#And it’s right when she’s planning on leaving the planet to find herself but her little cop brother keeps dragging her around | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sageispunk · 3 months ago

Text

red lipstick (18+)

↳ "Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life"

pairing: Maintenance Man! Terry Richmond x blackOC! Alisha Bryce

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (m receiving), use of handcuffs, switch! Terry & OC, Daddy kink, lipstick kink, messy bjs, pouty desperate!Terry bc I wanted to

A/N: this is like basically a random part for this AU I've been fixated on for a minute, still not sure if I want to do chronological series or just a bunch of loosely connected oneshots but I'll figure that out l8rrrrr!!! lmk in the comments if you enjoyed this, also pls like + reblog, feel free to follow my notif blog @sageispunklibrary for updates!!!

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.”

Alisha kept her gaze on the man, down on her knees in the fancy, red, low-cut dinner dress he’d bought for tonight. The lights were low and her mouth was full, throat nearly stuffed with her lover’s manhood. He sat on her sofa, leaned back with his bare thighs spread apart on the orange velvet, one arm thrown across the back as if he owned the place.

Terry was big–thick and long, unforgiving. She held her hands together down in front of her, wrists bound together by the fuzzy black cuffs he found while peeking through her nightstand drawer earlier in the day, as new as the day she bought them.

She hummed as she took most of him down her throat, leaving only about an inch of his warm brown skin exposed to the chilled air. She could tell that wasn’t enough for Terry, not right now at least. He was desperate, aching for a release and she would be just that.

She felt his hand on the back of her head loosely tangle itself in her long brown locs, fingertips lightly massaging into her scalp. With a sigh from her nose, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself, allowing him to stroke his hips up into her throat, bringing her precious cherry-tinted lips just a little closer to his base each time. Saliva dribbled out from the corners of her mouth, dripping down off her chin and onto his heavy balls. She could feel her thighs sticking together, the heat between them building with each passing second.

“You can do it, mama…take Daddy’s dick down that throat…”

His sweet, daunting voice echoed in her mind, keeping her grounded in the moment. She loved it when he talked to her like this, so rough and dominating–manly. Not to mention using the handcuffs that had been sitting in her drawer for months, brand new and awaiting the perfect opportunity. Now, her dreams were being fulfilled. It was everything she was missing with Isaiah, and that fact only made her more eager to please him, pushing herself to her limits every time they fucked, and then some.

“Look at me, Lisha.”

Terry watched as she obeyed his command, breathless as he took in the scene before him. This perfect, nasty, brown-eyed beauty kneeling for him, worshiping his dick like it was all she’d ever needed. All that consumed her mind, day and night. He knew that it was, the same feelings growing within her and dictating her every move, he felt in himself. They were on the same level again, and he’d be damned if another motherfucker got in between them after this.

He couldn’t help the moans that evaded him as she finally throated his entire length, not breaking eye contact as she nuzzled her nose into his trimmed pubes. For over twelve years, the man’s life had been structured around maintaining self-control and mental strength, but there was nothing or no one on this planet that made him feel as weak as Alisha did in this very moment.

His bottom lip found itself clenched tightly between his pearly whites, a crease growing between his eyebrows while he took everything she gave him. She pulled up off his dick, slowly sliding back up with red lips, glossy with spit and precum.

“I missed you.”

Alisha didn’t plan to say those words, but her nerves were soothed when he reciprocated the statement, his gruff voice hitting her ears and vibrating through her chest. She loved the strain in his voice, in his eyes, knowing that she had his tough exterior breaking down made her feel…powerful. On top of the world.

Terry’s other hand came to her cheek, caressing her gently as he stared into her eyes, slightly pouting at the sight of his rock hard dick standing up right next to her face.

He subconsciously made it jump, stealing her attention away. She watched it twitch in front of her, a hungry look growing in her dark eyes as her mouth watered. She needed to feel him stretch her again, her lips, her jaw, her throat. She just needed him inside again.

Alisha leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out, licking a slow trail up the vein on the underside of his dick. She circled the tip of her tongue around the throbbing head, specifically avoiding his needy, leaking hole. Terry groaned from above, losing his restraint the more she avoided his most sensitive spot. His head was filled with nothing but echoes of pleas, anguished cries for her to relieve him. All he needed was her tongue.

She smiled, watching his thighs flex and feeling the grip of his fingers tighten in her roots. She pressed her lips against the tip, firm enough to leave a smudge of red lipstick against the brown flesh. A mark of her love. Craning her neck down, she aimed for a new spot: his balls, heavy and full of cum that he’d reserved for her and her only. Over three weeks apart and he found that nothing matched his freak quite like she did…not even his own hand would suffice.

Terry bucked his hips up when he felt her soft, sticky lips on his sack, leaving yet another beautiful stain. “Lishaaa, fuck!”

He was supposed to be the one in charge at this moment, yet he felt like he had the least power, even with Alisha in handcuffs. He threw his head back, a loud groan escaping his lips as he found himself writhing, unable to take the teasing. This girl had his goddamn toes curling just from kissing on his balls.

“Look at me, Terry.”

Her sweet voice met his ears, gentle and delicate, with a hint of deception laced into her words. He returned his gaze to the woman, seeking some sort of solace in her deep brown orbs. As big and tough as he was, he was not prepared at all for how Alisha wanted to play with him tonight. For the last couple weeks, all he’d fantasized about was breaking her down all across her place…leaving his mark on her, in her, all around her.

But here she was, beating him right to it.

Alisha sat up on her knees a bit, not bothering to fix the cleavage spilling from her dress before leaning forward to plant her lips on the skin near his hip. They both stared at her nearly perfect lip print, eyes low and full of want. “Baby–”

“Take these cuffs off me, Terry. Let me take care of you like you take care of me, please.”

Terry paused, searching her eyes for any hints of mischief but he came up short. Sitting forward on the sofa, he brought his hands down in between them, pulling hers up into his lap. He clasped both her wrists with his left hand, using his right to take his chain off, a shiny silver key dangling in front of her greedy eyes like the world’s last golden ticket.

It was as if time slowed down, the air seemed thick and heavy, a cloud of desire extinguishing any sense of hesitation in the pair. They both watched as the key slid inside, twisting and releasing the lock with a soft click. The cuffs fell to the floor but Alisha’s hands remained, suspended in his hold. Terry’s eyes came back up to meet hers, intense and unrelenting as he pulled her closer.

He swallowed down her gasp when their lips met, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished in both the softness and the slight taste of himself. Terry’s tongue wriggled into her mouth, passionately dancing with hers in a battle for dominance. They moaned into one another, lips melding together seamlessly, a reminder of how perfect they are together.

Alisha pulled her hands from his grasp, slowly so as not to be noticed. Her slender fingers found his length, stiff and weeping for her. A thumb lightly tapped the stickiness on the head, and she grinned into the kiss at his sudden twitching. She rubbed light circles on it, attentive to the way his mouth began to fall open as she pulled back from the kiss, not bothering to slow her movements on his delicate tip. Her left hand fell back to his balls, holding them and only slightly squeezing the warm sack in her palm, just as she’d wanted to earlier.

“Does that feel good?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but she caught it. Just as well as she caught the quiver in his bottom lip when she squeezed just a bit tighter.

She kneeled down between his thighs again, bringing her face back closer to what she’d needed most. Not wanting to waste anymore time keeping him on the edge, she dived in, removing her thumb and replacing it with her hot tongue. She reached her right hand up to one of his small brown nipples, rubbing his own stickiness from her thumb into the hardened bud. Terry’s body jerked up, attempting to crumble in on itself while her hungry tongue swirled around his tip. “Ohh shiiiiitttt, Lish, please, fuck!”

Her head dropped into his lap, her other hand coming up to rest on his thigh while his dick slid into her throat with much more ease than before. She bobbed up and down, savoring his taste on her tongue and his cries in her ears. She felt so in control, taking him down to the hilt each time, moaning and drooling around his thickness like a slut.

“Baby, that shit feels–mmmm–so motherfuckin’ good, I swear to god…” Terry groaned out, his brain growing fuzzier while she went down on him like she’d been starving for his dick. She gagged and slurped and hummed around him, all the while looking up at him with those perfect, teary eyes– like a wet dream come to life. His big hands gripped the edges of the sofa while he tried to hold on to the little bit of self-control he had left.

Alisha came up once more, letting him fall out of her mouth before she refocused her attention on his balls. Both hands wrapped around his dick, steadily jerking him as she sucked and licked on his sack, not caring to wipe away the spit across her cheeks and chin. She was being messy and nasty and she didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing herself because she knew that Terry was loving this side of her as much as she did.

He palmed his face, cursing under his breath as he felt himself at the edge once again. His legs trembled as he tried to hold on, to savor the feeling of her hands and her mouth on him again after so long. There was nothing he needed more but to be surrounded in her warmth, physically and emotionally. He longed to be this close to her, this vulnerable with her, always.

She released his balls with a gentle pop!, continuing to jerk him off with both hands from the base to the tip. “Cum for me, daddy…” She stared into his eyes, finding herself lost in them, in him. “I need to taste you, please.”

Terry relaxed as her soft whispers hit his ears, the combination of her dirty words and the yearning that was revealed in her eyes helping him over that peak. “Lisha, I’m–”

She quickly put her mouth on the head as he tensed up underneath her, both his cries and her moans filling the room. The taste of his nut on her tongue had her nearly cumming herself, her thighs subconsciously grinding together as she listened to his whining above.

“Oh my god, ohmyfucking–fuckkkk…” Terry’s usual rough, baritone voice was higher now, sweet and shaky as he panted out and emptied himself in her. His vision was teary but he tried to stay focused on Alisha between his thighs. She took everything that he gave her, slowing her hands down on his dick while swallowing down nearly every drop of his seed. The filthiest image of tonight seared itself into his mind when she smiled up at him, licking the spare cum off her fingers with more smeared on her plump pink lips.

She giggled softly, watching the big man come back down to Earth, his dick softening back to its usual form. His gaze was soft now, the love he felt for her shining right through his long eyelashes. As the intensity of the moment calmed down, she became more aware of her sore knees on the carpet, but especially her bare, aching pussy underneath her dress. Terry noticed her shifting and immediately straightened up, leaning forward to pull her up into his lap. “C’mere, love..” She sat on his left thigh with her legs stretched out across his right, burying her face into his neck. “You did a good job, baby…made me feel so good, thank you.”

He spoke his praises into her hair in between kisses, rubbing a large hand up and down her exposed back. She sunk into the feeling, head still hazy but paying more attention now to what her body craved from him. Terry gently laced his fingers in her locs, pulling back to find her eyes again.

“You gon’ let me take care of you now?”

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @uniqueoutlierblog @notapradagurl7

@planetblaque @urfavblackbimbo @brattyfics @hotmessexpressssss

@soft-persephone @blowmymbackout @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@wakandamama @avoidthings @mzindependent

(lmk if u wanna be added/removed from this, i just went through my other terry fic rbs)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#sageispunk #my writing #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black oc #aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #rebel ridge #rebel ridge fanfiction

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 2 years ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

#predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #predator #yautja #yautja x human #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #smutwarning #predator smut #yautja smut #monster fuqqer #monsterfucking cw

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thequietkid-moonie · 3 months ago

Text

Darling wants to leave the Astral Express

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Himeko, Welt, March 7th, Dan Heng ] [ Honkai Star Rail ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

Penacony has done so bad to me!! Broooo, even when I know everything is alright im still crying for all that happened 💀

anywaaaas this idea has being in my mind for a while and im finally writing it!! Yaaaay!!! ❤️

Himeko

Himeko is incredibly sweet and caring towards her darling, for her you are like a beautiful and unique treasure so she of course will care for you, but she is also quite possesive over you, she is a greedy woman so she want you all for herself

Himeko is really carismatic and beautiful, she is well known across the universe and she knows it, she uses that same virtues that she poses to be able to lull you into trusting her blindly, she knows whats best for you and she only wants the best for you, so why don't just trust and follow her? Do what she told you and you will always be safe and will never lack of anything

As much as Himeko loves being with the nameless and traveling in the astral express her real reason to be there is a bigger one, a greedy wish she keeps to herself close to her heart, and now that you are in her life she wants nothing more than sharing her wish with you, she want you to be with her as she wins more and more

Himeko is incredibly smart and perceptive, and since you are her focus of attention right now she can easily find out your little secrets (something she is actually proud of and wouldn't be ashame to use against you with sweet words), so it wouldn't take her long to find out that you are thinking on leaving the astral express

A news that is not well taken, yes, everyone is free to join the nameless and leave whenever they feel like it, but Himeko doesn't like the fact that you are even thinking about it, he panics for a moment when finding out, why would you want to leave? You two still have a lot of to achive so why give up half way on your journey?

Himeko isn't normally afraid of speaking her mind off and she is really good with words, but right now she is out of words, she tries to calm her mind to make a plan to make you give up on your silly little plan and stay with her in here, her panic slowly scale to become anger, she feels a little betrayed by your only thought of wanting to leave, but no matter what she feels she will try to confront you with a smile and sweet words, she has done a lot of work to make you follow her to just lose you for something like this

Once she is ready she will sit down with you to take a cup of coffee (like many times before) and just brought out the topic out of the blue, waiting to see your reaction at being uncovered before trying to guilt-trip you by saying how everyone in the crew will miss you too much if you go, how bad Pom Pom will feel if you left him, how you'll miss all the following destinations of the astral express, and how improbable will be for you to see any of them again if you take in consideration how many planets are on the universe. She has her way around with words and it wouldn't be dificult for her to convince you, even if you are stubborn Himeko will be more and more pushy, pressuring you more and more with diferent arguments until you feel so bad of even thinking on leaving them behind, even make you feel selfish if it is need it

At the end, despite being quite proud of what she have did she will still offer you some comfort about the regret of the bad decision you almost did, and even if you seem completely convinced to dont even think about it again she will keep an eye on you from the next days just to make sure

Welt Yang

Welt is incredibly protective over his darling, he has a past story of fighting to protect but still losing a lot, and even if he had grown and become more mature that doesn't stop him from being worried about you, his feelings for you are so intense that he just can't help himself, however he is pretty subtle with his feeling and how he express them, after all he just wants to you to love him and be happy at his side

Welt doesn't even try to be manipulative but is thanks to his protectiveness and love that he end up taking advantage of his strenght and wisdom to lull you into a blind trust, he somehow just manage to make you follow his lead because he is the perfect one for you, gently taking you in his arms with the silent promise of keeping you safe

Welt came to the astral express by simple chance when searching for something but he decided to stay and is a choise he will never regret, he not only met people he can easily consider his family and have some adventures that make him feel alive but also could find someone to love and protect

Welt tent to pay close attention to you, between the adoration and the protectiveness his gaze is constantly on you, watching every one of your movés with adoration and slowly unmasking your secrets, he doesn't really mean to pry on your privacy but he just stare at you so much that he just find out. Thats why, when you think about the idea of leaving the astral express it doesn't take him long to find out, making him have mixed feeling about the situation

Before starting to overthink and even panic Welt want to watch you a little longer and see how convinced you are about this, Welt love you and want to share the rest of his days with you, to be able to be there to protect you and make you happy, he is willing to walk with you to the end of the world (although, he hopes that this is not necesary), he doesn't want this to be a test of his loyalty and love because if he has to chose, as much as it will hurt him, he will definetly choose you

Despite looking calm Welt is pretty worried about this whole situation, he doesn't want to leave the express, he cares so deeply about the crew, for him they are his family, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he just let you go like that, he just can't lose you! So he waits and studies you carefully, watching you with close attention to try to see if you are being serious on this

Welt won't be able to bring the topic himself, if you don't say anything he doesn't want to be the one bringing up this bitter topic, besides, if you don't seem too serious or convinced about leaving the express then it would only create problems where there aren't any (even when he can feel his anxiety slowly consuming him), but if you seem serious about actually leaving the express he wil just swallow the bitter feeling and have a serious conversation with you

If you really want to leave the express it would be quite saddening for him, he doesn't want this journey to end for him, not so soon, but he doesn't want you to force you to stay if you have found somewhere else you want to be. However, Welt isn't going to leave you alone, even if you insist that he doesn't have to come with you he will be with you, even if he has to leave the express too he will do it in he name of the love he has for you

March 7th

Since March doesn't really remember her past her darling is her future, once she falls in love with her darling she becomes incredibly clingy and affectionate, not really taking a no as an answer (and yet she isn't too pushy or forceful, she want you to love her), March likes to think that you two are meant to be with each other and you two will never get separated

March enjoy a lot being a nameless, she feels like she belogs at the astral express and that she owe them one since they were the one who found her, and since she firmly believing that you are destinsted to each other then she thinka that your journey on the astral express will last for a long long time

As much as she feels a little overwhelmed by all the problems the nameless have to encounter in the expeditions she is happy that you are at her side, always taking you from the arm and dragging you around to whatever she is up to, she feels like living a dream life at your side so getting to know that you are even just thinking about leaving the astral express it breaks her ilusion

In all honesty she will not find out by her own that you are thinking on it, she isn't that perceptive and even if she does notice she will imediatly deny it, not wanting to believe you are even thinking on something like that, but when she finally gets to hear it from you (either by you telling her or even overhearing you when you were talking towards someone else) she will imediatly protest, even interrupting you before you could finish your sentence by imediatly saying how leaving the astral express is a really bad idea, you two are having fun and the crew definetly love the two of you! she just doesn't understand why would you like to leave that behind!

Where you go she goes, and where she goes you go, thats how things work in March's mind, so if you ever leave the express she will definetly follow you, but she doesn't want to leave the express so you can't leave it neither! March still wants to keep visisting other worlds and she still haven't found out about her past, besides she love her friends from the astral express and she just can't leave them! she even acuse you of being incredibly selfish for wanting to leave the express

March is going to be in a really bad mood since she have heard that you want to leave, in her mind you two are now one and destinsted to be together forever but your little desire feels like a betrayal and she will even demand and apology form your part for even thinking in something like that

At the end you'll have no other option than even apologize for even thinking on leaving her and the rest, making sure you'll never think on that again before she holds you in her arms and thanking you for not leaving her, making sure you don't notice that she was manipulating you and just mask it as sadness for your choise, and promising to herself that she will find a way for you to dont even think on something like this ever again. Still, March will not calm down nor accept the apology until you swear in your life that you will never think in something like this again

Honeslty, this has put her in a really bad state of mind, she is in the verge of tears by the only thought and the more time you spend without apologizing and retracting your words the worst she feels, it feels like every moment you spend without apologizing you just get more convinced of leaving her wich lead her to be even more heart broken and even a little paranoid

Even after you apologized and promised to never even think on leaving her, March will take some time until she manage to calm down, scare that you would leave her behind to the point where she even have some nightmares about you leaving her all alone, making her be in tears more than once and indirectly demanding for you to not leave her alone even when being in the astral express

Dan Heng

For Dan Heng his darling is where he truly belogs to, with you he is just Dan Heng and not the shadow of his last reincarnation. Finding the Astral Express and being able to be a nameless is like a bless for him, but you is what gives his life a purpose and a meaning, you are where he truly belogs and what matters

Dan Heng is quite dependent of his darling, even when he is incredibly subtle with his affection and display of his obsesion he is clear with his clinginess and worry over you, if you are alright he is alright, if you aren't then he isn't neither, honestly he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happen to you

Being really caring and even dependent of his darling lead him to watch over you at all times, wanting to be there for you for anything you could need, he is really smart but he is not so good about reading you, so it has to be that you give clear hints that you are thinking on leaving the nameless for him to actually see it

Dan Heng knows that his journey with the nameless one day will came to the end, but he wished it wouldn't be soon, however, you thinking on leaving the astral express is a great hit for him, he doesn't want to leave them just yet but he would be crazy if he continue without you, he tries really hard to don't show how truly paniced he is the moment he finally understand you have being considerating leave the express

Even if you aren't too serious about it Dan Heng take it as if you were already leaving, leading him the be over the edge, unable to sleep at night nor even take his eyes away from you, his mind is going back and forth of the fear of leaving the nameless behind and losing you, it take a while until the fear start to consume him and become obvious how bad he is right now and yet he is unable to explain his feelings to anyone, no matter how much the others ask he just say that he is fine and he doesn't want to talk about it

It isn't until he gains the courage to talk to you about it (and it has to be you who goes to talk to you because he doesn't feel the strength to bring out the topic), Dan Heng won't be able to say much but leave clear that he doesn't want you to leave the express, if you go then he will go with you but he doesn't want to leave the rest, all of them have done so much for him that leaving leaving them behind would be just unfair, he just doesn't know what to do, he doesn't want to leave any of you

At the end he is in such poor state that you probably just give up on your leaving the astral express for pity of him, he is in so much distress, no one has seen him like this before that is even heart-breaking (he even seem even worst than how he gets for his nightmares). If at the end you decide to stay he will try really hard to make it up for you and make sure you are happy so you don't think on leaving again, but if you decide to leave he will go with you but it will become more dependent of you, getting worst of how he already was

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #himeko #himeko x reader #welt yang #welt yang x reader #welt x reader #march 7th #march 7th x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #yandere himeko #yandere welt yang #yandere march 7th #yandere dan heng #x reader #x gn reader #video game x reader

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ameliablakesblog · 1 year ago

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Let the Consequences Be Damned- Lando Norris

Happy Day 1 of Smutmas!!!!

Lando Norris x Fem! Reader Words: 2.3k Warnings: Swearing, SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Masturbation (Male & Female), Semi-Public sex (if you squint) Summary: He shouldn't want her, she was his PR Manager, if anything happened there would be consequences. But what happens when she finds him in a compromising position? A.N: Here's day One! Hope you like it :) Make sure to follow along for the rest of the 12 Days of Smutmas!!

Lando couldn’t stop thinking about her.

His PR manager. The woman sent from the devil himself to make his life a misery.

Y/N was stunning. From the way she smiled to the way the room would literally light up the moment she stepped in. Lando was hooked.

And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Here he was, sat in the meeting room supposedly listening to the media planning for the upcoming month. Yet his eyes would naturally draw to her opposite him. She’d gone for her own clothing today rather than the papaya uniform, but to be honest even if she wore nothing but a cotton rag, she’d still be the most stunning woman on the planet in his eyes.

Today she had obviously decided to ruin Lando’s mind. Wearing a grey mini dress with some black heels, she looked like sex on legs.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He cursed McLaren for having glass tables as he was able to notice everything. He noticed the way she’d run her palms down her thighs when she was speaking, or the times her thighs would clench together as she repositioned herself into a more comfortable position.

Every time she moved, her dress would ride up a little higher on her thigh and Lando had to restrain himself from leaning forward to get a peek. He wondered what underwear she was wearing. Was it a thong? Was she even wearing one?

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about this.

He was at work for Christ sake. And now he was hard as a rock.

He shuffled in the chair to try and conceal his hard-on before dragging his eyes away from her to the meeting board. On the screen was statistics or something, numbers were never Lando’s strong suit. He let his mind wander, trying to think of subjects not related to his PR manager who was now biting a pen.

Fuck.

It wasn’t supposed to be seductive, but how come everything she did turned him on?

He decided to think about Twitch. Maybe he could stream tonight? But what game?

Suddenly, a thought of Y/N on her knees underneath his desk came to mind. He let his mind wander to the thought of her sucking him off while he played his games. He could practically see it. Her messing with her tits while she took him in her mouth all the way. The noises she’d make when she’d tug on her nipples and the way she’d let him cum on her tongue.

The noise he let out sounded agonising.

The room went quiet.

Fuck. Did he really moan out loud?

He looked up to all eyes on him, including Y/N’s. She stared at him; eyes wide- almost knowing?

He looked away and to the others in the meeting. He needed to leave. If he stayed in this room much longer, with the thoughts he’s having, he’d probably end up making a twat out of himself.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to-to leave, I’m not feeling good” He stood up abruptly and started to make his leave, it was an obvious lie, but he didn’t care. He needed to go jerk himself off- it was the only solution so he can get on with the rest of his evening.

He started wandering the corridors, searching for a quiet place. It was fairly late at the MTC, so it was mostly quiet, which Lando appreciated. He couldn’t think of anything worse right now than talking to people, when whenever he closed his eyes, he could just keep seeing the image of Y/N sucking him off.

He stopped his walking and groaned. He’d thought about it again. His hard-on was throbbing underneath his jeans, and he had to give it a discreet squeeze to ease the pain.

He couldn’t wait much longer, to his right was a seminar room which after knocking- he found empty. He shut the door and quickly made work of his trousers and boxers. His erection slapped his abdomen and he hissed at the feeling. He let his mind wander carelessly this time as his hand stroked his cock. He gave himself a harsh tug and whimpered at the thought of Y/N bent over the desk. Him fucking her over the desk and the noises she’d make. Would she moan loud?

He continued to fuck his hand faster, imagining it was her hand instead of him. His breathing erratic and head thrown back against the chair. He was in his own world, groaning at the filthy thoughts of his PR manager.

Unbeknown to him, Y/N had shortly left after Lando. She was concerned about him. She knew he hated meetings, yet he always endured them for her. But today with the way he left so quickly had her worried. Plus, the moan? What was that about? Did statistics really turn him on?

So she followed him down the hallways, he seemed fine- although very rushed. When he stopped suddenly you halted, maybe he didn’t want to speak to her? Even though she was his PR manager; it didn’t mean he needed to tell her how he was feeling. When he quickly darted into the room next to him and slammed the door, she let the worries slide. Something was wrong, maybe she could help?

She moved to the door and went to knock when she heard another moan. That was definitely a moan, right? She started questioning the noises she had heard from the driver this evening. The noise she had just heard sounded pleasurable; but the one earlier sounded almost in pain?

When she heard Lando moan her name she jumped back from the door.

Was that her name? she could feel the area between her legs start to pulse at the thought of what Lando could be doing in there.

It should be wrong, having a crush on Lando. She made the decision when she got the job that she’d never risk her job.

But then she just heard him moan her name again.

Consequences be damned, she needed to know what he was doing. Maybe she had read the situation wrong, maybe something bad had happened, maybe Lando was calling her name because he was in pain.

She opened the door a crack to allow herself to see in. She gasped at the sight of Lando; sweaty and flushed as he jerked his cock while moaning. She could feel herself becoming wet and for a moment contemplated walking away- this was a private moment; she shouldn’t be spying on this.

But then he whimpered and rolled his thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting his precum before using as lubrication to fuck up into his hand. All those previous thoughts left her mind as she entered the room, closing the door and locking it. Lando hadn’t seen her enter and she bit her lip at how submissible he was.

Time to have some fun.

Lando was in a world of his own. All he could think about was Y/N. His mind racing through images of him fucking her. He whimpered at the idea of her moaning his name. His eyes opened lazily to watch himself fuck his hand. But when he saw Y/N stood opposite him he jumped back in surprise. His hand paused his movements as he stared at her. She wasn’t directly looking at him per say, she was focused on the grip he had on his cock. He whimpered from her gaze. From the way she was looking at him all he could see was lust and he jerked slightly into his hand at the possibilities of what could happen now.

Y/N lifted her gaze to match his and she bit her lip. Her glossed lip rolled between her teeth and Lando was so caught up in watching them he almost missed Y/N bending down slightly. He watched the way her hands crept under her dress and up towards her centre, fascinated on the way she pulled down her pink thong to the floor. She stepped out of it before picking it up. Her lip stayed between her teeth as she looked at her thong before looking over towards him. Lando couldn’t breathe. He had started to stroke his cock again without realising but now he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. He watched Y/N walk over to him before situating herself between his legs. She placed her hands on his things before bringing them up towards his shaft, scratching her nails up his legs on the way. He jerked at the feeling, eager to feel her hands on the place he craved. When she stopped to look at him, silently asking for his permission- he could’ve finished right then.

She smiled innocently before licking a strip up his shaft. He moaned at the feeling. Anyone could’ve heard him with how loud he was being, but he didn’t care. Y/N had just wrapped her glossy lips around his tip and started to push down, hollowing her mouth to take him further in her mouth. He threw his head back, trying to control himself. All he wanted to do was take control and fuck her mouth senseless, but she had the upper hand- he was completely in her mercy. She continued to bob her head, letting her hand stroke the area she couldn’t fit. He heard her moan and looked down, jaw going slack at the sight in front of him. She was looking up at him while sucking on his tip, but her free hand was between her legs. She was fucking herself while giving him head. He bucked his hips up at the thought, causing her to gag slightly. He should’ve felt bad, but the noise sent him closer to the edge.

He could hear the noise of her wetness between her legs, the muffled moans she was making around his cock and the noise of her finger fucking herself was pushing him closer to his orgasm. He lifted his head, looking down at Y/N. She was always stunning, but like this, with her eyes closed from the pleasure and the way she took his cock almost greedily. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“I’m close” He grabbed her hair, making a make-shift ponytail and pulling slightly. She opened her eyes but didn’t pull away. In fact, pulling her hair seemed to challenge her more, as she sucked harder before pushing him further into her throat. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips up. He felt himself hit the back of his throat and he felt himself cum.

God it was amazing, his head slammed back against the chair, and he could feel himself panting. Mouth open while she continued to lick him threw his orgasm. He felt her stand on wobbly legs, so he acted fast; pulling her down to sit on top of him. He looked up and she was smiling at him cheekily. He could feel her wetness on his thighs as he came down from his high, his hands moving to rub circles on her ass underneath the dress.

“Was that- Lando!” She had started to ask something, but he wasn’t going to answer. She hadn’t finished, he realised. He was quick to stand them both and push her against the table, ass bare and legs split so her could see all of her. She didn’t even try to stop him, pushing herself back so she could lie comfortably. He got down on his knees, but she didn’t allow him the time to marvel at her. She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to where she wanted him. He laughed slightly before going in for the kill. He had dreamt of this for so long, he wasn’t going to waste the chance he’d got.

He licked a strip up her cunt before focusing on her swollen clit. God she was soaked. All for him too. He sucked hard, loving the way she moved to put both her legs over his shoulder, trapping her against him. He pushed a finger inside her, groaning at how tight she was. She felt perfect, and the noises she was making- his cock was already growing hard again. She squirmed against his fingers while he continued to dominate her clit, clenching in need for more stimulation. He pushed another finger in, eliciting a cry from her stunning lips. He pulled away to gauge her reaction and groaned at the sight. She was playing with her tits, like he’d dreamt of. She was arching her back while playing with her nipples.

Not wanting to keep her waiting he dove in again, he curled his fingers inside her, feeling her grind against his face. She was close, he could feel it in the way she was clenching around him, her wetness dripping down her thighs onto the carpeted floor. He’d never be able to have a meeting in this room again without getting turned on.

“Please Lando, please” She was begging. God he loved the sound, he moaned in reply and bit her clit. It sent her over the edge and she cummed hard. His name falling from her lips in chants as she writhed on the table. He cleaned her up the best he could before standing, dropping her legs from his shoulder. She hadn’t moved, eyes lazily watching him. She went to pull her dress up back over her boobs but stopped when Lando stood between her legs. His once again, hard cock stood proud as he pushed it over her sensitive pussy. She jumped at the feeling but didn’t complain so he looked up. He moved to bend over her so they were face to face, his cock nestled comfortably against her folds, like a silent dare.

He could feel her fast breathing against his lips, her nipples grazing against his clothed chest. They stared at each other, no one making a move.

They both knew the consequences of their actions, but they didn’t want to deal with them right now. For now, they had each other, and Lando certainly wasn’t going to allow them to think about the consequences.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one x re #lando norris x reader #landonorris #landonorrissmut #romance #reading #lando norris #lando norris angst #formula one smut #f1 2023

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youronlydarlin · 1 year ago

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warning: wow. This one's lengthy, kinda dark! Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, implied older Soap, also implied age difference, he's in his forties while you're in your twenties, Soap being a pervert, Soap being the pettiest person on the whole planet, noncon/dubcon

Hmrmrmrmrm. Jus' thninkin bout' Pervert Johnny who you turn down at the bar. Rejecting the drink he's offered you, saying that you're not really looking for anything like that since your focusing on your studies at the moment.

Pervert Johnny who's just as stubborn as you are. He shouldn't have been shooting his shot in the first place, he's already got weird stares from the other patrons all cause his drunk ass was obviously hitting on someone that's probably young enough to be his kid.

Pervert Johnny who angrily beats his dick to the the thought of you after. He got rejected, that much was obvious. But s' not going to stop him. His pace is fast, and cruel all cause he thought he could get a cutie to spill into by the end of the night. Cums his brains out, and almost passes out. Wakes up the next mornin', and almost immediately does he have a plan on how to get back at you for bruising his ego.

Pervert Jonny who you thought you'll never hear from again, till all of a sudden theirs a cute guy your mom's been talking your ear off about. Saying about how, he's such a ladies man, the charming soldier that's aged like fine wine. You've always just laughed at it, happy that your ma's finally starting to get over your asshole of a dad who broke her heart. But you did find it oddly suspicious that they've already had plans about marriage, so soon, you thought. Too soon if you ask me.

Speaking of their wedding. You missed it. Total bummer. But it wasn't your fault when the date of it inconveniently clashed with your exam week. Everyone, not just you, were nose deep in books, spending the day away in the library. You apologized to your mom, and her boyfriend via letter. The guy must be extra shy or something because he refused to video call like you suggested to your mom. Anyways, the exam passes by like a breeze, and so does the wedding. You didn't really see both of them after. Your mom calling you and saying that they're already in their honeymoon. You don't worry too much, considering just how much the week's already taken out of you, so let's just say that this was a much needed rest.

Besides. You'll finally get to meet your mom's boyfriend, well, husband now, you guess. And what's the worst thing that could happen, right?

...

Never in your life did you expect to see him, again. Pervert Johnny, who turns into Pervert Step Dad Johnny. You just got back from your classes and there he is, rough hands on your mom's ass, and they have the audacity to act surprised. She excuses herself from him, giggling wildly like a school girl while she takes your face in her palms kissing it, and talking about how much she's missed you. While you can't help but look away from the man that's standing in your kitchen. But unlike you, he stares. And you don't miss the way he licks his lips at the helpless expression you have on.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny that likes to walk around shirtless. Always just in his gray sweatpants. You think he's doing it on purpose too, never wearing boxers so you could see the imprint of his cock. Doesn't even bother hiding the erections he get from you, always teasing, and saying "Eyes up here, lad/lass.." when you weren't even staring.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny who you hate with a passion. This has got to be the prettiest attempt at revenge you've ever seen, but you don't have it in your heart to tell your mom about her new husbands real intentions.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny who near pounces on you the moment your mom leaves for a business trip. Your bending over when all of a sudden he's behind you. Frothing his dick on your ass, and you don't even have the chance to scream or run away cause he's got one of his rough palms over your mouth. He pulls you close to his chest, and he pants like he's in heat, whispering the filthiest words to your ear.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny who magically convinced you to try his dick at least once. And that's how it starts :(.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny who gets you addicted to his dick. Knowing you'll come around in no time. He's always knew you'd be the prettiest whore. And he takes advantage of the fact that your mom, well, his wife, is out of the house. You learn so quickly too. Morning head from you's got to be his favorite part of starting the day.

Pervert Step Dad Johnny who dresses you up in the prettiest lingerie money can buy. Corsets, and laces. Stockings, and bows. You have a collection of all of them right now. Be careful though, tease him enough and your getting your cute little panties pulled to the side. His throbbing dick rearranging your guts, and you see it poke through your tummy. The perv definitely rubs at the bulge, talking about how happy he is, because his baby's giving him a baby too.

a/n: I don't know what possessed me to write this. I just wanted some older soap content, kinda, this is just my second post for the day so m' sorry if it's not enough to feed you guys 😞 but there's a project that's been needing some finalizing and because of that this might not be my finest work. But I'm hoping that your having a better day than I am, my loves! Remember to always take care of yourself!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader smut #cod imagine #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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blackkatmagic · 7 months ago

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Do you have summaries for the unpublished stories (in the last patreon poll)? I would love to hear more about them!

Absolutely! I realized belatedly and while not massively sleep deprived that I should have put the summaries in the heading part, whoops. :'D

Feral/Plo - identity porn/sugar daddy/biology made them do it AU:

Canon goes AU in that Talzin handed all three of her children over to Sidious instead of just Maul. Fast forward to the middle of the Clone Wars and Feral has grabbed his brothers, both of whom are in a bad way, and skipped out on Talzin/Sidious to hide on a planet that's mostly under Republic control, where he makes a living collecting information/carrying out assassinations for the local crime lord. Enter Plo, who's in the middle of like. the Kel Dor version of a horny season. Not quite fuck or die, but fuck or be distracted and miserable and horny for months. Feral, thinking this will be a good opportunity to gather info on the Jedi, volunteers to help him out by being a sex partner whose sturdiness can stand up to Kel Dor physiology. Except that Plo is nice and Feral is maybe not prepared for that.

Jaster/Granta - Sith empire vs. Mandalorian empire AU with lots of daddy issues:

Xanatos is the Sith Lord ruling over Telos, and Granta plays assassin/weapon for his father, right up until he makes a mistake, a Jedi gets away, and Sith Emperor Sidious demands that Granta be punished for failing. Xanatos promptly sends Granta to murder Mand'alor Jaster, who manages not to die but does clock the daddy issues at 20 paces. When Xanatos completely disavows Granta and leaves him for the Mandos to execute, Jaster offers a deal - he'll let Granta live, but in return Granta will be his consort as a fuck you to the Sith Empire, and use his skill at killing Sith for the Mandalorians. Granta accepts, and they have a lot of messy sex and even messier feelings about it.

Padme/Rex - Time travel/time slips/identity porn/fake Jedi!Padme:

Canon divergence in that Obi-Wan's remarkably stupid escape from Vader's base in Kenobi doesn't work, and Reva ends up kidnapping Luke and Leia both at the same time to bring them to Vader. Padme, vaguely a Force ghost by sheer force of will, realizes that her kids are in danger and gets so angry that she quite literally tears time itself apart, throwing herself, her kids, and Vader back to the start of the Clone Wars. They all end up scattered, though, and Padme, with a brand-new Force sensitivity and Obi-Wan's lightsaber, makes a plan with her past self and goes to find her kids, pretending to be a Jedi to let her move through the front more easily. Which goes great, right up until she falls in with Torrent by accident as they're looking for a vanished Anakin. Rex, for his part, has no idea what to make of this angry, driven Jedi lady who tears her way through the CIS like she's aiming to bring them down all by herself, but is also devastatingly sad and kind when there's no enemy to fight. He does know that he very much needs to keep her alive, though, and given Padme's recklessness and Vader making plans in the shadows, that's the furthest thing from easy.

Tae/Fox - CIS!clones AU/spy shenanigans/fake relationship:

AU with CIS!clone troopers under the command of whatever Sith Dooku can vaguely train/pull out of the mud, wherein Fox is the Marshal Commander of a newly-captured Coruscant under Dooku's control. Tae is a new Knight, following in Nico's footsteps as a Shadow, and when Nico goes missing on Coruscant, he decides to go undercover to look for him. Of course, the best way to do this is to volunteer to help the infamously difficult Marshal Commander, who chews through aides like it's a sport and defies even the Sith. When Dooku starts getting a little too suspicious of both of them for comfort, though, Tae comes up with a plan - fake a relationship and pretend to hide it, and then no one will look any deeper. Fox agrees, still unaware that Tae is a Jedi and an enemy.

Cody/Maul - identity porn/Force-sensitive!Cody/canon divergence

Cody touches the wrong artefact during the destruction of the Jedi Temple and the building of Palpatine's palace, and wakes up back at the start of the Clone Wars, still fighting the influence of the chip. Not willing to trust himself enough to go to the Jedi, he instead picks the next best thing: Maul. Except that as soon as he touches Maul, lost in the depths of Lotho Minor, it's not spider!Maul who crashes down on top of him, but Sith apprentice!Maul, pulled right out of his fight with Eldra but with all the doubts about his path that it raised. He immediately assumes that Cody is a Sith Lord challenging Palpatine, and Cody goes along with it, hoping that Maul will be able to teach him to control all of his unsettling new abilities. He very much doesn't expect the mad sort of devotion Maul brings with him, or the fact that he's suddenly the whole Jedi Order's number one target, thanks to Palpatine also assuming he's a rival.

#kat answers #wip list #my writing

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sio-writes · 1 month ago

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Botanist's Guide - Chapter 15

< Chapter 14

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Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. But too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Tags: No new tags today, but Cassie really gets down on herself

Cassie Shower sex did not go as planned. In fact, Kri had simply wanted to forego anything physical and talk instead. I tried to use what little feminine wiles I still had to seduce him, but it was no use. Kri is playing some version of doctor/nurse/mother hen which leaves no room for "unhealthy coping mechanisms."

I knew scowling at him would do no good, so I sighed out my frustration and tried to appreciate the fact that he's only trying to help. I'd groaned to the ceiling and pushed Kri out of the shower, and then waited until he had dried off and left to see if I could work up the gumption to masturbate. The motivation, though, wasn't there and I stepped out of the shower unsatisfied and grumpy.

Bathing was nice though, I needed it. Hot water, nice-smelling soap. Kri had apparently texted Ari for Jillie to get me some new clothes and had them ready for me as I stepped out of the shower. I'm surprised at Kri's networking skills, and also a little intimidated.

I feel like I'm floating as I get dressed. Jillie brought me my favorite jeans and an old band t-shirt, my ultimate comfort outfit, but as I look at myself in the mirror I realize that I'll need more than just clothes. There's dark circles and bags under my eyes, I look pale, and I've chewed my nails down to the quick. I can feel my temper angrily pacing in the back of my mind, mumbling about things that need to get done.

I need to clean the greenhouse today, and find places for all the plants that aren't going to be mulched. My little planters are unfortunately in the later category, but the bigger ones I could try to sneak away with on their own. They'd fit right in with the plants at home, and I could continue the spirit of the experiment indefinitely. God, there's still so much to do, and I have so little time to do it. The lab comes after the greenhouse, and there's even more shit in there that's going in the garbage, too. I'll need boxes for the office and containers for the lab, and I have to clear space in my apartment now for the extra plants.

Thinking about everything makes my head spin, and the frustration of it all has fresh tears of blooming behind my eyes. No, I can't do this, I can't break down. Not today, not ever.

I take an unsteady inhale to push every ugly emotion wanting to surface, and jab my finger against my reflection. "You. Get your shit together."

There's a soft knock at the door, and Jillie's soft voice carries through. "Cass, you okay in there?"

My voice cracks as I respond, "Yeah, I'm good."

I push off the countertop and pass over to the door while wiping my face free of tears, opening it and letting the steam out into Kri's apartment. Jillie's still there, eyes wide and locked on me. She steps forward and wraps me in her arms, hugging me tight to her and burying her face in my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, hon."

Another deep breath from me, and I hug her back to let her know I'm functioning. "Yeah, it sucks."

She pats my arms reassuringly, and squeezes my shoulders, and I think the move is more for herself than me.

On the couch sit Kri and Ari, their heads bowed down so their antennae touch. Ari has on arm wrapped around Kri's shoulder, and another holding two of his hands as they both quietly speak in Universal. When I step out of the bathroom, though, they both stop immediately, watching me with wary eyes. Kri stands up, and I'm struck by a pang of irritation at that-- they were talking about me, or something else they didn't want the humans to hear, and it sets my teeth on edge.

I step around Julie and towards the exit. "We have to clean the lab today."

Jillie stops me halfway to the door, grabbing my wrist. "We have a few days to do that. How about some lunch first?"

I sigh through my nose. I need to get everything cleaned out, then I'll feel better, or at least I can go home and cry in the solitude of my own apartment. I turn on my heel and I'm met with three concerned faces. "Guys, I really want to just get everything cleaned out."

Kri chirps an anxious note as he rests a hand on my shoulder. "There's no hurry, why not eat first?"

His hand is meant to comfort, but instead another shock of annoyance courses through my system. I have to resist shrugging him off. "I really just want--"

"Cassie, please," Jillie says. "Humor us? Let us take care of you."

Et tu, Jillie? The thought of eating makes my stomach twist. I could barely get down the bread and fruit Kri shoved in my face, now I'm expected to eat again? I'm not in the mood to entertain a group of hovering nannies while I force down a sandwich. That shock of annoyance comes back, and I have to focus on my expression so I don't scowl. They won't let me do what I want to do, I'm going have to play their game until they're satisfied and leave me alone. After another moment to weigh my options, I roll my eyes and give in. "Fine."

At that, Jillie lights up, she even gives me a smile instead of a drawn in half-frown of concern. "You feelin' anywhere specific?"

I shrug. I'm really unfamiliar with the restaurants here, even the shops. I spend most days at the food court eating whatever is offered, and everything I need to live is supplied by the Outpost. Jillie, though, is socially active enough for the both of us, and has likely been to every restaurant and store twice over. She goes out here on Summanus more than she did on Earth.

Jillie gives me a strange look. Usually I'm all for finding somewhere to eat, but right now I just want to crawl back into Kri's super comfortable hammock and sleep for five days. I don't want to make any decisions.

Snap out of it, Cass. Be a better friend.

Back on Earth, I'd been given bad marks on assignments, failed tests, the usual. Rejection happens to even the best of us, not that I'm even close to the best, but I'm not new to the sting of it. Stephen was there to give me pep talks-- although, thinking back on it, he only did it to get me over the emotional slump and move on as fast as possible so we could focus on him. I can give myself a pep talk just fine, thank you very much, I just have to ignore the big part of my brain convinced that I do nothing but fall on my face.

To distract myself while they find somewhere to eat, I step over to Kri's bookshelf. Most of the books are in Universal, but I spy one in English and pick it up. It's an artbook; more specifically, a book on the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It's well-worn, with indentations in the thick spine and several bookmarked pages. Kri must have revisited this book a dozen times or more, if he marked out his favorites.

It's a side of Kri I'm unfamiliar with, and one I find infinitely fascinating. What else does he enjoy, besides art? Clearly he enjoys reading, too, but what kind of books? Does he like romance novels like I do? Our back-and-forth in Igrien was surface level, and thinking of the trip makes a foggy memory come to surface: his favorite color. He'd told me it was blue, like my eyes. I truly hadn't made the connection at the time, but now I want to smack myself for being so stupid. At the same time, though, I feel warm. It could be a coincidence, it could've been his favorite since he was born, or if it has anything to do with me, but I don't care.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open to the first bookmarked page. It's pop art, like I've read about from the 1970's, with bright screened half-tones on canvases as large as I am tall. There's an image of a white woman with curls of blonde hair and bright red lipstick, holding a matching red soda can with the label facing out. The image of the can is repeated as a border around the image in different colors. There's a passage that I skim, explaining the artist's process, their feelings on the creation of the art, and plans for future installations, and something about anti-capitalism.

The second bookmark makes me smile. It's a photo of a young black woman with vitiligo, wearing bright yellow underclothes that barely cover her breasts and groin. Her pose is simple, one leg propped up on a low block, the opposite hand planted on her hip. It looks like an advertisement for alcohol, if the setting was an art gallery. She's dark-skinned, and the vitiligo is a pasty white that goes all the way down to her feet, and Kri's fascination suddenly makes sense. The pattern almost looks like his.

A cleared throat to my right makes me jump, and I slam the book closed. It's only Kri; he hooks an arm around my waist and rests his head against my temple. "Is there a word for one who goes through another's things?"

A hot flash of shame locks me up. "Sorry."

"I'm only joking." He presses a kiss to my hair, and the tension in my muscles unwinds. "What did you find?"

"Your human obsession." I open back to that bookmark, and Kri makes a choked noise in the back of his throat.

"That is--uh, well--hmm," he says, rubbing the back of his neck before aborting an explanation. "It is not an obsession, I simply appreciate the aesthetics."

"Uh-huh," I say with a smile, my first smile since this morning. "Shall we go through the rest of your marked pages?"

"No no--" he grabs the book from my hands, closing it and stepping around me to place it back on the shelf. "How about…" He searches the shelf for a moment, so I glance behind me at the others. Ari and Jillie are bent over Ari's phone, scrolling through restaurants. One of Ari's hands is resting on Jillie's shoulder, and they're leaned in close together as they search. I wonder at what their relationship is, and I want to ask, be nosy. They must feel me staring, and both look up at me at the same time.

Jillie raises her eyebrows. "How about Indian food?"

The hoverbus that takes us is crowded and hot, and the person behind me keeps kicking my seat to whatever music they're listening to. I grind my teeth the whole way there and try not to think too much about what I need to do, but I do anyway. Why did The Board fail me? There was progress. It was small, but very present, and they saw that. Why wasn't I good enough? Who do these people think they are, cutting an experiment so new it's not even off the ground?

The good mood from Kri's apartment has all but disappeared once we walked out the door. It felt like the balloon holding up my mood suddenly had a brick tied to the end, and then plunged into the ocean. Kri seemed to have backed off once we left, and I understand he's giving me space, but I wish he wouldn't. His presence isn't as abrasive as the others, not that I dislike them, but Jillie can be…a lot sometimes. I love her, but I'm someone who needs quiet once in a while.

We end up at a small restaurant in the Chem Building run by the Outpost. It looks like it seats maybe fifty people max, with a small but well-stocked bar at the far end.

"Oh thank god, I need a drink," I say, pushing past the others to make a beeline for the bar, but a small hand around my wrist stops me mid-step. It's Jillie, her face pinched in concern.

"Maybe that's not the best idea?"

I roll my eyes, jerking my hand out of her grip as my anger spikes. "Seriously, Jill? I can't have a fucking drink with lunch?" She flinches back, and I immediately feel bad. I've yelled at Jillie once, and only once, and swore to never do it again. I collect myselfwith a deep breath and correct my words, "No, no, you're right. Probably not a good idea."

We're told we can sit wherever we like, and Ari grabs us a half booth with two chairs on one side. The cushions are soft and it's relatively secluded, but I find it hard to appreciate. How many more fuck ups can I make in one day, I wonder? Maybe I should just stop talking.

I take the first of the booth seats, assuming Kri and Ari will take the chairs because of their wings. But Kri sits next to me, and Ari slides in next to Jillie, who then sits opposite me. I feel trapped, boxed in and under pressure to do…something. I'm not sure what, yet. In very human fashion, Kri stretches his upper arm over my shoulder, resting it on the back of the booth. I feel his wings poke at my back, slightly extended to accommodate the booth, but he doesn't look uncomfortable or stiff. I try to move forward to give his wings more room.

A young woman introduces herself as our waiter and takes our drink orders, and I float through it like I floated through dressing earlier. Menus are handed out, and I notice that Kri and Ari's are in Universal, the squiggly lines of the language stand stark against the several English words that couldn't be translated. I sneak a peak at Kri's menu, curious, and he tilts the large sheet of laminated paper towards me so I can see. I feel his other right hand move to rest over my thigh, from the inside of my knee upwards, and before I can pretend to be scandalized he turns his wrist and opens his palm for me to take. I slip my hand into his, his fingers slotting between mine, and I feel stabilized for the first time in days.

"I've never eaten here before, what is good?" Ari asks, scanning their own menu before turning it facedown at the end of the table.

Jillie repeats Ari's action, then props her elbows on the table and folds her hands under her chin. "Indian food can get spicy, do ya'll like spice or not?"

Ari shakes their head while Kri nods, and Jillie nods in understanding. She turns to Ari, "You'll like butter chicken or tikka masala. Kri," she turns to him, "Get whatever speaks to you."

Kri chuckles as he flips the menu over, and then tilts it for me to see. It isn't a requirement to learn Universal to come to Summanus, human vocals have a hard time with some the tonal sounds. But the fun part of being discovered by an alien species, as the ento did us, is that they already decided to learn a handful of Earth languages before landing. It scared the hell out of the first contact scientists. In my early days of training at NASA, I took the course on the language hoping to get a leg up in applications, but nothing stuck. Very similar to my lessons on Korean, I've forgotten most of it outside of a few key words, like "hello," or "fuck off."

"Drink," I say, pointing at the word on the menu. It's something a toddler would do, yet I feel too numb to worry about embarrassing myself. I want to impress Kri with my knowledge of his language.

Kri smiles down at me, "Yes, that's right," and I blame the sudden heat in my face on the close quarters. "Do you have any recommendations?"

I know he's trying to distract me, pretend everything is normal, and it's a little overbearing but I think I can handle it. I look down at our linked hands. "I like tandoori chicken, and biryani is always tasty. If you're feeling veggie options I've heard aloo gobi is good, and you can adjust the spice level."

Kri hums in thought and flips the menu over to study it. I feel bad that he's down to half his hands and try to unlace our fingers, but Kri softly locks his down, making escape impossible. It's soft, like he's afraid of hurting me. He squeezes my hand reassuringly without taking his eyes off the menu and suddenly, our hands feel like a secret between us. It's pretty obvious by the way we're sitting, but the small movements of his against mine are our own, something only we'll know. I return with a squeeze of my fingers.

When the waitress brings us our drinks, the conversation dies down. I think Jillie was expecting Kri or me to talk, but I'm not feeling very chatty. It leaves a hole in the interaction, like a tear in a stocking. I stay safe and order tikka masala, but that's the extent of my attention span, and I wind up staring down at the table.

I'm exhausted, but I'm also wired. Everything to do is still on my mind, everything that still needs to be done, and we're just sitting here. Sitting around like nothing matters, and I'm growing more anxious by the minute. Kri squeezes my hand again, but I don't squeeze back. When our meals come I don't feel like eating anymore. I pick at it, rolling the chicken in the sauce as Jillie talks to Ari through a mouthful of food.

"This tastes like the creckt from home." Ari says. "'Asxu, taste." They push their bowl towards Kri, who takes it in one hand and grabs a bite with the other. His eyes light up and he hums in exclamation.

"Indeed it does! Here, try mine," he says, pushing his bowl forward.

"No, thank you, it's searing my eyes from over here."

Kri shrugs and says something in Universal that makes Ari scoff and smile. Kri reaches over and easily steals another piece of chicken from their plate. It's strange, watching Kri pick off Ari's plate, like how girls in high school would flirt with the boys. It sets me on edge, watching a tradition I know very little about. It could be cultural or just between them, I'm not sure which, but that fact of it doesn't make me feel any better.

Julie breaks the silence, "Ya'll come from the same town, right? What's home like for you guys?"

Shame twists my stomach before I can sort it away. The last time I asked Kri about his life was in Igrien, and I made him sad thinking about V'les. Since then it's been about nothing but me and my issues, and I hate to think I've been such a bad girlfriend after so little time has passed.

Kri speaks up, "We are from Lethien, about 300 kilometers, ah, Northwest?" he looks to Ari for confirmation, who only shrugs in response. "It's a small mining village built into a mountain and surrounded by forests."

"That sounds gorgeous," Jillie says.

Ari nods again. "In the summer, yes. Spring too. But the winters I do not like."

That piques my interest, and I want to say something, ask about their home, but Jillie beats me to it. "Ooh, Cassie you grew up in Maine, aren't the winters there bad too?"

"Um, yeah."

Jillie waves her hand dismissively. "She's downplaying it. Maine is up north so it sees harsh winter. Northwest of here…Ya'll farm, like, staple crops, right?"

Ari nods. "The Athena Grain that's in most breads. We also have three kinds of berry bushes that grow naturally in the area. 'Asxu is fond of the grengish berry." They turn to briefly acknowledge Kri, whose hand falters against my own as Jillie chuckles.

They keep pretending like everything is normal, like my life hasn't been uprooted. Part of me wants to scream, part of me wants to cry, but mostly I just stare at the table and say nothing. The same touch of annoyance comes back to nibble at my conscious as they continue to talk around me. I don't feel in touch with any of them, not even Jillie. I feel isolated and far away.

We finish lunch without issue, and I digest my half-eaten chicken on the walk to the lab. It only takes about ten minutes, but it's ten minutes of conversation, pointless talking, and things I'm not part of. Julie asks more questions about Lethien, and each one is a stab in my chest with a knife that says, You're a subpar friend and girlfriend.

We step into the lab and a heavy weight settles over my shoulders. My lab isn't mine anymore, it belongs to the Outpost. Well, it always belonged to the Outpost, but there's white tape criss-crossed over the counter like police tape. There's no text on it, just a shiny finish that reflects my face back at me at weird angles. "I feel like I'm being evicted."

Beside me, Kri frowns in confusion. "It is not. You will continue to live at your apartment."

I sigh. "I know, I was just being dramatic." No jokes allowed, I guess. "Let's get started." I grabbed a box of garbage bags from the apartment's convenience store on the way over, and tears begin to well in my eyes as I pull out the first one. I push my tears down. I can cry tomorrow, where I can properly process it.

"Lets grab what we want to keep, first." Jillie says, delegating the other two. "Electronics, hardware, anything not owned by the Outpost-- Cass, not that!" She stops me before I grab a single planter, my hand hovering over it. It's just a cup of dirt that I assumed would be composted.

"This is garbage, it didn't even germinate," I reply, following through to pick it up and put it in the bag.

Jillie pouts, her lower lip pushed out. "I had a system…" I look to Kri and Ari, who don't respond, so I guess I'm outnumbered. I sigh again, and pull my hand back.

"Fine." I let the trash bag fall from my hand. "My laptop's already been returned to the Archive."

"Yeah yeah, I turned mine in too," she waves me off as she scans the desktop for electronics. She picks up a microscope and sets it back down. That's not ours.

It soon becomes clear that Jillie intended to take the lead from the beginning, organizing every item into huge, unmanaged piles of "Keep," "Outpost," and "Trash." It works, I suppose, but the piles are so close together they're starting to fall into one another and we're going to have to sort through them all over again. Her system left us with too many cooks, so I wound up leaning against what was once my desk and watching her and Ari sort through the past half year of my life.

On my side, though, is Kri again. Normally, I'd be annoyed, but he's not hovering over my shoulder, he's not trying to talk to me, he's just standing half a step away. It's hands-off, not really like his style, but I can appreciate it. It doesn't do much against the visuals in front of me, though, so I resign myself to grinding my teeth and fighting back tears. There's no point in resisting anymore, there's no point in trying to salvage things, there's no point in trying anymore. I don't even have my music to cut the silence.

"Cass, what do you want us to do with this?" Jillie asks, holding up the stack of paper that contains my report. It's at least an inch thick, full of mistakes.

"I don't care," I say with a shrug. She'd just thrown away all my pictures of the planters that hadn't made it to the slideshow presentation. All my hard work, right in the trash. I grind my teeth and push back another wave of tears. Without ceremony, Jillie dumps it all into the garbage pile, where a few flutter to the ground.

She continues piling up piece after piece until the lab returns to its original appearance, sparkly clean, just like the day it was assigned to me. Just like I predicted, we had to sort through things again as the piles had started to blend together, taking twice as long as it should've.

I volunteer to carry the first bags to the trash compacter, where I had to throw out Emmie the MP3 player. I drop the bags into the chute, and turn away before I can consider throwing myself in behind them, and stand there, in the hallway. The 'Keep' pile in the lab is so small, just enough to carry in my arms and back to…I'm not sure. I can't keep the equipment in my apartment, there's barely enough room for me. We'll probably donate it to the Outpost, and then what?

I look down at my hands. Going back to the lab isn't an option anymore. The door is going to close in my face for the last time, and it's going to break something in me. Instead, I turn to the right, take the stairs down, and leave the building. I need to talk to someone else.

At my apartment, I toss my keycard on the kitchen table and I pull out my laptop and sign into StarNet, the network that allows communication to Earth. It's used primarily to send scientific data back to NASA, but we recently got an update to allow video, at least for a few minutes. I last used it months ago to talk to my folks. I'd told them about Project EVA being approved, the audit, how excited I was to get started. They don't know about anything else, not because I kept it from them, but because I ever took the time to call them about it, and I admit that I was apprehensive telling them about my relationship with Kri. Technically, he was in a position of power over me, and it's not ethical to start a relationship with a power imbalance, that's what NASA told us, at least.

I check the time and mentally calculate that would mean for my parents-- and it's just after dinner there. I dial their address, and dad picks up after the second ring. "Cass! It's been a minute!"

Hearing his voice hits me with a wave of emotion and my chest heaves. I can't break down yet. Still, it makes me miss them. "Hi, Dad."

"Oh no, sweetheart, what happened?"

I'm A Daddy's Girl through and through, he's always been able to read me like a book, especially my moods.

He leans back to reveal Mom puttering around in the background, and I recognize that the laptop is set up the kitchen. "Is that Cassie? Cassie, hi! I love you, baby!" She waves at me with a long spoon, splattering red sauce everywhere. Behind them, out the window, I see the crescent Earth peeking around the corner of the window.

I miss Earth, a little more than usual. There's no fast food on Summanus, nothing from Earth at least, NASA wanted to keep commercialism to a minimum when setting up the Outposts, so all the restaurants are privately owned. But damn, I miss gobbling down french fries from the deep fryer, covered in salt.

I can only muster a half-smile. "Hi, Mom."

Dad asks again, his face coming back into frame, "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

My chest feels like it's going to cave in as another wave of emotion washes over me. "The experiment failed, Dad. I've lost my lab, and my greenhouse."

There's no point in hiding things anymore, and I recount the events of the experiment. I carefully leave out Kri to save myself more heartache, but I know it's going to come up later. They'll ask, and I'll have to answer, but I'm going to put it off for as long as possible. When I reach the presentation, the letter of determination, and the notice of failure, both Mom and Dad are crowded around the camera, faces drawn down in concern.

"Sounds like it was a success, though," Mom says after I finish recounting cleaning up the lab.

I sigh. "Technically, it was, it just wasn't fast enough."

"That auditor they sent probably didn't help, I bet he was an ass."

That makes me chuckle. "Yeah, at first, but it turned out to be a misunderstanding. His name is Kri, and he's actually very kind."

"Oh, are you two friends?" She says the word friends like she means something else. It's a distraction from the talk of the experiment, but I don't mind.

I fiddle with my hands shyly. "We're actually…seeing each other."

"After the experiment, right?" Dad asks, drawing it out suspiciously.

I chuckle again, but awkwardly. "Well…"

Mom gasps, scandalized. "Cassie! That's incredibly unprofessional."

"I know, I know."

They both give me a look of mock-disapproval, but Mom's fades almost instantly. Dad's though, only becomes stern. Mom lightly smacks him on the shoulder. "Give her a break, Daniel, she's had a hard few months."

Dad scoffs, but doesn't say anything else. Mom pushes past him, "So, what's he like?"

I smile at her eager face on screen. She's always been supportive of my relationships. "He's an ento--"

"Ooh what color? Wait-- Is that rude to ask?"

"I don't think so. He's blue and black, about seven feet tall, big wings. He's actually a botanist like me, except I think he did field work, and then got promoted to auditor. He likes art, and he's really smart." For a brief moment, I feel like a teenager again, telling my parents about my crush. Then, like being hit by a truck, that feeling of inadequacy comes back full force, and I go quiet. I'm not good enough for him, I shouldn't be here. Before I can stop it, tears are falling down my face

"Cassie, honey, don't cry. Crying won't solve anything," Mom says firmly. She in Psychiatrist-Mode, and that means no big emotions. I sniff back the next set of tears, pushing my emotions down as she guides me through a breathing exercise. I wipe my eyes, sit up straight, and try to calm myself down. At the end of it, Mom says, "You need to start looking for a job."

"I know, Mom."

Dad leans in. "Do you need someone to look at your resume?"

I shake my head. "There's a database that keeps all our work data. Cuts down on paper."

They both nod in understanding. "Well, now you know what you need to do, you've got your orders," Mom says, half-joking. By the time we hang up, another half-hour has passed where they update me on their life on the moon. They show me their new kitten, Tyson, a gray Maine Coon that hasn't realized he's on the moon and keeps yowling to be let outside. Macy, their three-year-old German Shepherd, has tried to make friends with Tyson, but Tyson isn't big enough to romp with a forty-pound dog yet. I push down more emotions, and by the time we're waving goodbye, I'm exhausted. Still, I remind myself, I need to find Jillie and apologize for disappearing. They took the rest of the garbage out by themselves, cleaned the lab, and returned everything to the Outpost that needed returning.

The door closes behind me, and I instantly realize my mistake. My fucking keycard for the door is on the table.

Fuck. Fuck!

I kick my door, forgetting for a moment that it's steel, so when my toe makes contact I scream. The pain lances up my leg and I reel back and hold my foot. "Ow, ow, bad idea, son of a bitch--" Of course. Of course this happened to me. Was I supposed to expect differently?

God damn it.

Down the hall is a call station, a cutout in the wall with buttons for Emergency Services, the Fire Department, and Maintenance. I hit Maintenance and hold the phone to my ear as it rings. A sleepy-voiced man answers. "Hello, Sagan Building Maintenance."

"Hi, I'm in 407-C, I need my door unlocked. My name is Cassandra Rowland, Code 6702."

The man sighs, not annoyed but like he's standing after not having moved for very long. I hear him shuffling through papers and typing something into a keyboard. "Alright Ms. Rowland, my buddy Scott will be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you." I rest the phone on the receiver to hang up. I can't go find Jillie now, even though she's probably back at her apartment. Out of things to do, I look up and down the hallway, empty. I pat my pockets one more time, just to make sure I didn't stupidly just leave my keys in there. They're also empty, and I'm oddly comforted by it. At least I didn't rope someone else into my existential crisis.

For lack of anything to do, I walk back to my door and sit on the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. My boobs get in the way of resting my chin on my knees, so I let my head fall back against the door and stare at the ceiling.

God, I feel so stupid. After everything that's happened today, I had to lock myself out. I've never done this before, not in the three years I've been here. I lose my keys, I can't write reports, I can't even grow plants, which is my whole job. I'm not good at much of anything, am I?

I groan against the door of my apartment and thunk my head against it. Fuck.

After another few minutes of stewing in silence, I feel a presence at the end of the hallway, an ento if my ears are to be trusted. I don't look at them, I don't care who it is, I don't care how I look, I don't care if I get any weird glances.

They stop in front of me-- It's Kri. I'm almost relieved. His head blocks the harsh fluorescent of the hallway, casting his face in a soft halo of light. He says softly, "I hope I'm not intruding."

"As long as I can just sit here on the floor," I grumble into my arm. I'm not in the mood to be carried to three different places again. "How'd you know where I went?"

"I didn't," Kri says, still soft. "This was the third stop." He moves to sit next to me, wings extending to accommodate the floor. He wraps an easy arm over my shoulder, and I allow myself to scoot into his embrace. "I think…avoiding the problem is not advised."

I snap my head to face him. "I'm not avoiding--!" I stop myself with a sigh, cognizant of the space we're in. There's other people living here, probably sleeping. "I just wanted to clean the lab." I sniff and rest my head against the door again, and I think of the beach before a tidal wave. The water has receded from the shoreline, which means something ugly is coming. I've been pushing things down so much today, I don't have in it me to resist anymore. Kri rests his head on mine, his cheek on my hairline, and reaches for my hand like he did at the restaurant. I take it and interlace our fingers, the points of contact helping ground me.

Kri doesn't answer right away, and I feel him shift to look at me. He's examining my face in my periphery, until he lets out a sigh and returns to resting his head on mine. "I'm sorry. I thought having direction would help your mood."

I sigh heavily through my nose. "I appreciate everyone trying to help, but my mood wasn't going to change in a different setting. I wasn't suddenly going to be happy."

"I understand that now. Similar tactics were of use on me, and they worked well."

"When?"

He pauses, and I feel his jaw working against my temple. "After V'les died, I was inconsolable. Ari kept me distracted, which kept me from falling into despair. I'd hoped for the same results for you."

I sigh again. "I'm sorry. I know you were all trying to help, I just didn't want it."

"Can I offer you anything now?"

After a moment of indecision, I realize what Kri is doing. He's giving me the option, which is really all I wanted in the first place. An opposite hand comes up and brushes a curl of hair from my eyes, and he looks at me with an expression of deep concern. It's for me, he's worried about me. This level of gentleness is too much, and I feel my walls crumbling. I'd been holding them up all day, but now the day is over, and I'm tired. I sniff, feeling a tsunami on the horizon, and when tears start falling, I can't stop them. I'm hit full force by everything that's happened today, and I start to sob in earnest. Kri doesn't say anything, only holds me tighter.

"I lost my greenhouse," I gasp between breaths. "I lost my lab, my job."

His voice is low, sympathetic. "I know. I'm sorry." He wipes away my tears with the opposite hand, turning his torso into mine to reach, forming kind of a protective cocoon against the outside world. It's a futile effort, one he realizes after a few moments of my tears spilling over his hands and onto the floor. I'm being wrung out like a wet washcloth, my shuddering breaths only serving to egg me on more. Kri rubs my back, offering hums of appreciation, active listening noises, but doesn't force anything.

I find a break in to storm to apologize, "I'm sorry, Kri."

He brushes another curl from my face. "Why?"

"For being," I gesture vaguely to all of me. "This."

His expression turns confused. "What, human? You should be proud to be human, you're one of the hardiest species on Earth. The universe throws so much at you, and yet you keep standing up again."

"I'm so tired of being knocked down." First Stephen, now this. I'm pretty pathetic. "I don't want to get back up."

"But you must."

"I know," I whine in earnest, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand. "But it's so hard."

"That is what makes it amazing."

We sit there for a moment in silence that's occasionally punctuated by my disgusting sniffling. I disagree with Kri, I'm nothing amazing, just a botanist with rotten luck.

"May I offer a word of encouragement?"

I sniff again, feeling the tears beginning to lessen. I must be running out. "Go for it." His thumb rubs comfortably over my shoulder, providing encouragement.

He kisses my temple, and squeezes encouragingly. "It's going to be alright."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

A strange sensation-- I should be crying, but I'm tapped out. My nose burns and my eyelids twitch, but nothing comes after, except maybe a wayward sniffle. The sensation I feel is much like how I felt at the restaurant after Kri had grabbed my hand. The eye of the storm. The deeper waters underneath are finally still. "Thank you."

"Of course." He kisses my temple again, and I'm filled with warm affection.

We sit in the hallway like that, Kri comforting me with those small circles on my shoulder, not talking. We don't say anything, not when maintenance comes to unlock my door, or when we step inside and close the door behind me. I walk into the kitchen and pull two glasses from the cabinet, and I fill them with water from the sink.

I empty the glass, then I set it down. "Do you wanna stay here?" Kri looks apprehensive, standing in the space between living room and kitchen like he doesn't know what to do. If there's some ento or cultural protocol that goes with inviting someone else into your home, I'm too tired to remember it. "You're welcome to sleep over, but I'll warn you, I'm a blanket hog."

At that, Kri seems to relax a bit. His shoulders slump and he takes a long sip of his water before clearing his throat. "My body temperature is hotter than yours, so that shouldn't be an issue." His straightforward tone reminds me of his early days with us, and it makes me smile.

After I quickly change into pajamas and crawl into bed, I feel the last of my energy evaporate. My mattress is comfortable, my pillow feels like a cloud. I leave space enough for Kri to crawl in next to me, and he does so and faces me on his side. I move closer and tuck my head into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of rain. I feel myself relaxing as both arms curl around me and pull me in, and as I fall asleep, I feel safe and cared for.

Chapter 16 >>

#my writing #A Botanist's Guide #monster romance #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #exophillia #scifantasy #alien x human #alien boyfriend

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crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf · 5 months ago

Text

Disgrace Chapter 1 : Crosshair x F!OC

Summary:

After the rise of the Empire, neutral planet Ga'hah is occupied by Imperial forces. Governorship has been assigned to Nyem'Tok Ra, a Ga'haiian native who married into Coruscant money. Nyem'Tok's business is pleasure, owning and operating The Red Spire, a collection of brothels ranging in exclusivity. The highest club on the tower is The Red Crown, managed by Governor Ra's daughter, Tah'Nyem. The socialite delinquent shadows her fathers footsteps through the underworld, and now finds herself in a political maze with no guidance for what to expect. Thus, it comes as a surprise when her father insists she take a military escort back to Ga'hah suddenly one evening. Aboard the ship she meets an unlikely ally, a "defective" clone Commander on light duty after a long stint at sea. These two castaways feel a kinship, as if their worlds are changing too fast to leave a place for them. Will they be able to survive the shift, or be crushed by the traps that seem to be set for them both.

Warnings: MC pushes boundaries, rough sexual tension. Some nasty threats made at MC. Sex work is legal/respected. MC swears a lot but its all in universe slang so technically she doesn't.

As for Tah'Nyem, her family control's the red light district on Coruscant. She's gonna have some social issues when it comes to boundaries and objectification. Sex positive af though, and don't insult sex workers around her that's her friends and family and she will fight you.

Word Count: 6k+

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua.

Read On Ao3 - Next Chapter >

Music Inspo- Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

Listen on Spotify - Listen on Youtube

It's Illustrated

The first nine chapters of this fic are written (as of today, I'm just illustrating as I release...hopefully weekly? No promises. There's a planned 16 chaptahs.)

Droplets patter across the roof of the palanquin as the shadows on the emergency port darted back and forth through the icy rain making their preparations. I catch the look of boredom in my reflection as a small regime of Troopers exited the transport and began receiving instructions from someone obscured from view by the artificial downpour and darkness. A figure crosses my window and I’m startled from my idle observing. It’s father. He presses his thumb to the window frame and the barrier blinks out of existence.

“Now, li’ha. These nice gentlemen will be escorting you back home, Don’t fuss, Do as you’re told.”

I pursed my lips at the condescending tone in his voice.

“Are you not coming? What's going on Vah'hadarr?”

The secret tunnels, the emergency exit, and now Empire Troopers escorting me separately from my parents. One didn’t need The Force to feel something was off here.

“Vah’ha!”

The pleading in my voice was heavy, but my father simply cast a pitying look in my direction before disappearing out of view once again. My mother quickly filled the space in his stead and she leaned in to whisper to me hurriedly.

“We will be right behind you. Listen to the soldiers, and Tah’nyem,”

She reached in and grabbed my chin, turning me to meet her eyes.

“Be. Have.”

I couldn’t help but slip into a sly smile.

“Who me? What on Ga’hah could I do?”

I was feigning ignorance. I had a tendency to make my own fun in stretches of dire boredom... This wasn’t the first talking to she felt the need to impart on me.

“It’s different when you use to toy with the occasional padawan Tahny… but your father’s friends are dangerous men. Be careful who you rile up.”

It is quite unfortunate, but she’s right.

“I’ll behave.”

I finally acquiesced and she released my face leaving me to fall back against the plush seat. She slipped off to find my father and I closed the window to lean against it once more.

However…

How much trouble can I really get up too in a tiny can full of little soldiers?

A wicked grin bloomed across my face and my eyes flicked back to the transport. A straggler was exiting the ship and just now joining the six other men.

A strong gust of wind parted the curtain of rain giving me a clearer view of the newcomer. His armor was black, the helmet coming to a sharper silhouette. The downpour closed in again, obscuring him into black smudged profile standing lean and tall over the other Troopers.

Must not be a clone…

There’ve been whispers of a new defense bill for soldiers to be conscripted rather than cloned now that the war was over… I didn't think they had voted on that yet.

Who knows what was happening with the clones. With the destruction of Kamino so recent, you would assume Coruscant would be crawling with them. They must be relocating them to other, less inhabited worlds or… something. Either way, the holonet was silent on the matter. Not many showed much care or concern for the spontaneous army in our midst.

There was a small vibration through the seat and the palanquin began its descent to the dock, the rhythmic patter from the roof fading to nothing as it passed under the nose of the ship. I could see my father shaking hands with someone and clapping them on the back before disappearing out of view again. The Troopers were just outside now and my confidence was fading as the questions came rushing back.

Something is very, very wrong… I’ve never even seen a Trooper up close till now…

The side panel slid open with a soft hiss and the port master leaned in offering me his hand. I carefully gathered my hem and let him balance me as I stepped onto the slippery steel of the dock. The man I couldn’t make out before, who seemed to be in charge, stepped forward and gave me a formal salute.

He was short, and paunchy, with a dark handlebar of a mustache and gray patches at the temple. His skin was ruddy from too much sun and he had a sour smile that didn't reach his eyes, which, were unfortunately now aimed at me.

“Tah’nyem Ra, it will be a pleasure to escort you back to Ga’hah. My name is Lieutenant Hervos. Please,”

He crooked his elbow and turned to guide me onto the ship. I squeezed the harbor master’s hand and released it, transferring to the offered arm of the Lieutenant. He took the lead and dragged me along to the rampway, lending some freedom to glance at the soldiers trailing behind us.

The tall man was now in front of the other six troopers and I determined he was probably in charge of the squad. My eyes flicked up to the visor, shining, green and opaque to me. The hair rose on the back of my neck, betraying the intensity of the gaze behind the iridescent panel. It felt like a target had been painted on my back and I stood a little straighter to battle the tingling that had started in my spine.

Isn't he… Intimidating.

Once again, I’m left wondering why I warranted such a vanguard.

Father was a businessman turned politician, but other than that he was a nobody from a backwater world with just enough civilization to compete in the now united Empire. Our family had mostly lived and operated on Coruscant before the beginning of the war, now that Ga'hah was part of the Empire, they wanted someone loyal in control of the planet. So, now I find myself the daughter of a governor… Wouldn't explain the present circumstances…

Why guard me and not my father?

Our procession halted and the doors shut behind the assembled bodies with a mechanical whine. White and gray painted metal and a harsh white light framed the bland, utilitarian interior. It seemed like we were in the main holding area of the vessel, with a circular navigation module at the center of the space, displaying halomaps of the sectors we'd travel through, and some simple strapped benches lining the walls.

The Lieutenant released my arm and stepped forward to address us as a whole.

“It will be nearly six rotations till we reach Ga’hah. We’ll be jumping to hyperspace immediately once we confirm our clearance. Please lead our guest to her… accommodations.”

He seemed to chew on the last word as if he didn’t want to let it free of his lips and I could feel my eyebrows raise a little despite my attempts to keep my face neutral as he spoke.

“A pleasure,” he had said.

It was obvious once he was done with appearances that this was the last assignment he could care for and I squirmed at having to spend so much time locked in with the unpleasant man.

Ga’hah was a small planet whose system was just inside the outer rim. The teal, polar oceans and temperate climate of its locked dark side made it a popular stop to refuel, resulting in a robust tourist industry over the centuries.

Though the planet had been neutral, as soon as the war was over the Empire occupied the Western mining stations and rail line. Apparently not much has changed, the Southwest having been desolate for a while now, the occupation made the area feel alive. Not like I would know, I’ve been off-world since I started secondary school. I hated to admit it, but it would be nice to see home.

Hervos turned on his heel and walked through a door disappearing with the soft shush of it closing behind him.

Now then…

I rolled my head on my neck and stretched my arms above my head, letting out a lascivious groan. Sitting in the palanquin for so long had left me stiff. The thin shift of my traditional garb slid upward exposing my lower back and stomach, and I turned my head to look at the assembled soldiers.

“Which of you nice, strong, men will help me to my room?”

I slowly lowered my hands, trailing them over my own skin as I turned to face them properly, slipping into the character I've played almost every night.

“I should probably…change? Into something more… comfortable?”

The group shifted here and there, obviously not knowing what to do and subtly not knowing where to look, the fine cloth of Ga’hah clung to the body leaving little to the imagination. It was too easy, and I was starting to feel disappointed in the Empire’s finest.

An exasperated sigh broke the silence.

“This way.”

The voice was soft, a steady, rasping slither and my eyes snapped sharply to look at the soldier in black armor. It wasn’t what I was expecting out of him, but the sound washed through me like gray silk, cold, caressing. I stifled a shiver. It was an alien feeling and my mask faltered a moment.

Interesting…

He had stepped forward to lead me and once he seemed satisfied that I would follow, turned wordlessly to the rear of the transport forcing me to fall in step behind him.

I eyed the slender man as he led me down a boring corridor that looked like the rest of the boring corridors. Nice shoulders, slim waist, even, confident gate. My gaze was lingering and I shook myself.

Interesting indeed…

“You got a name, tough guy?”

The pointed mask didn’t reply. I eyed the dark armor now that I was up close and unobscured by torrential rain. Some sort of sensor jiggled from the helmet, not uncommon. It would look silly if the piece didn't scream of deadly purpose. Other than that it was mostly unique do to it's color and sleeker waistline.

I picked up my pace to walk abreast, but my shorter stature struggled to keep up with the long strides that seemed to prefer staying ahead of me.

“C’mon now, I need to call you something. How am I supposed to ask for you specifically?”

I kept my voice casual, thinking the tookesque archetype wasn’t going to win me any points with this one. Jogging forward a little I turned to walk backwards forcing him to slow. I could finally see the front of the armor’s plates and the final piece of the puzzle; a subtle series of dents and wear against the right pauldron and chestplate.

Sniper. For sure.

“CT-9904.”

“CT-9904?”

He didn’t speak again.

“That’s not really a name.”

“No. It’s not.”

He stopped in front of a door and hit the panel just a little too forcefully.

I stepped inside and my possessions were tossed unceremoniously on the floor next to me. The Trooper filled the doorway, not showing any signs of leaving.

“You planning on watching, C.T.9.9.0.4?”

I hit each syllable pointedly as I dropped the loose neck of my shawl from my shoulders to hang from where I held it over my chest.

He straightened abruptly and hit the panel, separating us with a clank of metal. I pouted exaggeratedly at the closed door and then giggled softly to myself.

Gotcha tough guy.

I let the shawl fall the rest of the way to the floor and reached for the bag holding my street wear. Pulling out my little comlink, I strapped it to my wrist and dialed Kahtzi's channel.

There's no way she's back by now…

It was the begining of the evening for the club world, and she was usually working till dawn. As expected the receiver beeped and dropped me into an away message prompting me for a recording. To bad, I was told not to make any calls once I left the planet.

“Kahtzi, I've been whisked away very rudely and won't be able to call you again till I get to Ga'hah. Vah'hadarr is arranging for my absence at The Crown… Sorry I won't be able to go to The Galleria with you… talk to you in a few days.- oh! There's someone here. Someone, interesting,”

I giggled a little, thinking of her getting the recording and having to sit in anticipation while I traveled,

“Pray for him, Goodnight li’nen,”

Ending the recording with a sigh I reached for my clothes. The room was freezing and my bare skin ached in the cold. The pants and sweater in the more conservative Coruscant style was welcomed, and I sighed as the heavy fabric began to trap my heat to me.

I zipped up the vest and looked at myself in the tall mirror on the wall. The clothes were stuffy but did their job in making me less obtrusive. The bright lights made the white layer of my hair too harsh and for a moment I wished it was black throughout. I reached up and removed the golden adornment dangling from my left ear finishing the look.

Kicking the duffle bag under the bunk I cast my eyes about the barren and depressing crevice I would be sleeping in.

Three whole days, Be’llahl save me.

I thought about my new friend in black and smirked. Maybe the benevolent old one already had. He’ll be tough to crack, but then again, that’s the only thing that made it worth it. Why play with someone if they can’t make it fun for me, right?

The tickle in my spine was back, that might… complicate things.

Only if you let it.

The smell of hot caf drifted to me, breaking the cold and unfamiliar with a burst of warmth and comfort.

I wonder if the galley is close by…

They might not like me wandering by myself but I don’t need an escort to grab a cup of warm, bitter nectar. Well… as long as a certain someone isn’t just hanging around the door.

I looked at the solid metal and cursed the design of military vehicles. No way of telling if any one was out there.

I leaned on the door and closed my eyes, listening. Nothing but the electric thrum of the ship’s systems.

If it’s clear, it’s clear.

If it’s not and he’s there, well… we’ll just play another round won’t we?

The thought elated through me as I pressed the key and the door slid open ungracefully, the loud clank of metal making me suspicious that the room choice was deliberate. Casting my eyes to either side of the hallway… it seemed I was alone.

Left and right look the same… I came from that way but which way is the galley…

Not caring for dignity, I sniffed the air, trying to place the smell’s origin.

Ah hah! Right!

The walls were cold as I slid my fingertips over the grated panels, feeling the texture as I made my way along. It wasn’t far till I came to a brightly lit room smelling strongly of caf.

There it is.

I turned into the room and eyed the gathering of men sitting at the crowded table spanning the middle of the room. They stopped talking as I glanced over them.

Definitely not supposed to be here…

“I’d like some of that caf, if you will.”

There was an open stool at the far end of the table and I perched myself delicately upon it.

They were slow to react, but two of the soldiers suddenly stood and headed to the caf dispenser.

Most of the men had removed their helmets and I couldn’t help but stare at their identical features. It was unsettling me more than I thought it would as I scanned each of them. Different haircuts. Different tattoos. Different Scars. Same face. There was something wrong about it, but I’m stuck deciding if it’s the clone aspect or if it had to do with the dull sheen that flickered in their eyes like they weren’t really in there looking out.

Groups of troopers on leave used to be common in the red district until about a year ago, but they rarely made it to the top of The Spire where I was usually stationed. A clone at The Red Crown was practically unheard of. Not that a few hadn't been invited as guests by high priority clients, but I always seemed to be out when it happened.

I finally turned to look directly in front of me.

By the counter, separating himself from the other troopers, CT-9904 leaned against the corner pouring himself a caf and pointedly blocking the two troopers who went to retrieve me a cup. His helmet was also missing and I was surprised at the web of scar tissue branching over his right ear. It looked fresh.

His eyes met mine and I raised a brow at him. He had a circle tattooed around one of his eyes, and a bit more I couldn’t make out from over here, but… lines maybe?

Tough guy indeed. Is he going to let them do their job?

He barked something at them that sounded rude then spoke up so I could hear him.

“Get it yourself, princess.”

His tone was mocking, and it insulted me… but to let him know would lose me the round.

Good to see he knows the rules.

I smiled and tilted my head.

“I’ll give you a tip if you get it for me, tough guy.”

He downed the rest of his cup and placed a toothpick in his mouth, never breaking eye contact, before pushing himself off the wall. Strutting from the room he threw a last glaring smirk of challenge in my direction before exiting the galley and leaving me alone with the squad.

My gaze lingered on the door, brow raised at the sass that was just on display.

…

“Well, can any of you help a girl out?”

I glanced at the gathered men and they looked back at me uncomfortably. The six soldiers seemed rather reserved, eager to serve… but something was keeping them from bending to my request.

“Uh… Commander Crosshair ordered us not to… uh…ma’am.”

I let out an exasperated huff.

Commander Crosshair, huh.

The tattoo registered clearer now, plus with the context of the rifle wear on his armor…

A little on the nose don’t you think? We'll, if that’s how you’re gonna play…

“‘Princess,’”

I muttered, scoffingly as I got up and paced to the caf dispenser, grabbing a cup from the side.

“You're lucky he didn't call you BLOB,”

The nearest clone chuckled, hearing my disdain.

“That's just charming, a friendly bunch aren't you?”

I pressed the button on the machine filling the cup with a dark, robust smelling, refreshment.

Finally

My shoulders relaxed as I put the cup to my lips, drawing a mouthful of hot liquid …and immediately spat it out. There was a guffaw from the table.

Oh that is awful. Enough playing, we’re finding the executive pot.

Not bothering to excuse myself, I wandered back into the hall ignoring the snickering aimed in my direction.

Kriff em. Where’s the Lieutenant get his caf from?

I pause in the hallway, realizing I was avoiding the itching in my brain by chasing a small comfort. Think. There's always a reason, and I need to know why I'm here.

I started walking again, at a slower pace and listened. So far only my own footsteps… and then, voices.

I crept to the opened arch where Hevos stood with another man positioned before a large consol.

“We have the coordinates and once our clearance is registered we’ll be on our way out of orbit.”

It sounded like the usual preparations.

“Any signs we may have pursuers?”

I stopped breathing and focused on the Lieutenant’s back. There’s pursuers now?

The varp did I do?

A hand closed firmly around my arm, and yanked me back down the hall.

“Time to go back to your room, princess.”

The raspy voice was engraing itself in my brain, growing more familiar as he dragged me away from the conversation I desperately wanted to overhear.

“You know that’s a far cry from my actual title, I’m actually- HEY”

I was once again dumped into the sad little cubby, the door clunking shut behind me in what was quickly becoming our usual goodbye.

My mood was boiling over and I kicked the panel in the beginning of a tantrum.

You know what? You're not in charge here.

I hit the button on my door… and nothing happened. I hit it a few more times…locked in. A frustrated cry escaped me and I slammed my fists into the metal repeatedly.

He can’t DO that!

But my arms quickly tire, and I slump to the floor with my back to the door. Less than an hour and I’ve already been locked into my quarters. Terrific.

I crawled into the bunk and closed my eyes. I really hope everything is exactly what I'm being told…

One thing’s for sure…

I reached under the bunk and searched the bag with my fingertips looking for the cold, small chunk of metal. Finally finding it and withdrawing the recording device into the light.

I don't trust any of this.

~~~

A rhythmic clanging rang through my half woken thoughts and my eyes fluttered open, refocusing on the dull room of the military ship. Someone was knocking.

“Come in?”

The door slid open revealing Lieutenant Hevos, his face twisted in an expression of false hospitality.

“Care for supper, Tah’nyem Ra?”

“Oh! Yes… yes, of course. Give me a moment.”

The door shut again and I walked to the mini fresher tucked into the corner to splash some water on my face and straighten my ruffled hair. Scratching at the short black strands on the back of my neck I smoothed the uneven, asymetrical bob till it once again lay flat. My eyes reflected the stress of sudden departure and fitful napping and I pinched my cheeks to bring out some color.

Back in front of the door I shake myself gently, organizing my thoughts, preparing for the unpleasant pleasantries ahead. I was ready, and hit the button letting me into the hall.

Lieutenant Hevos doesn’t turn to look at me, and simply offers his arm like he had at the loading dock. I took it, and he led me slightly further than I managed to venture earlier through the compact vessel. He steered me into a small but formal dining room fitted with slightly more adornments than the rest of the ship.

“It’s good to know they let you have some nice things, Lieutenant.”

“They made an extra effort on your account.”

He dropped his arm and my hand along with it, making his way to the chair at the far end of the table.

“They shouldn’t have.”

They really, really shouldn’t have.

I eyed the sad plant at the center of the table and took a seat opposite the Lieutenant. I resented the contempt radiating out of his cold, polite smile and I flashed a venom laced grin back.

What a wonderful companion for meal times.

My thoughts drifted to the tall Commander stored somewhere on the ship. Somewhere that was else. He would surely make for a more entertaining company…

I picked at a scratch on the table top. Must have been pouting like a child, because when I looked back up at Hevos his hateful expression was colored with a layer of puzzlement. He regained his composure and I reorganized my features to reflect the coldness the situation called for, my mother’s words ringing in my head:

“Your fathers friends are dangerous men.”

“Shall we?”

He didn’t wait for a response, pressing a com signaling for our food to be brought.

“You shook hands with Vah’hadarr at the dock. Do you know each other?”

He stiffened. Of course, asking someone if they're friendly with my father was a rather loaded question, but his sudden discomfort spoke volumes.

“I’m assigned to the governor’s enforcement battalion, that is all,”

How far in father's pockets are you Lieutenant?

It's true a few of these small ships were for father's uses, but the soldiers still answered to the Emperor. We weren't much involved on who was assigned where, a little money could go a long way in securing loyalty.

The trays arrived, smoking with a nice cut of meat and roasted greens, the red juices pooling on the plate. I picked up my utensil and poked at the food. Nothing in the galley looked this fresh and I wondered if this was another benevolent “accommodation”.

“Do you ever eat with your men, Lieutenant?”

I once again lost interest in being careful and political and took the lead in starting the conversation with something that might lead to some stimulation.

Sitting at this table with this man is going to bore me. to. death.

He chuckled without mirth, and fixed me with those hateful eyes.

“Those aren’t men.”

He said it without a blink or a tremor. He meant it.

“They may look like men,” He continued, “but they’re just tools for the empire. Outdated tools at that.”

His tone had taken on a shade of self pity, as if he felt he was above serving with clones.

“They seem to be unique individuals, despite appearances…”

I thought about the variety in body language, the haircuts, the tattoos…a specific tattoo.

Focus.

He scoffed, and ungracefully stuffed a cut of meat into his gullet.

“They’re more than expendable, and are being phased out as we speak, you should be wary of seeing them as people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, so I pressed on.

“What about the Commander? He seems… different.”

The thin face floated back into focus. It was similar to the others, but the elongated features gave him a more unique look. No denying he was a clone though.

“That one's more like a monster.”

He shoved another forkful of meat into his jowls and I eyed a trail of blood dripping down his chin in disgust.

“Don’t keep me in the dark Lieutenant, Elaborate.”

The Lieutenant set his utensil down with a harsh clatter and fixed his eyes on me with all seriousness.

“That clone was bred to be vicious, elite, Black Ops, His most recent mission he wiped out the rest of his special unit, these clones feel nothing and they shoot at what they're told, even their own comrades, don't trust them… they're not people, Miss Ra, remember that,”

I chewed as I processed this.

Their own comrades? Other clones it seems… Jedi too maybe?

The betrayal of the Jedi had been a rather hot topic on Coruscant over the past year. I was starting to believe the rumors that they were being wiped out…

Something else bothered me about the divulged information, something that probably wasn't supposed to slip.

“Lieutenant… Why is a Black Ops sniper included in my escort to Ga’hah?”

Only a flicker of the grim composer before he covered,

“He's being transferred to his new assignment, this just kills two birds with one stone,”

Maybe I'm overthinking all of this…

He finished his meal and stood.

“Tah’nyem Ra.”

A quick nod and he left me alone in the dining room. For someone under “Black Ops” guard they sure have no interest in actually being around me. Then again, where the kark could I really get off to.

After eating what I could off my plate I stood up to look around the pitifully decorated room. I fingered the bug in my pocket and weighed whether this might be a good place for it.

No… doesn't look like it gets used much…

The little device had been left in the manager's office of The Crown. Apparently one of the Ja’hans had a thing for listening to his favorite girl… uh… meeting with other clients.

Can’t have that now…

I was thinking idle thoughts about my father's business and the clientele in question while determining what to do with the recorder.

The bug was primitive, just an on/ playback switch, timer, and a com jack. No remote access. Nice and discreet, but that does mean wherever I put it I’ll need to be able to get it back. I had checked briefly, but the device should record for 72 hours before looping over itself…

I’ll need to retrieve it before then.

There were two exits to the room and I determined if I should head into the hall or through the door the food trays had been brought in from. I thought back to the quick walk with the Lieutenant, taking inventory of the doors between here and mine. At least one should be another quarter room, leaving two others to be anything. I shifted my attention to the service door and knew it was where I was headed. I wanted to know what’s back there.

I pushed the panel and thankfully it opened. I wouldn’t be able to hack my way in, so I’m really staking on most doors just being…unlocked.

Good plan. Wander through a military ship on a prayer they just leave things unlocked. Very plausible. No notes.

I stopped chidding myself and slipped into the narrower service hall. It was darker, the walls less presentable with visible tubes and wires and blinking, lighted panels. The air was warmer here, smelling of dust and hot plastics.

This is promising.

Looking over the guts of the ship I tried to determine if left or right down the hall would yield better results for a room the Lieutenant might let loose in.

Et tu, beck tu, Nah-mehn-da!

I playfully pointed my finger at the tubes, selecting the thickest of them and turning to follow it down the left hall.

The passage was disappointingly short and it wasn’t long till I was spit back into the main hall. Orienting myself, I figured I was just beyond the galley and turned to retrace my steps back to the bridge.

The corridor was dark, the dimmed lights the only hint that it was night. I found the door I was looking for and paused…

Hope you’re empty…

I hit the panel next to the door and it smoothly slid open.

The bridge was vacant as I had hoped, the hypnotizing array of hyperspace bathing the room in flashing light.

I judged the three consoles in the room.

The one in the middle should do…

Hopefully it'll be the one the Lieutenant would stand closest to. I crouched and wedged the little recorder under the lip of the keyboard. Looking at my watch, I set the timer to start recording six hours from now.

I stood up, and once again turned to the vastness of space whipping past me at unfathomable speeds. The job was done so I let myself sink into the moment, marveling at how many stars and planets there really were out there.

I jumped a little at the sound of the door sliding open and straightened from where I was leaning against the consol. I turned around, trying to keep my face innocent.

It was Crosshair, and the surprise at finding someone here only colored his expression a moment before being reeled in.

“Come to look at the stars, tough guy?”

He flicked the toothpick between his lips from side to side, as if making a decision, and turned to leave.

A pained sound escaped me before I even really knew I made it…

Uh…

It caused him pause though, and he turned back.

“I’m sorry. You should stay…”

“I was hoping to be… alone.”

“I’ll be quiet”

I crooked my fingers into the symbol of promise.

“By Be’llahl.”

He hesitated but seemed satisfied by that. Silently he strode to the left console and sat propping his boots next to the keys and switches. I leaned against my console of choice again and turned back to the infinite stars, my eyes occasionally wandering to the shadow of his head, the angry patch of melted skin over his ear.

A thousand ideas on how to annoy the man flitted through me, but I had made a promise and squashed the impulse to play around.

Time and place… besides, I swore by Be’llahl…

I wasn’t really sure why it mattered, possibly had to do with how tired he looked. It was one thing to mess with entitled little rich boys on Coruscant, but the man sitting across the room was a hardened soldier. He could have a time out.

“That one's a monster…”

Would he be ordered to shoot for no reason?

I glanced at the tired silhouette again, it didn't seem like he wore the fatigue in a carefree kind of way. They must feel… surely.

We stayed there, silently, for nearly an hour before he stood and stretched, gazing at me a moment…

“C’mon. I should escort you back to your quarters.”

Silently, I got up and followed him out, only speaking once we had left the threshold of the bridge. Time out over.

“Do you come here often?”

I matched his pace as we set down the hall he himself had dragged me down hours before.

“What happened to being quiet?”

“We left.”

I swear he rolled his eyes, but either way, he dodged the question. I dropped it, allowing him a few more moments of peace before we arrived at my stateroom.

Coming astride my door he started to turn as if to leave me on my own but I caught his arm pulling him back.

I leaned against the wall and pulled him to me, taking the docile position of being trapped looking up at him.

“You should stay here too…”

I placed his hands on my hips and though he didn’t recoil it did seem like a grimace passed over him a moment and I raised my brow in question.

“You shouldn’t get involved with soldiers, princess.”

He slipped his hands from my waist.

“And leave the Regs out of it. They’re risking a court martial just looking at you.”

Something tells me they wouldn't be as… fun.

A very real ache was growing in me, a little follow through couldn't hurt… just this once.

“Let me change your mind, how can I make you stay?”

I hooked my fingers into the utility belt at his hips, not letting him get away yet. My voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone.

“How long, do you think, till you break a rule or two?”

His voice came out in a low growl.

“It isn’t the rules keeping me from giving you what you’re asking for.”

He gripped my shoulders and pushed me harder into the metal behind me, causing an involuntary flutter through my groin as he bent to look me in the eyes.

“You, princess, have no idea what you’ve stepped into here,”

“I think I can take you, tough guy.”

I leaned forward, brushing a cheek against his ear.

“What do you have to lose?”

The question was full of promise,

Kriff it, I know it's been hours but I want him.

…

“I don't know anymore,”

The whisper was soft, and fell from him as if he had accidentally let it go.

He tried to push off but I held tight and he took hold of me again, pushing the panel on the wall opening the door to my quarters with a clank. I was thrown in, more forcefully than before, my body splaying in a disgraceful position on the bunk. I left myself disheveled and looked up as he took a step into the room.

Our eyes met and I held him there, challenging him to give in and take things further.

We were still a moment, tensed, and in stalemate between my resolve and his.

“A-hem.”

Crosshair spun as the Lieutenant cleared his throat in the doorway.

“I hope I’m not…interrupting…”

“I was just putting our guest back in her crate,”

He said it smoothly, nothing to hint at the mix of emotions that had been there before.

“Good, Wouldn’t want you caught up in anything…regrettable.”

The taller man straightened and left the room, bumping the shoulder of the Lieutenant as he passed.

Hervos then fixed his eyes on me, hungrily looking over my legs still sprawled across the bunk. I crossed my knees and sat up to make the show less inviting and get him on his way. His eyes flicked back up to my face.

“They told me about you, Your…reputation… in the briefing for this transport,”

I stiffened. What do they know? It wasn’t all that bad honestly, but I had started a few things that got a little…out of control.

“Don’t distract my soldiers, or I’ll put you in your place myself, Which, I can assure you, will be far more enjoyable than what a squad of troopers might have in store for you,”

His eyes flicked down my body once more and he smiled the first genuine grin since I had arrived… I stifled a shiver.

Instead, he received a rude gesture and I spit in his direction defiantly.

“They seem far more charitable than you, Lieutenant.”

His face twisted into the more familiar anger and he forcefully pressed the panel on the wall.

The door clanked shut as he left me to myself and I scrambled off the bunk, slamming the inner lock on the door panel.

I stood still, staring at the closed door and slowed my breathing. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.

Calmer, I went to the refresher and started the water in the narrow stall.

Stepping into the warm stream the rest of the tension left my body and I could let my mind drift to more pleasant things.

I pursed my lips remembering what was interrupted.

How close was he really… toe on the line?

I had the feeling his nerves were stronger than the earlier episode might suggest…

Not used to being turned down I slipped the feeling on like a cloak, noting its weight and deciding how to think about it.

I don’t like it.

I don’t usually drive things so far either; Always to an edge but never over it… Maintain the mystique. Only ever tempted if there was that…

Electricity?

I shivered as a certain intense gaze drifted through my thoughts again.

No, it was odd for me to want to throw the match like that… few times it's happened before…

They never resisted.

I turned the water off and dripped dry a moment before stepping out into the cold.

Wrapping a warm shawl about myself I crawled onto the bunk, hugging my knees to my chest, letting my heavy lids fall shut.

“You have no idea what you’ve stepped into…”

How so? I’ll have to rip that out of him.

I grinned to myself at that, thinking of the fire in those steely, intense eyes.

Oh yes…

I stretched out slidding my hands down the skin of my torso, down my thighs, enjoying the sparks racing from my trailing fingertips to my brain. Electric.

… I’m gonna kriffing tear you apart.

#star wars fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #crosshair x f!oc #sw oc: Tah'nyem Ra #Imperial Crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #oc sunday #Spotify #two switches rotating around each other like a gyroscope #Slow burn but actually they're fucking the whole time #smut fics #“Dumb Pimp Girlfriend” Is like the most derogatory way to refer to Tahny but like the phrase got stuck in my head so deal with it lol #She's aggressive. Shes stubborn. shes bratty. she sucks #She's Crosshair's dumb pimp girlfriend and I love her #Quote from Kahtzi Zho

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checkingoutforheroes · 2 years ago

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B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL

Part 4.

Avengers x fem!reader

Words: 1333

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?

Part 3

Main Masterlist

“There, that’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. By the bridge, it’s them. Got three with the cradle. I can take out the driver.” Clint was ready to shoot the truck but Steve disagree. “Negative. The truck crash, the gem could level the city. We need to draw out Ultron.” He jumps on the truck to get its attention.

Well, he did get its attention and it pissed. “No, no, no. Leave me alone!” Ultron shoot the truck door almost hit Steve. “Well, he is really unhappy! I’m trying to keep it that way!” Steve shouted while hanging on the broken door.

“You’re not a match for him, Cap.” Clint stated. “Thanks Barton.” Steve muttered.

Natasha sees the situation from their jet. “He needs help.” “I guess you wanna unpack your birthday present.” Clint told her to go behind the jet and wait for his queue. She pressed the button for the metal box and saw an electric Harley Davidson and mutter to herself. “That’s a birthday present.” She hops on the bike and waiting for Clint’s to open the bay. “We got a window. In 3,2, give him hell.”

The fights between them and the robots can take too much time and damaged. Natasha make other plans to their original plan of taking the cradle safely because it’s not working out so safe. “This isn’t going nowhere. Clint, can you draw the guards out?”

Clint shooting at Ulron in front of Steve trying to lure the minions out. “Let’s find out.” Three of the guard out and the truck is empty.

“Cap, keep him occupied. I’m going in!” Natasha drop her bike and jump into the truck.

Steve let out an exhausting breath. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Meanwhile at the tower, you walk on Maria and Fury’s discussion. “How’s everything? Did they get him?” Maria and Fury acknowledge your present and she pull a chair for you. “You should be on bed.” You just sat slowly on it. “Nah, I’ve been worse. This is nothing.”

Maria rolling her eyes at you. “You’ve been dead for 6 minutes until Tony change your device. What are worse than that?” You don’t have answer for that and Fury coming at you too. “And when are you planning on telling us? Next Christmas?” “I don’t even ask for it and I like to keep it shut. It’s not something to be proud of.” He huffs, “Once this is over, you’re going to see a doctor.” “Why everybody keeps telling me to find a doctor? I’ve been fine all this time. I’m here not to be taking care of. I’m here because the world is at stake and I’m here to help. Doing something, at least.”

“Proof that. Until then, you’re off the mission. Agent Hill, follow me to pick up our old stuff back.” Fury order. “Can I tag along?” Maria turns to you. “We’ll be back. Why don’t you help us monitoring them for us? Use this for contact and maybe help Stark and Banner. But please, for the love of God, don’t ever piss him off.” She walks out of the room, following Fury.

Bruce notice you’re walking towards them. “How’s your feeling?” “Just another day at the office. Still getting the hang of it.”

Tony and Bruce watched and heard some of your conversation earlier. “Gotta admit. I adore your spirit.” Tony expressed. “I never thank you, to both of you yet. Thank you, for saving my life.” Bruce smiling softly and nod. “You’re welcome.”

“Are you kidding? We’re a team. We’re the Avengers. Once you step a foot in this building, you’re the Avengers. We help each other. Well, maybe some of us being a pain in ass but yeah, you’re one of us now. Welcome to the club kid.” Tony reasoned it for you and your eyes lit up on them. “Really? You mean that? Am I, an Avengers?” Tony looking at Bruce while he continues working on his computer. “Bruce. Back me up here.” “I don’t see why not. You’re young and we’re all above 30. We can use a fresh blood.” “Legacy. Thanks Shrek.” Tony responded and you let out a chuckle “I guess you’re the one being the pain in ass.” “Everyone asses” Bruce nod down and we’ll continue our work.

While trying to crack the code for that cradle, Natasha feels the truck lifting. “The package just air borne. I have a clean shot.” Clint tell them on the comm. “Negative. I am still in the truck.” she needs to think fast.

“What the hell did you...” Natasha cut his sentences while cutting the rope that tied to the cradle. “Just be ready. I’m sending the package to you.”

Clint ready on his position. “How do you want me to take it?”

“Uhhh… You might wish you didn’t ask that.”

Wanda fly in the train to help Steve and front the Ultron. “Please. You don’t have to do that.” Somehow, Ultron is kinda sound scared and he fly out the train. “Surveillance in our path. Can you stop this train?” Steve ordered and both of them do their best to stop the train and people around it.

Once the cradle touches the Quinn jet floor, Ultron manage to snatch Natasha’s leg and take her with him. “Nat!” Clint saw the incident but he can’t do anything to help her while piloting the jet. “Cap, did you see Nat?”

“If you have the cradle, take it to Stark!” Steve ordered.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?!” Asking again for confirmation.

“Go!” Steve shout.

Wanda telling Steve about what Ultron’s plan. “I read him. Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. We have to move fast.”

He disappointed and fly that jet back to the tower and leave his friend behind. “Damn it!” He contact the tower when he’s close for them to prepare and inform about their current situation. “Quinn jet to tower. Quinn jet to tower.” You hear his voice and press a button to accept his call. “Quinn jet, this is Y/N speaking from the tower. You’re affirm to report.” Clint told you that he’s 15 minutes away to arrive and Natasha is missing in action. “Oh God.” You pull down the headset and running to find Tony and Bruce. “They’ve got Nat. She’s m.i.a.” Bruce takes his glasses off. “You have her tracker right?” Tony rush to his computer “I’ll find her.”

You and Banner helps Clint unload the cradle and bring it into the lab and Tony walks in. Disappointment shows on his face and Bruce ask before I do. “Did you find her?” He just walks straight toward the cradle. “Haven’t heard but I’m sure she’s alive or Ultron would rub us in the face.” Seriously? Did he truly find her at all? You want to ask him that but Clint change the topic. “This seal tight.” He stands next to you.

Tony turn around to look at both of you and Clint, ignoring Bruce. “Is there any chance she might leave a massage outside the internet? Old school spy stuff perhaps.”

“You worry about the cradle.”

“We’ll find her.” Both you and Clint walks out that lab.

Clint handle the modern tech frequency while you handle the old one. “You okay with that? Wanna switch up?” You tuning on the frequency “I’m good. I can’t be near that high tech frequency anyway. That’s why I still have my Walkman and not Bluetooth headset. You know, because my…” You pointing at your left chest and he nodding. “Right. I hope she led us somewhere.” You smile at him. “She’s Natasha. She’ll make plan.”

It is true. Natasha did figure something out. While you tuning the frequency, you hear a static note. Tuning it again to have a clear shot. Natasha sending you her location by Morse code. You tell Clint to decode it on the screen. “You’re right. She did have plan.”

#The Avengers #natasha romanoff #Steve Rogers #clint barton #tony stark #bruce banner #thor #maria hill #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x steve rogers #mcu incorrect quotes #avengers incorrect quotes #natasha x reader #wanda x reader

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havendance · 2 months ago

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New Comics Time!

And it's a long one this week. Lots of comics. I might poke my head in Harley Quinn or Powergirl later for completion/curiosity purposes but I wanted to talk about a lot of these now :)

Detective Comics #1090 - The flashbacks in this issue are far more interesting in my opinion that the present day which is like 'oh no, another serial killer!' While I do think that it's hilarious that Taylor is having it so Thomas Wayne saved Joe Chill's life back in the day (A plot point that would be right at home in Batman: Year Two where Bruce is busy agonizing over the fact that he's planning to kill Joe Chill with the same that killed his parents), I still can't help but be intrigued by the themes of unseen consequences of well-intended actions that he seems to be setting up. Between Thomas saving Joe Chills life, and the fact that I can't help but get shady vibes from Scarlett Martha Scott's anti-aging stuff and offer to Bruce, I'm interested is seeing where this goes

Art-wise, previously, Mikel Janin's art has always had this too-smooth feel to it that made me think of cgi or cell-shading and it just didn't work for me. This time, with him doing his own colors, there's still some of that smoothness, but he's also some texture to it that has vastly improved my enjoyment. We really are in the middle of an age of these bright, technicolor comics and I really like it.

Action Comics #1072 - I do appreciate the flashback we got to explain Mon-El this issue as someone who is not familiar with Superman lore. Kon and Kenan continue to be fun while the adventure in the Phantom Zone continues. For the backup, I continue to really love the art--especially the environment this issue. Plot wise, my curiosity about the prisoner and the nature of Kara's mission is building. I'm a little worried that the tension is getting build up too much and when we finally do get answer's it'll be a disappointment, but we shall just have to see.

Green Arrow #17 - Most of this issue is taken up by cleaning up the last of the double-agent Green Arrow plotline that I largely did not read. I did enjoy the start of Condon's run though. I liked the atmosphere it was setting up and the sniping between Ollie and Batman was very enjoyable. I am interested in seeing more of this new costume. The mask makes him look younger.

Superman #19 - Okay, the moment where both Clark and Lois ducked into the same broom closet to go out and save the day? That was cute. I think my main take-away from this issue was that I really don't know a lot of the current Superman status quo because, like, Lois Lane as the Planet's Editor in Chief? The whole Supercorp thing? Luther's amnesia. I've got nothing on any of it. Part of being a comics fan is rolling with the punches though. I'll probably keep seeing where this story goes, but I think it's also getting prone to being dropped as I wander off.

Absolute Wonder Woman #1 - This was so good. I admit, that was I was doubtful when I first heard the announcement because, I've found in my experience that Kelly Thompson writes fun comics but ones that don't necessarily grab me. I think this best thing of her's I've read, honestly. Diana as an exile! I am also obsessed with Circe being the one to raise her. "How you fall in love with a child is by raising it." It's hitting the same beats for as one of the best parts of the Messner-Loebs run which was Circe as Donna Milton and how she found herself getting drawn into Diana's orbit. The things you do, the people you surround yourself with. That matters for your character. I just loved seeing that redemption there for her.

I love what this is setting up in terms of Diana setting out to try and find who she is and what was hidden from her. There is this mission that is tying her to an origin and people she's never gotten the chance to know. It leaves me really hoping that we get to see her reunited with the Amazons at some point.

The art was also gorgeous. Bellaire's colors were knocking it out of the park as always. Those long horizontal panels I really like, but I did leave wishing I could read this on paper. I am just a little tempted to go out and start getting this in floppy form and we shall see, but also, I am spending this money of dcu infinite and trying to not buy a ton of comics weekly on top of that so I'll probably try to just hold out for the trade instead.

The Flash #14 - This is looking like it's going to be such a fun story arc. Vacation to Skartaris!--I am not the Warlord fan, but it still brings me joy. Not sure if I'm really feeling the artist for this, but the lettering continues to be top notch for this series.

Nightwing #119 - I am a fan of this creepy puppet-master type villain it looks like we're going to get. Fun archetype. I do like the setup we're getting here and the DickBabs banter is top notch. (As a side note, while I know Barbara isn't back to all of her post-crisis glory, I really do appreciate Oracle popping up everywhere in comics again especially coming from the new52). Interested in seeing where it goes!

Green Lantern: Dark #1 - Another comic I checked out because I could, and unlike the werewolf Batman one, I think this one's going to be a keepr. The fantasy vibe that this had was very fun. I like how it played with stories. I also really liked the art. It had this very nice sketchy feel to it.

The Question: All Along the Watchtower #1 - I really liked the opening sequence--that spread of the watchtower? Beautiful. That being said, there was a lot of set-up in this issue. It felt like most of the time was spent having Renee follow Wonder Woman around and have stuff explained to her. This is a new setting and this is also a lot of the introduction to the Watchtower that we're getting prior to Justice League: Unlimited #1 afaik, but I also can't help but feel that there could've been a more efficient way of getting this information across. Say, a map, or a casefile, or even Renee explaining it to the reader rather than having everything explained to her. I think what I really wanted was Renee taking more of a lead, and I hope that we do get that next issue now that all the set-up's out of the way.

All of that being said, the supporting cast is shaping up to be very fun. I was admittedly, holding out for the Huntress, but I will not complain about the Blue Beetles + Batwoman! I am looking forward to seeing how that team unfolds. Art-wise, I don't think I really have much to say, but I did really like the text-boxes that the robot guy had. Nice touch right there.

#havendance reads comics #dc #batman #superman #green arrow #the question #Wonder Woman #Nightwing #the flash #bats + birds + affiliated #last of the flying graysons #wednesday spoilers #carthago delenda est

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possibilistfanfiction · 2 years ago

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conservationist au already!? you write so fast dang (what are your secrets) (also it's okay if you want to keep them secret) (mostly i am excite for frog)

here she is! frog au! lol [ao3]

to see us blossom (while the green spreads like wings)

only our feet have been here, that i'm aware of. it's wild and remote and beautiful as can be. i just want to be quiet and love it. let it sink in. i'll be leaving the planet, sometime. and i'll miss it.

— dr. bruce means

'dr. silva,' diego bursts into your office, his hair fluffed and messy, 'i found someone for the expedition!'

'did you... run here?'

'yeah, from the lab.' he gulps a breath. 'i got excited.'

it's fucking awesome that diego, your favorite grad student, is coming on this expedition, but it's becoming a huge pain in the ass to plan — you try your hardest not to feel guilty about why, but it is mostly because of you — and is starting to feel more and more impossible by the day. you don't want to get your hopes up: you don't have that much funding, and it's starting to seem a little bit impossible logistically, even with dr. superion's help. but you'll humor him: 'so who are we taking with us?'

he waits a breath, practically bursting at the seams. 'beatrice zhang.'

'the photographer?'

'she's an experienced climber! you follow her on instagram, right?'

you have gratuitously followed beatrice zhang on instagram for the last four years — for her photography, because it is some of the most beautiful and thoughtful you've ever seen, regardless of the subject matter, but also for the occasional photo of herself, surfing or climbing or behind the camera, particularly delightful if it features her arms in a tank — but diego doesn't need to know that part. 'yes, her work is wonderful for lots of conservationist efforts.' diplomatic, you think, mentally patting yourself on the back.

'and she's hot.'

'i didn't say that.'

diego rolls his eyes.

'anyway, how would we even get her to come with us?'

diego grins. 'i emailed her.'

'what?'

he takes out his phone and shows you her instagram, which, indeed, does have an ‘email’ button, which, obviously, you've never paid attention to before. 'she hasn't responded yet, or her team or whatever, i guess, but i only sent it ten minutes ago. and it went to a legit address and hasn't bounced back, so, i just figured, why not?'

even though, last year, you had had a successful time in guyana, finding and recording a few new species, there are a lot of why not's, really: your GA probably shouldn’t be making these choices without consulting you first, but you don’t really care about that so much as your mobility is more limited than ever lately. the weather probably won't hold so who the fuck knows if it'll even be possible to reach to spot at all. and, plus, it's for a frog. one tiny frog, that may or may not exist — (you're sure it does) — in the middle of a jungle on the top of a tepui that's never been climbed. it's... a little crazy, when you think through it now, way crazier than it had seemed when you wrote the grant for funding last year. most people, even world renowned war-turned-wildlife photographers with insane biceps — especially them, probably — aren't interested in a project like this.

'well, the least that will happen is she doesn't respond,' you figure; you don't believe in any religion and life had dealt you quite the shitty hand for a long time, so if there's any balancing it out, maybe this will be a strike in the good column for you. so, 'yeah, you're right. why not?'

it's two days later when your phone vibrates about seven times; you roll over in... some girl's bed? okay, solid night, then, and when you look over at her, she's beautiful and fast asleep. you remember your fifth shot of tequila and vaguely how great riding her dick had been; you find your phone graciously plugged into a charger on the nightstand on your side of the bed, and when you go to the bathroom you see condoms in the small trash can — so, all in all, a success. your back is sore but not terrible and you groan when you see it's only six am, but there's texts from diego and you have a policy not to ignore those, no matter how stupid they occasionally can be.

these are unequivocally not stupid, though, because they start with dr. silva! and then ava!!!!! ava! and devolve into some emojis and then omg oh my god and finally check your email, which is really the only helpful part of that — but they're not stupid because when you do check your email, you see a forwarded message from diego first. it's a cordial reply to the email he had sent to beatrice zhang, from her, it seems, asking politely to be put in touch with the lead biologist on the expedition if possible. which, you remember with the tiniest bit of a happy jolt, is you. you open the newest email, which is, in fact, connecting you and beatrice. she’s already responded, and it’s kind of wild because, from the three short sentences asking if you could set up a video chat to talk more about the expedition or, if she happened to be close to where you were in the world, even meet near your office or lab for coffee, she sounds, well, at least interested. you don't think someone like her — someone who has photographed war, and famine, and wildfires, and, miraculously last year, a snow leopard and her cub — would even respond to something she didn't care at all about.

holy shit, you text diego. you need a cup of coffee, or, like, maybe three cups of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich before you can respond to that email, so you decide to get a move on. plus, it feels unhinged to respond to it from your phone, so you need to go home anyway. you should also maybe definitely shower, you think, as you look at yourself in the mirror: your makeup is a little smudged and your hair is an unrepentant mess. still hot though, you think when you quietly find your clothes and put your bra on, a deep teal that makes your boobs look awesome. thankfully, you were just in high-waisted, loose jeans and a cropped sweater last night, so after you wash your face and get dressed, it's not really giving walk of shame — walk of pride, thank you very much.

you google maps where you are and, thankfully, it's a nice enough morning and a short enough distance that you can walk to your favorite cafe and then to your apartment without having to call an uber. you grab your cane from where you'd left it propped up by the wall near the bed, and then, because you're definitely not an asshole, gently shake your, well, one night stand's shoulder. her eyes are green, and you do remember that much.

'i gotta go do some work, sorry.'

she nods. 'right. doctor.'

well, maybe you're a little bit of an asshole, but it's not your fault that people think you're a very important neurosurgeon or something. you are very important in cataloguing biodiversity, so you just roll with it. 'thanks for a great time.'

she nods with a soft smile, and it's nice to kiss her, gently, goodbye.

'wait, you're meeting with her? here?'

'yes,' you say, mostly annoyed at camila's vaguely unhinged energy. 'she's close by train, so it's better to meet in person.'

'oh my god,' camila says. she's one of your best friends and probably the smartest, most tech-savvy person you know. when you figured out how helpful it would be to have someone operate drones for you on this expedition, you hadn't even bothered to ask anyone else.

'don't you know her?'

'well, sure,' camila confirms. 'i did some drone work for her a few months ago in the bahamas when she was photographing sharks. but, like, she's amazing, ava.'

'well, hopefully she'll say yes.'

'you'll have to charm her.'

'i'm very good at charming hot women.'

camila rolls her eyes.

'i'm also very good at charming people to go find frogs with me.'

she waits for a beat and then relents. 'well, i suppose that's true.'

'come on,' you say, 'help me make a slide deck. i feel like she'd think that's sexy or something.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'it'll work, i'm telling you.'

beatrice zhang in soft wool pants and closed-toed birkenstocks and a crewneck sweater sitting ramrod straight at the decent cafe just off campus near your office is, quite honestly, not a sight you'd ever expected to see, but it is kind of a miracle. or, at least that's what it had felt like, when she had emailed that she was, actually, a few hours away by train and wouldn't mind a day trip to meet in person. you're glad that you wore your best professor outfit today, flared navy slacks that make your ass look divine, and a crisp white button up that you tucked in tight and rolled up at the sleeves, a camel peacoat and expensive loafers that dr. salvius had gotten you when you passed your dissertation two years ago. you usually wear... well, not this — you reserve this for conferences and presentations — but, if looking professional helps beatrice sign onto this project, so be it.

and, well, maybe it's not strictly professional to undo another button as you had walked to the cafe, and, like, you don't actually know if beatrice is gay or not, but you spot her and smile and wave and her eyes get big for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ve got it all wrong: you’re small and young and pretty and, sometimes, people think that disqualifies you from being smart. but then her eyes rake over you and linger, for just a moment, on your chest, so you're probably right. if this helps too, so be it.

you wave and she stands very formally; she clearly recognizes you, which makes you feel a small thrill of satisfaction. 'hey, glad you found it okay.'

'i've had much more difficult locations to navigate before, although the freshman can be a bit scary.'

it's deadpan, so it takes you a split second, but then you laugh and offer your hand. 'i'm dr. silva.' you want to roll your eyes at your title, which you normally feel quite proud of, all of a sudden. 'ava, any pronouns.'

'dr. silva,' she says anyway, and shakes your hand firmly. 'it's a pleasure. i'm beatrice, she/her.'

only after do you sit, a little sprawled, and prop your cane up on the table, does she sit too, and then looks down at the menu. 'do you recommend anything? i haven't had lunch yet.'

'well, if you're like, uh... —' falling prey to diet culture, you think, but you don't know beatrice at all, so — 'wanting a vegetable forward option, their salads and quinoa bowls are okay.'

she wrinkles her nose. you hide a smile in the collar of your coat.

'but their kimchi fried chicken sandwich is my favorite.'

'and the slaw?'

'well, i'm a fries girl.'

she smiles over the top of her menu, just slightly.

'but my friend likes the slaw, and i trust her.'

she nods and sets her menu down, her wrists resting on the edge of the table, her hands clasped. a practical smart watch, no wedding band. her full attention is on you and it makes you feel a little breathless.

you're saved from saying something incredibly dumb — you're very, very smart, and you're actually very good at flirting, but beatrice zhang is hot as hell and a certified badass and you also really want her to be, like, your colleague — when your server comes to your table. you both order, and you get the fried chicken sandwich too, even though you already ate lunch an hour ago — diego's always happy to eat your leftovers out of the fridge in the lab anyway.

you're not saved from saying something marginally dumb, though, because beatrice kindly thanks your server and hands over her menu and then looks at you again, fully focused.

'i like your hair,’ you say, instead of, well, anything else. you want to groan and slam your head down into the table, or something, because beatrice's brows knit together and she brings one hand to run through her floppy middle part, short in the back and on the sides, pushing it out of her eyes.

'oh,' she says, softly and definitely confused. 'thank you.'

you're sure you're blushing. 'sorry, i just, like, the last time you posted — you had long hair.'

it's mortifying, the moment you say it, because you can mentally calculate the last time beatrice posted a picture of herself on her instagram, and it was definitely over a year ago.

she also seems to realize this, because her confusion turns to a smug little smile that could probably eat you alive. you'd definitely let it.

'i read about the last species of frog you discovered, when the article came out.'

that was also over a year ago, and you laugh, tension releasing from your shoulders. 'so that’s how you knew what i looked like.’

‘sure.’

to be fair, the article did include a picture of you, muddy and sweaty and overjoyed, holding a tiny frog in the palm of your hand, but, ‘did you google me?’

‘i only take on projects, at this point, that i find interesting.’

‘so you think i’m interesting.’

she raises a brow, a scar that also wasn’t there over a year ago running an inch above it and then straight through, cleanly healed but not faded yet, stopping right on the top of her cheek — thankfully your brain didn't comment on that, even though it's kind of hot too. ‘i think that fact that you've already identified six new species of frog two years into an assistant professorship is interesting.’

'so that's a yes.' you grin. ‘want me to tell you about the project, then?'

she thanks your server when he brings her water and your lemonade of the day, and a coffee, and then leans forward in her seat. ‘yes,' she says. 'i do.’

you tell her about it as coherently as you can: you're sure there's a brand new species of frog — maybe more than one, if you're lucky — on the top of a land mass deep in the forest in guyana. you've secured enough funding to make it happen; bare bones, but still. you have diego and yasmine, your grad students, and michael, another assistant professor in your apartment who's helped you on expeditions before, mostly by carrying a bunch of shit. you've gotten camila — who beatrice is also very excited to work with again — to sign on to do tech work for you. dr. superion and dr. salvius are helping from here.

'so, anyway, i need you to climb the tepui.'

beatrice sits back when you're done, flicks through a few slides on your laptop that you'd handed to her with pictures of the jungle, the cliff face, the budget outlines and logistics and equipment you anticipate you'll need.

'do you know a lot about climbing?'

it's kind — to not assume that you don't; to not expect you to either. you shake your head no.

'i'm an alpinist, for the most part,' she says, 'which means that i climb, well —' she pauses.

'no need to be modest for me.'

she offers a small smile. 'i've climbed eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world.'

hot, you think, but you take a deep breath instead and say, 'that's impressive.' nailed it.

'yes, well.' she blushes. 'thank you. but this kind of climbing is traditional climbing — big wall climbing.'

'oh.' you frown. 'so, you can't do it?'

'i can,' she says, 'and i'd like to. i think i know enough of biology to be marginally helpful, and i can certainly photograph the expedition.'

your heart soars, warming your whole body, and you take a bite of your lukewarm sandwich to hide your smile.

'but i'll need a team. i'm confident that i'll be able to get up the wall, but i'm not experienced enough at this kind of climbing to lead on all of these passes.'

'we might not have the funds to pay much, if you bring on more people.'

she shakes her head. 'i have access to plenty of discretionary funds, so that shouldn't be a problem.'

'that's hot.' well, you tried.

she laughs, thank god. 'i just wanted to make sure that you and your team are okay with me bringing other people on.'

'as long as they aren't, like, shitty, you know. racist, homophobic, ableist. all that stuff.'

she nods, very seriously. 'i can assure you that, while one of my climbing partners is inclined to be an asshole, it's always done with respect toward important identities. she's more annoying than anything. and my other partner is the best person i know.'

'well, other than me, now.'

you can tell beatrice is torn between smiling and rolling her eyes; she does a bit of both. 'and, as far as logistics go, i could easily provide a helicopter to get us in as far as possible. less of a hike.'

it's impossible that beatrice didn't see your cane. 'i have adaptive equipment for myself. i can do the hike.'

but her brows knit together. 'yes, i assumed so: you're leading the expedition. i just meant, for my team at least, the fewer miles we have to bring photography and climbing gear in a jungle, the better. it's heavy, and then we have to do a major climb.'

'oh.' you bite your bottom lip. 'that makes sense. sorry, people suck sometimes.'

'i imagine so.' she looks at you very sincerely. 'i'm sorry.'

you wave her off. 'thanks. it is what it is, though.'

beatrice doesn't try to argue, although you can tell that maybe she wants to. 'anyway, whatever you think will help your team, and whatever will help mine, that falls outside of your grant funds, i can cover.'

'that's — are you sure?'

she nods. 'quite.'

'where did you get these discretionary funds?' you can't help asking.

'a bad man,' she says, leaning forward and whispering dramatically. it makes you laugh.

'ooh, did you kill him? warlord?'

'alas, no. my father, and he's already dead.'

'ah.' you snap your fingers. 'well, if another opportunity comes up, you just let me know. i have tons of lethal neurotoxins in my lab. i'm always down to... you know — murder —' you whisper — 'a billionaire. long haul ethics, you know?'

she nods very solemnly, fighting a smile. 'i'll keep that under advisement.'

you fight the urge to ask her for a drink, and you definitely stare at her mouth a little too long, but then you get it together and offer your hand. 'well, partners?'

she shakes it, hers strong and rough with callouses. the thought sends a little shiver up your spine, but you valiantly ignore it. 'partners.'

beatrice invites you, after a few days of emailing back and forth to create an updated budget and logistics plan, to meet at a climbing gym. it's to meet her other two team members first. before you all get together with your main crew for dinner afterward. she'd given you their names, headshots, and very formal bios, which you had kind of loved: lilith, who, according to beatrice's bio, will be the lead climber. when you google her, you find out that she's, like, a world champion big wall climber, so that bodes well. and then mary, another photographer and world class marksman — I know this isn't particularly relevant, beatrice had included as a footnote, but it is quite impressive — and avid climber too.

you're hopeful about it all, and you're hopeful that tonight maybe she just wants to see you alone, and to have you watch her climb. there's, like, a two percent chance you'll physically be able to climb, really, but that's fine. she'd texted you about it, far less formal than her perfectly punctuated emails, so that's a good sign. and she'd posted a recent picture someone took of her — a candid, petting the trunk of an elephant peacefully — on her instagram too. maybe that was scheduled — beatrice seems like the kind of person who would schedule instagram posts — but a girl can hope, you know? you liked it one hour and fourteen minutes after she posted, from the lab's social media account and not your personal one, so you figure you've handled this all perfectly. you're great, beatrice is a colleague, and you've got this.

you're stressed about what to wear to a climbing gym and then to get dinner afterward, although there's probably a locker room or something, but it's fine. you're hot in anything. (or nothing. not that the night is going to go there.) you settle on tight leggings you wear to the gym and a sports bra, a cropped jacket on over. it's, like, cute and femme, but also practical. you brush on some mascara and put part of your hair into a little bun so it won't fall into your eyes, and you pack a spare change of clothes in a canvas tote — slacks and a nice bra and a t-shirt that hugs your body perfectly along with a pair of platform converse and an army-green overshirt — in case everyone else changes before going to dinner.

you grab your cane and head out the door.

if you fall to your death, it's definitely not going to be because of your back or legs. it's going to be because beatrice is in loose pants that seem comfortable for climbing and a tight racerback tank, and when you walk in, she's hanging by one arm on a short wall, just chilling out there, before she seems to decide what she wants to do. she brings her legs up to find footholds and then she's almost upside down, holding onto the wall with both hands calmly and moving so fluidly — a leg stretching out, her chalked fingers grasping onto a tiny hold. there's a delicate tattoo along her right forearm, all linework, and there are scars all over her left shoulder, running down to her elbow from what you can see: some are jagged and some are clean, neat, like surgical incisions. they don't seem to be limiting her progress at all, because she moves over the outhanging ledge easily and then to the top before just letting go and calmly rolling to her feet after she lands without a sound.

the — very hot — woman, lilith, you know from the headshot, sitting on the floor next to the wall, legs outstretched, leaning back on her palms set flat on the ground behind, and looking impossibly graceful while doing it, groans.

'getting stuck that long on a soft V8? come on, beatrice.'

beatrice, to her credit, just shrugs.

'shoulder?' the other woman asks.

'it's fine,' beatrice says. 'just getting back into the groove of your tiny walls.'

'oh, ha ha.'

'8091 meters will really change your perspective. you should try it sometime.'

'no thanks, i'll stick to my world records, thank you very much.'

they seem like they might physically fight, but then they both start laughing. weird, but you fuck with it.

beatrice turns, her hands on her hips, and, like, whew, god fucking bless, and then waves with a smile when she sees you. she walks over. 'hello ava.'

'hey,' you say, suddenly feeling a little awkward: you have not a single idea what you're doing. 'that was pretty impressive.'

'it was not,' the lilith says.

beatrice heads toward her anyway, and you follow. 'you can ignore her most of the time,' she says. 'dr. silva, this is lilith. lilith, dr. silva.'

'just ava.' you look at beatrice with a raised brow. 'please.'

lilith lazily salutes. 'ava, then. our illustrious leader, i hear. beatrice is making me lead a 1000 foot first ascent for a frog?'

'i'm not making you do anything,' beatrice says, and lilith grumbles like a teenager. it's funny, and you decide that you like her then and there, even if she scares you a little. she scares you a little more when she gracefully gets to her feet. she's tall and imposing, with a sharp face and long hair braided back, more wiry than beatrice's bigger muscles, but — you're sure — just as strong.

she offers her hand, which you shake. 'in my defense,' you say, 'it is a very cool frog. we can even name it after you, if you want.'

this seems to amuse her, because there's a hint of a smile on her face. 'i do like first ascents anyway.'

'see,' you say, 'that's the spirit.'

'ava,' beatrice says, 'no pressure, but i thought you might find it fun to try climbing. only if you'd like.'

'i'm, uh —' you gesture a little clumsily with your cane, the tips of your ears turning red. 'not sure that i can?'

'mary is an adaptive climbing instructor,' beatrice says, gesturing over to the taller wall with ropes connected through pulleys at the top, where a strong Black woman with perfectly neat braids and a dark outfit on is sorting through a few harnesses on the ground. 'but if you'd rather not climb, lilith and i are just finishing up. we can show you a few things we've been practicing in anticipation for the route, and then change and go to dinner.'

beatrice doesn't say either choice with any more or less merit, or worth, or importance: they're choices, and they're yours, and they won't affect how much she trusts you or believes in the expedition. lilith is checking her phone, uninterested at this point, and you decide, as you always have, to try.

'yeah, sure. i have no idea what adaptive climbing is, though.'

beatrice smiles and lilith stays on her phone, texting. 'that's fine. i have no idea about ninety percent of what you study.'

'i find that hard to believe. you're a wildlife photographer.'

she hums, softly touching your elbow and then walking toward mary. 'conservationist photography, sure. but i'm not a biologist.'

you make a note that beatrice doesn't really like wildlife photographer as a job title, although she was polite enough to not outright tell you so. 'well, i'm not a climber, so, quid pro quo?'

'ah, but you will be after tonight,' mary says, standing with a smile and offering her hand. 'dr. silva, right?'

'just ava,' you tell her, endeared by the fact that beatrice had probably been very formally saying dr. silva to her team this entire time. you shake mary's hand as firmly as you can and feel immediately a little more relaxed with the confident, easy way she holds her shoulders, her kind smile, her bright eyes.

'beatrice and i go way back,' she says. 'this project of yours sounds amazing. i was excited when she asked if i wanted in.'

'of course i'd ask,' beatrice says, bumping mary in the shoulder, who rolls her eyes fondly.

'well, beatrice said you were promised an adaptive climbing lesson.'

'if you're still in,' beatrice says, 'mary can show you the ropes.' she laughs at herself. 'literally.'

mary groans, but you're delighted. 'well, don't leave me hanging.'

'no. not another bad pun aficionado. please.'

beatrice grins and you sling an arm over her slightly sweaty and delightfully strong shoulders. she stiffens a little, and mary looks to her for a moment, and you're worried you've overstepped, and fast. but then beatrice relaxes.

you step back and gesture between the two of you happily. 'is this our thing now?'

'if trading terrible puns is wrong, then i don't want to be right.'

mary groans. 'not sure why i agreed to this trip after all.'

'we can name a frog after you, if you want,' you offer.

mary perks up. 'really?'

'yeah,' you say, 'sure. i've already named one after myself and given five others the dumbest, gayest names i could think of.'

'i'm back in, then.'

you laugh. 'well, let's rock and try not to roll.'

mary sighs, but beatrice's muffled laugh into your shoulder is way worth it.

Hi Ava, I'll be in town today to get some equipment squared away. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner if you're free. No shop talk, unless you want

you read and reread the text. you'd gone over shitty — expected, but still shitty — test results from an mri at your neurologist's earlier today, and, even though your team seemed to gel the other night, and all of your logistics are much less daunting now that beatrice has covered some of them financially, you had planned to stay home in your favorite boxers and most comfortable hoodie and wallow with a mediocre bottle of wine and good pizza and great reality tv.

but — hey, that sounds sweet. any places in mind?

beatrice texts back almost immediately. I don't know the area too well. You can pick, if you'd like

like, you're colleagues. you're about to be in one of the most remote parts of the world together in five days, with just a handful of other people, for weeks, maybe longer. you're the leader of the expedition but beatrice is, in important ways, a leader too. she's smart and beautiful and handsome and focused. if it's a date, incredible; if it's not, you still want to know her, you still want to spend time in her gentle warmth.

any food allergies/hatred?

she responds, No, I'm pretty adventurous

still, no clarity, but you set a place and time — one of your favorite tapas restaurants with a great little bar and, if it gets late enough, a good dance floor — and then set about getting ready. you eat a banana and take ibuprofen, which hopefully will help you be able to dance without much pain, and then get as pretty as you deem not desperate for a normal dinner with a colleague to be. which, it's you, so you're still very, very pretty, including one of your very best cleavage tanks. you finish your eyeliner perfectly and blow yourself a little kiss in the mirror. for good luck, or whatever. it's science.

'i got tired of it,' beatrice says. 'war photography is...' she pauses, and shakes her head, like she doesn't quite know what to tell you. you're totally sure she's not telling the truth, not really, but you know not to push, to spook her away. 'i could leave,' she settles on. 'as much as i hate the west, as much as i hate american and european, especially british, foreign policy, and its destruction of the world — i got to take pictures, and leave. at first, i thought it was something important i could do, to record the truth. political inherently, anti-imperialist, without being in politics. but, i was in occupied palestine, and, then, after —' she clears her throat, brings her fingers up to ghost over the scar through her brow — 'after. i couldn't do it. they're wars because of my history — our collective history — but they weren't my wars. they aren’t my wars. i can’t photograph them, at least right now. because i got to leave.'

you're horrified that she might start to cry — which isn't horrifying, not at all, you cry all the time, but you're supposed to be having a nice meal with your colleague and you had asked what you thought was an innocuous question about how she got into her more recent conservationist work, but clearly, not innocuous. you're starting to think, with a kind of clarity you very rarely have about anyone, that nothing about beatrice herself is innocuous. even her collarless button down and loose pants cuffed at the ankles — and the way all of her clothes, ever practical, drape with a tailored casualness on her small, strong frame — her easy hair that’s always actually perfectly trimmed and styled, the pattern of callouses on her hands: everything about her is intentioned. she means what she says. she means what she does. she means who she is.

'i started studying frogs with my mom,' you offer. it's true, and you mean who you are too.

she takes a sip of her water and nods in what you can tell is a quiet relief.

'my family is from manaus. my mom wasn't a scientist or anything, she was a bank teller, but when i was little, we'd go out often. she loved the rainforest, so, you know, i loved the rainforest.'

beatrice smiles gently. 'that sounds beautiful.'

you stare down at a croqueta and tear a small piece of it off, let the old ache fill your chest. 'she died, when i was seven.'

'oh,' beatrice says, 'i —'

'— it was a long time ago,' you say.

'sometimes that doesn't make it hurt any less.'

it's permission, to feel how you need to. most people accept when you tell them that and move on in relief, unwilling or unable to give you the space. but beatrice sits steadily. 'i broke my back, during the car accident we were in; we were visiting spain and, well. i had to relearn to walk. it took a really long time, and the orphanage i grew up in wasn't big on good physical therapy or really any care, so i taught myself what i could outside of school, got into university, got good medical care for the first time, like, ever. and i started studying biology. i went back to the rainforest as soon as i could, as a research assistant, and guyana was ... it's mind-blowing, bea.'

she weighs it all in contemplative silence for a moment, trying to decide what you need; what relief she can give. ‘i can't wait to see. i've always wanted to go.'

it is relief, what you feel, to be so immediately seen and understood. 'well, it's not just anyone i'd want to bring to the rainforest. my mom's favorites were always frogs, so —' you shrug, suddenly a little at a loss.

'so here we are, about to go find another.'

you pop the croqueta into your mouth, feel the dull pain in your chest dissipate when you realize you're close enough to beatrice's face to see her freckles. 'i have spinal stenosis, from the accident. it's progressing pretty fast, even with the best medical team, tech, surgeries, all that.'

she nods, like she understands what you mean without making you have to say it. it's a gift, bigger than she probably knows.

'i really want to find that fucking frog.'

'well,' she says, and lifts her glass, 'to finding our frog.'

'you know, it's bad luck to toast with water.'

she frowns. 'i don't usually drink.'

'you're very... controlled.'

she waits a beat and then grins. 'okay, one beer.'

'fuck yeah!'

'one, ava.'

'mhm. whatever you say, bea.'

'i have to take the train back,' beatrice argues — or, at least, tries to argue, because her eyes drift down to your boobs when you take your sweater off. success.

'you can just stay at my place. i have a mediocre ikea couch.'

'i can't let you sleep on your own couch.'

you laugh. 'oh, you definitely get the couch. i need all the good mattress support i can get before i sleep in a tent for a month.'

she smiles, gently and a little sad, but then the moment passes, a kind of grace. 'fine.'

'really?'

the set of her shoulders is looser but still sure, still so, so certain. 'yes.'

'hell yeah!' she laughs. 'shots?'

beatrice pulls a face but you order lemon drops anyway, mostly because vodka seems neutral and they're a good shot for people who don't drink often, sweet and tangy and fun. beatrice sniffs hers first — bold move, big mistake most of the time — but then nods in approval.

'to our frog,' you say, and she clinks her glass with yours. you touch it to the bartop and she follows suit, and then take it as smoothly as you can. it's an easy drink, so you don't have any problems, and she swallows without too much of a grimace. 'okay?'

'it's not bad,' she says, and your whole body hums, probably because of the two margaritas you had with dinner and this shot now, but also because there are freckles stretching across her cheeks and gold flecks in her brown eyes and if you let yourself look closely a tiny split on her lip, probably from the dry, cool air recently.

you shake yourself out of... whatever that was, and you order two more shots; she takes hers without hesitation this time, laughing when you spill a little down your cheek. she reaches a hand and wipes with her strong hand, tender, over the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, and then clears her throat, takes her hand back quickly, although you want to ask for her to stay. but instead, 'come on, bea,' you say, 'let's dance!'

she only groans in a show of protest for posterity, you're sure, because she's very strong and you're very small and when you tug on her wrists she follows you easily.

you love to dance; you have always loved to dance: what little you remember of your mom is full of green, the rainforest and the wall of your living room. she would push back all the furniture to the edges, just the two of you in a small apartment, where you slept in the same bed and ate fruit from the trees outside. she would put on britney spears and jump around with you; she would put on stevie nicks and hold you in her arms, swaying around. she was full of light, from what you remember, always ready to read to you, in portugese and in english; to help you with your math and your handwriting. she cut your food for you and bought you new shoes when yours wore through the soles. she had been a good mom in the way good moms are: happy to hold your hand, to rub her nose against yours, to let you eat the batter off the spoon. you don't remember much, not before the accident, but it had been easy, and beautiful — the mist and orchids and green, all around.

beatrice is a little stiff until you start jumping around, fully out of time with the music, just to make her laugh. and she does, a smile lighting up her whole face. her body is graceful like this too, like it's always somehow known exactly how to move. you wonder, fleetingly between songs, what she was like as a child, if she was as sure and smart and kind as she is now. someone crowds into her space from behind and then you're not thinking of anything other than the tickle of her hair against your cheek as she presses into you, the lilt of her laugh into your ear, the hard muscles of her shoulders and the soft, small swell of her hips when you bring your palms to rest there. you're drunk and she's beautiful, and you've kissed lots of beautiful people when you've been drunk. but she closes her eyes and sways to the beat and it's like the rest of the world falls away. it's like there's only you and beatrice and the cloud forest, above anything else that has harmed and will harm again. there's her gold skin and scars and tattoos hidden under her shirt, the healed slices down your spine, the air between your bodies: sweaty, sticky with spilled drinks, thumping bass, everyone else in this bar. there's only the two of you, and it's a little like you've been punched in the gut: you're falling in love with her. it's easy, right now, to put a name to it all, when you can look at her jaw without reproach.

she opens her eyes and looks at you, a smile on her face, and leans in your direction. it's easy, to bring your hand to touch where you had been staring, to say, 'bea,' as she laughs into your neck, says, 'this is so fun, thank you.' it's hard to not kiss her, but she's ... extraordinary, and you don't want your first kiss to be in the middle of a mid-at-best dance floor after a few shots. you want it to be somewhere beautiful. somewhere you already know; somewhere you're certain she'll love.

'let's go home,' you say, because you had done another round somewhere between songs and she's slightly unsteady on her feet. she nods into your neck and you take her hand.

you walk back to your apartment with her, one arm looped through hers — 'very gallant,' you'd said when she'd offered, and even in the dim light from the moon and streetlamps you had seen her blush — and your other hand using your cane. she had found it for you, tucked behind where you had been sitting at the bar; she hadn't asked anything about why you didn't use it when you were dancing, or why you need it now. you know so many good people and you organize a lot with some of your other friends who work with the disability center at the university, but there is some kind of a revelation about being seen so wholly.

but maybe you're also just a little drunk, because she sways a bit as you walk and her accent is lilting, tender, her hair messy in her eyes. it's probably as soft as it looks; you had lost your hair tie somewhere between shots two and three and you tuck yours behind your ear. you have so many questions you want to ask her but you hold them in because she looks up at the moon and the stars and it's enough, to be here with her. to know her laugh, now, and the way she has hurt too.

it's enough to just walk.

it hadn't actually taken too much convincing — after you unlocked the door and gave her some choices in pajamas, soft sleep shorts and a big cotton crew her eventual choices, and gotten her a glass of water and a few cheddar crackers — to get her to agree to sleep in your bed with you. perhaps it had been because your couch is ... an unknown number of years old — 'listen, bea, phd students make, like, no money, and it was twenty bucks on craigslist three years go' — or maybe, maybe, it's because she just wants to.

you settle in first, listen to her brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush you'd given her, and wash her face with your facewash — that she had frowned at, accidentally rude but pretty funny and, like, fair, you got it from the drug store on the corner and you're sure she has a whole understated fancy little routine when she's not out in the field — and then wash her hands after going to the bathroom. you love sex, so you sleep with people often. you've had a boyfriend before, that you cared about deeply, so there's some parts of intimacy that are familiar to you, of course. but this, beatrice carefully climbing into bed next to you, with her freckles and her eyelashes and the pink of her lips, is different: you're not going to kiss her, not right now. you're not going to reach out and put your palm on her jaw like you want to, or feel the warm skin of her ribs, the goosebumps that would inevitably rise there if you raked your nails across the ridges. you're not going to because, you know, somewhere elemental in you, that you want to know her, and love her, for a long time. you want to take her to the rainforest.

'where's your favorite place in the world?' you ask instead, whisper it into the dark, the soft outline of her face.

she's turned toward you, her hands tucked carefully under her chin; it makes her look younger. 'tibet. the himalayas.'

'makes sense. you and your big mountains.'

'what's the last mountain you... summited?'

'annapurna. it's the tenth tallest in the world.' she pauses, considering. 'are we playing twenty questions?'

her eyelids are drooping. 'i don't think you're going to be awake for twenty questions.'

she laughs softly. 'i want to ask you one, though.'

'hmm. sure. two to four questions, then.'

'do you... uh, well, okay. do you like women?'

it's so awkward, so out of place for someone so sure, that you have to fight the urge to burst out in laughter. but it's also soft, and nervous, her eyes wide. it makes you feel sixteen again, full of possibility. 'yeah, bea. i'm bi. i love women.'

she nods, tucks her hands even tighter under her chin, lets a big relieved breath out. 'cool.'

'yeah?'

'mhm. i'm a lesbian, if you didn't know.'

you want to say you're the gayest looking person i've ever met but you refrain. for the romance of it all. 'good to know.'

she tries hard to wink and fails miserably. you let yourself, just once, just for a moment, reach out and run your hand through her hair. she leans into your touch, relaxes under it, before you fold yourself back onto your side of the bed. 'you have one more question.'

'so do you.'

'okay. hmm. favorite ice cream flavor?'

she laughs. 'that's what you want to know.'

you nod. 'it's very important information.'

'okay.' she thinks hard about it, genuinely. 'mint chocolate chip?'

'that's so boring, jeez.'

'oh, i'm sorry. simple combinations of dynamic tastes is probably too sophisticated for you to understand.'

'okay, ratatouille.'

she tries, a valiant effort, to not crack a smile, but she eventually does. 'okay, my turn. favorite color?'

you let your eyes fall closed and imagine it all, the sharp thorns and the torrential rain and the chirp of the neon blue frog you'd found last time. you think about taking her there. 'green, of course,' you tell her, a promise, a future in the clouds. 'green.'

#conservationist au #conservationist au 🐸#ft butch bea but we gotta have different tags lol but she's here #just ch1 but ch2 is the expedition!#avatrice #avatrice fic #wn #wn fic #frog au #i guess bc y’all love that lol

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ternfic · 3 months ago

Text

Reboot

Chapter Twenty-One

“Giving Emmet the cold shoulder now?”

Lucy scowled into her glass, holding back an irritated huff. Of course he would come find her just to harass her. “Fuck off, Rex.”

“Ooh, she swears! I hope you haven’t taught my dear sweet innocent baby brother the fuck word.”

Lucy snorted in spite of herself. “No, I’m not giving him the cold shoulder. He wanted to spend some time with Watevra to get to know her. So I figured I’d take the time to myself to get my head sorted out.”

“And you thought alcohol would help with that.” He plopped down in a chair beside her.

“Of course not. It’s iced tea. What do you want, anyway?”

Rex didn’t answer for a while. “I guess I just… want to make really sure you’re not going to abandon him again. Been hearing some interesting rumors going around about you and a certain General.”

Lucy’s cheeks turned a fascinating shade of pink, and she thumped her head onto the table. “That’s part of what I’m trying to get sorted out…” she muttered. “I love Emmet, I do! And now that things are finally settled and we don’t have to worry about danger anymore I want to tell him yes, but…”

“Systar’s brainwashing effects got to you too, huh?”

“Yeah,” she sighed miserably. “And she’s just… so sweet…” She let out a helpless laugh. “I seem to have a type.” She sat up again and scrubbed at her face. “That and all the new memories. I used to think being a nobody before I became a Master Builder was such a terrible thing, but compared to this new ‘I used to be a pop star’ backstory, I think I preferred being a nobody. It feels so alien.”

“That’s a mood,” Rex muttered. He let out a long, slow breath. “I’m still kind of pissed at you all, but I think… had I been in your shoes, I would have made the same decision. I’ll probably even be grateful for it someday, just. Not right now.” Lucy nodded absently. “Lu. Whatever you decide to do, talk to Emmet about it first. He deserves that much from you, at least.”

“Yeah…” she murmured. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I never should have asked Emmet, asked you, to be someone you weren’t just to make me happy. That’s not a mistake I’ll be making again.”

Rex stared at her for a long moment. “…Thanks,” he murmured eventually, and shoved himself back out of his chair, leaving the hall. Lucy watched as he retreated, then shrugged and turned back to her tea. She’d said what she needed to.

Plans for the merging of Apocalypseburg and Systar were already well underway. It sounded like the Systarians were intending to move several of their inhabited moons into Alterra’s system, but for the most part they would be relocating to the planet itself and working on terraforming it to restore it after their warring had rendered it nearly lifeless. They’d even already begun some of the reconstruction- the ruins of Bricksburg finally got torn completely down, and foundations for the new city were being laid down.

Lucy wore a new ring- a proper engagement ring, this time. She’d insisted on Emmet making this one as well, and loved it just as much as the one that had been lost, if not more. She and Emmet had also eventually sat down to have their talk about Lucy’s increasing interest in Sweet.

“I know,” Emmet soothed as Lucy fumbled over her words. “I’ve known for several years now.” She stared at him, dumbfounded.

“How…?”

“You’re the most important person in my life, Lucy. I know I’m not always the most observant person, but when it came to you, I paid attention.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“It seemed like something you were still coming to terms with. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“And you’re not- upset? Jealous? Anything?”

Emmet reached to twine his fingers with hers. “Of course not. You deserve the world, and Sweet’s an awesome person. I’d be happy to have her around.”

“Why? You like her too?” Lucy teased, finally relaxing. Emmet smiled, gently tugging her close to touch their foreheads together.

“You know you’re the only one for me.”

A year to the day after their kidnapping, Syspocalypstar was ready for its first inhabitants. There was a planet-wide celebration involving a lot of food, music, and fireworks. “I gotta admit, it feels good to be home,” Rex told Emmet.

“Rex, you’ve been here helping to rebuild the whole time.”

“Yeah but it didn’t have the ‘home’ vibes til it was finished.” He paused. “The flowers everywhere are gonna take some getting used to, though.” Emmet laughed.

The two brothers glanced up at the sound of Mayhem’s jetpack approaching, and the General dropped Lucy down onto the overlook with them. “Hey!” Emmet greeted, giving Lucy a hug. “Where’ve you two been?”

Lucy only grinned and shoved a pair of binoculars into his hands. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she purred, directing his gaze to the distance. He scanned the horizon for a moment, and then froze, nearly dropping the binoculars.

“Our house!”

Lucy smiled and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek. “Sweet and I worked on it all day yesterday. Hope you don’t mind that we made some modifications to it.”

“Not at all!” He leaned back into her embrace, wiping his eyes. “I’m just- you actually rebuilt it…”

“I loved the house you built for us. I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”

“You do realize you’ve got an audience, right?” Rex drawled, and laughed when Lucy flipped him off.

“You’ve sure got the ‘obnoxious big brother’ thing down pat now,” she huffed at him. Sweet started giggling. Rex only smirked at her.

“Gotta say though, I’m jealous Emmet gets to live with two gorgeous babes.”

“Flatterer.”

“So where are you gonna stay, Rex?” Emmet asked.

Rex shrugged. “I’ll probably just get a flat in the city. The raptors will stay with the Rexcelsior, keep an eye on it in the meantime. I probably won’t stay, the boredom will get to me at some point-”

“Aww Rex, no-” Emmet gasped.

“But I want some time to enjoy being back home first. And it’s not gonna be like last time, I’m not gonna disappear for ten years again. I’ll be sure to come back and tell you all about my adventures.” Emmet sulked at him. “Hey. I promise. I finally got you back, I’m not gonna risk losing you again.”

“Just- don’t leave without saying goodbye…?”

“Of course not.” Rex reached over and ruffled Emmet’s hair, grinning. “You’re stuck with me now, kid.”

#the lego movie #rex dangervest #wyldstyle #emmet brickowski #sweet mayhem #general mayhem #emmetstyle #sweetstyle

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 months ago

Text

Help From a Friend

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

Kiera awoke the following morning to the smell of tea brewing. Brits, she grumbled, secretly hating the smell, but loving the taste as Simon "doctored it up" just right for her liking. Realizing that she awoke on the couch, she shot up, ignoring the pain in her aching back as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. Did he fuck me on the couch, too?

"What time is it?"

He turned around at her words, smirking at the light red marks on her neck, mascara staining under her eyes, and her tangled hair, "Seven on the dot."

"Fuck," She sighed, forcing herself to her feet, looking down and noticing she was wearing the same shirt Simon wore the night before, the hem stopping just above her knees. Rubbing her thighs together, she grimaced at the sticky sensation coating the insides of her legs. "I have to go to work in a bit."

"That's why I'm making you breakfast before I go help your father."

"What do you and dad have planned?" She asked, the term taking her by surprise.

"He asked us all to help him run some cows through some chute-"

"To test for Brucellosis," She answered for him, knowing he would fail at pronouncing the foreign word, watching him nod as he thanked her for saying it before his attempt was about to be brutal. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me today after you do that? I'm not looking to get into another fight today until I find out more about what's going on."

"Of course," He nodded. "Where're we going?"

"I'm not sure yet. Do you still have that picture of the license plate from that so-called cop's car?"

"Love, I'm sure it hasn't gone anywhere. I haven't even figured out how to delete anything on that phone yet."

"You shouldn't." She giggled, watching his brows furrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Can't be deleting evidence from other women from me. Not yet. I'm too happy with you." She frowned, her cheeks forcing her lips to form into a teasing smile even though Simon noticed she was once again doubting herself.

"Stop. I'm not going anywhere. There's no woman on this planet that can take me away from you." He assured her, setting her a plate on the table before making his own - as always.

"I'm sorry. I need to keep these things to myself." She sighed, sitting down at the table, waiting to eat until he joined her.

"No, tell me these things. I want to know what thoughts are hiding in that pretty head of yours so I can make them go away," He replied from the kitchen, turning off the stove before reaching for his mug of tea. "I made you some tea."

"Oh, I smelled it as soon as I woke up," She giggled, taking the mug from his hand. "Thank you."

"Ah, I meant to tell you: Laswell called late last night. Said she wanted to talk to you about something, but she wouldn't tell me."

"I'll call her back. I need to look at that license plate before we leave. I need to find out who this fucker is."

"You will," He nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "When do you want to go into town?"

"Here in a bit. After breakfast, of course, but after I freshen myself up. I feel so gross."

"I can tell," He smirked, watching her shift her weight in her chair, her brows furrowing at the discomfort in her hips. "Alright?"

"Yeah, just sore."

"Is it your back?" He asked, referring to the irritated grafts that were disturbed courtesy of Frankie. He watched her shake her head, another playful smirk splaying on his lips. "Or is it where I had you bent over the couch last night after you soaked our sheets?"

She nearly choked on her own tongue, her complexion flushing at his seductive words mixed with his thick Manchester accent, "W-What?"

"I think I've succeeded in fucking you dumb again," He joked. "I told you I could go for a while, love. I had you all over the bed, then once you soaked the sheets, I bent you over the couch. By the way, the arm of that couch is the perfect height." He winked.

Her breathing shuddered, remembering how he had her at his grasp almost all night, her skin sticking to the leather of the couch, stuffing her full of him after every release, making her climax at least more than once, recalling how she slipped on the shirt he tossed to the side before their night even started, the smell of his cologne relaxing her. "I can agree," She blushed. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"With you on the couch. You slept like a baby."

"I sure hope I did after eating my words last night."

"You were out like a light after we got done," He chuckled. "By the time I got back to bring you a water not even a few minutes later, you were asleep."

"H-How long did we go?" She asked, curiosity poking at her brain.

"A while. I wasn't able to keep track after midnight."

"Midnight?! I have to credit you, babe, you have good stamina."

"I put it to good use," He smirked. "What a way to bring in the new year, yeah?"

"Yeah, aside from having to search for a missing kid." She frowned.

After breakfast, Simon obliged to help her clean up after a long and rough night of intimacy, picking up on how drained she looked. He helped clean between her legs of his mess, even though he was constantly reassuring her that it wasn't a bad thing to see her intimate areas in daylight, knowing she was fighting her insecurities about how her body looked to him, taking note on how she kept his shirt tight around her stomach, hiding her stretch marks from him. Stop fucking hiding from me. I'm obsessed with your body.

It made him frustrated that she constantly hid her body from him, but he understood as he remembered a very vague and brief conversation on how a previous relationship seemed to order her around at every turn, coming down to telling her what to wear and how to wear it. Though he was surprised that she allowed a man to treat her that way, he didn't pry about it and kept from begging her to let him see her, but he compared himself in her situation - he didn't like to be seen nude in light, either - just he was easier to grow comfortable to it.

»»-------¤-------««

"You sure you don't mind coming with me today?" She asked after she had picked up Simon from the barn, grinning at how his shirt had brief dirt stains on it from helping work cattle with her father, Kiera unlocking her new government issued vehicle for him that was suitable for an agent of her tier: a pickup truck, which was nothing she wasn't used to, however she had to get used to the laptop stand, switches for hidden lights, and a toggle switch for sirens that she fought every day to not flip as she was desperate to hear. All courtesy of the police department ordered by Sheriff Richards since her father demanded that she be deputized until this matter was resolved.

"I never mind, love. Gives me more time with you."

She smiled, starting the truck and driving towards the entrance of the ranch to continue their investigation.

The couple engaged in conversation throughout the drive, Kiera taking a lonely road as a detour into town, even though it was really ten minutes longer. "Do you want to grab dinner in town tonight?" She asked, looking over at him.

"If that's what you want, love. I can't recall going out into town together since we got back," He chuckled. "Although I can imagine what it's like."

"Yeah? And what do you think it'll be like?"

"Well, I can see some poor soul coming up to you and saying something out of line and me having to either defend you or carry you out."

She laughed.

"Me? Never."

He hummed, "If you only knew how much of a handful you are."

"Oh, I'm well aware. I'm not sure if you know what you've gotten yourself into. According to Frankie, I'm batshit crazy."

"I know exactly. I wouldn't trade it. You keep me on my toes, that's for sure."

She smirked, glancing over at him before sticking her vape pen between her lips, "And you keep my toes curling. I call that a bargain."

"Even trade." He chuckled, feeling Kiera's phone vibrating from his pocket, remembering how she left it sitting on the counter before they left. Laswell.

"She's calling you."

"Shit, I forgot to call her back," She grumbled, reaching for her phone from his hand, sliding to answer the call and putting her on speaker. "Hey."

"Kiera, I managed to find out some more details."

"What is it?"

"Malcolm. He's gone off the map, too. He hasn't been seen in a few days. His coworkers called the local police department for a wellness check. Everything at his house looks as how he left it. No sign of a robbery or anything."

"Ain't that funny. Seems like he high tailed it, then."

"Possibly. I haven't been able to track any digital tracks of a credit card swipe or anything. The only thing being that he withdrew over thirty grand from his bank account in cash."

"Anything on Shepherd?"

"No. He's still off the grid, I'm afraid."

"Of course," She huffed, looking into her rear-view mirror to see LED blue lights behind her. "The balls on this motherfucker," She spoke to herself. "Hey, let me call you back. I'm being pulled over."

"Pulled over? That's new." Laswell chuckled, Kiera hanging up after she put the truck in park, releasing her seatbelt and exiting the vehicle after realizing that it was Sheriff Richards who stopped her.

"Kiera, I don't just think you can get out on an officer." Simon advised.

"He's stopping me for a reason, babe." She assured him before shutting the door and meeting Richards halfway, the pair stopping just between their vehicles. "Besides, I'm in one of the vehicles he issued me, remember?"

"I know I'm the last person you wanted to see right now." Richards sighed as Kiera met him halfway, the pair meeting just at the bed of the truck.

"I should reward you for being a good guesser."

"There's no time for sarcasm right now, Dutton-"

"Oh, I'm well aware. You still doubting me as an agent?"

"I never doubted you in the first place, just knew how quick you are to use a gun and the last thing I need is for your family to be sued because you can't handle someone talking negative to you."

"What can I say? I just don't tolerate bullshit. That's all."

Richards huffed, "Look, I haven't had time to stop by the ranch, but since I saw you drive by, I needed to tell you about Malcolm."

Her brows rose, "Tell me."

"He has you on his radar, Kiera. And if you know what's good for you, you'll find a way to get off of it." He said, his voice low and somewhat concerned. As much as he and Kiera didn't see eye-to-eye on most things, he couldn't deny that he cared about her and her family.

"That's the goal - when I find him."

"Look, this isn't a fucking joke. Once those screws are in you, there's no getting them out. The last thing we all want is to keep him out of this valley. He's not only cost you a lot of money with the loss of your herd, but he's also been sabotaging other homes, too."

"What gives you that impression?"

"My team did an investigation on him a few years ago when he first moved out here. He was suspected of tax fraud, and he managed to sabotage the homes of the families who were involved and the ones who were former employees that worked under him. He's a menace."

"Then why didn't you have him locked up?"

"Because there was no proof, Kiera."

"I've got proof now. He was the one who flew the plane of a General that has fled the Capital. He was also on the team of said Marines when I was recently deployed. Involved in the betrayal as well as the General because I was too close to busting them for their war crimes, so they've been trying to take me out. Believe me, he's on my list."

Richards sighed as he processed all of the information Kiera was giving him, looking to the road below his feet as his hands rested on his hips. "I'm giving a person who used to be my friend some advice. That's it."

"I never said I wasn't your friend," Kiera corrected, pointing her finger at him, Richards usually taking it as a sign of disrespect, but he took it as assurance to be accepted by Bud's daughter as he had been around the family since Kiera was a child. "The wolves are closing in on all sides, crossing the fucking line when they took that boy."

"What can my department do to help? We've had patrols out ever since your father told me about it. Sent out an AMBER alert and everything-"

"Here's what you can do to help me: get me a warrant. No questions asked."

"There's no point for a warrant when Malcolm is off the radar, Kiera-"

"Not for him."

"For who?"

"I'll let you know. Keep your phone on you. I'll call you when I need it."

Her words sent chills down his spine. He nodded, watching her walk away to her vehicle, getting in quickly to avoid the wind chill.

I'd hate to be on her list. Just like her fucking father, that girl.

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #callofduty #cod #ghost cod mw2 #cod mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod

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