#She's the one keeping flex tape in business

[ciircex-old]

You go to Circe to fix a tear or perhaps your missing a button? She fixes it by flex taping it.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (8)

Part Eight

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, no smut, ANGST, explicit language, lots of dialogue, (forgive me if I missed any)

heads up: 7.8k word count

Masterlist

21 Days 

Heavy grunts filled the room as Terry landed hard punches into the bag that hung from the ceiling. Jab, Hook, Uppercut, Jab. This was how he spent the last few weeks to keep himself busy and keep his mind off of her. It had been 21 days since their last encounter and Terry did everything he could to not remind himself of it. 

There was hardly any room for downtime in this new rigorous routine he chose to stick to. He’d go to work, then head directly to the gym, then go to Summers and lastly he’d head home. If he spent every day how he planned, he’d get home late enough just so all he had time to do was shower, have dinner and go to bed and do it all over again the next day. 

His weekends were spent at the boxing gym. Hours would fly by, boxers would pour in and out and he’d still be releasing all of his frustrations in the dimly lit gym. His hands were wrapped in white tape, sweat dripping from his body causing the thin wife beater to stick to his torso. His muscles flexed as he threw the punches into the large bag. 

“Aye T, it’s about that time man.” The owner of the gym announced, letting Terry know that they were preparing to close the gym for the night. 

Terry threw the last punch, causing the bag to quickly fly away from him and fall back into place with great force. He caught it as he looked over at the owner, nodding to let him know he heard him and that he was leaving. 

Once he dropped by to shower at his place, he headed back out to Summers to find something to fix, even if there was nothing that needed fixing. He was avoiding his thoughts as much as he could, afraid to face the harsh truths that he was somewhat already aware of. 

“Terry, it's freezing out here! You can come in and get some hot cocoa if you want.” Summer yelled from the patio door, squeezing her coat tightly around her body. 

“I’m good.” He responded, slamming the axe down the center of the wood sending it flying into two smaller pieces. He picked up another short log and placed it where the last one once was before sending the axe down the center of it. 

“You’ve been out here for hours, I think you’ve chopped enough wood for the whole neighborhood Terry.” 

Terry ignored her and kept chopping, unphased by her constant attempts at getting him to stop what he was doing. 

Summer stepped out of the house and shut the patio door. Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she walked over to him and stood a few feet away from him, making sure she wasn’t hit by the logs or the axe he was swinging. “You know avoiding this isn’t going to make it go away.” 

Terry chopped the last piece of wood and turned to look at Summer. His breathing was heavy, each exhale visibly ascending into the air as the warmth of his breath met the cold temperatures. Summer could see the frustration in his face but that wasn’t going to stop her from getting him to face his current reality. 

“It’s okay that you actually have feelings for her, but filling your days with heavy labor isn’t going to make those feelings go away.” 

“I hope you’re not telling me I should try and work it out with her.” He said, grabbing another log and placing it a few feet in front of him. “You think I’m wrong?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m not saying you’re wrong at all! You had every right to react the way you did. However, you’re not completely innocent in this either.��� 

Terry turned his attention to her once again and frowned at her words.

“She didn’t tell me she talked to you Summer. She lied to you, tried to intimidate you just to get me. Then lied to me about it.” He tilted his head, somewhat confused at how he could be at fault in any of this. 

“You lied to me about who sent the check for Bailey, I’m not mad at you.” 

“That’s not the same thing.” Terry stood there shaking his head at Summers' responses. “I didn’t tell you exactly who sent you the check, but I did tell you it was from a friend that’s not lying to you.”

“Omitting information is still lying, Terry, whether you want to admit it or not.” Terry rolled his eyes at that statement as he remembered Khloé uttering the same exact words to him. He could see her lips moving so clearly in his mind, jaw clenching as he remembered them emptying him moments before.  

“Did you really think the same woman paying you to help her lie to her own parents was going to be completely honest when it came to keeping you by her side?” Summer started, “You had an idea of who she was before you fell for her. You knew she could be a bit of a bitch, you knew she hid the truth from whoever she saw fit and yet you still fell for her. Now you’re trying to pin this whole situation on her to avoid the fact that you played a huge part in all of it.” Summer was right and Terry couldn’t stand it one bit. 

“That’s not what I’m doing at all.” He denied, turning his attention back to the small cuts of wood.

“You’re also using this as an excuse to run from possibly loving someone and letting them love you after years of being by yourself.” 

“I was getting paid to be with her, it was never that serious on my end.” Terry lied through his teeth, turning his face away from Summer so she wouldn’t be able to see through his bullshit. 

“You’ve ignored every phone call but you watch it ring until she stops calling. You haven’t responded to her texts but you read each and every last one of them. Every attempt she’s made at trying to fix what she messed up, you won’t let her do it but you don’t want her to give up either. So tell me, what’s really stopping you from hearing her out?” Sumer was pressing the issue and it was making Terry grow more irritated the more she spoke. 

Terry dropped the axe to the ground and brushed past Summer, making his way into the kitchen to make himself some hot chocolate. Summer trailed right behind him, not letting him get off easy. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” 

“Summer please.” 

“Terry you’re working yourself like crazy, eventually you’re gonna burn out and then you’ll be forced to sit with this.” Summer said, unmoved by the look he was giving her. “Khloé was dead wrong but at least she has a bit of remorse for what she did and deep down you feel some remorse too.”

Terry poured the hot beverage into a large coffee mug and made his way to the dining table, not bothering to respond to Summer. 

“What is the real reason you’re running from this?” Summer pulled a chair back from the table and sat across from Terry. “You love her don’t you?” 

Terry stared at Summer for a few seconds before looking back down at his cup. He didn’t have to respond with a yes, it was already obvious to Summer. 

“What’s so wrong with that Terry?” 

“I’m a broke ass Veteran with a 600 sq ft apartment and a pick up truck. I wear khakis five days out of the week and sweats on the weekends. I barely got any money to my name and the money I did have was coming from her.” Terry shot back, finally revealing his true insecurities. He sat back in the chair staring down at the ground, temples aching from clenching his jaw so much. 

The truth was he didn’t feel like much of a man when he replayed the entire situation in his mind. His ego was taking a huge hit when he ran down everything he had agreed upon in their deal. The plan was never to catch feelings for her but somehow he did. However the thought of him being with a woman who can have it all, who has had it all, was puzzling considering the fact that he didn’t know where he would fit in her life. Khloé didn’t need him for anything but a part of him wanted to feel like a necessity for her. 

If he’s not providing for her, putting her up in nice houses, renting luxury vehicles for her, then what would he be there for? 

“She could have any man she wants, any guy in the world, why would she want so badly to be with me?” Terry leaned forward, elbows on the table as he continued ignoring Summers' eyes. 

“Maybe because none of that actually matters to her, Terry.” Summer responded. “Maybe she’s not as superficial as she pretends to be.” 

Terry scoffed at that last statement.

“Khloé had you put on a front to impress her family, but when you two were alone, just the two of you together, who did she want you to be? Some egotistical rich guy with millions and connections around the city? Or did she want you to be yourself?” 

Terry ran his hands down his face and let out a deep sigh. It was still too hard for to accept the fact that Khloé had actually fallen for him too. 

“Her parents won’t approve of this shit anyways, once they find out who I really am I don’t stand a chance.” 

Summer rolled her eyes letting out a sigh of frustration. “Y’all are both so worried about those people’s approval, their opinions don’t matter!”

“Wait so you’re on her side now?” 

“Hell no and don’t try to deflect.” Summer shot back, pointing a finger at him. “I’m just saying that the both of you are searching for every excuse not to do what you want to do all because of a few opinions and the thoughts you are creating in your mind. Terry sitting back and watching you wear yourself out everyday trying to run from this is stressful for me. You can forgive her, but you also have to overcome your own insecurities as well.” With that, Summer stood from the table and left to check on Bailey, leaving Terry to think to himself.

73 text messages, 101 missed calls and a voicemail for every other one of them. Khloé had spent the last 21 days reaching out to Terry, begging him to speak to her ever since their last interaction with each other. That oh-so very intense conversation that had completely rocked her to her core. 

She slowly rolled over in her bed and eyed the clock on her night stand that read 3:45pm. Groaning, she threw the thick comforter off of her body and dragged herself to the bathroom. She eyed her reflection in the mirror completely unaware of who was staring back at her. Her hair that was usually pressed straight had returned to its normal state, kinky and curly. The thick curls lazily rested on her shoulders as she bent down into the sink to splash cold water on her face. 

Khloé was suffering from yet another hangover after drowning herself in bottles of wine almost every night. She stood up straight, gripping the edge of the sink as she closed her eyes. Her head was killing her. The pounding migraine only got worse as she heard a loud knock at her front door. 

Slowly walking to the door, not an ounce of urgency in her steps, her house slippers scraped against the tile floor. After a long dreadful trip down the long hall, she had finally reached the entrance. Pulling the door back without bothering to see who it was, she stared at her assistant uninterestedly. 

“Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia asked in a shocked tone, eyeing her boss up and down. 

“What is it Liv?” Khloé turned on her heels and headed into the kitchen to grab herself something to eat. 

“You haven’t been to the warehouse in weeks, are you okay?” Olivia said, stepping into the condo as she looked around, nose scrunching in disgust from the smell of the cluttered condo. 

The place was a mess. Wine bottles sat open on the counters, coffee table and computer desk, some empty, some half full. Dirty clothes were sprawled out everywhere across the floor and take out containers sat open bringing an unpleasant smell into the home. Olivia carefully tiptoed over the random piles of clothing, making sure not to step on anything. Even though they were collecting dirt from the floor, they were still designer pieces. 

Khloé grabbed a pack of graham crackers and plopped down on her couch. Grabbing the remote to her tv, she powered it on and went straight to her comfort show “That’s So Raven”. 

“I was trying to give you some space because I assumed you needed it but this is out of control.” Olivia spoke bluntly, standing right next to the television.

“Liv, I’m not in the mood right now.” Khloé stated dryly. 

“You have totally lost yourself! I never thought I’d see the day where you stop giving a damn about your looks and your space.” 

“Olivia please!” 

Olivia began picking up the random pieces of clothing and placed them in the laundry basket that sat empty for weeks. 

“Are you even going to be at your parents house for Sunday dinner tomorrow? I mean what is your mother going to say if she sees you like… this?” She eyed Khloé up and down, scanning down from her messy hair to her worn out clothes. 

“Fuck her.” Khloé spat. She sat up and reached for the unfinished bottle of Merlot that sat right in front of her. “She’s the reason I’m in this shit now.” 

“Well…” Olivia trailed off. 

Khloés eyes snapped in Olivia’s direction as she lowered the bottle from her lips. “Well what?” 

“I mean she does play a huge part in why you are the way you are, but you made this mess yourself Ms. MacArthur. You’re the reason why Terry isn’t here.” Olivia stated matter of factly. 

“If it wasn’t for her fucked up advice, I would still have him here.”

“You know the type of woman your mother is, why would you take her advice and actually think it would help you.” 

Khloé stared at Olivia with a strong look of disgust on her face “Shut up Liv.” She finally said, bringing the bottle back up to her lips. 

“You shut up!” Olivia dropped the clothes from her hands and marched over to Khloé, snatching the wine bottle from her grasp. “You can try and find someone else to blame for your fuck up, but I’m not the one you’re mad at. You’re not mad at Summer, hell you’re not even mad at your mother. You’re mad at your damn self!” Olivia grabbed two other wine bottles and made her way into the kitchen, emptying the bottles into the sink. 

“You’re so afraid to live your life the way you choose so you take it out on everyone who actually cares for you.” 

Khloé smacked her teeth and stood from the couch, walking into her bedroom to get away from the sound of Olivia’s voice. Olivia followed her, not letting up on her boss whatsoever. 

“If you want to know my opinion-“ 

“I don’t want to know your opinion, I didn’t ask!” Khloé shot, turning toward Liv.

“Terry shouldn’t come back!” Olivia watched as Khloés top lip twitched as they both stood in place. Olivia placed her weight on one leg as she finished delivering the blow. “Maybe you’ll learn from this and stop treating people like your footstools. Maybe he’ll find someone else, someone with a little more integrity and genuine confidence.” 

Khloés eyes began to water from pure anger. Her fists were balled so tightly, her knuckles were starting to ache. She could feel her throat swelling as she tried to fight the urge to cry. “Get out.”

“It’s about time you had a reality check and this was it. You cannot continue going through life being a bitter bitch because you’re too afraid to stand up to your mother.” 

“Get out!” Khloé screamed, voice cracking as she tried to swallow her tears. Her hands shook tremendously while her chest rose underneath the pajama set she had been in for the third day now. 

“I’ll leave Ms. MacArthur, but if you don’t get it together, Terrys not the only person you’re gonna lose. You’re gonna look up and realize you lost yourself too.” Olivia stated, returning to the living room to grab her things. Khloé stared at the wall until she heard the front door close. 

She walked back into the living room searching around for another bottle, one Olivia had missed. Her eyes landed on her computer desk, thankful that she hadn’t run out of the only thing keeping her warm throughout the night. She turned the bottom of the bottle directly into the air only to realize it was empty, not a drop left in the glass. 

“Ugh!!!!” The loud shatter of glass filled the room as she aimed right at the wall, watching the bottle explode into small pieces. She dropped to the floor and sobbed, rocking back and forth trying to gain her composure. Trying to fight the sobs that left her lips was pointless as the tears continued to pour regardless of her restraint.

She held onto the couch as her other hand rested on her chest. Her heart was breaking. It wasn’t because of Terry but simply for herself. She had spent so many years trying to fake it to be liked, putting on a front to be loved. Just for her to realize that no matter how hard she tried, it still didn’t fill that empty void she felt every single day. It was like she was chasing after something that she would never be able to reach. 

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she decided to no longer fight against it. Years of disappointment were flowing through her tears, a lifetime of heartache released in every sob. She needed all of it to leave her body for good, so she could start fresh. A brand new slate for her to finally begin to feel whole for once in her life. 

Eyes slowly opening, waiting to come into focus, she blinked a few times trying to remember where she was. The sounds of Disney shows played quietly in the background as she lifted her head from the couch. After a long night of weeping, she fell into a deep slumber in the living room. Sitting up from the sofa, she grabbed the remote and pressed the home button to see what time it was. 

5:00pm 

Khloé had slept for just about 12 hours straight. This was a much needed rest. Standing from the couch she looked around at her place, still a mess, as was she. She started picking up the clothes that laid on the floors, throwing away the old to go boxes and trashed the last couple of bottles that were left. 

After a good two hours of cleaning up her place, she ran herself a bath. Scents of lavender and vanilla filled the room and inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting scents. Throwing her hair into a messy bun, she sank into the warm water and stared up at the shower head. She was trying to come up with a way to help jumpstart this brand new slate. The first thing that came to her mind was her family. 

She had a little time left to make it to the dinner but she decided not to rush. They weren’t going anywhere any time soon. Finally building up the courage to step out of her home, she took a quick shower to wash off all of the dirt and energy they had built up over the past few days. 

Stepping out of the tub, she began her usual routine as if it was never interrupted. Body butters, face oils, and leave in conditioner for her hair. 

Khloé stared at the reflection for a while, taking in this somewhat new version of herself. It had been so long since she’d seen herself in her complete natural state. No silk press, no bold makeup, no red lipstick, no business attire, just plain Khloé and she embraced it. 

She threw on a pink Juicy Couture tracksuit and sand colored Uggs. Placing a matching headband right at her hairline, she pushed her curls back so that they weren’t falling in her face but framing it. Small diamond earrings in each ear and a bracelet to match, she looked like teenage Khloé again, the real Khloé. God how she missed her. 

Khloé walked up to the front door of her parents house ringing the doorbell. After a few seconds, the large doors opened revealing Lucille, the family cook, a look of shock that quickly softened on her face as she eyed Khloé. 

“Are you alright dear?” Lucille asked, stepping aside to let Khloé in. 

“Never better.” She replied with a soft smile, pushing past her and making her way to the formal dining room to join her family for Sunday dinner. Khloé walked into the dining room, greeting her sister and a few other family members as she took a seat at the table right next to her. 

“No silk press, no stilettos, no red lip?” Kandace asked. 

“Nah, I like the natural look on me.” Khloé smiled, looking over at her big sister. 

Kandace nodded with an approving smile as they waited for the rest of the family to pour into the room. The two girls engaged in deep conversation, discussing the most important topic at the moment, what Khloé was going to do next in this Terry situation. Khloé simply assured her sister that she’d handle it her way and that no matter what happened afterwards, she would be fine.

“Kandace, Khlo.” Nia greeted as she walked into the room, placing her tote on the floor and taking a seat directly across from Khloé. 

Kandace greeted Nia but Khloé simply nodded her head, turning her attention back to her sister. Nia stared at Khloé with a smirk on her face, aware that this sudden change in her appearance meant something had gone on with her. 

‘Terry must’ve left her for good.’ She thought to herself, proud that she had gotten what she wanted. 

“Khloé my dear, how are you?” Mrs. MacArthur greeted loudly as she entered into the dining room, arms out for a hug as she took in her daughter's appearance. “What’s the matter with your head?” 

“Nothing, I wanted to wear it curly today.” Khloé stated, standing to embrace her mother. 

“Hopefully it returns back to normal very soon.” Her mother stated, lightly squeezing her daughter and quickly releasing her once she realized- “Terrance isn't coming?” 

“No mom, he’s not.” Khloé replied, sitting back down as she braced herself for what would come after she broke the news. 

“Well why not?” Mr. MacArthur asked, taking a seat in his usual chair at the end of the long table, his wife taking her seat as well.

Khloé looked over at her father, his eyebrows raised as he waited for her response. “We’re not together anymore.” 

Mrs. MacArthur let out a rather frustrated sigh as she sat back in her chair. “My God, what have you done now?” 

“She took your evil ass advice and he found out about it.” Kandace shot. 

“You’re not supposed to date workers anyway, that’s against the rules isn’t it Uncle John?” Nia asked in an innocent tone, trying to mask her true intentions. 

“Well yes but-“ Mr. MacArthur began, turning his attention to Khloé. “Terrance isn’t a worker of mine.” 

“Oh but he is.” Nia stated, reaching under her chair into her tote and placing a folder on the table in front of Mr. MacArthur. It was Terry’s work file, the same one Khloé had spent hours going over the day she met him. “He works at the Greenville location. That’s how she found him and convinced him to pose as her boyfriend, dangling a few dollars in his face so he’d agree.”

Khloé’s heart sank as she stared at the folder then up at Nia, her eyes burning holes in Nia’s face. She wanted to be the one to tell them the truth, it was supposed to jumpstart her brand new slate but Nia had beat her to the punch unbeknownst to her for the second time.

“You should really be careful of how loud you speak, someone might be listening.” Nia whispered harshly across the table. 

“Why would you need to pay someone to be with you?” A family member a few seats over asked. 

“All of the men in the city and you chose a warehouse worker?” Another member of the family muttered. 

“Wait, why does Nia know this? Why is she just walking around with his file?” Kandace asked, looking over at her dad. 

“I’ve been running the routine checkups for the warehouses, since Khloé has been too busy with her fake boyfriend.” Nia stated, staring directly at Khloé. “Searched his name and he popped right up in the employee directory.” 

Khloés head snapped in her dads direction. “Why is she doing my job?” 

“It was only going to be temporary sweetheart, we knew you were enjoying your time with Terrance. We didn’t want to interrupt.” Mr. MacArthur stated in defense.

“Just for all of it to end up a farce.” Mrs. MacArthur spat as she stared at her daughter. “God Khloé, who taught you to be so desperate?” 

“You did!” Khloé yelled, her voice silencing the entire room. “You taught me how to be so desperate for a fucking man!” 

“Khloé!” Mr. MacArthur yelled. 

“Every time I come around I’m reminded of how lonely I am! How I have no children, no man, no ring! I can’t just be happy being single because something has to be wrong with me.” Khloé was fuming, directing all of her anger at the one she felt deserved it most. “Trying so damn hard to impress you and I end up losing the one man I actually loved and who probably loved me too.” 

“Oh Khloé you’re pathetic!” Mrs. MacArthur shot back. “You had one job and you couldn’t even keep a warehouse worker happy? A man you were paying? You are obviously the problem, don’t blame your shortcomings on me!” 

“I took your dumbass advice and it blew up in my face. ‘Get rid of her Khloé, you’ll lose him to someone less deserving, get rid of the friend’.” Khloé mocked her mom’s voice, appearing a bit childlike as she spoke. “How do you even stomach her, there’s no way she’s a good wife to you!” She spat, turning to her dad. 

“Oh she was a good side chick first then she graduated to wife status.” Kandace stated calmly, taking a sip of her wine. 

“Shut up Kandace!” Mrs. MacArhur yelled, slamming her hand on the table causing glasses to tremble from the impact. 

“Kandace, that’s enough!” Mr. MacArthur demanded. 

“Tell Khloé how you used that same bullshit advice on my mother too except you must’ve really had some dirt on her because she disappeared for a really long time until she found the nerve to come back.” Kandance sat back and folded her arms, waiting for Mrs. MacArthur to respond. Mrs. MacArthur just sat there, breathing heavily as her body shook with rage. 

“Wait what?” Khloé looked back and forth between her parents and Kandace. The rest of the family sat silently, just as confused as Khloé was. “Your mother? What the hell is Kandace talking about?”

“Angela’s not my mother Khloé, but admitting that would ruin her image of a “perfect family” so they decided to keep it a secret from everyone including me and you.” Kandace’s gaze never left Mrs. MacArthurs, daring her to speak. 

“What?” Khloé asked, her voice just above a whisper. She started down the table at her mother who was clearly filled with rage but decided to act as if nothing was bothering her. “If moms not Kandace’s mother then who is?” 

“She lives alone down in Lafayette, a small home and a few pets to keep her company. Apparently she was dad’s first and only love, but Angela was too jealous and far too overlooked to take rejection from the only man who gave the smallest bit of attention.” 

“You are the most ungrateful, selfish piece of work I have ever known.” Mrs. MacArthrur spat leaning against the table. 

“So she threatened to spread the news of my mother being an 18 year old preacher's daughter who ended up pregnant and unmarried by a guy her family knew nothing about, to everyone around town.” Kandace began, “Only problem was, I was already born and her dumbass was a few months too late.” 

“Dad couldn’t get a hold of my mom so he was stuck with me all by himself but a child needs a mother, so he unfortunately stayed with Angela because she was his last and only option.” Kandace looked over at her Dad. “Traveling the world will have you meeting some of the most interesting people, so imagine my surprise when I meet a woman a few years ago during a pottery class who tells me she thinks I’m her daughter.” 

Mr. McArthur's head hung a bit low, too ashamed to look his daughters in the face. “Kandace, I-“

“I’m the only mother you’ve ever known and the only woman your father ever loved.” Mrs. MacArthur shot through gritted teeth. 

“Wait!” Kandace laughed, placing a hand on her chest. “Guess who’s paying for her home in Lafayette?” Kandace continued laughing, watching as Mrs. MacArthur’s face slowly dropped into a frown. “Those solo business trips come in handy don’t they dad?” 

Khloé turned to look at her mother, not a word was said but her expression told the entire story. She had spent her whole life trying her hardest to get her mothers approval because from her perspective her mother had done everything right and the universe rewarded her for it. All for it to turn out that her mothers a fraud… just like she is. 

Mrs. MacArthur looked to her husband and then around the table, the family members whispering about not caring that she sat right in their faces. She pushed her chair back from the table and stormed out of the dining area, knocking over a glass of wine on her exit. 

“The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree does it?” Khloé asked the rhetorical question aloud, the same one Terry had spat at her during his enraged rant. “I have to get the hell away from here.” Khloé grabbed her things and headed straight for the door, ignoring the calls coming from her sister and her father. 

Snatching the car keys from her purse, she pressed the unlock button repeatedly until she reached the door, practically detaching it from the car. The car started and she pulled out of the horseshoe driveway and sped down the road with no knowledge as to where she was going, she just knew she needed to get far away from there. 

“Bailey, don’t forget your mittens!” Summer yelled to her daughter. 

“Okay!” Bailey responded back. 

Summer wrapped the scarf tightly around her neck as she prepared to go out into the backyard to finish making the snowman she and Bailey had been working on all day. Constantly running back into the house afraid the fireplace would cause a house fire, they finally built up the courage to go back out and finish their project. 

*Ding Dong* 

Summers' head snapped in the direction of the front door. Staring up at the clock that read 7:45pm she wondered who could be at her door at this time but quickly remembered her good friend who was using every excuse he had to visit her just to keep himself busy. 

“He has got to go home and stay there.” Summer mumbled as she walked to the door. Twisting the locks one at a time, she finally reached the door knob and twisted it pulling back the heavy door. The person who stood on the other side of the threshold was a complete shock to her. 

“Khloé?” Summer asked, eyeing her up and down noticing the drastic change in her appearance. 

“Hi, I hope it’s not too late but I wanted to talk to you if that’s okay.” Khloé stated softly. 

Summer continued staring at her silently before nodding her head. 

“I just wanted to apologize for coming to your job trying to break up you and Terry’s friendship. It was really out of line and I-“ Khloé stopped, looking around for the words to say. Apologizing had never been Khloés thing but there’s a first time for everything. 

“Come in.” Summer said, holding the screen door open for Khloé to enter. 

Khloé walked in, looking around instantly feeling the warm comfort of the small home. Summer pointed to the couch signaling for Khloé to have a seat. 

“Can I ask you why you felt the need to do that?” Summer asked, sitting across from her. 

“Insecurity, fear…” Khloé started, rubbing the palms of her hands down her thighs. She was debating on if she should be totally honest with Summer but then again what did she have to lose right? “Look, all my life I’ve wanted to be seen and accepted by everyone; family, friends, classmates, teachers, my own parents. I wanted people to care for me simply because they wanted to without needing to perform for the affection.” 

“The way I would watch Terry drop everything and come to your rescue, the way he used most of the money I offered him to help you, I just wanted that feeling as well and once I got it I didn’t want to let it go. I didn’t even plan on falling in love with him but then I started feeling jealous of you guys’ friendship. Thinking about him returning back to his life without me in it once all of this was over wasn’t something I wanted to happen so I thought getting rid of you would prevent me from losing him.” 

Summer stared at Khloé empathetically. “Why not just be honest about how you felt? I’m sure he would’ve understood.” 

“I was afraid he wouldn’t feel the same way. I was paying him to be there, it wasn’t like I could tell if he genuinely wanted to be.” Khloé stared down at the floor. “I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not at the moment.” 

Summer looked over at the clock and back to Khloé. 

“Can you stay here for a while longer?” Summer asked. “Terry is on his way over and it’s about time you guys talked. You really need to hear the truth from each other.” 

“He’s not gonna talk to me.” 

“He doesn’t have a choice at this point. He’s been keeping himself so busy trying not to think about you, constantly coming to check up on me and Bailey when we don’t even need it.” Summer said, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “So sit here, he’ll be here in just a minute.” 

The sound of a loud engine humming made Khloés eyes grow wide. Tires scratching against the pavement, bright lights shining through the window, it was Terry. 

“Can I use your bathroom?” Khloé asked a bit louder than intended, looking back and forth from the door waiting for Summers' answer. 

“Sure, second door to the left.” Summer pointed in the direction of the bathroom, taken aback by the sudden nervousness that had taken over Khloé. Here she was feeling somewhat intimidated by her just to watch her damn near jump out of her skin at the sound of Terry’s presence. 

“Summer!” Terry announced, pushing through the door holding bags in both hands. “I got some more papers for the fireplace.” 

“We already have plenty but thank you again T.” Summer said dryly, grabbing the bags from Terrys hands. 

“Whose car is that outside?” Terry asked, frowning as he stared out the window. He pushed the blinds down, squinting as tried to see through the car's tinted windows.

“Someone here for you.” She responded. 

Terrys head turned in surprise. “For me?” 

Summer nodded. “You came at the perfect time, they’ll be out in a sec.” 

“Who came by here looking for me?” 

The sound of light footsteps coming down the hall interrupted their congestion as Khloé made her way back to the living room. Terry hadn’t turned around yet, assuming it was Bailey coming to the kitchen to grab a snack. 

Summer cleared her throat, gaining Terry’s attention before nodding her head in Khloés direction. Khloé’s heart practically fell out of her chest when his eyes landed on her. Terry turned to see her standing in the doorway, taken aback as he took in her appearance, she looked beautiful. Almost younger than she had before. He noticed everything about her; the curls in her hair, the way her bare skin glowed, the bright color she wore complimenting her tone and the accessories that were so subtle yet not going unnoticed by him. This change in her appearance fit her so well. 

“You two need to talk, bad!” Summer stated, walking away before Terry could protest. “Come on Bailey, it’s getting dark out.” 

“Coming!” Bailey yelled, rushing to the front to follow her mom to the back yard. She greeted Terry with a quick wave as she sprinted out of the patio door to finish working on her snowman. Summer shut the door and eyed Terry through the glass, raising her brows before turning away and following behind her daughter. 

Terry and Khloé stood in silence, the sound of the refrigerator humming being the only sound in the room. Her mouth began to water from the nervous feeling that had taken over. 

“Hi.” Khloé greeted, her voice low as ran her hands up and down her sides, attempting to calm her nerves. 

Terry looked down at the ground before looking back up at her. “Hi.” He responded dryly. 

“I came to talk to Summer but she insisted I stay until you got here.” She stated, with a nervous smile. 

“Wonder why she thought that was a good idea.” He mumbled. 

“I’m sorry Terry.” Khloé said, stepping further into the room. “I don't know what I was thinking, going to Summers' job and making up those things to get her to stop talking to you. I was wrong and I’m sorry, honestly.” 

Terry stayed silent, staring at her as she looked up at him. His silence made her anxiety grow greater as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her nervousness was so obvious and she knew it was, but she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. 

“Can you say something?” Khloé asked, tilting her head slightly. 

Terry folded his arms over his chest trying to appear nonchalant but he was only fooling himself. In the last five years, no one other than those racist cops in Shelby Springs had gotten him to act so out of character. Here he was facing the only person who could pull such intense emotion out of him. He cared a lot more than he wanted to admit. 

“What would you like me to say?” 

“Whatever you want to say, anything!” 

“I accept your apology.” He stated, blankly staring down at her. 

Khloés eyes dropped to the floor. She was hoping he had more to say but his silence let her know that he was done speaking. They sat in silence once again, Terry continued staring at her while she refused to look up at him. He exhaled loudly, clenching his jaw as he prepared himself to do something he didn’t think he would be doing with another woman; be vulnerable. 

“Come here.” He instructed, dropping his hands to his sides and leaning back onto the arm of Summer’s couch. 

Khloé obliged, walking up to him until their feet were almost touching. 

“I don’t know exactly what you want me to say to you or what you want me to do. But I can tell you what I’m not doing.” Terry started, dropping his head down a bit to somewhat meet her at eye level. “I’m not putting on a front for your people, I’m not lying for you anymore and I’m not ending my friendship with Summer.” 

Khloé’s eyes darted back and forth between his eyes as he spoke. She didn’t give a damn that he was still being a bit cold with his tone, at least he was talking to her again. 

“I can’t play this game with you, although I agreed to in the beginning, too many lines have been blurred. So with that said, I’m going to be honest with you and then you’re gonna be honest with me, understood?” 

Khloé nodded a bit too eagerly, she was just happy they were getting somewhere. 

Terry went on to share with Khloé the same truths he shared with Summer a day prior. He admitted to having feelings for her and how tough it had been trying to erase her from his mind over the last few weeks. Telling her about his struggle with dating someone as wealthy as she is was challenging for him, but he continued anyway. He spoke about how he didn’t actually think she really wanted to be with him, believing that all she wanted was someone rich and successful, someone other than him. 

As Khloé listened to him speak, she felt a huge sense of relief. Here she was assuming that a man like Terry didn’t get bothered by anything. Especially irrelevant things like status and “gender-roles” but here he was admitting that to her. It made her feel a bit better knowing that he too had his insecurities just like she did. It made him appear more human to her after spending so much time playing the guessing game with his emotions. 

“Well I don’t care about things like that…” Khloé spoke softly. 

“You worry about your folks caring, that’s the problem.” Terry stated. 

“After today, I really shouldn’t have worried so much about their opinions.” She scoffed, looking off to the side, away from his gaze. 

Terry’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of her last statement. He wanted to know what had happened today that caused such a look of disgust to appear in her face at the mention of her parents but he had other things he was worried about. “So, why’d you come to see Summer, again?” 

“To apologize for lying to her and trying to intimidate her.” She answered truthfully. 

“After all of this time, why now?” Terry questioned, hoping she wasn’t about to give a bullshit reason as to why she decided to visit Summer after almost a month of doing what she did. 

Khloé told him about how she had been spending the last few weeks, drunk and hungover, trying to solve this problem she had caused by hitting the bottom of every bottle she owned. She expressed the final crash she had and how it had rocked so much that she felt empty. She told him how she knew in order for her to start fresh she had to right her wrongs and she wanted to more than ever now knowing what she knew about her family. 

She went on to tell him about how Olivia had torn her to shreds and how the conversation at Sunday dinner put everything into perspective for her. Khloé admitted how she was trying so hard to chase something only to realize now that she would never be able to reach it, cause it never existed to begin with. Also admitting that unknowingly following in her mothers footsteps was the last thing she needed to do, considering how her father still spent time with another woman outside of their marriage no matter how hard her mother tried to keep his true love away. With her fall out with Terry, the words from Olivia and the family secret, she too wanted out of this game she had been playing. She was exhausted. 

Terry looked at her as she wiped a few tears from her face. As tough as Khloé tried to appear, she was a very sensitive soul. Terry caught onto this very early in their “relationship” but it didn’t bother him much. He was aware of the fact that she was simply a product of her upbringing. 

“Wait, so Kandace isn’t your sister?” He asked, a look of confusion and remorse on his face. 

“She is. She’s my dads daughter, not my mothers. That’s why they hate each other so much.” Khloé sniffed, drying the last tear from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He offered genuine concern in his tone. 

“Me too.” 

An awkward silence fell over the room, this time neither one of them looked at each other. They didn’t know where to go from here. After going from spending everyday with each other to not speaking for almost an entire month, they were unsure where they stood with one another. 

“So, what now?” Terry asked. “Do we start over, pick up where we left off?” 

“Actually neither.” Khloé said, throwing Terry off guard. “I have some things I need to sort out on my own. Just need a little time to figure myself out, if you know what I mean.” 

Terry nodded. “I understand.” 

There was yet another silence and Khloé refused to sit in it again. 

“Well, I’m gonna go.” Khloé stated, searching for her belongings. She grabbed her phone and car keys and made her way to the door. “I’m glad we could talk.” She said, turning to him. 

“Me too.” He said. “You look beautiful Khloé.” 

Khloé smiled at him and nodded, giving him a soft “Thanks” before turning to walk out of the door. She left him there in the living room of Summer’s home and she was okay with it. Desperately searching for external validation, love, attention, admiration and acceptance had taken a toll on her. She needed some time to be alone, to be able to give all of those things to herself. 

Khloé always knew what she wanted; she was just too afraid to go after it. After experiencing a small taste of what being truly seen and loved by someone could feel like and just how quickly it could be snatched from her, she wanted to be sure that she was the source of it all first. So she set out on a journey all on her own… a journey to self love. 

to be continued… 

[crazyunsexycool]

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 7

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!reader

Word count: 6.3k

Warning: mention of blood/blood splatter, gun use, gunshot, knife use, non-con touching (not Steve), SA, attempted rape, bruises, beating, angst, protective Steve

A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. Here we have a situation in which reader knows that Steve is in the mob but has never been in direct contact with any type of violence or anything until she is… We also find out who the woman that broke Steve's heart is (Are we surprised who it is?) We'll find out why later on so here we go....

Series Masterlist

“One more piece of tape.” You said as you held your hand out. 

“Here you go.” 

You place the tape on the last corner and then smooth it out to make sure it stays in place. 

“Mom are you done?” Eli pops his head into the room you’re in. “They’re downstairs.”

“Yes, come on.” 

You and Eli were two balls of energy. Everything was in place and Regina was more than supportive in your excitement. For the last two days you had been working on getting a room ready for Peter. He was finally being released from the hospital and considering how things were going Steve thought it would be better if Peter stayed for a while. 

There’s voices coming from the hallway so you and Eli stand together and wait for the door to open. Steve smiles as he opens the door and steps inside. Peter is right behind him. 

“Welcome home.” You and Eli yell at the same time. Peter, still being medicated, is startled before he starts laughing. 

“Thanks guys. Did you help decorate?” He asks Eli who walked up to Peter and hugged him gently. 

“Yeah. Do you wanna watch a movie?” 

“That sounds like a great idea bud.” 

“Eli, let Peter get settled first. Why don’t you go help Dom make some snacks for the two of you?” 

“Ok ma. I’ll be right back.” Eli says before he’s running out the door. 

“It’s good to see you’re back.” You said as you gave Peter a hug of your own. 

“Glad to be back too.”

You smile as you help him get comfortable in bed. Regina helps by getting his bags from Sam and sorting out the items. 

“Who’s she?” Peter nods in her direction. 

“This is Regina, the newest member of our staff.” 

Peter gives her an awkward smile and his eyes dart to Steve. He thought he’d find the boss checking her out but his eyes were only on you. Peter knew from the first moment Steve liked you but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. Steve had warned him to keep a level head and to keep feelings out of the business. But seeing him now it would seem as if his boss was going against his own advice. 

“Nice to meet you. Let me know if you need anything.” Regina offers. “I’m going to get back to work.”  

“Thanks.” Steve says as he moves so that she can reach the door. 

You stay for a few more minutes catching up with Peter before you excuse yourself too. Bucky and Sam walk out with you.

“We’ll let you get settled but we do have to talk about what happened at some point.” Steve says. 

“Of course boss.” Peter nods. “I’m glad you brought them here. Y/N and Eli I mean. It was just the two of them and with Eli as sick as he is Y/N needs all the support she can get.” 

“And she has it now. Why didn’t you tell me about her and her son?” 

Peter looks down at his hands. 

“You’re not in trouble.” 

“She asked me not to. Simple as that. Eli is her priority and I respected that.” 

“You’re loyal, I like that about you kid.” Steve says. “You’re not keeping any other secrets from me are you?” 

“No sir. Eli is the only thing I’ve ever kept a secret.” 

“Good. Now get some rest.” 

Steve flexed his hand, assessing the damage on his knuckles from the interrogation he’d been a part of. He hissed when the cold alcohol swab touched the open skin on his other hand. 

“Don’t be a baby.” You murmur as you throw away the used alcohol pad. 

You turn away from Steve to grab some ointment and when you turn back he’s lighting a cigarette. 

“Hey.” Steve protests when you snatch the unlit cigarette from his mouth. “What the hell, I need a smoke. I'm stressed.” 

“No smoking in the house.” 

“It’s my house.” Steve argues back. 

“Elijah can’t inhale smoke so either quit or go outside to the other end of the yard where he doesn’t play.” 

“So now I can’t do whatever I want in my own house?”  Steve glares at you but you aren’t intimidated by it. 

You roll your eyes before taking his hand again and finish cleaning it up before moving around to the next one. 

“I didn’t ask you to move in. You brought me here and told me this place was safe for me and my kid. Now if you go and trigger an asthma attack it won't be good for him.” 

Steve huffs but agrees. He sits silently for a moment as he watches you.

“You know maybe I should get you a sexy nurse uniform.” 

“And who would I wear it for?”

“Your only patient.” Steve says, matter of fact. “Do you think I’d let anyone else see you dressed in something like that?” 

“I don’t know, I thought it was my choice who I let see me with or without clothes on.” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips when Steve’s jaw clenched. “What? Does it bother you that I could go out there and find someone and let him take me home?” 

Steve stands abruptly and spins you so that you’re chest to chest with him. His hands lay flat against the flat surface of the desk  behind you, his eyes darkening at just the thought of someone else putting their hands on you. Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze. 

“Do you really think I would let that happen? Let some asshole touch you.” 

“It’s not up to you, Steve. I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want. Why do you care anyway? Are you still just trying to get me in your bed? Is this why you’ve been so helpful, you think that helping me with Eli will get me to sleep with you? I won’t risk it. My job is much more important than a one night stand with you. Besides I thought we were past this you sleeping with your maids thing.” 

Steve groans in frustration, his head falling to your shoulder. You smile and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No. I’m helping you with Eli because I genuinely care.” He pulls back to look at you, his gaze much softer now. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before but I will be now. I want you. Not just for one night.” 

“Well two nights isn’t going to cut it either.” 

“You’re being a brat, you know that? I'm going to win you over.” 

You laugh and get closer to his face, his eyes immediately going to your lips. 

“Well I’m not going to make it easy for you.” You murmur and kiss the tip of his nose just as the door opens. 

Bucky walks in, his steps falter as he watches the two of you separate yourself from one another. 

“Hey Buck, right on time I was just finishing up here.” You say as if he didn’t walk in on the two of you in a compromising position. 

“Uh-ok cool.” 

You pick up the first aid kit and place it back in its spot within Steve’s office. As you head for the door you stop and turn to look at both men.

“How much longer is that mess going to be downstairs?” You asked about the nameless idiot that shot Peter.

“It will be cleaned up soon.” 

“Ok, just let me know if you need me to take Eli out for the day. I don’t want him to see any of that.” 

“Of course.” Steve smiled and you walked out.

“What was that about?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve waves his hand dismissively. 

“Ok? Anyways, Beck still won’t talk. We’ve tried everything.” 

Steve sighed as he ran a hand over his beard. “We’re going to have to call either Lloyd or Loki in. But we’ll move Beck first. I don’t want that done here.” 

“I’ll figure out where to move him to.” 

“Thanks, I’ll make the call.” Steve leans forward and grabs the phone while Bucky heads back out. 

You heard Steve’s voice before you walked into Elijah’s room. Almost as soon as you had moved in, Eli requested that Steve read with him at night before bed. You told your son you weren’t sure that was possible but in the short time you’ve been there Steve hasn’t missed a night. Although reading didn’t take long, all of the medication Eli was on made him sleepy. It didn’t stop him from fighting it and trying to stay awake for just a few more minutes. You lean against the doorframe and watch Steve tuck Eli in and turn off the lamp next to his bed. 

“Hey.” Steve says as he walks out of the bedroom. 

“He didn’t put up much of a fight did he?” 

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “I think all of the excitement of having Peter here wore him out.” 

You smile while looking back into the darkened bedroom. “I’m not surprised. He loved when Pete would come over and play video games.” 

Steve’s eyes were still on you when you looked back up at him. There was an intense feeling of need between the two of you as you stood in the quiet dimly lit hallway. One that pulled you closer to each other. He cleared his throat and you looked away.

“I have some business to attend to at one of my clubs. Will you be alright here alone?” 

“Yeah. Peter is sleeping too and I think Dom had a poker game. I’m just gonna enjoy a nice bubble bath before bed.” 

Steve groans and closes his eyes. You bite back a laugh. 

“Do you need a hand with this bubble bath?” 

You smile and shake your head before starting to walk backwards toward your own room. “I’m good, thanks. I can take care of myself just fine.” 

“Tease.” Steve mutters as he watches you walk into your room. 

****

Steve shook hands with his newest associate, Erik Killmonger. They had worked together before but this was going to be on a more permanent and lucrative basis. The two men were in the vip section with a drink in hand celebrating their new business deal. 

They looked down at the sea of people dancing and drinking as they talked about logistics and expectations. 

“Good evening gentlemen.” A sickly sweet voice called out from behind them. 

It was a voice Steve recognized and immediately tensed because of it. He turned slowly, anger already rising within him. A glare was sent in the direction of the uninvited guest but she was unphased.

“What are you doing here, Sharon?” Steve demanded to know. 

“I just came by to say hello, see how my old friend was doing.” 

“You shouldn’t be here. Not my club and not in New York.” 

She rolled her eyes and sat at one of the plush couches, motioning for a waitress to get her a drink. “I heard you were doing business and I have a proposition for you.” 

Erik looked between the two and excused himself after mentioning something about someone catching his eye. It left Steve alone with Sharon although Bucky quickly and quietly joined them. 

“So what do you say, Rogers? Want to make a deal?” Sharon asked as she batted her lashes at Steve. 

“No. You shouldn’t even be in New York but I’ll be a gentleman and give you twelve hours to leave.” Steve nods at Bucky who moves and grabs Sharon by the arm. 

“You can’t be serious? Is this because of Peggy?” 

Steve tensed at the mention of her name. It brought back bitter and hurtful memories. He kept his expression unreadable though and looked back at the blonde. 

“I’m a man of my word. I said I’d never work with The Carter Family again and I intend to keep it. I also told you that you have twelve hours to leave.”

Sharon pulls her arm away from Bucky’s hold. “It’s a shame you’re letting your emotions get in the way of a very lucrative deal.” 

“Sharon-” Steve raised his hand to stop her from talking when she opened her mouth.

“Steve.”

“What Buck?” He looked over a Bucky, annoyed that he was being interrupted. 

“We have to go. Check your phone.” 

Steve pulls out his phone to find a few missed calls and texts from your phone. 

Y/N: Steve mom needs help. 

Y/N: Come home now!

Y/N: Please!!

Y/N: Answer your  phone.

Steve immediately called you back but you didn’t answer. The urgency came from the first message that was obviously from Eli. He wasn’t sure how he missed yours and Peter’s calls but he left Sharon forgotten in his VIP section and headed back home with Sam and Bucky.

Eli and Peter were sleeping. Dom had gone to a weekly poker game with his friends. The house was quiet and you have wanted to take advantage of the bathtub in your room for a while. So that’s what you did. You lit some candles and added epsom salts and oils into the water. It was perfect. With some music playing softly in the background the only thing missing was a glass of wine. You grabbed your robe and headed downstairs with the intention of pouring yourself some. 

It was while passing Elijah’s room that something felt off. While you left the door ajar it was opened a little too wide. Then there was a smell of cigarette smoke that bothered you. Especially after asking Steve not to smoke around him. You knew that request bothered him but he wouldn’t go do anything to harm Eli either. So you crept up to the door and peered inside just to make sure Eli was still asleep. You could see him on the bed sleeping soundly but the cigarette smoke clung in the air heavily. Since the room was dark other than the sliver of light that illuminated the bed you struggled to make anything else out. 

You hear it before you see it. The deep inhale in the corner of the room. Then the lit cigarette. The person smoking takes a step out of his hiding place and you can barely make out his short slicked back hair and large frame. Your breathing stops as you stare at this stranger in your son’s room. 

“Well what do we have here?” It’s almost a whisper but it sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine. 

“Get out of this room right now.” 

The stranger walked closer to you. He was tall and obviously strong. You were sure he would overpower you but he was a threat to your son. You’d do anything to protect him. With every step he took you took one back in the hopes of leading him out into the hallway. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing? Rogers must be treating you well if you walk around like that.” He motioned toward your robe which had loosened and revealed your bra. He licked his lips as he eyed you. “The kid might be a bit of a mood killer though.” 

You wrapped the robe around yourself tightly and headed towards the stairs. He stalked towards you with a predatory gaze in his eyes. Before you could get to the top of the stairs he grabs the back of your neck, pressing his body against your. One hand wraps around your throat and the other starts roaming your body.

“That’s no way to treat a guest, Honey.” He whispered in your ear before sniffing your hair. 

“Let me go.” 

“Show me a good time and maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll keep you.”  

He started dragging back into the hallway and opened the first door he found. 

“No. Please don’t.” You tried to push against him in hopes of avoiding being thrown into the bed. But he was taller and obviously stronger than you. 

“You should cooperate sweetheart. Maybe I’ll go easy on ya.” 

You're thrown onto the bed. The robe you were wearing is now open, exposing your bra and revealing the shorts you were wearing. You cry and beg as your attacker moves to crawl over you, his lips find their way to your neck as he holds your hands above your head with one hand. His grip is hard and painful. The other he uses to keep your face still as he kisses you. He pulls back and smirks down at you. 

“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He laughs as he moves around in order to undress you. In a moment of desperation you kick your feet up and manage to kick him in his groin. “You fucking cunt.” In his moment of weakness you kick higher this time and your foot connects with his face. He grabs his nose and starts cursing at you but you’re moving away from him.

You ran faster this time in hopes of getting down the stairs. As long as he was away from Eli you didn’t care what happened to you. 

“Dumb whore. I was going to be good to you but now you’re fucked. When I’m done with you, you’ll never see the kid again.” He yelled as he followed you down the stairs. “Stop running or I’ll go back up there and shoot the kid.”

Turning to look over your shoulder slowly you saw the gun aimed at you. 

“I really only came here for one thing. You see your little fuck buddy, Rogers, he has an associate of mine.” He says while taking a few steps down towards you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Elijah creep out of his room. He stood there unmoving as he watched a stranger pull a gun out on his mom. You prayed he would go hide again and were relieved when he moved away from the railing. 

On the landing that led to the second floor you stood looking up at the intruder. He takes slow deliberate steps just to show you that he was in control. Your tear stained cheeks do nothing to deter his attack.

“If you tell me where he is,” he pulls his phone out and shows you a picture. “I won’t have the kid watch what I do to you. I won’t sell him off to the highest bidder either.” 

A door opens up at the end of the hall. He stops on the last step so that he’s hidden from whoever is there.

“Y/N?” Peter’s sleepy voice breaks the tense silence. “Y/N, I need some help.” 

The stranger takes a peek around the corner and sees Peter making his way down slowly. You take his distraction and charge at him full force hoping to at least knock him down and get the gun away from him. Barreling into him, shoulder first, he falls back. It wasn’t so much your strength but catching him off guard that helped you. He groaned as he grabbed his head, a small amount of blood started to trickle from the apparent gash at the back. While it looked like it hurt it didn’t completely knock your aggressor out. 

“Peter, get back in your room. Call Steve or anyone tell them to get back now.” You yelled before running down the stairs with the gun in your hand. 

Not even hitting his head against a few steps slows down your attacker. It forces you to head into the kitchen instead of outside. You turn on your heel and hold the gun up, pointing it at him.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.” You say.

“Really? I don’t think you’ve ever used a gun before.” 

“First time for everything.” You reply. “On your knees.” The gun is still pointed at him but it shakes almost violently in your hands. 

He smirks and takes another step closer. The gun goes off but it hits the floor. It makes your hands shake even more.

“Don’t. Move.” You say through gritted teeth. 

There’s movement behind him and then Peter is telling you to move. The intruder turns around to face Peter knowing you won’t be able to shoot. He still gets shot once in the shoulder and in each kneecap forcing him to the ground. When you stand from behind the kitchen island you see Peter standing with a gun in his hand, suppressor attached. 

“Are you ok?” He asks while keeping his gun aimed down at the intruder. 

“I think so.” You say with a shaky voice while looking him over. “You’re bleeding.” 

“I think I ripped my stitches.” 

“I’ll get you cleaned up. Let me just-“ you look around unsure of what you can use to restrain him.  “I’ll be right back.” You run down the steps to the basement on wobbly legs. 

“We can use this.” 

You say as you get to the top stair with some rope. Peter nods but grimaces at any slight movement. 

“What do I do?” You look up at Peter.

“Y/N, Peter?” 

“In the kitchen.” You yell out. 

Coulson’s quick steps echo throughout the otherwise quiet home. He stares at the scene in front of him bewildered for just a moment. 

“Give me the rope.” He says and moves into action. 

You help Peter get to the couch. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit ok? I’ll be right back.”

“Hey,” he catches your hand. “Go check on Eli first, this can wait a few minutes.” 

He saw the relief in your eyes and the way your tense shoulders slumped. 

You run up the stairs and head directly to his room where you find the door locked.

“Elijah, baby it’s me.” You knock. “Baby please open the door. It’s ok.” 

The door opens and Eli’s crying face comes into view.

“Mom.” He rushes to you, burying his face in your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“It’s ok, it’s safe now. Are you ok?”

You feel him nodding against you. The only thing you can do is hug him back and assure him that he’s ok. After a few minutes you pull away, kneeling to get a better look at him and make sure there are no marks on him. 

“Why was that man here? Why did he want to hurt you?”

“I don’t know, baby.” You brush away his tears. “Let’s go sit.” 

Eli takes your hand and walks back into his room. You aren’t sure if it’s him shaking or you but it’s almost uncontrollable. 

“I tried to call and text Steve but he didn’t answer.” He holds out your phone.

“You did a good job, come here.” 

You take your phone and call Steve immediately but there’s no answer. Then you call Sam and Bucky and still nothing. You send them all a few texts and you start to worry that they have been hurt. Dom answers right away and he tells you that he’ll be back in a few minutes. After that you sit against the headboard and bring Elijah to sit on your lap and you hold him tight like when he was a baby. The only thing you could do now was wait. 

Steve flew through traffic in order to make it back as fast as he could. His mind raced as he tried and failed to get an answer from you. He came up with the worst case scenarios of what could be happening. All Steve hoped was that you and Eli were ok no matter what the issue was. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to either of you. 

 Sam and Bucky weren’t far behind when Steve finally pulled into the driveway of his mansion. Immediately he knew something was way off. The normal guards that were posted around the perimeter were missing. He grabbed his gun as he stepped out of his car. When he looked backed, Sam and Bucky also had their guns out. 

Steve rushed to the door, opening it without warning. His gun was up as he walked in with Sam and Bucky behind him. They walk into the living room only to find Peter sitting back on the couch, his hand putting pressure on the area where he had been stitched up previously. Dom was fussing over him trying to help stop the bleeding.

“Peter? What happened?” Steve asked, getting the attention of the semiconscious young man. 

“There’s this guy. He broke in.” 

“I have him down in the room.” Coulson stepped out of the kitchen. “I got an alert from the security alarm. I got here just as Peter shot him. It seems he had his eyes set on Y/N.”

“Where is she?” 

“Upstairs.” Peter answers. “With Eli.” 

Steve looks back and Bucky lifts his chin up towards the stairs. 

“We’ll go see who this idiot is.” 

“Get Peter medical help and find out what happened to the guards.”

“Clint and Nat are on their way.” Coulson says. “I’ll have them take Peter in.”

Steve nods and heads upstairs. He takes two at a time until he reaches the third floor. His heart is beating out of his chest as he walks up to Eli’s room, worried about the state he would find you in. He knocks but doesn’t get an answer so he opens the door and takes a peek inside. The cigarette smoke still lingers but he doesn’t find either you or Eli. Steve walks out and heads to your room, knocking a bit more harshly than he intended too. 

“Y/N? Can you open up?” Steve calls out. After a minute the door opens and your tear stained face peeks out. 

“Steve.” You whimper when you finally see him.

“C’mere, baby.” Steve pulls you into his chest. He feels your whole body trembling and his arms tighten around you. “Are you ok? Is Elijah?” 

You nod against his chest and begin to sob now that Steve was there. 

“It’s over. You’re safe.” Steve murmured.

He kept as calm as he could but he felt nothing but rage. Not only did someone think they could just walk into his home without any repercussions, they also terrorized you. There would be hell to pay once he was downstairs to get the necessary information. 

“Do either of you need to see a doctor?”

“No. We’re ok, just shaken up a bit.” You reply as you finally look up at him again. 

“Alright. What about you? Are you sure you’re not hurt? Did he do anything to you?” 

You avert your eyes and Steve’s stomach drops. 

“What did he do? Did he touch you?” Steve’s voice hardened. There was this underlying and unsettling sharpness to it.

You nodded. Steve took a deep breath while he slowly pulled away and turned his back towards you. He ran a hand over his beard as he thought about all the ways he was going to rip the asshole that dared touch you apart. 

Steve turned back to look at you. “Did he force hi-“

“Tried to. I got away from him before he could.” 

“Ok.” Steve takes a deep breath. “C’mon let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.” 

Once Steve realizes that you’re asleep he leaves the room quietly. He walks down to the first floor to find out what the hell is going on in his own home. There will be hell to pay for this, not just for the disrespect of breaking into his house but for what you went through.

“Update, now.” He demands.

“The idiot that broke in is none other than Jack Rollins. Apparently he was looking for Beck when he stumbled upon Eli’s room.” Bucky says. “He’s a sick twisted bastard from what Peter told me he heard.” 

“Did he say anything else?” 

Bucky shakes his head. Steve starts rolling up his sleeves. He heads for the basement door with Bucky on his heels. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“What do you think?” He growls but continues toward the basement door. 

“Steve, think about this.” Bucky says. “We could get information out of him if we do this right.”

Steve stops and turns to look at Bucky and the rest of his team. 

“He put his hands on Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about information.” 

Bucky’s eyes harden at the new information.

“I’ll come with you.” 

The two men walk down to the basement and into the soundproof room. Sam was standing over Rollins, who already had a few cuts and scrapes along with the gunshot wounds. Steve doesn’t waste any time at all as he connects his fist with Rollin’s jaw. The man, who had been tied to a chair, falls backwards. 

“I’m guessing that pretty little thing you have upstairs told you about our time together.” Rollins chuckles. “She was real sweet.0

Steve lands a few more hits before he stretches his hand out behind him. Bucky already knows what Steve wants and hands him a knife. Steve inspects it carefully before looking down at the man below him. 

“Oohh should I be-Aahh.” Rollins screams when Steve plunges the knife into the bullet wound on his shoulder. Blood splatters into Steve’s face but it doesn’t deter him.

****

When Steve finally stopped his assault he was covered in blood. Steve’s anger hadn’t subsided even as he walked back into the kitchen. The others were gathered around the island talking about what happened when he joined them. 

“Has anyone checked in on Y/N?” He asked. 

“Still sleeping boss.” 

He nods and starts walking out. “I’ll be back in about 10 minutes. I want to know everything when I come back.” 

Steve goes up to his room to shower and change quickly. Then he heads back down to the kitchen. Dom has a cup of coffee ready for him. The sun was just starting to light up the sky. Steve grabs his cup and takes a sip. 

“What do we have?” He asks as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. 

“Rollins killed some of the guards around the perimeter, enough to slip by undetected. He hacked the security system. He couldn’t completely deactivate it but he delayed the notification Coulson would get.” Clint said. 

“He was looking for Beck. But he won’t say anything else.” 

“What should we do now?” Bucky asks. 

“First I want him out of the house. Get him some medical attention, I’m not done with him just yet.” Steve orders. “Let’s double up the guards. Let’s have Jensen double check the security system and upgrade whatever needs to be upgraded.”

“How is Peter doing?” 

Steve and the rest of the group turn to see you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Even though you slept most of the night you look exhausted. Eyes are red and slightly swollen as if you’d just been crying. 

“Peter’s fine. He just ripped some stitches, he’s in his room sleeping.” Nat tells you. 

You nod as Dom walks over to you. 

“Want some coffee, Mia Cara?” 

You shake your head. Dom opens his arms for you and you step into his embrace. The older man pats your back in a comforting manner. 

“You’re safe now, Mia Cara. We won’t let anything like this happen again. You hear me?” He reassures you. 

You just nod against his chest. Everyone silently shuffles out of the kitchen. Dom places a chaste kiss on your forehead and leaves, giving you and Steve some privacy. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks as he gets up and moves towards you.

You shrug. Other than being worried about Eli you were numb to the whole situation. 

“Baby, look at me.” Steve says softly.  He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls up so that you have to look at him. 

You’re fighting back tears for what felt like the millionth time. 

“Tell me what you need?”

“I don’t know.” 

“How about some time away from here? We can get away for a weekend and take Eli somewhere fun. What do you say?” Steve offers.

 It angered him all over again to see you like this. A shell of who you really are. Your arms wrapped around yourself. Steve didn’t like seeing you down like this although it was completely understandable. 

You shrug again in response and he sighs. 

“Why don’t you go rest for a little bit longer and I’ll have Dom make you something and bring it up.” 

“I can’t.” You mumble as you look around the room. 

“Why?” 

“I have to work.”

“You’re joking right? You aren’t going to be working today. Regina will be in any minute now, she’ll do what she can. You worry about taking care of yourself and Eli.” Steve says as he leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

In the distance you hear the door that is normally used by the house staff to come in and out.

“See, that's probably Regina right now. I’ll talk to her.” 

You gasp when Regina appears in the doorway. She’s sporting a black eye, busted lip, bruises around her throat and she’s holding her side as if it hurt. You rush over to her to make sure she’s ok. 

“What happened?” 

“The-these men they-they broke into my house early this morning.” She sobbed before hiding her face in your shoulder. 

“Fuck. Bucky, Sam.” Steve yells for them. The two men rush out of the hallway that leads to Steve’s office. 

“What happened?” Bucky asks once he sees Regina crying. 

You tell them what she had just said since she couldn’t control her crying. Both men look back at Steve, the same anger in their eyes. Dom and Coulson soon join the others.

“Do you know who did this?” You ask her as you guide her to the couch. 

“No. I’ve never seen them before. I was sleeping when they broke in.” Regina sniffles.

“Did they say what they wanted?”

Regina nods. “They told me that I had to get whatever information that I could on you and report back to them.” 

“I have a few questions.”

“Ask away.” 

“How did they know you work for me?” Steve asks and you look between him and Regina.

“I don’t know, maybe they had been following me?” 

“Why tell me?”

Regina swallows thickly as tears well up in her eyes again. “Well everyone here has been so nice to me, and this is the first job I don’t have to get almost naked to get money for,” She sighs, wincing due to her injured ribs. “I didn’t want to ruin what I had here. But my grandma, she’s in a nursing home and they had pictures of her. They said that they’d hurt me and make her watch.”

“They said the same about me and Eli.” 

“Wait what?” Regina looks at you confused. 

“Someone broke in last night.”   

“What is happening?” Regina asked. She was scared and so were you. The only difference was that you knew Steve would make things right. 

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out. In the meantime you can’t go back to your place.” Steve tells her. “We’ll have someone pick up some clothes for you and have a doctor look you over. Do you think you could recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Maybe. Oh wait,” Regina grabs her phone. “Would a video help?”

“You have a video of them?” 

She looks at Bucky and nods. “I installed a doorbell camera and a camera in the living room. Here, you can definitely see their faces.” 

“You have a camera in your living room?” Sam asks suspiciously.

“I live alone and I’m single. There have been some break ins around the neighborhood. I was trying to protect myself.” She says as she hands the phone over to Bucky.

Sam and Steve huddle around Bucky to look at the video Regina had. They see her being dragged out of her room and beaten. Unfortunately they didn’t recognize the men in the video but they would find them nonetheless. 

“Thank you for this. I don’t know who they are but we’re going to find them.” Steve tells her. “Y/N can I talk to you for a minute?” 

You get up and follow Steve into his office where he closes the door behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask Steve after watching him pace back and forth for a few minutes. “Is it about whoever broke into Regina’s place?”

Steve leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I’ll most likely have to be out more. At least while I track these sons of bitches down.”

“Ok, and?” 

“Will you be ok here? After last night… I’m doing everything to make sure this place is more secure.”

“Ok.” 

“I’m also going to assign Nat to be with you whenever you go out. I know you’re independent but I need you to do as she says if something were to happen.” 

“Do you think someone would try to hurt me again?” 

“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean look at what they did to Regina and she hasn’t even been here that long. I’m not going to risk you and Eli being in danger again.” Steve pushes himself off the desk and walks over to you. “It should’ve never happened in the first place. I’m going to handle this.”

“I’m more worried about Elijah than myself.”

“Of course you are because you’re a good mom.” Steve cups your face when he sees your eyes start getting glassy. “You just take care of him like you always do and I’ll keep you both safe.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” 

Ch. 8

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[robinsno1lesbian]

i've been boxing at the gym lately and i've just been thinking about boxer!robin as a trainer............... and her wrapping my hands and putting my gloves on homoerotically ...... - 🌼

boxer!robin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1466

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), a bit of fluff maybe??, sexual tension, light smut, oral, reader is head over heels for boxer!robin, oh also i don't know shit about boxing so if things don't add up please pretend they do!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hi anon! i'm so sorry that it took me this long to get to your request, life has been pretty busy lately and people are flooding my inbox with their thoughts (not complaining one bit!!) either way i'm so sorry and i hope this makes up :)

this is really short but i'm trying to work through my inbox right now so i hope you don't mind!

you truly don't mean to gape at her like that.

god knows you've tried to turn your gaze away from her wandering hands. tried to focus on anything other than her fingers.

how fast they can work while she is securing the tape, using her teeth to hold it in place.

what a sight.

she is sitting across the room from you and her eyes are too busy with her own hands to notice your shameless staring.

she's got her legs the slightest bit spread, giving you just enough of a chance to see her athletically built thighs.

robin has her hair pinned up to keep it out of her face during training. she is wearing a pair of black shorts and a matching sports bra.

she has been doing this for a bit longer than you.

at first, you weren't exactly sure about it.

boxing really didn't seem like your thing. but after the events of 1986, robin had convinced herself (and you, after some time) that it was for the best if you worked on your own physical strength.

and this had been her solution.

and while you might have had your doubts at first, this turned about to be one of the best ideas robin has ever had.

not because you enjoy boxing that much. it's fun, sure, and a great way to keep yourself fit. but it's obvious that robin enjoys it more than you do.

what delights you about the sport is watching your girlfriend.

you hate to admit it but it's hot. it's so hot.

you love watching her during training, slightly bouncing on her feet in front of her opponent, arms swinging forward in hard punches with her newly gained strength.

or after training, when she's panting and a thin layer of sweat is covering her muscle.

when she undresses right in front of you, pulling her top over her head, her back on full display for you and steps under the hot steam of the shower with an inviting smile over her shoulder.

it is hot, there is no point in denying it.

but robin hasn't just gained strength, she has also gained muscle too.

not enough for anyone to notice on a daily basis really, it's always hidden beneath her rather baggy clothes.

you know though.

from all the times you have undressed her ever since. from the way her muscles harden beneath your touch, how her abs flex -caused by your lips against them.

from the way she picks you up with such ease and holds you up against whatever surface she can find and for however long it takes until you're shaking in pleasure.

her hands snap you back to reality. they are all wrapped up now, protected for the training that's to come.

"your turn" she rasps and reaches out.

"oh- y-yeah" you stammer and press your legs together as you give her your hands.

the memories of the previous nights are still running circles on your mind and the fact that she looks so damn good while she is working on your hand wrapping isn't helping.

"are you okay?" robin asks, brows furrowed in concentration while she is working.

"i- uhm- sure" her question has caught you off guard again.

and robin knows, judging by the way she is biting her tongue to press her sheepish grin.

your eyes move down, away from her face and to where your palm is laying in hers.

she's got one hand holding yours in place, thumb securing the hand wrapping, while the other is winding it around your hand.

she does it with such care, it gives your heart a flutter.

always gentle when she turns around your hand by the wrist to give herself better access, her fingers occasionally stroking over your knuckles in the process.

robin is always this careful with you of course, unless you ask her not to be.

but it's even sweeter like this; in the process of getting your hands ready for your shared hobby.

she does a great job in making sure your hands are well protected and she runs her fingertips over your wrists occasionally, soothing you.

the sensation sends shivers down your body. you shouldn't like this the way you currently do.

the shaky exhale falls from your lips on its own accord when she finishes up the first hand and presses her lips to each one of your fingertips.

you look up only to find her staring at you already. her index is ghosting over your wrists, tracing along the visible veins beneath your skin when she drops your hand and picks up the other to repeat the same process all over.

she is still gentle but her hands move with more purpose now, touch firm and not just brief brushes of skin against skin.

robin is biting her lip and her eyes are full of love and adoration and yet there's also something else in there. some hunger.

the kind you know all too well.

you swallow and she smiles, looks around to make sure you're all alone in the changing rooms and leans down to kiss your lips softly.

you sigh against her mouth and you can feel a smile creep up her cheeks.

she means to kiss you softly but you can't help yourself but wrap your arms around her and part your lips to invite her to lick into your mouth.

robin chuckles and her fingers run over the soft skin of your cheeks.

"come on" she whispers against your mouth.

"but-" you're about to protest, but robin cuts you off.

"later, sweet girl"

she turns around and grabs your set of gloves from the bag. you roll your eyes playfully but nod.

"good" she holds the glove for you to slip your hand inside.

there is nothing special about this, nothing scandalous or sexual. and yet you nearly choke on your own spit when she steps closer to put it on.

robin holds your gaze when she finishes tying them together, her fingers doing all the work well coordinated.

god, this is not gonna end well for you...

⋆

as soon as the door has shut on your way in, robin strips out of her sweat-soaked clothes and makes her way to the bathroom down the hall.

just like she has done countless times already. and yet it always works.

you drop the bag to the ground and your jaw practically drops as you stare at her backside: strong shoulders pushing up clothing pieces as she walks.

your mouth is watering at the sight of it.

"will you join me already?" she calls over her shoulder.

that's how you end up pressed against the tiles of the shower, with robin between your legs.

her hair is freshly washed and still wet, one palm flat against your belly while the other is between your legs.

she's got one thrown over her shoulder to allow her mouth the best possible access to your dripping center.

your head has fallen back long ago and you have lost the strength to keep your eyes open.

so you simply let it all happen, allowing robin to have you however she pleases.

"god robin" you whimper when she pushes a second finger into you, perfectly synchronized with the strokes of her tongue. "just like that"

the woman below you pushes her hair out of her face and stares up at you in amazement.

she loves that she can get you like this, that she holds the power to have your body shaking in pleasure.

"fuck- i'm gonna- i'm- god-"

"again?" robin chuckles, tongue still lapping at your cunt. "are you gonna cum for me again?"

she says it as if she's mocking you for it, but you know better than that. you know she wants this, wants her pretty face covered in your release.

pants of oh god, robin, and fuck fall from your lips as your orgasm washes over you and you arch your back against her face to have her just a little closer.

with robin's sweet praise in your ear, the vibrations of it going straight to your center, you cum over her.

[aedificloudio]

JUST REALISED IM LIKE 66% OF THE MAFUAKI TAG????? AND NO ONES POSTED CRAZY INSANE BRAINROT HERE??? IM ALONE??? WHAT THE FUCK MAN

ok whatever i’ll i i here’s more insanity under the cut

this is genuinely just brainrot, headcanons, and random character analysis abt mafuaki and their dynamic

mafuyu is aromantic in my brain 🫶 so her dating him is genuinely just her fucking around bc shes bored and wants to feel something

also mafuyu is good at everything too so its double hitting the complex

hes never gonna be good enough

LIKE mafuyu's whole thing is being the perfect daughter who is good at everything despite not giving a shit about any of it, so she finds it really funny that akito has self esteem issues and is constantly comparing his abilities to other people

shes probably like

wow. this is smth i really dont experience

and ig she also compares it to ena's behaviour and shes defs like "oh yeah they sure as fuck are related'

coz the shinonomes are teeming with jealousy and inferiority because they can never live up to the standard they want

ena has complicated feelings about art because all her life she's being told she'll never make it

and akito knows hes nowhere near as good as the rest of vbs and he tries to hide it behind a tough guy persona

its so gap moe...

MAFUYU drags him to her room one day and keeps him in a fucking garbage bag/bodybag duct taped and cuffed and hes like freaking out bc even tho he did consent to this (he wanted to see her room) the fact she WENT THROUGH w this at all w/o a hint of remorse is downright terrifying

also when he looks around her room and how barren it is hes like 😟

"ohhh im so fucked why am i here"

he also accidentally finds out mafuyu composes music and its better than anything hes ever written to the point he fucking cries LOL

i would assume like

their rls is super casual coz theyre both busy

but they make time to see each other because a) akito gets to flex he has a girlfriend b) mafuyu finds him decently entertaining to which she's surprised about c) its a win-win

AND IDK its just super entertaining to me

thinking abt a shitty crack beach episode 25ji and vbs crossover.....

mafuyu in a swimsuit 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

mizuki in a sun dress or some shit and refusing to go in the water

kanade fucking dies.png

ena is there for her socmed

kohane and an in couple drip and they fucking slay

toya is barely allowed to go and hes in some expensive swimsuit and kinda pathetic. like. hes all "wow this is my first time!"

akito thinks ena is so embarassing rn but Holy Shit Mafuyu Has D Cups

hes so repressed abt being gay he tricks himself into liking boobs. or maybe hes bi idk

teenage boy crisis of "NO i cant like men i love boobs ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️"

(guy who dreams about making out with toya)

also i just think its funny that toya is completely oblivious in this au until either halfway or the end bc hes fr just

"yayy i have friends!!"

😭😭😭

akito is scared shitless of mafuyu tho bc  he's begun to notice her smiles don't reach her eyes

and any friend of ena's has hella issues

i don't think mafuyu ever really opens up to him about her mental issues but akito isnt completely dumb, he can kinda sense that theres smth wrong w her, especially like. the fact she has an empty aquarium in her room is fucking FREAKY

also the way he has to be snuck in there is just 💀 ermm rip girlie

mafuyu's parents knock on her door and she throws him out the window

i’m so normal abt them

[whynot-tryit]

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie’s van has always been his ride or die, and on this one Friday, his wingman. 

Warnings: none just cuteness. 

I am a hardcore believer that Eddie is secretly a hopeless romantic and no one can convince me otherwise.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;

Eddie Munson had a crush and a huge one at that. He couldn’t help but look for you in the crowd of the cafeteria and the school hallways. He had one class with you last year and it’s safe to say he didn’t pass but he memorized the curve of your ankles when you crossed them under the desk and how you flipped a pencil through your fingers on one hand when you tried to keep busy while doing your work. 

He’s only known you for a few months, having met you when you tagged along with one of your friends to buy some weed off of him and he thought that would be the first and last time he’d ever talk to you but you kept coming back, sometimes to buy and sometimes just to sit, smoke, and talk. Every time one of your friends poked at you for associating with the man you just rolled your eyes, said something snarky and Eddie would come out with a new reason to fall in love with you. He had been building up the courage to finally ask you out but he just couldn’t get the chance to be alone with you. 

He was secretly a hopeless romantic. He remembered picking flowers out of his neighbors yard one time to give them to his middle school crush and getting his head screamed off by them right after. 

After contemplating how he’d ask you out he came to a conclusion. He stayed up one night and put together a mixtape, just some songs he thought you’d like, some he’s heard you blasting out of your car radio while pulling into the school parking lot. 

Eddie has been holding off on giving it to you for a while, it’s just been sitting on the floor of his van in a small box along with the rest of his tapes. He sends a look to the box under the passenger seat of the van. It’s a Friday and school has let out about fifteen minutes ago. 

“How about we stop and get some beers for tonight, baby?” Eddie says while he raises his hand and give a couple taps to the dashboard. Was Eddie the type to talk to his car? Yes, yes he was. Would anyone ever know? Nope, never.

Eddie turns the steering wheel making a right towards the gas station. A whirring noise starts over powering the sound of Sweet Child O’ Mine playing on the radio. “What the fuck.” Eddie looks down at his speedometer and his eyes glance at the odometer, “oh come on baby, right now?”. The Odometer is fluctuating and that is not suppose to be a good thing. Eddie turns left on the first street he sees, heading home hoping to make it home in time for the van to break down in a more convenient place. As soon as he makes its halfway down the street, the noise stops. When his eyes lift up from the odometer he sees you. You’re walking on the side of the road, headed the same direction as him. 

Fuck, why is she walking home. She usually always catches a ride with someone. Eddie doesn’t have any time to chicken out and makes his way to stop a few feet ahead of you on the other side of the road and rolls down the window. 

“Hey, do you want a ride?” You lift your head up from looking down at your feet and stop walking and look at Eddie whose head it hanging out of the window of his van.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” You have walked this street before trying to get home after school and have never seen him drive by before.

“I was making my way home.” He flexes and un-flexes his right hand on the stirring wheel, left hand now against the side of the van out of the window. “Don’t you live pretty far? It’s gonna get dark soon.” You sigh and know its true but you think you might make it home in time before the sun goes down. “I think I’ll be okay, I should be able to make it in time.” You say now fully facing him from across the street. Before you can continue by thanking him for the offer you hear the radio and what sounds like the news channel anchorman speak up, “watch out folks looks like we’ll be getting a rainstorm in a few minutes, should be short. Looks like its one of those April showers.” 

Eddie swings his head towards the radio and stares at it, when did he change the station, he never listens to the weather channel. He turns back around to you and raises an eyebrow. You stay still, not knowing what to make of a surprise rainstorm. Fuck, you know you didn’t want to walk in the rain. 

“I mean if you want to walk the rest of the way while its pouring, be my guest. It was nice seeing you sweetheart!” Eddie takes his foot off the break pedal and makes it about five feet down the road before you shout.

“Wait!” Eddie stops the van again, craning his head out the window again to look back at you and sends you a smile. You start to walk to his van making your way around the back to come up to the passenger side door. You open it and slide in. You turn you head to look at Eddie and see he’s already looking at you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He takes his foot off the break again and makes his way down the road. “You can pick a station to listen to if you want.” Eddie say, trying to make you comfortable during the drive. “Do you have any tapes?” You ask, not really being a radio station kind of person. “Yeah they’re right under your seat.” You reach down under the seat and feel a box and grab it, pulling it into your laps. “Damn, this is quite a collection.” You skim your hand along the spins of the tapes. “Oh my god, is that a Madonna tape I see?” 

Eddie whips his head towards you, a blush already spreading across his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s weird because I’m actually holding it in my hand right now.” You can’t contain the laughter that raises up in your throat. You look at Eddie, waiting for some explanation, not being able to to tone tone down the smile on your face. The Eddie Munson listens to Madonna. “Like a prayer is a decent song, alright. Don’t judge me.” He reaches over and takes the tape out of your hand and puts in the under compartment on your side of the van. 

As soon as the tape was gone and the compartment was closed you hear the pitter patter of the rain starting to hit the roof of the van. “Guess the weather man was right. Thanks again, I don’t know what I would do if I got caught in this.” You say looking over at him again. 

Before Eddie can reply, the whirring noise from earlier starts back up again. “Oh come, you have got to be kidding me.” Eddie gives a few hard slaps to the top of the dashboard above the steering wheel. The van starts slowing down before coming to a spluttering stop. “Oh fuck me.” Eddie puts his face in his hands before looking up at you with what was an almost painful look on his face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know whats wrong with her.” He gestured to the center of the dashboard. “Maybe she just needs a few minutes.” You sigh, you were really looking forward to getting home as soon as possible and lounging in your pajamas. “It’s alright, we can stay in here to stay out of the rain. Turn the engine off and give her some time to rest, we’ll try her again after a bit.” You say. You sigh again and slide back into the cushions of the van’s seats while Eddie takes the key out of the ignition and puts in the center console. 

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, the sound of the rain outside being the only thing you can hear. 

“Soooooo, like a prayer, huh?” You say, looking at Eddie through the corner of your eye. Eddie snorts, “please don’t tell anyone, I would never be able to live that down.” 

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. It’ll be my way of making it up to you for you offering me a ride.” 

You gasp, coming up with an idea and Eddie looks at you while you start rummaging through your bag. You take out your walk man and unplug your headphones from it and put them back in your bag. “We could listen to some music while we wait.” You say gesturing to the walkman in your hand. A smile spreads across Eddie’s face and you can’t hold back the one that appears on yours too. “I like the way you think.”

You pick up the box of tapes you had put back on the floor when the van broke down and start skimming the tapes. Eddie scoots a bit closer to scan his collection. Theres one tape that catches your eye and pick it out of the bunch, “this one isn’t labeled, what is it?” Eddie looks at the tape in your hand and freezes, its the mixtape he made you. You turn it over your hand and see the slip of tape on the flat side of it. 

For Y/n.

You read the label, confused. Looking up at Eddie you see his face, he looks absolutely embarrassed. 

“Ummm... I actually made that, um for you- for your birthday.” Eddie tries to make up an excuse, scratching the back of his neck. You smile, a warm feeling building up in your chest. “My birthday isn’t until next week, Eddie”

“I know, I know. I just- ummm, like to get ahead on gifts, you know.” 

“Awwww Eddie, you didn’t have to get me anything. Let alone actually make me something.” You flip it over in you hands again, looking it over. “Is this a mixtape or like something you actually made?” 

“Oh no, it’s not my music. It’s just a mixtape of some songs I think you’d like.”

“You think you have my music taste figured out?”

“No, no..... I just-ummm, chose some songs that came to my head when I thought of you.” 

Fuck, he’s screwed. Who makes mixtape’s for their friends? No one, they make them for people they’re madly in love with. You look at the tape in your hand with new found fondness and move your head to look at Eddie. 

“This might just be the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me.” You grasp it in both hands and hold it to your chest. Eddie feels like his heart is about to burst, can you get any cuter?

“Let’s listen to it!” 

FUCK, if he wasn’t screwed when you first found it he definitely is now. Before he can oppose to the idea you put it into your walkman, shut it and press play.The music fills up the space of the van and Eddie holds his breath.

You hear the beat and the first few words of the song and throw your head back laughing so hard you feel tears start to sting in the corners of your eyes. 

Been working so hard, I’m punching my card, eight hours, for what

Footloose by Kenny Loggins was not a song you would ever picture Eddie listening too and you think back to when you told him during a walk to your car after school that Footloose was your favorite movie and that you often rewatch it when you’re feeling down. Looking up at Eddie you give him the biggest smile you think you ever had. He can’t help but mirror it, he loved the way your lips would curve and how cute your teeth were. 

“I thought you’d enjoy it, since you know, it’s from your favorite movie.” Eddie says. You nod your head, smile still not faltering. “I love it. I actually listen it on my way to school like all the time.” Eddie lets out a breath, happy his song choices are going okay but he still feels a not in his stomach, knowing that if you play the whole tape in front of him you might not like his last song choices. 

“So every time you hear or see footlose you think of me?” 

“I mean I don’t hear it that often but yes, yes I do.”

The song slowly but surely comes to an end and you wait to see what else he’s picked out for you. The sound of drums fill your ears and the singing starts up after a few second of just the drums.

I use to think maybe you loved me, now baby I’m sure, and I just can’t wait till the day when you knock on my door

You furrow your brows, not really knowing this song too well and confused as to why Eddie would associate you with this song, looking up at him. “Oh it’s umm- walking on sunshine by Katrina and the waves.” Eddie says while scratching the back of his neck. “Why did you choose this one?” Eddie feels at lost for words, how was he suppose to tell you that he thought of how bright your smile was and that this song perfectly described how he saw you when you would walk towards him. “I just.... I thought it went with your personality.” 

“I have a sunshine like personality?” 

Eddie shyly nods, dipping his head a bit to try to get his hair to cover his cheeks to hide the blush on his face. You look down at your lap to the tape, you always were a little scared that people found you annoying, finding it hard to make friends since you were a kid and hearing Eddie say that pulled at your heart strings.You let out a small chuckle and looked up eyes filled with some tears but none spilling over yet. Eddie’s face morphed into surprise and concern, siting up straight and darting out a hand to lay it on your shoulder. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Is it a bad song? It is isn’t it? Fuck, I didn’t want you to cry! I can open the window and you can throw it out and smash it.” Eddie says rambling a tad bit. You let out a smile and shake your head, willing yourself to blink away the tears. “No I don’t hate it I just really appreciate you saying that about me, it means a lot.” Eddie’s heart feels like its about to burst out of his chest. 

The music slowly fades out but the two of you barely notice, keeping the gaze of your eyes going well into a couple seconds of the next song. You don’t even need to hear the words to the song, it takes just three seconds of the intro for you to throw you head back with a groan and hit the pause button on your walkman. With your head still back against the head rest of the set you turn your head to look at Eddie. 

“Are you kidding me? Elton John? You know how I feel about him.” Finishing off your sentence with a laugh. Eddie remembered you telling him how big of an Elton John fan your mother was and every time you heard his voice you’d get flashbacks from her waking you up to get ready to clean the house. He smiles and chuckles. 

“I just put it in there to add some spice, and you know to reassure you that I actually do listen to you when you talk about random stuff.” He put it on there when he thought about the time out in the woods behind school while you guys were smoking. You were going off on a tangent and had mentioned your mothers obsession with the singer and once you caught yourself talking about it you turned to him and apologized for talking about it, thinking he probably found it annoying. Eddie waved it off but he saw the look on your face and he could tell, you usually held back on stuff you talked about, scared of what other people might think. You didn’t know what to think, the flutter of your heart and the heat you feel starting to creep up your face leave you speechless. 

You had started harboring a small crush on Eddie sometime during your second hang out smoke sesh. You didn’t think he could like you, he was this whole different person, he hung out with different people, but you couldn’t help but like him. But Eddie was harboring more than just a crush on you and you had no idea. He didn’t know when you were gonna connect the dots on the songs he chose, he didn’t want to be there when you did, scared that you were going to reject him, scream, call him a creep.

You skip the song, going straight to the next one and to your surprise it’s back in black by AC/DC. You already know why Eddie chose this song. There was a day you had promised to meet Eddie behind the school but you didn’t show up and he hadn’t seen you at school all day, worried something might be wrong he made the drive to your place and knocked on the door. You opened it and Eddie rambled on about how you hadn’t shown and he was worried and how he didn’t want you to think he was weird for driving all the way to your place to check on you. You remembered how it warmed your heart to see how worried he was about you. You explained that your little brother got the flu and your mom had to go into work and didn’t want him leave him alone. Eddie let out a sigh of relief and was about to make his way back to his car when he heard the song playing from the back of your house. Back in black. He couldn’t help the look of surprise and adored the look of slight embarrassment that made its way to your face. That was the day he discovered you had somethings in common and it made him fall for you even more.

You couldn’t even put into words how happy you were to have gotten into Eddies van and have found the tape. You felt hope swirl in your chest, thinking maybe he might just like you back, there was no way he had done something this sweet for someone he considered just a friend. You look up at him for what felt like the umpteenth time. Eddie was trying to avoid eye contact with you, thinking you finally connected the dots and this was the part where you called him disgusting and jump out of his car. You took a leap of faith and softly called his name, as soon as he lifted his head you pull yourself towards him and wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. You angled your body weirdly in your seat and over the center console but you didn’t care. You wanted him to know how grateful you were for such a small gift. 

it took a couple seconds but Eddie slowly puts his arms around you, one at the small of your back and the other behind your head. He was hugging you, you hugged him first. He had to be dreaming but the smell of your hair, the feeling of it in his palm told him it was real. 

“Thank you, Eddie. You have no idea how happy I am with it. Its the best gift I could ever ask for.” After what was probably a five minute hug you slowly pulled yourself away, still keeping your hands on his, Eddie doing the same. 

The next song plays on the walkman. Its slow. 

Wise men say, only fools rush in, 

But I can’t help, falling in love with you.

You almost don’t recognize it, but soon it clicks in your head. 

Eddie hears it too and quickly moves his hands off of you and darts his eyes everywhere besides your face. He’s nervous, scared, this is so cheesy, theres no way you liked him back. This was it, you were never gonna take to him after today. 

You softly put your fingers under his chin and move his head so you could see his face. You’re smiling and those tears that were previously in your eyes were back. You lean slightly forward and brush your lips together. You stay there for a second. One hand under his chin, another holding onto his bicep and your lips pressed against one another. Eddie slides an arm around your waist and places the palm of his other hand onto the side of your face. You start to feel the lightheadedness that comes with holding your breath for too long and you pull away. You’re only a few breaths away, you can see the color of his eyes and can make out all of his eyelashes. Eddie still hasn’t opened his eyes, scared that when he does you’ll be gone and this would have all been a dream.

When he finally does blink his eyes open he sees you. You have what he thinks is the cutest smile he had ever seen on your face. You kissed him, and now you’re smiling. Relief floods through his body. “How long?” You ask, wanting to know how long he’s felt this way about you and wanting to see how long he’s been holding it from you. “About five minutes after I met you.” 

You let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ve liked you since that time you showed me your guitar back in your trailer.” Eddies eyes slightly widen, that was about two weeks after the first time you guys had met. You’ve liked him this whole time. You both smile, going in for one more kiss. This time its more desperate, faces pressed even closer together. It’s shorter but amazing none the less.

When you finally grab your walk man to pause the music you realize you don’t hear the rain anymore, looking up through the wind shield of the van and see a clear sky. 

“The rain stopped.” You mention. Eddie looks out the window and see that the sun is still out but sitting lower in the sky than before.

“We ummm, should head out. I have to get home.” You feel sad that you couldn’t stay here together just a little longer but you know your parents would start to worry soon. Eddie take the keys out and starts the car back up. She whirrs to life. He checks the odometer again, showing no signs of any issues like before. 

Eddie makes his way to your house, reaching over and grabbing your hand in his after a bit of a debate with his thoughts. You squeeze his hands, holding back a smile and looking at him through the corner of your eye. You see him smiling too. The drive is silent but it’s not awkward, its weirdly calming. 

When you guys finally make it to your house Eddie puts the car in park and turns to look at you. You don’t want to leave without erasing all doubt about what had happened. Eddie beats you to it.

“I want you to know that I was gonna use the tape to ask you out but I backed out a couple times. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

“I wish you did because I definitely would’ve said yes.”

“Well then, would you, Y/n, like to go out on a date, with me?” Eddie tries to fight off the blush but he can’t. He can’t believe this is happening. 

“Yes, I would love too.” You lean over the center console again and land a chaste peck on his cheek. “How about tomorrow? I don’t wanna wait any longer.” 

“That would be perfect, Eddie.” 

He take the hand that he’s been holding during the whole drive to your place and brings it up to his face and places a kiss to the back of your hand. You slowly slide your hand out of his and open the car door and jumping out. You walk up to your front door but don’t forget to look over your shoulder and send him another cute smile, the one he loves so much. Eddie doesn’t pull away from your house until he makes sure you get inside safe. 

The whole drive back to his trailer he can’t help the smile that stays on the face, his cheeks basically aching by the time he gets home. He parks by the stairs and turns the car off. He slumps into his seat and brings a hand up to put a hand on the dashboard. 

“You are a cheeky motherfucker, babygirl.”

[charnelhouse]

AINT no damn way price doesn’t have some type of corruption kink. Like those pornos of dilf fucking young women- that’s him fr fr. He even had the porno mustache.

He probably hate and love it at the same time tbh. Like he knows he shouldn’t be with someone under him who is so much younger than him but DAMN does she make it hard.

He has definitely made a sex tapes and stuff when he was younger and his current s/o finds them on accident one day when he’s busy and she’s just so shocked about how fucking rough he can be and so mean during sex. He’s probably so soft and sweet to her because he’s scared of hurting her and those girls he was with wasn’t people he was dating, just some flings and the tapes was for quick cash. His s/o isn’t even mad cause that was so long ago when he made them but DAMN. One of them has a girl face down on her belly. It starts with her face smooshed down into the bed with him holding her hair down with his huge hand and the other is holding a cigarette (something he smoked when he was in his early 20s) to his lips. He starts out slow and rolls his hip while letting out the smoke that he held in his mouth but the girl keeps whining and whimper. It looked like he was annoyed by the noises she was making and maybe it was just an act but whatever it was it caused him to hold the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and bring the now free hand to her hip and force her back into him so harshly that it causes his s/o watching to flinch. He’s going so slow but so rough that if he wasn’t holding the girl by her long hair the poor girl would go flying off the cheap squeaky bed.

It’s so nuts to her that she can’t even comprehend it! He’s so soft to her that even if she ask to go fast he will hush her or barely go faster. He always says he doesn’t want to hurt or break her or that he’s fine going that soft but clearly he isn’t! All these videos he’s so harsh and rough! She wants that!

The girl in the video is so loud but can’t get clear moans out cause now he’s wrapped his arm around her throat where now her throat is in the joint of his arm and every time he flex’s his arm it chokes her. Price had pulled her all the way up by the throat with his arm to the point she’s almost completely standing up.

He’s frowning so harshly and sweat is starting to form at his hair line. He doesn’t even look like the same person! She wouldnt even be able to recognize him if it wasn’t for the tattoo on his upper arm that looked fresh in the videos she watched. His thrust was so vigorously and rough into the woman what the girl wasn’t even making noises any more her mouth was just hung open and her eyes was squeezed shut.

He just kept saying things like “take all of it” “stop fucking crying and take it” things he would NEVER say to her even if she BEGGED him to. She knows he’s holding back when they have sex. It makes her feel hot and uncomfortable knowing he’s capable of doing stuff like this! There was another video where he face fucks another girl with one hand tied so tightly to the base of the girl’s scalp and the other is holding a beer to his lips. His s/o wonders how much did he make from these??? She hopes he got good money from these tales when he younger cause damn! Where have these been???! How has she not found them until now?? They were hidden in a small box in his side of their closet in a hole they found in this house he just bought them. It was a beautiful house and they haven’t finished unboxing, something he promised he’d do when he came back from this mission he was currently on.

His s/o would just keep digging in these boxes. More and more vhs tapes and cds would be discovered and they weren’t named they just had dates on them from the early 2000s. Go even deeper and there’s literal old playboy magazines, a camera, old condoms, and even older pack of cigs? It looks like he hasn’t touched this stuff in yeeeaarss. Does he even remember he still has this stuff? It would be funny if it wasn’t so hot. Does he think he’s too old to do this stuff now?? Why won’t he do it? Why hasn’t he told her about this? She’s not mad just wants to know! Does he have a thing for being watched or recorded? If he did would he rewatch it or want to do it with her? This shit is all so crazy and funny to her she wants to tell him she found this shit but she doesn’t even know if he remembers he has this shit. Price has a bad fucking habit of forgetting about shit or keeping shit that he doesn’t fucking need and she ends up throwing shit away when he isn’t looking.

Theres even a video of him with picking up a girl and literally throwing her onto a couch after the girl says something to him. This is so nuts to her. She would just be sitting on the bedroom floor with all the tapes around her while going through these magazines from the early 2000s and looking at his old stuff from them too. There’s even pictures of him in here. Some of when he was in college and partying with his friends, some he’s with his team he use to play sports with, and under that there was the pictures of him with naked women or men or him himself was naked. All this shit was under his college sweaters and trophies so maybe he really doesn’t remember. It looks like he hasn’t been in this box in a long time. Is he in any of these magazines? Did he do this during college to get by or did he like genuinely enjoy it? There’s so many! He had to some what enjoy it if he kept the original copies of these videos! Who are these girls and guys? She’s so interested in all of this. It makes her want to act like how these girls do in the videos to see if he will remember them or just think she’s copying something from a show again.

Hahaha I still think that if he took a video of anything it would be on his phone and it would be blurry aF

I actually think Price would be drawn towards older woman because he assumes they can take his darkness. If he leaves them, they’ll be fine on their own.

That’s not to say that he wouldn’t be with someone much younger but he’d avoid it because he assumes they wouldn’t be able to handle who he is and what he does and how he has this entire violent/secretive life

He has enough baggage so he’d be like fuckkk why would I put you through it

[thesmokingguns]

Stealing the Show

Word count: 1489

Pairing: Slash x Reader

Warning: Smut. Please don’t be under 18.

Request Sunmary: “Stuff  Ok I’ve never requested before so idk if I’m doing this right but can you do one where the reader is Slash’s girlfriend and she’s been teasing the living hell out of him all night (whispering and moaning dirty things into his ear and stuff like that) and when they finally get home he punishes her but she keeps the teasing going and won’t listen to him and is just being a brat?”

AN: thanks for reading!

You watched him across the room, knowing his eyes were on you. Which was exactly where they belonged.

Your deep brown eyes looked at him, as you leaned against the wall. You dragged your hands up over your bare stomach, over the mesh of the fishnet shirt you were wearing, cupping your bare breasts before swirling your pointer fingers around the black taped X’s of your nipples before sliding them down again. You knew he was the only one to see you and from the small warning of him shaking his head, telling you to stop this game you knew he was falling into your trap.

Axl looked behind his shoulder at you as you pretended to pour a drink. He shook his head looking at Slash who was still not taking his eyes off of you. He was getting frustrated with your teasing. Ever since you had arrived backstage in your tiny pleated red skirt and mesh shirt he had been giving you this look. There would be hell to pay later but that was part of the fun.

Walking over to where your boyfriend was seated on the couch you stepped between his legs, sliding onto the leather clad lap, letting him wrap an arm possessively around you. He had been waiting for an hour for you to come over to him but you had been busy distracting him from conversation.

“What is this shit you’re pulling?” the deep voice is in your ear, pushing your brown hair away from your neck. One finger trailing down the pulsing vein before laying a kiss on the spot that makes you moan. Instead of biting your lip to keep it in you let out this soft moan that has Izzy, who is sitting beside you and Slash on the couch turning to the pair of you.

“Are you letting out samples of your work as an invitation?” Izzy asked making eye contact with you and purposely ignoring the glare that Slash was giving him. You wiggled your hips, getting a groan and a curse from the man you were on. His hands digging into your hips begging you to sit still and stop the torture you were performing.

“I don’t think Slash could share. Which is a shame because I’m such a good sharer. And I love new toys,” you purred out. You were being set on your own two feet and being pulled down a hallway before you could even think about what had just happened. A hand pulling you along and finally into a small dressing room.

“You need to stop your motherfucking bullshit.” Slash warned, locking the door. A smile spread across your face now getting the verbal confirmation that you wanted. You gave him a confused look. “Don’t say a fucking word Y/N. I go on stage in 20 minutes and you’re going to spend that time on your knees dealing with the problem you created.” he was unzipping his jeans, pulling himself out. And you were getting exactly what you wanted.

Sinking to your knees you gripped his legs as he pushed himself forward, his cock hard and warm as it pushed against your cheek over your lips, leaving a clear trail of precum for you to get a taste of.

“Open that filthy mouth of yours.” the guitarist demanded. Glancing up you realized he wasn’t playing around with you. There wasn’t that softness in his eyes but this angry glare. “If I have to ask again, Y/N, it’s not going to be fucking good for you.” One of his hands  reached out, fisting your hair and yanking you forward, off balance you let out a small yelp. Slash took that opening as a chance to push his cock into your mouth, gagging you.

Your eyes watered as you tried to get a grip on his legs to steady yourself again as he pushed himself needily in your mouth. The back of your throat sore as he forced himself in.Spit was running down your chin, over your throat as he jumped, thrusting into your mouth not seeming to care if you could breathe or not.

“You had so much fun talking shit to Izzy, why don’t you use that tongue to lick my cock.?” he growled out. If he didn’t have your lips wrapped around his cock and wasn’t using you as his own personal fucktoy you would have smiled at this, loving that the usual calm and collected man was jealous.

Flipping your tongue to stroke the man who was fucking your mouth, you heard a groan of appreciation leave his lips. That was all you needed to keep going. Wrapping your lips tighter around him. His hand flexed in your hair, surprised it loosened for a second as he changed his grip to a petting of your hair. Letting you take over for a second as you popped him from your mouth, licking the underside of his cock, rolling his balls in your hands, and stroking the thick, hard cock.

Grunting, he grabbed your hair again, remembering he was mad and pulling you back to the tip, forcing it into your mouth. You held his shaft in your palm, working him as he groaned. The sounds he was making just giving you more motivation to perform.

“I’m going to cum.” He warned. You started working harder, your wrist twirling as your mouth stayed around him, tightly your lips remained around his cock your tongue still working him. You waited, hungry for the hot cum to fill your mouth but instead he pulled himself from your lips. Jerking himself quickly in a few hard, needy pumps he splashed across your face. Strings of sticky cum in your hair, over your cheeks and mouth.

You sat back, shocked and feeling annoyed at his retaliation. Licking your swollen lips hungrily your pout deepened as he pulled his shirt off tossing it to you with a wicked grin.

“You better clean up, Y/N.” The way he was grinning set you off. He knew exactly what he was doing. “I’ll come get you after the show. Give you some time to think about what you’ve done.” He turned leaving your there, covered in his cum with just a tshirt to change into. Son of a bitch.

What Slash didn’t expect was you pulling yourself together. Washing your face and applying makeup from a bag someone had left around.  Taking off the mesh shirt that has been ruined skirt that you had cleaned yourself off with. Now you were just in combat boots, a little bit of tape and a lace thong. Your brown hair was pulled into a ponytail as you stepped out of the bathroom, eyes on you as you walked to the side stage holding Slash’s clean shirt.

When you heard the fast pace guitar on ‘You’re Crazy’ start a smile danced on your lips. He was going to kill you. Walking across stage Duff was the first one to see you, hips swinging as you danced to the song. The bassist stepped back not wanting to get involved in what would surely be a war on stage.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Axl sang out his arm wrapping around your waist, spinning you and dipping you before picking you up. Slash had spotted you now. His eyes on you as you dropped low dancing and looking out at the crowd. Tossing your ponytail you raised your leg slapped long your ass before strutting over to him. The anger that was radiating off him was so strong you could smell it. It was sweat and masculinity. The scent made you shiver as you thought of what was going to happen when he got off the stage.

But now you were performing  to piss him off. You laid the shirt over his shoulder as he played guitar, dancing around him. Your lips kissed the muscles on his back until you were facing him. Instead of giving you the hands you had expected he swung his guitar back reaching out for you and pushing his lips harshly against yours. The kiss crushed you as he held you in place. When he pulled away from you, his eyes were shining.

“You’re a brat.” He said it with warning but affection mixed in. A devious smile spread across your face and you wrapped your arms around his neck. It didn’t matter that you were in front of an audience, he was finally giving you the attention you wanted. “Let me finish the show you’re trying to steal.” He took the shirt off his shoulder shooing you to the side stage, the shirt twisting and snapping to slap your ass cheek as you went.

There was no doubt in your mind when you got home there was going to be hell to pay but the butterflies that should have been fear in your stomach were of pure excitement.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Bnha as things I’ve said during ✨mental breakdowns✨ part 3:

Izuku: I’m nervous, so I need to pace, but I’m dizzy from pacing so much

——————

Mina: I would like you all to know that I win at therapy: I have made my therapist cry and laugh, a n d,,,, she said that I was her favorite patient after I introduced her to one of my stuffed animals

——————

Mei: I keep mixing up my “be gay, do crime” playlist with my “✨espionage✨” playlist. This is a problem, as one of them makes me want to kiss girls, and the other one makes me want to steal from big corporations. What I need to remember is that the two can coexist

——————

Monoma: I am singlehandedly the best, and worst person alive; and I think that deserves some credit

——————

Izuku: I love when people tell me that they love my personality, because 9/10 I’m just like, “thanks, it’s yours!”

——————

Uraraka: why do people keep thinking I’m at the bottom of the food chain?! I’m at the top of the food chain! I’ll fight you, I’ll fight you mom!

——————

Izuku: if you’re failing at life, you have to do well in your classes. That is why I study so rigorously and have no life

——————

Shouto: I have mommy issues, I have daddy issues, I have sibling issues, and I have regular issues. How fun am I.

——————

Jirou: can the world just like,,, chill? For one goddamn day

——————

Kirishima: why be yourself when you can be a fictional character you admire and relate to?

——————

Izuku: I find it ironic that my earphones can go through the washer and come out okay, but I can’t go through a day without sobbing

——————

Shinsou: Excuse me, I did not ask to be born and, quite frankly, I am very bitter that I was

——————

Monoma: I hate myself so much, I am the best person alive

——————

Shouto, altered slightly to fit the situation: suck on that, dad; I’m a f*cking disappointment! Hah!!

——————

Kaminari, who has never touched a drop of alcohol I’m his life: I’m to sober to deal with this

——————

Aoyama and/ or Uraraka: I may be small and cute, but I can kick your head off

——————

Aoyama: I am mentally ill and writing a musical about it

——————

Izuku, altered slightly to fit the situation: fuck you, kacchan I am extraordinary; even my therapist thinks I’m too broken to fix

——————

Shinsou: it’s insani-tea; therefore, if I drink coffee, I can avoid it

——————

Izuku and/or Sero: a kangaroo pouch can hold an entire living being inside it, and I can’t even hold my life together

———————

Sero: sure, flex tape can hold a boat together, but can it hold this fucking trauma??? No. No the fuck it cant

———————

Izuku: dammit, I’m the fictional character that I always yell at

———————

Shinsou: coffee is the only constant in this life

———————

Bakugou: why destroy yourself when you can destroy things, like your relationships, will to live, and glass

———————

Mina: ah yes, destroying things; my preferred method of exercise, along with running from my problems and dancing

———————

Mina and Aoyama: 🎵and we dance,, the trauma,,, away! away, away, away, away! We dance,, the trauma, away, hey hey!🎵

———————

Aoyama: i have mental breakdowns way too much… it’s a good thing I make them look hot

———————

Sero: I don’t know if I’m so funny because of the trauma, or because of natural born talent. Probably a bit of both; either way, I aim to amuse and confuse

———————

Monoma: I am a national treasure that the world never wanted, but f*cking needed

———————

Kaminari: you get really weak after a mental breakdown to match your weakened mental state

———————

Iida: and I’m just going to take my glasses off, so that I can no longer see the hideous world I was brutally forced to live in

———————

Mina: I’m the smartest ditz in the business

———————

Shouto: yeah? Well I’m too much of a problem that even my therapist broke up with me

———————

Aoyama: I might me cute, and small, and a femme gay, but I crave violence! Despite my fear of conflict

———————

Kaminari and/or izuku: I’m just listening to sad music, and reading sad fanfics, which is not good for me; but when have I ever done anything that would benefit me?

———————

Shouto *altered slightly to fit the situation*: about to go beat a punching bag with a bat and pretend it’s my father face

———————

Shouto: I have just found out that my entire personality is just trauma response… I hate that for me

———————

Mina: who has time to feel safe? I’m to busy being pretty

[marshieee]

Could i request kuroo ushijima sakusa and msby bokuto when you come to their games but its a big game and you bring your kid(s) with you. (Maybe the kid(s) help bokuto with his emo mode or the kids help calm their dad down) idk i just thought this would be cute and fun for you to write

Also idk if you accept anons but if you do can i be midnight anon

Aahhhhh a father to children interaction i love that!❤️❤️ i still can’t believe I’m receiving request huhuhu😭❤️ OFCOURSE I ACCEPT ANONS! CHARACTER ANONS OR WHATEVER JUST COME TO ME!!!🥰 also this is gonna be their timeskip version so I’m gonna stick with kuroo’s timeskip profession if you don’t mind also i wanted to try to make this a little scenario just tell me if you want to make this as a hc. Sorry this took awhile.

When their kid(s) came to see them

Kuroo

“Man...”

Kuroo was watching schweiden alders game feeling nervous as he watch ushijima spikes the ball.

“Jeez he’s gonna break the ball at this point”

He was assigned to ask ushijima for a promotion video promoting a good sportsmanship and promoting the game just like what he did with hinata.

Normally he wouldn’t get this nervous but learning that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son changed his mood. Also knowing that ushijima would eventually become a professional volleyball player under Japan V. League soon.

“Like father like son huh”

Suddenly out of nowhere, even though the whole place was booming with cheers and claps he heard someone calling him.

“DADDY!!!”

He turned around and saw his ball of sunshine running towards him with you trailing behind.

“Baby!”

He kneels down and opened his arms waiting for his son to come to him. The toddler then dives into his fathers arms and started giggling, he stood up carrying his son.

“What brings you here buddy?”

“Mommy said she was going to watch a volleyball game and asked me if i wanna go”

“And you did”

“AND I DID”

As you finally reached them he gave you a cheeky smile, he kissed your cheeks since his son is there so kiss on the lips can wait.

“Hi kitten”

“Hello to you too kuroo-san”

“KUROO-SAN?”

You laughed but finally noticing his is kind of pale worried that he might be sick you gently cupped his face.

“Are you ok?”

He grabs your hand and give it a kiss, feeling that he is slowly calming down.

“Yeah”

But suddenly his son grabbed both of his cheeks and forcibly turned kuroo to face him.

“Y-Yes?”

“Daddy are you sick?”

“No buddy I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”

“Really?”

“Really”

“Okay”

“Hahaha...ok”

Still not convinced with his father’s word he gave kuroo a kiss on the cheeks and made up a little chant to make sure he’s ok.

“Thank you baby i feel a lot better now”

“What’s up with you anyways?”

“Well i was assigned to ask ushijima if he can make a promotion video with us”

“And? What’s wrong with that?”

“Recently i just discovered that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son”

“Wait really? The utsui takashi?”

“Yeah”

“Omygod”

“I know right?!”

Suddenly someone flung their arms around your shoulder, now that you noticed how close your face were with kuroo. The both of you looked at your son who is struggling to keep his arms around you since you’re a bit far, giggling you stepped closer, when he got comfortable, he took a deep breath and puts on a serious face.

“Who is utsui takashi?”

“Why is utsui takashi?”

“How is utsui takashi?”

You three fell silent for a good minute before bursting with laughter.

“Why are we even huddling anyways?”

You took your son out of kuroo’s arms and continued laughing with him. Kuroo watched both of his precious gems having fun, all smiles and that’s what he likes.

Ushijima

It was a big day today since it’s msby vs schweiden alders game.

He felt a excitement since he’s going to play against hinata shoyo again after those years. The fact that you told him you can’t come to his game today since you’re too busy and his daughter has a play date really saddens his mood. Boy just wants to flex sometimes you know.

Suddenly he heard a commotion outside their waiting room, he didn’t mind it at first but it gradually got a little louder so he decided to check it out. This man got confused over a commotion cause not only his teammates were there also the msby players were also there huddled in the middle of the hallway.

“What’s happening?”

They all turned around that made ushijima anxious because duh they were looking at him like he just killed someone then all of a sudden in the center of those giant players was a lovely little girl.

“PAPA!!!”

“Keiko?”

Fun fact: ushi named his daughter keiko that means “respected child”

Keiko runs up to her father and ushijima instantly scoops her up in his arms.

“Papa i’m here”

“But i thought keiko has a play date today?”

“Keiko said she wants to watch her papa play”

The boys gave way to you as you walked up to the both of them. Ushijima gave you a smile and pecks your lips.

“Hi mama”

“Hello honey”

Suddenly Kageyama appeared besides you and bowed.

“Hello y/n-san!”

“Oh my hello tobio-kun”

“TOBIO NII-CHAN!!”

“Hello keiko”

Hoshiumi then appeared behind ushijima and waved at little keiko.

“Hiii keiko-chan!”

“HOSHIUMI NII-CHAN!!”

“Hey keiko who do you think is the coolest?—“

“Papa!”

“No no not that—“

“But papa is the coolest for me”

“Besides your papa, me or hinata shoyo?”

Suddenly hinata pops out and caught keiko’s attention, ushijima had to hold her since she moved to the side to look at hinata. She stared at hinata making him nervous.

“SUNSHINE!!!”

They all got quiet when keiko shouted sunshine while giggling, hinata on the other hand was confused.

“Sunshine?”

“Shoyo nii-chan sunshine!��

Hinata blushed furiously after receiving a compliment from keiko, hoshiumi did not know what’s happening so he asked ushijima if he can carry keiko.

“Sure just be careful”

“I will i will”

Then they started to surround keiko again asking who’s the coolest to who’s the tallest and who’s the best etc. etc.

Ushijima watched as her baby girl was getting along with his teammates and other teams as well. You looked at ushijima who has a soft look, nudging him to the side.

“It looks like keiko is popular huh~”

“Yeah”

“Ah I wonder if she’s also popular at her daycare~”

Ushijima turned to look at you with a confused expression.

“Because if she is there’s probably a boy who likes her—“

“No”

“But what if when she goes home and told us about—“

“No”

“Aww keiko will have a prince—“

Ushijima grabbed both of your cheeks and kissed your nose, but he still looks frustrated after you put those thoughts in his head.

“Y/N no”

“Owkie~”

Sakusa

Today is a big day for the japan V league, the gymnasium was packed with fans and supporters for each team. You could see a lot of flags here and there, there’s also a huge group of people who would cheer for their teams.

A lot of camera has been clicking and taping since then. Fortunately for you, you got a good seat in front thanks for the sources you had, your little girl who’s sitting besides you is very excited to watch the game.

She begged you to have her face painted with a japan flag which you unfortunately did because you can’t say no to her sometimes, you gave her a fan with the japan’s team on it so she could wave it around and to fan herself of course.

The game has started and you cheered with your daughter, shouting and jumping whenever the japan team scores a point. Soon the game ended and it was the win of the japan team. You felt someone tug your shirt looking down you saw your daughter who was ready to go.

“Mommy let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Alright baby calm down we’re going”

You held her hands as you two walk towards the court, thankfully you two wore a pass around your neck or else.

When you arrived at the court a lot of people were there, paparazzi, reporters, few important peoples and all. You were trying to spot your husband among the crowd but your daughter found him first, she lets go of your hand and came dashing to wherever she found her father.

“AH BABY! WAIT!”

“DADDY!!”

Sakusa was having an interview with a reporter that time so he didn’t notice a little girl running towards him, when she got to where her daddy was she immediately hugged him.

The reporter was confused and panicking since a little girl suddenly interrupted their interview, they were glancing back and forgot to sakusa to the little girl when all of a sudden sakusa smiled and lifted her up.

“Where were we again?”

“Oh..um right uh, y-your thoughts about the game”

“Ah yes, they were a tough opponent that’s given it was really hard to go pass through their defense so it was nice when aran broke their defenses with one hard spike, overall it was a good game everyone did their best so that’s what matters”

“Right one last question um do you know this little girl?”

Sakusa looked at the ball of sunshine in his arms and smiled at her.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?”

The nodded enthusiastically at her father,

“Go on”

“Hello! My name is sakusa hayami! Nice to meet you!”

Fun fact:Sakusa named his daughter hayami which means “rare beauty”

The reporter was surprised and looked at sakusa who was smiling.

“She’s my daughter”

“Oh! Hello hayami-san nice to meet you too how old are you?”

“I’m...”

Hayami slowly extended her fingers and showed them,

“I’m five years old!”

“Wow! Anything you want to say abou your father?”

“Daddy?”

Sakusa then whispered to her.

“What do you want to say about daddy”

“MY DADDY IS AWESOME! HE’S SO STRONG WHEN HE POW THE BALL THEN WHEN THE BALL GO WHOOSH! THEN THEY CAN’T CATCH IT!”

She flings her arms in the air while explaining making the reporter giggle at her cuteness, sakusa then noticed you walking towards them, he gave you a smile and gestures you to come over.

“And here...”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“...is my lovely wife y/n”

You bow down and the reporter bow down also, they look at the three of you and smiled.

“What a lovely family”

“It is”

Sakusa turned to look at you and kissed you on your forehead.

“It is a lovely family”

Suddenly someone shouted at the background causing all of you to turn around.

“HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE BOKUTO!”

“HI HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE TSUMU”

Sakusa turned to look at the reporter with a frustrated face.

“It’s a lovely family not until they come around”

“Ah hahaha...”

When the interview ended hayami played with her uncles, sakusa held your hand.

“Did you enjoyed the game?”

“Yeah i did, Hayami also enjoyed the game”

“Really?”

“Yes really i had to stop her from shouting to much or she’ll hurt her throat”

“Hahahaha...i see”

He placed a soft kiss on your hand, you looked at him.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome~”

Bokuto

You wanted to surprise bokuto so you didn’t tell him that you’ll be watching his game today all he knows is you’ll be at your friend’s house since they needed you with something and the kids were scheduled with a play date.

He didn’t mind of course but it’s still sad that his babies wouldn’t be there to watch him play but when you told him that you’ll be watching at the television he said that he’ll do his best.

Now that you’re here at the noisy gymnasium full of spectators who supports their favorite teams, other brought their own banner some joined a cheering team. The whole gymnasium was full of tension and excitement that infected both of your children as they were jumping and shouting that you have to sometimes cover their mouth or else they’ll hurt themselves.

“GOOOO DADDY!!!!”

“GO GO MSBY!!!”

Bokuto didn’t know that you three were there all he knows is to focus on the game and win. Since the whole area was full of cheer it’ll be hard for bokuto to hear his kids cheering for him.

As the game went on the msby team isn’t doing well they were five points behind and they needed to catch up or the numbers will pile up. You can tell your husband is getting frustrated since his spikes keeps getting blocked, unlike before he knows how to calm down and act rationally but the frustration is still there if this continues he will lose his focus.

You have to do something, you were thinking of ways to help your husband and then suddenly your kids started shouting even more.

“DADDY YOU CAN DO THIS!!!”

“DADDYYYY!!!!”

You guessed that they sensed that their daddy is having a tough time, then it came to you, it’s kind of dumb to bring this with you but you thought that you might need or someone might need it and it looks like you did. Tapping the shoulders of the shouting children they then looked at you.

“Kasuga, haruki...”

You named your little girl kasuga which means “spring day” while bokuto named his young man haruki which means “shining sun”

You gave them a thumbs up as they looked at you with a confused expression.

“...leave it to mommy”

You grabbed your bag and looked for the thing that you brought, you immediately pulled it out of the bag.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a megaphone”

Yes, you did brought a megaphone without any reason you just shoved it down and brought it.

“Mega-phone?”

“Uh huh you can talk here and it’ll make your voice suuuuper loud and I’m sure daddy will hear it!”

They were excited to use it since they know that their daddy will finally hear them, you started to turn on the megaphone and handed the it to them.

“You two hold it very still”

Haruki lets his sister hold the upper part of handle while he holds the lower part of it. You made sure that it was on and loud and clear.

“Ok now you two go in front right, there in the railings mommy will be right beside you”

You don’t want other people burts their damn eardrums when the twins shouts. They slowly and carefully walked down the stairs holding on the megaphone on their hands. When you arrived at the bottom, the twins looked at you as you gave them your signal.

“Ok on the count of three...one...two...three!”

They took a deep breath and cheered.

“DADDYYYYYY DO YOUR BESTTTT!! YOU CAN DO THISSSS!!! GOOO FIGHTTTTT!!!”

If it’s just one of them it wouldn’t really attract a lot of people but since there’s two of them I’m sure there’s a lot of people who’s looking at the three of you. You blushed a little but didn’t stop the twins since you’re a supportive mother and wife.

Bokuto heard their screams, at first he thought he was hallucinating but when hinata turned around and started to wave at them.

“KASUGA-CHAN! HARUKI-CHAN!!”

“Kasuga...haruki...”

He finally turned around and saw his two bundle of joy waving at him and right beside them was you who looks flustered but still waving at him. He felt all of his frustrations fading away by just looking at the three of you all smiles for him, so he raised both of his arms and smiled.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!”

The twins immediately handed you the megaphone and copied their father’s actions.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!” “HEY HEY HEY!!!”

Bokuto turned to look at you, you blowed him a kiss to which he blows you one back. Feeling a lot better he tapped both sakusa and hinata’s back.

“LET’S WIN THIS!”

Bonus:

Atsumu watched bokuto’s with his lovely family and felt extremely jealous on how the two of you blowing kisses to each other.

“How come bokuto has two cute children and a beautiful wife”

Grumbling at himself he turned to look for a camera who’s recording live on television but since there’s a alot he just shouted.

“SAMU IF I WIN THIS YA BETTER GIVE ME A FREE ONIGIRI YA JERK!”

Fortunately that was caught on cam and fortunately for him too osamu was watching live on his phone.

“THEN WIN YA DUMBASS!!!!”

[fickle-tiction]

Gotham’s Ticklish Prince

This started out as a headcanon, and then it spiraled out of control. You’re welcome.

  ~~

One day Bruce Wayne makes headlines. This isn’t surprising, or even noteworthy. He’s always making headlines for some silly nonsense he does as Bruce, to draw attention away from Batman. What is surprising is when he walks into the Hall of Justice and sees his face smiling back at him from about 10 different magazines strewn all over the meeting table.

Specifically, he sees himself curling inwards, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, mouth stretched into a wide surprised smile as Mike, his date to last night’s gala, stands behind him. Thankfully, Mike’s hands are out of frame so no one can tell from the picture that he’s squeezing Bruce’s sides from behind.

“Oh look.” Arthur says, coming out of nowhere with a shit eating grin on his face. “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince decided to show his face.”

If Bruce didn’t have years of training and self discipline under his belt he would have flushed.

A Different magazine comes flying at him and smacks him in the stomach before he can even blink. Bruce catches it on reflex and looks down, only to be met with the headline “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince Has A New Squeeze” and, to his internal horror, it shows a picture snapped about two seconds after the first one. Bruce is clearly laughing in delight as Mike squeezes his sides, in full view of the camera. Several smaller pictures are beneath it, catching Bruce as he latches onto Mikes hands, turns and leans in close to tell him to stop. He didn’t have to flip to page 4, where the story apparently continued, to know what other pictures they surely got. Mike hadn’t stopped after one squeeze, and Bruce was too into character, and for once too unaware of any paparazzo nearby, to make him stop.

He knew he should have skipped the gala last night. Getting only 3 hours of sleep over the course of 4 nights and then slipping into his Bruce persona was always risky. Normally the two whiskies he had wouldn’t affect him at all, but the exhaustion plus the fact that he liked this Mike guy and was feeling comfortable and loose, clearly created a perfect storm. He remembered Mike sneaking up on him, he remember his guard being down just enough for it to catch him unawares and cause a reaction. He remembered how good it felt, but he won’t be letting himself go there. No. No thank you.

What he didn’t remember was the paparazzi being right there.

Or what would happen when those pictures surfaced at HQ.

Bruce finally looked up from the front cover of the Gotham Globe and was met with identical smirks from Arthur and Clark. Well, that explained the newspaper smacking him in the stomach earlier.

“It’s a character.” Bruce said, voice flat as he tossed the magazine onto the conference table. It wouldn’t help his situation if he tried to throw it out or look like he was hiding something.

“Right.” Clark didn’t sound like he was buying it at all. “So you knew you were being recorded. That’s why you put on such a convincing act.”

Recorded?

Recorded?!

Again, Bruce didn’t outwardly react at the news, but inside he was curling into a ball, ready to wither and die at any second. They fucking got that on video?

Naturally, the huge screen on the wall clicks on at the moment, showing a video of Bruce doing something on his phone. He had actually been playing some asinine game as he waited for Mike to come back from the bathroom. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught doing anything more than slicing up fruit on his phone, after all.

“I see Victor’s here.” Bruce says dryly, as though his eyes aren’t glued to the screen. His face remains impassive, but inside he’s once again screaming for his past self to turn around as Mike comes into frame behind him. He’s so busy watching Mike smirk and start sneaking up behind him (and, really, how did he not notice this last night? The guy is being so damn obvious about it.) that he doesn’t notice Clark and Arthur inching closer to him on either side.

Bruce feels a hand latch onto either of his sides just as Mike reaches forward and does the same on camera. Thankfully, Bruce’s guard has been up since he first saw his goofy face smiling back at himself when he walked into the room, so he does nothing more than cock an eyebrow and look at first Arthur, and then Clark.

“It’s a character.” He repeats, ignoring the staccato squeezing at one of his worst spots.

“I’m not going to react like he does, even though this tickles like hell. Bruce Wayne is an airheaded goof ball. Batman might be ticklish, but he doesn’t let it show--what the fuck?!” Bruce looked down to see a glittering gold rope wrapped innocently around his ankle. “Diana! What the hell?! I’m going to--” He cut off, clamping his mouth shut as he felt words trying to spill out. Words he most definitely did not want to say in the present company.

“Going to what, Brucie?” Diana asked, smirking as she held the lasso of truth in her hand. Bruce glared daggers at her, lips clamped tightly even as the squeezing on his sides turned to wiggling fingers and, to his horror, he felt his resolve breaking. 

“I’m--” Bruce huffed, biting his lower lip to keep from both speaking and laughing. “--I’m going--” His mouth was trying to curve into a smile, but Bruce was nothing if not stubborn and refused to let it happen.

“We’ve almost got him.” Arthur smirked, venturing a little lower and pinching just above Bruce’s hipbone. 

Clark noticed the jolt that caused and immediately followed suit on his side.

“I’m-Going-To-Pretend-To-Hate-all-of-you-to-keep-up-my-image.” Bruce was forced to say, as he finally caved and latched onto Arthur and Clark’s hands. Not that it did him any good. He might be The Batman, but outside of his suit he didn’t stand a chance against Superman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman, if she decided to get more hands on.

“You don’t actually hate it, do you.” Clark marveled, giving that spot above his hipbone another gentle pinch. Thank God for his super hearing, because without it he probably would have missed the squeak Bruce let out.

“I-” Again, Bruce was trying to clamp his mouth shut, but it wasn’t very effective since his mouth was stretched into a wide grin. “I have an image to maintain!” It was supposed to come out as a growl, but instead it sounded more like a whine as Bruce’s dam broke and laughter started pouring out of him.

“Well, if you’re trying to maintain the Ticklish Prince of Gotham image, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Arthur mocked him, now fluttering his fingers up and down Bruce’s side rapidly. 

Bruce was lost to the laughter, something that hasn’t happened to him since he was a kid. He began backing up, trying to back away from the tickling fingers flying furiously up and down both sides of his body. Absently, he noted that Diana must have let him go because he didn’t trip over the lasso as he tried to get away. He did, however, back himself into the wall without realizing it since his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to contain the wild laughter pouring out  of him.

“Fahahahack!” Bruce cursed himself as Clark and Arthur boxed him in, each still tickling away. Clark was now experimenting with Bruce’s stomach while Arthur, the bastard, was worming his way under Bruce’s arm. 

They let him try to defend himself for a minute, wordlessly taunting him as they both danced around his arms with half-hearted attempts to get at his armpits. Finally, Arthur spoke up. “Clark, do you mind doing something about these?” He asked, tracing his fingertips gently up and down Bruce’s forearms. Bruce was well and truly gone if even that tickled like hell.

“Wha-” Bruce asked, laughter starting to die down as he got a short break. He cracked his eyes open, realizing for the first time he had been hunched in on himself, arms clamped down tightly, trying to protect as much of his sides as he could. 

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure.” Clark grinned. Lightening fast, he grabbed up Bruce’s wrists in one strong hand and pinned them to the wall above his head. Bruce’s eyes widened comically, too far gone to have any hope of controlling his facial features.

“Hey now.” He said, voice breathy as caught his breath. “You’ve had your fun.” Instead of the gravely voice they’d come to expect, Bruce’s voice was closer to that of his alter ego Bruce Wayne’s now. Nearly high pitched, and just short of panicky as he flexed his arms against the steel grip they were in.

“Tell me Bruce,” Arthur started, fingers slowly crawling up his ribs towards their destination. Bruce’s nerves immediately jumped to attention because they were already so worked up. “Are your armpits ticklish?”

Bruce tried to glare at him, even as his muscles twitched beneath Arthur’s fingers and his mouth started curving into another grin.

“Diana left.” Clark added, grinning at the man he had pinned to the wall. “And she took her lasso with her. I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

“Fuck.” Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while.

When Clark and Arthur finally let him go, he slumps to the floor in an exhausted heap and marvels at the last time he laughed that much (The answer: never.) or the last time he felt this exhausted without getting his ass whooped, or whooping someone else’s.

Once he’s regained some of his dignity, Bruce goes to the security feed with the intention of deleting the last hour of footage. He surprised to find it’s already gone, the tapes spliced seamlessly, with only a minor blip to show anything is missing. 

Victor, naturally, saved the entire thing to his personal servers. Just in case.

[hisunshiine]

𝙲𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 (𝙼) 𝚔𝚜𝚓

⟢ pairing: xxxdirector!jin x onlyfans!reader 

⟢ word count: 1,184

⟢ genre + warnings: pornstar au || nsfw 18+ smut in the form of striptease, fingering, subtle dom, exhibitionism, voyeurism 

⟢ summary: the pandemic causes you and your roommate Yoongi to have to make onlyfans! accounts to make ends meet, and when you get an offer from BANGtanBros to be the face of their channel, you celebrate with some fun.

⟢ an + credits: Jin just had this very interesting look about him that screamed porn casting director and the story blossomed from there. gifs are from twt page: kimseokjingifs 

You had never done this before, but thanks to the pandemic, you needed to make some money to pay off your bills. So of course you let your best friend and roommate, Yoongi, talk you into making an OnlyFans account. It was lucrative for the necessities, the bills and groceries, but you both were tired of living paycheck to paycheck. You both ran pages, helping each other take photos and film, but it wasn’t enough. 

The two of you sat in the quiet and pristine lobby of an inconspicuous building.

“Are you sure we should do this?”

“Yes, YN, I checked it out and it’s legit. They’re cool dudes. You’ve met Hoseok and Namjoon before. That’s how I know it’s good.”

“Wait, your two nerdy friends are in the porn business?”

“Nerdy? That was their costume that day for a shoot! They’re not actually nerdy at all… Well actually Namjoon kind of is—”

“Talking shit about me Yoongi-hyung?”

“Joon! What’s up man?”

“Nothing much, we saw the footage you sent in of YN, and Jin is super excited to meet her. I think she could easily be the new face of BANGtanBros.”

You blush, a thrill of excitement from doing something so taboo running through your veins.

“Really? He liked it?”

“Liked it? That’s putting it mildly.” Namjoon smirks at you, and you can tell he’s remembering what you look like underneath your sundress. “He’s ready to meet with you.”

Following Namjoon, you and Yoongi head through a blue door into a blue carpeted room. The walls are vibrant orange and yellow, and you can’t help but notice the 5 directors chairs in a row, 4 filled with men in suits. There’s another chair on the wall, which Namjoon points Yoongi to, and placing his hand to the small of your back, guides you to the small loveseat facing the rest of the room.

All of the men continue talking as you sit down, but glance over at you with no shame, eyes roving your crossed legs as your dress slides up your thighs exposing more skin. Namjoon leaves you to take a seat, and you start to get nervous.

“All right boys, tell me that beautiful woman is here.”

“She is, hyung.”

“YN!” A tall, broad shouldered man in all white walks in from a side door, sunglasses gracing his face. His silk shirt is unbuttoned several spots, and you ache to open it the rest of the way to see the golden expanse the shirt was hiding. 

He was gorgeous. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, mesmerized by him as he wheels an orange chair over to you and sits down, whisking off his sunglasses.

“Wow, you are even more gorgeous in person. I’m Jin.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh no,” he leans forward, placing his large hand on your exposed thigh, “the pleasure is all mine, angel.”

You lick your lips, watching Jin’s eyes dilate.

“So, what did you want me to do?”

“Well, I’ve seen your footage, and I want you. You’re hired. As soon as you sign this.”

“Can I look it over?”

“Absolutely, but I’m sure you’ll sign when you see the perks, payments, and benefits package we offer.” He sits back, cockily. Your eyes can’t look away from the bulge straining against his pants.

“I’m sure I will, sir, but still, in case I have any questions. I hope you understand.”

 “Oooh, fiesty. I love it. So, to celebrate, I’d like to see first hand how you work.”

“Oh?” you question, thrown off by his request. He continues to touch you, rubbing your skin in soothing circles. You didn’t want him to stop touching you. You feel yourself growing moist at his touch, and ache for him to slide his hand higher.

“Yes. I have a signing bonus for you, $10,000 right here. It’s yours though, whether you sign or not. That’s how much I enjoyed the tape you sent in.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Fuck, YN, keep calling me sir and you just might take me for all I’ve got.”

You watch him take a deep breath, closing his eyes, and he let’s go of your leg to sit back.

“Now, about that live viewing?”

The look he pierces you with is domineering, so unlike the way he had just been looking at you, and you feel yourself instantly want to obey.

“Yes, sir.”

Slowly, your fingers pull the straps from your dress down, revealing to Jin and the rest of the room your bra-less breasts. The cold air makes your nipples peak, and you lean back into the couch. Arching, you push your chest outward towards Jin and palm your breasts, letting out a small moan when you apply a gentle pressure. 

Jin shifts imperceptibly, and you smile up at him innocently.

“Like this, sir?”

“Yes, just like that.”

You lift one leg slowly, placing your foot on the arm of the orange chair Jin was sitting on, allowing the skirt of the dress to pool around your waist and give him an unhindered view of your wet cunt. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes unwavering as he enjoys the proof of you being this turned on from him.

“You did this to me, sir. You should take care of it.”

“You want me to clean up the mess I caused?”

You nod, eyes wide and innocent.

“Angel, you don’t know what you’re asking for.. I’m not a saint.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t come here looking to be saved.”

“Fuck.”

Jin leans closer to you, and you prop your other leg up, giving him full access. He runs his perfectly manicured fingers along your slit, and you don’t hold back your whines for more. He prods at your entrance with his index finger, and you push your hips seeking to take his finger deeper.

Your walls press against his finger, tightly gripping him as he plunges in and out before adding a second finger. 

This time, you’re louder, and the other men look over, pulled out of their conversation as they catch the way you whimper for their boss.

“Angel, you’re a little too loud, you’ve caught their attention,” Jin smirks devilishly at you as he strokes on the spongy nerves sending tingles to your extremities, “but by the looks of it, you’ll cum quickly. One of the things I liked most about your footage.”

“R-Really?” you breathe out, clenching around his fingers when he rotates his thumb on top of your swollen clit. You can feel it building, and you want to give him your orgasm. With how he was able to read your body’s needs and give it exactly what you need, bringing you to climax faster than any man, a feat you thought only you could achieve for yourself, he deserved it.  

“Oh yea, Angel, you get straight to the point, and from a business standpoint, that’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Why is—shit, please don’t stop—why is that good, sir?” You can barely get the words out without mewling, flexing your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Less footage on the cutting room floor, love. Now cum.” ❀

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

thank you for reading! ♡ 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. ♡

[lucycola]

The Lone Survivor: Part 2

Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. The Golden Trio realize the footage from the wreck could wrongfully incriminate the reader. They attempt to find a way out of this. PART ONE HERE

SLOW BURN. Eventual smut in later parts. More Bones dialogue than probably necessary but WHATEVER. Fatherly Bones. There will be more one on one Reader and Spock in part three. Right now it plays like a normal episode with build up because I’m stubborn. 

WARNINGS:  Movie amnesia, sexual themes if you squint, mentions of death, and implied one-sided matrimony.

Part 2: The Night We Met I Knew I Needed You So

There was no mistaking the final moments illustrated in the found footage from the Calvary. It was you assaulting the crew on the bridge-you setting a course straight to destruction on Toravalve 9.

However, Mister Spock had disagreed. He had reached into your mind and saw you in your own eyes. It couldn’t have been you.

After carrying you back to the medbay you were put safely back in your bed with a Doctor McCoy who hovered over you like a disgruntled mother bear. With the tricorder at your forehead you pleaded with him to relax. 

Captain Kirk had been summoned to hear what you both, or rather, Mister Spock had to say. For some stranger reason Spock omitted the existence of the orange tape. He deliberated his own findings via meld instead. 

“A copy of sorts, Captain.”

“And you’re sure you saw the Lieutenant looking...at her own self?”

“As unlikely as it may seem, it is was I saw. Although it was also demonstrated that the Lieutenant received a severe head injury before witnessing her own self attack the crew members.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t some kind of...” Kirk deliberated for a moment, “... out of body experience.”

“Also unlikely. Although it is perceivable Lieutenant L/N maybe have suffered delusions after cranial trauma I possess a suspicion that an illusion was made unto the Lieutenant and the crew.”

Kirk glanced at you for a moment and back to Spock, quizzically at first, but then with a dashing smirk. “A hunch, Spock? How very...human.”

Spock quirked a brow, hands still stonily behind his back, “All endeavors begin with a hypothesis.”

“You believe me,” you murmured, from your bed still although no longer in your white, medbay gown you were graciously presented with black Starfleet fatigues. Nurse Chapel had gently maneuvered your unruly waves into two pleats that were coming undone slowly.

A stark contrast to the pristine, polished head science officer.

The fingers on Spock’s right hand flexed at the sound of your voice.

He only turned his head to look at you, “Empirical data is what needs to be obtained-whether I believe what memories are buried in your subconscious is incidental.”

“They still don’t feel real,” you admitted. Not even your name felt real.

“Such an admission will not help your case and I advise you keep that opinion to yourself, Lieutenant.”

You felt like he was chiding you. Your ground your jaw slightly and you knew he could feel it: the aggravation, the impatience. Fear.

His right fingers flexed again, but his expression, unchanging as ever, gave nothing away.

The electric pool of warmth in the back of your mind hushed you, told you to remain calm. Diplomatic.

How could looking at your own self feel real? ‘She’ seemed so real. You had walked around the corner and met yourself, squaring you up instantly. She lunged for you and you wrestled with her, shocked at the fact that you had your own hands around your throat. They weren’t your hands. It was an imposter. 

How? That was the real question. 

“How do we find proof then, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked, reinserting himself.

“We locate the imposter and confirm my hypothesis.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Kirk replied.

“Indeed it will not be so. Commander Craft is aware of the meld that took place and will order me to testify my findings against the lieutenant. Until the Lieutenant’s sanity can be declared-”

“I’m sure I can help with that,” the doctor said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

“What is left is concrete evidence,” Spock added.

“The imposter,” Kirk finished, nodding. 

“Who’s Commander Craft?” you asked.

He turned to look at you. You were made to feel the oblivious child with everyone in the room talking about you. However, you listened and you absorbed. You were careful with your input. Listen first, talk later, you thought to yourself. The presence in the back of your mind hummed in monotonic approval as if to say, good girl.

You wondered what those words tasted like on Spock’s lips. You shuddered in embarrassment and turned your head away.

Spock coughed uncharacteristically, “Commander Craft is the elected official heading the investigation crew from the Federation. We were contacted yesterday and were to present a full report of our findings and happenings.”

Which included the bond. That detail in itself was still above you, not fully explained nor understood. You could feel it for what it was and knew he was there. Not why or how, however. 

 “We must garner more time,” Spock continued to his captain, “And possibly keep myself from testifying.”

“We could declare you insane,” the doctor quipped earning another brow arch from his opposing.

“You’re asking for a loophole,” Kirk stated.

“Essentially, Captain.”

Kirk seemed to know there was more to it, the way he pursed his lips and put his fists on his hips. You knew yourself that if Spock testified against you with what he saw in the meld then there was no evidence against you truly-just what you yourself witnessed. However, Spock would be asked to tell the whole truth and that included the tape. If you were deemed crazy then your own experiences would be null and void.

Did Kirk already know about the tape?

Kirk sighed,” Spock, I...we’d be misleading not only Starfleet, but the Federation. This isn’t the first time you’ve-”  he glanced at you, “-taken the unorthodox route to obtain justice.”

“Then I am asking for your trust, Captain.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed then softened. He relented and with a sturdy tone which meant business as he relayed, “I suppose you already a loophole in mind then?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Spock paused, fighting to look at you.

“Well, aren’t you gonna tell us?” the doctor asked.

“Proposals are not so elementary to make on Vulcan, even when it is logical...but also yet not as it could fare unfavorable circumstances. Especially if one party is unwilling.”

It took Kirk a moment, and even the doctor even longer.

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re willing to marry her so you don’t have to testify?” he asked incredulously.

You were stupefied, impressed, but stupefied. The stoic Vulcan could play dirty. An actual proposal.

“You’re going to marry her?” Bones asked, mortified, “She’s a person...not a pawn! This is her life we’re meddling with. Marriage is a serious thing-”

“You’ll find, Doctor, that I am quite serious.”

“You could wreck her life.”

“I intend on saving it.”

Spock, your heart breathed.

“It seems like a reach for you, Spock,” Kirk said, “They would never believe the both of you, even if Y/N did agree.”

“It will be most believable as the Lieutenant and I have already made a bond.”

Silence befell everyone.

“You can’t be serious,” the doctor said finally, a fierce protectiveness in his voice. “At a time like this-”

“It was not intended as I am careful to shield my mind when partaking tactility with other forms-but, she called to me.”

And he had found you in the dark.

“She accepted it-although it is possible that may be due to the extreme duress she was suffering.”

“And you were there to save her,” Bones finished, a grave distaste in his voice.

“Such a bond can be mediated by a healer with moderate difficult just as a Terran divorce can be secured.”

It was a slap to the face. He was as willing to ‘save’ you as he was to dump you and leave you for dead. Red hot turmoil threatened in your core and you clenched your blankets. What was the point then?

Your crew was dead, your reputation tarnished, and everyone thought you were a murderer.

Let me die, you thought, just let me die.

“Certainly not,” Spock said quietly. Both the Captain and the Doctor eyed him wearily as this random statement.

“So you...negating your-”

“No, sir. I am simply waiting for Lieutenant L/N’s input on the matter.”

“There’s no way in hell she’d agree to this. The bond is clearly one-sided, Spock. How could you be so irresponsible?” Bones chided. 

“A explanation escapes me.” He was still looking at you with smoldering eyes, with bright stars dancing behind them. Cold, but fierce.

What other shot did you have? How else could you bide time while searching for this monster? You wanted to give up. It would be easy.

Kirk leaned in to his second in command and suggested softly, “Perhaps you should ask more properly, Mister Spock. She is a lady. Bones is right. It’s her life.”

“Lieutenant-”

Kirk elbowed him.

“Y/N,” he corrected himself, “Will-”

“Yes,” you blurted in a hushed voice, “I will marry you, Mister Spock.”

x

You were left in your bed again under strict supervision this time. You reveled in the shock of what you’d just agreed to, and even the shock of the situation in its entirety. Rediscovering the monster that claimed your crew and your identity was still fresh and seeing it through your own eyes again with the meld drained the life out of you. You were exhausted, but your mind still raced. ‘It’ was on the ship-it had to be. They didn’t find a copy of you or anyone else in the wreckage. You wondered how recognizable some of your crewmates were and you had to still your frantic thoughts. 

“What ever is going on up there it needs to stop. You heart rate is very high.” Doctor McCoy was already readying a hypo. 

“That...thing. It might be here-”

“We’re on high alert, looking for any copies of ourselves. It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened,” he tried to assure you.

“There are no red lights.”

“They get annoying after awhile. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at hiding. But we’ll flush it out. The Captain has a plan.”

“Did Mister Spock tell you the imposter can read your memories? That’s how it tricked me. Did he tell the captain?” you asked, wring your hands with the blanket. 

“Your guess is better than mine.”

You thought back to Spock’s omission to the orange tape. Always flipping back and forth between elusive affection and monotonous professionalism. Marry me. Divorce after. 

“He’s hard to place sometimes.”

“And you agreed to marry him.”

“I did,” you blurted stubbornly. “We’re bonded.”

Bones suddenly became eye level with you, bracing both hands on the rail. “But do you know what that even means?”

You arched a brown similar to Vulcan fashion, “Do you, good doctor?”

Bones shook his head and instead asked, “Sleep now or later? Does it help with the nightmares?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, I think. Doctor?”

“Yes, kitty?”

“Thankyou.”

x

Sleep was apart of the healing process and being roused from it interrupted that. That was at least what Bones tried to argue when the captain requested your presence in the conference room. Flanked by your fiancé and the kindly captain himself you were expected to hold an interview of sorts with Commander Craft via telecom before his arrival at the crash site. Several ships had already come to help clean up. 

“What am I supposed to say?” you half pleaded with them, “I’m not good at lying.”

“You do not have to be deceitful. However, if you find yourself under duress the commander may suspect a guilt as I had sensed upon our initial meeting,” Spock replied, one arm linked on your good side. 

Your other arm supported a crutch when had a nervous hand floating behind it via the captain. 

Kirk shot a reassuring look your way. “I recommend the truth. Tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a stickler for rules and he’s tough on the stand-”

“Jesus,” you muttered. 

“Or...a bit of theatrics couldn’t hurt if you get too overwhelmed. You did just lose your crew.” 

“How could I forget?” Your lip quivered. 

You three paused at the door. 

“I trust my first officer, Y/N,” Kirk turned to face you, “As unorthodox as this has become, I put trust into his melds and by what he has told me you didn’t do anything wrong. That thing-that monster did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears dribbling. “Captain, I let my crew die.”

“Any death having occurred was unintentional on your part, Lieutenant, ”Spock said in his chilly tone, “As was demonstrated in your memory you tired to apprehend and fend off the creature, but to no avail. You did everything in your power. The human emotional phenomena your are experiencing is common upon singular entities having being spared from genocide.”

“That is?” Kirk asked. 

“Survivor’s guilt,” you sighed, finishing the statement for you fiancé. 

x

Commander Craft was not unkind, nor did he smile. He was neither young or old and his questions were fairly basic as the captain’s were three days earlier. You recounted all you could remember, and it was stressed by you and the captain that you had lost most of your general memory due to head trauma. Whether he seemed convinced was unknown to you. You tried to hold back in your distress. The warmth in the back of your mind wrapped around the little knot that pain and anxiety was birthed. It was squeezed it slowly, like the grasp of a hand. You delivered your answers calmly. 

“The double of yourself, you saw. Did you see it transform from your father to yourself?” the commander asked.

“No sir.”

“Have you seen a copy of yourself since you boarded the Enterprise?”

“No sir.”

“And no foreign entity has been detected on the ship?”

“No sir,” the captain replied. 

“Mmm,” the commander paused for the first time in what seemed like hours. “L/N, had you ever experiences delusions or hallucinations before?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And did you experience the trauma to your head before or after you saw yourself sabotaging the ship?”

“I...” you glanced, “I’m not sure. After?”

“Do you remember hitting your head at all?”

“I remember the copy throwing me hard against the wall and everything going black.” You tried to strengthen your voice, but it kept cracking. You heart continued to race. “And-”

It flashed. 

“When I let my father on the ship. I went black there too. But I’m not sure if I hit my head that time.”

“And Mister Spock you were able to witness what Lieutenant L/N saw?”

“Affirmative.”

“But...through her point of view.”

Fuck. You had a feeling he would try to pull the crazy card. 

“Were there any observation tapes recovered from the crash?”

“My  crew obtained few, but to my knowledge they are still processing them,” the captain answered smoothly. 

“Has any other information been made available to any of you?”

You could feel the edges of your vision blacken. You couldn’t make eye contact with him. Cold sweat had broken from your brow.  A cold, steady hand placed itself to your brow. The natural warmth on your mind shimmered. 

“She has a fever, Captain.”

“I won’t tolerate any nonsense, Lieutenant-”

“Commander, she has just lost four-hundred members of her family to a people-eating imposter!” Kirk bellowed lowly, “She’s kept it together well so far. I commend her efforts. You have the wrong idea about her.”

“Until I can find proof of this ‘imposter’ and until her psyche can be cleared by one of our doctors then we’ll see. This isn’t the first time the Federation has had to deal with the Enterprise’s shenanigans.”

“People eating?” you whispered in disbelief.  Oh my god. 

Spock caught on to Kirk’s unnecessary honesty. “It was discovered the imposter’s prime directive was to use the Calvary’s crew as sustenance.”

You toppled forwards and were caught and cradled by your fiancé. 

“Take her to the medbay, Mister Spock,” Kirk ordered. 

“Call for the doctor. I am not taking my eyes off her until we arrive!” the commander snapped. 

“By the time Doctor McCoy arrives she will succumb to shock. I must attend to my t’hy’la in the most logical and efficient manner possible.”  

Kirk fought the need to smile, not realizing that your theatrics weren’t really theatrics. 

x

PART THREE

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (187/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball,  which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made  on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before  66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

     [19 April, Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

Luffa's most recent mission had involved a harrowing battle against Kid Buu.  She had prevailed, but just barely.   Upon her return to the Time Nest, she was taken to the Toki Toki City hospital as quickly as possible.  The Namekian healers could mend her injuries in mere minutes, but they could not undo her fatigue, and so Luffa was kept under observation while she slept.

When she awoke, the first thing she saw was a creature with pink skin, cruel eyes with black sclera, and a toothy grin.  Luffa transformed on pure reflex, and in a flash the room was bathed in a golden light from her Super Saiyan form.  

"Wha--?!" she blurted out.  "What the--?!"

"It's all right, calm down.  I'm just checking your readings."

With the room lit up, Luffa could now see the figure was wearing a white coat and black pants.  It was a Majin woman, like so many others Luffa had seen in Toki Toki City, including her own roommate.  

"I'm Dr. Reca," she said.   "You're in the Toki Toki City hospital.  Everything's fine."

"Sorry," Luffa said.   "But you look a lot like--"

"Kid Buu, I know," Reca said.  She pointed at her nostrils, which looked like the holes one might see on the snout of a reptile.  "It's the nose, isn't it?"

"Yeah, kind of," Luffa said.   "Also, I just fought him before I got here and..."

"Yes, I've heard," Reca said.  "It sounds very impressive.  Not many fighters could stand up to our ancestor, especially in his pure, original form.   How did you do it?"

"I... I was just doing my job," Luffa said.   "It's not like I beat him or anything.  I just kept him busy for a while."

Reca walked around to the side of the bed and began checking machines connected to wires that were taped to Luffa's arm.   As she worked, Luffa noticed a pair of pink tentacles on the doctor's head, which were intertwined to resemble a length of braided hair.  

"Well, word's gotten around the city," Reca said.  "I think you've definitely captured the Majin community's attention.   We don't take much seriously, but our Grandfather Buu is kind of special to us all."

"Look," Luffa said, "It wasn't anything personal.   He was possessed by Demigra.  I had to fight him, or he would have altered the course of history."

"Of course, of course," Reca said.   "All in the line of duty.   How are you feeling?"

Luffa sat up and flexed the fingers on each hand.   "Pretty good, actually.   Last thing I remember was getting healed up and then falling asleep."

"Yes, that was three days ago," Reca said.  

"Three days?"

Reca pointed at Luffa's arm.   "Yes, we had to insert an IV tube to keep you hydrated.  You're probably hungry.   Let me see..."

Reca reached into the pockets of her coat until she found a pen.  She then raised the braided tentacle up from her head until the tip was pointed at her hand.  A beam of pink light shot from the tentacle, and the pen was suddenly transformed into a large chocolate bar, which she handed to Luffa.

"It's got peanuts in it.  Saiyans like peanuts, right?" Reca asked.  

"Uh, sure..." Luffa said.   "Thanks."

"I did a few touch ups on you while you were asleep," Reca said.   "Sometimes Majin healing powers can help things that Namekians can't.   And sometimes it's the other way around, but Trunks told us you've been having some trouble with your ki ever since you got here."

"I have," Luffa said.   "But I'll need to test myself before I can really tell if you did me any good."

"Of course," Reca said.   "Drop by and let me know, okay?"

*******

Luffa returned to her apartment to find Jayncho lying on the floor, thumbing through a magazine about cars.   She would occasionally sip from a glass of creme soda with ice cream scoops in it.  Jayncho looked a lot like Dr. Reca, except she was red instead of pink, and her head tentacles were styled into a faux ponytail instead of a braid, and her nose looked more like a nose.

"Where have you been?" Jayncho asked idly.  

And so Luffa explained her latest mission, and the convalescence that followed, leading right up to her encounter with Dr. Reca.

"She just seemed kind of... strange," Luffa said.  "Like she was of put off by me fighting Majin Buu, but she wouldn't just come out and say it."

"Well, he's our ancestor," Jayncho said.   "You'd be kind of ticked off if I beat up your ancestor, wouldn't you?"

"Not really," Luffa said.   "Actually, I think I'd like to see that.   You're not mad at me, are you?"

Jayncho shrugged.   "Kid Buu's kind of a jerk anyway," she said.   "Goku's the one who killed him.  You just did what you had to do for the sake of history."

"Yeah," Luffa said.  

"Besides, it's the Good Buu who was our ancestor.   You saved his life by intervening.  So, you know."

"Sure," Luffa said.  "You know, the fat one, he's really tough.  You should be proud of him--"

"It's just that... the Kid Buu form is where it all started," Jayncho said.  "He's like the pure Majin, you know?  We all carry him inside of us.   I guess it means more to us than we wanted to admit."

"Great, he puts me in the hospital for three days and I'm the bad guy."

"You're not the bad guy," Jayncho said.   "It's just kind of weird for people.  Majins, I mean.   It's like you being the Legendary Super Saiyan and all.  How would you feel if that just went away, and it didn't matter anymore?"

"'If'?" Luffa shouted.   "That's what happened!  I've been dealing with that since I got to this stupid town!"

"Oh, yeah," Jayncho said.  

"I lost most of my power, then I finally managed to turn Super Saiyan again, only to find out everybody else can do it too!   And no one even remembers me in this era!  All they care about is Kakarot, and apparently when he beats Majin Buu, he gets a free pass!"

"Are you hungry?" Jayncho asked.  "You always gripe about Goku when you're hungry."

"Enough!" Luffa said.   "I've got better things to do than listen to this!"  She grabbed a bag containing a spare set of clothes and headed for the door.  

"What about lunch?" Jayncho asked.  

"Make it yourself!" Luffa growled.  With that, she slammed the door behind her and marched down the hall.  

*******

     [1 July, Age 761.  Earth.]  

The Parallel Quests were the optimal training exercise for Time Patrollers.   Each PQ was created using a fragment of altered history, usually involving a battle.  These fragments had been cut off from the main timeline, and were completely isolated.    Most of them only spanned fifteen minutes or less, with no true beginning or ending.  As such, nothing in the PQ's was genuinely "real", and the Time Patrollers could do practically anything they wanted without causing any damage to the space-time continuum.  

In this particular instance, being able to do "anything" meant not even completing the assigned mission.  In this PQ, the opponents to face posed no great challenge, and so Luffa was free to unleash her power in a remote wasteland on Earth.   As she screamed, the intensity of her ki formed dust devils on the sandy flats, and the ground beneath her was pulverized into a crater.   Luffa simply floated in place, the eye of a miniature golden hurricane.

"Oi!  Could you turn that down?"

Irritated, Luffa reduced her power level to something more manageable, and waited for the others to approach.  

"That's better," said Dewar.  As he floated down beside Luffa, the third member of their group, No. 44 followed close behind.  

"What is it?" Luffa grumbled.  

"Wellll now," Dewar said.  "You don't have to be so grouchy about it.  Your friend here was doing so well taking on Raditz that I thought I should check up on you before she finishes the mission."

Luffa glared at 44, who was now wearing baggy yellow pants and a black shirt.  She still wore her "98CIAL" hat and jacket, and the bulky tool belt around her waist, but otherwise it looked very much like she was trying to imitate Luffa's fashion.    

"Good," Luffa said.  "But you two can do better than that.  At your level, Raditz should be child's play, and a few Saibamen shouldn't be any trouble either.  I don't know why you wanted to tag along on such an easy mission."

"I fought them alone," 44 said.  "Dewar didn't help me, I promise."

"Yeah, I only wanted to join you guys because it seemed like the only way to talk to you, Luffa!" Dewar explained.  "First you're on a mission, then you're in the hospital for three days, and now you're back to training!"

"I've got things to do," Luffa said.   "What's on your mind, Dewar?"

"Did you ever spend much time in Camelian space?" Dewar asked.  

"What?"

Dewar produced a Hoi-Poi Capsule from his pants pocket and opened it to release a folder of printouts.    He then shuffled through these and handed a few select pages to Luffa.  

"We've made some good progress on narrowing down your history," he said, "but there's been some conflicting reports about you.  In particular, there's a Saiyan man who conducted raids on the Camelian Empire's frontier.  Of course, he doesn't match your description, but a lot was made about how he did things no single Saiyan could do.  He'd tear through heavily armed planets like he had a whole raiding party at his back, but witnesses claimed he was acting alone.  You would have been--ohhhh-- let's say nineteen at the time."

"Nineteen?" Luffa exclaimed as she glanced at the pages.   "That couldn't have anything to do with me.  I spent most of that year--"

She suddenly grew very quiet, as she recognized a printout of a blurry photo of the mysterious raider.  Then she blurted out a profanity that had not been heard for a thousand years.  

"Ehhhh?" Dewar said, taking a step back.   He did not recognize the word Luffa spoke, but the look on her face was enough to communicate its meaning.  "You, uh, know the man?"

"He's my father," Luffa snarled.  "This was what he was doing the whole time I was... Never mind."

"He had incredible power too, I take it?" Dewar asked.

"No he didn't," Luffa said.   "By Saiyan standards he was strictly average.   He only got this powerful by letting others experiment on his body.   They used...!"

She quickly shoved the papers back into the open folder Dewar was holding.  

"Hey, you don't have to fill me in on the whole thing," Dewar said.   "He's not you, and that's the main thing I needed to clear up.  It's just that there were a lot of sources that claimed you were a man, and it seems like a lot of the most credible ones were based on these reports.  It definitely helps to have the real thing live and in person for questioning, hah?"

Luffa's hands began to tremble, and she quickly shoved them in her pockets.   "It explains a few things," Luffa said.  "There was a lot of confusion about me at the time.  Mostly, it was a lot of fools who couldn't accept the idea that a woman could do the things I could do.  But sometimes it seemed like people were genuinely confusing me with someone else.  I never could figure it out, but it looks like Father was sabotaging me before I even got started."

"What happened to him, Luffa?" 44 asked.  

Luffa looked at the girl as if she had forgotten she was there.   "What do you care, kid?" she growled.

"I'm just... curious," 44 said.  

"Oi, 44, read the room, will you?" Dewar said.  "The lady obviously doesn't want to talk about it, and--"

Luffa faced 44 and stood about the same distance apart from her as she had with her father that day.   The teenage girl was taller than Luffa, and so Luffa had to tilt back her head to lock eyes with her.   The wild glare and dark circles under Luffa's eyes were no less intimidating, however.  

"He betrayed me, so I killed him," Luffa said.   "I gave him a free shot, just to see what he could do.   Then I punched him, right about here--"

Luffa made a fist and gently held it up against 44's abdomen, though there was nothing gentle about her expression as she relived this moment.

"One strike, and I destroyed his liver.   It would have taken him hours to die that way, so I offered him a quicker way out, if he told me something I needed to know.

She held up her hand in front of 44's face, mimicking a ki blast technique.   "He answered my question, so I blasted his head off."  

"I... I see," 44 said.

"Not a very wholesome story, is it?" Luffa said with a mirthless smile.  "I doubt a cyborg like you could relate, 44.   You don't even have a father, do you?"

"No," she said.  "I don't.

"Trust me, you're better off," Luffa said.  "You know, the stupid thing is, I actually miss him sometimes.   He never really cared about me, but he had me fooled for a lot of years.  Sometimes I wish I had let him live.   But I guess I would have lost him anyway when I got brought to this era.  So, 44, now that you've heard that story, are you sure you still want to wear my colors in battle?"

44 took a deep breath before answering.  "I just thought... well, you seemed to enjoy my company during the Broly mission," she said.  "And you invited me to accompany you on other missions.   I thought if I wore the same clothes... well, it seemed like a show of solidarity..."

She looked like she was about to tear up, and Luffa decided to back off.   "Forget it, kid," Luffa said.   "I'm just in a bad mood, that's all.   You can wear whatever you want, just don't assume I'm some sort of role model, all right?"

The girl nodded anxiously, and Luffa returned her attention to Dewar.  "Well, was there anything else you wanted to know?" she asked.

"Uhhh, no, I think that'll do 'er," he replied.   "Heh-heh...That's my little joke.  "Do 'er?  Dewar?  Eh?"

"Fine," Luffa said.  "Let's get the mission settled so I can reset to something more challenging.  I really need to be alone right now, with something I can hit."

*******

     [19 April, Age 850.  Toki Toki City.]  

"I think she doesn't like me," 44 said after they returned to the PQ station.   Luffa had already taken off in the time machine to embark on a more difficult mission.  

"Nah," Dewar said.   "She's just under a lot of stress, kiddo.  I'm in research and you're a clerk.  The biggest problem we gotta deal with is a papercut, but she's out there tackling the real trouble.  Super Saiyan or not, it takes a toll!"

"I hope you're right," 44 said.  

"Don't worry," Dewar said.  "It's not like she's gonna take a poke at you or anything.   If Luffa were the type to fly off the handle like that, she would have done it to me a long time ago!"

"I hope you're right.  I just... want her to like me," 44 said.  

Dewar waved his tail sympathetically as he put his arm around her shoulder.  "Hey hey hey," he said, "it's all right.   Once you get to know her better, you'll see she's a real sweetheart.  I should know!"

"How?" 44 asked.

Dewar proudly pointed his thumb at his chest.  "Welllll, I happen to be a pretty good judge of character," he said. "You learn what makes folks tick when you study history, and when you've spent as much time around people as I have, you can start to tell these things.   Luffa's not the hothead she comes across as.   Trust me!"

As he finished speaking, one of the PQ Time Machines suddenly blinked into view.   It descended onto the platform and the blue canopy began to open.   Luffa jumped out as soon as the opening was wide enough for her to fit through, and she stormed through the crowd with a murderous look on her face.    

"Where is he?!"  Luffa growled.  "He's going to answer for this!"

"Er, problem, Luffa?" Dewar asked as she walked up to him.   The only answer she gave was to shove him to one side so she could keep going on her way.  

"Something must have gone wrong in one of the PQ's she was using," 44 suggested, but she said this only after Luffa had walked far enough past them that 44 was reasonably sure she would be out of earshot.  

"I guess so, but she was only gone a few minutes!" Dewar said.   "What could have set her off so quickly?!"

*******

"She's still alive!"

Luffa had found the one she was looking for on the baseball diamond in Toki Toki City's residential zone.  The field lacked even the most modest accommodations that players were used to.   The dugouts were simply a pair of benches positioned just beyond the foul lines.  But for those passionate about the game, it made no difference.  Big League Chew was such an individual.  

"Something wrong, Ace?" he asked as Luffa stormed onto the field.  

"I sensed someone on Planet Namek!" Luffa shouted.  "Trunks told me you were the most qualified to investigate it, and you found nothing!"  

"Oh, that," he said.   "Real sorry that didn't work out the way you hoped."

He was big, even by the standards of male Majins.  Big League Chew looked a great deal like his famous ancestor, the fat version of Majin Buu.  Except he was purple instead of pink, and even taller and rounder.  He also wore a purple baseball uniform at all times.   The only other colors he wore were on the red-green-and-yellow cap that shaded his eyes.  It was a memento of his extraordinary career with the West City Taitans ball club.   And Luffa did not care about any of this.  

"You blew it!" Luffa said.  She was now close enough to stand directly in front of him, though she was too short to poke him in the chest like she would have normally done in such a confrontation.   Instead, she jabbed her finger at his belt buckle as she glared up at him.  

"Say what?" Big League Chew asked.   "Ma'am we went over that time frame at least a dozen times.   And not just me.  We're not perfect-- nobody bats a thousand-- but we're not exactly Bush league, either.   Your friend wasn't on Namek that day."

"But she was on Earth a decade later!" Luffa.   "I know because I sensed the same familiar ki when I went through the Parallel Quests involving Majin Buu!"

"Is that what this is about?" Big League Chew asked.   "Listen, I know there's a lot of Majins giving you the Bronx Cheer for fighting Kid Buu the way you did.  Truth is, I feel a little choked up about it myself, but I know what it's like.  I was on the lineup that day when Lefty Wallace pitched his last game.   He was on-track for a no-hitter, a perfect game to cap off a brilliant career.   But when I went to bat, the ball sailed right into my wheelhouse.  For a split second, I thought about whiffing it, but I couldn't do it.  Lefty Wallace deserved my best, and that was what I gave him.  I hit a triple, and the crowd wasn't too happy about it.  For a few weeks, my self-respect was all I had--urk!"

Luffa had levitated up to the height of his head and she grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.  "Shut.  Up!" she said.  "Listen to me.   Keda somehow ended up on Namek.   I don't know how you missed her, but she was there.   From what I hear, she would have been teleported to Earth right before it exploded.  She must have laid low there, but while I was in the PQ, I sensed her energy again."

"Where? When?" Big League Chew asked.  

"Somewhere near West City," Luffa said.   "The day Babidi and Majin Buu were going to destroy it.   That's all I could sort out before the time fragment ended.  There's so many people on Earth that I can't get a good fix on her location.   And the whole Majin Buu thing was a distraction, so that only made things harder.   But then I remembered you, and how Trunks said you were so skilled at tracking people down."

"Shoot, Ace, if you wanted my help, you should have just asked," Big League Chew said.   He had only been momentarily surprised by Luffa grabbing him, but now he had fully regained his cool composure.   "Thing is, if I struck out before, what makes you think I can find this girl now?"

"Because this time, we're going to do it together," Luffa said.   "I'll keep Majin Buu off your back, and you can sniff out her exact location."

He thought this over for a moment and smirked in approval.  "Shoot.   It just might work.   I know West City, and it's starting to sound like this kid of yours only shows herself when you're around.  You can flush her out, and I can step in to clean up."

"I'm glad you approve," Luffa said.  "Because we start now."

*******

     [7 May, Age 850.  Earth.]  

"Majin Buu, what are you waiting for?  Finish her off, now!"

For all of his wicked magic, the Evil Wizard Babidi was nothing more than a spectator for the battle between Buu and Luffa.   She had no idea where Goku or the rest of the Earth's defenders were supposed to be, but it didn't particularly matter. This was only a fragment of time, and the people who existed within it were of no great consequence.  Luffa wasn't fighting Majin Buu to defend anyone, or to preserve the timeline.   She wasn't even doing it as a training exercise, although that end was achieved all the same.

The purpose of this battle was to produce enough ki to get Keda's attention, assuming she really was somewhere on Earth to be found.   The last two times Luffa had sensed Keda, it had been while she was using her Super Saiyan form.   Keda was the type to keep as low a profile as possible.  When Big League Chew and the other Time Patrollers had searched for her on Namek, Keda might have suppressed her energy, because she didn't want to risk being discovered by unknown aliens.   But Luffa's power represented something Keda might trust, and if Keda sensed Luffa fighting Frieza or Majin Buu, that would definitely get her attention.  

This particular fragment was only seven minutes in duration.   Luffa's plan was to raise her power as high as she could go and to fight Majin Buu as aggressively as possible.  Majin Buu's strategy, on the other hand, was to kill anyone who got in his way.  

"Mean lady really strong!" Buu squealed, "but not as strong as Buu is!"

"How are we doing?!" Luffa called out.   She was speaking into the communicator hidden in her left ear.   This confused Babidi, who kept demanding to know to whom she was speaking, but she had no intention of explaining it to him.  

"Struck out again, Ace.  I lost her," came the reply from Big League Chew.  

"Dammit, we may have scared her off!" Luffa said.   "She can sense your power too, and if she senses a Majin coming, she might think it's another enemy working for Babidi."

"Should we reset the mission, Ace?  Try again?"

"Not yet," Luffa said.   She was fistfighting Buu in close quarters while she spoke.  At first, she had been reluctant to try this, due to Buu's great size and his fluid body structure.   And yet, she had managed to frustrate him this way, as he seemed to lack experience in melee attacks.

"You no beat Buu!" he squealed.  

He was right, of course.  Luffa was stronger than she had been during her first battle with this version of Majin Buu, but even if she could defeat him, she doubted she could finish him off before the PQ mission ran out of time.   And yet, Keda was sure to hide her power as long as Buu remained a threat.  

As Luffa considered the dilemma, Buu's voluminous gut suddenly spread out and enveloped her.  

"Brilliant move, Majin Buu!" cheered Babidi, who was hovering at a safe distance from the fight.   "Crush the life right out of her!"

Luffa threw up her elbows over her head, and pushed back against the Majin flesh that now pressed against her from all sides.  The pressure was manageable, but she could tell that he was only enjoying the moment before he began to bear down on her with his full power.  

Resetting the mission, as Big League Chew had suggested, would be useless.  They would just have to face the same problem all over again.  

Ignoring Buu was no answer either.  With no one to stop him, he would destroy West City long before they could locate Keda.

It seemed like the only answer was for Luffa to search West City while Big League Chew held Buu off, except that would be even more difficult than what they were already doing.   Her senses weren't as sharp as his, so it would take longer to find Keda, and Big League Chew simply didn't have the strength to last in a battle like this.  

And then, just as Buu's body had collapsed around her completely, cutting off what little air she had left, Luffa suddenly knew what to do.  

She erupted out of Majin Buu's stomach like golden magma  blasting out of a volcano.  

"No!   Majin Buu!  What has she done to you?!" Babidi cried.    

Luffa didn't waste time looking back to see.   If she had done any damage to Buu at all, he would pull himself back together in no time.   Instead, she moved away from them, and closer to West City.    

"I've got to shoot you down, Chew!" Luffa said.   "Prepare yourself!"

"Run that by me again, Ace?" Big League Chew replied.

"Keda thinks you're a hostile, and we don't have time to convince her you're not!" Luffa said.  "But if I attack you, and you suppress your power, she'll think you've been neutralized!"

"Don't see how beaning me helps us steal a base," Big League Chew said.  

"Because I'm going to shoot you down right over the city," Luffa explained.  "You'll seem to be falling, but you'll actually be landing as close as you can to wherever you sensed Keda before.    At that range, you should be able to pinpoint her, right?"

"Sure, Ace, if she stops suppressing her ki," Big League Chew said.   "But if she balks..."

"Don't worry about that," Luffa said.  "She'll power up again once she senses me winning.  She wants me to find her, she just doesn't want to give away her position to the enemy.  Now get ready!  I'll try to be gentle, but I have to make this look good!"

"You're in the nosebleed section, Ace," Big League Chew said.  "How're you gonna tag me from all the way over there?"

Luffa might have made a confident rejoinder to him, but Majin Buu had already recuperated and was preparing to attack her again.    Luffa kept her back to him until the last possible moment, and she his giant yellow mitts were just inches away from her head...

...She let herself drop, allowing him to pass by her.   In the moment of confusion, she flew back up to his level, then raised her index and middle fingers and swung her arm out at the back of Buu's head.  

With a furious scream, she fired, sending a crimson ki blast straight through Buu's head and into the horizon beyond.   Without delay, she pressed her assault on Buu, punching his back while Buu's arms flailed around his damaged head.  

A moment later, she sensed a sudden drop in ki from West City, and she heard a yelp from her earpiece communicator.  

"Th-that's some fastball..." Big League Chew gasped.

"Majin Buu, what are you doing?!" Babidi screamed.   "Stop fooling around this instant and do something nasty to this young lady, do you hear me?!"

Luffa continued battering Majin Buu, and as she did, she began to yell.   Her power level increased, rising higher and higher as she continued to press her attack.  It was a theatrical gesture more than a true strategy.  It would take long minutes to defeat an opponent like Majin Buu, which meant that she would need to conserve her energy instead of making a grandstand play.   But Keda didn't know any of this, and Luffa only needed to make it look like she was winning.  

"You're finished, Buu!" Luffa shouted.   It was a lie, but it helped her get in the spirit of the deception.   At the very least, fighting him at this intensity would make for an interesting exercise.   As her fist pounded against his pink, rubbery flesh, she noticed the impressions left by her knuckles were getting deeper and deeper.  Buu did nothing to counter, but that was typical for this version of the creature.  He always let his opponent run wild before turning the tables on them.   Even as she pummeled Buu, Luffa was mentally preparing herself for the payback he would dish out.  

And then, Majin Buu suddenly decided he'd taken all he could stand.   With a high-pitched "hmmph!" he tensed his entire body, repairing what little damage Luffa had done to it, and knocking her away like an errant crumb on his vest.   The look on his face was so grim and spiteful that Luffa wondered if he was about to transform into one of his more sinister forms.

"You make me mad," Buu seethed.  "Big power."

If looks could kill, Luffa would have already been dead in that moment.   As it was, she backed off and raised her arms over her face, expecting the worst.    

What followed was something she could only describe as "an explosive wave, but pink."  For a moment, Luffa simply tumbled through the blast like a leaf in a hurricane, but the ki she used to protect herself held fast.   When Buu's fury subsided, she was surprised to find herself relatively unharmed.  

The rest of the Earth, however, seemed to be a different story.   There had once been green terrain and blue waters below them.    Now, there was only exposed bedrock, and veins of glowing orange where magma threatened to rise up between the cracks in the scarred landscape.  

Not far away, Majin Buu still floated in the air.    He looked much happier now, having vented his frustrations.    Luffa could find no sign of Babidi.   If Buu had spared any concern for his master's safety, there was no way to be sure.  

"You still alive?" Majin Buu called to her.   "Wow, you strong.   More fun for Buu!"

Luffa set her teeth as she reached out with her senses.   She was reasonably confident that she could hold out against Majin Buu for a while longer, but she wasn't sure if there was anything left of West City to protect.   And then, just as she found a great emptiness where a large Earthling population had once been...

*******

...Suddenly, she found herself standing next to Big League Chew, at the same spot where they had left the time machine they had used to get there.   Majin Buu was gone, and the destruction he had wrought was undone.  

"What happened?" Luffa asked.  

"We struck out," Big League Chew said.   He pointed in the direction of West City, then gestured in the other direction, where Luffa could sense Majin Buu's immense ki, rapidly approaching.    "Whatever he did a minute ago, it wiped out the whole town, so we failed the mission.   Time Machine automatically reset us back at the start, Ace."

"Yes, I gathered that," Luffa said testily.   "I meant what happened on your end?   Did you find her?"

"Came real close," Big League Chew said.   "Your pal raised her ki again, just like you said she would, but I needed to get closer, and I couldn't get there quick enough without raising my own power."  He placed his right arm over his left shoulder and grunted.    "And that beanball of yours didn't do me any favors.   You really are a headhunter, y'know?"

"Sorry," Luffa said.   It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that she could see the results of her attack, it only shamed her to caused such harm to an ally.   "I owe you one, Chew."

"Not yet, you don't," Big League Chew said with a shrug of his good shoulder.   "I'm a little sore, but that doesn't mean I can't throw.   We can try this a couple more times, and we're sure to pull this one out in extra innings."

"No, it's no good," Luffa said.   "We've established she's here, and that's something, but even if knew exactly where to go, it doesn't do any good to contact her in this time fragment.   And I don't know how to convince the Supreme Kai of Time to let me take a time machine to the actual West City of Age 774.  She won't let us do anything that will alter the past, so until I work that out, it's not worth putting you through all that pain."

Big League Chew looked out at the horizon.  Majin Buu hadn't flown into view yet, but he soon would.   He moved his jaw a few times, then spit out the gum he had in his mouth.  

"Think you might be right, Ace," he finally said.   "Squeeze play isn't the way to go, but that doesn't mean we can't try something else..."

"You've got an idea?" Luffa asked.

*******

     [19 April, Age 850.   Earth.]  

The house was one of the older Capsule Corp models from the previous century.  Some of the siding was worn or covered in moss, and the garden surrounding it seemed to threaten to overrun the entire property, but the lawn ornaments were relatively new, and the mailbox flag was pointing up, and a modest air-car sat parked in the driveway.  

Luffa and Big League Chew stood on the sidewalk that ran alongside the yard.  It was an idyllic suburban scene.   Nearby, children were playing a game of street hockey, and a man was repairing a grill in his garage.   No one paid much attention to the Saiyan and Majin.   Neither species was an unusual sight on the Earth in this era, but the two Time Patrollers had also taken the precaution of wearing disguises to be even less conspicuous.  

"Gotta keep a low profile," Big League Chew had said before they left Toki Toki City.   "This is my native era, and I played for the West City Taitans until recently.  Someone might bug us for autographs."

Luffa trusted his judgment, but she didn't care much for the denim jackets and baseball caps he had picked out for the trip.  They drew a few curious stares from the neighborhood, but no one recognized or suspected them, which she took as a good sign.  

"So this is the place," Luffa said quietly as she gestured to the house.

"No doubt about it," Big League Chew assured her.   "I remember this area from the mission.  After you shot me down..."  He pointed his massive thumb over his shoulder,  "...I ended up just on the other side of those houses there.   I sensed her, but I didn't have time to get a good fix.    But they kept good records back in '74, and the pencil jockeys back at the Time Patrol are first string.   All we had to do was cross-reference all the census records for this neighborhood."  

Luffa nodded.   They had checked and double-checked their research before coming to this place.  She already knew it was the right address.  All they had needed was a place to start looking, and the rest had come together quite easily.   Keda might have made the search more difficult by using an alias, but she hadn't bothered.   After all, she had been stranded on this strange planet, centuries in her future.   She never would have expected anyone to recognize her name.  Even better, she had stayed in the same house long after the Majin Buu crisis.  

"'S'matter, Ace?" Big League Chew asked.   "We're here.   We already cleared it with the Supreme Kai of Time.   Trips to the past are fouls, but nothing in the rulebook says you can't visit Earth in the present.   You can walk right in and see your buddy whenever you want."

Luffa swallowed hard.   "That's not what I was trying to accomplish," she said.   "I wanted to prove that she was on Earth, that she got stuck here somehow, and that we needed to send her back home.  If what those recordkeepers found out is true, she would have shown up around 763 or so.   But now it's 850, and she'd have to be..."

As Luffa did the math in her head, she heard a latch click from the house.  There was a creak as the door swung open, and then a voice...

"Come on outside, and I'll show you the tomatoes.   They're really growing up fast."

Several seconds later an old woman stepped out, accompanied by a pair of small children.    Once they were clear of the doorway, Luffa noticed a third child, a little girl, standing hesitantly at the threshold.   The old woman looked back and waved to her.  

"Well come on," she called out.    "Don't you want to see the tomatoes?"

The girl smiled meekly and shook her head.  

"You don't?   Well suit yourself.   We're gonna look at the garden."

She continued on her way with the other children, a boy and another girl, and led them through the rows of plants that took up most of the yard.   There seemed to be no particular rhyme or reason to the tour.   The old woman would stop occasionally to point out something trivial, or to gently ask the children not to play in the loamy soil.   Eventually, the girl in the doorway finally decided to join the others.   If any of them noticed Luffa and Big League Chew watching them, they did not show it.  

"Is that her?" Big League Chew asked Luffa quietly.   "I mean, she looks old enough."

"I'm not sure," Luffa said.  Keda was a shapeshifter, which had surely helped her infiltrate Earthling society.  Assuming her Dorlun powers worked as well as they did when Luffa last saw her, then Keda could have looked like anyone.   The old woman, one of the children, or the man fixing the grill on the other side of the street.  There was no way to be completely certain, and yet, according to the records, the house did belong to a woman named Keda, age ninety-nine.  

"What are those, Mammaw Keda?" asked the older girl.

"Oh, that's loofah, dear."  

Luffa had to stifle a gasp when she heard the word.    For a moment, she thought the old woman had noticed her, but they never looked in her direction.    Instead, the old woman simply gestured at a row of vines growing alongside the west wall of the house.  They clung to a wooden frame that had been build onto the carport.  Lengths of twine and wires were wrapped around each vine to support it.  Several long, green fruits hung from the vines, which the old woman showed off to the children.  

"They're not quite ready to be picked," she said.   "Honestly, I don't have much use for the taste anyway."

"Then why do you grow them?" the older girl asked.  

The old woman smiled gently at her.   "Oh, I like the challenge, I suppose.   It's not easy to grow these things at my age, or in this climate.   And they remind me of someone I knew when I was a little girl."

"You were a little girl, Mammaw?"

She chuckled softly and patted the child on the head.   "Well of course I was.  But it was a very long time ago..."

Luffa tapped Big League Chew on the arm.   "We need to get out of here," she said.

"What's wrong, Ace?"  

"Nothing," Luffa said.   "I just... We need to go.  Now."

"But you didn't even go talk to her--"

"Come on," Luffa snarled, and she took him by the hand and led him away.   Once they had found a secluded spot, they took off into the air, and Big League Chew followed her back to the time machine that had brought them here from Toki Toki City.  

"I don't get it, Ace," he said.   "We went to all that trouble to find her, and you didn't even say hello.   Not that big a deal, I guess.   You can always come back tomorrow, but it seems kind of funny to stop just short of home plate."

Luffa didn't answer him.   She didn't know what to say, or how to feel.   It had all been so simple to her before.   The problem had seemed like an abstraction.   An eleven year old girl was thought to be dead, only to turn up alive and lost in time.   But the woman she had just seen, who had settled down on the Earth, started a family, and lived most of her life there...

Luffa had no idea how to respond to that.  She didn't know what to think, or how to explain it to Big League Chew, or anyone else.   And so she simply flew back to the time machine, and let the onrushing wind dry the tears that were now running down her face.

 NEXT: Partycrasher.

[aellynera]

Accidental Anniversary (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

ACCIDENTAL ANNIVERSARY

💜💘 Happy Valentine’s Fic Exchange, @samrockweil​ 💘💜

I am your Valentine’s elf (or maybe cupid?) It was an absolute blast writing this for you!! At first I couldn’t decide which guy to write for, but Llewyn spoke to me and I ran with it and I hope you love it even half as half as much as I did writing it. Happy reading and happy beeps!

Also, huge thanks to @sergeantkane​ for putting this fic exchange together! Love you Clarke!

Word Count: around 8k oops look i had a whole MONTH okay i’m not sorry

Summary: You meet Llewyn Davis one night at the Gaslight, and soon find out that the universe has an odd sense of humor and an even weirder sense of timing.

Warnings: A few curses. Nothing else, it’s 99.999999999% fluffy fluff.

March 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a whiskey, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as your boss flips the power on.

You’ve been working there for a couple weeks, a side job to help make your rent and keep you busy on the weekends. It’s not a terrible gig, most of the time; the patrons are pleasant enough, the performers hit or miss, and Pappi, your boss, is okayish, so long as you can mostly steer clear of him.

You begin to wipe down part of the bar while the next performer sets up on the small, dingy stage. You haven’t seen him before, but whispers from the stools at the counter hint he’s semi-popular around these parts. You quirk an eyebrow; he certainly is easy on the eyes, at least.

From the minute he takes the stage, your focus is ninety percent on him (you do need a little brain power to do your job, after all) and you find that he is also very easy on the ears. Dark curls, dark beard, dark eyes, dark clothes, but a surprisingly bright voice singing lovely songs. He finishes his set, comes off the stage, and sidles up to the bar. You hand him the requested bourbon with a soft smile.

And the next thing you know, Pappi is on the ground and this stranger is holding his hand, wincing, flexing his fingers. Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “What--”

“Jesus Christ, Llewyn,” Pappi groans from the floor. “I was only kidding.”

“Yeah, doubt that,” this Llewyn person mutters under his breath, taking a seat on the stool closest to him. “Can I bother you for some ice?”

You keep a wary eye on him, and on Pappi as he gets up and wanders to the other side of the room like nothing happened, and wrap some ice cubes in a towel and hand it to him. “You decked him.”

He scoffs and takes a sip of his drink. “You hear what he said about you?”

Well, no, you hadn’t actually, but having heard what Pappi has said about others in the club over the past two weeks, you can imagine. “I can handle him,” you say archly.

“I’m sure you can,” a huff of air escapes his lips, “but you shouldn’t have to.” He turns around to look at Pappi, who just glares and shakes his head. The man in front of you flips your boss off.

You refill his glass without him asking and stick out your hand, telling him your name.

He shakes it and says, “Llewyn Davis” with a sheepish smile.

April 14

Llewyn shuffles down the sidewalk towards the Gaslight, really only noticing the early spring chill that hangs in the air. It’s early, before noon, but he wants to run through his set before the night’s performance and the early hour is convenient for him to be able to do so in peace.

He’s about a block away when a sound distracts him. A voice is singing, pure and sweet - if a tiny bit off-key - and if he didn’t know any better - and he certainly does, at least most times - he would call it angelic. No, not angelic. An actual angel. That’s what it sounds like.

Llewyn stops and looks up at an open window on the third floor. He can make out the vague outline of a figure inside, but he’s unable to see any details. But that voice. A few minutes pass as he just listens, staring up at the window, thinking about calling up to get the attention of the mysterious singer. But he doesn’t, and he just stands and listens, until he finds his feet starting to carry him on to his usual destination. 

Three steps into his walk, he realizes he knows the song. It’s one of his songs. Part of him can’t believe it, and the rest of him wants to offer pitch correction. Three more steps into his walk, and his face makes very solid, very resounding contact with the light pole on the corner.

“God dammit,” he shouts.

A few seconds later, the window on the third floor slides open and a head pokes out. “Oh my god. Llewyn?”

Llewyn looks up and groans inwardly as he recognizes your face from that last gig at the Gaslight. “Hey,” he waves awkwardly, leaning on the pole.

“Are you bleeding?” you call down to him.

He reaches up near his eyebrow and realizes he is, in fact, bleeding. Quite a bit, honestly. Before he can answer, you call back down, “Come up the fire escape to the side window!” The window drops shut and he can hear another slide open.

So Llewyn Davis climbs the fire escape steps and meets you at your side window, a first aid kit in your hands as you motion for him to sit. He does and you start to patch up his wound.

“You should be more careful,” you mutter as you worked, stopping briefly to look him right in the eyes.

He holds your gaze. “Sorry, I was...distracted.”

“Mmm,” you return. You fold a gauze pad and hand it to him. “Hold this on that cut. I’m going to get you some ice.” You turn to walk to your kitchen.

He mumbles his thanks and leans his head back against the fire escape railing.

May 14

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and although Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, he takes up a spot at the end of the bar and thanks you as you pass him a drink.

“How have you been?” you ask. You’d seen him a few times over the past couple weeks, here and there in the Village, but it’s been several days. You found Llewyn’s company quite enjoyable. You’d talked a bit and even shared lunch once at the diner a couple blocks away.

His lips turn up, a shy smile lighting his face. He opens his mouth to respond, when another voice breaks in.

“He’s been an asshole.”

Llewyn’s head ships around and you follow his gaze. A slender woman with long, straight brown hair and piercing eyes stands about ten feet behind him, arms crossed and glaring. Neither of them says anything for a beat, Llewyn turns away from her, and then she’s on him, daggers flying from her lips, going on and on about assholes and responsibility and electrical tape.

Llewyn keeps his eyes down, the bottom of his glass suddenly staring back at him. “Jesus Christ, Jean.”

You bite your lip as you glance between them. You have no idea who this woman - this Jean - is, but it’s clear she is not a fan of Llewyn Davis. In three seconds flat you decide you do not like her either.

“Is there something you needed?” you break in.

Her eyes flare at Llewyn, then at you, then bore into the back of Llewyn’s head. You resist the urge to literally toss a glass of whiskey in her direction.

“I need Llewyn to stop being an asshole,” she seethes. Llewyn rolls his eyes.

You arch an eyebrow and the words are on your tongue - I need you to back off, you crazy weird bit-- you bite your tongue just hard enough to make your mouth behave. Fortunately, she’s distracted by someone else calling her name and her attention drifts to the stage. With a final mutter of “asshole” and a rude hand gesture, she flounces off.

You point over Llewyn’s shoulder. “Um, what was that?”

He snorts. “A night of bad decisions and a lifetime of regret.” A pause. “It’s...a long story.”

You watch as she adjusts the microphone center stage. “Good lord, is she a singer? Tell me she’s not going to just smile and sing after...whatever that was.”

“Yeah. Well,” he offers by way of explanation and doesn’t say anything else. It’s almost like this woman sucked all the fight out of him and you feel your heart give a little twinge.

You toss the rag in the sink and take his glass. “Do you wanna get out of here?” The air around you has a weird vibe now, and you felt a sudden impulse to get out and take this man - your friend - with you, away from this...whatever she was, somewhere safe.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, a grateful glimmer passing through his dark eyes.

“There’s a great cafe down the block.”

“But don’t you have to...you know...work?”

You look around and shrug. “It’s dead in here, and Bobby can handle it,” you hook your thumb at a co-worker behind the bar. “And if Pappi says anything, I know someone who can set him straight.”

Llewyn’s eyes glint and his lips turn up in a real, honest smile this time. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee.”

June 14

The summer - or very last days of spring, technically - is starting to get hot and your open windows are doing the bare minimum to alleviate the warmth. Of course, the third glass of wine you’re drinking probably isn’t helping things either.

Whatever. It’s your day off.

Shoes kicked off, jeans rolled up above your ankles, feet up on the arm of the couch, a record on the turntable and your glass of red as the dusk slowly melts into dark. The night is tranquil and relaxing and perfect. It has been a shitty week, and all you want is to ignore the outside world and do exactly this.

The shrill ring of your phone bursts that bubble..

You close your eyes and tilt your head back on the couch. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away. The phone stops ringing. Deciding to take no further chances, you switch off the ringer, completely, then sigh happily, settling yourself on the couch and sipping your wine.

Perfect.

A resounding, repeated thump echoes through the room. You bit back a shriek. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away - lightning can strike twice, right? It was extremely rude of people to just call you and knock when all you wanted was--

“Hey, are you home?” a muffled voice comes from the other side of the door.

Suddenly alert and somehow much less annoyed, you spring up and cross to your front door. Yanking it open, you find a very disheveled Llewyn Davis on the other side. He doesn’t seem to notice right away that the door was now open, and you had to jump back as his hand, raised to pound on the door again, almost knocks you in the head instead.

You take a deep breath. You catch a waft like the mat under the taps after a long night at the bar.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” You take him by the arm and drag him inside, appraising him quickly. His eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, his curls an absolute mess, and there’s a dark mark under his left eye and a split in his lip. He looks terrible, smells just as bad, but suddenly all your desire for a quiet, no-other-humans night evaporates. “And did you get in a fight?”

“...yes?”

You sigh and point to the couch. “Go. Sit. I’ll make some coffee, and then you’re getting a shower..”

“You’re incredible,” he slurs, smiling, “And you’re so…I tried t’call you, from th’phone on the corner but you dinnt answer. An’ then I realized, hey, I’m on your corner, so decided t’come up and see you. You’re pretty.”

You take him by the elbow and lead him to the couch, only stumbling twice and managing to catch him as he sways, precariously, once. “Uh huh,” you bite your lip to hide a smile. “Sounds like you’ve had a fun night. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” He flops down on the couch and buries his face in a pillow.

By the time you make the promised pot of coffee and get back to the living room, Llewyn is snoring, still face down in the throw pillow. Turning off the music and the lights, you cover him with a blanket and take your glass of wine to your room.

July 14

Ring, ring, ring.

You’d remembered to turn the ringer back on three days after Llewyn slept it off on your couch, but your phone hadn’t actually rung again until just over half an hour ago, and honestly you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or if it was just sad.

You are sure, however, that the sheer desperation in the voice on the other end when you answered is the reason you’re on this train to Queens. Are you doing anything, Llewyn had asked, because I could really, really use some help right now. Please, I’m begging you. And now the echo of your phone ringing just, well, rings in your ears.

The train screeches to a halt and you exit, making your way to the given address. You knock on the door of a smallish, nondescript row house and it swings open almost immediately, revealing a very disheveled, slightly panicked looking Llewyn.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes and grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

“Llewyn? What is going on?”

“It’s a disaster,” he says. He’s completely serious.

You’re preparing yourself for blood, broken bones, water damage, collapsed ceilings, possible dismemberment, anything, really, that could explain your friend’s current frazzled condition. What you get is completely, unexpectedly, not anything like that.

There are about ten kids, all around ten years old, running around in the living room, which is also full of balloons and streamers. One giant pinata, shaped like a baseball glove and bat, hangs from the light fixture. To Llewyn’s credit, it is kind of...chaotic, but it’s far from a disaster and you can barely contain the guffaw that escapes your lungs.

“Whose birthday?” you grin at him.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

You consider this and try to straighten your lips. Nope, not working. “It’s a little funny.”

Llewyn smacks you lightly on the shoulder. “It’s my nephew’s birthday, and my sister forgot some party thing and made a run to the store. I was stayin’ here last night and she just decided, oh, Llewyn can watch the kids, and she was gone.”

“So what’s the problem, exactly?”

“She should be back by now,” his eyes look slightly panicked.

“Maybe she had to go to a couple stores? Maybe she just got delayed by transit?”

“I can’t do…” Llewyn gestures around weakly, shaking his head. “This.”

“Llewyn, they’re kids. They can’t be more than what, ten years old? Just blindfold them and let them whack at the pinata.”

“You’re the people person. I can’t...can you help me, please,” he turns to look at you. Directly at you. You’re fairly certain his eyes cannot get any bigger or shine more pleadingly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s go wrangle some kids.”

The panic slides from his face and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder and kisses the top of your head in his thanks.

And when one kid takes a wild swing at that tacky papier-mache sports equipment, misses completely, and lands a clean hit on Llewyn’s thigh, neither of you talk about it.

You just get him an ice pack.

August 14

“I’m making lasagna. Come over for dinner.”

You worked early that day, and said this to Llewyn as you left the Gaslight for the day. He isn’t playing tonight, and he’s really just here to stay out of the sun, and as much as he doesn’t like to push his luck with others’ hospitality, he has to admit that a home-cooked meal does sound incredible.

He has a feeling your invitation was partly due to Jean showing up, ready to do unnecessary verbal battle because she just can’t let it go, and you’d asked to both deflect her and keep yourself from actual physical battle. But whatever.

So he finds himself at your front door a couple hours later, a bottle of cheapish red wine in hand and an odd tingle in his chest. He dismisses it offhand; he’s probably just hungry.

You open the door and Llewyn’s nose is assaulted by the smell of homemade sauce - he’s half Italian, he knows these things - and cheese and garlic. You smile brightly at him. Yeah, he’s definitely hungry.

“Hey! Come in, it’s almost ready.”

He hands you the bottle. “Brought wine.”

“Excellent,” you lead him to the kitchen table and motion to a seat. He settles himself into it and grabs a piece of bread from the basket on the table as you grab two wine glasses.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks around a mouthful of carbs.

The timer dings and you pull the lasagna out of the oven. “No occasion. I just felt like making this and I didn’t really want to eat alone.”

“Lucky for you I like to eat,” he chuckles.

Your face suddenly feels warmer. Well, you did just pull a piping hot casserole dish out of the oven, so that does make sense, you suppose. You turn and put the lasagna on the trivet in the middle of the table, then turn and grab two regular glasses for water. There is an outlandish, metallic ka-chunk-ing noise as you turn on the tap, and suddenly water is shooting from under the sink and halfway across the room.

Llewyn jumps up and dives at the faucet, a chunk of bread clutched between his teeth, at the same time you crawl halfway under the sink to try and shut the water off. The stream blasts you in the face and you sputter.

This is not how you imagined tonight. Blasted ancient, rickety building. You make a mental note to have words with the super tomorrow.

You finally get the water shut off, and Llewyn closes the tap and sinks down onto the wet floor next to you. You lean against the cabinets and try to wipe the water out of your eyes.

Llewyn fares a little better; he’s only wet from his waist down. Your head thumps back on the soaked particle board behind you and you turn your head towards him. For a long moment he looks back at you, then rips the butt off the hunk of baguette in his mouth and passes it to you.

You snort. He bites his lip.

“Sorry, I think dinner might be a bit late,” you deadpan, eyes still on him, and take a bite of bread.

He bumps your shoulder with his. “It’s okay. Lasagna is always better the next day.”

Llewyn has to admit, though, it’s still pretty good a couple hours later, after you’re both dry and the lake in the kitchen is mopped up and you settle on the couch with your plates.

And if you use the water glasses for the wine, well, neither of you mentions it.

September 14

It’s pleasantly warm today, the heat of late August dragging itself into the beginning of September, and you find yourself in Washington Square Park, on a checkered blanket, a basket in the middle and a guitar by your feet. Pigeons wander and plot to steal food, but it’s easy enough to shoo them away.

It takes a little convincing, early that morning, to get Llewyn to agree to join you. It didn’t, really; he’s quickly become one of your best friends, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to be, he just likes to tease you.

But he does accept, and you eat some of the bread and cheese you packed and drink the iced tea you brought, and you get out a container of fruit salad and package of cookies your down-the-hall neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, made for you that morning.

“For you and your lovely man,” she’d said as she knocked on your door. You feel the warmth in the tips of your ears and you certainly see the color rise in Llewyn’s embarrassed face, but you don’t have the heart to correct her. She’s such a sweet old lady.

Llewyn plays a song or two while you enjoy your lunch, and even asks if you want to hear a new song he’s been working on, which you are more than happy to agree to.

It’s such a pleasant afternoon.

Until a small, brownish-gray blur jumps onto the blanket and grabs a chunk of bread and darts further onto the lawn.

“What the hell!’ Llewyn shouts as you yelp in surprise. The squirrel, for its part, just stops fifty feet away and turns back with a triumphant gaze, then scoots off into the bushes, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in its wake.

He starts to make a comment about the nerve of the wildlife, but you’re not really listening. Your eyes are fixed on the path the squirrel just ran and you tug on Llewyn’s sleeve. He keeps muttering and you tug harder.

“Llewyn.”

He finally looks up and follows your finger. There’s a flock - an honest-to-god flock, not that he has any real idea on the technical makeup of a flock, but there’s more than one so as far as he’s concerned, yeah, it’s a flock - of geese marching directly at the blanket.

Okay, so there’s only three of them. But they look angry.

The leader strides forward deliberately and bites at Llewyn’s shoe. Another yelp leaves your lips and he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet. He also grabs the remainder of the bread and tosses it in the opposite direction as he takes off running towards the fountain, dragging you behind him.

“Where are we going?” you shout.

“No idea,” he replies. The leader falls for the bread feint, but his loyal minions do not, and they follow behind you, quacking and honking and flapping and Llewyn isn’t sure but he may dislike geese even more than he dislikes pigeons.

He jumps up on the edge of the fountain and pulls you into a protective embrace as the beasts close in. Only Llewyn doesn’t account for, you know, physics, and the force of your bodies colliding sends you both straight into the water.

Spluttering, you try to wipe the water out of your eyes. Llewyn is doing the same when a loud HONK startles you both. The leader is back, flanked by his friends, and they’re all staring at you.

“Um, Llewyn?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“...don’t geese like, love the water?”

His eyes flick to you, then the winged monsters, then you again, then the fountain like he’s seeing it for the first time and all he can do is mutter, “Shit!” and grab your hand as he pulls you to your feet and takes off running again.

You manage to swing by and gather the leavings of your picnic, blanket and basket tucked under your arms and his precious guitar clutched to him, as you beeline out of the park, soaking wet and laughing.

October 14

Llewyn slides the key into the lock and turns it, an odd flutter rolling up his spine as he hears the bolt click open. He’s had a key to your apartment for almost two months now. You gave it to him, insisted really, telling him this way he wouldn’t need to worry about finding somewhere to crash. That your couch is always open.

It still doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t always use it, but tonight he really, really doesn’t feel like making the rounds. You’ve been spending more time together recently anyway, and he feels mostly comfortable around you.

He’s greeted by the sight of you wearing a catcher’s mask and knee high rubber boots, and you’re wielding a tennis racquet. He doesn’t know what to say for a full minute.

“What are you...why are you wearing...what the hell.”

“There’s a bat,” is your whispered response.

Llewyn’s nose scrunches and he isn’t any less confused than he was a second ago. “What?”

“There’s a bat,’ you repeat. Your voice is slightly on the edge of hysteria because, well, “there is a bat. In the bathroom.”

“...okay?”

You jab your finger at the closed door. “I was just going to wash my face and brush my teeth and I went in there and it was just...in the corner, by the shelves. It was staring at me.”

He bites his lip, trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging on his face. It isn’t working. He drops to a whisper himself and asks, “Baby, why are you whispering?”

Your head jerks towards the bathroom, and your shrug nearly sends the tennis racquet into his shoulder. “Because that’s how they...they’re...how they do the...the bat hearing thing!”

Llewyn laughs fully. He can’t help it; you’re ridiculous and his face heats a bit as he realizes it’s entirely endearing. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says, his voice sliding back to a whisper. He avoids your death glare as he makes his way to the bathroom door. “But sit tight, slugger, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Hand on the doorknob, he pauses and considers this. “Just gonna encourage it to go home? I dunno.”

Your grip tightens on the racquet. “How will that work?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a fucking bat!” he hisses at you. “Just, make sure a window is open.” He opens the bathroom door.

Several things happen at once. Llewyn doesn’t so much open the door as he flings it wide and it slams into the wall. The bat makes a squeaky-shrieky noise (you were entirely unaware, until now, that they could even do that) and swoops out, recklessly streaking through Llewyn’s mess of curls. You make an actual shriek and fling the side window open as wide as possible. Llewyn makes a sound he can’t describe and you’re honestly not sure if it was Llewyn or the bat. The bat decides to take a few laps around the living room and you duck under the window sill just before it mercifully decides that outside is the place to be. Llewyn slams the window shut and you spring back to your feet, crash into his chest and his arms wrap around you.

Neither of you say anything, and Llewyn isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s very aware of your hand running through his hair, and your soft words catching as you say you’re just trying to smooth out the bat damage.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, I’ll keep watch out here, make sure that thing doesn’t come back,” he jokes. “You okay?”

You finally - finally, he cheers internally - take off the catcher’s mask and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m...good. Thanks for...thanks.”

Llewyn lets you go and takes the tennis racquet out of your hands, placing it next to the couch. He throws you a soft smile. “Just in case.”

November 14

It’s been a long night at work, a lot longer than it has any right to be and infinitely insufferable. The Gaslight is packed, patrons nearly crawling the walls and not an empty seat to be found. Drink orders stack up and you try to keep up. It’s so crazy that even Pappi doesn’t have a chance to be a smartass like usual.

Apparently it always gets like this, closer to a holiday.

Note to self - skip holidays.

There are two acts tonight. Llewyn is first, and it’s clear much of the crowd is here to catch him. It cheers you slightly, and it would certainly cheer you more if you had the time to pay more attention to him, but the constant call for whiskey and gin takes most of your focus. But for the time he’s on stage, your heart feels lighter.

Then the second act takes the stage, and Jean launches eye missiles at Llewyn from behind the microphone, and your mood sours instantly.

Yeah, it’s a very long night.

Everything is blurry for the rest of the evening, until last call mercifully rolls around and you can finally get to straightening out the mess the bar has become. You notice Llewyn still sitting on his usual stool at the end of the counter, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Don’t even say it,” you point at him sternly. “When will you stop fussing about this?” Ridiculous man. He has a key to your apartment, and still he worries that he’s an inconvenience.

You toss an orange slice at him, and he allows you a sweet grin.

Finally - finally - you’re home and Llewyn follows you inside, locking the door behind you. He heads for the couch and you head for your room, a mumbled g’night the only word that passes between you. You’re far too exhausted to deal with anything higher level.

It could be minutes or it could be hours later - your alarm clock somehow ended up on the floor and the darkish sky outside giving nothing away, and when did it start raining anyway - when a loud SPRONG and then a yelp and a THUMP from the living room jolts you awake.

It takes a few seconds to regain your senses. “Llewyn?”

“Fuck.”

You stumble out to the living room to find him half-sitting, half-sprawled on the floor, the quilt he normally uses tangled around his knees and ankles. He rubs a spot on his lower back and winces.

“Llewyn! What happened?” you cry.

He points to the middle cushion and you see something sticking up from the padding.

“Oh, Llewyn, jesus. I’m so sorry,” you apologize. You really do feel terrible; your couch hasn’t been in the best shape for ages, and it looks like the squeaky spring you noticed a few weeks ago finally gave up and poked it way through. And stabbed Llewyn in the back as he slept. Damn it. 

“It’s...it’s fine,” he tells you, still wincing. “I can turn the other way, or sleep on the floor. Not a big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes big deal. My couch just stabbed you, and it’s cold outside, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“S’fine. Not the first time I ended up on the floor.”

You make up your mind before you even think about it and reach your hand out to him. “Come on,” you wiggle your fingers. “Come to bed.”

Llewyn’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to protest, but your look is so firm that he relents with a soft sigh and extricates himself from the blanket. He follows you to the bedroom and asks, no less than seven times, if you’re sure this is okay and says he really has no problem sleeping on the floor. You eventually tell him to shut the hell up and get under the covers.

You both lay on your sides, facing each other, but keep a space between you. Llewyn still looks mildly uneasy but relaxes as you smile at him and the warmth of your duvet and the softness of your pillows pull him under.

“Good night again, Llewyn,” you whisper.

“Good night again,” he replies with a soft yawn.

The rain steadily patters on your window and the sky slowly lightens as morning breaks and you languidly wake, curled into Llewyn’s chest, his arms secure around you.

December 14

Snow falls lightly outside, coats the grass and sticks to Llewyn’s curls, and his breath swirls and makes curlicues in the chill winter air. It’s two weeks until Christmas, and you decide to put up a tree, a real tree, and you tell him he’s going to help decorate it.

You also tell him that a bunch of your light strings have stopped working, and before you can ask him to run to the shop down the block that sells replacements, he volunteers and is out the door.

He can’t remember the last time he was anywhere with a real tree. It was usually those cheap-looking fake ones, the green plastic branches a color that would never exist naturally, if there were any tree at all.

So yeah, maybe he’s a little excited. He comes up the steps to the apartment, a bag perched in the crook of his elbow as he unlocks the door.

“So I got the lights, like you asked,” he says cheerfully, and sets the bag down on the table by the door.

“Help.” That’s...not the response he’s expecting.

It’s two weeks since the entire living room has been rearranged. The new, non-back-stabbing couch is on the opposite wall. You rearranged all your shelves, got a new armchair, and much to Llewyn’s wary delight and bewilderment, a new side table. The side table has blank sheet music and pens and there’s a guitar stand next to it and he doesn’t really know what to make of it. You just smile and tell him he needs a space to be himself, whatever that means.

The newly-opened space under the window is where the tree is going. Or, should be going. Llewyn looks down at the toppled fir and sees a foot sticking out near the trunk.

“Sweetheart? What happened?”

Your voice answers from beneath the branches. “Can you just help get this off me, please?”

Llewyn rights the tree and turns his head to check on you. He’s more concerned about you than the tree, of course, but he wants to make sure it doesn’t take you out again so he secures it to the stand as he takes you in. Thankfully you look fine, a few needles stuck to your sweater and a tiny scratch on your cheek, but otherwise…

He tries to stifle a laugh. “You’re looking very festive.”

Your eyes narrow. “Go ahead and ask,” you bite out, “because I know you’re going to ask.”

“I already did ask, before I had to be your lumberjack.”

You refrain from telling him that lumberjacks fell trees, not upright them. Whatever. You motion your head to the shiny silver tinsel wrapped around your torso. You can’t use your hands, really, and you’re not sure how they got tied up in this mess, exactly, but here you are, sitting on your living room floor in a pile of pine needles, trussed like a Christmas goose in sparking silver twine.

And your best friend is laughing at you. Jerk.

“I was trying to get this around the top part, and I lost my balance. Then like an idiot I tried to catch myself on the tree, and the whole damn thing went down with me,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how the rest of this tangled mess happened.”

He does laugh now, full and rich. “I was only gone for like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, can you maybe...untie me?”

“Oh! Wait, here, I got something else,” Llewyn jumps to his feet. He ignores your request and pokes around in the shopping bag.

“If it’s not chocolate, I don’t want to hear about it,” your grumbled response brings another laugh.

Llewyn’s back in front of you seconds later, holding a small white cluster above your head. The grin on his face is equally charming and infuriating.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you blink at him.

“I mean, I was just gonna, y’know, hang it above the door later and let it happen, but now seems like a better time for some Christmas cheer.”

“I think you’re pretty satisfyingly cheerful right now, idiot.”

He waves the mistletoe over your heads. “Come on. It’s tradition.”

One day, maybe you’ll be able to stop sighing in his presence, but today is not that day. You sigh again, roll your eyes, and lean in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and delighting in the shade of crimson he turns in response. He clears his throat and places the mistletoe to the side.

“Now will you untie me?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

He does, and helps you get the tinsel where it’s supposed to go and you spend the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and drinking hot cider.

Llewyn sings you more than one Christmas song to make up for all the teasing.

January 14

It seems like a good idea at the time. One of your friends at your actual day-to-day job offers to set you up with another coworker, and it’s been ages since you went on a date and you figure, why not? What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out the answer is, a lot. A lot can go wrong. So much that you don’t even want to think about it.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. There is no chemistry, no spark, just an hours-long recitation of how your date is god’s gift to pretty much everything under the sun and possibly also the moon. The name-drops are just the cherry on top.

Maybe your first impression isn’t wrong after all.

You trudge up to your apartment, the bag of your favorite takeout under your arm filled to nearly bursting, and get the door open. All you want to do is stuff your face and maybe take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine. Yes, that sounds perfect.

The melody of a strumming guitar stops as you place the bag on the side table and shimmy out of your coat. The lamp in the corner is the only illumination and you tilt your head towards the armchair’s occupant. You’re surprised that he’s there, but only because he was supposed to be somewhere else tonight. Knowing he wouldn’t be around was at least...half the reason you agreed to this stupid date in the first place.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?” Llewyn asks in a low voice through the dim light.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing at the Gaslight tonight?” you retort, brow raised.

He shrugs. “Might have had a few too many an’ said some things. Might’ve gotten thrown out.”

“Mmm,” you appraise him. He just looks the same way you feel; ridiculously tired. Exhausted. “Might’ve told my date I had to use the restroom but… maybe didn’t mention I meant the one at my house.”

“That bad?” Despite his snort, Llewyn sounds genuinely curious.

You sigh as you flop down on the couch and hold up the takeout bag. “I’d rather not talk about it. You wanna help me eat this?”

In an instant he’s on the couch next to you and you hand him some plastic utensils and a napkin. You get up and grab two beers. For a while you just focus on eating, passing containers back and forth with occasional comments about the food. Your knees bump sometimes as you each reach for different containers or your drinks.

“So what happened?”

You stab a piece of chicken a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. It was a stupid idea to go on a blind date.”

“Kind of a stupid idea to go on a date at all,” Llewyn replies softly.

“What.” It’s not really a question. You definitely don’t mean it as a question and you vaguely think about throwing an egg roll at him but that would be an honest waste of decent takeout.

“I know what the problem is,” he continues in a normal voice. “It’s the fourteenth.”

You look at him with a raised brow. He has an odd look on his face and you wait a beat before asking, “Okay? And?”

Llewyn also waits a beat before replying and points at you with his fork, a green bean stabbed on the end. You lean forward and pluck it off with your teeth. He needs a moment to clear his throat before he can go on. “It’s the fourteenth,” he repeats. “Don’t know if you noticed, but...well..weird things seem to keep happening. On the fourteenth. Of every month.”

“Huh.” He’s right, now that you think about it. You stab your food again. “What do you think that means?”

Llewyn looks like he wants to say something, like he’s going to say something, but instead he just shrugs. You put the container down and lean back on the couch, swinging your feet into Llewyn’s lap. 

He idly strokes your ankles as his expression grows serious. “I think it means we should not go out on any fourteenths, ever. Just to be safe.”

You poke him with your big toe. “You’re an idiot. There are things that can happen inside. There are things that have happened inside.”

A smirk creeps through his beard. “Shit, you’re right. One-a your crappy novels might fall off the shelf and crack me on the skull.” He pauses. “More run-ins with wildlife? Oh! I know. Squirrels, but this time, in the walls.”

“That’s not funny!” you try to poke him again and dissolve into giggles as he tickles your foot. Your combined laughter ricochets off the living room walls before dissipating back into silence.

This time, you’re clearing your throat before being able to continue. “It’s been a day. I’m gonna go take a hot bath.” You get up and walk down the hall to the bathroom.

“Please don’t fall asleep in the tub!” he calls after you. “Don’t forget what day it is.”

Idiot.

After your bath, you head to the bedroom and find Llewyn passed out on top of the covers. He has a key, and he stays over far more often than not nowadays, and even though he’s been told numerous times since the broken couch that it’s okay if he’d rather sleep in a bed, you don’t mind sharing, he rarely takes you up on that offer. Okay, so this is the first time since the broken couch that he’s even sort of taken up the offer.

It’s been a weird day.

You grab a quilt and curl up on the other side of the bed, pulling it over both of you and snuggling down into your pillow. 

“I wonder what happens on the next fourteenth,” you yawn mutter into the darkness of the room.

You’re asleep, so you can’t notice that Llewyn isn’t, really, and he rolls to face away from you and whispers, “Yeah, me too.”

February 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a straight bourbon, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as Pappi flips the power on.

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, and he hasn’t shown up yet, which is strange.

Another thing that’s strange? This weird feeling of déjà vu.  Whatever, you’ve been working more nights at the club recently, and they’re all starting to blend together.

“Your friend’s out back,” Pappi’s voice breaks into your thoughts as he sidles up to the bar and leans back on it.

“My friend?” you ask, confused.

Pappi shrugs. “Said he was a friend of yours. Dark curly hair, worn corduroy jacket, always looks tired or pissed off or both.”

Your expression doesn’t change. “Wait, why is...did he get the crap kicked out of him again?”

“Nah,” Pappi shakes his head. “At least, maybe not yet. Anyway, I dunno, he just asked me to tell you he was outside. I don’t know what the hell he’s up to.” He nods his head towards the back exit and turns to tend to the bar.

Strange.

You duck your head out the door and glance up and down the alley. You see nothing except the usual debris; trash containers, the dumpster, the rusty drain pipes that run down from the gutters, weathered fire escapes. Something skitters off at the far end and disappears between the buildings. Was that a raccoon?

You snort a laugh as you recall Llewyn’s jab about wildlife run-ins. It would be something that happens, in a dark alley behind a basket house in Greenwich Village on the fourteenth of…

Oh. It is the fourteenth.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from the head of the alley.

Llewyn stands there, leaning against the brick, dark curls and worn corduroy and all. He holds a single yellow rose in his hands. He looks incredibly nervous, enough to match you looking incredibly confused.

You step fully outside and the door clicks shut behind you. “Hi?”

“Uhm, this is for you,” he says, awkwardly holding the rose out. “Saw a guy selling ‘em a few blocks down, thought you might like it.”

“Thank you? But what’s the occasion?” Why is everything coming out as a question? Even that.

He bites his lip. “You don’t know what today is?”

“Yeah, it’s the four---” Oh. Oh. 

“You wanna get out of here? Have dinner with me, maybe?” Llewyn rubs the back of his neck. It’s a nervous habit you’ve seen him done countless times, usually when he’s thinking about something serious and… Oh.

You twirl the rose in your fingertips and don’t quite meet his eyes. “I thought you said maybe we shouldn’t go out any fourteenths.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well. Um, I don’t know if you also noticed, along with this whole fourteenth business, but I...I really like spending time with you, just hanging out with you, and...I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid, but I thought maybe we could, y’know, have a non-weird fourteenth day of the month for a change.”

He’s rambling and it’s adorable. You hum softly. “...on Valentine’s Day.”

Llewyn’s hands twitch in his pockets. “Well...yeah. I mean, I like spending time with you, but...I also like you. So why not?”

He has a point. And really, now that one of you has said it out loud, you really can’t deny it. All the time spent together, all the shared meals and drinks and late-night talks on the couch and letting him basically move into your apartment...it’s no secret, you realize, it never really was, how close you’ve become over the past many months. How easy it is with him. How natural it is.

All the times he helped you. All the times you helped him. All the times you were together, just being.

The fourteenth of the month be damned.

You pretend to think about it for a little longer than necessary as Llewyn watches you anxiously. “Well, I do have to work, you know.”

“I already asked your boss,” he shakes his head, “and he was more than willing to agree. Something about not getting a black eye on your behalf tonight.”

Your laugh rings out into the street. “But it is the fourteenth. What if one of us gets food poisoning or chokes on dessert or something?”

“Vomit doesn’t bother me and I know the Heimlich,” he smirks. “And I’m already asking you out in a dark alley in the Village, how much weirder can it get?”

“You make a fair point, Llewyn Davis.”

He extends an elbow and a hopeful smile.

If he notices, as he brushes his lips on your knuckles as you take his offered arm, that your breath catches and your heart rate increases, he doesn’t let on.

But later that night, as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck and asks you what you want to do on the next fourteenth, well, Llewyn Davis definitely notices then.

~end~

[writingsbychlo]

put her together again (prologue)

word count; 2398

summary; while in the field, mitch encounters a hostile force who almost takes him out, and accidentally finds himself tangled up in something far more advanced than he’d ever imagined.

notes; this is the prologue to a new series, and it’s a pretty dark one. there will also be a lot of triggering themes, so watch out for that!

warnings; violence, slight gore, reference to torture, death, reference to mental & emotions abuse, possible suicidal references, reference to self harm, reference to branding, reference to brainwashing & manipulation.

Mitch would be dead, if it hadn't been for the quick thinking of Stan. Another agent in the field was unexpected, a target that had training that far exceeded his own, he really stood no chance. Up against him or Stan, even both of them together, she would have come out on top. 

Whoever the girl was, she was one hell of a fighter. 

With his hands on his knees, he lifted one to brush at his forehead, wincing at the blood along his hairline as the cut stung, and he wiped the back of his hand across it, red smearing his skin and the cool air sweeping across it for only a second, before he was feeling blood begin to build up along the gash once again. With a sigh, he searched around for his gun, one that had been knocked from his hand only a minute into the fight, and he located it sitting under some knocked over tables in front of a little street coffee shop. The roads were empty now, not even the honking of horns or screaming of civilians, the man you’d been protecting having achieved in his mission of setting off a bomb, and he glared at you as he clicked the safety off and checked it to be loaded. 

Holding up the weapon, he aimed it at your head, feeling zero remorse as he closed his finger over the trigger, squeezing down and releasing the bullet, only a second after fingers had wrapped around his own and jolted his aim to the side, the metal pinging off of the cobblestone walkway as it cracked the tile it landed on, clattering away across the quarter. 

With a growl, he spun to face the man, his mentor fixing him with an equally stern and hard gaze as it had always been, especially in the first few weeks that he’d been in his training, all that time ago. “She helped kill people today, Stan. She was going to kill us.”

“We aren’t executioners. We take her back with us, we get information out of her.” He snatched his hand back from the man, grunting an agreement before clicking it back to safety and tucking the device into the back of his pants. “You know as well as I do that she was a hired gun. She was protecting him, so much so that she was willing to die at your hand to let him get away. I want to know who hired her, she’s our lead.”

He knew it made sense, it was perfectly logical, but he hated the way you were cooperative in this, he hated that the woman at his feet had allowed such things to happen, and he fought hard to suppress the wild anger he had worked so hard to learn to contain and control back down. Instead, he spat out the blood in his mouth with a grimace, stepping over you to walk back towards the car and making sure to drag his foot across your body to plant a rough kick into your ribs, not that you reacted in your unconscious state, but it made him feel a little better. 

Instead, he did as he was told, opening the trunk of the car and fishing around in the toolkit for the duct tape before making room to stuff you inside a minute or two from now, and he looked at the bullet holes along the side of the vehicle, rolling his eyes with an angry huff. He wasn’t exactly gentle, your arms behind you back and sealed up tightly before attaching you ankles together too, and sealing one over your mouth for good measure, should you wake up on the journey to the safe house. 

By the time he had you loaded into the back of the car and fastened in, Stan was already sitting in the driver’s seat, the engine running as he waited, and the second he was within the car, it was starting up and peeling away from the scene, calling Irene to explain the situation. He didn’t bother to listen in, barely perking up to add his input, before he was resting his head back against the window, the adrenaline coming down and revealing to him just how much his body ached all over. 

He was sore and covered in cuts and bruises, he could already feel it under his clothes, every rub of the fabric against somewhere that was pained, and he couldn't wait to get into the shower, dismissing Irene alongside Hurley from the second they’d arrived at the isolated little home. You were still unconscious when he opened the back of the car up, much to his relief because he knew wasn’t feeling like starting another fight as you resisted, and slung your body over his shoulder to carry you inside, taking the tape with him. Stan had a chair set up, in the middle of the room read for you, and he tossed Stan the roll of tape once you were slumped into it, before making a beeline to the bathroom and calling the first shower.

He barely hesitated, only pausing to grab a change of clothes from his bag, before finding himself switching on the hot water, and peeling his clothes off of his body, stepping under before steam has even begun to fog the mirrors. A groan bubbled up from him before he could stop it, sounding out in the bathroom as the tension immediately soothed just from the hot water, body practically melting into the tub as he eased himself of the aches, and he had to force himself not to fall asleep in the comfortable heat and relaxation. 

Instead, he busied himself with scrubbing down; blood, dirt and grime washing away into the drain as he watched it go, scrubbing a hand through his hair and the colour only darkened as it washed away. The cuts would sting each time he got soap or hot water within them, but once the runoff was going clear instead of red and grey, he was beginning to see where he was grazed and cut, and where he was simply beginning to bruise. He knew he couldn't stay too long, using up all the hot water before Stan had a chance to get in, and as tempted as he was in the will for amusement purposes to leave the older man to shower in the freezing cold, he wasn’t that cruel.

He towelled himself down, and pulled on his boxers, finding the cream from bruises and ointment for his cuts, making sure to take care of himself and place gauze over the worse once, before finally pulling on sweats and a fresh t-shirt, scrubbing at the longer strands of his hair and making a note to get another haircut, before stepping back out into the main room. 

“Leave me some hot water?” He smirked, the thought he’d once had flashing across his mind once again, but he nodded as Stan scooped up a towel and change of clothing for himself. “Good, I won’t be as long as you were, princess, but if she wakes up while I’m in there, just knock on the door.”

He sneered in the older man’s direction, but let him go, and the door closed, leaving him alone with the woman in the chair. He was certain Stan would have already followed all of the formalities, but he decided it wouldn't hurt for him to check you over himself, and so he made sure to pat you down with what he could reach, checking for anything that you could use to escape or fight back. He even checked your hands, and under your tongue, no hidden razor blades or sharp objects, and he eventually deemed you to be okay. Pulling up his one chair, he set it backwards, straddling the seat and resting his arms over it, balancing his chin atop them, before staring at you intently. 

He didn’t like you, but you were a mystery. No matter how many time she had insulted you or goaded you, you’d never once spoken back. You didn’t fall for the temptation to lash out with words like every other person he’d fought had, and you didn’t have the same sinister flash of pure evil in your eyes that he was s used to seeing. There was no hatred, malice or anger when you fought, only determination, but your eyes had been blank as you worked, as though you were simply working, nothing in the situation being of any gain to you.

Stan came out of the bathroom, steam curling out of the doorway as he did, and Mitch turned to offer him a quick look, catching the raised brow he received in response, and letting his thoughts flow freely from him.

“Don’t you think she’s a little odd?”

“What do you mean?” Stan was leaning on the edge of the counter that connected them to the kitchen, and he rubbed a hand over his mouth, before crossing his arms. 

“She didn’t react. I looked into her eyes, there was nothing. Nothing. No anger or hate or pure joy at killing, it was like there was nobody in there. A robot, not a person. It was more terrifying than facing someone who took pleasure in killing.” He sighed, both of them snapping up to look at your from the first twitch of your leg, a foot sounding out across the carpet. 

“Guess we’re about to get some answers. Maybe that’ll put you at ease.”

He huffed doubting it would do anything other than anger him further, but your eyes were opening to look at them both. He expected fear, a sudden jolt as you tried to free yourself, looking around for escape exits and a way to get free. Maybe some glaring, growling out curses under the tape and making a show of trying to seem defensive, but you didn’t.

Instead, you took a single deep breath, keeping your gaze fixed on the carpet before you as your hands flexed out behind your back, cracking your knuckles and stretching your muscles, but then falling flat, and you almost seemed o relax into the chair, slumping your body weight over it but wincing when you pressed against something that must’ve hurt. 

He shared a look with Stan, his confusion only growing, but Stan shrugged a little, before flipping out the blade on his pocketknife, and moving towards you, the scare tactics beginning, but you never even flinched. Not when he peeled the tape from your mouth, not when he pressed the blade to your shoulder with the threat of pushing it through. Threats didn’t work, shouting didn’t work, it didn’t even work when Mitch had filled the tub with cold water and held you over it in a threat of dropping you within, and still, you were unmoving. 

They had thought through every option they could to get their answers, without ever physically harming you, and do Stan had decided to resort to mind games. He filled up a glass of water at the sink upon watching you swallow down thickly on what he assumed to be a dry throat for the fourth time within the last minute, and he made sure to make a show of preparing it. He clinked a spoon against the edge of the glass once, taking his time in preparing it, before bringing it out to you and offering it up to your lips, an almost friendly smile on his lips. 

You leaned in, taking a large gulp of the water without hesitation, drinking down almost half of the glass, much to both of their surprises, and his eyes widened when Mitch turned to him.

“She didn’t even smell it for traces, or taste test. She doesn’t care.”

They were just regrouping for a discussion when you finally spoke up, the sharp intake of breath making their heads snap back toward you, and your eyes were glued on Mitch’s own, a cold and empty gaze that sent a shover rocking along his spine, and goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“Units must not return without assignment success.” His brows furrowed, jaw dropping a little as he turned to face you more fully, and he frowned when you didn’t speak up again, but he gave you a chance, your tongue flicking out to lick over a busted lip as you tried to clear your throat. “Termination in the field, or termination at base. You must terminate the unit.”

“Oh, fucking hell.”

“What? This gibberish mean something to you?” When he looked back at his superior, the man was a little paler, eyes wide like saucers and jaw hanging wide, and Mitch had never seen this look on a man’s face before. “Hurley?”

Instead of responding, he moved to crouch in front of you, holding your gaze intently. “What is the name of your company?”

“Unit cannot comply with your request.”

He let out a ragged sigh, flicking out the blade once again and Mitch got to his feet quickly, fearing that Stan may actually gut you like a fish in his anger, but he circled behind you, cutting away the material of your shirt around your neck and letting out a loud shout at what he found. Stumbling over his own feet to get a look, he found a tattoo, branded into your skin with a symbol he didn’t recognise, but it would seem Stan did.

“I heard rumours from the higher-ups, notes on previous cases as eye witness results, but it always just seemed like a myth.” He seemed almost shocked, and Mitch has no idea what was going on, but he felt like he was drowning in the thoughts flying through his mind, his head pounding with all the new information he was processing. 

“Does that mean something?”

“Yeah, it does.” 

“And what are we supposed to do with her, then?” Stan let out a groan, and you shifted a little when the seat jolted as the older man kicked at the chair leg angrily, but you never looked back at them, your expression never shifting from the same haunting emptiness you’d held continually since he’d first laid eyes on you.

“Call Irene, tell her we have a Nocturnus agent in play, and that she’s alive.”