knocked on the door and pushed it open. Sat in the chair she usually resided in, was a burly looking man with a bushy beard. Underneath all that hair, he looked just like Ben.

“Hey, Leslie,” Ben said happily, looking up at her. He was smiling, it was a big toothy grin that she hadn’t seen yet.

He must really like big bushy bearded man.

“This is Henry, he’s my brother,” Ben said, and the man stood up, grasping Leslie’s hand in his and shaking it firmly.

“Hi,” Leslie said, smiling at Henry.

“Hey,” Henry beamed down at her. “Ben told me that you come to visit him a lot, that’s really nice of you.

“Oh well, this was kind of my fault so,” Leslie shrugged her shoulders.

“No, it wasn’t,” Ben said. “That jerk was speeding through a red light. It wasn’t your fault at all.”

Leslie smiled sweetly at Ben, and Henry clasped her shoulder.

“Don’t feel bad, Benji’s a tough cookie. He’ll be fine.”

He looked back at Ben. “I have to go, but I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go to the airport. Maybe I’ll sneak you a Burger King or something.”

Leslie glared at Ben. “How many other people have you got sneaking in burgers?”

Ben held his hands up in defence. “Hey, I can eat solid foods now.”

Leslie rolled her eyes, and Henry chuckled. “Right, I’ll see you two later.”

As he left, he winked at Ben, and Leslie saw.

“He seems nice,” Leslie said, sitting down in her usual seat.

Ben nodded. “Yeah, he’s a good older brother.”

He turned to her. “How are you? Tell me all about your day.”

He played with her fingers while she relayed her day to him.

~~

“There’s one bruise here that just won’t go away,” Leslie mused as she carefully brushed some hair away from Ben’s forehead and stared at the purple abrasion.

Ben had been in the hospital for a month now, and was able to get around with the help of a wheelchair. He and Leslie had started to go out to the hospital cafeteria and eating together. She even wheeled him out to the hospital gardens to get some fresh air.

“Yeah? Is it bad?” Ben asked.

“It just looks sore, does it hurt?” Leslie asked, very gently touching the bruise.

“No, maybe I’ll just be bruised for the rest of my life,” he grinned at her.

Leslie giggled and leaned on her hand. “Ann says that you’ll be out soon. You’ll be on crutches, but that’s ok, right?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be good to finally get out of this bed. I just want to do the little things that I’ve taken for granted. Like taking a shower. I just want to have a warm shower and cook dinner with a glass of red.”

“Soon,” Leslie reminded him.

“There’s something else I want to do, and I’ve been debating it for a long time now,” Ben said, looking up at Leslie.

“Yeah?” Leslie said, titling her head to the side.

“Yeah, I was thinking about maybe when I can walk and drive again, I should take you out on a date,” Ben said, his eyes gleaming with hope.

Leslie’s eyes widened. “Really? But… but you’re not mad at me? I mean… I’m the reason for all this, you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Ben cut in. “I really want to.”

He carefully leaned in closer to her, his nose brushing against hers. Before Leslie could say anything else, Ben closed the gap between them, their lips joined together, finally giving them both what they wanted for weeks.

Ben pulled away. “Tell me to stop. I can’t get my heart rate up.”

Leslie shook her head, and Ben frowned.

“You want me to stop?”

“No, no,” Leslie said. “No, I mean I don’t want you to… I don’t want…oh dammit.”

She grew flustered and pressed her lips back onto his. He cupped her face and pulled her in closer, his tongue sliding through her lips.

They stayed like that until Ben’s heart monitor started beeping like crazy. Ben pulled back and sighed.

“Dammit.”

Ann soon came hurrying in and checked his monitor. “Are you ok? Do you feel funny?”

“No, I feel great,” Ben replied, smirking at Leslie, who was flattening her hair down and trying to hide the flush on her face.

Ann looked questionably between the two, then rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Leslie just innocently shrugged her shoulders.

~~

Six weeks later, Ben was finally released from hospital.

Leslie was there with him, helping fill out his discharge papers while Ben adjusted to being on crutches. Soon, they walked out to her car and Leslie helped Ben get comfortable.

“Finally,” Ben sighed as he rested his head against the rest. “I can’t believe I’m finally going home.”

“You’ve done well,” Leslie said as she climbed into the other side. “Just maybe a few more weeks on crutches and you’ll be back up and walking again.”

“Good, I’m kind of ready to go back to work, and drive…and do other things.” He winked at her, and Leslie blushed.

It would probably be another few weeks until they would be able to have sex for the first time. Leslie was already counting down the days, and she was sure Ben felt the same.

“And I can’t wait to take you out on a proper date too, not that I haven’t loved our date nights in the hospital cafeteria, but I kind of want to go to a place that doesn’t have pudding cups,” Ben said, and Leslie giggled.

“We will, but tonight, we can go back to your place, I’ll see it for the first time and then we can order pizza for dinner,” Leslie said.

“Calzones?” Ben asked, eagerly.

Leslie sighed. “Yeah, alright.”

She pulled out of the parking lot and Ben played with her fingers the entire drive back home.

Leslie couldn’t help but feel a little sad as they drove away. She was going to miss the little hospital room where she met and fell in love. But she knew that Ben was more than ready to get back to normality, so instead, she decided to look to the future.

The amazing future that she had in store.

#parks and rec fic #parks and recreation fic #parks and recreation #leslie knope #ben wyatt #Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt #coma #car accident #chance meetings #hospitals #fic #my fics