#I’m a little stuck at a bank I don’t like because it’s hard to switch

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

I can’t believe I own a car in Australia I have a tax number and a CAR and a bank and a phone number and I WOW it’s almost like I’m a real person who lives here

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

Home Masterlist

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[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 15

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 4800+

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, fighting

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

“Okay, girl. Let’s move onto your two-three combo, and then you are going to come at me with a right hook as if it was your ex’s face,” Val instructed, holding up her mitts.

You dropped your hands, looking at her. “I’m not doing this because I want to kick his abusive ass. I am doing this for me. To build up my confidence and get stronger.”

“Yeah, yeah. You just want to look good naked for Rogers.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and you started punching the mitts. “Thata girl, I knew I could hit a nerve,” she chuckled to herself. 

You completed a few more rounds, then Val decided it was time for a cool down. You nodded, breathing heavy, and stepped out of the ring. You wiped the sweat from your brow with your forearm while Val came over to help get you out of the gloves. 

“You’re killing it, YN. Like, if someone ever decided to jump you, well, I think they would lose a hand.”

You chuckled at Val’s compliment. “Thanks, I do feel more confident in my movements, and my punches feel like they have more power behind them.”

“They do,” she agreed, “but it’s not hard enough to make me need to ice my hands or anything, like some of the coaches have to do when M’Baku is practicing.” She raised her eyebrows, shaking her head. “Men always have to be the strongest, but they’re not always the smartest.” She let out an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes. “How are things with Rogers?”

You smiled as she started to untie your other glove. “He’s good. I think we’re good. Why, what’s the gossip at the station?”

“There’s not much. He tends to keep to himself about you, but there are times when he does get all flustered, blushy, and red when we pick on him about you. It’s cute,” Val smirked, eyeing you over, feeling yourself have the same reaction as him. “Have you two kindled the flame yet?” She wiggled her eyebrows, making your face heat up even more. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you chuckled, shaking your head. 

“Don’t tell me then,” she winked. “When Carol and I talk about you two, we think you two look good together, and from what you both have been through, you both deserve a win, and I’m happy you two found each other.”

You smiled, undoing the hand wraps. “Thanks, Val. Speaking of Carol--” you peeked up at her, watching her closely “--how are things? Have you told the crew yet?”

“Not yet, but I am sure most of them already suspect something is going on?” Val shrugged, taking a sip out of her water bottle. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I mean, they’re men,” you chuckled, rotating your wrists back and forth.

“Good point,” she laughed, tilting her water bottle at you. “They can be a little slower at picking up hints.”

____________

You sat on the couch folding laundry, following a developing armed robbery happening downtown at the Ideal Federal Saving Bank. 

“Christine, how are things looking there? Have any of the robbers been identified?” Megan Henderson asked from the KTLA studio to Christine Everheart at the scene. 

“Yes, Megan. We know two of the assailants at this time, Jack Rollins and Jasper Sitwell. They are two notorious criminals who have been involved in numerous robberies throughout the state of California, Nevada, and Arizona. We are still unsure about the three other associates assisting with this robbery at this time…”

The monitor by the front door started buzzing, pulling you away from the screen to see who was there. You smiled at the screen, seeing Thor waving at the camera with his hands full of groceries, and you buzzed him in. 

You walked over to grab the remote, seeing the film crew circling the bank in a helicopter, and switched off the tv. You would need Thor's full attention when he helps you make your mom's chocolate chip cookies for fire safety at the station tomorrow. 

“Sister, I come bearing gifts,” Thor shouted, somehow being able to open the front door with his hands full. “And did you see that robbery hostage situation--” he pointed in the direction to downtown LA “--Nat and Clint have their hands full with this one.”

“Yeah, they do,” you agreed, leading Thor to the kitchen to drop off the bags on the counter. You furrowed your brows at the multiple bags of groceries. “What did you all get? All I needed was flour, chocolate chips, and eggs.”

“They were having a sale, and I couldn’t resist.” He lifted up a six-pack of beer, smiling like a child on their birthday.

“Well, that’s not going to take you long to finish,” you smirked at him, pulling groceries from the bags.

“No, I got this for us to drink while we bake mom’s cookies,” Thor added with a sincere smile, scratching his beard. “You know brother-sister bonding. I also grabbed snacks, so we are less tempted to eat all the cookies.” 

You grinned, staring at him in awe. “Sounds like fun, let’s get these cookies started.”

“And I’ll open a beer for you and supervise,” Thor added, going into the drawer to get the bottle opener, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

___________

“Are you sure you’re doing it right?” Thor watched over your shoulders while you started creaming the butter and sugar together. “I don’t remember mom using one of these fancy mixers. She did it with one of those hand mixer thingies.”

“It just makes it go quicker,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And you can do a bigger batch.”

“They’re not going to taste the same.”

“This is how I’ve always made them. You have literally watched me make these cookies with this machine before.”

“Oh well, I noticed they tasted different.”

“You’re insufferable, Thor,” you stated, turning around and pushing him to the other side of the counter. He laughed, taking a seat on the stool across from you.  “Do you want to find my cookie scoop? You’re scooping once I have everything mixed.”

“Finnneee,” he dragged out, complaining. He went over to the drawer and pulled out the scoop, and returned to the stool. “How have things been going with Steve?”

“It’s been fun,” you smiled, adding the eggs to the mixer bowl and turning it on.

“I’m glad. I’m the one who told Steve he could date you.”

“Wait,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “did he ask for permission?”

“No, I just told him that if I had to choose someone from the station to date you, I’d pick him.”

“Oooooh, so you picked him for me?” You scoffed, eyeing him while you added the dries in a little at a time.

“No, no, nothing like that. You can make your own decisions, but you’re a good person, and I wanted you to be with a good man. Besides, Steve is an old fashion guy, and with Dad not around anymore to ask, I figured I was the next best choice since I am the eldest.”

“And Loki was okay with your decision.” You scraped the bowl, adding in the chocolate chips and turning the mixer back on. 

“Well...I didn't ask him per se, but I think he would agree with me on this,” Thor stated, taking a sip of his beer.

“But, when have either of you agreed on anything...ever?” You turned off the machine, taking the bowl off, and started scraping the dough off the paddle. “Besides, you know I can make my own decisions right. I’m an adult.”

“Yes, of course,” he chuckled, playing around with the cookie scoop until it flew out of his hand and skimmed across the kitchen island. “Of course.” He nodded. 

“Says the man child, playing with a cookie scoop,” you snorted, shaking your head.

The last batch of cookies was in the oven, and the rest were cooling on sheets of newspaper. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get a few stares when you made cookies with an audience, but every time you made them with your mom, she’d use a spatula to get them off the pan and then place them on newspaper. You didn’t want to break that little tradition you got from her. 

Thor plopped down on a stool at your small island. “Why did I have to scoop them all?” Thor asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“They’re for your job, I’m not going to do all the work,” you sassed, shaking your head, forcing him to crack a side smile. “Now you wash, and I’ll dry.”

“Do I have to? I just sat down,” he asked with a slight frown.

“Yes,” you stated as he groaned, standing up and making his way to the sink. 

He let out a loud sigh, turning on the faucet, and narrowing his eyes in your direction. You stuck out your tongue at him while you continued to put ingredients away. He sighed loudly again, and you gave him the side-eye as he leaned against the counter, watching the suds magically appear in the water. “I’m happy for you.”

“Okay?” You replied more in a question than a statement. You narrowed your eyes at him, not knowing where that came from. 

“It’s nice to see you smiling and having fun again. You know, putting yourself out there. It’s nice having the sister I grew up with back. I’ve missed her.” He stood up straight, cracking a child-like smile at you. 

“Me too,” you smirked, leaning against the counter. 

He turned back to the sink, placing a few dishes in, and started washing them before placing them on the drying rack. It was weird to watch him do civilized things because he never did them when he was younger. When he left New York, the annoying older brother you grew up with started taking responsibility for his actions. While most actions not involving his nightly escapades. You take a sip of your beer, grabbing a clean cloth to dry, and start putting the dishes away. 

“I filed for divorce yesterday,” you mentioned, hearing Thor drop what he was washing into the sink.

He placed his hands on the edge of the sink, clenching his jaw at the sudsy sink. 

“He’s going to know where you are. Are you okay with taking that risk?” He inquired, scratching at the short beard on his face, turning to you.

“I know it’s a risk, but the only way I am ever gonna feel free of him…is to be free of him.”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Are you going to feel safe here? Cause I can take the couch and stay for a few days. I can take work off and…”

“Thor, Thor,” you interrupted, placing your hand on his upper arm. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know, I just… I want… I want to make sure you’re safe.” 

“I know, and I will be,” you smiled at him, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Is Steve gonna come and stay with you?” 

“I don’t know, maybe.” You shrugged, keeping a close eye on your brother; his bottom lip trembled as his eyes darted in all directions. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded his head aggressively. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine,” he stated in a high-pitched voice, laughing it off.  “But um…I think it would be better if someone stayed here with you, so I know… so we--we all know you’re safe,” he stumbled over his words, wringing his hands together. “Have you at least talked to Loki? What does he think? Does he want me to stay with you?” He asked, rambling on in one breath. 

“I was going to call him tonight and let him know,” you informed softly, trying to calm him down. “Thor--” his worried-filled eyes connected with yours “--I’ll be okay. Okay?” You gave him a reassuring nod. “I know after what happened before...that you blame yourself or you feel like you failed, but you didn’t. I don’t blame you for what happened because it wasn’t any of your doing. I put myself in that situation, and I continued to go back.”

“But, I could have gotten you out of that situation. I am the eldest, and I should’ve done a better job at protecting you, or at the very least, listening to you. I shouldn’t have taken Billy’s side, and for that, I blame myself,” he sniffled, clearing his throat. 

“Thor--” you rubbed his arm, making him look at you “--Billy is and will always be a master manipulator. We all fell for it…”

“Loki didn’t. He saw right through the man,” Thor tried to reason, raising his eyebrows. 

“But he didn’t stop me from going back to Billy. I mean, he tried, but Billy already had me wrapped around his finger.” You paused, biting your lip. “There is no sense in playing the blame game when the only person we should be blaming is Billy.” Thor opened his mouth to say something, but you continued. “You’ve helped me more these last few months than you will ever realize. Don’t think about the past and how you could’ve helped me, but think about right now, and how you did help me. I still don’t know how to thank you for it.”

“You can thank me by letting someone stay with you for a couple of weeks.”

“Wow...we’re still on that,” you scoffed, forcing a trembling chuckle out of him. “I know open communication was never our family's forte, but I love you, brother.”

“Love you, too, sis,” he smiled, leaning towards you and pulling you into a hug. 

___________

You walked into the station through the open garage doors, noticing the spotless, shiny red trucks glistening in the sun, bringing a sense of ease over you and a smile to your face. This place felt like a second home that came with a family that you didn’t know you needed. You spotted Steve helping a few guys set up chairs in front of a portable tv while others set up tables for interactive activities for the kids to participate in. There were even goody bags with plastic red firemen hats and the treat table that continued to grow. 

“YN, I see you got talked into making something, too?” You looked over to see Nat, holding a pan of brownies, and you lifted your two containers of cookies. “I swear these boys wouldn't survive without us. I mean, Val and Carol would be safe, but the boys.” She shot you a tight smile, shaking her head. 

“Agreed,” you chuckled.

“And there is my nerd now, I’ll be back,” she winked, walking over to Bucky. She handed him the brownies, and he leaned down and kissed her ever so gently. 

“It’s disgusting, isn't it?” You looked to your right to see Sam with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes. 

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” You chuckled, rubbing your lips together and glancing at them one more time. Steve caught your eye, and a sweet smile broke across his face. “You’ll find someone, Sam. You’re such a catch.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted.

“Would some cookies help?” You offered, handing him the containers. 

“Yes.” Sam grinned his gap-tooth smile, taking the container. “Thank you, YN. This is why you’re my favorite.” He took a bite out of one of the cookies, walking away, holding it up in the air. “The best batch yet.” 

Steve shook his head at a grinning Sam, walking over to you, and pulled you into a hug. You giggled into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist, and he started swaying back and forth. You rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him. He leaned down, giving you a quick peck on the lips. 

“How did Bucky and Steve get girls like that?” Sam asked Val at the treat table.

“I guess some people just get lucky.” Val shrugged, and Sam angrily took a bite out of another cookie.  

“Want some ice cream?”

“Yes, I want all the ice cream,” Sam added, following Val to the break room. 

“Question--” Steve stopped swaying and pulled away from you “--do you have any plans for tonight?” 

“No, why do you have something planned,” he teased, shooting you his signature smirk.

“Maybe.”

“What are we doing?”

“I’m afraid that is classified, but I have something for you.” You reached into your purse, pulling out a manila folder, handing it to him. 

Steve narrowed his eyes in curiosity. He opened the folder, his eyes scanning it over. “Divorce papers. This is a big step, YN,” He smiled at you, but it quickly dropped to concern. “Billy is going to know where you are.”

“I know, but I feel like it is time to put the past behind me and move on with my life.”

“Okay, as long as you’re ready, then I’m here for you with whatever you need.” 

“I know,” you smiled shyly.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Thor clasped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m proud of her,” Steve winked, making your smile spread wider.

“As am I,” Thor smiled, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. 

You shake your head at them. “I better get to my shift, but Sam has the cookies, and I want my containers back ASAP, or I am going to hurt you, Thor.” You stated, walking backwards.

“I’ll make sure they are in your possession tonight.” Thor saluted, making you shake your head.

“Have a good shift, YN. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Just know this, Steve, if you hurt my little sister, we will have more than words,” Thor stated, squeezing Steve’s shoulder a little harder watching you walk out of the station with Nat by your side.

Steve nodded, turning to him. “I don’t intend to.”

“Good man.” Thor patted him on the shoulder, giving him a closed-mouth smile. “Before she met you, she was lost in her own little world. Fighting the beast, invading her dreams, and trying to tackle her own troubles. She thought she could only rely on herself to make the important choices but soon realized she had supporters, like you and me. So, thank you, Steve, for helping bring my sister back.” 

Steve nodded to Thor as the tall man went back to help the group set up.

“Did he threaten you?” Bucky asked with a breathy laugh, coming over to him.

“Ahh…yeah…sort of….I think.” Steve's eyebrows knit together, trying to figure out what exactly just happened. “But, I’m gonna make a quick call.”

“Do your thing, pal?” Bucky patted him on the shoulder and went over to help the group finish up.

Steve took out his phone until he found the name he was looking for; He brought it to his ear as soon as it started to ring. 

“Hey, Steve. How’s it going?”

“I’m good. Listen, I’m not going to be able to play pool tonight. I got a...I  got a date,” Steve smiled at his own words, scratching at his beard.

“Oh, is this the one you have been kind of seeing?”

“Yeah, YN.”

“Good for you, man.”

“Thanks, but I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

“I have a feeling we’ll see each other soon. Have a good night, Steve.”

“Bye, Jig,” Steve smiled, sliding the phone back into his pocket, and headed over to finish getting everything ready for fire safety.  

__________

The team stood by one of the open garage doors in anticipation for the first group of young students and their teachers to arrive. The workout room was transformed into a small teaching area, complete with fold-out chairs and a roll-away tv. Snacks and goody bags were also waiting for them with a welcoming banner hanging from the second-story loft. 

Steve let out a deep breath with his hands on his hips, eyeing at what they were able to accomplish.  It looked very welcoming, but he didn’t know what was going to happen. He liked kids but wasn’t always great at talking to them, but Carol reassured them that the first group of students might not go as planned, but they had another six to make up for it. 

“First group approaching,” Sam shouted, going over to the door to greet them. Sam shook the teacher's hand, flashing her his famous gap-tooth smile. 

Bucky scoffed beside Steve, gripping his shoulder. “Don’t be nervous, pal. Just avoid swearing or talking about anything too scary. Kids think we are badasses, and they look up to us. We are heroes to them.”

Steve swallowed, nodding at him. He rubbed his hands together, taking in the twenty little kids, grabbing snacks, and taking their seats while Carol stood in front of them with a huge smile.

“How’s everyone doing today?” Carol asked, earning a group of students shouting while others remained silent. “I’m glad to hear it. My name is Captain Carol Danvers, but you can call me Ace, and I am in charge of Station 107. Those wearing the dark blue shirts around you are my teammates.” She pointed to Sam, who then introduced himself as they went around the room. “Now that you know my team, what are your names?”

The teachers introduced themselves before the kids went around the room saying their names. Steve stood off to the side, nodding his head, trying to remember every kid’s name. His eyes stopped on one familiar little girl, Morgan Stark. She caught his eye, and she waved with an exciting smile on her face. He nodded at her, mimicking her expression on his face. Steve noticed she also waved at Sam. Seeing her brought back the memory of his first encounter with YN and losing his dispatcher cherry while saving Morgan from the electrified pool in the process. 

“Do any of you know the number to call in case someone needs help?” Danvers asked, bringing Steve's attention back to the present. Hands flew into the air, including Morgans. Danvers pointed to one of the students, and he replied with 911. 

Steve zoned out as Danvers continued to talk with the young kids. His eyes traveled around the room, noticing how some of the teachers would catch his eye but then quickly look away. He smirked, realizing Thor and YN weren’t kidding when they said the teachers would flirt with them. Thor winked at one of them, and she blushed, unable to keep the smile off her face. Steve shook his head at them, returning his attention to Danvers.

“....when you dial 911, your call gets directed to a dispatcher, and they use a system called CAD, which is a computer-aided dispatch. They punch the address you give them in, and the dispatcher can figure out what unit is closest for them to send help. Now, how many of you know your address?” A few hands shot up, and Carol nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t just go home and talk to your parents about it. They love to watch you learn and would be more than willing to help.” She nodded, clasping her hands together. “We are going to watch a quick safety video and then break off into groups and do a few different activities and see some cool things. How’s that sound?” She got a few cheers from the students while the others kept quiet. Danvers smiled, switching the tv on and pushing play on the DVD player, before stepping off to the side. 

The kids broke off into four smaller groups; Bucky and Steve took their group around, showing them different trucks, and explained their purpose. Steve couldn’t help but smile when the kids’ faces brightened up upon seeing the inside of the trucks. They did their best to explain what some of the equipment inside was, but most of the kids seemed too excited to listen. According to Bucky, kids like seeing the trucks and could care less about the other activities they had set up.

The first group's time was coming to an end, and the team could see the next class approaching in the distance. The team handed out gift bags, and all the kids were smiling and putting on their red plastic hats. The teachers told the students to say thank you, and they did so in unison before they retreated towards the door.

Steve stood by the entrance waving goodbye to the previous class, awaiting to greet the next class. He felt a tug on his pants, and he looked down to see Morgan smiling up at him.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be up there with your partner?” He leaned down to her eye level, resting a knee on the ground.

“She is waiting,” she pointed to her, and Steve smirked, seeing her waiting impatiently. “Besides, my teacher is still talking to the tall one.”

He glanced over to see the tall one was Thor, and he was doing the thing he always did. “Look at that, you’re right.” He nodded. “What can I do for you, Morgan?”

“I wanted to give you this--” she handed him a homemade card “--the tall one helped me make it at the coloring table.” She rocked back and forth on her feet and blushed.

“Aww, thank you.” He opened the card, reading: Thank you, Fireman Steve, for saving me, and it was an image of her in a pool with him on one side and Sam was on the other. “You’re welcome. I like it. You are quite the artist.”

She smiled. “I gave one to Fireman Sam, too.” She pointed at him with a smile.

“I’m sure he loved it, too.” Steve smiled at it. “I'm going to have to put this on my fridge at home.” He chuckled, and in an instance, the little girl wrapped her little arms around her neck and pulled him close. He patted her on the back and pulled away. “Stay out of trouble, and don’t get into any more electrified pools.” 

She shot him a funny look. “You too,” she smiled, running over to her partner.

Her teacher passed by him, folding a piece of paper and sliding it into her pocket, which Steve could only assume to be Thor's number. He shook his head, looking back at Thor to see him staring at her retreating figure. 

Thor caught Steve's eye, and he shrugged. “What? I like women, but you know, not in a creepy way.”

After the first class came through, the rest of the groups were easy; having got the lay-of-the-land and knowing what to say. Although towards the end of the day, the older kids, the 2nd graders, asked more daring questions, in which Steve tried to keep it G or PG.

“And with that, class is dismissed,” Danvers stated, plopping down in one of the fold-up chairs, sighing loudly. 

“Hear, hear,” Sam nodded, plopping down next to her. “It’s the repetition that gets me. I could go home and fall asleep right now. Who knew kids could be so exhausting. I praise the teachers cause I know I couldn’t put up with their shit all the time.” Everyone murmured in agreement.

“How are you all tired?” Thor asked with his hands on his hips.

“We weren’t at the coloring station. We were explaining and answering questions trying to keep things kid-friendly.”

“Well, you should’ve been. In my opinion, it’s the best station.”

“No, the trucks are, the arts and crafts station is the boring table. The kids were talking about it,” Bucky added, folding up a few chairs. 

“Doesn’t matter, I got a few numbers. And...” he walked over to the snack table, taking the last of YN cookies “--I got the last cookie,” he chuckled, taking a bite.

“Let’s quit complaining about what activity was better and remember it was about teaching the kids,” Danvers stated. “Now, let’s get this cleaned up, so the crew can do their job tonight.” Everyone mumbled, nodding in agreement. 

Thor snapped the container to your Tupperware shut, shoving the last bite of cookie in his mouth. “I could drop off the Tupperware tonight if you’d like. I’m meeting up with her after her shift,” Steve offered, packing up the leftover snacks. 

“Yes, I suppose you could, but if they go missing and she doesn’t get them. This all comes back to me, and I don’t need that on my conscience right now.” 

“Probably a good idea you do it then,” Steve chuckled. 

____________

Standing in front of the mirror, you try to get your hair to do a thing, but it isn’t doing the thing, so you decide to leave it as is. A buzzing sound at the front door brings an excited smile to your face. You trotted down the stairs, seeing Steve and Cosmo at the gate. You buzzed them in and went into the kitchen to grab two wine glasses and a bottle from your stash. You set them on the kitchen island, hearing Cosmo barking on the other side of the door. You smirked to yourself, walking over to the front door, remembering Steve mentioning how much Cosmo missed you. It was utter nonsense, but you couldn’t help but smile. You opened the front door, and your smile quickly disappeared.

“Billy.”

“Hi, honey. Did you miss me?”

_________

AN: Thanks for reading part 15! Those pesky cliffhangers! Where did Billy come from? Has he been watching her this whole time? Hmmmm....any theories?! And of course, all of this had to happen when things between her and Steve were finally going forward. It's almost like I planned it! Muwahaha! And speaking of Steve...what could’ve happened to him and Cosmo? Besides the ending, did you like Thor and her little chitchat, the brother-sister bonding sesh. We did learn that Thor clearly still blames himself for what happened way back then, but maybe now after their little chat, he will finally start forgiving himself, but who knows with the current revelation happening! 😬 And Val and Carol, did anyone guess that happening?! Also, did you enjoy fire safety day?! I thought it would be a good throwback to the first chapter and bring Morgan back, and I thought it would just be cute seeing the team trying to keep things G/PG when talking about their job. Haha! Better prepare yourself for the next couple chapters, cause things are going get deep! As always thanks for reading, comments always welcome! 

[illneverrecover]

the sweetest thing (M) | myg

➛pairing: Min Yoongi x reader ➛genre: florist!Yoongi, baker!Reader, florist AU, baker AU, enemies to lovers, humor, smut. ➛word count: 4799 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: not too many, this is pretty sweet & soft. Heavy petting, cursing, making out, neck kissing, biting/marking, icing used in a dirty manner, implied sex, mild dirty talk, bad puns, witty banter. ➛summary: Min Yoongi was sure you moved in next door to his floral shop just to ruin him and his business. But when he needs your help, he realizes that it’s much sweeter working together then apart. ➛notes: Hehehe. My sweet little angel bb Paril requested some florist shop Yoongi E2L with baker reader, and I just had to oblige. I love writing Yoongi, he truly just is perfect for me to channel sass and sarcasm and a bit of sweetness. Thank you for commissioning me @serensama​ (and the kind bank of @quinnkook​), I hope you enjoy this and that it’s what you were looking for! I love you tons and I’m proud to be your soulmate. 🖤 ➛song: People - AGUST D for the sweet fluff  & Poison - GOT7  for the dirty dirty.

“She’s doing this on purpose.”

“No she isn’t, hyung. That doesn’t make sense.” Namjoon picks up a rose, twirling it in inspection. “Does she even know you exist?”

Yoongi scoffs then, eyes darting from the arrangement in front of him to glare at Namjoon. “Of course she knows I exist. Our shops share a wall.”

Instead of replying, Namjoon rolls his eyes before refocusing, carefully watching the stem as his hand slides the knife down it to remove any thorns. Yoongi accepts his silence as defeat, puffing his chest. “So, like I was saying - she’s doing this on purpose, and she’s going to bleed me dry.”

The door swings open then, Hoseok and Jungkook both moving to the workstations with arms full of supplies, the latter’s eyes wide as he picks up on the conversation.

“Wait! Are you talking about Y/N noona?”

“Yes, and how she’s killing business-”

“Isn’t she just the coolest?!” Jungkook interrupts, beaming over at Yoongi. “Have you seen the designs for her flower cookies? And how she’s selling twelve of them in a pack and calling them ‘coo-quets’? Get it? Like instead of-”

“Bouquets, yes Jungkook, I get the pun.” Yoongi mutters dryly, setting the finished arrangement in it’s vase and sliding it to the side. Hoseok is laughing, so hard in fact that he misses Yoongi picking up a roll of tape until it beams him in the head.

“Hey! What was that for!” rubbing his crown, he glares at the florist before reluctantly picking up the tape, fixing the customer label to the side of the vase before moving it over to the fridge. “Don’t be violent with me just because you have the hots for the pretty baker next door.”

Yoongi sputters, hand slapping the top of the table. “I do not have the hots for-”

“Yeah yeah, we know, you definitely aren’t into Y/N, at all,” Namjoon deadpans, reaching into the box for his next rose to dethorn. “You don’t find her attractive, you didn’t stalk her and pretend to be a customer just so you could see inside her business, absolutely nothing to see here.”

“Your sarcasm is noted and also not appreciated,” Yoongi sniffs, before turning away from the taller man all together. “All I’m saying is, ever since she moved into that building, she’s caused issues. And now this is how she decides to promote for the Spring Blossom festival? It feels like an attack.”

“But hyung, it’s called the ‘Spring Blossom Festival’, I think leaning towards flowers would be kind of an obvious choice, right?” Jungkook prompts, head tilting in naive innocence. 

Yoongi sighs heavily, head dropping to his chest, and wonders not for the first time why he thought hiring his friends to work with him was a good idea. 

Maybe Jungkook had a point; maybe they all did. But that wasn’t enough to convince Yoongi that your motives were all sincere in nature. He was telling the truth when he said that ever since you had moved in next door, things had gone haywire for his small, locally loved floral shop. 

He had only been in the space for about a year, but the street it was on had picked up in popularity with a new pub and restaurant concept on the corner, and a local farmers market moving in on the weekends. Quickly, his little business grew, people coming to him when seeking unique arrangements that were both beautiful and affordable. As demand increased, so did the need to hire more hands, and his friends had been enthusiastic to join his payroll. 

For the most part, things had been smooth sailing.Training the others had been relatively easy, and what shortcomings they had, he was able to find a new strength they each brought to the business. He was comfortable, thriving, going to bed with a full belly and fat wallet, and it’s all he could ask for.

Until you.

Yoongi didn’t even see you until after you had already bought and renovated the building next door, the sign for your bakery going up and accenting the coral pink of the painted brick perfectly. He had thought it was cute; how bright and cheery your shop looked, how you were always dressed in flattering sundresses and heels, despite spending your days in a kitchen baking. He walked past your place daily to get to his own, and had found himself curious about what you were like, how good your food was, how successful you’d be.

He figured the aesthetic alone would bring in some customers, if not the increased foot traffic the farmers market brought in, and he wasn’t wrong. Your soft opening had gone well, a small line forming outside the building to Yoongi’s amusement. Word of mouth worked like a charm in your neighborhood, and a steady flow of regulars would greet him on his trek into work each morning at sunrise as they awaited their breakfast pastry and hot cup of coffee.

While this was great for you, it wasn’t so good for him. Your customers would always line up in the direction where they would block his window, meaning people walking by couldn’t get a glimpse at the creations he had displayed in the windows. Not to mention the littering - flurries of light brown napkins with your logo stamped in the middle usually lining the street in front of the shops, seemingly taunting him.

And then, the festival came. The Spring Blossom Festival, to be exact. 

It was clever, he’d admit that much. The word play of ‘cookie’ and ‘bouquet’, the different color options of the edible flowers painstakingly drawn onto perfectly baked sugar cookies. You had really put thought and effort into the design, and he wasn’t surprised that it seemed to be a hit, dominating the first several days of the festival.

But that didn’t mean he liked it.

He watched helplessly as his sales dipped, as customers that would’ve wanted the real thing instead switched it up for prettily decorated consumable flowers, all cooing and preening over the treats in their matching boxes.

Yoongi had to retaliate. What else was there for him to do?

After watching you hang neon pink flyers up around the street, he had made some as well, deciding he’d place them conveniently directly over your own. Matching the paper to yours had been Namjoon's suggestion, and Yoongi had thought it was genius. That seemed to bring in a few more customers, but the lull still remained, his till and bank account making it painfully apparent.

It had been Jungkook's idea to photo bomb some of your promotional pictures when he spotted you posing in front of the shop, pristine desserts in hand and a floral dress on to match. Yoongi had shook his head but ultimately agreed, handing him one of his best designed bouquets and nudging him towards your bakery. Trying to make it look natural, he strolled back and forth in the background, making sure the flowers in his hand were always towards the camera, that he looked as if he was enjoying the festival as a patron. After about the fifth pass through, the boxy lipped young man taking your pictures had scowled, shouting after him to get out of the way. You had laughed, invited Jungkook to talk with you, even posted one of the pictures with him in it on your Instagram like it hadn’t phased you at all.

Now, here he was with only two more days left of the festival - a time that he should be making double - and with nothing more to show for it. Pre-made and custom bouquets lined the shop windows, hoping to entice anyone passing by, but most remained untouched and without a home to go to.

He was desperate.

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" Hoseok interjects, an eyebrow raised. "Maybe you can explain what's happening, see if she'd be willing to help out or team up or something."

Scoffing loudly, Yoongi kicks at the ground. "Team up? You think I want to team up with her? This is a serious business I run here, you know."

Hoseok gives Namjoon a passing glance over the blonde's head, not that he notices, too stuck inside his thoughts. It's Jungkook's loud voice that breaks the silence once more.

"Y/N noona is really nice, you know. And her cookies are so yummy, I bet she would love to help us!"

"You've tried her cookies, Jungkook?!" Yoongi’s voice raises, incredulous. "This is a sudden yet inevitable betrayal, you know. It really be your own friends."

"Seriously, Yoongi. You think she's cute anyway. Might as well go over under the pretense of business and at least see if you can score her number." Namjoon deadpanned, dropping his knife and making sure to show him every ounce of pleading desperation on his face.

Yoongi ponders for a beat or two, pretending to mull it over all the while recognizing that it couldn't hurt anything to go chat with his new neighbor, introduce himself. Who knows, maybe there was a deal to be made?

You thought he was so cute, the grumpy little florist next door.

His mouth was perpetually in a pout, bottom lip upturned enough that it made him look like he was always inspecting, always exasperated. His eyes were sharp, but not in a judgmental way - more like in the way where you knew nothing went past his scrutinizing gaze, and they were offset by the soft white blonde of his hair, in the refined silver hoops that lined his ears. 

Your neighbor Yoongi was a walking contradiction, and you couldn’t help but to be charmed by him.

You had heard rumors about him, heard people's worries of you moving into the building next to his very popular floral shop, but you didn't pay them any mind. You had yet to meet someone that you couldn't make a friend, and if he was impervious to your charms, he definitely wouldn't be able to deny your best coworker, Taehyung, and his infectious personality.

But despite your attempts, you always seemed to miss him, unable to properly introduce yourself when he bustled by during the morning rush, or when you were cleaning up shop. It didn't stop you from observing, from watching the way he eyed your building, the way he'd upturn his lip at the line forming outside the door at daybreak.

He seemed so easily ruffled, so annoyed but in this endearing way, and you couldn't help but want to get to know him, to see if you could get him to open up.

Especially once he started his attempts at sabotage.

They had been subtle at first - the flyer trick something you wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for Jin, who made sure to check and replace any torn advertisements at the end of each day. The designs had looked so similar that you didn't even double take until the elder had pointed out the word change, how the name of Yoongi's business adorned the top of the page. Jin's eyes were ablaze, but you had just laughed, instructing him to leave the ones he found alone.

But it made you more curious, further intrigued by your flower selling neighbor who took such lengths to garner business, and you couldn't help but want to see what he did next.

It had been Taehyung that grumbled about some tall dark haired boy ruining all your promotional shots, though he had smirked the whole time he showed you the images you ended up with. You recognized that he was a worker at the florist next door almost immediately, the immaculate arrangement he carried carefully in his hands striking your intuition further.

Finally, Taehyung had shouted at him, and you called the boy over to introduce himself despite his red cheeks and ducking gaze. You learned his name was Jungkook and that he was indeed a coworker and friend of Yoongi’s, and that he was just trying to help, though he wouldn't go into much more detail after that. You had chatted with him briefly, offering him a cookie for his troubles, and promised him that you weren’t mad about his attempts at photobombing.

And you were telling the truth - you really couldn't be annoyed at these attempts to thwart your advertising, instead laughing at each new picture, making sure you picked one where the bouquet was clearly visible behind you as you held an open box of 'coo-quets'.

It isn't hatred, you don't think, that drives your neighbor to do this, but you aren't quite sure where to go from here. He still hadn't introduced himself, and with how busy things were during the festival, you hadn't found the time to do the same either, working long hours to keep afloat with your orders and walk-ins. You wanted to ask him why he was so annoyed with you, what he had against your little bakery, but you told yourself there would be time for that later when the heat died down.

Not to mention, Taehyung had been chomping at the bit for an excuse to go introduce himself.

"Y/N," he whined, dragging the last syllable of your name out into an obnoxious tune. "I just want to go make friends! Why won't you let me?"

"Because someone needs to run the register for these customers, Tae. Jin and I are elbow deep in cookie dough, and Jimin can't run both sides of the counter himself."

The tall man sulks, bottom lip jutting out as his caramel hair flops into his face. "You have a point, I guess. But once the festival is done, I'm going to go introduce myself and invite them over for coffee."

You smile at him then, eyeing him from the corner of your vision as your hands continue to delicately trace colored icing on the cookies in front of you. "That sounds like a deal, Tae."

"Oh! Me too though!" Jimin shouts, turning from the counter to glance into the kitchen of your shop. Normally you'd have the doors to the kitchen closed, but with the day about to start, it made it easier to prop them open while you ran back and forth between the two stations. "I want to go say hi too. They look like really cool guys!"

I'd have to agree, you thought to yourself, picturing the sharp eyed man in your mind, but you stay silent.

To say you were startled when you heard a knock at the back door would be an understatement, even more so when you saw who it was - Yoongi, the pouting florist, blonde hair flopped into his face. He was wearing a fluffy white sweater, a dark green apron tied around his neck and waist, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, like he had been prepping for hours - much like you.

With a single look, you shooed the other men out of the kitchen to the front, opening the door to your guest.

"Well hey! You must be Yoongi, I'm-"

"Y/N."

"Oh, I didn't know you knew who I was!" you smile warmly, gesturing for him to step into the kitchen.

"Well, I had seen you move in, of course. Plus, Jungkook hasn't shut up since he met you," he mutters, shaking his hair out of his face as he took several steps inside. "He's like a stray cat, you know. Once you feed him, he's your friend for life."

That made you laugh, a hand rising to cover your mouth, and you couldn’t help the smirk that follows. "Well, he was too cute not to feed. Is that why you're here? Are you another stray who would like to be fed?"

Yoongi’s cheeks flush then, a dusty red that you think would look perfect in the petals of a rose, and you promise yourself to try to recreate it in frosting later.

“Ha, that’s funny,” he clears his throat, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. “Actually, I was coming to talk to you to see if we could make an arrangement, you know - as one business owner to another.”

“Is that so?” you raise a brow, hands resting at your hips. “And what kind of deal would that be?”

You're surprised at how honest Yoongi is when he explains his situation, lays his hardships bare before you right there in the stuffy heat of your kitchen. He does manage to at least look a little embarrassed when he admits what he did in order to ramp up business, and you can’t stop your heart from softening as he finishes his request, wringing his hands as he looks at you expectantly. 

“So, what you’re saying is - you want to work together, make something that the festival goers will love but will help both of our shops - is that right?”

He stands tall then, shoulders rolling back as his gaze pierces through your own. “That’s right. Think of it as a ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’ type of deal.”

“Is this another cat analogy?”

Yoongi groans, and you giggle at the roll of his eyes. 

“I already regret this.”

Stepping closer, you peer up at the florist, watching the way his eyes widen at your proximity. “No, you don’t. And technically I think I’m doing all the scratching here, but that’s okay. I think we could make a good team, Min Yoongi.”

The event is crowded, more so than Yoongi could have ever imagined.

The tables he and you had placed in front of both buildings were stuffed with goods, the heads of your coworkers ducking back inside each entrance to refill them when they got low. Customers were milling about; some taking in the offerings, others lining up in wait to purchase, and the sheer number of people had Yoongi grinning widely.

It was your idea, of course - to offer up a half dozen flowers with a half dozen of cookies, the perfect set. That isn’t to say Yoongi didn’t help; the concept of decorating the tables and dressing formally to stand out being his own, as well as offering to match the flowers and cookies to each other. The red roses and pair set cookies were flying off the shelves fast, but so were the purple calla lilies and pink tulips, which made him smile. 

You had been more enthusiastic with the plan, gladly altering the designs of your ‘coo-quets’ to match, and it was clearly a smash hit. Yoongi thought back to how easily it had been to talk to you, to be honest, to spill his guts - how quickly you were willing to help, how natural it had been to form a plan, to laugh with you, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

Yoongi was thrilled with the sales and popularity, of course, but found himself distracted despite the success. He was happy to see his employees grinning and getting along with your own, glad to see the till fill knowing that he’d be able to pay everyone on time, but more than anything, he was ecstatic to see you smile, to see you shine in the sunset pink summer dress that was brushing the tops of your knees.

He himself had donned some light grey dress pants with a white button down, the sleeves carefully rolled to expose his forearms, jacket long forgotten in the heat of the outdoors. You had beamed at him when he first arrived, nodding approvingly at his attire, and he couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his heart at your approval.

And now as the day wore on, every time his elbow knocked into yours, your bodies stepping and swaying as you worked, Yoongi felt a heat build; a sizzling lick of electricity that was sparking between the two of you that he couldn’t ignore.

“You know,” he leans in, mouth inches from your ear as you grin widely at a customer. “I think we do make a pretty good team, Y/N.”

He relishes in the way your skin warms, in the way he watches your cheeks blush so prettily at his words, and feels hopefulness tighten his chest. 

“We do, Min Yoongi, especially now that you aren’t actively trying to ruin me.” You grit between frozen teeth, your smile unwavering until the patron is out of hearing range. 

“Hey, I didn’t try to ruin anything-”

“Okay, how about ‘mildly inconvenience’ then?”

Chuckling, he raises an arm to rub at the back of his neck, and you follow the lines in his arm as he does so, watching the rippling of muscles beneath the cuff of his rolled up sleeve with interest. 

“I guess that’s fair.”

It was amazing how well things turned out, how fast the day had blown by. Jin had slaved away in the kitchen making sure that there were enough baked goods for everyone, Jimin and Taehyung teaming up with Jungkook and Hoseok from the florist shop to run items back and forth and greet customers. 

But it was Yoongi who had stolen the air from your lungs and any sense you had left rattling in your head. 

You could see now why his business had flourished before you arrived, why the customers continued to return to him when they needed their next arrangement. He was such a good and intent listener, his eyes sharp and focused on whomever was speaking to him. Even in the case of the event, where the flowers were pre-arranged, he still listened, shook and held the hand of each buyer as they spoke, fawning over his flowers. 

It was evident he was passionate about his business, which made the fact that he had been willing to do whatever it took - including partnering up with you - even more admirable.

 The sun was going down by the time things seemed to slow, your hands aching from the intricate icing work and feet throbbing from running around in heels. It seemed that everyone had satisfied smiles of hard work etched on their faces, and pleasant adoration inflated your gut at the sight, especially when you landed on Yoongi. 

The edges of his mouth had finally relaxed, his eyes creasing into half moons more and more as he laughed, stress leaving his body. It was a beautiful sight, if you could admit such a thing.

When the final customer waved goodbye, heading down to the main street for the firework finale of the festival, you left the giddy boys out front to begin cleaning, bones aching at the prospect of all the dishes that needed to be done, but not wanting to drag out the pain any longer than necessary.

“Need some help?” Yoongi was posed in the doorway, arm pressing against the jam, one leg crossed over the other, as if it was normal for him to be effortlessly handsome in sweaty bakery kitchens.

“That would be great,” you smirk, tilting your head. “I wash, you dry?”

And so that’s how you find yourself alone with Yoongi, sweat dotting his hairline as he gives you side glances and small talk over drying mixing bowls. You talk about everything and nothing, conversation flowing freely, and you feel drunk on his proximity, on the way he talks with his hands, the way his voice pitches when he laughs. His white button down is transparent in the spots where water had hit, and even the hint of a peak of his skin made you feel a bit dizzy. 

“Thank you for helping me with all of this, by the way. It would have taken hours to do by myself.”

“It’s no big deal. Plus, I’m sure one of those guys out there would’ve came back if you batted your lashes,” he leers, nodding to indicate the young men of both businesses that were currently playing around out front. “Especially Jungkook. He’s been all ‘Y/N noona this, Y/N noona that’ ever since he met you.”

Handing him a dish, you look up at him through your lashes, blinking coquettishly. “Well, can you blame him? I mean, just look at me. All this and I can cook? I’m the full package.”

You were joking; a teasing lilt to your voice as you refocused on the task at hand, but you could feel the intensity of his stare heating you thoroughly, forcing you to meet his eyes once more. 

“You really are,” he murmurs, voice low but clear, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re funny and talented and so smart that it’s kind of intimidating,” he looks back at the pot in his hand, drying it thoroughly before setting it aside. “But you’re also kind hearted, and willing to listen and help those in need, even when you barely know them.”

He turns then, stepping closer until his breath is fanning across your cheek, his arms caging you to the sink as you turn to face him fully. 

“Not to mention, you’re more beautiful than any flower I’ve ever seen.”

Dropping your head to stifle the giggles, you hear him wince loudly.

“That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

Nodding, you meet his eyes once more. “It was, but I have a few baking puns that will make you cringe.”

“Hit me with one.” 

Raising on your toes, you lean into him, tentatively placing a palm on his chest. “Is that a baguette in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

His shoulders start shaking before he lets out a loud laugh, smile widening to show his teeth in a way that made your heart flip. Catching his breath, he sighs, leaning to rest his forehead against yours.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Wanna find out?”

Kissing Min Yoongi was a whirlwind, a focused intensity pressed in a powerful dance of his mouth on yours. Your lips answered in kind effortlessly, needing no prompting to follow his lead, to pull his bottom lip between your teeth. Electricity sparks at the base of your skull with each touch of his pout, each lick of his tongue into your mouth, and you feel your knees threaten to give out as he cradles your jaw in his hand, holding you in place.

You aren’t sure when your hands had tangled in his hair, or when he had lifted you to straddle his waist, but you found yourself moving, his body twisting to place you on the cool metal surface of your work space. Hissing as the chill bit into your bare legs, you seek the warmth of his mouth harder, legs wrapping around his form to tug him closer to you, to grind your center against him. 

He’s hard, impossibly hard, and he’s whispering all the things he wants to do to you in the shell of your ear, promising all the things he’ll make you feel with his tongue, his cock. You pull him back to your mouth, kissing him deeper, gasping when he dips his finger in the open icing container on the table, dragging it from the edge of your lips down to your chest.

He trails down your throat, sucking and nipping a marked path to your collarbone, licking the frosting off as he goes -  as if it was the sweetest thing - until he reaches your breasts, cupping them. As you pant out groans of his name, you can’t help but think you’re glad that it’s Yoongi who’s hiking your dress up around your waist, that he is the first man to help you defile your quaint bakery’s kitchen, filling it with moans.

It isn’t until you stumble out just shy of an hour later hand in hand with Yoongi, smelling of sex with mussed hair and lips swollen, that you remember your coworkers - and that little window that shows the spacious floor plan of said kitchen. 

Taehyung is shaking his head, tsking quietly with his arm draped around Jungkook. “Shame on you, Y/N. Poor Kookie here was just trying to bring the tables inside to be helpful, and instead he got traumatized.”

Namjoon scoffs then, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realize ‘getting a boner’ was now considered trauma.”

“Hey!” Jungkook yells, eyes darting between you and Yoongi. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

Cheeks flushing, you stifle a giggle once more, looking over to the blonde man whose fingers were still intertwined tightly with your own. Instead of embarrassment, or concern, you just feel a giddy flush of joy as you lean into him.

Yoongi sighs, exasperated, free palm rising to rub at the back of his neck. “Remind me again why I don’t fire them?”

“Because you love them. And, they work for cheap.”

Chuckling, he turns towards you, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I always knew I liked you.”

[tiffdawg]

The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer. 

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip. 

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight. 

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

. 

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!” 

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?” 

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.” 

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?” 

“Anything,” he responded quickly.  

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word. 

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.  

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din. 

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

 .

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

 “What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.” 

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him. 

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips. 

“Last time–” 

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.” 

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

 “Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed. 

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.” 

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated. 

“Anything?” 

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.” 

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.” 

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted. 

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night. 

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped. 

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed. 

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both. 

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

 “Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?” 

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”     

“Of your future on Lah’mu?” 

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.” 

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction. 

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him. 

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss. 

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

.

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire. 

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling. 

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.” 

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

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[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 2

WARNINGS: bad parenting, Bill being awkward, Fred, George and Charlie being the best siblings 🤭

Chapter 2 - Bill's Surprise

“Did you pack your books?”

“What books?” Theodora asked her mother, puzzled.

“For school.” Mrs. Cork sighed.

“Why would I need my school books for the summer?” Theodora frowned. “I am coming back home before the school year starts.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to revise a little.” Mrs. Cork crossed her arms on her chest.

“Mum, I’m doing fine at school.” Theodora tried hard not to roll her eyes.

She got 6 O.W.L.s in her fifth year and she passed all her classes with better marks than she expected and her mother was still nagging her. She is comparing her youngest to her eldest too much. Theodora’s brother was the best in his year in every class and he’s getting a promotion at work.

Theodora has been home for 14 days and it’s all her mother talks about. Theodora found out about the promotion before anyone else because Eric wrote to her the second he got the news.

As much as she’s happy for him, that much her mother is getting on her nerves for it. She might be 17 but Mrs. Cork still acts as if she’s 11 and is hoping Theodora might follow her brother’s footsteps or at least go back to her dream when she was a second-year – becoming a Curse Breaker.

Theodora still remembers the conversation she had with her mother last year when she told her that she is not joining Eric in America nor going to work for the Wizarding Bank. She was mustering the courage to tell her she changed her mind for a week before sitting her down and to say that her mother was disappointed in her decision was an understatement.

Theodora knew she isn’t going to support her new career choice but she didn’t care. She found her passion and she is going to follow it. Dad did the same – an inspired Magizoologist trying to write a book about all magical creatures in Asia. And what did her mother do when he told her about his journey? She filed for divorce instead of supporting him.

The only thing Theodora and Eric have of their dad now is his monthly letters and a few pictures per year as their mother doesn't even allow him to visit.

Theodora used to ask herself why Eric didn’t take an Auror job here in England. Why go all the way across the Atlantic? Now that she saw her mother in her true form – being alone with her ever since Eric finished school – she understood that he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

“You can always do better.” Mrs. Cork pursed her lips, watching her daughter’s every move while she was putting clothes in her trunk.

“I’ll take the books if it’ll make you happy.” Theodora tried her hardest to keep her voice casual.

The last thing she needed was for her mother to change her mind and her being stuck in this house with her because of it.

“Molly will write to me every week to let me know how you are behaving. You be nice while you’re there and don’t you dare step out of line.” Mrs. Cork raised her voice.

“Ok, mum.” Theodora bowed her head.

She couldn’t wait to spend the Summer at the Burrow with her best friends and their siblings. Mrs. Weasley is strict but at least she is a loving mum.

Theodora didn’t even bother to wait and see if her mother is going to hug her. She took the trunk outside, took her jacket off the hanger just in case there would be a chilly summer night, and turned to the door where her mother stood, her arms still crossed on her chest.

If Theodora didn’t know any better, she would say that she was judging her. She hated how her mother watched her every movement and thanked Godric – for what seemed the tenth time this morning – that the twins convinced her to spend the summer at the Burrow.

“Well, bye.” Theodora waved awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

Her mother gave a small nod and after a sigh, Theodora apparated to her summer destination.

—

“What’s wrong?”

The second Theodora appeared in front of the Burrow the twins came out of the house. She was half an hour late and they have been looking through the window, awaiting her arrival.

Fred took her trunk without even asking, taking it inside, while George stayed behind, his hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to answer his question.

“Thank you.” Was all she said, pulling George into a tight hug.

At first, it seemed like a good idea but when she felt her eyes burn, ready to release the tears, she quickly pulled away. She didn’t want to cry in front of him.

She only did so once, when she broke up with her boyfriend last year, and the second a tear ran down her cheek, Fred and George had their wands ready, prepared to hex the hell out of the boy who broke her heart.

“That bad, huh?” George put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head to look her in the eyes.

“You have no idea.” Theodora shook her head. “She’s insane. No wonder dad left.”

“Whoa, what happened?” Fred said from the doorway. “Did she give you a hard time again?” He frowned.

Theodora only nodded. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to talk about it.

“Come on, let’s get you in. Mum just made lemonade and we can talk about it in our room.” Fred grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

He swung his hand, inviting her inside. The second she stepped through the door, she started to feel better. The whole house smelled like roast beef and baked potatoes. If her mother allowed her, she would be here all the time and probably only go home when Eric would come to visit from America.

“Theodora, dear. Welcome back!” Before she could take another step Molly welcomed her with one of her famous embraces. “Arthur and I were just discussing this morning when was the last time you were here.”

“The summer after our second year.” Theodora smiled widely.

Mrs. Weasley made her feel so welcomed that she already felt better.

“She was only here once, mum,” Fred added.

“You have to come more often, dear. You might just be the only person to keep these two in line.” Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and looked at the twins.

Theodora giggled upon seeing the irritated expression on Fred and George’s faces.

“Where’s your trunk?” Their mum asked after looking for it on the floor.

“I already took it to our room,” Fred answered for her.

“Your room?” Molly frowned. “Don’t even think about it! Theodora will stay with Ginny.”

“Oh, come on, mum!” George whined. “You know we’re only friends. We’re just going to work,” he bit his tongue at the last second as he forgot that their mum had no idea what the trio had in store for this summer, “on stuff.”

“You know the rules, George.” Molly raised her voice. “She is sleeping in Ginny’s room and that’s final.” With that, she turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, we’ll sneak you in our room when she goes to sleep,” Fred whispered to Theodora, making her giggle.

Before she could even ask where the others are, she was dragged into the twins’ room.

“We have about three hours before supper and we need your help.” George sat on the floor.

Theodora was surprised he found a spot that wasn’t covered with their products, prototypes, wrappers, or parts.

“What’s on your mind?” Theodora pushed a big box with Boxing Telescopes away so she could sit down next to George.

“We have been trying for days to make the Screaming Yo-yo stop screaming.” Fred sighed and opened the drawer of his desk.

“Isn’t that the point?” Theodora chuckled.

“The yo-yo is supposed to scream when you release it but stop once it’s wrapped up again,” George explained.

“Didn’t we already fix this?” Theodora tried to remember.

They have been working and developing so many new products over the past year that some of them have been a blur for Theodora. She remembers all too well getting punched by one of those telescopes in the box. She remembers how happy they were when their Smoke Pastille finally had the right thickness of the smoke.

With Arthur’s help, without him even knowing about it, they perfected the Electric Shock Shake and she could swear the yo-yo already gave them trouble.

“We fixed the fact that it doesn’t fall apart once you roll it up and down twice.” Fred rubbed his chin.

“But now it doesn’t stop screaming even if one puts it down.” George frowned, now holding one in his hand.

“Can we do a timed Silencing Charm?” Theodora thought out loud.

“Explain,” the twins said together, sitting closer to her.

“Well, we want the yo-yo only to scream once unrolled, right?” They both nodded. “So all we would have to do is put a Silencing Charm on it in a way that it mutes the screaming when the string rolls back up.”

Theodora didn’t know what to make of their faces. Fred was staring at her, his eyes wide open. George’s eyes switched between her and the yo-yo in his hand, forgetting how to close his mouth.

“That’s brilliant.” The twins said in unison.

“So you know how to do it?” Theodora sounded impressed.

“Nah,” George swung his hand, “we’ll ask Bill after dinner. He’s good with Charms.”

“Let me try.” Theodora took the yo-yo out of George’s hand.

She would rather spend an entire night trying to fix the product on her own than work with Bill on it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough around him to pull anything off.

Theodora has been nervous for days now, knowing Bill is coming home. She hated feeling this way but she couldn’t help it either. She kept wondering how Bill looks like now and if he is as sweet as she remembers him being.

Last night, before coming here, she couldn’t stop thinking about him and she tried figuring out why was she so hooked on the eldest Weasley. Was it because he looked so cool in his leather jacket or because he was a Curse Breaker? Was it because he was cute or simply because he was so much older than her?

No matter how much she tried beating her head around it, she couldn’t figure it out, which only made her more nervous.

—

“Blimey, Theo, you did it!” George gasped when they tried spinning the yo-yo for what seemed like the 100th time.

Their ears were hurting and their eyes were burning not taking a break since they started. After trying the Silencing Charm more times they could count and casting it on different parts of the yo-yo, Theodora’s last attempt did the trick.

“Dinner!” They heard Molly shout from downstairs.

Theodora put her hands over her face, trying to close her eyes for a few seconds. She didn’t want to come down looking like a mummy.

“Race you downstairs!” George laughed and hastily opened the door.

“Child,” Fred said with a smile on his face and ran after his brother.

Theodora did the same and they pushed each other on their way down, all trying to get to the kitchen first. Because of Fred’s hand over his face, George didn’t see Theodora move in front of him and he stumbled across her leg and started rolling down the stairs.

Panicking, he grabbed his brother by the shirt and pulled him with him. Fred didn’t want to be the only one falling so he put his hand around Theodora and they landed at the bottom of the stairs as if a bowling ball hit the pins.

One look at one another and they all started laughing. They tried getting up but their legs were somehow tangled and instead of trying harder they only laughed louder.

“Idiots.” A familiar voice made Theodora look up.

“Charlie!” She exclaimed.

Charlie who was leaning on a pillar next to the stairs pushed himself away, took a step closer, and offered Theodora a hand to help her get up.

“I will ask you again, why are you friends with these two?” He asked, pointing at the twins.

“They grew on me.” Theodora shrugged her shoulders playfully before giving Charlie a hug.

“I missed you, Theo. When are you coming to visit me in Romania?” Charlie grinned.

“Back off, Charlie, she’s our friend.” Fred teased his older brother.

“Hi.” The four of them turned around to see Bill standing in the doorway.

Theodora’s heart started beating faster. All her hope that her silly crush on Bill ended was diminished within seconds. She has been mentally preparing to see Bill again, but she was not ready at all for what she was looking at.

Bill’s hair was in a loose ponytail, gracefully falling over his shoulder. He had a fang earring and his left eyebrow was halved. He was wearing a different leather jacket then she remembered, along with black jeans, and were those leather boots?

She opened her mouth to say something but with her heart in her throat she couldn’t even sigh.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Bill said politely.

His gentle smile weakened her knees and suddenly the idea of spending the entire summer alone with her mother didn’t seem that bad. How will she be able to be around him for 2 whole months? She knew herself too well to know she won’t have the strength to do it.

Bill took a step toward her and offered his hand to shake. Theodora shook her head, trying to focus but got confused. Did Bill not remember her?

Her heart sank. Even if she wanted to she couldn’t deny that if that was the case, it hurt. She might not have been at the Burrow for years but is she that unmemorable?

Her palms were sweaty due to how nervous she was, so she wiped them in her jeans before extending her hand at Bill, not knowing what else to do. It’s better she goes along with it, pretending that she doesn’t know who he is either than making a fool out of herself by mocking him how he doesn’t remember her.

Before their hands could come together into a handshake, Fred put his fingers around her wrist, taking her hand away.

“Bill, have you fallen off a pyramid? Don’t you remember Theo?” He looked at his eldest brother with a raised brow.

“Theodora?” Bill sounded astounded.

He blinked at her a few times, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.

Theodora looked at the other three Weasley brothers, not knowing what to do or say. Charlie was biting his lip, red in the face trying hard not to burst out laughing. Fred slammed his hand against his forehead and George’s eyes were filling with tears as he too, was trying to keep his mouth closed. If she was completely honest, she had no idea what exactly was happening.

“Hey.” She waved awkwardly at Bill.

“You...you’ve changed,” Bill mumbled, still completely awestruck, realizing the girl he is looking at isn’t 13 anymore.

“Thanks.” Theodora couldn’t get rid of the puzzled expression on her face.

“I...I mean...you...you’re all grown up.” Bill breathed.

He was acting as if it was strange that she is now taller, more developed and her hair is longer. Bill couldn’t believe how much she changed. She was barely a teenager when he last saw her and he remembers how passionate she was about Curse Breaking asking him different questions for days.

He loved answering every single one of them because she reminded him so much of Charlie when he was talking about dragons.

This hairdo was better than the bangs and the bob she had back then. She was cuter with longer hair, beautiful even. Bill tried to remember if she was really the same age as his two younger brothers. Standing next to them, she looked at least two years older than them. She wasn’t a girl anymore, she was a grown-up woman.

Charlie and the twins couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore and were now standing behind Theodora gasping for air. They couldn’t believe Bill didn’t recognize her. The last time Charlie saw her was also that summer that she stayed over but he didn’t have trouble remembering who she was.

“Are you going to say you recognized her at once?” Bill rolled his eyes, annoyed that they were making fun out of him.

“Yes! I don’t know what you were looking at.” Charlie came closer to Bill and put his arm around his shoulder.

“I...” Bill’s jaw dropped, scanning Theodora with his eyes again. “Oh, shut up.”

“I can’t believe you actually wanted to introduce yourself to her.” Fred was clutching at his stomach, still laughing.

“And you used your special charming smile on her too!” George added.

“I did not!” Bill tried defending himself, his face red as a tomato.

“Oh, you totally did.” Charlie joined in on the teasing.

Bill shook his shoulders, making Charlie’s arm fall off them. Why did he decide to spend half of his summer at home was beyond him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, Theodora.” He turned to her, looking embarrassed.

“It’s okay.” She chuckled. “It happens.”

She still didn’t know what to think of it. It can’t be a good thing that he didn’t remember her at all. But then again why should she care, Bill was too cool and too old for her anyway. She is just being silly.

“How did you know who she was?” Bill turned to Charlie.

“She joined the Quidditch team when I was in my seventh year. One of the best Chasers I had a chance to play with.” He grinned at Theodora.

That compliment meant a lot to her. Even though she didn’t plan to pursue Quidditch professionally she still loved the sport and she couldn’t wait for the tournament.

“Oh, Charlie that reminds me...” This was her chance to stir the conversation in a different direction. This whole fiasco has been awkward enough as it was, she didn’t want to be reminded once more that Bill was completely clueless about who she was. “...I apologize for not answering your last letter. I knew you were going to be at the Burrow.”

“No problem, Theo.” Charlie swung his hand, letting her know she shouldn’t worry about it.

“You two send each other letters?” Fred and George said together. “You didn’t tell them?” Charlie giggled.

This was all too amusing to him and just reminded him more how much he missed hanging out with his siblings.

“I thought you knew.” Theodora frowned at the twins. “I open all his letters in front of you every time.”

“You sign your name as Charles when you write to her?” Fred chortled.

“You’re the one who came up with the fire-breathing toffees?” George’s mouth fell open.

They knew all about Theodora’s letters to Charles but since their older brother always signed the letters to them as Charlie, they thought Theodora either had an uncle or a pen pal with the same name.

Bill was the big brother, the one they were supposed to fear, the one who was in charge when mum and dad weren’t home, the one who got mad at them. Charlie was the big brother that secretly sneaked cookies into their room even when mum said that they ate too many already. He was the brother that lied for them when he was still a Prefect at school and never deducted any points because of their shenanigans.

The second George connected the dots, remembering when Theodora gave them the brilliant idea about the fire-breathing toffees and she said that Charlie came up with them, he was beyond surprised.

“Honestly,” George turned his head to his twin, “we should’ve figured that one out.”

Fred simply shrugged in reply. It didn’t matter. Their brother came up with one of the best products they’ve made in months and he kept their idea — of opening a joke shop once they finish school — from mum.

Besides, the twins knew how much talking to Charlie meant to Theodora. Her brother was often on missions, where the letters couldn’t reach him so she was lucky if she got a letter or two per month. Corresponding with Charlie on a weekly basis made her miss her brother less and if that made their best friend’s day better they are willing to share their sibling with her.

“Are you still playing?” Bill turned to Theodora the second they sat down at the table.

“Yeah and hopefully next year as well.” Theodora grinned, happy to see Bill expressing interest in her.

“You should have seen her, Charlie!” Fred said with his mouth full.

“She scored half of the goals at the last game!” George added.

“You showed talent from the start and I was happy I decided to put you on the team,” Charlie said proudly.

“Are you going to play Quidditch after school or are you still interested in Curse Breaking?” Bill asked.

Theodora didn’t know in which direction to turn. She was still blushing from the compliment Charlie gave her but she wanted to talk to Bill more than anyone.

“Why are you asking, William?” Fred said in a mocking voice before Theodora could answer.

“Want her all for yourself in Egypt, huh?” George joined in.

The twins started laughing, George almost suffocating on a piece of potato, when Charlie started whistling and winking at his older brother. Theodora tried not to giggle.

This was all too amusing to her and she couldn’t help but wish that their entire summer would be like this. Hopefully, not teasing Bill as much as he was rather uncomfortable – sitting next to her – but them being together and having fun. This was just what she needed after spending 14 days alone with her mother.

“Can’t I even ask her a question without you being gits?” Bill ran a hand over his face, ready to leave the kitchen.

“Sit back down, William, and eat your dinner.” Molly pointed a fork at her eldest and with a sigh, he sat back down.

“Are you kids excited about the Weasley Quidditch Tournament?” Bill has never been so grateful for his father to speak during dinner.

“Yes!” The twins jumped in their seats.

“Charlie will be our Seeker,” Fred said proudly.

“We’re the Beaters.” George followed.

“Well, Theo has to be one of our Chasers. There’s no arguing about that.” Charlie grinned at Theodora.

“Will you allow Ginny to play, mum?” George turned to his mother, making puppy eyes.

“I suppose so.” Molly sighed. “We’ll all be there to watch, so it’s fine.”

Everyone turned to Ginny, who was quietly playing with a piece of meat on her plate. She looked up when she heard her mum say that she could play and her cheeks turned scarlet. She couldn’t believe it! She’ll be allowed to play at the tournament? Along with all of her brothers?

She started shaking in her seat as Charlie, who was sitting next to her, put his arm around her, giggling to see how excited his little sister was.

“So, Ron’s going to be the Keeper then?” Mr. Weasley questioned.

“Of course, who else!” Ron lifted his head proudly.

Most of the times the Weasley siblings were playing Quidditch in their backyard, Ron played as a Keeper and he was getting rather good at it too. Of course, he couldn’t deny that if Theodora was on the opposite team he would feel too intimidated to play.

He attended most friendly matches and every cup game since his friend Harry made the team and he saw how amazing Theodora is with scoring goals. The Gryffindor team wouldn’t have won the cup this year if it wasn’t for her.

“Brilliant, we just need one more Chaser.” Fred clapped his hands together.

“Are you playing?” Theodora turned to Bill.

“Of course!” Bill blurted out.

He wasn’t planning on it but seeing how excited Theodora was, asking him if he will be on their team, he wanted to join at once. He was a bit rusty and hasn’t used a broom in a long time – exploring tombs and pyramids doesn’t exactly need flying experience.

Suddenly, he was very grateful for coming home earlier and not just for the game as he initially planned. He could use some flying lessons from Charlie and a few hours of practice. Hopefully, Theodora won’t be around while he embarrasses himself on the broom.

But on the second hand, why should he care what she thinks of him?

“Are you sure you’ll be able to play?” Charlie whispered to Bill.

“Yeah, why not?” Bill leaned to him.

“Will you be able to play alongside Theo if you already can’t take your eyes off her?”

At those words, Bill turned his head to his brother, frowning. Charlie winked at him and nodded his head at Theodora.

“Oh, bugger off, will you,” Bill muttered, trying not to look at her again, but no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept escaping to her for the rest of the evening.

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

[donutloverxo]

New Beginnings

Authors note- I promised you filth now I’m gonna deliver😈. Can be read as a sequel to white horse or a stand alone.

I’m sorry for subjecting y'all to this

Please like, comment and reblog 💕

Please do not steal steal or repost my content.

Summary- You and Steve are ready to take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings- smut, loss of virginity, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, dub con(if you squint impossibly hard)

Word count- 2.5k (scroll to the middle if you wanna skip to smut)

masterlist

It had been over two weeks since the incident at the club. You were still traumatised from it. You felt a bit guilty about it, Steve and your other friends had been through so much worse their entire lives but you barely ever see them complaining about it.

And really it wasn’t even that bad. You didn’t have a single scratch from it, you had no right to feel so scared. You weren’t some dainty precious coward princess.

You woke up heaving and gasping for breathe. It was the same nightmare third night in a row. This time you were being held hostage in a bank robbery. It was always some variation of what had happened at the club. You looked at the time on your phone. It was 2 am.

Steve was in London. He’d be awake right now. He had been extremely patient with you. He insisted he didn’t have to go on the mission, he wanted to take care of you. But you didn’t want to take advantage of his caring nature insisted he go and you’d call him if anything goes wrong.

You stared at his contact in your phone contemplating the idea. You didn’t want him to worry, but at the same time you would hope he shared his troubling thoughts with you. You can’t expect him to be completely vulnerable with you without doing the same yourself.

Finally you sighed and called him. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey doll.”

“Hey Stevie”, you smiled staring out your window from your bed. Really it was ridiculous how just hearing his voice made you feel calm and safe.

“How come you aren’t asleep?”, he asked and you could hear some shuffling in his background. Maybe he sneaked away from his teammates.

“I… I had a nightmare sort of.” You said playing with the strings on your sweatpants. “it’s really nothing. I mean you’re out there saving the world and I’m still stuck on something that happened weeks ago.”

He breathed your name almost as a way to scold you. “Don’t say that. You’re allowed to be scared. It’s completely normal”, you hummed to that and closed your eyes. His steady breathing making your sleepy. “actually I have to talk to you about that. I was going to wait till I got home and ask you over dinner.”

You moaned forcing your eyes open “what?”

“Well Nat and Sam are moving in the tower. I had an apartment there a while ago but then… It wasn’t for me. It has one of the best security systems in the world. You’ll be completely safe there”, he said and hesitated “maybe we could move in there. Together?”

You were wide awake now. Living in the tower would be amazing since it’s closer to work but living with Steve? Waking up next to him every morning, snuggling him every chance you get. That really sounds like a dream.

“Yes”, you blurt out.

“Really? You don’t want time to think about it?”, he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No. I think it’s an amazing idea.”

“Well then I can’t wait”

“Me neither”, you replied and drifted off to a dreamless slumber.

Over the next month you left your studio apartment and moved your things to the much larger penthouse. It was quiet high up. You would have to get used to the height.

You asked your doctor to start you on the pill. Tony Stark had offered you a position to work as a tech in the Avengers tower. It was your dream job. You had no intentions to get pregnant right now. But the idea of having kids with the super soldier wasn’t completely repulsive… One thing at a time!

Regardless of you taking the pill or not. You wouldn’t get pregnant because despite dating for over four months you and Steve hadn’t had sex. Was that weird? You were living and planning your future with a man you hadn’t slept with?

You had some steamy make out sessions when you’d grab his hand and make him grope you. When you felt his erection poking your thighs through his pants. That excited you and scared you at the same time. He felt so big. You were excited to see what he looked like but would it actually go in? That was a silly thought really.

He had confessed to you that he was a virgin and he was just looking for the right partner. You had some experience in the field but the fact that he didn’t put some pressure on you. What if he found you lacking in some way? You weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world.

Besides sex wasn’t your best friend. Although you liked the idea of it, it was kind of overrated. You had done it too soon in your previous relationships, and you were the kind of person that learns from her mistakes.

You were snuggling with Steve watching Netflix when a steamy scene came on. It wasn’t too graphic but extremely aesthetically pleasing. You felt Steve shift his hips under you.

“You know, I went to the doctor today. She started me on the pill.” You had to be brave. Just how long were you going to wait. After a couple of glasses of wine you had some liquid courage in you.

He hummed as a way to acknowledge you. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

You smiled to yourself and switched off the tv.

Steve looked at you lighting some scented candles in the bedroom. ‘To set the mood’ apparently. He felt his whole life flash before his eyes.

How as a small sickly boy he felt vaguely jealous of his best friend Bucky. He never looked good enough standing next to him. He never really looked good anyway. If girls did talk to him it was because of Bucky.

He now cringed whenever he thought of those double dates. Where his date looked like she’d be anywhere in the world but with him. While Bucky’s date looked at him as if he was her world.

After the serum he was able to get the kind of body women fawned after. He had many women throw themselves at him. But there was no way to tell if it was genuine. If they saw him, the poor sick kid from Brooklyn, or if they saw the fame and glory of Captain America.

But then he met you. The first time you looked at him, really looked at him, he felt as if he was being truly seen for the first time in his life. You didn’t care so much about Captain America or the serum, you cared about him, listened to him and saw him.

It was as if part of him was missing for so long, that he found in you. He didn’t know how he ever lived without you. Now he would gladly give up the shield and everything that came with it to be with you.

He looked at you staring expectedly at him, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

He had little to no knowledge about sex or women in general.

He remembered how sneaked a peak at Bucky and a girl out of curiosity. He saw Bucky’s head between the girls legs. He ran away before he could see anymore.

When he asked Bucky what it was like he’d give him advice on how to please a woman, as if he was ever going to use it, until now.

‘Just remember to get her off at least once before you, tis only fair’

He swallowed when he looked at your figure. It definitely was extremely hard to wait to be with you for so long. He had thought and dreamed of this moment since he met you.

He recalled all the times he got embarrassingly hard at the slightest tough from you. He hoped and prayed that you hadn’t noticed, or maybe you did notice and liked it, why else would you be here?

All he’d ever done was made out with a few women. And there was that time Tony gifted him a rubber toy that resembled a woman’s bits as a crude and mean joke. He would never admit it but he did use it once before throwing it away. It was good…he couldn’t imagine how much better a real woman would feel, how much better you would feel.

You got tired of waiting and him staring at you with a blank face and crawled to him to the edge of the bed. You cradled his face in your hands and stared into his sea green orbs. You placed a kiss on his slightly cold soft lips. You felt his hands reach and squeeze your hips.

His hands roamed all over your body greedily taking in everything. He manoeuvred you till your head hit the pillow. He took off his shirt exposing his burly physique to you. You sat up and touched his pecs, your fingers gliding down tracing his abs.

You took off your nightgown and tossed it away. You watched him stare at you in awe. His hands shakily touched them and fondled them. He grazed your nipples under his thumb. They grew harder with his touch. He curiously squeezed them between his thumb and finger. He looked up at your face when he heard to gasp. His was growing harder and more impatient by the second.

He pushed you down on the bed. He kissed down your body, between your breath, then finally to your mould covered by your panties. He slid your panties off your legs. You awkwardly closed your legs shut. He sensed your discomfort and took off his pants and boxers.

Before you could see him he pushed your legs open and knelt down. He was awestruck looking at your pussy. Your juices glistening in the lowlight made his mouth water.

“Wait”, you exclaimed “no one… no ones ever” you babbled shaking your head.

He pushed you down. The fact that he can do anything to you, manhandle you however he likes, evoked something primal in him. He stuck his tongue out and tentatively to lick a stripe up your lips. You gasped and clasped onto his head.

He licked a few stripes as you thrashed and squirmed on the bed. You were making his job harder for him. He put his palm on your stomach to hold you still. He sucked your nub and you moaned. He went back and forth between sucking your nub harshly and licking fast quick strips.

You pushed his head in your pussy and latched onto it with both your hands as you came. You felt breathless and weightless, as if you were floating on a cloud.

He lapped at you before moving to kiss you. He got worried when he saw tears in your eyes. He wiped them with his thumb. “Hey what’s wrong?”, he had gotten too excited and lost himself in the moment.

This was completely new territory to you. You had never felt this before. None of your ex boyfriends had ever went down on you or made you come. That was such a mind blowing orgasm. You wondered if you had actually had a real orgasm before.

“I’m perfectly fine.”, you said and gave him a hazy smile. “it’s your turn now.”

You pushed him up by his pecs and sat up on your knees in front of him. You looked down and saw his cock hard and up against his stomach. It was the biggest and prettiest you had ever seen.

You grabbed it with both your hand and gave it a few strokes and pulls. “It’s so big”, you cooed.

He was extremely thankful to the serum in that moment. The way you looked at it and tugged at it, as if it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your compliment stroked his ego.

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and still struggled to fit him in it. You sucked at his tip and stroked the parts you couldn’t reach, which was more than half of it.

He bunched up your hair in his hand and groaned, trying to hold on from cuming in your mouth. It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to get hard again, what with you sitting right there naked as the day you were born, but he had other ideas.

He pushed your head away and tried to hold on by taking a few breathes. He bent down to kiss you, tasting himself on his mouth. You moaned in his mouth.

He broke the kiss to see you touching yourself. He wondered if you had been touching yourself with him in your mouth. Were you so desperate for him?

You slid two fingers in your pussy and smiled at his furrowed brows looking almost hypnotised by your pussy. “I’m afraid you won’t fit”, you giggled still on a high from your previous orgasm. “wanna taste?”, you asked and brought your fingers near his mouth.

He opened his mouth and sucked harshly on your fingers. Savoring your taste.

You climbed onto his lap staring into his eyes. You stroked his cock and lined him up to your pussy.

“I love you”, he said and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You bent down slowly and took him inch by inch in your pussy. “I love you too”, you moaned.

Having you around him, being inside you surrounded by your heat, felt as close to heaven as he would ever get. You were tight and snug and perfect. More perfect than he ever could’ve imagined or dreamed.

You bounced on his cock increasing the pace slowly and steadily. You kissed his shoulder then sucked on his earlobe.

You adjusted your hips to rub your clit on his pelvis with his cock hitting your g-stop you were on your way to your second orgasm. “Oh I’m gonna cum”, you breathed out in his ear.

“Do it, use me, cum on me”

You faltered and stopped gushing down his cock and screaming.

He laid you on the bed and started thrusting into you. You were still breathless and delirious from your orgasm.

He was always fascinated by how small and petite you were. With you under him and him draped over you, looking down at your face, he was sure that all you could see and feel was him.

He grabbed your hips and pushed harder into you. He was sure to leave bruises. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a reminder, for you, that you belong to him and him alone.

“Come on doll one more”, he was determined to bring you off one more time.

You moaned at him and wrapped yourself around him. You screamed and felt the knot in your belly release.

He hips stuttered, you felt him come inside you, his warm cum coating your walls.

He pulled out of you and laid down beside you trying to catch his breathe. You snuggled into his side and closed your eyes.

Maybe being here with you was a way the universe was paying him back for all the years he’d lost.

[wouldduskwood]

Taken Identity Part 2 Option 2

I stared at my phone for a second then put it away. Sarah wouldn’t be happy if I contacted her at work. She had made that perfectly clear on more than one occasion. Her father was the owner, my boss in fact, and she pulled long hours to help him run the business. Sighing, I decided it was probably best to leave her to it. Instead, I took myself through to the home office I had created and switched on my computer set up. As I watched the screens flicker to life, I hummed quietly to myself, trying to take away the stillness of the night. Emptiness. Nothingness. It was doing nothing to help rid me of the confusion of my mother’s passing.

I looked briefly at the case I was currently working on and decided it could wait. I didn’t really want to make any mistakes. Instead, I decided to have a play around and see what I could stumble on that looked interesting. As I mucked around, I received a message from someone I had pulled a few jobs with in the past. He was after a backup hacker that could wipe his digital fingerprints clean. Opening an encrypted chat, I asked what it was that he was trying to accomplish. I had been doing my best to keep my nose fairly clean since securing my job. Technically it was against my contract to lend my talents to illegal activities.

Ph4N70M

Nym0s - What’s the job?

Ph4N70M - Looking into my girl’s actions. Something fishy going on. You know? Nym0s - What actions?

Ph4N70M - Think she’s cheating on me and using my money to do it.

Nym0s - Oh shit. Yeah I can help out.

We spent the rest of the evening digging up dirt. The problem with these types of hacks was that the more digging we did, the more we found and the more emotions were stirred up. It was often a lose, lose game. Still, it felt good to be using my powers to help the little guy, so to speak, rather than the larger corporations that I had been stuck bailing out since I began my employment. This sort of thing is why it is so much easier for hackers to trust people than to be trusted. For the most part, we could dig up whatever we wanted from people. If we tried hard enough, we could bring up everything from long forgotten social media data to bank records, though the latter was a lot more challenging due to the amount of encryption.

Finally, after we had gathered enough data to show that his suspicions were justified, he logged off to deal with his life and I was left alone. Somehow Sarah still had not arrived home. After working for so long investigating a cheating girlfriend, I began to wonder what she was up to. ‘No, stop it,’ I growled to myself. ‘She’s just helping her Dad. You’re going crazy. Don’t give her reason to hate you. It’s all about building that trust in you now. If you investigate her and find nothing, you’re intruding on her privacy.’ I argued with myself. Eventually, I fell asleep in front of my computer.

Waking early in the morning, I shook my head a few times then poked my head into our bedroom, wanting to see Sarah. I was still feeling uneasy and wasn’t sure what to do next. I knew I had to begin planning for Mum’s funeral, but the thought wasn’t at all appealing. Sarah was asleep in a bra and panties. I went into the room and lay beside her, touching her gently and kissing her shoulder. “Mm,” she mumbled, so I took that as an encouraging sign and pressed myself against her, caressing her breast with one hand. As she pushed herself back against me, I rolled her over and kissed her. Finally, her eyes flickered open and she looked shocked for a second then angry. “Ugh, Jake, come on! I had a late night,” she moaned.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Uh...Mum died yesterday.”

“Oh,” she replied and didn’t say anything else. I wasn’t sure what she was waiting for so I continued speaking. “Uh, I’m not really sure what to do next. Ya know, it feels kind of weird.”

Sarah nodded. “Look babe, just call the funeral home and they can deal with it. Sorry but I have to go back into the office, it’s getting late and you know how busy we can get on a Friday.” As she finished speaking she headed towards the shower and I was left alone, once more.

‘Okay,’ I thought to myself. ‘Just do what comes next. Don’t worry about anything else.’ It was a good mantra. It forced me to shut down and just focus on next steps. No emotion. All logic. I’d call the funeral home once they were open. Let them handle all the decisions. After all, I had no clue what the woman actually wanted. Work wasn’t really a problem. I had taken another week off as I knew I would likely need the time to handle Mum’s affairs.

I considered hopping into the shower with Sarah to see if we could finish what we had started, but decided against it. She wasn’t exactly affectionate and just because I wanted closeness didn’t mean that she did. With nothing more to do than wait for the funeral home to open, I decided to make some breakfast for Sarah and myself. Cooking would hopefully at least take my mind off things. As I set about preparing scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, I heard the shower stop. I had just plated up when Sarah appeared, dressed in a skirt and blouse. I put a plate down in front of her and motioned for her to join me. “Oh, sorry hun but I can’t, I’m already late,” she blew me a kiss as she practically ran out the door.

Sighing, I set about eating my own breakfast then cleaned the mess I had made. I glanced at the time and saw that the funeral home would now be open, but I wasn’t really up to it yet, so instead I hopped in the shower, hoping to burn away some of the memories of the previous day.

Once the shower began to cool, I switched it off, dried quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist. Finally, I grabbed my phone and sat on the edge of the bed, pushing the button that would connect me to the funeral home and bring about a sense of finality in the whole situation. The call was answered quickly and professionally. There was an air of ‘we care’ around everything they said. Finally, they must have become frustrated with my lack of effort in decision making and the operator stated “It’s okay dear, we will handle it. We will call you with any other details that may be needed.” I thanked her and hung up, putting my head in my hands as I wondered what to do next.

Head to childhood home to put affairs in order

Handle financial affairs using the internet

[hes-writer]

Better Half (2)

Summary: Y/N is pregnant and Harry is not ready

Warnings: just angst 

Word Count: 2405 words

A/N: o god it’s been a long time. but here you go! i’m a bit rusty so please be kind <3  if you like it, let me know : D

It was hard enough for Y/N to accept Harry’s complete rejection of her pregnancy, but it was even worse seeing him walk away only to fly miles and miles apart from their little ‘family’. It had only been a few days since he had left and Y/N couldn’t help but let complete loneliness encompass every aspect of her life. 

He somehow managed to integrate himself from work, to school, to her family home, and being the love of her life--it wasn’t easy erasing his lingering presence completely, especially when mutual friends cluelessly asked her about his well-beings. Y/N hadn’t told anyone else about her state, but it would probably be out in the open soon enough in case the paparazzi caught pictures of her leaving the clinic. 

What she still could not grasp was his blatant decision to leave. It wasn’t like Y/N trapped him into having a baby--at least, she didn’t think so. Harry and Y/N talked about their future on late nights, while the lights were turned off and the only light illuminating them was the moon. They conversed about the prospect of their future; what they wanted at the moment and what they wanted later on. She missed those times when everything seemed to pass along delicately, where every second spent together would be a gust of pure and utter happiness. Y/N thought she took that for granted. 

----

Y/N knew that she had to move on, especially since she had yet to receive a message from him. She was stuck at home reading the basics of what not to do while pregnant, trying to wrap her mind around the minuscule details that could affect their baby. Somehow, she still found herself drifting to thoughts of him; what would they be doing now if he responded the way she thought he would? Would she be wrapped in his arms, his chin digging gently into her shoulder while his ring-clad hands covered the small bump on her body? Would he be double-checking every single thing she ate to make sure that it was good for the development of their baby?

Y/N sighed in the empty living room, her legs curling towards her body to keep warm, the blanket barely doing its job. Her laptop dimmed in brightness, signifying that she hadn’t scrolled in a while.

She realized she had to move on and go forward, but how was she supposed to do that? When everything she knew was him. Harry was a staple part of her life and they were together for quite a long time. Right now, it seemed as if she had no idea who he was anymore. His once caring nature that she was delighted with for the time they were together vanished into thin air. Harry wasn’t the same Harry and Y/N had no idea why. She didn’t know what she did to make him this way. 

She still loved him--that was no question-- but she had to love herself more. Still, it was hard to let go. Y/N never expected to be alone when she became pregnant. She just wanted an answer to the million questions buzzing in her head. How was she supposed to pull herself back together?

---

“Are we going to talk about this?” Y/N questioned frustratedly through the phone speaker. “I have to know if you want to be a part of this,”

The phone beeped, signaling that she had used up the minutes of leaving a message in his voicemail. For the past two months, Y/N received nothing from him, apart from the surprising addition to her bank account. Y/N knew that it was Harry’s way of being there for her, but it left a bitter taste in her tongue because she didn’t want money from him--she would find a way to figure out the expenses. She just wanted him to be there. His presence was something she craved for the past two months, yet he didn’t cave to her pleas. 

She was sick and tired of reading an ‘I’m busy’ response flash through her phone screen; so so sick of having to be redirected to voicemail when wanting to speak to him about something urgent. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised though, she hasn’t heard his voice when it was directed only to her. His interviews showcased a very happy Harry and although she should be glad that he wasn’t down in the dumps (like she was), Y/N was scowling at his brightly gleaming face for not sparing a few minutes for his girlfriend. Can she even call herself that?

Her eyes welled up with tears of frustration, hands just about to rip the wispy strands of hair floating near her hairline. Why couldn’t he talk to her? She wanted to know if he wished for her to send the ultrasound pictures to him. Y/N repeatedly asked herself if she should journal her experiences and send it to him--just so he could at least have the minimum compliance with this whole thing. Should she tell him about what the doctor told her? How their little baby was slowly growing features that she cannot wait to see-- if they looked more like her or Harry. Does he have the right to know what was happening to her body? Day by day, her breasts become tender; her back a little achier. And her emotions heightened to an extent where she cried about the little things that he used to do around their home. 

----

“The doctor said I have to keep a healthy diet to nourish our baby, H” Y/N’s voice drifted through the grand hotel room suite that Harry had been staying in for the past couple days. These rooms started to blur together recently, not much difference held the four walls except the city he was in. “It would be easier if you were here, you know? Would probably force me to eat my veggies,” Y/N chuckled jokingly, but Harry could sense a sadness in her undertone.

He frowned at her statement but chuckled softly just the same. She was prone to late-night snacking. The voicemail ends and another one begins. Harry shifted his back on the rough pillowcase. 

“Hey Harry,” He sat up at the sudden change in her tone. “I don’t know if you even listen to these but if I sound sick right now,” She coughed, “It’s because I am.”

Harry could feel worry bubbling up in his tummy. His instincts telling him to book the next flight home and take care of her. With a quick glance at the timestamp of the voice note, he deflated seeing that it was sent about a week ago.

“Morning sickness is a bitch. I just puked my guts out and now I’m craving pickles,” A loud thud sounded with Y/N’s little, “Oop, I dropped my pickle.” Beep.

He giggled at her clumsiness, his nimble fingers rubbing at his tired eyelids. It had been a long day of shooting for him for his new music video, but his brain couldn’t seem to shut off despite his body protesting for sleep. So, he stayed on his phone, tapping through his apps and finally facing the reality he consciously avoided. His thumb pressed on the next voicemail from five days ago. 

The first thing he heard was a sniffle, making his eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, “I-i miss you a lot, Harry. And I hope that you miss me too.”

Of course he missed her. 

“Or not, that’s okay too. Unless…?” She prolonged the last syllable, a remnant of hope dwindling in her tone. 

Beep.

He bit his lip, gnawing at the skin while switching to the second of the last voicemail. This one was from three days ago.

“I really hope you didn’t listen to that last note,” Y/N stated timidly, “My emotions are all over the place right now. Did you know I cried over the water not being hot enough for my bath?”

“It sucked a lot, but it did eventually. You know, turn hotter,” Harry smiled at the thought of her being so passionate about her bath taking. She mixed the right bath salts and foams so that it smelled so heavenly-- he couldn’t help but join in too. “Hmmm,” 

He could just imagine her cute face pulling into a thoughtful look, lips pursing in a slight pout while she gathered the words for her thoughts. “I’m almost in my fourth month now,”

Harry nodded along with her as if she was right beside him, “Can’t believe it’s been that long since…” Y/N drifted off as realization hit her. “Since I told you,”

He gulped, shame filling the inside of his body. “B-but that means I can find out the gender of our baby soon!” He winced, the pain in her voice was evident. He knew that she wished for him to be there, but something was holding him back from owning up to the result of his actions. His breath got caught in his throat as he realized just how close she was to giving birth to his child. Well, not close but still close. 

Beep.

“I met someone,” Y/N started. “I met him a while ago and I was debating on whether to tell you, so here I am. I still love you, I always will but I think that..” She choked slightly, “I think that it would be best if we broke up, officially. I don’t know what we’ve been for these couple months but it didn’t feel like we were in a relationship, H.” The message was from a day ago.

He breathed deeply. “I think that we ended when you decided to leave.” Harry agreed with her, the hairs on his neck standing up, giving a foreshadowing shiver to blow through his body. “I mean god, you’re such an arrogant son of a bitch! Was it so hard to say you’re sorry for what you did?” She questioned with a strain in her voice. “I didn’t want your money, I just wanted you to be here,”

Harry tried to open his mouth, but nothing came out. His throat was dry and he was glad that she wasn’t here or else he would’ve made a complete fool of himself. He was sorry. He wanted to tell her repeatedly even if she didn’t believe him. He had to make sure that she knew just how much he loved her despite not being able to fulfill what he should be. 

“It’s hard talking to you, you know that? Like talking to a brick wall,” Y/N said snidely, “Haven’t heard from you in so long,”

“Are we going to talk about this?” Y/N questioned. “I have to know if you want to be a part of this,” 

Beep.

And he does! Harry wanted to be part of this so bad but he can’t. He felt rushed and pushed in a direction that he did not want to go to at this time of his life. He hurt the love of his life because of him, but she couldn’t really blame him for that, could she? No one should have to be someone they didn’t want to be. A father, he thought. 

But no one should have to raise a child alone. 

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind and set focus on what he actually wants to do. All caution was thrown to the wind when he decided to call her.

His heart was thumping hard in his chest, blood was rushing quickly past his ears. He was beginning to sweat. This was the first time in months that he was willingly talking to Y/N, and god, did he expect nothing more than a proper lecture on how his ass couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone once after countless voicemails. What a dick, he thought to himself. 

The phone clicked.

“Hello?” Y/N’s velvety voice filled his ears. 

“Y/N” He breathed her name out in relief.

“Harry? Is that really you?” She questioned incredulously. “Why are you calling me?”

He blinked back tears prickling at his waterline, his heart pounding harder. “Heard your voicemails. Wanted to check in on you,”

She snorted, “A bit late for that, but I’m doing fine.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, carefully threading the next words to say to her. It was going better than expected as she hadn’t yelled at him yet. But somehow, her calm demeanor plastered indifference and he didn’t know if that was better or worse. 

“I-i’m so--,” He began. 

“Sorry? Sure you are, H.”

He swallowed thickly, “Yes, I am. I really am.”

“I appreciate it,”

Silence overtook the connecting line, neither of them knowing what to say to each other. The distance had taken a toll on their relationship, making it as though they hadn’t been together for years. Harry and Y/N were strangers, despite creating a little human that was reminiscent of both of them.

“Y/N? The movie’s about to begin,” A deep voice echoed through from Y/N’s line, “Let’s go love,” He could hear Y/N shush the person speaking.

“Harry?” She said hesitantly, “I have to go now, okay?”

He nodded slowly before realizing that she couldn’t see him, “O-okay, wait!”

His voice cracked, “Do you think we can work this out?” His arm was stuck in its position of holding the phone close to his ear. 

There were things that they’ll never know between them. However, the love was very much alive; Y/N admitted to it and Harry was sure that he could still feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he thought of her. It was the sole question if they can work it out between them and Harry was afraid of the outcome because he knew just how rash his actions were. 

But they were Harry and Y/N, they validated each other, almost as if they needed each other to function. Y/N was the better half of him and he didn’t doubt it one bit. And Harry might as well be Y/N’s rock because she had lost stability for the months that he wasn’t by her side. Despite the dues they’ve yet to face, Harry wished for what he already had.

“We’ll be alright,”

------------------

or will they? so anyways, it’s been awhile. im sorry about that. im hoping to post a few more before the year ends. been working on some old stuff, some new stuff-- cause you kNOW i’ll be writing something (surprise!) angsty since ‘falling’ wrecked my emotions 

-------------------

permanent taglist: @fangirl-moment-x @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @harrys-kingdom @harrysstyleseyes  @calums-sugarbaby @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @ofpeppermintbays @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower @harrystxleslx @befourep @moonandstars-xo @babebenhardy @particularnarry @mendesromano @harrystylinsince1994 @juliassgem @miscll-fangirl @little-dragon-ate-my-heart @myfangirlworld @haroldssfedora @winchesterwife27 @w0wfxck @arypesanchez  @harriemelonsugar @someinsanefangirl @derangedcupcake @bobo-bush @peachesaquari @shawnsnovel @ivegotparticulartaste @adore-you-hs2 @combativehood 

[belovedbangtan]

Dive : Part 3

<Part 1> <Part 2>

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 3.4k

Description:  Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was   planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with   her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are  there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with  a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings:Language, Alcohol, alcohol poisoning, nipple play?, little bit of exhibitionism?, So MUCH fluff you might faint.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

The morning arrived quicker than you expected. Cuddling with Jungkook gave you a sense of security that you had never had before. The sun instantly started to heat up the inside of the tent making it nearly impossible to sleep in very long. You throw the blankets off of your body, waking Jungkook in the process. He mimics you in discarding the blankets before he moves over to your side. He sleepily pecks your temple with multiple kisses, making you coo into is arms. He wraps them tightly around you for a moment before you interrupted by the sound of the zipper on your tent.

“Ah! That’s what I’m talking about!” You hear a high-pitched squeal as Abby peaks her head inside the tent. “Get up love birds, were going floating!”

You feel Jungkook’s chest quake as he laughs at how obnoxious her response was, his arms still tight around your body. Finally, you pull yourself away and the sight of him when you turned around was enough to break your heart and set your insides on fire. His full body, from his beautiful toned thighs to perfectly imperfect bed head; on full display for you. His bottom lip jetting out to tell you he didn’t want you to leave, and his puffy eyes signaling that it might take a few more minutes to get him moving. You giggle as his hand around your wrist tightens, he attempts to pull you back to him. Jokes on him because you didn’t really want to leave his side anyway. Smirking as you crawl back over to him, straddling his hips and placing your hands on his tones abs.

His eyes instantly pop open, he’s awake now. He slowly sits up to meet you, his hands finding your hips. His fingers slowly glide on the skin beneath the long t-shirt you were wearing. While his lips find your neck, leaving soft and lazy kisses all the way up your jawline.

“Don’t make me come in there!” Jimin screams from what seems like only a few feet away. Jungkook laughs silently before leaving one last kiss to your jawbone. You slide off of him, grabbing your bag full of clothes. You turn away from each other while he puts on his swimming trunks and you put your bathing suit and a pair of jean shorts. You throw a hat over your hair to hide the bed head you were sporting. There wasn’t really a point to try hard since you would be floating down a river all day.

Once you’re finally out of the tent, everyone is packing up their coolers to head to the river. We get in a bus that the campsite provides, and they drop us off at a starting point in the river. We float five miles until we reach the ending point, and the bus picks us back up to return to the camping grounds. Floating was always one of your favorite things to do with your family each summer. It was basically just you, an innertube, and a lot of alcohol.

Some of the groups rented a raft, and some of the guys chose to canoe. Your group decided that inner tubing was the way to go. Yoongi brought rope to tie all of the innertubes together, along with the innertube that held the cooler. You flopped into the tube laying back, while the boys pushed you off of the bank into the flowing river. The sun was out, and the day was absolutely beautiful. The bus driver from the campgrounds mentioned that a storm was coming in so we needed to be at the stopping point before it got bad. You figured you might as well get drunk now since you’ll most likely be stuck in your tent later on. To be honest it excited you thinking about getting to spend more time alone with Jungkook, and you hoped that’s how it played out.

You’re about a mile in and a few beers down, when you feel his fingers lacing with yours. You look up and he’s fully immersed in a conversation with Yoongi. It makes your heart skip a beat knowing that even while he’s distracted, he’s pulled to you. When Abby pulled Yoongi away to talk, Jungkook turned around, resting his head on your innertube.

“How’s it going gorgeous?” he asked softly.

“Oh you know, kind of buzzed and its only noon,” you lower your glasses to let him see your eyes, as you lift your beer to your lips.

He smirked at you and followed your lead, drinking his beer too. Getting drunk while you’re in water is always a dangerous game. Sometimes you can’t really feel the effects until you’ve been out of the water for a while. Simply put, you can really fuck yourself up if you don’t watch yourself. Taehyung opens the cooler and pulls out a bag of homemade Jello shots. Jungkook grabs one for you and brings it over.

He loosens the Jello from the container, “Open up,” you listen as he lets it plop into your mouth. You’re face scrunches in disgust, nearly making him choke on his own shot at he tries to control his laughter. Of course, Tae would use way too much booze in the recipe.

“Tae, these are so strong!” you whine as you force it down your throat feeling the sting of the Vodka.

“No shit, I’m trying to get drunk love. “He rolls his eyes at you, how dare I complain. You start to laugh, as he throws you another one, “Stop complaining and drink!”

You regret it as soon as it hits your tongue, swallowing quickly so you can wash down with your beer. You look over as you feel his eyes on you, he’s biting the inside of his cheek with a smirk. You know something is stirring in that brain of his, and you really want to know what it is.

One of the other groups finds a bank eventually and everyone pulls off to eat, and drink more. Some of them switching around in the canoes and rafts. You pull your tube to the rough sand, making sure it wont float away. You stand up, and your instantly hit with all of the alcohol you’ve drank so far. It wasn’t enough to make you stop drinking, but you knew you needed to eat something. Before you can find what cooler the food is in, you feel yourself being tugged away. He pulls you into the water deep enough so that no one can see our bodies, just your shoulders and head.

“There’s no current here, so we can swim.” He explains as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into him. You voluntarily put your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“You wanted to swim, yeah?” you giggle sarcastically

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse,” He starts as he pulls you in closer to him, lifting his hand to push some of your hair from your face, “to feel you again.” He shrugs.

He sighs, “You know, you’re really fucking killing me. I just want to rip your suit off.” He looks down biting his lip. Your eyes widen, and you look to see if anyone is watching you. When you realize no one is, and you’re far enough out, you slowly start to kiss his neck.

“y/n, baby,” He groans you giggle quietly continuing your attack. You decide to lean back in his grip, to pull your swimsuit top to the side. Your nipples hard from the cold water, he practically starts to drool. You know that no one can see what’s going on but the fact that you could get caught makes you feel so naughty. He brings one of his hands around to feel, taking your nipple in between his fingers tugging gently. You let out a soft moan before readjusting your top.

“As much as I appreciated that, it did not help my current situation.” He pouts, but all you can do is laugh. He starts to dip your head back into the water, leaving kisses on your collar bone each time you do. You loved how touchy he was with you; however, it was making it extremely hard to take things slow with him. After a few more minutes, you’re being called to the bank to start floating again.

The day was honestly picture perfect. You didn’t even realize that Ben was there, and it felt so amazing. Tae, Jimin, and Yoongi were way too drunk already, but that made for the best entertainment. Jungkook wasn’t nearly as drunk but you could tell he was tipsy, by the how clingy he was. Perhaps your earlier shenanigans didn’t help, since that he couldn’t stop touching you. Yoongi decided to tell you that Jungkook has never been this clingy to someone this quick. You know that you should be excited to hear those words, but your brain starts to panic wondering if things are going too fast. Abby, of course was eavesdropping on the convo and tried to calm your nerves but telling you not to over think it. You were the queen of overthinking, it was definitely easier said than done.

“Look, do you like him?” Yoongi said matter-of-fact.

“I mean, I do… but I ju-“He cuts you off instantly.

“No, none of that. If you like him and he likes you then that’s that. You know? That’s life. Maybe you guys won’t be together, maybe you will, maybe you’ll break up, maybe you’ll get married.” Your eyes widen at the words and he sighs, “The point is, you can play the maybe game all day, but don’t let it get in the way of something real.”

You nod in agreement. Yoongi was quite possibly a genius and of course he was right. You glance over at the Jungkook while he sings loudly with Tae and Jimin and you know that regardless of how scary the thought of someone like him was, there was absolutely no way you could deny the way he made you feel inside. The chemistry was undeniable, and unlike anything you had ever experienced.

With two miles left in the float, there was a massive cliff that was known for being jumped off of. Abby told you about how everyone would do it every year. You were excited about it until you saw it with your own eyes. It was massive, and you couldn’t even see how to get on top.

One raft pulled to the side and started to walk up to the top of the cliff. The trail was set, but it still looked incredibly dangerous. The guys in the group were helping the girls, which instantly discouraged you. When they finally got the top, you could see the pure fear in a few of their eyes. Within seconds one of the boys was running off the edge and into the deep water beneath it. The gasp that came from your throat each time someone decided to jump was involuntary. Jungkook thought it was cute though, peaking over at you each time it happened to watch your expression.

“You wanna come jump with us? Yoongi is gonna watch the tubes,” He asks already anticipating a strong ‘fuck that’ from your lips.

You watch the girl jump and come up from the water, she looked so thrilled. You wanted to feel that. A rush of adrenaline was exactly what you needed. You looked over at Jungkook and it makes your chest tingle when you feel like no matter what he’ll take care of you.

“Yeah, lets do it.” You respond quietly. His eyebrows raise and his smile stretches across his face, “Hell yeah, lets go!”

Jimin and Taehyung start to head up first with Abby. You start to follow them with Jungkook leading you by walking backwards, you giggle as he watches your every step.

“I’m good, Kook.” You look up at him, but he shakes his head. He doesn’t care how confident you are he’s not chancing it. When you finally get to the top its flat, but its so high. You take a deep breath as you look over the edge carefully. Taehyung pulls a bottle of Soju out of nowhere and starts to chug it, “It’s a tradition every year, you have to take a shot before you jump!” He explains before passing the bottle to Jimin, who passes it to Abby. She passes it to Jungkook and he tilts his head back downing the harsh liquid before holding it over you mouth. You open without thinking, he started to pour it in until its overflowing.

“Now we jump!” Jimin yells taking Tae and Abby’s hand. They scream as they run off of the edge before plummeting into the dark water below. You exhale the breath you had been holding when you see all of their happy faces pop out of the water.

You feel his arms around your waist, you didn’t realize how bad you were shaking.

“If you want to go back down, we can.” He mumbles, as you turn in his arms to look at him. He subtly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You shake your head no; you want to do this.

“We’ll just go on three, okay? Just close your eyes and jump.”

“Fuck its so scary,” you breathe holding his hand as you look over the edge once again.

“The most amazing things in life are. Sometimes you just have to take a breath and dive in, no matter how terrifying it is.” His voice is small, yet warm. You turn into him knowing that his pep talk is referring to more than just jumping off of the cliff. He’s talking about you, and the feelings he has. If you couldn’t breathe before, you definitely couldn’t now.

You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, “I think I’m ready,” You whisper just before pressing your lips into his. You feel his lips pull into a smile while he kisses you back. He takes your hand in his and he looks at you once more to make sure you don’t want to change your mind; you nod at him once before looking forward.

You both start running towards the edge when he counts to three, “LETS GET IT!” he screams as you both fall through the summer air and into the icy water. When you surface it takes you a second to grasp your surroundings. When he finds you and pulls you into him, you wonder if that’s all you need in life. You feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he holds your waist, floating in the water. Telling you how amazing you did and making sure you’re okay. Adrenaline had a funny way of making you feel like you were in love. Your head was spinning, and your breath was short. Perhaps it wasn’t adrenaline at all, maybe you were falling hard and fast for him. You held onto him tight, there was no way to stop it now.

Once you get back to the tubes, the others give you both a knowing look. Taehyung pulls out even more Jello shots, and you happily take all of them with out complaining this time. Jimin starts to pass the remainder of beers and shots out, demanding that we finish them before the float ends. The adrenaline and alcohol make you feel drunk, you seem to have a hard time saying no, so you drink everything that’s handed to you.

After what felt like an eternity you finally see the bridge that marked the end of your five-mile float, and the bus that was meant to take you back to the camp ground. As you took your seat on the bus, you feel your legs give out. Your head is spinning in a different way than before. Your limbs are heavy, and you know you’re drunk but it feels like more than that. Jungkook slides in next to you, instantly picking up on how off you are.

“What’s wrong?” He worries as he pulls you into him.

“Don’t feel good.” You answer quietly, your head dropping to his chest. He goes to get up but you pull on his shirt, “Don’t go, please.” You beg without opening your eyes.

“I’m not leaving, baby.” He coos as he runs his hand up and down your spine. He quietly asks Abby to grab one of the plastic bags in the front of the bus in case you needed to get sick. Despite the awful feeling in your stomach, having him next to you gave you a sense of security.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

You don’t know how, but when your eyes open, you’re lying in your shared tent. You look around you but you’re alone, and you still feel awful. Then you realize why you woke up; your stomach is turning and you have that familiar feeling in your chest and you know you’re about to throw up. You shuffle to your feet, unzipping the tent as fast as you could running to edge of the woods. You buckle to your knees, jumping when you feel your hair being pulled back for you.

Jungkook knelt beside you, while you threw up an absurd amount of booze. Once you were done he handed you a bottled water. You stood up with wobbly knees, walking back to the tent.

“Feel any better?” He asks quietly, sitting down next to you.

Lay back and you put your hands over your face, “A little.”

“You need to eat something, y/n” He grabs your hand and you look down to see a sandwich with chips on a plate, “Please.”

You sit up slowly knowing that you were genuinely worrying him, and suddenly realizing that you hadn’t eaten at all that day. You take the plate and you start to eat it in small bites. You ask him for the time and when he tells you its only 3 pm your eyes widen. You started the float so early, but there was no way to keep track of time on them. You wondered if you would be able to rally for the rest of the night. Jungkook makes you drink at least three bottles of water before he’s satisfied. The Advil he gave you with your food is helping slowly. You lay back on the mattress, and he lays next to you.

“You scared me,” He whispers, making you turn to look at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for not eating,” You mumble turning on your side to be face to face with him, “thank you for taking care of me.”

He smiles and nods, “It’s impossible not to,” He explained and you swoon as usual. Mostly because you could feel how true it was. Ever since you had made a connection with him, he was always looking out for you, taking care of you.

Abby peaks her head in to tell you that she and the boys were going to play drinking games in her tent since the storm was coming in soon. You instantly want to vomit again at the mention of drinking or smelling anymore alcohol.

“Kookie, you can go. Im still really tired.”

“I’m good here.” He says not moving a muscle, “Do you want to change into something comfy?”

You take a deep breath knowing how good it will feel once you have his big t-shirt on instead of this uncomfortable swimsuit and jean shorts. Swinging your legs over the side of the mattress you groan as you start to get up. He pulls you back to the mattress telling you to lay back down. He started to sift through your bag and you watch, “Can I wear your shirt again?” You whine. He has to chuckle at you and how needy you get, its possibly one of the cutest things about you.

“You want my shirt, Princess?” He hovers over you. You nod with big pleading eyes, for whatever reason you think it will make you feel better. He takes your hands pulling you so that you’re sitting up. He slowly starts to untie the top of your swim top, then part around your back. He slides it off, before taking the shirt off of his back to slide it onto your body. You lay back, watching him as he starts to unbuckle your shorts pulling them off of your legs.

He laughs to himself when he sees how red your cheeks are, laying down next to you before pulling you on top of him. Your head fits perfectly in the spot in between in chin and his chest.

“Go ahead baby, I’ll be here.” He says quietly and that’s all you need to drift away again.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @itboykook

A/N: PLEASEEE dont forget to tell me your thoughts! It makes me want to write more! Also Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

[reaperintheroses]

Minuscule

Bucky x villain reader

A/N: I tried to keep the reader pretty gender neutral but if there are any pronouns other than they/them let me know so I can fix it. This is what I’m thinking to be the first week in my writing rotation so we’ll see how long this lasts. Also I know it’s short and a little rushed- I did my best. Also if you weren’t aware a magazine is where you pre-store bullets for a gun, and is, in this case, external. The reader talks about using a finished magazine to replace what they are stealing in case there is a weight sensor like in indiana jones. This specific mag. is made out of metal so it would work for the weight sensor. I don’t specify the rifle so that much is left up to imagination. 

Warnings: swearing, gun use, violence, crappy writing

readers power description

It was peaceful in a way, to sneak around as the rest of the world was sleeping. It really made you realize how small you were compared to the rest of the world. Just a mere drop in the ocean. You thought this way often. Realizing that no one would really care much about you. It was fine. You preferred to live in the shadows verse being one of the huge villains in the spotlight. That was a dangerous way to live. Far easier to get caught. You weren’t in this life for fame and anyone who was, you considered just plain stupid. You rose from your crouch on the roof of the building. You had to move fast if you wanted to get away and unfortunately, there wasn’t time to enjoy your surroundings. As cliche as it sounded, this artifact would have you set for life. It was just your luck that it was conveniently located in your current city and the heist involved one person with your exact skill set.

You worked for a group of black market mercenaries going under the name “the red merchants”. The group consisted of about 10 people with completely different skill sets and levels of training. None of you had ever met each other, only communicating through strange online chat rooms and a shared bank account. Recently though your group had fallen under shields spotlight and were placed on a government watch list. This would be your last heist with the group before completely dropping off the grid. Oh and the artifact you were trying to steal? An Asgardian jewel, worth billions. 

You turned around and strapped the gun you had been holding onto your back. You turned on the earpiece that you received in the mail a week ago and looked around to see if there was anyone around you who could possibly be working against you. After confirming that you were safe you made your way down the fire escape on the side of the building trying to be quiet as possible. When the static in your ear broke you stopped. “How far away are you?” a voice questioned in your ear. “About two jumps,” that was the reason you were so perfect for this job, see you had a superpower that allowed you to teleport short distances. You called these jumps. They were super helpful for stealth missions. “Let me know when you’ve completed the first. I can turn off the internal security for up to fifteen minutes, once you are inside you have to work fast. I’ve already started looping the cameras but if you have company it won’t take long for them to realize.” you sighed. “Understood, about to start the first jump.” The static returned showing that your fellow merchant had switched channels. You focused your energy and shut your eyes trying to be discreet. Making the first jump you looked around checking to see if anyone was around. You lifted your head to your ear piece, “First jump complete.” You ducked behind a dumpster and waited for further instruction. “In 60 seconds I’ll turn on the software. This is the last you will hear from me. Once your mission is complete destroy your earpiece and any evidence leading you to our group. It’s been a pleasure working with you.” It was sentimental, in a way. You almost felt sad. “You as well, thank you.” You switched channels in case there was anything else they had to tell you and started another jump. Taking a deep breath you ran into the portal that had been created. 

You came face first with the side of the building you were supposed to infiltrate. You recalled your notes about the entire layout of the building and the codes for each door. 2576. Nothing happened and you started to panic that was the wrong code and you would be locked out. You started to look around for other things you could use to break the system before it locked you out. You had worked so hard to get here and you would be damned if you got stopped before even getting in the building. You unstrapped your gun and raised the butt to hit the keypad as you heard a small beep and click. Moving one hand away from the gun with a confused face you used your other to grab the door handle and pull. ‘Okay strong start’ you thought to yourself as you placed your gun on your back and walked into the building. You saw a few guards walking away from your direction. ‘They must have just switched posts,’ You started another jump, trying your best to not make any noise as to make up for the time the door lost you. The jewel was located in the middle of the building in a vault, which was surrounded by about 20 guards so when you jumped in there you would have to be careful. Going through the jump you had just created you paid no attention to where you ended up as long as it was close to the jewel.

This of course was a mistake because when you emerged from the jump you were face-to-face with five armed guards who seemed to be on their break. “Hi there,” you raised your hand in a mock wave. They all reached to their sides where you assumed they had concealed weapons. Quickly jumping behind the first guard you kicked them in the back causing them to fall towards the table in front of them. Unstrapping your own rifle you hit them over the head before you took aim at the closest guard to your left. Once you hit them you kicked them in the stomach using the impact of your kick to throw the guard into the other behind them causing them both to fall to the ground. You aimed the rifle in the direction of the 4th guard grinning when you heard the impact of the bullet. The 5th dashed out the door. You looked back down to the guards who you were restraining with your body. “I always hate it when they run.” You sighed before jumping into the hallway right behind the running guard. Raising your rifle you let out a quiet “coward,” before hitting them over the head with the rifle, catching them before they fell and jumping back into the break room. You dropped the unconscious guard onto the floor before grabbing a chair and propping it under the door before locking it as well. 

Getting ready to jump again you thought back to the layout of the building. You imagined the very center of the vault, where there were no guards as a security measure, and thought about what it would look like. You had maybe 5 minutes left before the security came back on and you would be caught. You jumped again and looked around. You were face to face with the green jewel. The security was seriously lacking, the only thing protecting the jewel from your hands was a glass case. This really was too easy. You figured that sense Thor was on Earth he would be more involved with the safety of one of the most prized possessions of his people. Oh well. Made life easier for you. You stalked over to the jewel with your finished magazine in hand just in case there was a weight sensor. You outstretched your hand and right as you were about to close on the jewel you heard a break in the static in your ear. “The security countermeasures I put in place have a minute and 30 seconds left,” You withdrew your hand confused and turned around to face the wall. Why would they tell you that? You were well aware that you wouldn’t be able to finish in the time frame you were given. They said when they turned on the countermeasures that it could be the last you would hear from them. “4 of the avengers known as captain america, the falcon, the winter soldier, and of course thor have joined you, they are 1 floor away just thought I should inform you. Best of luck.” You squint your eyes. Not good. You fully switched off the earpiece before turning back towards the jewel. “I wouldn’t if I was you,” a voice came from behind you. You froze. “Of course you wouldn’t, falcon.” you replied before dashing for the jewel. Wrapping your hand around you turned around and looked. Calculating how well your odds were you realized that no matter how spent your power was there was no way you were getting out of here by taking them all down in a fist fight. You made eye contact with the winter soldier. Oh just lovely. Not only did he know exactly how your power worked he knew almost everything about you. This was just fan-fucking-tastic. Trying not to show how scared you were, you smirked at him before turning and facing the entire group that had come to try and stop you. “I would really love to stay and hear all about everything I’m doing wrong and how the only person I’m hurting is my self and so on, but I really must be going seeing that I have prior engagements that involve pawning off this rock and setting myself up on a beach with a margarita that has one of those tiny umbrellas.” Thor looked like he wouldn’t have an issue killing you in order to get the jewel back so you decided it was time to take your leave. Hopefully, they were slow enough that you could make it to the roof and have a few minutes to regain your bearings before they reached you. 

The falcon started to make his way over to you and right as he was about to secure you by the arm you jumped and almost fell off the side of the building. You stuck your arms out to help you regain your balance. Once you were sure you weren't going to plummet to your death, you sucked in a huge breath. ‘Maybe you would get away after all.’ You turned around and began to look at the sunrise and draw energy to yourself. Right as you were about to open your last jump to get you away from this dumpster fire of a heist you heard the door to the roof slam open and 4 sets of footsteps spill out from the stairwell. With an annoyed face you turned back around and faced the heroes that were still in pursuit of you. “y/n, I know that you don’t think it but you don’t need to do this.” Shit he knew your name, that makes everything even more difficult. “Shield helped me, they can help you too.” You rolled your eyes. This was a cute attempt but in the end it was pointless. ‘Bucky I’m not going to prison, I refused to be trapped down.” He recoiled slightly at the fact that you too knew his name. You blew out an aggravated breath, there really was no point to this savior monologue.  “I know this sounds super cliche but if you just stepped down I promise I will do everything in my power to help you.” You smiled a tiny bit. “Look, I appreciate the effort but theres really no point.” He continued to talk while you summoned more energy for a final jump. You cut him off, “Sorry lover boy, I’m just beyond saving.” You raised your middle finger in the hand not holding the jewel and started to lean off of the roof. Right as your feet left the edge, he started to rush to the side of the building. you summoned energy to help you jump. “We should do this again,” you shouted as you felt the energy surround you and you were pulled out of the air. 

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"Explorers raided tombs and paraded the remains of ancient monarchs and dynasties to their homes. Mummies were unwrapped at social affairs and examined—and it was such a popular pastime that tourism companies in Egypt sent such delights to European countries to satisfy their morbid curiosities and struggled to fuel the growing trend."

“So you see,” Sebastian continued, “There is a historical precedent for this sort of thing. I’m hardly the first businessman to notice the wasted resources just rotting away underground. Or stuffed into an urn, depending on customs and family sentiment.”

“There’s historical precedent for a lot of fucked up shit, Shaw. That doesn’t make it okay!” Pyro stared, aghast, at the website. “Does the Council know you’re doing this? They can’t possibly approve!”

“Are you going to run and tattle on me?” Sebastian sneered. “That doesn’t seem like you, Allerdyce, but you have become more of a conformist rule-follower in Krakoa, it seems. At any rate, some of the Council are aware of my side business. They have elected not to bring it to a vote in meetings, so presumably I am breaking no law of the island.”

“But….it’s wrong. It’s bloody grotesque is what it is!” Pyro exclaimed.

“Is it better or worse than burning people to death during a bank robbery, or as part of some half-baked political protest?”

“Oh, give me a fucking break, Shaw!” Pyro snapped. “I know I’ve done some bad things – “

“Some bad things. What an adorable generalization, ducking out of all serious responsibility – “

“I know I’ve killed people, okay?” Not quite as many as some X-Men wanted to pretend, though. He mostly went for guards, police officers and soldiers, who, as far as Pyro was concerned, had it fucking coming. He hadn’t wanted to kill people to rob a bank, and there was never a need to if the civilians were smart enough to stay well back.

“But killing people doesn’t mean I can’t draw any moral lines, ever,” Pyro continued. “And I’m drawin’ a line right here. This is not okay.”

“Why not? Who does it hurt, really?”

“Well, surely the people whose bodies are getting rented out to sickos! No one would want that.” Pyro wasn’t sure he could articulate the sick churning in the pit of his stomach. It was something that went beyond logic, just a deep sense of disgust that seemed to well up from the center of his being. He was an open-minded fellow, he was willing to play fast and loose with a few morals, but surely some things were just….wrong. Right?

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Sebastian said, waving a hand dismissively. “And apparently X-Factor is running some very interesting experiments with discarded mutant corpses over in their appropriately named “Boneyard.” And I’m quite confident that Sinister is probably churning out clones in his little lab, no matter how he might deny it. So whats the harm in my business?”

“Just because other people are doing it doesn’t make it okay! It’s like a….desecration, isn’t it?” Perhaps there was some of his Gran’s staunch Catholicism lurking under the surface, despite Pyro’s current status as…well, not an atheist, exactly, more like an agnostic who didn’t want to think about things too hard. He had to admit, a childhood of Mass and Confession and Hail Marys really got under your skin, no matter how long ago you walked away from the church.

“All this fuss over discarded meat,” Sebastian shrugged. “That’s all it really is when you remove religion and sentiment from the equation. Really, Allerdyce, I’m surprised at your squeamishness.”

“Are you really okay with it, then?” Pyro asked. “Letting some human fuck a mutant corpse? That’s what they’re doing it, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. I believe that’s the most common activity, but a few people want to cook and eat choice pieces.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly all right, then.” Pyro’s words were so heavy with sarcasm, they practically thudded onto the floor.

“Understand, Allerdyce, I find all this personally distasteful. I am disgusted by the idea of necrophilia, and even cannabalsim. But I see no reason to deny others, if there is money to be made. The ‘sickos’ will pay top dollar for discrete fulfillment of their taboo desires.”

“But do you really want to be putting mutant corpses in human hands? Haven’t they got scientists trying to study us or clone us or whatever? Put our DNA in Sentinels to make super-weapons?”

Sebastian laughed heartily. “Really, I didn’t think you were so naïve. Mutants have been in the public eye for several decades. The various governments of the world have been capturing mutant test subjects for a very long time. There are hundreds of mutants buried in graveyards and millions in the heavy layer of ash that still covers Genosha. If some enterprising human scientist wants mutant DNA, it would be very, very easy to lay hands on it. In fact, your own corpse is probably preserved in a government lab somewhere. In other words, there’s no point in closing the barn door at this point. The horses are long gone.”

Pyro couldn’t resist a full-body shudder at the thought. He knew, deep down, that his body was probably stuck in a metal drawer somewhere, or cut into chunks sitting in labelled glass jars. The US government had probably been interested in him as a Legacy Virus victim, back before the cure. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow, it did.

“And the bodies are only available for a limited amount of time, at any rate,” Sebastian continued. “Aside from the obvious natural impermanence of a corpse, I’ve had Sinister inject the bodies with a kind of “kill switch.” After five days, the corpse will dissolve, leaving no trace behind. The humans are only paying to rent, after all.”

“But wait…..” Pyro ventured. “What gives you the right to sell other people’s bodies? Shouldn’t they be the ones to profit off that?”

“What gives people the right to collect discarded trash?” Sebastian said, spreading his arms wide. “Would you begrudge the little old lady collecting aluminum cans for a few pennies from a recycling center? Or the struggling student who takes a sofa from the side of the road? That’s all these corpses are. Trash. Their previous owners have shiny new bodies – bodies gifted to them by Krakoa and the Five, by the way – and left no instructions as to disposal. I don’t use bodies from people who requested to be cremated, or some kind of ritual burial. Just bodies have have been carelessly tossed aside, by people who clearly don’t care.”

“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll be happy to explain that to everyone else, then,” Pyro said. “I’m sure they’ll all be totally understanding.” He realized a moment later, with a nervous twinge, that threatening to tell on the unscrupulous businessman while you were sitting alone in his massive castle and no one else knew where you were was a very stupid thing to do. Fuck. He should have at least claimed to have evidence left with a trusted friend or something, but he’d only just stumbled across this, while exploring the so-called “dark web.” Maybe he could bluff his way out of this.

“I told you, some Council members are already well aware,” Sebastian said, sitting back and regarding Pyro across steepled fingers. “I don’t think you’d find those in authority quite as willing to turn on me as you imagine, Allerdyce. In fact, it’s entirely possible that any attempt to inform the public will lead to a hasty mind-wipe for you.”

“I’ve got proof. I left it all on a flash drive with……” Freddy? Dominic? Mystique? “….a friend,” he finished, not wanting to actually put anyone else in the crosshairs. Hell, Mystique might even know about this. He’d like to think better of her, but she always had schemes within schemes going. He wondered which telepath on the Council might be in on this. Was Sinister a telepath? That arrogant piece of shit Exodus? He seemed too high-minded to approve, but that mission in the Savage Land had shown Pyro that Exodus did not give a single fuck about mutants that he considered weak or “unworthy.” Frost? Even Xavier? Pyro had never trusted that creepy bastard. Something about him had always seemed too good to be true.

Sebastian laughed again. “Oh, you think I’m going to kill you? That’s cute. Allerdyce, you are not in some ridiculous detective story. I am a practical man, and despite your bleating about morals, I know you are, too. I am willing to make you an offer. It’s an easy job. All you have to do is ‘keep mum,’ as they say.” Sebastian wrote a number down on a piece of paper, and slid it across the table.

It was, in fact, a very nice number. Enough to make some of Pyro’s disgust quickly fall away.

“After all, why shouldn’t you enjoy the same kind of luxury experienced by Krakoa’s elite? You serve aboard the Marauder, and you’re obviously on the lowest rung of the crew. None of the power and privilege weilded by the X-Men, none of the wealth bestowed by birth on Christian Frost, my own son, and the Von Struckers. And you do significantly more work than for the Hellfire Trading Company than those spoiled idiots. Why not take a little something for yourself?”

Pyro’s mind whirled. Of course, taking the money now would mean he was “in it,” so to speak. And if the secret got out, he’d probably be implicated along with Shaw, at least in the eys of his fellow mutants. Which would hurt a bit, after all his heroics with the Marauders. He was starting to feel, at least a little bit, like a good guy.

But on the other hand, if Sebastian was telling the truth, and some of the Council already knew, trying to tattle would just get him in the shit. It was all well and good to have movies about heroic whistle-blowers, but in the real world, they got slandered, ruined, and sometimes murdered. No one would stand up for a relative nobody like Pyro, especially if Frost and Mystique already knew. At best he’d just get mind-wiped.

It would be safer to just walk away and keep his mouth shut. And if he was going to walk away anyhow, why not pick up a paycheck for it?

They were just corpses, right? What a resurrected mutant didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

And it didn’t seem to actually be breaking any Krakoan laws.

And it was a lot of money.

And Pyro really did like money.

It wasn’t like he was a proper journo anymore, was he? No need for integrity.

Pyro pushed the paper back across the table.

“You’ll need to add a zero to that number before I’ll even consider it,” he said. “And this is just for silence, understand? I’m not gonna be your employee, don’t start expecting me to fetch and carry.”

Sebastian grinned, making a mark on the paper, and held it his hand to shake.

“I knew you’d see sense. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Allerdyce.”

OOC: I was going to make that sillier, but the more I thought about it…..Sebastian probably would bribe Pyro to shut up, and Pyro would probably just take the money. He’s trying to be “good,” but not that good. Also, no offense intended to Exodus. After the story in the Quicksilver min-series, when Pyro is working with Acolytes on a mission for a supposed Legacy Virus cure (which doesn’t exist), Pyro probably holds a serious grudge against him.

[sanstropfremir]

kingdom episode 3 baby!!!!

listen. i’m not gonna lie i was nervous as hell for this episode. i saw that preview like everyone else and unfortunately i have ears so i was convinced the ateez stage was going to be a trainwreck. i was absolutely banking on sf9 and skz to do something even mildy interesting to save me from the ear damage and having to talk to extensively about why that disaster happened. but somehow i woke up in an alternate universe and you know what? with the exception of that high note the ateez stage fucked. i know. i don’t believe it either. i think i’m still in shock.

i’ll do individual breakdowns in order of favourites within the episode and then at the end i’ll put my personal ranking of all six. thank god i don’t have to do a stage breakdown again; if they change it again for next week i will scream.

ateez

a miracle happened. i don’t have to fight any of the staff at kq. i don’t understand either. jongho is so fucking lucky that the rest of the group pulled all that energy out of their asses because if they had been even a single iota less serious about it that stage would have flopped worse than a dead fish. i can’t believe we got this level of camp b movie schlock in the first full stage, and they stuck the landing. incredible.

fine i’ll address the elephant in the room. personally, i don’t think jongho is that good of a vocalist. he’s not bad, and he does have the potential to be a good vocalist, he just doesn’t have the training, and this is the issue with all of ateez. hanya talked about this before and i’ll say it again: he can’t switch to his head voice and he’s destroying his vocal cords by attempting to hit notes in his mid range that he should just jump to head voice for. frankly i’m surprised he got anywhere close to that note in his mid, but his technique is just not there and he’s gonna do some real damage to his voice if he doesn’t take a break and also get a good vocal coach. you can already hear the degradation in sound from their debut stage to now, and that’s in less than three years. ok i’m done talking about vocals that’s hanya’s turf, i’m pretending that that high note doesn’t exist and we’re moving on. also im in love with btob’s reaction it was fucking priceless.

costume

look, i have a one track brain and that brain can only think about seonghwa corset. seonghwa corset? seonghwa corset.

i know it’s not a real corset nor is it properly laced and i know this would never happen in a million years but a kpop mr pearl trend? i would die. just fully expire. there’s no coming back from that for me

yes i have laced boys into proper corsets before and yes it is as hot as you think it is (when it’s not work related, obviously)

ok now that i’ve got that out of my system for the moment, the costumes are actually pretty good. i’m a little obsessed with hongjoong’s coat although I know it’s stupid. fur? always, I love it, you’ll never change my mind it makes everything better. i own a lot of it and i wear it all the time. this is also a pretty good example of how to do a more modern styling within a very specific and recognizable genre.

i don’t hate the backup dancers’ costumes either, even though they would look a lot better in a not-pirate themed hiphop stage. because there is already a modern tint with the boys’ costumes, it’s not that much of a leap to the dancers, and they actually use the dancers and the camera really strategically to not put much focus on them.

the only real standout issue is the blacklight/contortionist moment, which is too gimmicky for me and doesn’t fit the rest of the theme. i do understand the purpose of them: you need a transition point from the upper deck to the more fantastical inner ship area, and blacklight paint is a really easy, cheap, and fast way to get four new costumes instantly. do i think they could have done something better though? yes.

set

this was actually a smart reuse of that pirate ship set. i know i clowned on them in the first stage that they could move on from the pirate gimmick but honestly? i’m glad they didn’t. this was fun as fuck. but also two stages was enough you can move on now.

i love how they actually used the weird double stage function that the false prosc creates for an actual architectural and narrative effect, instead of just sort of operating as though it’s just another place to travel just because you can. we are on the deck of the ship, and then we go inside the ship. it’s simple and effective. you don’t need to do a crazy amount of crossover to establish a dynamic sense of place.

i hate the ateez kingdom logo. i hate the ateez logo in general. get it out of there, at least you could have made something more fun and pirate themed.

would have loved to have seen them return to the hourglass at the end, especially if they got one that was specifically set for 4 minutes. would have been a nice bit of symmetry but i suspect it was struck before the kraken bit.

the kraken bit??? i was not at all expecting that and honestly? dope as hell. that big tentacle is just a custom inflatable santa claus that you see around christmastime and what a brilliant use of such a simple mechanic, especially to have it come through that weird little triangle arch they have upstage. smart way to use the existing architecture.

yes it is a gimmick but here’s why it works rather than just looks tacky like every other gimmick we’ve seen so far: it had a function within the narrative. this is so important. show us there’s a reason it’s there!

lighting

i didn’t love it but they did actually make some smart choices. the outer deck is warmer toned and has some good atmospheric effects, and the inner deck is cold tone and specifically lit with pin lights to imitate the light coming through portholes in an actual ship, which is so smart thank you lighting designer

also a very clear arc with the lighting, blue -> orange -> blue/red -> orange/multiple -> blue

sound

i actually kinda liked this remix? it fit theme and had a very clear dramatic arc. also i like wonderland, so sue me.

staging

WE DID IT, WE FINALLY GOT A CLEAR NARRATIVE FROM AT LEAST ONE GROUP! wonderland was actually a great choice for them because it’s a really good indicator of exactly how hungry they are. i was a bit worried that it would fall flat because it kinda rides on mingi but they actually pulled it off. i have literally no idea where they pulled all that energy from but holy shit you can practically lick the attitude off the screen. i’m also very impressed by the amount of information they managed to fit into that four minute narrative. we had a full conflict/climax/resolution, as well as a really clear understanding of the tenacity and drive of the group, as well as the desire to support one another in achieving their goals. bravo.

ok so like i said in the set section, they used that pirate ship bridge really effectively to create two different but connected spaces. this is a really smart way to make it seem like you have two spaces while having to only build one set. it was also one of the best ways to utilize this dumbass stage so it doesn’t just look like you’re running arbitrarily from area to area because you can.

also levels! levels are so important for staging but also hard to do in this context because you have to be able to move really quickly in and out of full group formation, but I think they did a really good job here.

continued point: the kraken arm worked because it was the conflict they needed to overcome in the narrative, so it had a function within the performance. also related: all the tricking and jumping also served a purpose within the narrative too. it was either used for fighting (yeosang kicking all those dancers on beat) or a demonstration of teamwork (jongho flinging yunho around on the floor). also frankly excellent use of choreographic formation with the backup dancers, each formation had a specific function and was meant to highlight ateez without being overbearing.

not a whole lot of camera choreo, but a fairly good long take at the beginning and the editing wasn’t too obnoxious which I think was more chance than intent, but i’m not gonna look a gift kraken in the beak.

sf9

i actually really liked this stage, and i really like that sf9 has established their colour as effortlessly elegant, which does set them apart from the rest of the groups. this stage was really choreographically complex and they made it seem so easy, so real props to them. however, like with ikon’s stage, there were a lot of good ideas that just weren’t followed through enough for me.

like ateez, song choice and theme were very well intertwined with this one, there was a lot of thought put into this stage. the pun with ‘jealous’ and ‘jilleosseo’ and having a fairytale/magic mirror narrative? fuckin GALAXY BRAINED. incredible. the implication that not only taeyang but the entire group is the evil queen from snow white? chef’s kiss. should have committed harder and put one of them in massive cloak à la king taemin mama 2020. instead it was subtle enough to not try to step on ateez’s schlocky camp toes but still just as serious and i love that. do i wish they pushed it farther though? also yes.

costume

not gonna lie, i had my reservations on the costumes when we saw the previews of them in the waiting room, but the thing about stage costumes is that they always look bad when not on stage. if they look good in the waiting room you’ve done something wrong. and i loved them on stage. big fan of that quilted vest/pseudo stomacher. please can we have a corset trend? y’all already adopted bondage harnesses, c’mon a little corset won’t hurt. also a good example of a modern spin on a recognizable genre.

i wish the backup dancers weren’t in all black but i am fighting single person battle against the entire entertainment industry on that one.

set

extremely simple with a few smart utilizations. had a feeling this might have been a budget thing, as it had a similar kind of vibe with ikon’s stage, but the use of the mirrors was smart and a fun device that served the purpose of the narrative.

working with mirrors on stage is really fucking hard, so kudos to them for giving it a go. for the most part it was pretty effective. especially with the combo of moving mirrors and moving lights AND moving camera, you��re kind of asking to either blind your audience or at least give them a headache. i once saw a production of the magic flute that had a rotating mirror setpiece and i swear i nearly went blind due to the constantly flashing reflections. you have to really be careful with directionality and reflection, especially with the added element of a camera. also you never use real glass mirrors on stage, it is unbelievably bad luck and theatre people are the most superstitious demographic on the fucking planet.

i kinda loved the draped gold dais. i have nothing else to say about it other than fun!

lighting

a lot of this was very weirdly lit and i’m not sure why. the quality on youtube is terrible and cameras already have trouble picking up detail in low light, and throwing a whole bunch of primary red over that (the colour with the longest wavelength and therefore disappears the easiest in the dark. also human eyes are not very good at distinguishing variations in the red spectrum) and the red costumes made it extremely difficult to tell what was happening.

i will give them props for dramatic lighting usage, especially for the two way mirror trick and for using the floor as a primary lighting source at the end, which i think groups should be using more of. how often do you have a lighting source in your floor!!! almost never!! use that opportunity!!

sound

i actually enjoyed this remix too. it was well suited to the dramatic nature of the stage. i think the sound byte at the beginning is ‘mirror mirror on the wall who’s the worthiest of them all’ but it also could be ‘who’s the worst of them all’ and that would be also fitting and kinda funny.

staging

again, not a lot of consideration for camera choreo in a meaningful way, and like the tbz stage I think the clarity in the actual choreo got hampered by the editing. because there was a lot of choreographic precision that went into making this work and it wasn’t totally obvious from the way mnet edited it.

a lot of them are actors so it works that they’re leaning more towards dramatic stages rather than the sort of performance type stages we’ve seen so far. i like this choice for them as it gives them a very obvious colour but they’re almost on the verge of making it look too easy, which does them some injustice.

next to ateez, using that long uninterrupted traverse was my favourite use of this stage. doubles as an easy way to build the atmosphere of a palace corridor/throne room with the rug, and to feed the drama of the piece.

skz

ok i have some…..things to say about this stage. so far i have not been kind to skz which makes me look like i hate them and i don’t, i promise. there were a lot of really interesting things happening in this stage and there some really successful ones, and i liked this a whole lot better than their intro stage, but their overall choreo and thematic dedication is really killing me. i’ll explain.

costume

I don’t hate them but also…….why? I got the good self vs evil self/internal struggle theme but the costumes don’t really have anything interesting to say about that. as far as modern style costuming goes i think they’re on the more interesting end, but they don’t push it far enough. there’s a few western art history visual motifs and honestly? they should have gone whole hog and whited out their faces/hair and made them look like classical sculptures. that would have been hella fun, especially with that little statue and marionette sequence, plus the shadow/leash manipulation.

this time it was actually intentional that the backup dancers were in blacks and i appreciate that.

why on EARTH did they have that ridiculous makeup that didn’t read on stage? theatre makeup and tv makeup are different, you can’t just do a light purple eyeshadow and expect to read under blue and red light. someone needs to bring an actual theatre makeup artist in and get these boys in some real crazy looks. see previous point about full-face white pancake. more extreme makeup please and thank you!

set

i liked the use of internal architecture within this massive weird stage space and they used the corridors quite well. i didn’t really like the mix of baroque scrolling and also graffiti, it wasn’t quite connected for me. this has been a common theme among this round and i think it comes from budget/props pulls rather than anything else.

also there was a distinct feeling of trying to fill the main stage space with bodies as opposed to atmosphere. this can work in some specific cases but the intent wasn’t strong enough for me. it just felt like a lot of people on stage, especially in the end choreo.

lighting

the general lighting was fine but not particularly inspired. the low light in the beginning was actually quite well done, especially combined with the fog, but in my opinion was not dramatic enough. you have a pseudo art history theme happening, pump that contrast and push the chiaroscuro!

ok stay with me, i’m gonna say something extremely controversial that might actually get me cancelled. s*per j*unior’s burn the floor did everything this stage was trying to do on a smaller scale and better. look i know ok, this is a like, a double atom bomb hot take. just forget everything you know about them and watch the performance video. tell me that’s not some of the most interesting choreo you’ve seen in kpop. if you’re going to work with practical light you need to COMMIT. not just steal the solar lanterns out of my mom’s back garden.

i have a lot of opinions on using practical light and alternate light sources in performance because it’s a huge part of my practice and this just....wasn’t interesting enough for me. push it further!

(I will wait for the subs on the full episode because there has to be a reason they chose that specific shape of lamp. if not i gotta ask jyp why he’s raiding my mom’s garden)

sound

god’s menu has such specific imagery associated within the lyrics and choreography that this stage was a bit dissonant for me. especially when seen in conjunction with two stages where the narrative was tied explicitly to the lyrics of the songs. i think maybe if it hadn’t been grouped with these other two stages i would have felt differently. the other groups chose to do songs were a little more abstract and allowed for more visual experimentation, but to go so blatantly against the food metaphor didn’t really work for me and i had a tough time divorcing the association. I found the arrangement to be a little lacking in energy for me towards the end but otherwise it was pretty interesting.

staging

Definitely a better performance overall that the intro stage. almost all of the gimmicks this time had relevance to the theme which i appreciated. the marionette bit and the shadow/mirror were probably the most interesting but i wish they were better lit.

 there was a lot of back and forth in the blocking that made the stage feel repetitive and also aimless? like there wasn’t a very clearly established directionality within the internal space, so it felt like treading over the same ground for no purposeful reason. and again, not a lot of intentional camerawork.

i really liked having the dancers under the big sheet, it fit well enough within the ‘war between internal selves’ theme, but also had a loose tie to the art imagery. again, i really wish they had stuck to a clearer visual theme. it makes them stick out especially in this grouping of stages, but also across all the groups as whole because almost everyone had a clear(ish) visual idea.

holy shit that’s a lot of backup dancers. i don’t really feel like that many were necessary and the sheer number of them took away from the emphasis of the group. with all of the other stages (except for tbz) it was very clear who the centre of attention and emphasis was, and with both skz and tbz they got swallowed by the sheer scale they were trying to operate at. bigger is not always better.

---

this is a tough round to rank because none of these stages are bad, there’s just some that are, in my opinion, more successful than others. all of these stages do very well in specific elements but fall short in others which also makes this ranking difficult. i’m evaluating these based on whether they were successful to me, as i’m pretty sure this ranking will probably not all be popular opinion, but whatever i like to live on the edge.

btob – visuals, vocals, narrative, swords? what more do you want me to say? also i watched the full episode and minhyuk did rehearsal with a real bokken and i think i am in love with him now.

ateez – honestly not sure if i would have ranked this first if that high note hadn’t been a mess. i love camp nonsense and i genuinely think this was a well designed stage. i can’t believe i keep saying that but it’s true.

sf9 – this stage was really solid, just could have been pushed farther. i think it has a really good sense of drama and it’s a pity that sf9’s colour is more subdued, because i think they’re going to be stuck around the 3rd/4th position for the rest of the show.

ikon – ikon is only ranking this high because although i am disappointed in the wasted potential of this stage, they NAILED the camerawork and actually brought in someone to block the steadicam into the choreo. also they’re incredible performers. i say this every time, but their stage presence, although maybe lower energy that they normally would be, is still not to be fucked with.

skz – i think this one is the most ‘meh’ for me. while i liked a lot of the elements here they just didn’t push it far enough and the lack of narrative and general aimless choreo led to me not having any strong feelings yea or nay.

tbz – to be quite honest the lack of costume unity is a big hit for me. all elements of design are equally as important but because of my personal practice and experience i tend to put a lot of weight on good costume and spatial design. i don’t actually like game of thrones also, so I feel mildly offended on behalf of michele clapton, who had did a fucking incredible job and doesn’t deserve to be slandered like this. also the lack of cohesive choreography and the overblown lighting made this difficult to watch, no matter how good i thought the rear projection/stretch fabric dance was.

 any questions or opinions you wanna share hit me up! see you next week!

[maxattack-powell]

Chemical Reaction: Chapter 1

(A Nanny Affair Story)

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Masterlist - go here for other chapters and other Choices fics

Disclaimer: The following chapters are a retelling of characters in the basic nanny plot of Choices: The Nanny Affair. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters. All of the ORIGINAL characters, story-lines and events were developed, by me, for this adaptation of my Chemical Reaction story.

NSFW moments in some chapters - Mature Readers Only Please

Paring: Anna Schuyler x Sam Dalton

Word Count: 7048

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Chapter 1

~Anna~

Anna stands and reaches across the desk to shake the extended hand, doing her best to contain her excitement. “Thank you, Mr. Dalton, for this opportunity. I am thrilled to be joining Dalton Enterprises.”

He nods and gives her a small smile, his grey… wait, brown. No. Grey. Yes grey eyes hold hers. 

She could swear they just changed colors while he smiled. Shaking her head, she watches him open his mouth to speak, but instead of words, Mr. Dalton starts making a repetitive, obnoxious sound. She recoils, letting go of his hand to cover both ears before closing her eyes to block it out as it gets louder.

Thoroughly confused, Anna doesn't understand why he started making such an unpleasant sound. She opens her eyes intending on asking him to stop, but finds herself staring at a familiar ceiling instead of the infamous billionaire Sam Dalton who was shaking her hand just seconds ago. 

“What the hell?” She turns her head sharply to focus on the true source of the abhorrent beeping and is faced with large red digital numbers.

With a sigh she reaches over and forcefully turns off her alarm before letting her arms fall back to her sides with a frown. “Way to ruin the dream of dreams, you infernal machine.”

She blinks only once before bolting upright, turning to look at the time once more as it hits her. “Crap! The interview... I have to get ready!” 

Anna quickly grabs her laptop, opening it to find it on the job listing tab she had stared at for over a week. She frowns for a second, remembering enough of the dream she was just having to compare it to reality. 

Yes, she was going to interview for a position with Sam Dalton, the CEO of Dalton Enterprises. Dalton’s is one of the top biotech companies in the world, and coincidentally, her dream workplace. 

Anna’s eyes scan the job listing once more as she chews on her thumbnail.

 Live-In Nanny

Full-time position watching twin seven-year-old boys.

Benefits included

Negotiable salary

 Yeah, that's right. Her job interview was for a position working for the Sam Dalton, just not one remotely close to the field she's been working so hard in during grad school. She shakes her head slowly as she reads over the notes she made on a sticky note, currently stuck a little skewed to the screen. 

Anna had recently graduated from New York University with a Master of Science in Chemistry. Something that she was hoping would help her get a position at Dalton Enterprises one day. The problem was, no one leaves Dalton’s. It’s an illustrious company, featured in many grad school courses, not to mention professional business and science publications. And thanks to Mr. Dalton himself, more than the occasional news coverage.

It's basically like working for Disney, but less whimsy and way more nerdy tech. Otherwise they are totally the same. At least to this chemistry grad.

“Focus, Anna. You only get one shot at a first impression with Sam Dalton, and you need this job. If he sees how good you are with his kids, maybe you can work your way into an internship after a year… or something.” 

She sighs, knowing that she could probably find an entry level position at one of the many labs near New York and be working in her actual field, but this opportunity was too good to pass up. It’s not every day a recent grad student gets a chance to work for their dream company, or at least the CEO of said dream company.

“Okay. Let’s find something professional, something classy… probably wouldn't hurt if it was a little hot..?” She shrugs and gets up to open the closet door. “Whatever it takes to make an impression.” She scrunches up her nose. “Well, not whatever it takes, but close.” She shifts through the items on hangers until something speaks to her. 

“Ah, there it is.” Anna pulls a black mini dress with a matching gold plaid blazer out of the small space and assesses the overall look. “Just a few accessories and it will be perfect. Yellow is cheery, it's bright… and more importantly, it will help me stand out.”

Keeping an eye on the time, Anna rushes to get dressed, knowing she will need a few minutes to collect herself once she arrives at the unmistakable Dalton Enterprise building. Time moves too quickly, but she arrives at least fifteen minutes early. She checks her clothes one last time in the glass reflection before entering the building. The lobby is immaculate and modern, but also very alive and warm. It is very Dalton Enterprises. 

After exhaling a deep breath, she approaches the front desk. “Hi, I’m here for an interview with Mr. Dalton.”

The receptionist gives her a polite, but no nonsense look. “Name?”

“Anna Schuyler… I’m here for--”

“Ah, yes.” She clicks on her mouse feverishly a few times before looking back up. “His ten o’clock is running a little over, but his secretary said to send you up when you arrived.”

After receiving directions to a specific bank of elevators, Anna verifies her name once again with the guard stationed nearby. He wishes her good luck and opens the door to scan his badge and punch in the button for the top floor. She thanks him and turns as the small, but elegantly designed space begins passing floor after floor with increasing speed. For such a tall building, it takes what seems like only seconds before the door opens again.

The friendly smile of Mr. Dalton’s secretary greets her as she exits and steps towards a sleek metal and glass desk. “Ms. Schuyler?”

Anna nods, doing her best to remain cool, calm, and collected as the secretary leads her down a short hall and opens the door, gesturing for her to enter. She steps in and turns to thank the polite woman as she steps back into the hall, shutting the door behind her. 

Spinning to scan the larger than expected space, Anna freezes in place. Her eyes find not one, but two forms on the other side of the room, though only one is completely focused on her from his relaxed position on the edge of his desk. 

Yes on, not behind. Perched on the edge of a large warm, wooden antique desk, Sam Dalton’s wide hands splay flat across the surface, holding his thick frame up as his gaze locks onto hers. He shifts one foot behind the other in preparation to stand, causing her eyes to trail down his sturdy form without hesitation.

When he stands and extends to his full height, her eyes jump up and immediately notice his dark, rich brown hair styled perfectly so. Though it’s his piercing grey eyes that make her hesitate for a moment before eventually moving on to admire his strong chiseled jaw and immaculate facial hair. It all contradicts but somehow also fits the relaxed dress shirt peeking out of his open blazer, sans tie, quite perfectly. 

Anna swallows, doing her best to maintain her professional thoughts under his intense stare. She reminds herself that she’s here to get a job that will hopefully create opportunities for future positions at the company, not notice how well his chest fills his slightly open shirt and blazer combo.

A man she didn't fully notice when she entered the room shifts in his seat near the same desk, not yet aware he has quite possibly lost Mr. Dalton’s attention. “...still need to discuss the marketing for the Ilithyia Project. I say we go all in on the healthcare side, put our money into doctor ads.”

Mr. Dalton gestures for her to come in and sit as he turns to face the man, leaning further back on his desk as he attempts to wrap up the overdue meeting. “Isn't that the same strategy that almost sunk our last attempt to enter the women's health sector? I need you to think outside the box, David. You know how important this is to me.”

“I suppose we could go straight to the source… but women don't want all the science-talk thrown at them.”

Anna hesitates behind one of the open chairs and arches an eyebrow questionably for a brief second before doing her best to maintain a neutral expression.

“Hmm.” The slightly amused look on Mr. Dalton’s face tells her that it didn't go as unnoticed as she had hoped. 

He turns at the waist, making his switch in attention obvious to David. “And what do you think?”

With a start, Anna realizes that Mr. Dalton is specifically asking her. “Me?”

“Yes you, Ms. Schuyler. How would you approach new tech designed to make C-sections safer and easier?” 

She studies his face, analyzing his intentions before glancing at David. She’s still unsure if this is a test of some kind, or if Mr. Dalton was genuinely asking her opinion. When he gives her an encouraging nod, she takes a deep breath.  

“I think you shouldn’t dumb down science for your customers. Just because they're women doesn't mean they can't handle the ‘science-talk’.” Her tone as she side-eyes David makes her irritation obvious, but she keeps her composure.

Mr. Dalton remains silent for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly while he studies her, as if he was searching for something specific before he speaks. “...I couldn't agree more.” 

He pivots back to face the other man. “David, I want a new plan that takes her advice into account on my desk by end-of-day. Understood?”

David sputters in protest. “But--”

Mr. Dalton glances once more at Anna before fully focusing on the man still sitting in front of his desk. “Or do I need to find someone else to take over the project? Ms. Schuyler is already here for an interview…”

David’s jaw clenches as he gathers his things. “...I’ll get it done.” He huffs as he stands with his stack of papers and hurries from the room without a second glance.

Mr. Dalton turns to give Anna his full attention, causing her breath to catch at the intensity of his gaze before he flashes her a confident smile. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve got a packed schedule this morning, but I’m glad you were able to come in.”

His eyes smoothly slide over her entire person and his lips part in a soft exhale as he fiddles with his watch band. “I see you dressed to impress.”

She smiles, finally relaxing a bit as his eyes roam back up to hers. “Did it work?”

“It did, at that. You already look like you belong here. It’s nice to officially meet you, Ms. Schuyler .”

“Anna.” She quickly corrects, hoping he will drop her last name, never being a big fan of such antiquated formalities.

“Ms. Anna.” Mr. Dalton smiles softly as he reaches to shake her hand.

She feels an illicit spark as her skin brushes against his, but she shakes it off as he gestures for her to sit. “Tell me, what made you apply for this nanny position?”

“Honestly?” She hesitates then decides to be straightforward, as she typically is. “I admire what you do here at Dalton Enterprises. I know I wouldn't be working in the biotech field directly, but I want to do what I can to help, even if it’s just giving you peace of mind, knowing that your boys are taken care of. I believe we all need to develop important principles such as patience and self-discipline, and it's easier when we are children. It helped me through my graduate program at NYU, and I feel it's never too early to start building those tools.” 

His right eyebrow raises slightly before it drops back down. “My boys definitely require all those things.”

“I like to have fun too, though. Kids are full of energy and highly creative, something I believe more adults should embrace as well.” Her eyes flick up to his before glancing back down at her lap momentarily. 

He nods in agreement. “I wholeheartedly agree. My boys can be tough and need someone who can not only guide them, but also have the energy to keep up. I’ll be honest with you, not many can.”

His intense gaze almost makes her shiver as he continues. “Which is why I’m looking for someone who can commit to at least a year. Things will be very busy for me professionally over the next year or two, so I need someone they can depend on during the worst of it.”

His eyes shift from her back to her resume and she nods. “I understand. Mr. Canary did tell me about that requirement.”

Sam places her resume on his desk but remains looking at it while he speaks. “Excellent. James is a good friend of mine at NYU, so when he suggested I review your resume, I assumed he made you aware.” 

He looks up, his eyes studying her own as his head tilts slightly to the side. “I have to be honest though, I’m not sure why you would consider being locked down for at least a year when you just finished grad school with these achievements. You likely have multiple opportunities available already.”

Anna hesitates, scrambling to defend her decision. “Professionally, I’ve always admired the work you do here at Dalton Enterprises, and I want to learn as much as I can about the biotech industry. I hope to be a meaningful part of it one day.”

Mr. Dalton shifts, leaning a hip against his desk to face her better as she elaborates. “But this isn't a position at Dalton Enterprises. This is to be a nanny to seven year old, twin boys.”

“Yes, but I still feel that I am helping the company by helping them... by helping you.” She looks up and finds his eyes locked on hers. “And maybe I’ll learn something new during that time that could make me a more desirable candidate to Dalton in the future.”

“You’ve applied before.” It’s not a question.

“I have.” She confirms.

“But you have yet to interview.” Another correct assumption.

She shakes her head. “No sir. I’ve been told I’m in the applicant pool, but there are no open, entry level positions available.”

Mr. Dalton hums, fiddling with his watch again and she makes a mental note on how the pictures she’s previously seen in different publications don't do him justice.

He clears his throat to speak. “Your insight before might just make the Ilithyia Project a success, you know.”

She feels more confident and decides to throw some additional information out in hopes it can help her secure the position. “I recently received my Master of Science, with a focus in Chemistry, and all my lab work has definitely prepared me for taking care of young children. After all, chemists are used to handling high-stakes spills.” She jokes, instantly regretting it after seeing his emotionless expression.

His eyes burn into her for a moment before he finally chuckles softly. His gaze lingers for a second too long before he looks away with an almost sorrowful expression. “The boys are still feeling the loss of their mother. It was almost five years ago now, and they were young but…”

Even though Anna hasn't met them, her heart aches for his boys. “That’s not something you can just get over.”

“Exactly. And I’m afraid they often take it out on their nanny.” His eyes lift back to hers. “Can you handle that?”

“Of course.” She nods, determined to do whatever it takes.

“Then I have just one more question for you, Ms. Anna, and I want you to be completely honest.” He leans forward earnestly, and once again, she feels a weird energy in the air. “If you could go back in time and tell your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?”

“I’d tell younger me to take more risks. I admit I was a little apprehensive when I was a kid and I wish I’d taken that leap of faith more often and experience more.”

“Very impressive. You're wise beyond your years.” He leans back a little, contemplating.

A soft knock at the door breaks the moment, causing her to turn and see his receptionist peek inside. “Sorry to interrupt Mr. Dalton, but your car has arrived for the meeting over lunch at La Tour d’Argent.”

He nods to her, then turns his attention back to Anna. “The next part of this interview will take place this evening at my home.”

“It… will?” She blinks a few times, somewhat surprised at the thought of being in his home in just a few short hours.

He hands her his card with his home address and a time written on the back. “See you at seven, Ms. Anna.”

------------

That evening, Anna finds herself gaping up at one of the most luxurious apartment buildings in the entire city. She can't help but wonder if they'll even let her in as she approaches the door.

“Uh, hello. This might sound crazy, but Sam Dalton invited me here for a job interview?” Anna tries not to frown at how odd her question-statement sounds out loud.

“Yes, I’ve been expecting you. You can go right up to the penthouse suite.” He walks her over to the elevator and pulls out a card from a secret pocket in his blazer, swiping it across a panel on the wall above the floor buttons. “Good luck.”

Anna gives him an anxious smile as the elevator doors shut behind her. She can't believe this place might actually be her home if everything goes well. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Anna. Stay focused. Just... think about your interview questions. You did okay this morning.” 

She chews on her bottom lip. “But I don't know what to expect now.” She glances at the floor indicator, watching it climb. “Hopefully I’ll be able to come up with good answers on the fly. Just remember, this could lead to a great career opportunity. Focus.” 

Anna closes her eyes and replays today's interview in her head, doing her best to recall her answers and not the way he was analyzing her. “I can do this. I can show him I’m a valuable asset to Team Dalton.”

She sighs as she thinks about his sharp attention during the interview, how his strong jaw would flex as if he was hanging on her every word. “This is totally inappropriate. So what… he looks good. I’m sure he knows it too. The tabloids definitely seem to think so.”

Anna glances around the elevator, suddenly realizing something as she swallows her panic and whispers. “Please don't have cameras in here.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath to calm her racing pulse as she reaches the top floor. The hybrid jump-hesitation when it reaches the top makes her stomach flip as the doors of the elevator glide open, letting her out into the palatial penthouse suite. Her eyes grow wide as she takes it all in, instantly thinking how the spare bath is likely larger than her entire apartment. 

She moves forward, only making it one step into the luxurious space before she is ambushed by twin boys wielding foam swords.

One scowls as he adjusts his grip, his messy dirty blonde hair blocking some of his view. “Intruder at the castle gates! Ready your horses, boys!”

The other leans back, as if he's about to attack, his brows coming together behind his stylish copper glasses. “Aye, ready we be! Chaaaaaarge!”

“Whoa!” She rushes past them and towards the couch, grabbing a spare sword she saw seconds earlier. “Think again, soldiers!” She parries with the foam toys, holding her own against the onslaught of attacks. “Aaargh! You'll never get the best of Captain Anna!”

The first boy’s mouth falls open in awe. “Whoa! Admiral Mason, she can fight!”

Mason shakes his head as he gives his brother a wide eyed glance. “That’s why you gotta stick to the battle plan, Admiral Mickey!”

Mickey snorts with a smile. “Pssh! Where’s the fun in that?!”

Mr. Dalton suddenly enters the room from the long hallway to the side with a wide-eyed expression. “Ms. Anna, I didn't hear you come in... Boys, give her some space. We don't want to send her running already.”

Mason drops the sword and does his best to appear innocent, pushing his glasses up his nose with his fingertip. “But Dad, we were gonna bring her straight to you! She looks like a lost princess or something.”

Anna grins and shakes her head. “Charming tactic.”

Mason smiles with a shrug while Mickey also drops his sword, kicking it behind the sofa as if his father hadn't already seen it. “She was smiling the whole time, well… mostly.”

Mr. Dalton’s face turns serious. “Mason, Mickey, apologize. Now.”

Mason sighs and frowns behind his glasses as he turns to face her. “Sorry, Ms. Anna.”

Mickey shifts his weight but toes his discarded sword as he replies with mild sincerity. “Yeah, sorry.”

Mr. Dalton sighs. “...close enough.” He turns towards her and takes a deep breath. “Ms. Anna, let’s test your bedtime skills, shall we?”

She blinks and quickly nods, acutely aware of Sam’s gaze on her as her mind races to prepare for this trial by fire. She spins, clasping her hands together as she turns her attention back to the twins. “First things first. Have you brushed your teeth since dinner?”

Mason gives her a wide smile. “I’m on it!” 

He bolts towards the bathroom, but Mickey hangs back and pouts. “Aw, come on, lady. I hate brushing my teeth. Mint tastes gross.”

“But Mickey, you don't want Mason to win do you? He’s already got a considerable jump on you. Unless… maybe you're okay with him being the fastest?” Anna shrugs as his eyes grow wide and glances at the empty hallway.

“No way! I’m going right now!” He turns and sprints down the hall after his brother. 

She and Sam follow close behind to supervise. “Nicely done.”

“I’m just getting started.” She grins, and she means it. This is business.

Ten minutes later, Anna has settled another argument over who gets to wear the red pajamas and what bedtime story to read. Finally, she finishes tucking the boys in bed, then steps back near the doorway so Sam can say goodnight.

Mason gives his father a hug around the neck and lays back into his pillow, whispering almost comically loud. “I like Ms. Anna, Dad.”

Mickey leans over the rail of the top bunk and grins wide with a few nods. “Yeah, can we keep her?”

Mr. Dalton chuckles as he ruffles Mickey’s hair. “We’ll see, boys. Sweet dreams.”

As the two return to the main living area, he gives her an impressed smile. “No one has ever been able to put the boys down like that, especially on the first try. I normally have to step in and negotiate a deal.”

“Well, I have something those other nannies didn't… chemistry.” She grins, though quickly stops, instantly regretting her dad-quality joke.

They lock eyes for a long moment, the tension simmering in the air before Mr. Dalton finally laughs. “That’s true. I haven't interviewed anyone else with a chemistry degree.” He turns and shakes his head as he gestures to another hallway. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Anna walks behind him, noticing an open door into what looks like a home office. Her eyes linger on a framed photo on the wall of two people skydiving. She immediately assumes one is Sam, but wonders who the other could be. She didn't realize he was such a thrill-seeker, making a mental note in case the subject ever comes up. When she turns her attention back towards the hallway, she finds Mr. Dalton silently observing her. 

With a sheepish smile, she clasps her hands together in front of her. “Sorry, I wasn't trying to snoop. Something just caught my eye.”

“No need to apologize. Would you care to step inside and share a nightcap, Ms. Anna?” She hesitates, making him continue with a small, but friendly smile. “After all, if you're going to be Mickey and Mason’s nanny, I should get to know you… and you should get to know me.”

His eyes remain fixed on hers, making her curious about the other side of the infamous professional. “You’re right. Thank you, I’d love to.”

She follows him into his office and stares unabashedly as he pours the bourbon. Her eyes trail over his body, confident he won't catch her, but as soon as his eyes lift towards hers, she glances elsewhere and gestures towards some of the large pictures on the wall. 

“You've got a beautiful office. A beautiful home, really.”

“Thank you. I noticed you... inspecting a few things.” His smirk is brief, but she swears she saw it, making her wonder if he had caught her admiring something else entirely. 

He offers her the small glass and she sits on the firm, but luxurious sofa near the wall of windows. He takes a seat beside her, leaving a comfortable amount of space to remain appropriate. 

Anna contemplates how it makes her feel relieved and disappointed all at once, but she shakes it off, gesturing towards the skydiving picture on the wall. “Is that the boy's mom?”

He studies the small and elegant framed picture, his eyes searching the faces he finds there. “Yes, that's Alice. To think it's been five years since she passed.”

Mr. Dalton casts his eyes down, taking a sip of his bourbon, the silence slicing through her. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean…”

A somber smile crosses his lips before his expression turns neutral again. “No, it was a fair question, and certainly relevant if you're going to be a part of the boys’ lives.” He frowns as he glances at the photo again. “Sadly, they don't really remember her anymore.”

“I am very sorry.” Without thinking, she reaches out and touches his hand, but withdraws quickly when his eyes jump to meet hers. 

“Thank you, Ms. Anna. That means a lot to me. My wife and I may have only had a brief time together, but all told, I’m still a very lucky man.” He sighs deeply, and his penetrating gaze rests on her, unwavering. “What about you? You've seen the inside of my home and have a taste of what makes me tick. Tell me more about you.”

She swallows as she thinks how best to fulfill his request. “What makes me tick?”

“Precisely.” 

She takes a sip from her glass to buy some time as she thinks, his gaze still locked onto her. “I’d say... I’m driven by insatiable desire.”

Mr. Dalton coughs on his sip of bourbon.

Her eyebrows raise with concern. “Are you okay, Mr. Dalton?”

He coughs a few more times. “I’ll be fine. Perhaps that's enough bourbon for me tonight. Ahem.” He sets the glass down on the coffee table. “What, uh… what do you mean by ‘insatiable desire’ exactly?”

Their eyes meet, and she wonders if the room is only hot to her now, her word choice repeating over and over in her head. “Our entire experience of reality occurs through our senses. I indulge myself when possible, or logical, and it's made me feel so… alive.”

“Give me an example.” He says in a steady, but curious tone.

“Like… if you bite a strawberry slowly enough, the flavor absolutely bursts in your mouth. Savoring and eating are two different things, you know?” 

He swallows heavily, his eyes focused on her lips for a moment before the flash back to her eyes. “Right.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Her brow furrows and he shakes his head.

“No, not at all. On the contrary, I admire your passion. So few people share our kind of fire.” His eyes shift briefly to the photo on the wall before moving back to hers. “It can make life lonely, but it's all the sweeter when you finally encounter a kindred flame.”

Anna suddenly becomes hyper aware that they have shifted closer to each other throughout the conversation. Her breath catches as she holds his gaze, losing herself in his deep grey eyes. The silence should be more awkward given the circumstances, but it's almost comforting. 

“Anna…” Her name is like a promise on his lips, or maybe it's meant as more of a warning. 

She’s still deciding when a cool liquid runs across her hand, startling her back to reality. “Oh, no!” 

Flustered, she jumps up from the couch with her glass as Mr. Dalton pulls his handkerchief out of nowhere like a magician, doing his best to blot up the inevitable stain. 

Embarrassed, Anna covers her mouth with her free hand. “I’m sorry.”

He keeps his eyes focused on the sofa, possibly refusing to look up into hers. “It was my fault, really. No need to apologize. Let’s pretend it never happened.” He laughs softly, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly as he stands, heading towards the cabinet under the bar to grab some cleaner for the fabric. “Chalk it up to too much bourbon in general.”

She gets the brief feeling he isn't just talking about the spill, but she's eager to put whatever that was behind her as he reaches for her glass. “Yeah, I don't usually drink that much bourbon. Or at all, really.”

He glances at her as he puts both glasses back on the tray and clears his throat. “That’s good to know. Anyway, I let the time get away from me, and I still have something to show you. Let’s continue our walk, shall we?”

“Sure thing. Lead the way.” She turns to follow him down the hall, her head still spinning as she forces herself to focus. This is Sam Dalton. Billionaire, professional, potential boss. Possible career wish genie. What is wrong with me?

“Right in here.” Anna was not prepared for his sudden pause, barely managing to stop herself from colliding with him before it was too late. 

He opens the door and she follows him inside, eyes growing wide when she realizes where they were. The room is massive, and the bed, it was probably the size of her entire apartment bedroom. She suddenly has the urge to run forward and launch herself on it, knowing it has to be an amazing mattress. 

“Ms. Anna, did you hear me?” He gives her a small, concerned smile before handing her a folded piece of paper. 

He nods at the questioning look on her face so she opens it, holding her breath as she reads the number printed at the top. Her eyes gloss over the additional benefit details as he continues.

“If you want the job, it’s yours. You can move in here…” He raises his hand to the amazing space. “...your room, tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in mild disbelief.

Sam’s brow furrows as he gives her a curious look. “Is something wrong? I increased my normal salary amount to compensate for your higher education… I thought it would help cover remaining college expenses, but, if we need to renegotiate…”

Anna feels her eyes burn a little before her mouth falls open with an unexpected laugh. “No, no… Mr. Dalton--”

“Please, call me Sam.” He corrects her with a firm tone.

“Okay, Sam. This is… this is great. Thank you!” She impulsively steps forward and throws her arms around him in an elated hug, realizing only a second too late of her inappropriateness. 

It’s impossible to miss the feeling of every inch of his body along her own, making her skin flush at the contact. Even though she pulls back almost instantly, she doesn't miss the woody scent that invades her senses and the warmth that radiates from his tall frame. 

She shakes her head in embarrassment, letting out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry. Again. I hope you'll excuse me. It’s just… this opportunity means so much to me.”

He blinks, swallowing hard before offering her his hand with a gentle smile. “Think nothing of it. I appreciate your enthusiasm.” His smile falls and his eyes turn serious once more. “Is it alright if the boys continue to call you Ms. Anna? I think they really like that. A few of their past nannies were more... strict.”

Anna can't help but grin as her dreams, professionally at least, were starting to come true. “Of course! Anna is perfectly fine. I can't wait to move in and get to know you and your beautiful family even more… Sam.”

He gives her a pleasant smile and nods before stepping back into the hall and walking her to the elevator door. “Goodnight, Anna Schuyler.”

---------------------------

Anna’s nerve endings tingle with pleasure as she writhes on the bed, hips gently bucking. “Yes… yes!”

His gorgeous face rises from between her legs, lips lifted on one side in a knowing smile. Her eyes trail with admiration from his deep grey, sparkling eyes to his strong jaw and chiseled biceps. She grasps at the satin sheets beneath her, a desperate attempt to anchor herself as another wave of ecstasy breaks. A strong hand entwines its fingers with hers, holding her steady.

“Don’t… stop…” She breathes out.

Sam kisses his way up her chest, settling the length of his body against hers. “I must admit, this wasn't quite how I expected your first day on the job to go...” Sam’s feather-like touch drags across her breast as his face hovers over hers. “Are you ready to work hard for me, Anna?”

“Oh… yes.” She gazes suggestively over his body. “Anything you need.”

He pins her wrists over her head and grins before trailing hot kisses down her neck and chest, his tongue teasing her nipples through her bra. “Good, because I’m afraid this job requires long hours. We might be up all night…”

Anna’s lips come together with his in a passionate kiss. She feels like she’s on fire as his hands trail down to her hips. Suddenly, he flips them over so she’s straddling him, chest to chest as both breathe heavily. 

She moans as her center makes contact with the undeniable evidence of his desire, and her hips rock against his on their own volition. “Ohhh…”

His hands trace an electric path up her spine, reaching for the clasp of her bra. “I don't think you need this anymore.”

Anna gasps as her bra falls away and he sits up, grazing his lips over the bare skin of her breast, his tongue flicking out to tease the peak. She can't seem to catch her breath as the sensations become overwhelming. Just as the wave is about to break, a loud repetitive sound interrupts the pair. 

Anna spins her head to glare at the offensive sound, blinking as her vision turns blurry and she focuses on the same horrible clock from the previous morning. She bolts upright in bed, gasping for breath as she surveys the room, seeing the drastic difference from her apparent dream. “Damn, that felt real.”

The details of the dream begin fading, but the physical effects still linger. Her nerves are quivering, her skin is sweaty, and her heart is pounding. Anna groans as she rubs her face, mumbling through her fingers. “Focus Anna, he might be attractive… but he's your boss. Potentially providing a future at Dalton Enterprises. Forget it body.”

Her hands drop to her lap and she sighs. “Oh god, I can’t believe I just had a sex dream about my new boss.”

Eventually she manages to shake it off and get up to finish packing up her stuff. About an hour, some coffee and a bagel later, Anna turns to place her last bit of clothing into a box when she locks eyes with her best friend, Jenny. Said friend is currently sitting across the small efficiency apartment Anna has called home for the last few years on one of the worst sofa’s the world has ever created. 

“Anyway, the money’s great, the kids are adorable, and Sam is…” She hesitates, deciding how honest she wants to be about her new living situation and boss. “...great.”

Jenny eyes Anna, but she ignores her. “It’s basically a great way to kill time and make an impression while I figure out what to do post-grad, and if I’m lucky… find a way into an interview at the company.” Anna shrugs.

Jenny playfully rolls her eyes. “I get it, the biotech billionaire is ‘great’, but how hot is he?” 

Anna sighs as she closes the last box and turns to sit on the mattress before she continues. “Like on a scale of ‘clothes fresh from the dryer’ to ‘I’m chugging Tabasco’, he’s…”

Jenny gives her an encouraging look and Anna laughs. “Okay, he's Tabasco. Those eyes… that hair… not to mention the body on this man.” She shakes her head and gently slaps her knee. “But he’s my boss. So nothings going to happen.”

Jenny laughs. “I have to see this for myself.” She grabs her phone and does a quick search, her eyes growing wide as she finds what she's looking for. “Damn, he’s dreamy. Lookin’ gorgeous at this charity ball, lookin’ gorgeous shaking hands with our senator…” She bites her lip for a moment and looks up at Anna. “How exactly is he not married?”

Anna frowns. “His wife passed away… about five years go now, I believe he said.”

Jenny’s face instantly mirrors Anna’s as she looks at the pictures on her phone. “Well that's incredibly sad.” Her eyes flick to Anna. “Does that mean he's single?”

Anna rolls her eyes and throws a pillow at her friend. “Oh my god, Jenny. Do you think of nothing else?”

Jenny catches it without flinching. “I’m just curious. If you're not going to think about him in that capacity, why can't I?”

After threatening to kick Jenny out of the apartment, she decides to keep her mouth shut as they take Anna’s belongings, which consist of a few boxes and bags, to the street just as a nice looking older man steps out of a sleek black town car. 

He steps around the car and holds out his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Anna. I’m Carter, the Dalton family driver, occasional backup nanny.” He chuckles and Anna can't help but smile. “I'll be at your service today to assist with your move.”

Jenny gives Anna an amused smile but remains silent as she turns back to the friendly gentleman. “Wow, okay. I've never had my own personal driver before.” 

Carter smiles and hoists several of her bags from the ground before placing them in the trunk. Jenny helps her load the remaining couple of boxes and says her goodbyes as Carter opens the door for Anna.

Once seated inside, he closes the door and goes to the driver side and starts the car up again. “I hope you enjoy being with the Dalton family Ms. Anna.” 

Her gaze is pulled from the passing buildings to find his kind eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Mr. Dalton spoke highly of you this morning. Said he feels you’re the perfect addition to this family.”

“Thanks, Carter. I really appreciate that.” She gives him a warm smile, knowing Carter is already such an addition.

When they arrive at Sam’s building, the doorman helps Carter and Anna unload the items and directs someone inside to take them up to the apartment. 

She turns to give Carter a hug, which he gladly accepts. “Thank you again, Carter. That would have taken me probably four or five trips without your help.” 

He tips his hat and nods before handing over her own elevator key for the apartment. “Of course Ms. Anna. You’re family now. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything.”

She takes a deep breath as she enters the now familiar elevator, trying to clear her head as she thinks about the next chapter in her life. The doors open in what feels like seconds and she enters her new home.

Her eyes scan the luxurious space, still amazed by the large windows and beautiful wood floors. “I can get used to living here…”

Anna doesn't see anyone in the common space so decides not to interrupt and unpack instead. She pushes the door closed until it's just slightly ajar, intending to listen for anyone walking by. After turning to face her new room, she grins from ear to ear before launching herself onto the large bed. She lets out a sigh of relief as her body sinks into the firm but amazingly soft cloud the Dalton family apparently calls a mattress. 

“Oh yeah, I can definitely get used to living here.” She rolls over and stares through the large windows in her room. “I've never had a view that wasn't another building.”

She eventually forces herself to get up and unpack, deciding to pull her clothes out first to help avoid permanent wrinkles. Her limited hanger worthy items are safely stored in the closet, but she makes a mental note on how much additional space is available. She smiles, knowing her new income level will be a nice change from the starving student lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. 

Moving to the last duffel bag with clothing items, she grabs a stack of bras and picks a drawer in the dresser just for them. Again, she has plenty of room to expand if needed. Shrugging, she reaches back into the bag and grabs a handful of bottoms, some matching, some random, and turns towards the open drawer next to the bras. 

Anna tosses them all in, but pauses when a particular one she hadn't seen in awhile lands on top. She reaches in and picks up one of her favorite lacy pairs when she hears a knock. Startled by the sudden sound, she spins and faces the knock to find Sam peeking his head through the open door with a smile.

“I trust you’re settling in... okay?” Sam asks, his voice hesitating on the last part of his question as his eyes grow wide once landing on the obvious item in her hands.

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading! You’re all amazing and I appreciate every ounce of support I receive on my posts. Please reblog and share if you enjoyed it. Oh, and let me know what you think as well - I absolutely love to read your comments, reaction gifs, asks and messages. ❤️❤️❤️

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[pigeontheoneandonly]

For your WIP list: Childhood Friends AU and Collateral Damage?

Thank you!!

Childhood Friends AU answered here.

Collateral Damage is a one-shot fic about Nathaly’s first real deployment after training, on a planet called Aonia, which was mutually claimed by both the Alliance and the Hegemony.  Their two colonies were separated by an open battlefield, and locked in a stalemate.  (Laine is her C.O., which is how they got to know each other well, though they met in N1.) 

Shepard, who is still enlisted at this point, but working her way towards being admitted to OCS, eventually comes up with an idea to break the stalemate, based on exploiting a tactic the batarians have used to great effect on other battlefronts.  The Alliance is victorious, and are in the process of mopping up batarians, when the batarians learn who orchestrated their demise-- and that it was a lowly corporal.  Furious, they decide to take revenge.

The story is told after the fact, as Shepard relays it to Anderson.  It came out of a challenge to write a story backwards, and became a key part of her backstory.

(It’s also how Nathaly caused Laine to lose his leg, if you remember that little anecdote from one of the early flashbacks in Labyrinth-- he got hit by a grenade during the action, and he playfully blames her because it was her idea.)

Excerpt:

Shepard plunked the cigarette between her lips.  Her lighter flared against the twilight.  She inhaled, to convince the flame to catch, and blew out smoke.  “Where the hell is Cheng?”

Private Brill scratched under the neck of his hardsuit.  “Only thing less likely than us getting daylight patrols again is Cheng strutting out on schedule.”

The fourth member of their squad, Kozlow, snorted a laugh and stubbed out his own cigarette, grinding it into the Aonian dust.  The trees carpeting the Relagris river valley undulated in the light breeze. The wind was welcome; local high summer at this latitude usually meant steaming flat days that left even the water too hot to offer any relief.  Body armor only made it worse.

Shepard took another drag.  “Last time we had a daylight, three guys got shipped back to Arcturus with missing bits. The colony brass may be thick but they’d never be that stupid.”

“Never say never. You are talking about the guys who backed the L.T.’s crazy-ass plan to get at the batarian base.”  Brill paused.  “I’ll grant you it worked, though I don’t know that Lieutenant Laine’s too happy about sitting tight for a few months growing out the new leg.”

Shepard buried the flinch of guilt, and tapped off the cigarette.  “Cheng had better get her ass in gear.  Bravo Squad left more than ten minutes ago.  If I have to order a hold there’ll be hell to pay.”

Private Cheng emerged breathless from the barracks, slapping together the last pieces of her grenade launcher.  Shepard rolled her eyes.  “If you bothered to oil that thing once in a while, it might not take eons to assemble.”

“Fuck off.”

“I wouldn’t want to encroach on your specialization.”

“At least I’m not some bitch who thinks she’s an officer ‘cause she got some kind of probationary MOS change to N.  They give you little spec ops training wheels with that?”

Shepard regarded her evenly.  “Keep talking, and I’ll show you just how much of an officer I’m not.”

Cheng held her eyes a brief moment, and glanced off.  Shepard drew her rifle.  “This patrol won’t walk itself.  We’re due for rendezvous at Checkpoint Delta by 2100, so let’s move it.”

At approximately 2015, Shepard ordered a halt.  Two months after putting boots on the ground, the navy built a bridge over the river.  Since then, the batarians had blown it up three times.  The bridge was currently in its “intact” phase, and after the beating their main base recently took, Shepard doubted the batarians had the appetite to try again.  But it remained a choke point, albeit one she’d traversed a hundred times, and tonight something about it made her uneasy.

Kozlow’s brow furrowed.  “Shepard, what—”

“Shut up.” She took a few steps forward and raised her gun.  The wrongness was an itch at the back of her neck.  The bridge wasn’t much to look at— a cheap composite span three marines wide, no railing, maybe thirty meters long.  Thick shrubs clustered near the riverbank.  Further back, where they stood, trees rose up, their roots nibbling at the path and the thick march of trunks obscuring line-of-sight.

Cheng hiked her pack up higher on her shoulders and made a sound of exasperation.  “The longer we stand here the more my boots hurt.”

A puddle sat near the edge of the span.  This time of year, the river ran low and sluggish.  She could smell the algae bloom from here.  “Why is the bridge wet?”

Shots exploded out of the bushes on the far bank.  There was a pop as her shields collapsed.  She dove for the trees and plastered her back to a trunk.  A quick scan showed her team likewise positioned, all still standing, returning fire.  Her hand pressed to her ear, activating her comm.  “Alpha squad taking fire by the bridge!  Requesting backup!”

She knew full well this would be over before help arrived.  Shepard snuck a look over her shoulder.  Batarians pounded across the span.  It shook with every step, drumming the water up around their knees.  One slipped.  His comrades leapt over him and kept charging.

She angled her rifle low and let off a stream of shots at knee-height.  There was no aiming, just as many bullets as her weapon could supply, enough to overwhelm their shields and do some damage.  They were outnumbered two-to-one.  “Cheng!”

“Working on it!” The private couldn’t leave cover for even the few seconds it took to set the grenade launcher and light them up.

Another batarian collapsed, a victim of Shepard’s kneecapping.  Her cooling indicator slid towards the red.  She cursed, and switched to targeted shots, quick bursts to avoid overheating and losing the weapon entirely.  A lucky shot to the head took out a third.  Almost at even odds.

Cheng took a breath, swung out of cover, and sunk to one knee to brace herself, bringing the launcher up to her shoulder as she moved.  Even this economy of motion was too slow.  She fell back with a scream, her grenade launching high into the air.

Shepard never saw it explode.  A bag dropped over her head.  She whirled in place, wielding the rifle like a club at anything in range, felt it connect and heard a grunt.  But then other hands had her arms.  Something wet and foul pressed against the bag, over her face.  The fight disappeared, and though she started to fall, she never felt the impact of the ground.

Velvet black. Fuzzy pinpricks of white light. Blink.  Stars.  Sour stench— slime on her face, vomit— and the acrid tang of scorched grass.  Murmuring voices.  Alien. Batarian.  

The urgent realization was a shot of adrenaline.  She blinked again, trying to clear her head, trying to ascertain even a little of what was going on.

She came back to herself flat on her back, in a small clearing she didn’t recognize, with no sense of time at all beyond “later”.  Much later, judging by the darkness.  The bag was gone.  Someone had zip-tied her hands and feet.  Shadows moved in the meager moonlight, none of them paying her any mind at all.  Her translator was useless at these volumes. After eighteen months on this rock, she’d picked up a decent amount Dherak— the Hegemony state language— but not enough to catch much meaning from whispers.  

Somewhere to her left, she heard the low hum of a shuttle.  Her heart’s pounding accelerated.  She wriggled her hands, but found no slack in her bonds.  Shepard could get her feet under her and stand, she was certain of it, but hopping away would never work.  If she could reach her knife…

She rolled onto her side, ignored the nauseous lurch in her stomach, and curled into a ball so her hands could reach her boot.  She could have died of relief when her fingers brushed the haft.  But the position was awkward, trying to grip it with her arms lashed behind her, and she fumbled it into the grass.  Shepard sucked in a breath and wriggled in a circle, searching.

“Stupid bitch,” said a voice from across the clearing, loud enough for her translator to pick up.  Not that she needed it for curses.  Everyone learned those first.

She scrabbled at the ground.  If she could just get her legs free before he reached her—

Her fingers closed around the handle.  She bent backwards, slashing at her bonds, not caring whether she stabbed herself, because that was better than staying here and much better than being packed onto that shuttle.  Footsteps stomping towards her.  The blade stuck in the dirt.  She tried again—

A hand grabbed her wrist, none too gently, and jerked the knife away.  Shepard stared up at him with eyes that could burn holes through steel.  He turned the knife over in his hands.  “Clever. I won’t ask where you hid it.”

She spat at him, but lacked the necessary projection.  It fell on her shoulder.  He chuckled.  “You won’t make a fool of me twice, little girl.  You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Moon’s just about set,” said a second batarian.  “We need to move.”

“First things first.”  He shoved her shoulder, hard and without warning, pushing her onto her stomach. Before she could roll any further, his knee crushed into her spine with all his weight behind it.  The air went out of her.  She couldn’t move.

“Fuck you,” she wheezed.

That he ignored. His burly hand gripped the back of her head, holding it still.  “Can’t have your pesky Alliance tracking you.”

She felt cold steel press against her ear and had barely a moment to comprehend what was about to happen before he began to cut.  Her body bucked with all its might, as much a reaction to the searing fire engulfing the right side of her head as a fight for survival.  He grunted his irritation and increased his grip.  “Blame your navy for wiring you with an internal comm.”

Blood spilled down her face, filling her mouth with hot iron.  She made a second, feebler attempt to throw him off.  

This time, he lifted her head by her scalp and slammed it full force into the ground. Her nose splattered.  An odd ringing filled her head, and she found she couldn’t focus her eyes, or string even half a thought together.

“Stop squirming,” he said.

She lay still, too dazed to offer even a curse, as he resumed his work.  At some point she blacked out, and the second time she came around, she was bundled on the floor of the shuttle, staring at batarian legs.

They’d wrapped wire about her, an improvised rope to prevent all but the smallest movements. She took some grudging pride in that. Her ear and nose still hurt terribly, but that had gone on awhile now, and she found she could think past it.  A similar, less urgent pain in her forearm suggested they took her omni-tool as well.  And she was dressed in only her thin undersuit.  Her hardsuit, and its biomonitoring suite that was perhaps her last hope of being quickly located, was nowhere to be seen.

The same batarian spoke a few sentences, to general laughter.  She caught maybe a third of it, her translator gone with the rest— something about a woman, her, and something about not being dead.  

Shepard concentrated on counting her breaths.  Once they got wherever they were going, when they had to move her again, she’d find an opportunity.  She just had to hold together until then.