#X ⁞ those who do good things get commended for it | credit

[admirxation]

Actress / Leon Kennedy oneshot

boyfriends dad!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader

summary: your boyfriend has brought you home to meet his father, but it turns to a non conventional meeting when your boyfriend goes to sleep.

cw: this fic contains cheating, I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, please read the warnings and continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), cheating, kissing, touching, tit grabbing, grinding, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, degrading, unprotected sex (p in v), and creampie.

word count: 2.8k

thank you @valslullaby for this idea, my fellow older man lover, please check their fics as well they’re so good

When you told people you were going to college, the description and the idea of college tended to be romanticised, further enticing you to the whole ‘college experience.’ These conversations usually involved older people looking back on those former years through rose-tinted glasses and appreciating the simpler times, wanting to regress to that time when troubles weren’t as hard, where your biggest stress was getting an assignment in last minute compared to getting the rent due and food on the table for you and the whole family. The conversation tended to have them blissfully remembering how much they could drink and how they could handle the hangovers back then, remembering how easy it was to make friends in the same class as you and all they could do now was focus on a good credit score and getting on the property ladder.

But the conversation of college didn’t just come with remembering the good times; it came with some advice, some embarrassing advice you didn’t want to hear about—the sex talk. When you accepted your dream college's offer, the “be safe” talk was constantly repeated; you remembered how you wanted time to quicken and have the conversation end every time it started. You understood that they just wanted to keep you safe; after all, you would rather them tell you what to avoid than just outright forbid and have you get into some serious trouble—but who in their right mind wants to want to discuss their sex life with their parents?

The conversation consisted of the basics you already knew: you can say no anytime (obviously), make sure he uses a condom, watch how much you drink and who you’re going home with, the usual safety many people knew and practised. However, while you remembered it all in exact order to recite, you never thought you needed to use it when you entered the dorms since you didn’t have much luck when it came to your love life. That was until you met him—your current boyfriend.

You two were in the same class, him sitting next to you; it started with him acting stupid and you sharing your notes, compliments on how smart you are, later going to the same afterschool study sessions, then getting closer with every day that went past. At first, you didn’t think too much of it, thinking this would be a casual relationship that would end in the first semester, but then you started seeing each other more frequently; he was even buying you countless gifts that made you wonder what in the hell he was doing to afford it all. Then it turned to him meeting your parents; you tried not to admit it to yourself, but you wished that they wouldn’t like him, hoping to use it as an excuse to end things, but alas, they loved and approved of him, commending you for your “great taste” in picking a partner. You just smiled and hugged him that night as he gushed about his excitement about what they thought, but all you could think when nestled on his chest was: I’m forever stuck.

He was lovely and a nice enough guy, but something about him was off, maybe a touch of immaturity, not having much in common or just an outright lack of interest. Continuing your cowardly streak, you agreed to meet his father, wishing things would pick up after his first meeting.

The days rushed by when it came to driving back to his place, and you received constant text messages from your parents reminding you to be polite and make a good impression. A part of you was thinking about pretending to be rude and unlikeable, but you couldn’t bear someone thinking of you like this, especially an adult, after being raised to respect your elders, like most people.

You were quiet for the whole car ride, not sharing a single word, hoping he would perhaps disapprove of you—a girl could wish to get the easy way out.

As you two approached the front door, you heard heavy footsteps come closer and the clicking sound of a door unlocking. Later, you were in Mr. Kennedy’s gaze. You gave him a warm smile, watching his eyes widen as he quickly looked you up and down.

“Ah, it’s lovely to finally meet the mystery girl my son can’t shut up about,” he said, seeing your boyfriend roll his eyes in embarrassment as he entered his house. “Come in, come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you showed him respect.

“Oh, no need for formalities, just call me Leon… Mr. Kennedy makes me sound so old; I don’t need the reminder of how the years have slipped by,” you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words; you never imagined his father to be like this, the way he described him didn’t fit the current person you were greeted with. Your boyfriend described how much he looked up to him, how he was his whole world and that he would trust his instincts; if he disliked something, he would dislike it; if he loved something, he would try his best to find a love for it. At first, you found it ridiculous how much he needed Daddy’s approval; you even told him he ought to just make his own thoughts. But standing there in his presence, you could understand; he had a gentle and subtle touch of influence in his stance, but also an overwhelming quality about him that made you want to follow his will.

Another thing you couldn’t deny was how attractive Leon was. You expected some normal military dad who was such a bore, but you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the attractive older man.

For the whole night, Leon made you feel welcome, helping you with your bags and asking you for any refreshments you would like; your boyfriend mentioned how he hadn’t seen him so happy and eager for years; it must have been the presence of a lady, you thought. You forgot about the desire to have him dislike you; you even thought of continuing to ignore those feelings as nervousness in the relationship, but at the moment, you were so invested in everything Leon was doing and saying to you—you couldn’t describe the feeling he had over you.

As the night wore on, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes get heavier, but you were still wide awake as your conversations with Leon continued at the same pace as in the early afternoon, all the way to the late evening.

“I think I’m going to bed now; I’ll see you tomorrow,” your boyfriend gently kissed your cheek, automatically reciprocating it as he trudged upstairs back into his room, hearing the heavy door click into place.

Your heartbeat picked up when you noticed it was just you and Leon in the same room. You thought about all those thoughts you had when you first saw him, how you analysed his stature, how you looked at how his biceps filled the sleeves of his shirt, trailing down to his hands and how he used them in his manner of speech.

Whatever junk was playing on the television went on for a few minutes after your boyfriend had gone to sleep, and you noticed how Leon leaned back in his chair and listened carefully toward the bottom of the stairs, trying to hear if your boyfriend had gone to sleep already.

“He’s a fast sleeper,” you tried to break the silence. “I’m quite jealous of people who can hit the pillow and sleep -” You weren’t expecting to be cut off.

“Hmm,” a smirk played at the corner of his lips, making your curiosity peak. “You know, you’re a very good actress.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I know you don’t love him, gods, that kiss was pathetic… I know you don’t want to kiss in front of his old man, but that kiss was… plain… Does he really eat this shit up?” You were shocked how he saw through your facade; no one, not even your friends, who thought they knew you better than anyone, could see your true feelings. You felt anxious, like a cold spike that hung around your heart, that sensation in your chest; you were nervous about how he looked through, but in a way, relieved? Relieved that someone could finally see how you were walking on eggshells in your so-called ‘serious relationship.’

You sighed: “I’m sorry… Sir… I didn’t —”

“…Just because I’ve seen through your little act doesn’t mean I think of you differently.”

“Why? I’m kind of wasting your son's time,” you paused for a moment, “I didn’t mean for it to go as far; I just wanted something casual, and I—”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart, I don’t need to hear the excuse… I always knew… He showed me pictures of you… I was shocked he wasn’t making it up; in all honesty. A very pretty girl I thought, and I’m glad my theory was right.”

“You’re going to tell him when he wakes up?” you wanted to be prepared for when he would take the news, trying to talk to yourself and make sure you came clean until you heard Leon’s next words that curated a shake into your core.

“No, I think he can find out when he uses his brain… But I will say, this information does make me happy.” Your eyebrow peaked in interest, and you wondered what he meant. “It makes me feel less guilty.”

“For what?”

“Don’t play coy… I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” you blushed as you swished your head to avoid eye contact, your heart thumping like an animal in a cage the moment you heard and felt him get closer, sneaking into the cushioned seat right next to you, placing his fingers on your chin and turning you to face him, “Don’t be shy now. I have to say I was excited to see that beautiful girl in the pictures; I’m quite glad she’s right in front of me now.”

“I, I, don’t think we-”

“Oh, now you’re a good person?” he teased with a taunting tone in his voice, slowly leaning back, “If you want me to stop, I will… just say the word, dear,” he tilted his head to the side, showing you he was hearing out for a ‘no’.

You couldn’t deny how much you were curious about what he was thinking. You were ashamed but also wanted to indulge in how Leon thought about you. You bit the bottom of your lip softly, slightly licking your lips as you briefly thought about what you were doing. You thought about the implications of cheating on your partner, for a little bit of fun, especially with his father, but that part of you couldn’t care about the right thing as you had Leon staring at you.

“Fine, I’ll —”

“No, wait… I don’t want you to stop,” you say in one breathless sentence.

“Hm,” he leaned in closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he brought you to his lips, “Just tell me when you wanna stop, darling,” he said as he pressed his lips onto yours for a moment, “and don’t worry… I’ll keep your little secret. For now.”

Your heartbeat continued to beat quickly, and you felt your blood rush through your body as you closed your eyes and got lost in his kiss; your lips brushed and glided against one another, and his tongue slid slightly in your mouth and smoothed over and around your tongue. You softly moaned into the kiss as your began to lose yourself even more, your fingers trickling through his blonde hair, feeling yourself drift into the experience as he pulled you closer as he placed his hand on your lower back and collided his body against yours, your arms wrapped around him as he slithered up to your chest.

His hand rose to breast, squeezing the mound that drew soft and whispered moans, continuing to meld into your soft plush as he continued to kiss you through your tender sighs; you instinctively moved your leg around his, making invitation for Leon for push you further into the sofa, not breaking from the countless interlocks and sensual touching. You felt him grind along your clothed pussy, feeling his growing bulge along your cores heat, pushing and rubbing against you as he continued to sway his hips forward and grind into your pussy that was already getting wetter the more the kiss and touches deepened.

He moved from your breast, grinding his index finger on your already hardened nipple, smirking at you not wearing a bra: “hm, you come prepared,” he said as you left a final strong squeeze and continued to graze down your torso, slithering to your core and lifting your dress up, placing a collective of his fingers along the wet patch of your underwear.

“You’re already soaked, you dirty girl,” he whispered in you ear, before leaving a subtle nibble on your earlobe that drew a deeper breath from your lips, arching your back into him as he continued to rub along your covered clit, squirming as his fingers went in perfect circular motions.

“Mm, fuck,” you moaned in a whispered hush, biting your lip as Leon stared at your core, no longer being able to wait as he wrapped his fingers underneath the waistband and travelled the material down your hips, staring at your glistening wet cunt as he discarded the cloth onto the floor, lost in thought as he proceeded to touch your heat, feeling how wet you were the more he circled along the bundle of nerves, your puffy clit stimulated more and leaving you to try your best to keep hushed tones.

“You’re such a beautiful girl,” he whispered to you, then proceeding to place his hand over your mouth, “now try to be quiet darling… we have a secret to maintain.”

He pushed his index and middle finger inside your wet hole, creating a catalyst for your widened eyes and drawing in air for a deep gasp as you felt his long fingers penetrate inside of your walls, feeling him pump in and out, using his thumb to press along your needy clit; your eyes rolled to the back of your head, exposing the whites and seeing a blurred vision as your walls tightened around his fingers, making his cock grow harder against his pants.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he expressed as he continued to pump his fingers, licking his lips as he felt and heard how wet you were, “and all because of me… easy to please a slut.”

Your breathing hitched into a tremble as he poked the right spots, a tingling sensation within you as you closed your eyes and got lost in his expertise before he slowly took away your excitement, feeling your hole flutter from neglect as you stared at him licking his fingers: “you’re a sweet treat,” he complimented as he wrapped his fingers around his trousers and glided them off, seeing his large member and feeling it slap against your pussy.

“Do you want this?” he asked as he positioned himself to your entrance.At first you nodded to which he replied: “be a good girl and use your words, or I’ll leave you squirming.”

“Yes… I w-want you, p-please L-“

“You can call me sir now.”

“P-please Sir. I need you.”

“Good girl.”

He slotted his length to slide into your aching hole, pressing the head of his cock against your walls before hitting the cervix with his tip; “god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he swayed his hips as he continued to fuck you.

Saliva collected at the corners of your lips, as your body swayed up and down as Leon pressed his hands into gripping your waist, pounding his length inside you and you trying your best not to scream out; oxygen felt scarce the more you gasped in need for him.

“Shh, shh, shh, try to keep that pretty mouth quiet darling,” he cooed as he continued to rock forcefully inside you, feeling a wave inside you about to erupt in motions.

Your eyelids fluttered as your walls spasmed around Leon’s large cock, feeling his balls slap against your ass, him lifting your legs around his neck to get deeper and bruising your delicate cervix even more.

Your blood rushed through your veins all at once, as you released a muffled and large orgasm trapped by his hand over your mouth, feeling your stomach coil up into a knot as you released and made a mess all over Leon; but he didn’t care, as he continued to push further and deeper as he watched your tits bounce to the rhythmic thrusts he gave to you.

Before you could recover from your orgasm, feeling your cunt continue to pulsate, you felt Leon’s movement quicken into rougher grinds; as your moans got more laboured and strenuous you felt him drape your walls with his hot cum, swimming out and covering your walls and pooling out, making such a mess.

In a moment of recovery, Leon stopped to catch his breath, keeping himself inside of you and watching you gasp for air, before dictating you: “Go clean yourself up, no one likes a messy slut.”

a/n: the partners dad leon fics are literally my favourite to write atm, and i’m glad to see so many people going feral over them hehe. just wanted to note that i am working on father in law leon kennedy series, and im thinking of not continuing the las plagas series as i don’t find myself or others liking it. thanks for anyone that reads and I appreciate and am grateful for all the engagement.

[heartlessfujoshi]

a night of copulation - an ardynoct one shot

Title: A Night of Copulation Fandom: FFXV Pairing: ArdyNoct (Ardyn Izunia x Noctis Lucis Caelum) Rating: Explicit (NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content - PWP) Word Count: 2100

Summary: Ardyn notices that Noctis is a bit more on edge than normal, so he offers his services to the Prince to help alleviate the tension.

A/N: Happy bday to Noctis! Here's some trash for the Prince's birthday. :) Please enjoy!

---

The Chancellor of Niflheim observed the Prince of Lucis, who looked to be out of sorts at the moment. He was traveling with the group of four as they made their way towards where Titan was, albeit at a glacial pace. It was fine. He had nothing pressing on his agenda, this slow leisurely way of traveling more eye opening than anything else. 

For one, he’s learned that the Prince seems to be entwined with all three men in some sort of fashion. At first, he assumed it was physical, as the four were quite handsy with each other. But as the days wore on, Noctis kept more to himself than the others. Prompto and Gladiolus - those two were practically inseparable. Ignis, theStrategist, kept to himself, ever the observer as he kept watch over the Prince. Ardyn would commend him, but again, Ignis kept to himself. 

It was rather odd, to be quite honest. It almost seemed as if the Prince and his Adviser were purposefully staying away from each other. Which made no sense, as time was short on this planet. Maybe not his time, but that didn’t matter. 

What the Prince needed, as it was made painfully clear after a night of bickering that served no purpose, was to get laid. He needed to be shown a good time, and he needed it two days ago. 

Standing up, he approached where Noctis was brooding, and offered his hand to him. “Your Highness. Would you mind accompanying me for a little walk?” They wouldn’t be going far. The haven they’d chosen to stop at was very close to a Three Z’s Motel, which would be perfect for the two of them. 

“Fine.” Noctis slapped his hand onto his, and Ardyn lifted him up as if he were as light as a feather. 

They walked in the darkness. No daemons came out, thanks to his presence, making the night much quieter in the surrounding area. The other three had already retired for the night, which had clearly upset the Prince, as he was walking with his shoulders hunched down and looked quite pathetic. Ardyn rolled his eyes, but allowed the Prince to have his silent tantrum, as he had his own plans in mind for when they arrived at their destination. 

He’d snuck away earlier and reserved a room for the night, so all he had to do was lead Noctis to the room. The Prince, to his credit, came to a stop as he began to lead him to the last room at the motel. “What is this?” Noctis asked. 

“It is a motel.” Ardyn spoke without much fanfare. “I’m sure you are aware of what a motel is, Your Highness~.” 

“Quit playing around.” The bitterness was very much present in Noctis’ voice. “Why are we here?” 

Taking a step forward, he planted himself directly in front of Noctis, who pulled his head back as if to give him the space he wasn’t really looking for. “You are upset. I’ve brought you here to help you get rid of those feelings.” 

“I’m not sure what you would be able to do here that you wouldn’t be able to do back at the haven, Ardyn.” 

To be young and naive, oh how he’d missed this. “If it would make things easier for you, I will be blunt, Your Highness. I’ve brought you here because you need to have a sexual outlet. Those three are either holding out on you on purpose, or you’re being just as stubborn as you’re being now with them.” 

“H-How? W-What?” Noctis stared at him, shock written all over his face. “What have they said to you?” His eyes narrowed, upset with the correct statements he’s just made. 

“My dear boy, they don’t have to say anything. It’s quite clear that you’re being a little brat. And I’m here to remedy that.” He took Noctis’ hand into his, and pulled him towards the room. Noctis, to his credit, didn’t fight at all. Probably stunned by how forward he was being. “You need this, Your Highness.” 

“I don’t need anything.” The comment lacked its usual bite, as the door to the room closed, leaving the two of them alone. 

Ardyn pulled Noctis towards the bed, and guided him to sit down on the edge. Kneeling between his thighs, he began to slowly take off the Prince’s clothes, Noctis having zero fight in him. “Yes, you do~.” He pulled his shirt over his head, and gently pushed him down onto the bed. “Just relax, and let me take care of you.” 

There were no acerbic remarks from Noctis as Ardyn took off his boots, and then got the rest of his clothes off. The Prince had a gorgeous body - the muted light from the street lamp showed him enough that it was making his mouth water. He could see his cock was semi-hard, as if intrigued by the situation. Ardyn lowered his head and began to lay soft kisses against his heated flesh. He heard Noctis gasp, and before he could pull away, he planted his hands on his hips and held him with a firm grip as his lips returned to his stiffening cock. 

A deep moan left the Prince’s mouth as his lips surrounded the tip, his tongue dipping ever so gently into the slit to have a little taste of His Highness’ essence. He could feel Noctis wanting to lift his hips up, so he loosened his grip allowing him to do as he pleased. The tip of his cock was soon pushing to the back of his mouth, Ardyn fully ready to receive it as he himself released a deep groan. Noctis’ cock was becoming firmer by the second as it rubbed against his tongue in a way he knew the Prince needed. 

Strong fingers tugged on his hair as Noctis continued to roll his hips. “A-Ardyn…” The Prince moaned his name, a strong wave of desire hitting him as he kept his mouth tight around his cock. He had never heard him sound so depraved; it was quite intoxicating. Ardyn bobbed his head, swallowing Noctis’ cock down his throat. A desperate cry was released by the Prince, followed by warm cum flowing down his throat. He swallowed it down with greed, the Prince’s hot seed tasting delicious. 

He kept Noctis in his mouth until he felt him grow soft, and then began the task of making him hard again. It was rather easy, as Noctis was now in the aftershocks of his first orgasm. “There’s plenty more to come,” Ardyn whispered against his thickening flesh. “Until the sun rises, I shall make you feel good, Your Highness~.” 

Taking off his clothes, Ardyn settled himself on top of Noctis’ thighs before helping him to lay properly on the bed. Once that was done, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against Noctis’. “Kiss me…” Noctis pleaded, after a third pass of brushing his lips in a teasing manner. 

“With pleasure, Noctis.”

Their lips came together clumsily, as Ardyn was now pushing the tip of his cock up against Noctis’ tight hole. He teased him with the tip, as their tongues met with sloppy kisses, Noctis now moaning like a bitch in heat. Ardyn chuckled low, placing his hand on Noctis’ jaw as he deepened the kiss, making the Prince release heady moans into his mouth. 

Pulling his hand away, he lathered up his fingers with some lube that had found its way onto the bed, and brought it down to the Prince’s puckering hole. He slowly teased his anus with the tips of his fingers, Noctis’ moans sending him to the heavens. “If I had known how responsive you were, I would have brought you here days ago, Your Highness~.” He teased him, enjoying the whimpers now leaving his mouth as his fingers were pushing against his inner walls, spreading him open for his cock. 

“D-Didn’t know….either…” Noctis moaned, leaning his head back as Ardyn found the spot within his body that made him melt. “O-Oh, Gods!” 

“The Gods have nothing to do with this.” Ardyn murmured low, then slowly pulled his fingers out of him. “It is because of me.” He poured a little more lube onto his hand, and coated his cock with it. Pushing the tip back against his now spread hole, Ardyn stared into Noctis’ eyes. “Me.” 

“Y-You….A-Ardyn…” 

The Prince moaned his name as he thrust his hips forward, sinking his cock deep into Noctis’ body. Ardyn locked his wrists on either side of Noctis’ head, and slowly began to thrust his hips back and forth, back and forth. Each time he reached a little deeper, and each time that he did, Noctis’ cries were as sweet as nectar. It was thrilling, making the Prince his bitch through this all too human act. He had been right - all Noctis needed was a good fuck, and he was here to provide to him. 

He made Noctis come two times before pulling out and flipping him onto his stomach. Noctis lifted his hips up, and as soon as he was on his hands and knees, Ardyn was drilling his cock back into his body. Noctis’ moans were now bawdy, rich with the flavor of sex, his body shaking under the ministrations that Ardyn’s pleasure was causing him. He held tight to his hips and slammed his cock deeper and deeper into him. A strangled cry left Noctis’ mouth as he felt his inner walls clamp up tight around him again, and with his own deep moan, he pushed forward and spilled his own seed deep inside of Noctis’ body. 

Pulling out, he watched as some cum dripped down onto Noctis’ thigh, but before he could clean it up, the Prince was pulling him down onto the bed and was kissing him again. Ardyn closed his eyes and moaned low; Noctis’ kisses were quite telling. He knew the Prince desired more, and was only too pleased to make it so. He guided him to lay on top of him as their mouths stayed together, his hands sliding down to his bare ass, spreading his cheeks apart as he teased him with his thickening cock. 

And so it went, over and over until dawn arrived. As the sun began to rise, the Prince fell fast asleep on Ardyn’s chest, who was smiling despite himself. The Prince was a very enthusiastic lover, and one that Ardyn hoped would remain for a little while longer.

Noctis' phone began to ring, bringing the Prince out of his light sleep. “Ah, crap.” 

“Rest.” He reached for the offending object, and brought it to his ear. “The Prince of Lucis’ phone~.” 

“Oh, good.” Ignis’ voice came through the speaker. “The Prince is with you, I take it?” 

He looked down, and saw that Noctis was now kissing the tip of his cock. Ardyn gave him a smile, and nodded his head, both in reply to Ignis’ question and what the Prince was doing. “He is. He’s a bit busy at the moment, though.” He closed his eyes as Noctis’ wet mouth wrapped tight around his cock. “Is there an urgency to this call, Mr. Scientia~?” 

“There is not. We wanted to be sure he was with you, as neither of you are here.” 

His fingers pushed through the raven locks of hair as Noctis really began to suck hard on his stiff flesh. “We are. We will return in a little while. Perhaps this afternoon, or this evening.” 

“No rush, Chancellor. If you two are together, there is no reason to worry. Take care of His Highness, please.” 

Opening his eyes, he looked down at Noctis, whose lips were now almost white as he struggled to take more of his girth into his mouth. “Oh, I will~. See you soon.” He ended the call, dropping the phone back onto the Prince’s shorts. “I’ve bought us some more time, Your Highness~. Keep being a good boy, would you?” His other hand pushed through Noctis’ hair, and held tight as he began to properly fuck his mouth, now that the need to be present was gone. 

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost sunset. A marathon day of sex left the Prince dazed, with a pleasant smile slapped on his face. Ardyn couldn’t help but smile as his friends greeted Noctis, knowing that the reason he seemed more himself was because of him. Because sometimes, you need a good deep dicking to set your mind back on course. And he was more than happy to oblige. 

xXx

Cross-posted to AO3

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look. 

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

++++

Tag List 🏷

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[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part IV)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 3,429

Warnings/Tags: @tiktoktheclockisticking​ Bullying, Language, ANGST CITY, Alcohol, Side Iruka x Reader, Fem!Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: I’m fully expecting to get messages in my inbox that range drastically in forcefulness. Perhaps a “how dare you” or two. 

You stood outside of Shushu-ya, almost as if you expected to be told to come in. A silly notion. With a heavy sigh, you clenched the warped gift in your hands, starting to regret the shoes you wore among other things. But you know you couldn’t back out now. You couldn’t miss Iruka’s birthday. Your reluctant hand grasped the door and before you could chicken out, you heaved it open.

The group was easy to spot, even in Shushu-ya’s dim lighting. Everyone gathered around the bar. A few people sat in a large, open booth. The crowd made you nervous, but you couldn’t help but feel a semblance of relief. You weren’t the first one there. Iruka spotted you immediately and waved you over. You took a sharp inhale before forcing yourself across the restaurant with a smile. You were, at the very least, glad to see him.

Iruka got up from his spot at the end of the extensive, circular seating and greeted you warmly. Knowing him, he sat at the end just to see people come in the door. He extended his arms to you in a hug. You happily embraced him. It had been quite some time since you got to spend any quality time with your friend. You handed him his present.

“As usual, you’re always so thoughtful.” Iruka pursed his lips, a sentimental expression coming upon him. Even still, the corners of his lips turned upward into that classic Iruka grin. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s your birthday, Iruka. Of course I’m going to get you something nice.”

Iruka motioned for you to sit down and carefully placed your gift in the pile he had accumulated. You took a seat among two ninjas who you only knew by name. Iruka sat down next to who you were fairly sure you recognized as Kakashi of the Sharingan. The mask made it difficult to tell. You took your place next to Might Guy, the Leaf’s Green, Taijutsu Beast. You looked over to Iruka and wondered how he made such powerful friends. You supposed it was hard to not be acquainted with any famous shinobi in Konoha. Perhaps that’s what happened when you weren’t afraid to talk to people. You spied a few more of your colleagues around the bar, including your teammates from the last mission you took. They didn’t seem particularly pleased about your presence, but no one was going to impulsively make a fuss in front of Iruka.

You kept your head down and that’s where it stayed. The conversation went, for the most part, without you. You ordered a water quietly. You weren’t the type to drink, especially when you were as on edge as you were in this particular setting. The waiter set down your glass, making a sort of a sour face. You stared at the clear liquid, supposing that not many ordered water from a bar.

“That’s all you’re going to get?” You looked up into Kakashi’s intense eye. “You know you’re not on the clock, right?” He chuckled and you nervously laughed with him.

“Don’t listen to him.” Iruka rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his own drink. His kind gaze found yours. “You can do whatever you want, just know that the tab is already taken care of.” He looked past you and waved towards the bar. The bartender waved back.

“No, no. I completely understand!” Guy wrapped an arm around you, holding you a bit too close for the volume of his voice. You immediately let go of your drink. Your eyes went wide as he shook you with every word. “You gotta watch out for that hangover! Very smart! I commend you!” Kakashi tsked, tilting his head towards Iruka.

“Such a bad host, letting her sit next to Guy like that.” Iruka laughed sheepishly.

“Sorry,” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I guess the seat was open for a reason.” Guy pouted at the discourse across the table, arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Nonsense! Tease me all you like but I just know that… uh…” He turned to you with an outstretched hand and as much embarrassment as Might Guy was capable of. “What was your name again?” You took his much larger hand in yours and spoke your name, realizing that you hadn’t prior. He immediately shouted your name as if to commit it to memory, shaking you even harder than before. His shout got the attention of the rest of the booth and you suddenly your self consciousness skyrocketed. “—and we’re going to be best friends by the time the night is over! What do you think? You down for a party?” And suddenly you were expected to respond. You glanced around nervously.

“Um, yeah. Sure thing… I just think it’s really nice how everyone’s together.” Despite your response, you still felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. Sweat began to bead on your brow and your palms. You crossed your legs. “I feel like everyone’s always on missions so it’s nice to be among friends. And um, I can drink to that.” You glanced around the table once more, to Guy, to Kakashi, and then Iruka. Iruka’s eyes fluttered shut.

“I couldn’t say it better myself.” You raised your water weakly.

“Happy Birthday, Iruka.” Iruka raised his glass of sake and a roar went around the booth and extended to the bar. Someone hastily ordered a round of shots for the whole group. They came quickly, likely due to whatever likely large tip Iruka gave to the bartender.

One slid across the hard surface over to you. You gripped it between your fingers. The alcohol went down your throat with a steady burn. You let out a gasp with a bat of your eyes. The aftertaste of the ethanol burned your nasal cavity. Kakashi let out a deep laugh. Guy patted you hard on the back causing you to cough. Iruka smiled, ordering another round. You took another shot. People filtered in the door. And as the night went on, the three of you took to greeting Iruka’s guests along with him. The party crew quickly overtook the bar. A dull roar overtook Shushu-ya.

More words spilled from your mouth than you thought ever would in one sitting. Your three colleagues listened to you intently, jovially, and exchanged stories of their own. A small crowd gathered around your booth, members flitting from the bar and back. And for once in your life, people actually listened to you. You told your stories animatedly, waving your hands in emphasis. You took in the smiles around you, tales of missions and edgy impressions flying from your lips. Distracted, you hardly noticed the looks exchanged by your old teammates as they leaned against the low back of the booth.

“And I said, ‘You don’t need a rag, you need a towel’!” All those gathered around you burst out in hysterics. You felt the low rumble of Guy next to you. Iruka couldn’t pick his head up from the table. Kakashi yanked him up by his collar, revealing Iruka’s red, cackling expression. Kakashi snorted, dropping the cloth under his hand to cover his own face as he mocked his longtime friend. Joyful tears were still welled in your eyes when a slender hand clamped onto your shoulder.

You looked behind you only to become face to face with the kunoichi from your team. Her ever prevalent scowl remained plastered to her lips but they swiftly upturned into a sickly sweet smile.

“Hey, why don’t you tell everyone about our last mission? Or should I say, your last mission.” Your eyes widened and a chill coursed down your spine, remembering her unforgiving grasp on your hair following your meeting with the Hokage. You clenched your fists underneath the table, balling up the fabric of your clothing. What did she want from you? She crinkled her nose at you smugly. “Shy all of the sudden? That’s okay, I can tell it.” You heard Kakashi clap his hands together. You jumped.

“I’m always down for a good mission story,” He admitted eagerly. You shook your head vigorously.

“No, this one’s not very interest—” Another hard slap on your shoulder. Her nails dug into your shoulder.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I think they’ll all find this very interesting.” The kunoichi settled into her spot behind you, shifting her weight as she leaned forward. With a finger, she pointed out your two other team members. “See we were assigned with this one to find a scroll in a territory suspected of being owned by Orochimaru. ‘Cause she’s a wonder at blending in, right? That’s what we were told. And of course you know how these things go. Of course we find someone. Some bitch of Orochimaru—”

And as she described it, you could remember the scene vividly. Your teammates were reckless in their fighting and overall poor choices for a stealth mission. Flashy jutsu corrupted the frame of the underground system. The walls began to crack and shake. Your enemy had been caught off guard and outnumbered. Seeming to be already injured, there was only so much he could do to fight back. That was how you met Kabuto Yakushi.

“And so she doesn’t even warn us that the tunnel is, like, about to collapse. Some freak earthquake or something. So the enemy is knocked out cold and we’re running and running to try to find a way out and—”

You dove towards him. You didn’t know what drew you towards him in the first place but that’s what you did. As your team left without you, you tried your best to save the young ninja who had to only be as old as you. You tried to drag him but either you were too frail or he was too heavy. Your second option. Your hands ignited in healing jutsu, flickering on and off. You were by no means a healer, but your only thought in your panic was to get him awake. And as the maze of tunnels imploded around you, your world went black.

“So we don’t see her for days. You know, we think she’s dead. So in the meantime, we check out the other places on our list. Nada. We’re about to completely give up and then, wouldn’t you know, this one shows up having spent almost a week in enemy territory holding the exact thing we were looking for. Zero scratches and she apparently ‘doesn’t remember’ anything about it. Don’t you think that’s funny?” The kunoichi motions to your other teammates.

“I remember it being very funny,” One huffs, arms crossed. The small surrounding crown had gone silent. You dared to look across the table. Kakashi sat with his arms on the table, wordless. Iruka pursed his lips, equally expressionless. He cleared his throat. An awkward overtone laced the atmosphere.

“Well I think that’s enough of that—”

“Well, I wasn’t done. Almost there, though, I promise.” The kunoichi held up her hand. “‘Cause wouldn’t you know it? When we got back to the village, we found out that the scroll was a fake.”

“Well,” You squeaked, “Later we did find out that it was authentic after all—”

“But that was later,” She snapped. She ruffled your hair roughly, giving your head a slight push as she finally took her hands off of you. “Still doesn’t explain where you got it from.” She leaned in towards your ear. “Traitor.”

“Okay that’s enough.” Iruka stood from his seat. He extended his arm towards the door. “You three have clearly had too much to drink. I think it’s time for you to go home.” The kunoichi scoffed.

“We haven’t had too much of anything,” She snorted with a roll of her eyes and opened her mouth to say more. Guy turned with the most serious expression you had seen from him all night.

“He’s giving you an out. I suggest you take it.” He told her and apparently, that’s all it took for them to leave.

Iruka apologized for your team’s behavior but said nothing more about it for the rest of your time present. Most of the partygoers stuck to the bar now. Everything was off and you knew it would be as long as you were there. Your friends could hardly look you in the eye properly. You remained for a little while longer, starting to feel dreadfully sober. And when you thought you wouldn’t draw too much attention, you announced that you were leaving.

“Let me walk you out.” Guilt rattled around in your chest. It was Iruka’s birthday and you ruined it, just like you thought you would. And yet, he still offered to walk you out.

You allowed it, suddenly finding yourself standing outside of Shushu-ya, Iruka by your side. Even as the door closed behind you, you could hear the sound of Konoha’s nightlife. You waited for Iruka to speak, but the weight on your shoulders became unbearable.

“I’m not leaving because of you, you know. I had a good time. I really did, so go back in there and know that, okay?” You tried to read his face. He looked conflicted and the pounding of your heart only increased.

“I just want you to know that you have a friend. Eh, friends. No matter what.” You blinked at him a few times. You didn’t like how he said that last part.

“No matter what?” You let out a nervous laugh for the umpteenth time that night. Your eyes wandered erratically. “What do you mean by that?” You were expecting some reassurance, but none came. Your mind filled in the blanks. You took a step back. He took a step forward. “No matter if I sold out the Leaf? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I-I didn’t say that.” He stammered. Suddenly frantic. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, you’re not denying it.” You gripped onto your strap bag. Another step back. Another step forward.

“I don’t think you sold out the Leaf. Not on purpose.” The tail end of that sentence stung. You began to tremble. Another person who thought that you were a traitor. “Listen, I had a student once. He’s out of the Academy now but he was in your shoes once.” You couldn’t look at him. You focused on your shoes, the shoes you’ve regretted wearing. “I know how guys like that are. I know how manipulative they can be, how they can convince you into doing something that you know you don’t want to do.” Your head snapped up.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t convinced to do anything wrong by anyone.”

“I know how kind you are. I know that you had a good heart. No one’s going to blame you if someone took advantage of that. I don’t care what happened. We’ve known each other forever. I’ll always be here for you.” Iruka gently placed his hands on your shoulders and his forehead against yours. You became cognisant of how violently you quaked. You didn’t even register his confession. The sharp burning between your eyes threatened to spill over into tears.

“Iruka, please stop. Just tell me that you believe me.” You gripped onto his forearm, wanting to feel a semblance of comfort. “I’m not a traitor.”

“I do believe you.” Unconvincing. You looked into his eyes, salty droplets now silently streaming down your cheeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Iruka nodded against you without a word. A beat. You gulped. “And Kabuto didn’t either.”

He pulled away, trying to fight a frown from crossing his face. You could see it. The realization morphing his features. Iruka tried his best not to show any of his mixed emotions, but he was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Who? The bingo book ninja?” He shoved a hand in his pocket. He always did that when he was nervous. “No, I’m sure he didn’t. D-didn't do anything wrong.” Once again, unconvincing.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. Please, uh, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You didn’t look back. You ran home.

***

When you got to your apartment, you dropped to the floor. You scrambled for a kunai to pry open the floorboard. Throwing the plank aside, you plucked out the scroll. Unraveling it, you bit your finger, smearing your blood across the summoning symbol.

You were already starting to scurry off when Kabuto appeared. You walked right through the white cloud of smoke. He felt troubled, but that wasn’t something you picked up on. Kabuto immediately pulled out a scalpel in defense, ready for an emergency fight. You didn’t even tell him to lower his weapon. You didn’t blink twice. You stormed straight to your wardrobe, yanking out a large travel bag.

“What’s going on? I thought you were going out tonight.” Kabuto asked, but you ignored him, stuffing belongings inside the bag. You skittered frantically around the room, pulling sentimental belongings from your drawers and off your shelves. Kabuto looked on helplessly as you muttered to yourself. He could hardly catch you with how erratically you darted around your small living space. With enough calculation, he caught you, grabbing you by your wrists. You struggled against him. “Hey, hey, hey slow down. Tell me what happened.”

You looked up at him, rivulets still flowing from your eyes.

“Please, Kabuto,” You begged. “Let’s run away together.”

His immediate response was to let go of you, stumbling a bit backwards.

“What?” His mouth went dry.

“I—” You couldn’t even get your thoughts straight. You just spoke, everything spilling out of you. —“Please take me away from here.” Ever-suave, Kabuto found himself panicked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve killed a lot of people for one thing—” You met his eyes, but in your haze you missed all that they told. You saw complete and utter rejection.

“Aren’t you the one who always tells me that you’re not my enemy? You’re all I have.” Betrayal. If Kabuto could name the expression that washed over your face that would be it. You wiped the wetness from your skin with your sleeve. “Please, you know I would be quiet. You could have any of my books. I don’t even care about shoes on my bed. I don’t even need a bed just please let’s go right now!”

And for all of his big talk, Kabuto was at a loss. He wanted to. More than anything he wanted to scoop you off of your feet then and there, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t an option. He couldn’t bring you to Orochimaru. You were supposed to be here in the Leaf. You belonged here in the Leaf. This was where you could be happiest, not on the run with him. He’s caused enough damage to your life.

“I can’t.” That was all he managed to make out without his voice cracking. And as he looked into your large, wet eyes, his heart shattered.

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I-I can’t. I—” He kicked himself. —“You’ll be happier here.”

“I’ll be happier with you,” You pleaded. You balled up your hands in the front of his shirt. “Please, I love you.” Kabuto diverted his eyes from yours, clenching them shut.

“No, you don’t.” He placed his hands over yours, gingerly trying to remove you from him but you stood firm. “You’re drunk. I’m sure that if you go to bed you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’m not drunk!” You argued, getting even more desperate than you already were. “You told me to gather up some nerve so here it is! I love you! Please let’s go, just you and me. We can start over—” And with a few quick hand signs, you fell asleep.

Kabuto’s hand hovered over your forehead. He could see your fear, feel it too. He caught you as you began to collapse and brought you over to the bed. Knowing your recovery speed, the jutsu wouldn’t last for long. Perhaps it would last a half hour, maybe less. Anyone else and he would have expected them to be out for the rest of the night. He covered you with your blanket and sat at the edge of the bed, ready to recast his spell when you began to come to for the rest of the night. He knew that if you kept talking, he would have done exactly what you asked. Kabuto buried his head in his hands and uncharacteristically, for the first time in years, began to sob.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[mudhornchronicles]

that cantina | din djarin

^ not my gif

pairing: din djarin x f!bartender reader 

warnings: sexual themes and outfits, cursing, adult thots...

fic inspired by this post by @flightlessangelwings 

a/n: this is my first time publishing on tumblr and writing about my beloved tin can. so pls bare with me. also pls enjoy the read + the little divider thing i just made and s/o to @jangohshit​ for the awesome url 

masterlist

As she picks up her 50 owed credits and wipes away the watery rims on the streaky mahogany bar top left by a patron’s 6th glass of cold spotchka, she commends the Dug’s ability to walk out of the cantina without crashing onto the floor. Dugs may be small and slender, but Maker can they hold their liquor. With the amount of people in the stuffy, ill-lit cantina, she would expect the Dug to bump into something or someone in his alcohol-driven state.

Unfortunately for her, she did not get to see the amusing sight. Instead, she began to sense the sudden feeling of being watched. She discreetly scopes out the cantina and is immediately met with the intimidating figure and intense stare from a very familiar beskar helmet. She smirks over at the Mandalorian and give a slight nod to guide him over to her side of the risqué cantina.

This cantina in particular, located in the outskirts of Canto Bight, was known for the racy atmosphere once you stepped through the door. Many cantinas liked to keep it simple and vintage with a bar top, tables, and space to walk through. This specific cantina was not that. Whether you were looking to have a drink and observe the bartenders clad in lingerie or pay and party with ladies of the night, everyone knew this cantina as that cantina.

She met him about 3 cycles ago. He was looking for a Gungan gone rogue and his tracking fob led him to Canto Bight. When he had asked about the bounty to people in the city, they all told him that he’d find the bounty at that cantina. He began to get frustrated, but then he saw her. As she walked to work, she’d caught his eye. He walked over to her and she smiled at him. Mando had never had someone just smile at him, and Maker did her smile ignite something in him. She walked with him to the cantina with her walking in first and him following minutes later. When she caught his eye again, it was for a very different reason.

The worn leather bustier she wore emphasized her chest so much that Mando had to make sure his visor was not distorting the image in front of him. She wore a yellow and black plaid skirt and some heels whose laces wound up to her knee. He knew she was beautiful, but then he noticed the insincere smile she wore as she worked behind the bar. This job was supposed to be in and out – quick and simple. But meeting her made him want to let the bounty enjoy his 2,000 credits he just spent on a Pantoran lady. When he landed the first time, he told himself he’d never come back to that weird place. Yet, here he is again for what feels like the thousandth time.

She turns around to face the inside of the worn-down bar and adjusts her breasts in her obsidian-colored corset. She always wanted to look her best for her favorite client. She grabs a clean glass of water and turns back around to lean on the counter. All because she is the Mandalorian best view in the place, or at least that is what he's told her.  

“Me'vaar ti gar,” he coldly says to her.

She looks into his visor with a stern look. “Naas.”

A lighthearted sound comes out the beskar helmet as he lightly taps the counter and takes a seat. “Kandosii!”

“Don’t know what that means, but what will it be today, Mando? Business or pleasure?” She winks at him while his visor is set on her face. She doesn’t know that the man behind the visor has been in cantina for an hour prior to his approach just looking at the woman he can’t seem to shake off.

“There has never been pleasure, mesh’la. Just business,” he calmly says. She shrugs and passes him the glass of water.

“Never hurts to ask, right? Maybe one day you’ll change your mind,” she says jokingly. “So, tell me. What bounty are you looking for now? I can’t confirm or deny that I have any information for you tonight, but there was a suspicious Twi'lek that came in about an hour ago. He’s on the other side of the bar.”

He looks towards the green Twi’lek and nods. He puts the glass aside and gives her a once over. “When did you get that corset? Last time I was here, you had a purple one. The one with the lace trimming and black ties in the back.” She smiles and looks down. He remembers, she thought.

“It started to get worn down so I sold it for 25 credits. Better than nothing, but do you like it? I just bought it with the credits you oh so greatly left me the last time.” She lightly taps his gloved hand resting on the counter. “What did you say when you left it? Think of it as a tip for your information and all I told you was that there was no Rodian,” she laughs. A modulated chuckle leaves his helmet as he looks at the other bartenders in the place. All in lingerie, more revealing than hers. Although she was wearing a corset, which covered most of her torso, her legs were very exposed. A sight Mando forcibly had to rip away from every time he was here. His mind wandered every time.

The thought of running his bare fingers along the bottom of her smooth legs to the top of her supple thighs.

The thought of how they’d feel wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to her as he fills her with the feelings he can’t verbally express to her yet.

The thought of her thighs pressing the sides of his head as he ea-

He is ripped out of the less than innocent daydream as she’s waving her hand in front of his visor. “Mandooooo. You in there?” His line of tinted vision focuses back onto her smiling face, the smile that haunts his dreams. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

She shakes her head and smirks. “I said if you need any information on a bounty! I have a client who wants me to join his little “get together” and is paying a good amount, so I don’t have much time.” She nudges her head up to a balcony set up in the cantina where other ladies are dancing for a group of Weequays.

He looks up and looks back at her. “How much ae they paying for you to waste your time with him?” She smirks and raises her eyebrow at the warrior in front of her.

“You jealous?”

“Jii, dala,” he warns.

She pouts and crosses her arms, which, in Mando’s eyes, only accentuates her chest. “No fair. You haven’t taught me that, yet.”

He sighs. He straightens up and leans a bit forward toward her. “Cyare, how much is he paying for you to go up there?”

She looks at his visor and feels as if she can look into the eyes of her beloved warrior. She looks back down at her hands. “3,000.”

“Dank farrik,” he whispers to himself. He looks down into his belt and counts the credits he currently has. A grand total of 1,400. He knows he can’t out-do 3,000 credits. He still must go out and get The Child and himself some supplies. They can’t survive on the old ration packs he had for emergency purposes.

Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go up there either. She was already given a new “uniform” by the Toydarian cantina owner for the night. A brown leather bra, black lace panties, black ripped stockings, and, weirdly enough, a pair of old brown boots. Weequays know nothing of fashion she thought to herself. As much as she knows Weequays can get touchy, she knows she can’t say no. She’s getting 1000 of those credits. A 33% share is a rare occurrence for Toydarians and she needs those credits if she wants to eat and have a roof over her head. She looks back at her Mandalorian and decides to lighten the mood.

“So do you like it or not?”

He turns and looks back at her. “Like what?”

She does a slow spin with the smile that can melt Hoth. “The outfit you bought me!”

“It’s nice,” he simply says, still not okay with her upcoming shift.

She abruptly stops and pouts. “Nice? I won’t be getting tips with a nice outfit, Mando. What if I unbutton the top buttons?” She goes to unbutton her corset and takes a step back when Mando suddenly grabs her hand to halt her actions.

“No.” He looks at her hand in his hand loosens his grip, but her hand remains in his. “I- I meant that you look nice in it. Not nice as in cute nice, but nice as in you look…” He stops speaking and looks at her. “You look… you look incredible. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you at his arm.”

She feels almost giddy inside, as if her elementary school crush finally came up to say hello followed by her name. She looked at her hand in his as she felt a light blush form across her cheeks. “You really think so?”

Before he could answer, the aforementioned Toydarian cantina owner flies over to her all the while yelling her name. She immediately let go of her Mandalorian’s hand and acknowledges her boss. He begins yelling at her for not yet changing for her appointment with the Weequay group and she notices the beskar covered warrior tense. Mando stands and faces the Toydarian and begins to speak, but is cutoff by her.

“Don’t worry, boss. I was just wrapping up this client’s order. I’m going. You’ll get your 2000 credits.” She begins to push her boss away.

“You better make them happy. They’ve got loose pockets.” The Toydarian suddenly grabs her chin “If they say jump, you say how high. You got-“ She follows his gaze over to her Mandalorian, only to see him pointing a blaster at the Toydorian’s head.

“She’s going to do what she’s comfortable doing, you got that?”

Her boss chuckles and shakes his head at the bounty hunter. “She’s going to do what is going to make me money.”

She tries to interfere, but the bounty hunter grabs her boss by his face’s trunk. “Listen here, you oversized Kowakian. They aren’t going to touch her and she’s going to do her job. That’s it.” She tries to convince Mando to let the small creature go, but the warrior wasn’t done. “If I hear she was uncomfortable in even the slightest, it’s your trunk on my wall. Do you understand?” All she saw was her boss frantically nod in agreement and fly away as soon as Mando let go. She looks over at the Mandalorian she has grown to harbor deep feelings for.

“What the hell was that!”

He slides his blaster back into its holster and places some credits on the counter, more than what an untouched glass of water costs.

“You’re going to do your job and so am I. You see the biggest Weequay in the group?” she looks over and nods.

He activates the tracking puck, revealing that the Weequay leader was coincidentally his bounty. “Stars, Mando! If you are catching him, then why are you so worried about me going up there?” He looks over to her and shrugs.

“Why would I want you to be in that position?”

She smiles at him and lightly gives her own shrug. She checks the time and takes the still untouched glass of water. “Well Mando, it was nice to see you again. Should I expect you in the next couple of rotations?”

“Possibly.”

She lets out a small laugh and she takes the credits for the water, leaving the rest. Before he can protest, she catches him by surprise with her departing choice of words. “You know Mando, sometimes I think you might love me.” With that she laughs and waves a goodbye as she walks away to ready herself for the Weequays.

He watches her leave and his eyes direct themselves to her behind. Those small shorts that leave little to the imagination as they shape the swells of her ass beautifully. He is a man after all. He smiles to himself as he recalls her previous statement. He lets out a small chuckle as he stands to scope his bounty. “Yeah… might.”

mando’a translations:

Me'vaar ti gar [Meh-VAR tee-GAR] = How are you? (Lit. What’s new with you?)

Naas [nahs] = Good (Lit. Nothing)

per mandoa.org “Me'vaar ti gar = How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal.. The response for *I'm fine thanks,* is *Naas.* (Literally - nothing. )”

Kandosii! [Kan-DOH-see] = Nice one! Wicked! Well done!

Mesh’la [MAYSH`lah] = beautiful

Jii [gee] = Now

Dala [DAH-lah] = Woman

Cyare [SHAH-ray] = beloved

tags:

@flightlessangelwings @din-damn-djarin

[msyuksanh]

“Sly” | Jamil Viper x Reader

Summary This little story is set after the events of Episode 4, and sees how a crush can form on the Scarabia Vice Dorm Leader...

Rating: G Characters: Jamil Viper Location: NRC Kitchen, Library

———

It was busy in the NRC kitchen, one early evening, with the Scarabia students running around getting ready to take dinner back to the dorm.

Jamil moved around the kitchen tasting the food, giving the okay, or making adjustments. Such was the norm, and the students always enjoyed joining the Vice Dorm Leader make dinner because they knew whatever it was going to be it was going to be both a feast and absolutely delicious.

The Ramshackle dorm residents, all two of you, had stumbled upon the Scarabia students in the kitchen by coincidence when Grim decided to go on a hunt for a can of tuna after he’d discovered he’d eaten through his stock.

In the aftermath of Jamil’s overblot, you and Grim seemed to be quite welcome to join the dorm in a variety of activities. Kalim would take you and Grim on magic carpet rides across the desert to the oasis and you’d have fun playing in the water or relaxing in the sun. Sometimes the Octavinelle trio would be invited, and you’d have a party there with all the Scarabia students.

Jamil and Azul had fun with their new found rivalry playing board games, and their weekly sessions involved a new one every time. So far the score was tied with both winning and losing equally.

“You only won because you’re used to accumulating a vast fortune. Only this time it was in property…” said Jamil picking up the small green houses and red hotels.

Azul could only keep the smug grin at bay for so long. “Well, when you have life experience why not use it to win? I’m sure you’ll beat me if there’s a game about cooking…”

Jamil shot Azul the dirtiest look.

It really was enjoyable seeing different dorms socializing together.

Even though Kalim and Jamil’s relationship seemed a little strained after the overblot situation, Jamil looked as if he were a little more comfortable in Kalim’s company. And even though you had  only being around him for those few days during winter break you could see Jamil was looking a little more relaxed these days.

Admiration started to grow within you whenever you noticed Jamil smile a little more, or when he got excited during board game night, or when he said something encouraging to one of the dorm students. It really was commendable how he learnt to accept himself as more than just Kalim’s aide.

A while back you’d noticed Jamil studying alone in the library, but you didn’t really know him then. After winter break there were times you’d decided on the off occasion to sit at his table to study. He stopped reading or writing to look up at you with a blank expression, and you smiled back to show you were harmless. However, he immediately returned to what he was doing. At first it was a little off putting but you slowly got used to it. Jamil was very studious and it was understandable he didn’t want to be interrupted mid-flow.

The few times you’d sat at his table you couldn’t help but feel guilty thinking your presence was bothering him, so you figured it was better for you to move. Although once, you were reading mid-sentence when you felt someone pull the chair out from beside you. You were surprised to see the Scarabia vice dorm leader setting up his work area.

“Is there a problem?” Jamil asked sitting down and opening his book.

“No” you replied with a small smile.

To be honest you rather enjoyed his company despite at the time not really having had much conversation with him outside of niceties.

The next few library sessions after that it was natural for you both to sit next to each other, and at times Jamil even gave you advice with things you didn’t understand. The things you didn’t understand was a lot because quite a bit of the content was about magic and you…were not a magic user.

Grim never studied with you in the library. He found it pretty boring in there, and his personality was so big that maybe, you thought amusingly, the library couldn’t contain it. So whenever you mentioned you were headed that way he would sing “Boring!”, and wander off to other dorms to see who was free to hang out/where he could get free food.

Of course, whenever a test was coming up Grim would panic a few days beforehand because he clearly hadn’t studied, and so you would have to pull all nighters with him up until test day. You couldn’t find it in your nature to leave him high and dry, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t irritating. And since you both were here in the college together counting as one student; if he failed you failed.

“How do you keep up with all nighters and regular classes then?” Jamil queried.

“I don’t know…I think I might just be a really good person” You said feigning innocence.

Jamil scoffed. “Isn’t there a way to make life a little easier on yourself?”

You pursed your lips and tapped your chin in thought. “What if I were to threaten not to help him and pretend I don’t care that we’ll be kicked out and that we’ll be barred from entering Night Raven College ever again and he’ll never be an all powerful wizard?”

There was a moment of silence.

“You’ve been thinking about that for a while, haven’t you?” Jamil asked.

“Yeah, a little bit”

Jamil chuckled hearing more of your interactions with the little monster. You thought he maybe found some parallels with his friendship with Kalim and he understood to some extent the difficulties you had experienced.

There were times when Jamil explained some things to you and he pointed at your book with his pen. Your eyes would wander from his hand, up his arm and to his angular face with its stern expression…and those soft looking lips. You realized how close he was and immediately averted your gaze back to your book. He asked if you’d understood and you answered honestly with a “no”. He laughed gently and, thankfully, explained it again. Sometimes he was even proud of some of the scores you’d got on tests, and took partial credit due to his expert tutelage. His words, not yours.

There was excitement and anticipation slowly growing within you whenever you went to the library. Would he be there? Would he not? More often than not Jamil would be there, or he’d turn up a few minutes later after you’d sat down. Oddly enough, you both never scheduled a time to meet, and yet somehow you both knew the other would be there. If you were to actually agree a time to meet, would it have put into the universe the suggestion that you actually…liked him?

Back in the kitchen the food was almost ready. Jamil had sent students back to the dorm with plates full of food, cutlery, bowls, etc. They were all so excited to head back they were practically running towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“Grim, I’m putting you in charge until I get back. Make sure the students are dishing up the food properly and make sure every student gets enough, alright?” Jamil directed at the flying fire monster.

Grim puffed up his chest in pride. “I see you recognize leadership when it’s staring you in the face”

The little creature beat his chest gently and grinned widely. “You can trust me, Jamil!”

And off he flew ahead of the last of the students. You heard him in the distance suddenly taking an arrogant tone; clearly the power having had already gone to his head in those last 10 seconds. You could only roll your eyes and laugh.

All became quiet with only you and Jamil left in the kitchen, and you became increasingly aware of that fact. He was wiping down counters and putting things away, and all the while you were trying to stave off the nervousness of being alone with your crush.

Although, suddenly feeling guilty he was clearing up while you stood there doing nothing, you asked: “Is there anything left to do? Can I help?”

Jamil walked back over to one of the counters and you followed suit.

“There’s just this last basket of bread to take; other than that, no. But, thank you”

The vice dorm leader smiled softly at you appreciating your offer. You smiled back and took a step forward to admire the handmade bread stacked up in the woven basket. It smelled amazing and you could still see a little steam rising from the small buns having come out of the oven a few minutes ago. Jamil really was an impressive cook. It seemed to you there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.

You reflexively took a step back as he picked up the basket. You looked around the room to do a final check, and when you turned back Jamil was stood in front of you.

You looked up at him with an innocent smile and cocked your head in confusion.

“Could you hold this a second?”

“Oh, sure” You answered and placed your hands around the handles as he took his away.

As you looked back up you felt hands around your face, and before you knew it Jamil had leant in and pressed his lips against yours. You reflexively closed your eyes but your brain was a hot mess of thoughts. You had to concentrate hard on making sure you didn’t drop what you were holding but at the same time you were confused, panicked and…happy?

Your body started warming up and your heart started beating faster as Jamil pressed harder.

That was it. The bread was going to go on the floor. You couldn’t tell your body to keep hold of the basket any longer not with the kiss getting more and more heated by the second. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

Just as fast as Jamil had entered your space, he’d pulled away and took the basket from you. He headed toward the kitchen door leaving you in a trembling stupor.

As he’d reached the doorway he turned back after realizing you weren’t following.

“Are you coming?” Jamil asked with an evil smirk.

With a hand on your forehead covering your eyes, you needed a moment to process what just happened.

And what did just happen? Your crush kissed you out of the blue. And you liked it. And you liked him. And, judging by his actions, he likes you back.

You tried so hard to stifle the wide grin that appeared on your face. You even tried biting your lip, but that didn’t help in the slightest.

You decided to walk towards him but the floor mainly held your attention because you knew if you were to make eye contact your stupid goofy smile would come out and you didn’t want to give Jamil the satisfaction. You could feel his gaze on you and you knew the kind of cocky, smug expression he had.

You bit your lip every time you remembered the kiss and you cursed the boy for making you so uncontrollably giddy.

When you got to him you punched him lightly in the arm and carried on your way. Jamil laughed heartily and caught up with your stride.

“I hope you’re looking forward to tomorrow’s library session” He said with a playful tone.

You wrapped your arms around one of his and turned to bury your hot face against his shoulder as you both continued walking.

Even though you were feeling elated you felt like you wanted to run back to your room to roll around on your bed to calm yourself. What face were your making when he kissed you? Was he expecting you to kiss him back as hard as he did? Did you embarrass yourself at all beforehand?

You peeked up to look at Jamil and he had the cutest little smile, and maybe even a light tinge of colour on his cheeks.

The warmth and happiness you felt from his expression calmed you down a little and brought back your own smile.

Maybe Grim should eat through all his cans of tuna more often.

———

Thank you for reading!

(NB: what is English 😭😭)

[thexanwillshine]

internal travesties | levihan

pairing: levi x hange ; minor: eren x mikasa 

genre:��romance/ fluff / slight angst

warnings: contains spoilers for chapters 105, 115. and 132

chapters: 1. 2. 3 (final).  

words: 4,648

summary: 

Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance. She didn't look particularly special, but she entered (no, infiltrated) his cafe with bright eyes and all smiles, making him feel things that he never even felt before. Which was, in his opinion, completely unacceptable. Levi Ackerman hated feeling out of control. 

[Reincarnation! AU] [Levihan] [Minor Eremika]

crosspostings: AO3. 

note: i hope you guys enjoy ehehe <3 thank u for reading and i hope to see u all again very soon.

His memories feel like a travesty. 

Ever since he was young, Levi couldn’t help but feel as if there was something missing in his life. 

His brushes with insomnia gave him headaches no painkiller could cure. It was on those days that Levi’s mind went wild and his thoughts plagued him, ridding him of the sweet drug called sleep. Lonely nights like that made the man feel tired, as his brain was constantly exhausting itself in its search for answers he didn’t even know the questions to. 

On this particular cold night, he gives in to need, and chooses to contemplate his life. 

Levi could say that he had a fairly normal childhood. Even with his sweet darling of a mother, an invisible father, and his gloomy, sort-of sister, it had been rather uneventful. Technically, Mikasa was his cousin, but since they had grown up together she might as well have been his younger sister. Mikasa’s mother (his aunt) had asked if Mikasa could stay with his family when she turned ten so that the young girl could get a good school in the city. His mother, saint that she was, obviously agreed. 

He could remember a time when the young girl would always drag him to supervise her and her friends (all of whom were taller than Levi now, much to his chagrin) to pacify the concerns of Levi’s mother. As Mikasa matured, the young girl stopped making him constantly accompany her, since his mother trusted Mikasa enough to take care of herself at this point. In fact, Levi thought she would probably go out of her way just to get him not to come. Except when he would drive her. That darned girl thinks that he’s her own personal chauffeur.

While the two had their grievances, they maintained an understanding between them. Levi inherited his mother’s cafe called The Underground, and Mikasa went on to continue her parents’ legacy in the field of biology, choosing to major in botany like her mother. Sometimes, whenever Mikasa didn’t have midterms or finals or any exam that could potentially ruin her future, he would allow her to help out in the cafe once in a while. That way, she could technically say that she had experience working. It also gave Levi a good excuse to have extra hands. For Mikasa, it was a good way to earn money even though she didn’t really need to; Levi would give her cash whenever she would ask. 

Contrary to popular belief, Levi did have friends. There was Eld, the assistant manager he knew he could rely on because of his leadership skills. Oruo, who worked better as a cashier because of his case of Constant Threat of Tongue-Biting Which Could Lead To Bleeding . As much as possible, Levi wanted to keep him away from food. Gunther, who’s speed in the kitchen was god-tier. Then there was Petra, a young, budding barista whose skills were definitely commendable. 

Granted, all his friends were people who worked for him in the restaurant. There were several kids who worked for him part-time but they were more his responsibility rather than friends. Most of them were Mikasa’s friends, so at least there was someone accountable for them. Although, he had to admit they were very reliable.  

There’s also that one lawyer who had taken it upon himself to consistently come every morning to the cafe. He said his name was Erwin, and Levi would be lying if he told himself he wasn’t weirded out by the man. The blonde had stared him down on several occasions, as if waiting for him to say something. Once, when Levi couldn’t take it anymore, he asked him directly. 

“Any particular reason why you’re always staring openly at me?” Levi had asked rudely, scrunching his eyebrows at the man in confusion. 

Erwin shook his head in response before introducing himself, even handing the coffee owner a business card. Levi stared at the business card, wondering why in the world he would need a lawyer (god forbid he ever needs one, he’d rather not go to court over anything, really). Erwin Smith, the card had read. “You’ll see me here often since my father works close by.” 

After that, Erwin had frequented the cafe and even made friends with his employees. Petra says he tips very generously. Oruo thinks Erwin can do better. Levi doesn’t necessarily give a flying fuck, but he can’t help but feel as if he’d met or at least seen Erwin somewhere before. 

Levi goes on with his somewhat boring life. Once in a while, whenever he was feeling particularly sociable, he would agree to a cup of tea with Erwin and engage in random conversations about his job and his life. The man was not a pain to talk to. In fact, the entire time they talked, Levi was nagged by a certain familiarity he couldn’t quite place. He felt as if he knew the blond on a much deeper level than he was aware of. He shrugs it off. 

Sometimes, Levi would accompany his friends for drinks (but would never drink any, he hated the taste of alcohol with a passion). Apart from his sudden bouts of social energy,  the man thought his life to be ritualistic, monotone, and organized. He wasn’t complaining, of course; this is exactly what Levi wanted. Sometimes, however, whenever he would be driving home alone with the silence nagging his ears . . . Levi would feel an emptiness emerging from the back of his mind, clouding his thoughts until dawn.

His mind flew back to Erwin as he remembered the lawyer asking him a question in passing on a particularly slow work day. He had been clearing the table beside the blond when Erwin spoke. “Don’t you ever feel as if all your life, you’ve been waiting for something to happen? Like all these good things come to you but nothing really ever feels enough?”

Levi had glared at him, because yes , he definitely has . That every waking moment of his life he could never feel truly satisfied . He chose to maintain his silence. 

To Erwin’s credit, he dropped the subject and smiled softly, as if he could sense Levi’s discomfort. “Sorry,” Erwin said, chuckling. The man waved a wad of papers in his hand. “This case has been particularly mind-provoking, so I’ve been randomly spouting out philosophical questions to anyone who would be willing to listen.” 

“Good luck,” Levi replied shortly, taking the tray of empty cups in his hands and walking towards the staff room. 

Many a time, Levi had wondered how much of him was an open book. He liked to think that he was a pretty closed-off, ambiguous kind of guy. But Erwin had pretty much hit the mark—Levi had indeed settled, but he wasn’t sure if he was satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Erwin wasn’t the only blond who spouted weird questions out of the blue.

Levi had known Armin Arlert since he was a young boy. He remembers glaring at bullies who would tease and mock the poor child, before taking Mikasa and her rowdy group of troublemakers to another playground. Levi knew Mikasa was a reserved child, but it seemed as if her maternal instincts kicked in whenever she could sense Armin was in danger. While the young girl’s other friends were strong enough to defend themselves from the bullies whenever they were the target, Mikasa had long established that people shouldn’t even dare cross her (or her even scarier big “brother”). 

When Armin turned fifteen, his gait changed. Gone was the boy who would whimper as quiet as possible whenever he felt threatened. He still maintained his love for reading, but Armin suddenly adopted a mature mindset that seemed as if he possessed knowledge well-beyond his years. For a time, Mikasa would express her worry for the teenager in her and Levi’s rare conversations. Apparently, Armin had cried and launched himself on both Mikasa and Eren, holding them close to him as if the three of them had spent years apart from each other . . . when in fact, it was the middle of the day. 

Levi was no stranger to Armin’s inquisitive questions about topics the dark-haired man knew nothing of (and didn’t bother to care about). Hence, he thought that the young blond’s strange inquiries couldn’t get any stranger. 

Obviously, Levi was wrong. 

“Levi, do you ever feel as if this life was a second chance? Like, as if right now, you’re you, but not really. Like, there was once a past you, who was different from you now, but the you now is still you. So reincarnation, basically. Or maybe we’re in a different dimension and there are others out there who’re living a different life from us. That I’m just one Armin out of multiple Armins in the universe.” Armin’s questions and speculations came in rapid-fire as he leaned on the counter. “What do you think?”

“I think you need to stop reading science fiction ‘cos it messes with your brain,” Levi responded as he finished counting the coins in the cash register. “Unlike you, I don’t bother with the intricacies of life, brat.” Armin’s inquisitive expression fell into one of dismay as he frowned. 

Levi sighed inwardly as he closed the cash register. “I think the idea of reincarnation makes more sense compared to multiple universes though.”

Armin immediately brightened up when he looked at Levi, before diverting his gaze at Mikasa in what seemed like triumph. “I told you so!” he chirped gleefully. Thanks Levi.” 

Mikasa didn’t reply, but her scalding glare told Levi everything she wanted to say:  ‘Don’t encourage him!’ Levi rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen, shutting out Eren’s excited questions (“Do you really think we had past lives? Do you think I was cool? Oh my god, what if I was a knight! Or a dinosaur? Or a giant hu—”) effectively by closing the door. 

Levi did give Armin’s questions some thought. There were indeed days wherein he felt out of place in his own skin, like he was living a life meant for someone else. There were also days when he would feel as if he was grasping at threads, trying to figure out what in his life wasn’t in place. However, the concept of reincarnation was something that seemed implausible to him especially because he didn’t believe in the divine. 

The dark-haired man closed his eyes, placing his arm on his forehead as he shifted underneath the  covers. The clock read 15:06, which meant that he had already been awake for a grand total of 23 hours. At four in the morning, he would need to take over the night shift, which Eld was currently in charge of. 

Once again, he is faced with a dilemma: (1) try to get some sleep so that he can get a bit of rest and risk giving Eld overtime, or (2) suck it up and accept the fact that this day was going to be another one of his 48-hour days.

The answer was obvious. Levi was not the type of person to let others suffer for his mistakes. So he grit his teeth, pushed himself out of bed, and headed to his bathroom to take a hot shower.

He really needs to get some rest. 

When Levi exited the bathroom thirty minutes later, dressed and ready for work, someone was knocking on his door. Levi scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. It was nearly four in the morning. With his mother in Sina for a conference and Mikasa due to wake at six in the morning, there should be no one in the house to bother him at the ungodly hour. 

He opened the door and was proven wrong when his sight was greeted by Mikasa. She had puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and shivering lips. The poor girl held her black scarf close to herself as if it would help ease whatever pain she was feeling. Levi blinked at the sight, unsure of what to say. He tried anyway. 

“What’s wrong, brat? Mosquito get stuck in your ear again?” Mikasa shook her head . Levi sighed as he noted that she didn’t give him her traditional glare. “Need to talk about it?” 

She opened her mouth and closed it again in response. She does this thrice before Levi interrupts her. 

“ Oi, fishface, is it a yes or a no?” 

Mikasa shook her head a second time. 

“Well, brat, how do you expect me to help you?” Levi pushed his door open and let his cousin in. Mikasa entered clumsily (different from her usual composed self, he noted) and sat at the edge of his bed. 

Levi glanced at his glowing clock before choosing to text Eld. He’s going to be late and Eld would have to work overtime. Levi wasn’t entirely sure if he’d make it to the cafe by four (even though it was just a five minute drive) given the status of his crying sister. 

Mikasa rarely cried, and even if she did, she wouldn’t go to him of all people. She’d most likely sneak out to go visit Eren or Armin, which is nothing the young girl hadn’t done before. So, Levi decided, just for today, he would ask Eld for this one favor in order to offer his own personal brand of comfort to his cousin and exist with her as she lamented (not like he can say much to comfort her, anyway). 

He successfully got a reply from Eld, who had agreed to cover the overtime. The assistant manager relayed a bit of concern from Petra, who mentioned that it was very “unlike boss” to show up to work late. Levi was about to send a message informing the two of his personal matters when Mikasa spoke up. 

“You don’t . . . remember anything, do you Captain?” 

“Hah?” Levi asked, half his focus on his phone as he tapped the send button. “Remember what?” 

Mikasa glared at the floor as if begging it to swallow her whole. She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, and buried half of her face behind the dark scarf she was sporting. Offhandedly, Levi wondered when was the last time she washed that thing. He should probably remind Mikasa after her breakdown. 

“Armin wasn’t lying, you know.”

Confused as ever, he raised an eyebrow. Is she going through a phase? Levi wondered, his mouth set in a grim line. “About what?”

She spoke to the floor and not really at him. “About the past. The past lives, I mean. Reincarnation, and all that.” 

If Levi had been confused before, he was even more confused now. 

“I can’t talk to you about it,” Mikasa continued, holding her arms closer to her. “No matter how much I try, the words don’t—no, won’t come out.” She let out a sigh, before looking up at Levi, who was already feeling kind of guilty as he wasn’t able to give her much help. 

“Then don’t force yourself to talk if it’s hard for you to, you can just go over it next time,” Levi offered, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the clock. I really am bad at this , he thought. 

 Mikasa shook her head for the third time that night. “It’s much harder than you think.” She paused and straightened up, inhaling sharply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. “It seems it doesn’t work like that. I need to talk to Armin. Can you drive me?”

Levi had no idea what in the world it was and why it doesn’t work like that . Given the complexity of the situation—mostly due to the fact that he was complete shit at giving her help, advice, or anything she needed emotionally, really—he made no attempts to complain about her request to chauffeur her. 

The young girl asked him nicely after all . Maybe she really wasn’t feeling well. 

He nodded. “Don’t you want to get dressed first? You look like a mess.” He scrunched his nose at her scarf, “Also, when’s the last time you washed that thing? That might be really dir—” 

Levi didn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because Mikasa had thrown the scarf straight up to his face. His eye twitched in annoyance as he plucked the scarf out of his head. He shoved it in Mikasa’s hands. She was lucky the scarf didn’t smell bad, otherwise he would’ve definitely confiscated it and thrown it in the washing machine. “Damn it, brat, learn how to wash your clothes. I’m telling mom.” 

“Blabbermouth, squealer, mama’s boy, ” Mikasa retorted, standing up. 

Levi rolled his eyes before grabbing his keys from his bedside table and turning off his lamp. Mikasa had already stepped outside, her black scarf wrapped around her neck. Levi closed his door when he exited, moving in step with the younger woman. She was already calling Armin, and Levi knew that the blond would be ready to accept company when he heard Armin’s sleepy voice respond from the other line. Levi didn’t bother listening, and instead chose to open the car door and wait inside the vehicle (a black four-seater that his invisible father had left him) as Mikasa conversed with Armin. 

She entered after about ten minutes, slamming the car door shut. Levi pulled out of their driveway smoothly. 

“Drop by the cafe if you and Armin need to eat,” Levi said shortly as Mikasa put on her seatbelt. 

“Is it on the house?” 

“Of course, I’ll dock it from your pay.”

“Some definition of ‘on the house'   you have.” 

The ride takes about twenty minutes without traffic, since Armin lived a bit further away. The two Ackermans sat without conversing, both of them listening to the soft sound of music from the radio. 

It’s Levi who broke the silence. “Oi, brat, this isn’t necessarily my business, but shouldn’t you also be calling your other snot-nosed friend?”

The reply came quicker than he had anticipated. “No.” 

She doesn’t elaborate, so Levi left it at that. Perhaps, he thought, they fought, and that's why the dark-haired woman was acting weird. Either way, he knew it was none of his business. 

They arrive at Armin’s house at about five minutes ‘till five in the morning. Mikasa opened the door, muttering a sincere “thank you” as she left. She closed the door behind her softly, enough to lock it but not loud enough to wake the neighbors. Mikasa gave her older cousin a brief wave and turned around swiftly to Armin’s doorstep before he could even nod in acknowledgement. 

At least he wasn’t the only Ackerman who was bad at showing emotions. 

Armin waves enthusiastically from the doorway, and Levi (unenthusiastically) raises his hand in reply. He then pulled back from the driveway and headed to his cafe. 

The drive towards The Underground  is short and uneventful. He had already texted Eld in advance that he would be arriving. He brought his car into the parking lot and headed to his designated parking spot, beside the PWD parking near the entrance. To his surprise, there was a car already in his spot. It was a blue pick-up truck that looked worse for wear. 

Levi’s eye twitched in mild annoyance. 

He knew he couldn’t do anything about it since there was no sign that that specific spot was for him (he really, really should do that). Since dawn was normally for students cramming their papers, all of whom didn’t need cars since the university was just walking distance from the cafe, Levi had assumed he wouldn’t need the sign anymore. Clearly, he was wrong. 

Levi sighed before deciding to park two spots beside the pick-up truck. 

Upon entering the cafe, he noticed that there were only about three customers. One was a regular: a blonde girl whose drinks were surrounded by a pile of papers. Her highlighting was careless and panicky. Beside her sat an auburn-haired girl, who was the second customer. Compared to the blonde, she was already lost in sleep.  

The third customer was someone he never really encountered in his shop before. From where he entered, Levi could see that she was wearing a thick pair of glasses, and that her hands were shoved in a tan coat. She was incredibly tall, and sported dark boots and leggings. The woman was currently standing in front of the counter, her eyes focused on the menu splayed out on the bright screens above the coffee machines. 

Levi passed her without giving it much thought, swiftly entering the staff room. Eld grinned at him when he entered, removing his apron and placing it on the rack. “Good morning boss,” he greeted, as Levi grabbed his own apron and swung it over his head. 

“There’s a customer outside,” Levi said nonchalantly. 

Eld nodded in recognition. “Yeah, she comes here every three a.m. on the dot. Leaves before you arrive, so I understand why you’re not familiar with her. Don’t worry though, she looks like she’s thinking now, but she’s going to order the same thing. Make sure to get her a large, sweet cream cold brew nitro.” 

Levi nodded as Eld checked out, bidding him goodbye. Levi dumped his car keys in his locker before he heard the bell ring from outside. That tall girl was probably ready to order her americano. 

He exited the door, standing in front of her and checking to see if Eld properly set the cashier for his shift. Levi nodded to himself in approval, as Eld had done his job spectacularly (as always). In about an hour, Jean Kirchstein and Marco Bott would be taking over the cashier while he cleaned the store. He barely glanced at the customer as he mechanically tapped his fingers rhythmically on the register, letting out the practiced “May I take your order?” 

“Good morning! Could I please have a large sweet cream cold brew nitro? To-go, please!” 

Something about her voice made Levi’s blood run cold. He raised his head to look at her. She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with excitement. Her bangs are parted in the middle of her forehead and the rest of her hair is tied in a lazy half-bun. By the greasy state of her auburn hair, it looked like she hadn’t bothered bathing. 

For a reason Levi couldn’t explain (he would later argue that it was because he was so surprised to see that someone could live their life while having hair so dirty ), his body grew stiff as he stared at her, transfixed. 

The girl tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking at him. “Is my order not available? That’s okay, you know, I can just order something else—” 

Levi interrupted her tirade as he regained control over his body once again, swallowing the odd feeling gnawing at his gut. “Name?” he managed to choke out, trying his best to appear calm. For some strange reason, his heart decided that now was the time for palpitations. 

“Oh!” the girl said in surprise, “right, I haven’t seen you here at this hour before! Just put in Hange!”

His hands moved automatically to input her order. There really is something so . . . familiar about her, but Levi just couldn’t seem to put his finger on it. It reminded him of when he had first met Erwin. He felt like he had seen her from a dream long forgotten in the recesses of his mind, begging to be released and remembered. 

There’s just one problem: he knows he’s never seen this girl in his life before. After all, someone who never washed their hair would make a very distinct impression on him. 

“That’ll be four dollars,” Levi said through grit teeth, annoyed at himself for failing to maintain his own composure. Hange nodded fervently as she placed her five dollar bill on the counter. 

“Keep the change!” she declared enthusiastically, before peering at him in concern. “You’re okay, right?” Hange asked. “Sorry, early mornings really aren’t for everyone, huh?”

He remained silent, placing the bill inside the cash register and shutting it close. Levi didn’t bother answering her question as he allowed his mind to get lost in thought. He continued the patterns of service he had long since memorized, his body on autopilot. 

Levi was always in control of his mind, his body, his spirit . . . so why?  There were a million questions racing through his head. ‘ Who the fuck is this girl? Damn, my heart feels like it’s going to pop out of my chest. This isn’t normal.’ 

He stole a glance at her lanky form, hoping that she wasn’t at the counter anymore and had taken a seat somewhere in the cafe. To his disappointment, she was still standing there, watching him make the drink. When she saw him look at her, she gave him a tiny wave. 

Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance. She didn’t look particularly special, but she entered (no, infiltrated) his cafe with bright eyes and all smiles, making him feel things that he never even felt before. 

Which was, in his opinion, completely unacceptable. Levi Ackerman hated feeling out of control. 

He poured the drink into a tall cup expertly before placing it on top of the counter. “Hange,” he called, her name escaping his lips smoothly, as if he had said the syllables a million times before. 

Levi frowned, sensing the beginnings of a migraine in the middle of his eyebrows, so he pinches the area gently, as if the action could relieve some of the pain. 

Hange walked over to the counter, looking a bit concerned. “Hey, Levi,” she started, and the man visibly flinched. Why did the sound of his name from her voice trigger a barrage of emotions he’s never even bothered to feel before?

Levi dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He was almost about to ask ‘how the fuck do you know me’ and ‘do I fucking know you’ before the rational part of his brain interjected that she had probably seen his name tag. 

His silence gave Hange permission to speak again, so she continued. “Do you have a headache?” Without waiting for him to respond, she smiled. “I got just the thing! I’ll leave you this gift as my thanks for your service!” And with those words, she placed a painkiller on the counter as she gently took her drink. “Take it so you can have a good morning, okay? 

Levi watched her actions cautiously. 

She winked. “Oh, and don’t take it with tea.”  

Levi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at this point. The words Do I know you? burst in his mind and died at the edges of his lips. Instead, he muttered a clipped “thank you” to her small token of appreciation. 

She grinned. “Take care, Levi!” 

And with those words, she left, leaving Levi to wonder out loud, “what the fuck just happened?” 

The body remembers what the mind has forgotten.  

[sheerfreesia007]

Down

Title: Down

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 2,979

Warnings: Fluff, Insecurity, Mutual Pining, Idiots being idiots

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​

Author Notes: I feel like this a little bit all over the place. I was inspired by the song “Down” by 5th Harmony. And I wanted the reader to show Marcus how much she sees him as a good partner. I don’t know if I’ve done this but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Feedback is much apprecaited!

Gif Credit: @pascalitopike​

         It was another late night in the office. You were sitting in one of the conference rooms with files and papers strewn about around you as you worked. Steady footsteps sounded from behind you and you didn’t bother turning around as you heard the soft sigh.

         “You alright Pike?” you asked as you poured over another page of information. The agent that had joined your department in D.C. about two months ago had quickly shown that he was leadership material and had risen up in the department. You hadn’t even been upset when he had slid into the leadership role for your department that you were aiming for; he was that much a leading force that you couldn’t argue with the promotion.

         But something did surprise you about the agent. As much as he was a driving force as a leader he still had insecurities. Rather large ones about his ability in the romance department. Which you found confusing as since you found the man to be as handsome as someone could be. His dark chestnut hair fell over his face looked soft and made you want to run your fingers through it. His warm chocolate eyes were so expressive if you actually looked at him, they mostly held kindness and happiness but sometimes you’d seen them hold anger and determination. They had also held sadness and uncertainty in them, and it was those emotions that you picked up on that made you want to rub a hand across his back and lean in whispering to him that everything would be alright.

         Marcus Pike had slowly but surely wormed his way into your life and taken up residence in not only your daily life but your mind and heart. But while you had started to grow feelings for him you knew that he didn’t reciprocate them towards you and you had slowly become accepting of that fact. It hurt, fuck did it hurt but you were more than happy to have him as a close friend and confidante. That was the best thing about Marcus he gave his all in any situation whether it be at work or in out of work. He was a man who gave in 100% effort in everything he did and that was commendable.

         “Yeah I’m alright.” He said dejectedly and you looked over at him as he came to sit next to you in one of the chairs. You watched him silently for a minute as he linked his hands together and rested them over his stomach as he leaned back in the chair. Something was bothering him, and you knew after working with him for months now that his mind would be elsewhere while you tried to work. “How’s the case coming along?” he asked softly as he nodded at the table.

         “It’s coming. I’m slowly working through the paperwork the local P.D. gave us. It’s just a lot to get through. Some reports they had pertain to our case others not so much. It’s just having to read through all of them to figure out if they’re pertinent.” You explained with a wave of your hand at all of your scattered papers.

         “I can help.” He said easily as he leaned forward and reached for a stack of papers. You quickly slapped his hand away and he looked over at you surprised.

         “Nah-uh. First of all that’s the not relevant pile I’ve got going.” You explained pointing your finger at the pile he tried going for.

         “How is any of this in order?” he asked in awe as he took in the random piles around your seat. You frowned over at him and huffed out an irritated breath.

         “Seriously Pike? We’ve been working together for almost three months. I would hope by now that you know the method to my madness.” You griped at him with a scowl and furrowed eyebrows. You didn’t want to admit it but it did hurt that he didn’t seem to understand the way you worked after all this time.

         “You’re right I’m sorry. I do know how you work I’m just distracted.” He admitted softly with a sigh.

         “Which brings me to point number two. You’re not helping me until we work out whatever it is that’s bothering you. You wouldn’t be helping me anyway if you’re distracted with whatever issue is going on with you.” You said sincerely as you looked over at him kindly. Marcus turned his eyes away from you with a guilty look. “Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly as you turned your chair to face him. Marcus didn’t look at you and didn’t say anything to you making you sigh softly. “Look if you don’t wanna talk about it tonight that’s fine but go home. You’re no good to me distracted. And I gotta get through at least a quarter of these before tomorrow.” You said honestly as you looked back at the table of papers.

         “Do you think I’m attractive?” Marcus asked suddenly and the sudden change of topic made your head whip to stare at him flabbergasted. You felt your pulse rise and your heart started to race in your chest.

         “Excuse me?” you asked confused. Did he know? Fuck he knew didn’t he? How did he find out? Fuck this was horrible. You were going to have to transfer weren’t you? Your mind was racing with worst case scenarios and you could feel your breath catch in your throat.

         “Do you find me attractive?” he asked again and you noticed that he wasn’t looking at you but down at his hands which were back in his lap. “I mean would I make a good boyfriend?” he asked suddenly sound so insecure that your heart shattered in your chest. Who hurt him like this? You knew he was divorced and had dated some women that didn’t work out but lately you hadn’t heard if he was dating again. “I just-I mean I went on a date last night.” He explained.

         You darted your eyes over to him and felt your body sag in disappointment. Your heart that had slowly been piecing itself back together was crumbling again in your chest at his words. What you wouldn’t give to take this man on a date.

         “And I thought it was going great you know? I took her to nice restaurant; we talked for hours during dinner. We shared some interests. And I didn’t think I was too eager during the date but at the end of it she told me-“ he explained softly before cutting himself off.

         You reached a hand over and placed it on his bicep softly. You watched as his head turned to look at your hand and then over towards you. Smiling kindly at him you nodded your head in gesture for him to continue.

         “She said that it wasn’t going to work out. That I wasn’t what she was looking for.” He finished so quietly that you barely heard him. He dropped his head forward in defeat and you let him a moment to feel sorry for himself and then you tightened your hand on his bicep.

         “Fuck her.” You said lowly but in a firm tone. Marcus’ head jerked up and looked at you with wide eyes filled with shock. “I’m serious. Fuck her.” You reiterated firmly nodding your head. Marcus moved like he was going to start defending her but you lifted your hand from his bicep in front of him in a stop motion. “If you start defending her I’m going to punch you.” You warned and Marcus stopped instantly staring at you with wide eyes but he shut his mouth silently.

         Standing from your chair you began to pace the floor in anxious agitation in your bare feet. It had been hours ago when you had taken your heels off and the feel of the carpet under your toes seemed to ground you enough to begin talking again. Marcus just sat there staring at you with wide eyes as he tracked your pacing.

         “Seriously Pike? Do you really feel like you’re not attractive or wouldn’t be a good boyfriend all because some woman said it wouldn’t work out after one date?” you began your one sided tirade as you continued to pace. You swung back to face him and threw a shrewd look at him. “If you need constant validation that you’re a good man and would make a wonderful partner then you’re not the man I’ve been working with.” You said harshly and continued your pacing again without looking over at him. “Look dating sucks. There’s so much pressure to make a good impression on the other person to get that second date that it’s no wonder that people give up on dating after a few fails. Take it from me I know. But seriously? Nothing worth having comes easy.” You said empathically as you paced away from him.

         “Did you just quote one of those inspirational quotes to me?” Marcus asked softly in disbelief from behind you. You whirled around and glared at him as you began stalking over to him.

         “It fits this issue doesn’t it?” you asked almost coldly. Why were you feeling so angry about this? Why were you so determined to make him believe he was worth the effort?

         “I guess it does. But it still doesn’t ease any of my worry that I would make a good partner to someone.” Marcus says almost dismissively with a wave of his hand.

         “Well fuck you too Pike.” You snapped at him and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes widened slightly but then narrowed on him as he jerked his head back to you. “What do you call us then? We’re partners aren’t we?”

         “Yeah but that’s different. We’re partners at work.” He tried to reason and you glared at him until he stopped talking.

         “So you being a good partner at work doesn’t matter?” you asked lowly and watched as Marcus watched you discerningly. “You’re not only a good man you’re a great partner. You have the brains to figure out most of the crimes that we come across. You not only know how to firm and commanding of our team but you also know how to kind and emphatic towards the victims that we deal with.” You begin listing off to him to try and show him that he was worth it. “You would make an excellent boyfriend Pike. You’re willing to be there for your partner no matter what, you’ve shown that not only to me but also to the rest of our team. You put people before yourself almost to a fault.”

         You begin pacing again feeling like you’re on a roll explaining to him that he is a good partner and how much a catch he is.

         “And yeah you’re attractive. You’ve got this whole suave without trying thing going for you. And while I give you shit for that patchy scruff on your face you call a beard it fits your face and makes you look ruggedly handsome.” You say as you wave your hands in the air around you while you continue to pace. You don’t notice Marcus sitting up straighter in his seat as he turns his head to you. “You got nice looking hair that looks like all you did was roll out of bed and run a hand through it. It’s so soft looking too. Do you know how many women would kill to have effortless hair like you? Millions.” You don’t realize you’re starting to ramble now and Marcus is watching you with a contemplative look on his face. “Your eyes are a pretty chocolate color that have hints of gold in them that just make them shine. And your nose while I think it’s your least favorite feature. If I remember correctly you once told me you thought it was too big. It’s prominent yeah but it fits you, it’s a strong nose that you shouldn’t be ashamed of.” You continue on.

         Marcus is watching you now and he’s starting to feel a little hot under the collar at all of your compliments. That conversation had only been in passing as you and your team had all sat around this conference table just shooting the shit. Talking about things you would’ve changed about yourself if you could. Marcus remembers that he had mentioned he’d change his nose because it was an insecurity, and if he remembers you hadn’t partaken in that conversation easily dodging the question. But you had remembered that conversation from a month ago.

         Looking back over at you Marcus tuned back into your rambling as he watched to speak passionately about him feeling insecure, when you obviously thought he shouldn’t.

         “You’ve got so much to bring to a relationship and maybe one day you will find someone who actually sees that for themselves. And it’s a pity that you don’t see that either. Because I see it.” You conclude with a soft sigh. Marcus watches as you stand next to your chair resting a hand on the table and drop your head between your shoulders. You see it. Marcus tilts his head as he watches you take in a breath and shake your head slightly before you sit back into your chair. “Go home Pike I’ll finish up here and make sure the lights are turned off.” You say wearily without looking over at him. You see it. Marcus furrows his eyebrows slightly.

         He’s thinking back on all the memories he has with you. The way you would grow quiet when he would talk about his dates that he would infrequently go on. Or the way you would watch his six whenever you went into the field together. The way you always pick up coffee for him if you knew he had been working late the night before. Marcus darts his eyes over to you and sees you pouring over another sheet of paper in your hands not paying any mind to him. Your hair is pulled back away from your face and your eyes are darting around the page as your mouth purses into an adorable pout.

         He wonders if you’ve seen the way he takes care of you as well. The way he’s always checked in on you during the work day. The way he’ll always make sure you’ve eaten and that you don’t stay too late at the office. He wonders if you’ve seen the way his hand would find the small of your back when you’re out in the field together working together. Or the way he likes keeping you close just so he knows you’re safe. He wonders if you’ve seen the way his heart beats harder when he’s alone with you. Or the way he had to pull his hands back when he wants to touch you. He wonders if you’ve seen the way he’s fallen hard for you and dates other women to try to distract him from you. And he wonders if you’ve seen the way he doesn’t talk about those dates because he’s seen that it upsets you.

         “How long have you seen it?” he asks suddenly and you’re jolting in surprise. He grins softly wondering if you had completely forgotten he was there.

         “What?” you ask confused as you squint your eyes at him in that way he knows means you’re trying to figure out his angle.

         “How long have you seen that I would make a good partner?” he asks softly and watches as your eyes dart over to him and wave your hand dismissively.

         “Since I’ve met you.” You said nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

         “And you didn’t think to mention anything whenever I’ve brought up my other dates?” he asked softly.

         “Marcus, what was I supposed to say? That I think all the women you’ve dated are idiots and weren’t good for you? I’m pretty sure I have said that before.” You gripped at him with a tired huff. “If they can’t see that you’re a good looking compassionate man then their loss. You need to find someone who can see that and more about you.”

         “Like you?” he asks almost breathlessly. Your face darts up to him and he sees the hurt in your face, but he doesn’t understand why you’re feeling hurt.

         “Don’t patronize me.” You say lowly and Marcus shakes his head.

         “I’m not, you said you see it. And obviously you have seen it for some time. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks persistently now.

         “Yeah that would’ve been a great conversation Marcus. Let me just tell my coworker I’m in love with him and that’s he’s too blind and stupid to notice it.” You say sarcastically. It’s quiet for a span of time when you whisper out. “Fuck.”

         Marcus’ eyes are dancing delightedly across your frame as you slump forward resting your head on the table with a thud. He chuckles softly and shakes his head at your antics.

         “Well if I’m blind and stupid so are you.” He quips back to you and grins as you turn your head to look at him with a scowl.

         “What are you talking about?” you grouse at him with that scowl and furrowed eyebrow look you give him when he’s annoying you.

         “I didn’t notice that you were in love me but you also didn’t notice that I fallen in love with you either sweetheart.” He bantered to you with a grin. Your eyes widen and your lips part with a soft pant.

         “For real life?” you ask breathlessly as you lift your head for the table and Marcus chuckles softly at you as he moves closer to you.

         “For real life.” He says lowly as his hands cup your face and bring you closer as he presses his lips to yours.

[mojofun]

Not My Type (Sirius Black x Reader)

Hello earthlings :) This is an entry for This is an entry for a writing challenge I’m taking part in, launched by the wonderful @obsessedwithrandomthings​ for getting 500 followers; congrats again :) The prompt I chose this time was <<You look so good in my shirt>>. I can just imagine our dear Sirius using lame one-liners when flirting with girls, and this is the result. P.S. I’ve been listening to Motionless in White lately, so this thing is packed with lyrics references. Besides, Sirius looks like the kind of guy who would totally dig that style of music so I thought “why not?” I hope you enjoy it!

Gif not mine, credits to @snuffles-padfoot07

<<Remus?>>

No answer

<<Remus. Remus Lupin>>

Still silence

<<Remus John Lupin>>

Still no reply

<<Moony. Moony, Moony, Moony->>

<<WHAT?!>> The taller Marauder ultimately snapped, turning to glare at his bespectacled friend; said friend acted like nothing happened, simply holding up a slip of paper

<<Do you think Lily will like it?>>

Sighing, Remus gave the poem a skim before rolling his eyes

<<Won’t you give the poor girl a moment of reprieve, James?>>

<<Cmon, help a friend in need!>>

<<Why me?>>

<<You always has a way with words>>

A snort came from the opposite side of the room

<<And yet, he still got no date>>

Remus scowled

<<Prongs, why don’t you ask Padfoot then? Merlin knows Y/N loves his idiotic pickup lines>>

Sirius acknowledged the hit, rising from his bed and walking toward his two mates with a strut. Once there, he took James’s poem and read it, nodding in approval

<<Go for it, pal>>

<<What about you, oh great master of poetry?>> Moony teased, still miffed about Sirius’s jab <<How will you annoy your muse today?>>

The shorter male chuckled, smirking mischievously

<<Don’t worry, Moony. I’m very well-prepared>>

<<That’s exactly what worries me>>

              _______

<<Y/N! Y/N!>>

Sirius greeted the H/C girl who’d just walked in the class with her friends. As soon as she saw him, she groaned

<<Oh no>>

<<Come sit by me!>>

Another H/N patted her back soothingly while she face-palmed

<<I think I already know what my boggart’s gonna look like>>

<<Oh love, come on! You don’t need to be afraid of me!>>

<<I’m not scared: now that I think about it, you look like my boggart after I’ve cast Riddiculus>> The female deadpanned.

Sirius was stumped.

Beside him, Janes cackled

<<Your girl’s got sass, Padfoot>>

The other guy could only nod, watching as his crush took a seat as far as possible from him- or tried to: thanks to his distraction, all the other spots were occupied.

That meant she was sitting in the next desk. 

Y/N hoped that she’d successfully quelled the Gryffindor’s idiotic onslaught.

Well, she did... Just for a little while though

<<Such a sharp tongue for someone so pretty, doll>>

<<I also own very sharp blades, Black>> The girl countered, glaring at him <<Do not tempt me>>

<<I knew you couldn’t resist!>> He cackled

<<Yes, my killing instincts are very strong right now>>

The quaint theatre was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, who immediately gave dispositions for the class

<<Very well. Today, you will work in pairs>>

The sentence every student dreaded, especially poor Y/N.

It seemed luck was not on her side that day because, when the professor announced her partner, she was faced with a smug Sirius, grinning from ear to ear

<<You know, my therapist says I’m afraid of commitment. Wanna help me prove em wrong?>>

<<Interesting. I’ve never wanted to commit more>>

<<Really?>>

<<Yes; a murder>> The E/C-eyed student walked away from him, heading toward the fire crab the professor had assigned them

<<Ready to give up, Padfoot?>>

<<Never>>

<<I don’t know whether to commend you on your tenacity or call you foolish>> Remus commented

<<She’s made of fire, but I can handle it. And no, James; I’m not talking about the crab>>

              _______

<<No no no no. Stop right there>>

<<What?>>

<<You need to chop those before feeding the crab>>

<<Oh>>

<<Give them to me>>

Sirius nodded, handing her the food and watching her cut it, slowly and precisely

<<Where have you been all my life?>>

<<Hiding from you>> Y/N replied coolly.

The boy cackled

<<You’re smart, funny, pretty, and you’ve got an insane amount of sass. You’re everything I’m looking for in a girl>>

<<Wow, I’m so lucky>>

It would have been impossible to ignore the sarcasm lacing her words, but Sirius didn’t acknowledge it

<<Would you want to go watch a movie with me this weekend?>>

<<I’ve already seen it>>

<<How can you know?>>

<<You’re asking me out again: I’ve already lived this horror enough to last me a lifetime>>

The older Black brother laughed, shaking his head in amusement

<<Alright, let me try again>>

<<Please no>>

<<Can I take you out on Saturday?>>

<<Sorry, I’m having a headache this weekend>>

<<What?>>

<<Leftovers from the one you’re giving me now>>

But you->>

<<Bitch you’d give a fucking aspirin a headache>> She growled.

Once again, Sirius was at a loss for words. Not only had Y/N just used two swear words in a sentence, but he knew he’d already heard those words somewhere...

<<Wait a second. You listen to Motionless In White?>>

He cried out. The female snorted

<<Are you kidding me? They’re one of my favourite bands>>

<<I like them too>>

Finally, the tension between them seemed to dissipate. Finally, Sirius’s smile was not a smug grin but a real, happy smile.

Finally, Y/N smiled genuinely back at him.

How cliché would it be to say that they felt like they were the only ones in the world at the moment?

(Fire crab aside)

And yet, that exactly how they felt.

It was so exhilarating that Sirius just had to try again

<<Y/N?>>

<<Yes?>>

<<I know the only words that you have for me are give up and get out>> The girl chuckled, prompting him to continue <<but I’m here to stay, forever and always>>

She laughed more. It was not sarcastic or mirthless but a true, joyous laugh

<<You know, you’re not so bad once I get past the smug act>>

<<I feel like that’s the biggest compliment you ever paid me>>

<<You’re probably right, but don’t get ahead of yourself. My killing instinct are not raging right now: let’s keep it that way, shall we?>>

<<I’m ready to bleed to make amends>> He joked. The young woman cachinnated, shoving him playfully

<<You idiot. You’re making it hard not to like you>>

<<That was my objective>>

<<Continue on this road and you might just achieve it>>

<<I will. Besides, I know better than to tease you when you’re chopping stuff with a knife; you warned me>>

Y/N cackled one more time, shaking her head in amusement.

It was an incredibly welcome turn of events.

              _______

Later that day, the two students sat together for lunch in the Great Hall, discussing anything that came to mind. Mostly their favourite bands.

The more they found out they had similar tastes the more engaged they became.

It was quite a sight. It surely left Remus and James gobsmacked: they would have never thought Y/N would actually want to be with Sirius. Didn’t he annoy her as much as James did Lily, with his dumb pickup lines?

Apparently not.

Their surprise grew even more when their friend suddenly asked her on a date- nothing new there.

They’d enjoyed endless attempts by Padfoot to win the heart of the smart and beautiful H/N.

Her answer, on the other hand, was something entirely unexpected

<<Yes, Sirius: I will go on a date with you>>

The black-haired Marauder offered her a huge smile, making her laugh

<<Thank you, darling. You won’t regret it>>

<<I certainly hope not>>

<<I’ll even make sure the place I take you to has sharp knives, so you’ll know what to do if I get too annoying, alright?>>

The girl laughed so hard that tears fell from her eyes

<<You’re an idiot>>

<<Duly noted. But doesn’t this idiot deserve a kiss?>>

Remus and James half expected Y/N’s smile to turn into a frown, and for her to smack him in the face.

Instead, against all odds, she giggled and pulled him closer, pecking his cheek

<<I finally managed to break the cycle>> Sirius beamed. Y/N snorted

<<Not entirely: you’re still an idiot>>

              _______

Idiot or not, the date went so well that they went on a second one, and a third, a fourth... And so on, until they officially became a couple.

Which meant Remus, James and Peter had to deal with their best friend and his girlfriend sucking faces and being all lovey-dovey- though they were sure those two only did it to piss them off.

Well, they’d learnt how to deal with it, as long as it was just holding hands and kissing- making out, actually.

But none of them was ready to find the two of them in bed together in their dorm room

<<What the->>

<<Ah!>> Y/N startled, waking Sirius

<<For crying out loud, guys, won’t you ever knock?>>

The poor friends just stood there, red in the faces while Padfoot rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

Once he’d had enough, he shouted

<<Well, why are you still standing there? Get out, we need to change!>>

Not even Death-Eaters after them would have made the three boys run so fast.

The female chuckled, standing up and smoothing our her boyfriend’s shirt that she was wearing like a dress.

The boy in question stared at her adoringly, pulling her closer

<<You look so good in my shirt>>

He fully expected her to blush, but she smirked and replied cheekily

<<I look even better out of it>>

The wink that came immediately after threw him for a loop

<<Y/N...>>

<<Yes, dear?>>

<<... That’s such a lame pickup line>>

<<Yeah... I stole the idea from you, along with your shirt>>

<<And my heart>> Sirius played along

<<... Just like that, the lame throne is yours again>>

<<But that makes you the queen of lame>> He pointed out.

She didn’t know what to reply to that, so she swatted him on the chest.

He gasped in horror

<<You said you’d never hurt me>>

His joke made her laugh.

When she calmed down enough, she teased

<<You’d still give a fucking aspirin a headache>>

<<Oh, are you an aspirin?>> For old times’ sake, he decided to throw in another lame pickup line <<I’d love to take you every 4-6 hours>>

<<Isn’t that too much for you?>> She teased. He chuckled and pulled her in his lap, pecking her cheek

<<You are too much for me, but I’m never letting you go>>

Despite the light atmosphere, those words held a promise of forever, and they both wanted that.

Their lips met and their hands held the other close.

Once again, as cliché as it may sound, they felt like the only two people in the world

              ___Extra____

Outside the door Remus, James and Peter stood still, looking at each other in confusion and embarrassment

<<How long do you think it will take?>>

<<Well, Wormtail, I don’t know much about Padfoot’s prowess in bed but->>

<<I’m not talking about that, James>> The shorter Marauder spluttered.

Remus sighed

<<That was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. And that’s saying something, taking into account I hang out with you three>>

James cackled

<<Oh, Moony, you wouldn’t->>

<<I have a question>> Peter piped up again

<<What would that be?>>

<<Why are we still standing here?>>

<<Oh, right. We should come back later>>

<<Better yet, let’s change our house>> Remus groused <<Merlin knows I’m never going back there>>

After some silence, James spoke again

<<Hey, Moony, do you think if I used those pickup lines on Lily, she would->>

Professor McGonagall spent the whole day wondering if the incredibly loud sound she heard in the morning was actually a scream, and where it had come from

[scentedsongrebel]

Tyohaar (Festival)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Summary: Celebrating Dussehra in Delhi with the Soldier Trio.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Hindu references, mythological stories, Mentions of Violence, minor angst, Hospitals and injuries, tell me if I miss any....

Word Count: 4290

A/N: Sorry for the delay you guys, I was having a rough few days but I finally have it out. Hope you guys like it.

This from the same universe as my stories Homecoming and Bura na Mano Holi hai but can be read as a stand alone.

Hope you guys like it and sorry for any mistake.

Pictures not mine credit to the owners.

Steve runs his right hand through his hair as he looks over at the crowd gathered around him. The constant buzz was voices hangs around in the air as people keep talking over each other and children burst firecrackers with their parents close by, keeping watch.

You stand near the ice cream stall, Bucky and Sam with their Bionic masks on their faces concealing their true identity, check over the huge menu that the ice cream vendor points at. Your figures visible through a street light under which you all stand in the dark that comes with 9pm.

When you had seen the ice cream cart making its way in your direction, you had just screeched in excitement and ran towards it hastily asking what ice creams each of them would like to have.

The cart itself was impressive with a huge refrigerator attached to wheels at the bottom for the guy manning it to propel it in whatever direction he wants. Several pictures of ice cream bar were hanging off the top of the thing attached to the huge half cylinder shaped roof over the cart and one corner of the cart had several menus hanging off  it. 

After looking at the menu once he had decided on the simple orange bar but after you had exclaimed about this kulfi thing being amazing he decided to try that.

Bucky and Sam were an entire other story. They had to make their own decision and so they had been staring at the god damned thing for the past 5 minutes not reaching any decision.

You had already started licking your kulfi bar and Steve was very close to stop waiting for his friends and just eat the thing himself.

"I really wanna go for this chocolate bar but there are like three of them. Which one do I even go for?"

"The one that you want Sam" Steve grinds his teeth together, having lost all his patience close to 3 minutes ago

"I don't know what I want that's the problem Steve" He sighs and Steve has to take a deep breath as he comes in closer to look at the menu properly

"Well you're allergic to nuts so the fruit and nut option is out"

"What if its the best one?" Bucky pipes in and you nod from beside him, the corner of your lip stained with cream from your kulfi

"It is amazing, the nuts just add perfect crunch to it" Steve closes his eyes in annoyance before opening them again and shooting a glare your way as he wipes the food off your face with a tissue that he picks up from the cart

"Damn it" Sam hits his hand against the pillar supporting the roof of the ice cream cart, winces in pain, shakes his hand, then brings it to his chest to cradle it with the other hand to relieve the pain that punching a metal cart entails

Steve shoots a very very apologetic look the appalled guys way who not so discretely pulls his cart away from the group. With his face heating up, he turns back to his friends, very dedicated to get it over with as fast as he can before he looses all his money in the huge tip he sure is given the guy.

"No ice cream is worth a run to the hospital"

"How do you know it isn't though?" you shoot him a cheeky smile and before he can stop, Steve finds his lips breaking into a curve.

"He would take the chocolate bar" Steve finally decides before there is any more argument and is relieved when Sam seems to accept his decision.

The vendor scrunches his eyebrows together before pointing at the chocolate option on the menu in question and nods his head when Steve gives his confirmation. Steve has to remind himself that not everyone in the world understands English.

"Bucky?"

"I'm gonna go with the butterscotch cornetto"

"Good"

Once the orders are placed and received and Steve has thanked and given extra tip to the vendor for his commendable patience, they head on towards the crowd.

"Its funny how you preach about Sam not eating nuts cause he's allergic but when it comes to you, you don't practice"

"I'm not allergic to anything"

"Oh but you were when you were the small punk" he grins "remember when milk products would give you horrible gas but that didn't stop you" Bucky says through a bite of his ice cream, prompting you to giggle as Steve shoots him a pointed look

"Yeah I grew up and know that's dangerous"

"Oh yeah you grew up alright" Bucky gestures at his body as Steve huffs

You stop a little away from the cluster of people that have gathered in the park and the others follow your lead.

A massive crowd of people has gathered around the park and form a circle around two enormously huge statues of three mustached guys in some kind of robes. They are standing at almost 20 feet tall, one smaller than the other. The statues are tied to the ground by long ropes that keep them erect.

When Sam had curiously asked about the material used to design the appreciable design you had google searched and informed them about how they made use of bamboo sticks to make the frame of the body after which paper and cloth is used to cover it and lastly paint to give the clothes color and add facial features.

The mustache is very important

You had told them after Bucky made a comment about it being his favorite.

"Okay so I just realized this dude in the center has additional heads? On either side" Sam wonders curiously as he looks over at the design

"Those are heads?" Bucky squints as he now watches the statue with a new perspective "Holy shit! Those are heads, I thought that was some jewelry"

Steve scrunches his eyebrows together and looks over at the statue in the middle and there it is. Tiny heads on either side of the face.

"Yeah, why does he have-" Steve points his finger at the subject in question and starts counting "9, no sorry 10. Why does he have 10 heads? And why are they so small?"

You shoot a small grin his way, looking around at the crowd gathered and take his hand in yours

"The heads are supposed to be the same size but I guess it would have messed up the balancing of the statue so they used small sized heads"

"Okay that makes sense but what are we here for" Sam crosses his arms and winces as a screaming child runs by him "And why are we not on the quinjet and half way to New York by now?"

It was a simple reckon mission to check up on the anonymous tip of a possible Hydra base in a small village in North India.

It was just gonna be the Soldier Trio but you gotten really excited when you learned they were going to your home country and decided to join them.

Seeing as it was just a reckon for an anonymous tip that was mailed to Tony and because they really didn't think it would turn out to be anything, Steve had agreed for you to join them on the condition that you stay at the hotel while they finish their job.

The simple mission did turn into a full fledged fight when the base actually did have a fully functioning Hydra facility and one of their guys in civilian clothes recognized Steve and issued a warning. It took hours to take them down with the help from the Indian Army and Thankfully, there were no civilian casualties.

Steve had stopped the rest of the Avengers from getting their as the fight was almost over by the time they got the news and there was no use for them to travel all the way across the world for nothing and so they stayed.

Following that was a stay at an Army hospital where Sam got treated for a broken nose and several severe wounds across his body while Steve and Bucky were pretty much healed completely by the time they got to the hospital.

You had been safe and sound when Steve had rushed to your hotel room in Delhi in panic only to find you watching the news in fear and trying to get in contact. After all this time with the Avengers you knew better than to leave the hotel.

After a teary reunion and you having completely examined him for injuries and kissing the hell out of him, you spent the rest of the week in the hospital, looking over Sam.

Following that was an entire week of diplomatic meetings in New Delhi, explaining to the government officials why a simple reckon turned into the destruction that it did and the presence of Hydra, their aim and all the other stuff that was out of your expertise and so you let it go.

You were the Avengers'' doctor, not an Avenger and sitting alone while the team deals with these things is something you are used to.

So seeing all this you could understand why Sam would be desperate to go home and just sleep for a whole month but when you were on the way to the airport and saw a Rawan statue on the way, there was no way you would have gotten on the plane. Especially when you googled it and realized Dussehra was today.

"We are here because its Dussehra Sam!" You exclaim, your mouth slips in a huge grin as you feel the warmth that always comes with celebrating festivals at home.

"You already said that Y/n" He grits his teeth and you make a face at him

"Its a festival. Don't you think its faith that I'm here and we're free, exactly on Dussehra?"

"I really don't"

"You should" You straighten up the kurta that you had purchased at one of the stores on the way in your festival excitement. Once who had learned you actually were home on Dussehra for the first time in 3 years, there was no stopping you from going all out and buying an Indian outfit from the first store you could find.

It was a dark green 3/4th sleeve Kurta that ran down to just below your knee. It was quiet modest the little fake buttons running down the middle from the closed collar. It was had simple golden design all through it and you had paired it with a designed palazzo that you had honestly fallen in love with. 

(I’m really bad at this description. Sorry)

Before Sam can but in with another comment you motion towards a corner of the park and lead Steve by hand, which he does not resist. You know Sam and Bucky will follow close behind.

When you reach a less crowded corner where you are a little away from the crowd and still have a view of the statues you sit down on the grass, pulling Steve's hand to pull him down with you.

"We really need to sit on the ground?" He asks, clearly knowing the answer

"Its grass Steve and I've seen you in proximity of way worse things like Alien blood and and Hydra goons" You chastise and Steve sighs

Bucky quietly sits down in front of you, patting your shoulder with his metal hand that is disguised with some advance SHEILD tech, before settling down and crossing his legs

"I love that you keep Hydra goons and Alien goo at the same level of gross"

You just shrug as Sam sighs and sits down too and Steve is left with no other option but to follow. The four of you sit around in a small circle with your legs crossed.

"Yeah so Dussehra" You rub your hands together "I did not want to have to scream for Sam in all that noise"

You refer to the loud, screaming children that were making it hard to talk at the place that you guys previously stood at.

"What do you mean for Sam?"

"We got super hearing Pal, we can hear her even if she whispers" Steve squeezes his shoulder and Sam swats his hand away, licking quickly at the corner of his ice cream that starts to melt and fall down.

"Yeah so whatever" You pull the attention back to yourself

"Today is Dussehra" You start to explain "It is the Hindu festival that signifies the victory of good over evil.

See years ago Lord Ram was the King of Ayodhya, he is one of the human birth of Lord Vishnu, one of the three major Hindu gods. And he was sent on a 14 year exile because of a promise his father made to his step mother"

"She a villain?" Sam buts in and you shake your head

"She loved him like her own son. Lord Ram had two step mothers Kaikeyi and Sumitra and his birth mother was Kausalya. He was the son of King Dasharath and he had three brothers Laxman, Bharat and Shatrugan. They were a very close knit family"

"Then why did she send him on an exile?"

"She got carried away. My mom always says that it was the part that she had to play to take Lord Ram to his destiny. He was God, he was supposed to accomplish the mission he had for this birth and Kaikeyi was an important part of that. She regretted her choice and tried to make it better but Ram declined. But that is a story for Diwali. I will tell you then."

"Okay" Steve takes your hand in his and prompts you to narrate the story further. Sam and Bucky looking at you in interest

You take long, deep breath and continue

"Yeah so during his exile, his wife Sita ji and his brother Laxman accompanied him through his journey in the forests. One day his brother had an altercation with King Rawan's sister and cut her nose"

"He what?"

"Yeah, she survived, never understood the logistics of it but she survived and returned to her brother and to avenge his sister and because he was evil he decided to kidnap Lord Ram's wife Sita who was the human birth of goddess Laxmi, the wife to lord Vishnu"

"The one Ram is the human form of?" Bucky asks trying to keep up and you nod

"Yes. So he fools Sita, making her think he was an innocent Sadhu asking for food and then abducted her and took her to Lanka and then after a 10 month long hunt and help from several people he found on the way, he finally discovers Lanka and kills Rawan."

"10 months??" Sam exclaims and you nod

"No one knew where Lanka was at the time, Lord Ram had assembled an Army of half humans and half monkeys who helped him in search"

"Half monkeys" A hint of a smile takes over Bucky;s face but you just nod

"Its so interesting because I was talking to my father once and we figured that the descriptions of the Half monkeys or the vanar sena matches that of the primitive man so my father had said that it could mean that was the time we were transitioning from that form to this form and thus there were both forms existing simultaneously"

"Wow. But that is not part of the story?"

"Its not clearly stated but my father and I really did wonder about it a lot and it makes sense."

"Okay?" Bucky nods his head, furrowing his eyebrows together in understanding

"And Lanka meaning Sri Lanka?" Steve asks and you nod

"Yes, he was the King of Lanka, present day Sri Lanka and that may also be the reason it took them so long to find Lanka, it was an island in the south. They did not know anything about it"

"Wow. Okay I think I get it a little bit" Sam nods his head "So one of those dude is Rawan?" You nod "and the others?"

"The middle one is Rawan, the other two are his brother Kumbhkaran and his son Meghnath, they were one of the key helpers of Rawan but that is a story for another time"

The collective nods of all three of their head tells you that their minds have exhausted their capacity and you giggle at the thought and look back at the people that have started to prepare for the ceremony, if you can call it that

"They are gonna burn the statues one by one, the last one being Rawan. This ceremony signifies, Lord Ram's victory of good over evil"

"And the 10 heads?"

"Rawan had 10 heads, it was part of a blessing he had earned from Lord Shiva after years of hard worshiping. When Ram tried to kill Rawan, he tried to shoot arrows at his head but they would just re-emerge until Rawan's other brother, Vibhishan who had decided to support good and had thus betrayed his brother told Lord Ram to aim at his stomach."

"And he died?"

"Yes" you grin "Tale as old as time. Victory of good over evil"

Sam sits up straight from where he was completely crouched, a little stick in his hand, now that he had eaten all the ice cream from it.

"Well okay, nice story" he runs his tongue across his lips and looks up at the big statues and the now busy crowd "When are they gonna- you know?" he wiggles his fingers trying to imitate the gracious dance of the fire

By the time you had finished your story, a the crowd had doubled. From the corner of your eye, you could see the people that were preparing to roll up a newspaper

"You see them" You point at the group of men and three pairs of eyes follow your motion "Those people over there with the rolled up paper? They are gonna light fire on the paper and then place in on the statues that have been filled with inflammables"

"Oh okay"

You guys sit in silence for a while as the announcement that the function is starting is made, from your position in the far end, it is very easy to have a perfect glimpse of the festivities and so you four sit there with Sam and Bucky who were previously facing you have turned their backs on you as they face the other side.

You sit besides Steve, your shoulders touching and your hand in his but still maintaining a respectful distance as is appreciated in this place.

"After everything that the trip brought" Steve whispers in your ear, not taking his eyes off the man that starts to light up the statue of Meghnath, it takes a while before the flame catches up and the statue quickly starts to catch fire and everyone starts moving farther away "I'm glad you could have this"

He squeezes your hand lightly and you turn to look his way

"Thankyou for letting me tag along with you guys"

"I'm always glad to have you around doll" A small curve takes his lips as people scream in joy when the statue starts to completely burn and they start to light up the Kumbhkaran statue "Though I would prefer trips where I'm not worried about Hydra getting to you"

You bite your lower lip as the loud sound of crackers that had been tied inside the statue start to burst

"God its been so long since things have been so loud around me. God I missed it"

Steve throws his head back and laughs before shaking his head

"We can have our house as loud as you want"

You laugh at that

"Yeah, no I think the sound pollution is only good when given in small doses"

"We have have whatever you want in our home"

“okay...?” you shoot him a skeptical look as he grins 

"Why are you not getting it?" he asks 

A loud cheer comes from in front of you as they start to finally light up Rawan

"Getting what?"

"I'm asking you something"

"There was no question Steven" You are now extremely confused

"Well fine" He huffs and looks around to make sure no one is looking and takes both your hands in his as he takes your attention to him "I'm trying to talk about building our life together"

"We already live together"

"Yeah and that's the best thing that ever happened to me"

You smile

"Okay...?"

The loud noise of crackers booms from the front as people scream in excitement

"Y/n, my love" he starts, staring deep into your eyes "When I was pulled out of that frozen state and been told that I slept for almost 70 years and everyone and everything I knew was gone, I never thought I would have a reason"

He stops to take a deep breath and you feel your heart quicken in its speed

"A reason to want to stay you know? I went through the motions, did what was considered right for the world, fought the fight that needed to be fought but I was just going through the motions. Doing what I thought I needed to do. Doing what may very well be the reason I woke up now right? Because everything happens for a reason right?

And I thought my reason was this. To discover Hydra' presence in SHEILD, fight off freaking Aliens and every Avenger thing that I did and still do. It was all I had except for my friends but even that felt hallow like they were only my co-workers even after I found Bucky, there was something missing. It wasn't until I met you that I started loving life. I have never done that. Even in the forties, I had hated myself, dreaded the next day and that is what I was doing now but Y/n my love, you slammed your way into my life and unknowingly broke down every single wall that I had built. And I love you for that and for the amazing, brilliant, smart, beautiful, kind, lovely person that you are and so so much more my love-"

"Steve" You whisper, tears freely falling down your eyes and even through the explosion of voices around you, you know he hears your whispers just like every other voice around you is muted except for his

"Y/n" he whispers back and you barely make it out on the shape of his lips

"Y/n I have been waiting for the right moment since forever ago and I even went the traditional route and got your mothers' permission and since then I've been waiting and waiting but I just couldn’t find the right moment"

"Steve"

"Right now, in this exact moment, this exact second of time, I think I realize that every moment I have with you is perfect. There is no the perfect moment because everyone I have with you is perfect"

"Steve"

"So Y/n L/n, would you do me the honor of marrying me and making me the happiest man on earth?"

"I- Steve"

A second of stutter in your voice and Steve feels his heart stop. What the hell did he do. You didn’t want this. You were not ready. He should not have done this here. He should not have spoiled this day for you. He should have waited. He should have the ring.

"I'm sorry but the ring is this secret safe in the house and I never thought it would happen like this but I promise to give it to you the moment we land in New York if you say yes that is and its okay if you don’t” He starts blabbering, his fear taking over his tongue “Its okay if you say no. I can live with that. Its fine. No hard feelings. I-”

“Shut up” you scream and he goes silent before looking around, noticing how people move away from the smoke coming off the burning statues and get closer to where the four of you sit

“I would have kissed you right now but I don’t think that would be appropriate in this setting” You tease pointing at the group of kids that are starting at the group of you suspiciously and Steve checks his mask just to make sure its still working

“Are you?”

“Saying yes?” you bite your lip “Maybe? I don’t know. Give me the ring and maybe you’ll get an answer.”

You push yourself up from the ground, patting his shoulder one last time, saying something about checking where you guys could have dinner around here, leaving him dumb founded and confused.

“You know she said yes right?” Bucky asks as he stands up too, offering a hand to Steve to help him stand. He then offers his hand to Sam who takes it but falls on his butt when Bucky pulls him up and then leaves his hand promptly.

“She did?” Steve asks still confused.

“You were the one who said you loved her horrible jokes man” Sam says, massaging his back to relieve some pain he had gotten after his fall, punching Bucky on the shoulder which has zero effect on the super soldier and then he is following after you

“Come on Punk, I was promised food” Bucky follows right behind Sam, leaving behind a very confused Steve with a group of kids that have closed in on him

Before he can understand what is happening, one of the kids blocks his way

“Are you Captain America?”

And now Steve really is speechless.

---- THE END ----

Sorry if this felt like a rushed ending but my brain had stopped working. 

@fangirl-swagg​ Thankyou for encouraging me to just write it. I would have quit half way through if it wasn’t for your enthusiasm.

[team-free-will-oneshots]

"Screw people.”

Title: “Screw People.” Requests:  Could you please do a shy hunter reader that’s a bookworm and doesn’t talk much with both him and the reader starting to get crushes on each other - @hford0311 and also; Dean request, if you want. In a bar/club, protecting the reader from jackasses, goes wrong when Dean gets kicked out, expects reader to go back into bar. Reader leaves with Dean? If you want to that is :) - @brokencasbutt67-writer Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing, canon-typical violence, sexual harassment Word Count: 3.5k

note; i loved both of these requests and saw them fitting well together, hope u guys enjoy !! (also i was listening to this version of ‘iris’ by the goo goo dolls while writing the ending in the Impala, could be cool to listen to while reading if u want!)

alsoooo sorry this has taken so long to get up, thank you so much to the people who requested this for their patience!!!! xxxx

Masterlist

Finally, you were alone.

The mood was set, scented candles wafting lavender smoke into the air as you settled back onto the bed, a coy smile carving your expression as you turned down the fresh sheets. A blissful sigh fell through your parted lips as you stretched out your arm, fingers grasping and searching until finally, they found it - the object that had been at the back of your mind all day, tinging every thought, spurring every movement...

You pulled the hardcover edition of your favourite book into your lap, a grin splitting your face as you snuggled beneath your duvet and ardently threw open the novel to the page you had marked all-too-long ago. The tantalising rustling of pages paired with the familiar musk of a well-loved book served to eagerly drag you into the story’s depths, and suddenly you felt like a child again; tucked beneath your blankets well after bedtime, eyes straining in the dim light as you hungrily devoured a new story, pages flying as you frantically read, drinking in the fresh plot and bubbling with excitement over the adventures of the characters as you escaped into a fantasy world all your own, if only for a few hours.

The hunting life allowed little time for the simple pleasures of life - between the constantly switching monster of the week, paired with the looming threats that always overshadowed those associated with the Winchester brothers, you’d barely had a moment to yourself in weeks. And so, the moment the boys declared it was time for a break, you were snatching your favourite book from where it had been gathering dust on your shelf, bracing yourself to forget the outside world and the troubles it held, to escape into a world where a happy ending was guaranteed, where you weren’t destined to lose all those you cared for.

That was the beauty of books, you reasoned. You near always knew what to expect. Heroes meeting and facing adversaries, learning lessons about themselves and their relationships, and by the end of it all, finding some semblance of fulfilment or at the very least, closure. And of course, you weren’t one to complain about a touch of romance thrown in along the way.

Life had no such guidelines, especially the hunting life; no promises of happiness, of even making it past the next week. People were even less predictable; at least books were easy to read. Life’s characters were far less easy to understand. Perhaps that was why you insisted on avoiding them as vehemently as you did - books were your comfort, and all people had given you thus far was grief.

“Hey, Y/N, you busy?”

Well… maybe not all people.

You held up your book wordlessly, nose still buried beneath the pages as you ignored Dean Winchester’s query. He chuckled, leaning against the doorway.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked, peering at the cover as he sauntered into the room. You sighed, keeping your page with your thumb as you let the book fall shut around your fingers.

“Old favourite,” you explained. Dean nodded appreciatively.

“Cool. Well, just wanted to say hey - you did a great job on the hunt today, by the way,” he informed you, flashing you a proud smile that had you fighting to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the slight acceleration of your heart. 

“O-oh. Thanks, but… I don’t think it was anything too spectacular,” you protested weakly, a nervous chuckle escaping you as you fiddled idly with the pages of your book. Dean shrugged.

“Hey, you got the job done - Sam and I woulda been toast without you,” he said. “You should give yourself some credit.”

You allowed a smile. “Thanks,” you tentatively replied, voice small. Dean held your gaze a moment longer, eyes heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, before he cleared his throat and ducked his head.

“Look, uh- Sam and I are headed out tonight. Nothing fancy, just headed to the bar, some celebratory hey-we-killed-a-nest drinks, you know the drill. You can- you can come with us, if you want,” he invited. You laughed dryly.

“Thanks, but… I don’t think that’s really my scene,” you said. “Being surrounded by people? Not my thing.”

Dean shook his head in amusement. “I can’t believe how shy you are - you just took out those vamps like it’s nothing, Y/N. That’s pretty damn impressive,” he commended. “You have nothing to be shy about - you’re a total badass. If anyone has the right to be a cocky son-of-a-bitch, it’s you.”

You hid your smile as you glanced down to the book in your lap, fingertips nervously rubbing over the paper, curling it beneath your touch.

“I think you have enough cockiness for the both of us,” you said, sending him a shy grin. He snorted.

“Yeah, maybe. Well, offer still stands - Sam and I are leaving in fifteen,” he told you, straightening up and casting you once last, lingering glance as he headed towards the door. Your awaiting novel itched in your hands, eager to be read, but you paused as Dean hovered uncertainly for a moment by the doorway, as if locked in an internal debate.

“Hey, Dean?” you asked quietly, the words flying from your lips before you could halt them. That was the thing about Dean - talking to people wasn’t always easy for you, but something about the eldest Winchester set you at ease in a way no one else could ever hope to. He turned around immediately.

“Yeah?”

You tore your gaze from his jade eyes, though you felt the raise of goosebumps along your skin as he kept his soft stare trained on you. You flushed, tucking your hair behind your ear, cold fingers discordant against the heat of your cheeks.

“You ever think… sometimes monsters are easier to deal with than people?”

Dean frowned, ambling over to your bed and perching himself at its edge, only a few feet away from you. He shrugged. “Sometimes, sure - but people… people you can reason with. They have… morals, you know? A code. Means they can be scarier, sure, when they decide not to care - but when they do care, it’s…” Dean’s eyes flickered from yours to the ground, and he licked his lips as he chuckled breathlessly. “When you find someone to care about… I can’t imagine anything better,” he said, his eyes darting up to your own. You found yourself locked under the vice of his gaze, his expression softening with a flicker of vulnerability before he cleared his throat and broke the trance. “Why’d you ask?”

You released a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. “I dunno. I guess, just- what you were saying earlier, about being a good hunter? It’s because monsters are easier. I get monsters - most of them don’t think too hard - all instinct, y’know? But people are… people are manipulative. They judge and they hate and they hurt, I just… with monsters, I know what I’m getting. People are a lot harder to trust,” you explained. Dean nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but… ah, you’re probably right. Screw people,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But it’s not like you need to stay in contact with everyone you meet. Sometimes fun can just be… fun. Doesn’t need to be serious,” he told you, though there was a trepidatory edge to his playful tone. “You should come out tonight - let loose for once. You deserve it.”

An amused hum fell vibrated in your throat. “I dunno, I’m an all-in kinda person,” you mumbled, and you saw a small smile tilt the corner of Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. Me too.”

You scoffed. “You, really? Mr Different-Girl-Every-Night? You’re a serial flirt,” you teased, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between a fling and actually getting to know someone - I dunno if you’ve noticed, but sometimes it feels like I care a little too much.” His smile died, and he quickly shook his head, throwing up another grinning facade. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your nerdiness.” He cast a pointed glare at your book. “Seeya later.”

Dean left, the bedsprings jumping back into place as he picked himself up from the seat, traipsing through the door and leaving you with sweaty palms and a stomach full of butterflies. You watched as he left, eyes lingering a moment too long on the empty doorway before you turned your attention back to the novel in your lap.

You wanted to read, you really did - but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, the words would blur into an incomprehensible mass that your eyes instinctively skimmed, only for you to reach the end of the page without having understood any of it at all. After a few failed attempts at reading the same few lines over, you sighed in defeat, setting the book aside as you leaned back against the headrest.

Maybe Dean was right - maybe you should give ‘people’ another chance. Maybe it was time to put your incessant shyness and distrust behind you, to ‘let loose’, as Dean had so aptly described it. 

Dean…

You thought of the warmth of his smile, the vibrant ringing of his laugh, the coy smiles he’d shoot you when no one else was looking… the idea of going out was sounding more and more appealing.

And so, you decisively marched to the library, where Dean was grabbing Baby’s keys as Sam shrugged on his jacket. The sound of your footsteps had both their eyes jumping towards you, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of hope in Dean’s surprised expression.

“Hey, uh, I was thinking that I might take you up on that offer, Dean,” you said, extending a wry smile. “Mind if I come?”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed silently, before he finally nodded. “I-uh- yeah, of course!” he exclaimed, just as shocked at your decision to step out of your comfort zone as you were. “What changed your mind?”

You shrugged, looking down at your feet as you scuffed the floor with the toe of your boot. “Maybe I should give people a chance - you’re right, I should let loose every now and then,” you said, tone clouded with false certainty. Dean frowned, but let your uncertainty slide as his concerned expression was replaced with an encouraging smile.

“Great, finally a drinking partner who can keep up with me,” he quipped, shooting a glare at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Hey, someone has to drive you home when you’re plastered,” Sam countered. You laughed, the uneasy atmosphere dissipating as the three of you walked to the car. Dean shot you a wolfish grin, and the warm sensation that buzzed in your chest had you certain that you were making the right choice.

What was the worst that could happen?

---

Turned out, the ‘worst’ had a name - it was Brandon. You knew this only because he refused to let you forget it.

“Come on, sweet cheeks, let me buy you a drink,” he coaxed, words stumbling into one another as his hot breath rolled over your face, reeking of beer as he leaned in uncomfortably close on clumsy feet. 

“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” you replied, throwing him a distasteful, uncertain glance as you took a step back. Your eyes flitted over to the bar, where Sam was talking to a girl and Dean was grabbing drinks for the both of you. Catching your glance, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he noticed your company.

‘You okay?’ he mouthed. You managed to give him a tight-lipped smile and a short nod before Brandon was dragging your attention back to him.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, baby,” he slurred, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. “It’s just one drink.”

You took another step back. “Like I said, I’m good,” you insisted, though your voice came out small and hesitant. You gritted your teeth as he snorted scornfully, and your hand balled into your fist at your side as he sauntered forwards once more. Though you weren’t necessarily one for confrontation, you had no qualms about putting this asshole in his place. Barely twenty-four hours ago you’d single-handedly taken on three vampires - you were pretty sure you could handle an overeager drunken bastard.

Before you had the chance to put him in his place, however, Brandon was being shoved away from you by a familiar pair of toned arms. 

“They’re not interested, jackass,” Dean growled, taking a protective stance over you that you comfortably settled into. The drunk stumbled back, mouth falling open in outrage.

“Who asked you, huh?” he challenged, and Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he ran his tongue along his teeth. You could see his hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his side.

“I think a better question is; why can’t you take no for an answer? They said they’re good, man. Give it a rest,” Dean spat through clenched teeth. Brandon snorted.

“Mind your own fucking business, dick,” he snarled. “You want ‘em all to yourself, huh? Selfish prick.”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head with a grim smile, and for a moment you thought he was going to turn away… until he slammed his fist into your harasser’s jaw with a hard crack that made even you wince.

When Brandon arose, he was nursing a red jaw and a bleeding nose, but the red fluid trickling across his lips and staining his chin did nothing to mask the pure hatred etched into his expression as he lunged at Dean. The eldest Winchester blocked him easily, grabbing his wrist and slamming his face into a nearby booth table. There was a flurry of movement and shouts as Dean landed another punch to the man’s cheek, pressing him into the table with his arms locked behind his back.

“Apologise,” Dean demanded, and Brandon gasped for air.

“I’m sorry, man, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. Dean kneed him, and the man grunted in pain.

“Not to me, idiot. To them,” he hissed, nodding towards where you stood with wide eyes and brow half-cocked in appreciation at Dean’s strength as he held the bulky man down like he weighed nothing. 

“I’m sorry! Christ, let me go, please!” he said frantically. 

“Dean, what the hell!” Sam’s voice interjected from behind you, and suddenly a bouncer was peeling Dean from his bruised and bloody opponent.

“Time to go,” he said in a gruff voice. Sam stepped forward, and the bouncer shot him a look.

“He with you?”

“Look, we don’t want any trouble-” Sam began, but Dean made a sound of angered amusement.

“Speak for yourself, Sammy,” he muttered, still glaring daggers at Brandon. Dean caught your eye as the bouncer dragged him outside, and the last you saw of him before he was tossed outside was his cocky wink. You chuckled to yourself as Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“What the hell happened?”

You shook your head, walking to a window and watching as Dean paced before finally heading towards the parked Impala. 

“Guy was a dick - he deserved it,” you said, watching as Dean wiped his bloody knuckles on his jacket. “Look, I think I’m gonna head off with Dean,” you added, and Sam cast you a concerned expression.

“Do you want me to come?” he asked, though you could hear the reluctance in his tone as he glanced back at the girl he’d been talking with, who was still waiting for him by the bar. You smirked.

“Nah, I’m good - you go have some fun,” you teased, giving Sam a playful smile that he sheepishly returned.

“Alright. Seeya later, Y/N.”

Sam left, and you braved the cool night air as you walked to the Impala. The tail lights were on but the engine was off, the car sitting perfectly still in the parking lot. As you approached, the music from the bar echoed distantly behind you, captured by the walls and bouncing hollowly into the darkness, fading into nothing but a thumping bass and a vague suggestion of guitar and vocals.

You tried the passenger door. Locked. You tapped on the window, and watched as Dean leaned across the seat to unlatch it. The moment it swung open you slipped inside, the familiar scent of leather overruling the pollution and alcoholic odour the car park carried. The door fell shut with a heavy click, blocking any lingering traces of music from your ears. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, hearing only the haggard sounds of one another’s breathing and the light static of the radio. You glanced over at Dean.

“How’s your hand?” you asked. Dean laughed darkly.

“Fine,” he told you, but extended his hand towards you when you raised a quizzical brow. You tenderly took his palm against your own, turning over his fist to look at his knuckles - red and raw and tender, but nothing serious. Instead of releasing him from your grip, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and Dean tentatively raised his gaze to yours. 

“I could’ve handled that guy, y’know,” you told him sternly. Dean ducked his head guiltily.

“Yeah, I know, it was just… the way he was treating you…” He trailed off, a weighted sigh heaving from his lips as he shook his head to himself. “You didn’t deserve that. No one does, but… especially not you. I… got angry.”

You smiled wryly. “Bit of an understatement,” you said, and he laughed, genuinely this time.

“Yeah, maybe,” he allowed. “Look, I don’t think I’m welcome here tonight - I’m gonna head home. Just… give me a call when you wanna be picked up.”

“Nah, I’m ready to call it a night, too,” you said, leaning back into the seat. Dean looked at you in surprise.

“What? What happened to getting loose, giving people a chance, all that crap? Seriously, I don’t think you need to worry about that jackass - I doubt that dickhead will ever approach another person in his life,” he said seriously, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I doubt it - but I don’t think I’m really in the mood to let my hair down,” you replied, amused.

“Wait, what? But we were having such a good time!” he countered, and you met his eyes again, nodding.

“Yeah - we were. Screw other people, Dean. I thought I needed to act like someone I’m not to be happy - someone I thought I should be. But… partying? Being around a whole bunch of strangers? That’s not me, Dean. I… I don’t need to surround myself with people to be happy, it’s not in my nature. I just need… a few people I really care about,” you said, giving him a tiny smile and a pointed look.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured. “Y/N… sweetheart, you never need to make yourself uncomfortable because you feel like that’s how you ‘should be.’ You… damn, Y/N, you might be shy, but it’s frickin’ adorable,” he said playfully, and you laughed, elbowing him gently as you ducked your head in embarrassment, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I mean it, Y/N - you’re… you’re fucking amazing,” Dean breathed, and your laughter died as his eyes found yours again. He held your gaze, and you felt his eyes burning into your soul, piercing through your quiet front and seeing you for you in a way that no one else ever had.

And suddenly, he was kissing you.

His breath was warm as it blended with yours, and he tasted of whiskey and moonshine as his large hand found your cheek, cradling it as though you were something easily broken. His chapped lips bit into your own and your leg cramped up as you twisted to press closer to him, but none of that seemed to matter as you lost yourself in the bliss of kissing Dean Winchester.

You pulled away, catching your breath and taking a moment to soothe your racing heart as you ran your hand along his jaw, his stubble grazing your fingertips as he closed his eyes beneath your loving touch. 

“So… you’re sure you don’t wanna go back in?” he checked, and you giggled, shaking your head.

“Definitely not,” you breathed, your breath fanning over his lips as you leaned your forehead against his. Dean melted against you, his arms looping around your waist and bringing you close to his chest.

“Good,” he murmured, “because I don’t think I can let you go until I get another kiss…” he said, raising a cocky eyebrow. You grinned.

“I think that could be arranged…” you purred, sealing your mouth against his.

Screw people, you thought as you lost yourself once again in Dean’s reverent touch. You had all you needed right here.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo​ @calaofnoldor​ @lmpala97​ @sebastianshoe​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @castieliswatchingoverme​ @kina666​ @liviaolivia​ @simplyxparker​ @helpmeluci​ @demonsofhunting​ @bee-happy-buzz-on​ @lilulo-12​ @amandatar-06​

Dean tags: @polina-93​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @coupleofgoons​ @justanotherwinchester​ @shadowkat-83​ @teenwaywardasgardian​

If you want to be added to any tag lists just shoot me a message!

[actualwikipedia-blog]

X ⁞ tag drop. 3

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: Heart of a Youth – Serenity, Ingenuous and Principled

Translator’s Note: I take a break from the acting analysis articles and bring you something more current... I hope all of us can draw strength from this!

Original Article:https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404480985398902834#_0 Original Author: 雪色烟波里

“He is but a child of 30 years old.”

Quite frequently, the phrase “He is just a child” had been used as an excuse by fans, and I am not sure since when this has changed to become a way of mockery. Even before fans uttered anything on this, “bystanders” would have started going crazy with “although he made a mistake, he is still a child! So we should not let this go!”. I agreed very much with this statement – no one should use the identity of a child to absolve his responsibilities as an adult, an adult should act as one. However, when they started using this phrase on Xiao Zhan, and added his age as a form of mockery, this started to stink…

I felt as though I was personally insulted, since I am a self-claimed young girl nearing the age of 30. Using someone’s age as an insult is very impolite, since no one escapes the fate of becoming a 30 year old.

Always realistic about his age, and his self-deprecating laugh when he speaks of his entry to entertainment business 

To me, being of a certain age and yet having a heart of a youth is not conflicting. Some 18 year old could be methodical, sleek and boring, while others could be 80 and still retain their heart of a child, innocent and unblemished. As for Xiao Zhan, he had always positioned himself as an adult, and never used any excuses to shrink from his responsibilities, and therefore when his age was used as a weapon against him, and calling him a “30 year old child”, is definitely inappropriate. However, in the current darkness, I was able to see his heart of youth and his simplicity.  And I would put this across with the following phrase. 

A poem is always hard to translate, and therefore I give you the caption words instead. Serenity, ingenuous and principled.

SERENITY

“I always reminded myself, for many things, there is no need to openly display that on the screen, but you should just quietly do, and your efforts would always be seen. There is no need to fight for everything, and fighting for screen time would definitely be something not needed.” —- Xiao Zhan

The clip below was shot on 1 Feb 2016, when Xiao Zhan just debuted. Not vying or fighting might sound ridiculous in the world of adult, but this encompassed the entirety of Xiao Zhan’s acting career. No matter whether he was a side character, a supporting character or the lead character, he had always been quiet and low-key.

Moving automatically to the side for ”Joy of Life“ announcement press conference

In his group, he is willing to be on the sides and become part of the background, always all smiles but never speaking much, always wanting to do his personal best, but never looking for any rewards. In most of the concerts, he would be in the corner, running across the stage to get into position, but never skimping on his dance moves. 

Xiao Zhan when his group was still active 

Xiao Zhan during the Talent Show, as bright as the sun 

I liked to watch Xiao Zhan’s stage performances very much. From a technical perspective, his dance skills were way off from that of a professional’s, but you could definitely feel his enthusiasm no matter how far off to the side he was. Instead of admirable skills, he utilized more of his ability to inject emotions into his performances, creating an atmosphere of joy and passion. He enjoyed every single of his performances with passion. No matter whether there were flowers or applause for him, he always gave his 100% to the stage. For one to understand his dancing style, gifs are not enough; I would recommend watching his fan focused videos to understand better. 

Enjoying the stage with all of him 

That infectious smile

As a group vocal, Xiao Zhan is quite decent – his high notes are clear, his tone clean and warm, and generally very unique. Personally, I enjoy many of his China themed songs, never tiring from songs such as Qu Jin Chen Qing [曲尽陈情] (Wei Wuxian OST from the Untamed) and the cover of A Laugh over the Blue Sea [沧海一声笑] (OST from the The Smiling, Proud Wanderer movie).

Recently, there were many who mocked at him for being an idol vocal but not knowing how to use an in-ear monitor, but they never thought about whether a vocal of a relatively unknown idol group would have the right to his own personal in-ear monitor. He had to borrow for his performances, and if he was not able to adjust in time, he would just have to bear with it, because he had no right to complain. After he attained some fame, he was able to finally get his own in-ear monitor, and he immediately started learning from his mentors, so what is there to mock? I only saw a person who was able to practice patience in adversity, work hard and progress in good times. By watching the entire series of “Our Song”, you would have a better understanding of his vocal skills.

Xiao Zhan during the rehearsal of Our Song 

Xiao Zhan singing “My China Heart” on CCTV 

After attaining some level of fame, Xiao Zhan did not let that get to his head, but instead clearly understood his current position, and that popularity could be temporary, only his works would be the basis of his career. Many of his colleagues would describe him as “hardworking and down-to-earth”. In terms of his career, he never slacked off any of his jobs, always prepared and went all out. In interpersonal relations, he was always polite and restrained, and treated everyone around him modesty and warmth. His attitude towards his acting was that he always had to do better than what he did previously. His sense of serenity was not limited to just himself or to his future, and this instead created endless possibilities for his future. 

Always grateful 

He never liked to claim credit, never cared about having commendations – when the host said that the Summer of 2019 belonged to Wei Wuxian, he replied that the Summer of 2019 belonged to The Untamed. When the fans were looking forward to his undubbed performances, he instead pointed out that the voice actors did plenty of value add. When the host asked him about that famous clip of him tearing up during script reading, he instead pointed out Xuan Lu and said that she was also tearing up but it was not captured on screen. You can understand how emotionally intelligent and humble he was just from a few interviews.

Humble, kind and sincere

Detailed and polite 

He believed that hard work could change his fate, his faith almost like that of a fresh-faced youth – he did not care about everything else, except that if he did well enough he would be eventually rewarded. However, is the world really like this? He opened a path with his stubborn simplicity, and forced his way out, but now he has tripped and fallen. While everyone else is cheering and trying to add fuel to the flames, looking at this “entertainment business oddity” paying the price for not keeping to the “rules”, there may be just a handful of us reflecting on why it would be so difficult for a normal person to succeed. Does it mean that eking out a path on your own with just courage would only result in failure? This is something I refuse to believe. I will wait, and wait for him to stand again, to prove to the world that a person can create his own path with hard work, and we can follow every of his steps and not be defeated easily! 

We will not be easily defeated 

INGENUOUS

On why he did not change his Weibo account after joining the entertainment business:

“I did not change because there was no need to. There is nothing to hide from the others. In those times, in 2010, that was exactly how I felt, I’m very open, I feel that there’s really nothing. In fact, this proves that my personality is not what everyone thinks as “super nice”, I’m just a living person, I feel that no one is perfect, and I don’t want to be a perfect doll.” —- Xiao Zhan

Ingenuous

He did not change his Weibo account after 5 years in the entertainment business, he had always been a candid person. However, he overestimated the world’s tolerance and kindness, and all his personal inside jokes from his commoner days had been used to smear his and his friends’ reputation. Now, if you open Weibo, you would can see all the cyber-bullying against him, as though he had done a heinous crime, but the basis of all these were just some vulgarities he said 10 years ago. Is not the world ridiculous? Based on this, I could have been the most evil girl online, if whatever I said in Baidu Forums were ever exposed, since not only I used vulgarities, I also mocked posters who made a fool of themselves, but these history does not stop me from choosing to be a kind and upright person today. A person is ever-changing, and if we had to gauge a person’s current state on what he did 10 years ago, wouldn’t that be narrow minded? In fact, the Weibo environment 10 years ago is different from that of today, and it is ridiculous to impose current rules on something that was done 10 years ago. I respect all who are candid about themselves, and I would want to be such a person as well, and face the world with an open mind. 

The cyber-bullying could be seen everywhere 

This is overboard… and also something I rather not translate 

Xiao Zhan did not deliberately create any persona, and his candid nature in handling himself is very obvious. He did not pretend to be someone he was not, did not shy away from showing his anxiety, and always used his true self to face everything:

During his Milan interview, he said excitedly that this was his first time to Europe.

During his time in X-Fire, on his first high speed rail trip, he was so excited that he recorded a vlog on it.

During one of their group activities, the organizers arranged for them to stay in an luxurious hotel, and he was so excited that he recorded another vlog on it, showing off the hotel as well as the huge bathtub.

When faced with a cat, he would smile in spite of himself. And he would play with random cats, be accidentally scratched by one and had to go for jabs.

His phone wallpaper had always been of “The God of Fortune”

His eyes would brighten up when he speaks or hears of money.

In fact, if you study him long enough, you would know that he is not perfect, but just a vivid, living person like each and everyone of us.

“This is my first time to Europe” “I just felt, wow, this is amazing!”

His excited face on his way to the high speed rail 

His excitement introducing his hotel room, and whoever used this to spread rumors is just plain evil 

An ingenuous gentleman, his heart pure and clear, he does not need to be secretive about himself, nor does it need to disguise himself. This is the Xiao Zhan I know, and I accept every of his imperfections, and I am willing to work with him to become a better person. I hope that when I am nearing 30 years old, I would still be exuberant when I encounter the first snows of that year. 

And I hope that your heart will always remain clear, and your eyes forever starry 

PRINCIPLED

“I feel that youth is that strength, just that strength, undaunted, undefeated by fate and fearless.” —- Xiao Zhan

In Everlasting Classics, Xiao Zhan sang “Bamboo in the Rock”. To be a person, one would strive to be a gentleman. To be a gentleman, one would strive to be like bamboo – unwavering against strong winds, and upright between the heaven and earth.

Relentlessly holding onto the mossy hill The roots buried within broken rocks Tough and strong despite endless erosion and assault Firmly against winds from all directions

Xiao Zhan said that his inner self is like bamboo, firm and tenacious. Many would scoff at this, and say that he did not do enough to control his fans. But is this really the issue of him not providing guidance for his fans? In fact, he has always been telling his fans, but this had been hijacked by the racket of public opinion.

“I can see that you say that studying is difficult, or work makes you unhappy, but growth is like climbing a mountain, the bigger it is, the harder it is, leave your grouses in your heart, when you look back at these problems again, you will realize that they were not difficult.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Actually, I want to tell everyone that no matter whether schooling or working, don’t forget to love life, to experience life and notice everything around you, love it!” —- Xiao Zhan

“There are both sides to everything, there are people who likes you and there will definitely be people who doesn’t like you, you don’t have to care too much about it. As long as we have good momentum, there will be more who will like us, and I will fight hard for those who likes us.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone hear those?

“Idol and fans are actually symbiotic, we support each other and move forward together. When we live our respective lives well and continue to become better selves.” —- Xiao Zhan

“Hence I would say that my fans, I feel that you must first live your lives well so that you have spare time to like and follow the idol you like.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone remember those?

“I am actually very careful, because now I represent not just Xiao Zhan, but my team as well, and if not for myself, there is no need to create unnecessary trouble. Frankly speaking, I haven’t met anything I can’t quite solve myself. But for many problems, others could only provide some opinions, give some directions, cheer you on, but they can’t really solve it for you. How to persist, how to endure, still all depends on myself, because only I know what really happened.” —- Xiao Zhan

“I feel that the ideal status is not changed by regrets. What is most important about life is making sure we live in the present and live well, and not regret the past. The present and future are the most important.” —- Xiao Zhan

Did anyone understand these?

He never stopped his guidance, but many were blind to them. Xiao Zhan’s firm attitude comes from being strict with himself, instead of becoming a nagging teacher disciplining his countless fans. A person could choose the person to like, but the person could not choose who would like him. Some people could not even be disciplined by their parents, how could this burden be instead placed on Xiao Zhan, who even has problems finding time to sleep? Is this not being difficult? If he had this ability, he might as well not be an actor, but become a professional educator.

He had always been providing guidance, but he definitely cannot control everyone

When large groups of anti fans overtook the “Secret Garden” in Sept 2019, spamming that post with the bad comments, his fans quickly counter spammed the post in fear that he might discover and read those bad comments. The unnatural spike in comments obviously alerted him, and he posted “I’m here, goodnight”. Those who took this out of context to claim that he was inciting more verbal war obviously did not see the entire comment. 

The “shhhhh” emoticon is often left out when pointing this out. 

In the storm of cyber-bullying, the only target is Xiao Zhan, because his Weibo account is the only one attached to a real name.

His personality is 100% firm and tenacious. His tenacity is in how he insisted to his doctor that he would continue to practice his dance steps despite inflammation in his knees; when his toenail fell off, he only asked if it would regrow. His tenacity is in how he would wear thick layers of period drama costume in the height of summer, and wear tattered rags in the deep freezing cold of winter. His tenacity is in shooting period dramas for straight 2 years, not knowing if they would actually be allowed to air. His tenacity is in how he would be fighting a lawsuit against his management, saying “Don’t look back, ever!”, while at the same time managing his endorsement deals by himself and plotting his own future. His tenacity is in how he would not give up despite not earning enough to support himself, and having to go to events by himself without any assistants.

He had survived one of the toughest period, so why should he admit defeat this time round? He would not, and his fans also have no reason to abandon him as well. He is faultless in this, and perhaps causing envy is his only fault here. Time will prove his innocence, falsehoods will not withstand the test of time.

Biting his air tickets, so that he has spare hands to carry his own luggage. We will not give up no matter how tough it gets. 

We will accompany you through thick and thin

We will become better people together

And I will end this article with another poem from Zheng Ban Qiao (the poet for Bamboo in the Rock):

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

In a room these oozes gentlemanliness, evergreen against the test of time

A bamboo, an orchid and a rock, with integrity, discipline and fortitude

Firmly against gales and snowstorm, they will bring the news of the spring breeze

[medea10]

My Review of Toilet Bound Hanako-kun

How did I… *giggles inappropriately like a 7 year old* What the hell kind of anime is this? Does this anime take place on the crapper? Shit, I gotta watch this mess!

And seriously, who animated this? Was it the same guys that did Danganronpa?

Let me see…Studio Lerche…YEP! And that also explains why the main boy is played by Megumi Ogata again!

At Kamome Academy, there’s said to be seven wonders haunting the school. One of the wonders revolves around an apparition by the name of Hanako-kun. Hanako resides in the third stall of the third floor to the girl’s bathroom. It is believed that Hanako has the ability to grant any wish when summoned. We begin our tale with young girl, Nene Yashiro, seeking Hanako’s help to get a young boy to fall in love with her. But when she summons Hanako it is quickly discovered that Hanako is a boy living in a girl’s bathroom stall.

Your guess is as good as mine! Add another questionable character Megumi Ogata plays!

Due to a misunderstanding with a mermaid artifact, Yashiro is now bound to Hanako. Kind of like a slave or a hostage or a new friend. However you interpret this contract! And then there’s this monk in training (named Minamoto) who has a vendetta against Hanako. So we see this guy throughout the series as well.

Let’s have fun with the wacky misadventures of Yashiro, a gung-ho monk, and the toilet-bound spirit, Hanako-kun.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: This is a FUNimation licensed anime and they managed to dub several episodes prior to the COVID pandemic. I never got a chance to watch the dub, so I’ll just focus on the sub. Megumi Ogata is back to play another mysterious boy. And as for Akari Kitou, I’m starting to hear her a lot more often in the last two years. I really enjoyed her as Yashiro. Almost reminds me of her voice in Hitoribocchi! She’s in quite a bit of animes in 2020, so I would watch out for her. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from!

JAPANESE CAST: *Hanako is played by Megumi Ogata (known for Haruka/Uranus on Sailor Moon S, Yukito on CCS, Kurama on Yu Yu Hakusho, Naegi on Danganronpa, Shinji on Evangelion, Ayato on Angel Beats, and Yugi on YGO)

*Yashiro is played by Akari Kitou (known for Aru on Hitoribocchi, Kotoko on In/Spectre, and Kaho on Blend S)

*Minamoto is played by Shouya Chiba

ENGLISH CAST: *Hanako is played by Justin Briner (known for Deku on My Hero Academia, Yukito on CCS: Clear Card, Luck on Black Clover, and Mitarai on Danganronpa 3)

*Yashiro is played by Tia Ballard (known for Happy on Fairy Tail, Yamato on My Love Story, Kagura on Fruits Basket 2019, Komari on Little Busters, Zero Two on Darling in the FranXX, and Megumi on Shiki)

*Minamoto is played by Tyson Rinehart (known for Daru on Steins;Gate, Enji on Tokyo Ghoul, Hifumi on Danganronpa, Matsuda on High School DxD, and Bartolomeo on One Piece)

SHIPPING: At the beginning of the series, it seems as though Yashiro was the type to fall in love easily with pretty-looking boys. But will always meet up with disappointment as all these boys prefer someone else or they suddenly have standards. There’s even a running joke about Yashiro having fat ankles (or daikon legs), that has been a turn-off to some of the boys that she falls for. But a few episodes later, we notice Yashiro having a little crush on Hanako. I shouldn’t question a little girl falling in love with a ghost who loiters around the girl’s bathroom because this is Japan. Absurdity at best! There’s also this sort of admiration that Minamoto has for Yashiro. I really didn’t think too much on that due to this anime laying on the Hanako x Yashiro ship thick. And also…

…

I support Minamoto x Mitsuba.

I found this cute and I really wish for more between these two characters if this series gets a continuation. Don’t at me! I don’t care if Mitsuba’s an apirition and dumbass over here has to exercise demons. This is cute!

ANIMATION: Aside from this animation looking like it came from the ghost of Danganronpa past, I would like to commend this on something else. So one thing I do have to give credit to is that this anime, more often than not feels like you’re reading a manga from the way the design is setup. I just thought that was neat and felt like saying something about that.

ENDING: Pretty much all of the strange anomalies surrounding the school are just rumors (but the ghosts are very much real, just the tales about them are fake). And the one spreading those rumors is Hanako’s twin brother (who is also a ghost), Tsukasa. I should also point out that Hanako’s real name is Amane. But we really shouldn’t worry about this sibling rivalry as we know nothing about how or why Hanako killed his brother and it’s not brought up all that much in the finale. Yeah, this is balls-to-the-wall trippy.

Instead, we get a small arc of Minamoto befriending a spirit named Mitsuba. However this goes south really fast when Mitsuba’s soul is used by one of the seven wonders of the school and is then manipulated by Hanako’s twin brother Tsukasa. After that, Mitsuba is unable to know why he died or even the time he spent with Minamoto is erased.

In the final episode, we kinda go back to aspects of the first episode. As you may recall, Yashiro swallowed a mermaid artifact that makes her turn into a fish whenever she gets wet. Yashiro is visited by two fish spirits who want her to drink this mermaid blood potion so that she can cut the hold Hanako has on her and become the mermaid princess in their realm. Yashiro was kind of in an awkward situation as she cares for Hanako, but is constantly thrown bags of reality at her with how Hanako has treated her since forming the contract. They promise her popularity, a harem of eligible fish bachelors, and an escape from her body issue with her “daikon legs”.

Hey, you’d develop a complex too if people constantly taunt you for having fat ankles!

Anyways, she denied their request. But they were rather persistent and grabbed her by force. Thankfully, Hanako wasn’t far behind and saved her and set the fish packing.

Yashiro and Hanako’s relationship as a whole takes a turn for the better as Yashiro decides to stay by Hanako and he will eventually confide in Yashiro about his past.

This was a unique series. I mean, it was all over the place in where this story was going to go. But in terms of conclusions, not so much! I mean, Hanako’s brother is still spreading rumors around the school and unsuspecting students repeat it despite it being mostly false. We’re unsure of many things about those ghost brothers and the drama that went down when Tsukasa died. Hell, I’m not even sure the manga is that far ahead either. I loved the animation to this. Sure it looks like a Danganronpa clone, but again Studio Lerche animated it. But their direction of making this feel like a colorized manga at times was something I like to commend it for.

Each episode had a nice, quirky vibe to it whenever Hanako’s on the screen. So I say give it a try. It’s not a long series.

FUNimation has all 12 episodes available for streaming. Now that FUNimation is doing simuldubs again, Hanako-kun has a few more episodes available in English.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Fifteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

The Dawn

Five Weeks Later

He leapt out of the row boat onto the jetty, landing heavily. If there had been anyone around, besides the captain who’d rowed him over, they would have heard a sharp, muttered curse, watched him pause.

Then, he pushed himself up, staggering just slightly, and nodded his gratitude to the captain. The man nodded in return silently, then started to row away.

It felt like a very long walk up to the main and only street of Van Horn for Arthur Morgan.

Shady Belle. That’s where he’d start. Part of him knew, hoped, they wouldn’t all be there, that they’d have moved on, that would have been the smart thing to do. But how to get there?

Stopping on the street to catch his breath, Arthur looked right, then left. A few horses were tied to posts, but every establishment was quiet, even the bar. Then again, it was only a few hours until the sun would rise. The strongest looking horse was to his left. He started moving.

“Hey, girl... good girl...” he murmured to her as she lifted her head, shifting a little uneasily.

She soon settled, though, as he stroked her neck and murmured to her, slowly unwinding the reins from the post. She was beautiful, a piebald Hungarian Half-bred. He hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

Still softly whispering to her, he gripped the saddle and pulled himself up, hissing out a breath.

Bone-aching tiredness and this horse would get him home.

To her.

He encountered no one as he left Van Horn, urging the horse into a light canter. It was the first time in nearly over a month that he’d been alone. Guarma had been... He hoped to God he never had to be in a place like that again. He couldn’t stop his heart from aching slightly at those who were still trapped there, but he had faith in Hercule and his men. Besides, he had his own battles and problems to think about.

Dutch was one of those problems.

Later, think on it later. Just get home.

To her.

Christ. When had he last been able to think of her properly?

Not yet, not yet. Wait ‘til you see her.

If he saw her.

Only a few travellers passed him as he made his way to Shady Belle. He was just grateful for the quiet, and kept his mind blank, watching the paths he took. It must have rained a little while before as there were puddles everywhere and the mud was slick. The horse handled it well, though. He quickly took a shine to her.

Passing a bridge that would lead into Saint Denis and riding past the fields of Caliga Hall, he marvelled at how long ago all their businesses there felt, how much had changed since then. 

How people had changed. How he had changed. How... How people had died.

His jaw moved.

Don’t think about that now.

He slowed the horse as they neared Shady Belle, coming down to a walk. He strained to hear as they passed the trees and shrubs that had once been so familiar. Then, he turned on to the main path and he saw it, the large, once great building, still intact. His gaze darted about as he rode down towards it, but he saw no one, heard nothing, not even crickets and flies. He pulled the horse to a gentle halt as she came to the fountain, and he dismounted slowly. The front doors were open, anyone could shoot at and kill him now, he had no weapons, nothing. Continuing to scan the area, he checked the saddlebag on the horse. Just a few coins and a map of Lemoyne.

Exhaling a breath, he turned towards the house, patting the horse’s neck gently. Looking to the right, there was a collapsed wagon, and to the left, the bandstand.

Her bandstand.

He moved to it. Peered in. Nothing.

He moved to the house. Rain had gotten in, staining the first few floorboards beyond the doors. Inside, it looked just as it had when he and John had first arrived to clear it out for all of them; books, papers and leaves strewn about, furniture turned over, bottles and cans piled together. People must have been using this place, but it hadn’t been his people.

He closed his eyes as he ran a hand through his sand and sea-salt thick hair. What the hell was he doing here. He had no way to track them. What if they really had all gone? What if... What if something had happened to them? Rubbing at his face, he moved to his right, into the closest room. He sat down heavily on the non-collapsed side of a faded chaise lounge and put his head in his hands.

He was so God damn tired. Exhausted. Like he’d never been before in his life. He’d never been the kind of man to give up, but now...

Hosea dead.

Lenny dead.

Charles, he didn’t know.

John, too.

Dutch...

Lifting his head and sitting back, he stared across the room into the next, his hands falling to his lap. The table they’d once placed maps and books on was still upright, two bottles on it and propped between them an—

He frowned.

... And an envelope. A pristine one, that very much looked out of place.

Pushing himself up, Arthur crossed the room to the table, grabbing the envelope.

Tacitus Kilgore, the front read.

Their alias.

A corner of his mouth lifted as he turned it over and ripped it open. He fumbled slightly as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of it and opened it, instantly beginning to read.

Dear Uncle Tacitus,

I do so hope you enjoyed your vacation. Lucky you! Leaving like that. And you always suggested you were too old for travel. I hope you and your cousins enjoyed yourselves. Me and your grand nieces have decided to take a trip of our own as the place has become so dreary and godforsaken in your absence. We have gone to visit relatives (from my Daddy’s side. You are not yet acquainted with them) in Lakay, a small village just north of Saint Denis.

It’s buggy and muggy but apparently neither is too bad at this time of year. Please come see us when you can. 

Yours sincerely,

Caroline

“Well, thank you, darling niece ‘Caroline’,” Arthur murmured as he smiled, folding the letter back into the envelope.

The tone rang of Sadie, but also her.

He placed it back on the table, leaving it for any of the other men who might try their luck here for any sign of their gang. 

Rolling his shoulders, he headed for the door, finding the last of his energy.

Lakay. Them. Her.

Soon, he would be with them.

—

He’d had to slow the gallop of the horse as they entered the heartland of the swamps. It was muddier here, the swamp overflowing to the paths and making the horse skid slightly. Despite his eagerness, he kept her to a light canter, not wanting any broken necks or legs for either of them.

It was quiet and dark, the morning light breaking through the large, heavy trees in thin shafts. He had to commend them, it was well covered, and he certainly wouldn’t want to bring an army through here to look for them.

He slowed to a trot as he passed through some muddy water and between two short wooden poles, small skulls attached to the top of them.

Great.

Then, he saw them. Shacks and sheds in an odd kind of circle, dim lanterns dotted around, and...

Abigail, Pearson and Tilly.

He pulled the horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted, unsure of how he managed to stay on his feet, his legs so close to giving out. He stared at them. Abigail, Pearson and Tilly. They were bent over a table, each working on a part of a meal, evidently. Then, Abigail raised her head. The knife dropped from her hand, clattering loudly on the table.

“Arthur?!” Her arms were around him before he knew it. Closing his eyes, he found himself smiling as he patted her back.

He wanted to sink into the warm embrace, but it wasn’t the one he really wanted.

“Hey.” God, his voice sounded terrible to his own ears. When was the last time he’d had water?

“’Hey’? Like you ain’t been away so God damn long,” Abigail half-scoffed, half-wept as she pulled back, smiling with relief.

“Had a nice time, Morgan?” Pearson asked with a grin, clapping him on the back. 

“Yeah, Micah tell you all about how lucky we was?” Arthur answered good-naturedly. He’d missed them all, and it nearly broke his heart to see how delighted and relieved Tilly and Abigail were, both of them crying, but he really only wanted to see one person. He was about to ask when Abigail gripped his arm.

“They took John, Arthur, at the bank.”

His heart dropped. “I know, Abigail, where is he?” 

“They got him, he’s in Sisika Penitentiary, Arthur, he’s probably gonna hang!”

He rubbed her back gently, sobs rising within her again. “It’s all righ’, sweetheart, it’ll be all righ’. Dutch’ll be here real soon and we’ll get him back, I promise.”

Christ, John...

His heart ached.

Smiling gently at her, Arthur glanced between them all. “Where’s Annie?”

“Oh, God, of course, I’m sorry, Arthur.” Abigail wiped her eyes sheepishly, looking to Tilly. “She was on watch, wasn’t she? She should just be—”

“Arthur?”

That voice.

His gaze lifted.

There she was. Staring at him. A shotgun held in one hand by her side. Her hair tied back. Clean blue blouse and black skirt. Brown belt wrapped around her waist along with a gunbelt around her hips, two revolvers in holsters. His bandanna tied loose around her neck. Her lips parted. Her eyes shining.

Then, she was striding towards him. The shotgun ended up in Pearson’s hands, from him catching it as she either dropped it or thrust it into his hands, he didn’t know, didn’t care.

As Ada threw her arms around his neck, his eyes closed and his own wrapped around her. He held on to her tightly, his face pressed into the crook of her neck.

She was safe. She was alive.

“I knew you couldn’t be dead, I knew it,” he heard her whispering, her voice cracking, “They’d have put it all over the papers, we’d have known, we’d have just known...”

He just held her, letting her surround him.

She held on just as tightly, taking shuddering breaths. It was several moments before she pulled back abruptly and gripped his shoulders, her eyes darting over him.

“Are you hurt? Your skin is all red, what happened?”

He gazed at her, keeping a hold on her waist. “I’m fine. A little thirsty and hungry, but fine.”

“Come here, come on.” She was taking his hand and leading him somewhere, and at some point the others must have disappeared because they were no longer there, but he just looked at her.

Her hair was shorter, he suddenly realised. It now fell to between her shoulder blades rather than near her waist. He was going to ask what happened when she turned to him, having led him behind a barely-standing shed.

“Sit down.” She dragged a crate closer to him.

He obeyed, trusting that it would bear his weight. It did, and he placed his hands on his knees as she pulled a bucket of water closer, a rag swimming in it.

“It’s clean, I promise,” she murmured, though he wasn’t fazed.

Gripping the rag and squeezing some water out of it, she then started to gently wipe at his face, and the coolness of it felt like heaven.

“Tell me what happened.”

He cleared his throat as he gazed at her. “Ain’t you gotta keep an eye out?”

“Oh, nothing happens around here.” She smiled lightly. “Well, apart from the Night Folk, but they loiter around the western roads.”

“The Night Folk?” The name rang a faint, tired bell.

“That’s a story for another time,” she answered, raising her eyebrows slightly as her smile widened a little more.

She swept the cloth down his neck before dipping it back into the water again. His fingers brushed against her skirt, gripping the material gently.

“You haven’t changed. Well, ‘cept the hair.”

She met his gaze, dabbing at the part of his chest she could get to, her smile lingering.

“You have.”

“Ah, well, ain’t no barbers in Guarma.”

“Guarma?!” Her hand dropped as she stared at him. “What the hell were you doing there?!”

“Micah and Javier didn’t say?”

“Oh, well... I heard they’d come back but I just... stayed on my watch. I didn’t really know what I wanted to hear.” Grazing her teeth over her lower lip, she gripped at his shirt. “Come on, let’s get this off while you tell me.”

As he raised his arms to help her pull it off, wincing slightly as various aching muscles protested, and she started to wash him, he told her everything, beginning to end. How the bank had been surrounded almost instantly. How Hosea had been shot before them. How they’d blown a hole in the wall of the bank and escaped. How Lenny had been killed as they ran. How they had waited in a dingy room in a boarded-up building for darkness to fall, hiding like rats. How Charles had made himself a diversion, drawing guards away. How they’d managed to get onto a boat and convinced the captain to let them stay. How there had been a storm and the boat had caught fire somewhere in the ocean and they’d had to abandon it, jumping in to the water. Guarma and the hell it had provided. The journey back.

The only comment she gave throughout was that Charles had survived and found them and was still with them. Other than that, she just washed the dirt, sweat, sand and sea-salt from his chest, face and hair, expressionless. Even Hosea and Lenny’s deaths elicited no response from her, but he didn’t let it trouble him.

 “Christ...” she finally said after he’d finished, exhaling a long breath. “... and Bill and Dutch are coming?”

“Yeah, we thought it’d be best if we went one at a time with quite some time between us to try and draw as little attention as possible.” He cleared his throat, wanting to ask for water to drink but not wanting her to leave him, even if only for a short while. “But what about you all, how did you all get away? What happened after we left?”

“Pinkerton men came minutes after the explosion.” Her lips twitched at his expression. “Yeah, we heard that all the way at Shady Belle. We packed everything up, came here, not before we exchanged shots. Everyone is fine,” she quickly continued at his mouth opening, “Well, couple of scratches and bruises here and there. Couple of shots to legs and—”

“Whose?”

She pressed her lips together slightly. “Mine. Don’t worry, all right, stop,” she swiftly continued again as he frowned and opened his mouth again. “I’m fine. It didn’t hit anything vital, just meant I couldn’t do much for a little while. Still limp a little and it aches every now and then but that should go away, hopefully.” Her features fell slightly. “Tilly got it worse. Bullet grazed her neck, but she’s okay, thank God. Oh, and there’s this...” 

As she brushed curls off of her forehead, he saw it; a thin white scar starting from the upper right side of her forehead, going almost diagonal across it, and curving down past her left eyebrow. 

“Jesus Christ...” One hand gripped her chin gently as he angled her head, his gaze following it. “What—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She lifted her head out of his touch, smiling lightly. “Nice, huh?” She was already continuing before he could answer. “Anyway, Sadie knew about this place. We reconvened in some woods up north the night it all happened, that’s how Charles found us, and then she and Charles rode ahead, chased away the men who were living here. Like I said, been quiet since then.”

Arthur kept a hold on her skirt as he looked at her. He knew it was pointless to worry about what had already happened, and she was fine, but guilt still set in. He should have been there.

His hand found her free one, lacing their fingers together. “How you been?”

“Fine,” she answered, soaking the rag again.

  “Ada.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

She exhaled a breath as she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “You made me cry, Arthur Morgan. More than once. I won’t forgive you for making me feel, cowboy.”

His chest tightened. He knew she wasn’t saying it to make him feel guilty, that she was just teasing, a little. He just couldn’t help but think about the burdens she’d had to carry, how she’d worried day after day. He’d had escaping and saving Javier to keep him occupied, combined with dehydration and near starvation. Even on the boat back he’d just slept, eaten, drank, then slept. God, the guilt could’ve crushed him. He knew apologising wouldn’t even begin to make up for it.

Taking the rag from her hand, he dropped it and took her by the waist, drawing her on to his lap.

“Arthur, I didn’t mean it...” she began to protest gently.

“It’s all righ’, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

She fell silent, her head resting against his shoulder. He tightened his hold on her, his chin on top of her head. She released a breath, her arm sliding around his back.

“What you been up to while we ain’t been around to make things excitin’?” he asked quietly, his fingers brushing against her skin.

She didn’t move, taking a breath. “Oh, the Night Folk have made things very exciting. Other than that, we’ve been lying low. And Sadie and I have been going after O’Driscolls.”

Jesus Christ.

Arthur lifted his head, looking down at her. “What?”

Drawing her head back as well, Ada smiled. “Don’t give me that look. I told you we would, and we’ve survived so far, obviously.”

Well, can’t argue with that.

Arthur exhaled a breath. “Righ’... Does she know?”

“Yeah.” Her hand slid up his back to settle on his shoulder. “I told her a few days after we got here.”

“About everythin’?”

“Yeah. I think she could tell something was up, anyway, had been able to for a while. She also thinks I’m hell bent on revenge like her.” Her eyebrows rose slightly as she brushed her fingers against his neck. “Which I suppose I am.”

Jesus, he had missed out on some things.

“Really?”

She smiled slightly. “I just want peace of mind. I just want to know.”

He took her free hand. “You found any sign of him?”

“We’ve interrogated a few and asked them but there are so many Thomas O’Driscolls, though, it’s hard to narrow them down. The ones we’ve caught didn’t seem close enough to Colm to really know anything.” Meeting his gaze, she smiled again. “Anyway, we shouldn’t be talking about me.” 

She cupped his cheek and he leaned in to the touch, so, so grateful to feel it once more. 

“Made you cry, did I,” he said quietly, a corner of his mouth lifting.

She snorted lightly, gazing at him in such a way he felt he didn’t deserve.

“Not just you.” She said it before she could stop herself, taking a breath when he frowned. “Oh... My Faithful was hurt during the fight. I had to shoot him to put him out of his misery.”

His heart dropped.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“No, please...” she cut him off gently, a small smile lifting her features again. “It’s fine. You men just keep breaking my heart, don’t you?”

He exhaled a laugh, caressing her back. “I’m gonna have to make it up to you.”

“You can start by not going anywhere, Morgan.” Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“That I can do, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure of it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed softly, her fingers brushing against his damp hair. Grazing her teeth over her lower lip, she lowered her voice a little. “Morale’s low, Arthur. Well, was low. I think you all returning will boost things.”

“Well, I ain’t surprised, you all ain’t had it easy.” 

“It’s been okay, just...” She pressed her lips together. “Molly’s gone.”

"What?” He frowned.

Well, shit... That wasn’t good.

Ada shrugged. “She just disappeared, days after we got here. No one seems to mind, though, I think they all seemed quite relieved. And I’m assuming Abigail told you about John?” She sighed as he nodded. “People are worried.”

“I know,” he murmured, “I feel like an ass, I didn’t even have a chance to think about him while we were out there.”

Her fingers stroked his hair. “Well, Sadie and I have tried to think about what to do, while the general consensus has been to just wait for Dutch, whenever he would return.”

The words just came out. “Well, I don’t know if he’s the right person to make a judgement call right now.”

She looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

He shifted a little, his thumb absent-mindedly brushing over her ring. “Somethin’ happened in Guarma.” He laughed shortly. “Well, not just Guarma. The last few months have been bad call after bad call. I can’t blame him all for that, though, it’s also circumstances but... In Guarma, he killed a woman. An old lady. With no good reason. And he... I don’t know if he’s in his right mind, anymore.”

She caressed the back of his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before murmuring, “You need sleep, Arthur Morgan.”

He smiled, realising it was the first time she’d kissed him. “Yeah, I do.”

Moving off of him carefully, she took his hand once more. “You can have my bedroll. It’s not particularly comfortable, I’m afraid, just an inch off the rickety, old boards, and we don’t have many blankets to go around. Or maybe one of the hammocks would be better—”

He rose, shaking his head. “It’ll be fine. Anythin’ is better than the floor of a boat or Guarma ground.”

She squeezed his hand. “Let’s get you some fresh clothes and something to eat first.”

He was left alone to change and eat, besides Ada sitting right beside him for the latter, though, and he was grateful for it. Charles grinned and hugged him and Sadie slapped him on the back when they returned from hunting, but they just said they were glad he was back and okay before they moved on, leaving him alone. A damn good man and woman. They all asked if he was okay at one point or another but having heard the tale already from Micah, who’d been the first off the boat and first to arrive back, they were all just glad to see he was there, letting him eat as much stew as he wanted.

It started to rain at some point, darkness falling with it, keeping everyone in the main shack, and they were all quiet, Micah, Javier and Arthur, and Uncle, of course, dozing and catching up on their sleep in hammocks while everyone else did the little odd jobs they’d got into the routine of doing. Ada caught Sadie’s eye as they cleaned their guns, sharing a warm, relieved smile.

The quiet didn’t last long, though.

“Dutch! Dutch is here!” Susan cried as she shoved the door to the main cabin open, beaming, her eyes shining.

Dutch van der Linde stepped in to the small cabin to the sound of gasps, cheers and greetings. He smiled widely at all of them, the men waking up with a start and everyone rising out of their seats. 

He could barely get a word out before Abigail was speaking over everyone, words pouring out of her.

“Dutch, Dutch, they got John!”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a gentle chuckle.

“He’s back!” Tilly cried as the men, finally out of their hammocks, entered the main room, grinning, and Uncle cheered.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes before meeting Dutch’s gaze, nodding at him and exchanging weary smiles. Everyone was crowded in the room now, standing in a circle around their king. Arthur stood beside Ada as she folded her arms, lifting her gaze and smiling at him.

He still couldn’t believe it. God, he couldn’t wait until they were alone.

She seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing as her teeth bit at her lower lip and the hint of a smirk appeared. She looked away after a moment, a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks as she turned her attention back to the room. 

Dutch was looking between them all, half in shock, half in exhaustion, shaking his head slightly.

"How’d you folks find each other? What happened?" He chuckled tiredly again. ”Can, can somebody get me a cup of coffee or somethin’?”

Pearson leapt into action, moving to the back of the cabin.

“It was Sadie and Annie who saved us and got us movin’, Dutch,” Tilly beamed, giving each of them a wide smile.

“Yes,” Herr Strauss piped up, “After the robbery in Saint Denis, they got us away from camp before any more Pinkertons could turn up. Then Mrs Adler and Mr Smith drove away the degenerates who were living here!”

Pearson returned, handing Dutch a tin cup of coffee.

“Did they, now.” Dutch looked at Sadie and Charles, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs Adler, and Mr Smith, we owe you. And...” He looked to Ada then, and... she didn’t like what she saw lingering in his gaze. “Annie. Remind me...” He exhaled a short laugh. “It’s been so long, how did you come by those blueprints of the bank, again?”

Her eyebrows rose, as did several others. She knew where this was going. Had known this was what it would come to, but she kept control. 

“At the party?” She adopted an air of faint confusion. “I went upstairs to investigate what I could and found them on a table in the mayor’s bedroom. Why?”

“What were you doing upstairs?”

This was the Dutch she knew him to be. Smiling, eyes cold.

She frowned slightly. “I just said, investigating. Like we were all there to do.”

“And they were just lying around?”

“Yes. Anyone else could have found them, Dutch. It just so happened to be me.”

“Yes, it did.”

People shifted around them, discomfort filling the air, but she just held his gaze.

“What are you implying, Dutch?”

His jaw moved, a muscle twitching, the smile gone. “I have lost three men. Two dead, one in prison and somebody is to blame for that.”

Anger was rising and she didn’t do much to stop it from seeping in to her tone. “Well, that person isn’t me.”

Silence suddenly descended.

Oh, fuck.

Then, a voice came from beside her. 

“Hosea mentioned the bank first, Dutch,” Arthur said evenly.

To her left, Sadie nodded. “If she was workin’ for Bronte, Dutch, or anyone else, she would have left. She stayed and worked harder than anyone to keep us goin’ and rebuild.”

The sudden murmurings of agreement from the group seemed to faintly rattle Dutch, to her eyes, anyway. Then, he found her gaze again, and smiled.

“My dear Annie, please forgive me. I believe my weariness from the past few weeks has clouded my judgement. I am sorry.”

She didn’t know how she managed the smile, as light as it was. “Of course, Dutch. I understand.”

Abigail stepped forward, a bowl in her hands. “Come over here and sit down, Dutch, have some food.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

The moment his back turned and conversations resumed, Ada dropped her arms and strode to the back of the cabin. Arthur caught Sadie’s eye and was taken aback to find anger in them. She nodded in the direction Ada had gone, and he headed in it.

Opening the door, the rain lighter, he stepped out onto the jetty that wrapped around the side and back of the shed, finding Ada standing at the wooden railing, her hands gripping it as she stared across the river.

“You all righ’?” he murmured, joining her.

“No.” The word leapt out of her, desperate to finally be released. “No, I’m not.” She inhaled a sharp breath. “Granted, he was partly right in his thinking, of course, I didn’t just find it but I did not do it on purpose, I did not know what it would lead to, I am not responsible for their deaths, I’m not.”

He realised, then.

She’d struggled more than she’d let on.

That’s why Sadie had looked so angry.

How many times had she had to convince Ada it hadn’t been her fault?

Had it been duty or guilt fuelling her over the past month?

“It ain’t your fault at all,” Arthur said softly, keeping his gaze on her hard features. “He was talkin’ in Guarma about... he thinks someone’s betrayin’ him.”

“Well, it’s not me.” She nearly spat the words out.

“I know, I know that.” His hand settled over hers, his thumb stroking her skin. “If he really thought it was you he wouldn’t have dropped it.”

“Maybe.”

He could feel how tense she was, see it, but this was going to have to be a conversation for another time. They were too confined, too close to the others.

“Hey,” he murmured, squeezing her hand gently, “Take me to Ophelia, I gotta see my other favourite girl.”

That made the corner of her mouth lift slightly.

“I’m competing with a horse?”

“Yeah, and I ain’t gonna lie, your chances ain’t good.”

He relaxed as she laughed and her fingers laced with his, leading him around to the front of the cabin. “Come on, then, you fool.”

Neither of them heard the quiet boots that moved along the jetty, pausing to watch them disappear out of sight.

Micah smiled as he lit himself a cigarette, his eyes shifting across to the river, watching the water move.

—

Ophelia, quite rightly, was slightly put-out when Arthur and Ada approached her. She tossed her head and whinnied loudly, snorting and eyeing Arthur.

“Hey, girl,” he murmured, releasing his hold on Ada so he could stroke Ophelia’s neck and forehead. “Hey, I’m sorry, I know, you’re all righ’, though...”

She’d told him earlier about how Sadie and Karen had found her at Shady Belle when they’d gone back to the house a few days after the failed robbery to see if any of the men were there. Men were there, but not their men. Luckily, Ophelia was smart enough to evade them and bolt away, and the two women had gone after her, finding her in a patch of woods. 

The men had been Pinkertons, and they’d soon found out after a few trips back that the men would visit the house seemingly every day, even all this time later. Sadie and someone else would still go, though, to see if any clues were left, and it was Sadie who left a letter the last time they went, knowing making so many trips was risky.

Ophelia quickly settled, pushing her muzzle against him and snorting quietly. He smiled, continuing to murmur to her. Ada couldn’t stop her own smile as she watched, before another whinny drew her attention.

"Who’s this?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as she spotted the Hungarian-Halfbred. 

Arthur glanced over, stroking his hand down Ophelia’s neck. “Ah, that’s my new friend. Hijacked her from Van Horn to get here.”

“Oh?” Her smile widened as she stepped towards the horse, stroking her fingertips against her forehead. “Well, I think I owe you a thank you and debt of gratitude, then.”

“Have her.”

Her eyebrows rose as she looked at him, patting the horse’s neck. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. She’s good, solid, not a racer but got a good speed to her.”

“Well, thank you.” Her lips twitched as she scratched behind the horse’s ear. “You know, most women get jewellery.”

“I’ll steal that next time.”

She exhaled a laugh, her smile lingering as she gazed at the horse. “Hello,” she murmured as the tall piebald nudged at her arm. “I’ll have to think of what to call you. I suppose Lucky is a little too on the nose...” Raising her voice slightly so Arthur could hear, she said, ”What about Maggie? I always liked that name. Mags for short.”

“I like it.” He opened his mouth to continue, when his gaze suddenly darted over her shoulder and he frowned.

“Bill?”

Turning, Ada watched Bill stomp towards them, pissed off as always, his beard somehow bigger.

“Oh, thank God, here is where you all is!”

Arthur sighed and approached, waving him towards the main shack. “All righ’, all righ’, Christ, come on, inside. There’s hot food and coffee.”

“Oh, thank God...” Bill sped up, moving ahead of them.

Ada laughed under her breath as she watched him, and Arthur joined her at her side. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, her’s going around his waist, they walked up to the shack together.

“Glad to have us all back, huh?”

She snorted.“Hmmh... Things will certainly be interesting again.”

When they reached the shack and entered, Bill was still grumbling on to everyone.

“... asked everyone I could find and eventually someone knew! Said you fools were out here.”

He didn’t seem to realise everyone was staring at him, and Ada felt her stomach twist.

Oh, fuck...

“Shit, get me a drink or somethin’!” he said to Sadie, the woman clearly seething.

“Get your own damn drink!” Sadie shot back.

“In our absence,” Dutch cut in before Bill could speak, his tone sharp, “Mrs Adler here has been looking after things. Now sit down.”

Bill clenched his jaw, but seemed very much cowed, and went to sit down, when the voice rang out.

“This is Agent Milton with the Pinkerton Detective Agency!”

Ada closed her eyes as people shot to their feet or hissed out a curse.

Oh, fuck...

“Already?” Dutch muttered, shocked, as she felt Arthur move behind her to peer out of a hole in the wood.

“Awh, shit...” he hissed.

“On behalf of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar,” Milton was carrying on, “the United States Government and the Commonwealth of West Elizabeth...”

“Here we go,” Dutch sighed as people drew or grabbed their guns.

“... we are here to arrest you! Come out with your hands up!”

Arthur had his back against the door, and was shrugging at Dutch as Ada turned, her jaw clenched. Arthur then moved to a window and before he could say a word to her, he was just left watching her stride to the back of the cabin as he heard Milton shout, “Let ‘em have it!”

Bullets instantly began thudding against the wood, flying through the open window and embedding into the wall.

“Get down!” Dutch yelled, and Arthur dove to the floor, watching Ada crawl across the floor to the back door.

“Arthur!” He looked to his right and saw Sadie moving, too. “Arthur, follow me!”

Gritting his teeth, he moved behind her, the bullets relentless.

“Asked everyone you could find, did you, Bill?!” he yelled as they passed the cursing man.

For once, the man had nothing to snap back, his face red.

“This is real bad!” Sadie called to him as they continued on, Ada already out of the door, rising to her feet.

He heard Tilly and Mary-Beth scream as the bullets were just not stopping.

And, yes... there was the unmistakable sound of a Gatling Gun.

“Stay down, all of you!” he shouted, when a bullet hit a lantern beside him, bursting into flames. Gritting his teeth as he and Sadie reached the door, passing through it and closing it behind them, he released a sharp breath, looking to her... and he then realised she was looking to Ada, the woman waiting for them, a revolver from her belt in her hand.

“Come on, this way,” she murmured, moving along the jetty. 

“Where are we goin’?” Arthur said, keeping his voice down as they kept low, darting across the wooden boards.

“This way,” Ada answered, moving to the right, “There’s a trapdoor into the other house.”

“We can try to flank ‘em,” Sadie added.

Then, Ada dropped out of sight, and he noticed it a moment later; a square cut out of the jetty, revealing the muddy bank below. Sadie dropped down next, then him and he just followed them as they moved quickly under the stilts and wooden boars that kept the jetty and shacks up. The gang was firing back, he could hear, the sound deafening.

There was suddenly a square of light a few feet away and they ran to it, Ada lifting herself up through it first, then Sadie then him.

“Come on, quick,” Sadie murmured to him as they made it into the house.

“You fools weren’t listening to me, were you?” they could hear Milton shouting as Sadie took one side of the front doors and Ada took the other, Arthur joining her. “I showed mercy... you mistook it for weakness!”

Sadie met Ada’s gaze when, suddenly, there was silence.

“Why've they stopped shootin’?” she hissed as Ada paused, straining to hear.

“Now...” Milton continued, his voice ringing out. “... I will show strength, and you may mistake it for brutality. There is no escape for any of you! I shall hunt you to the ends of the earth and to the end of time!”

Arthur, peering through a gap in the wood, staring at Milton, felt rage surge within him.

Not on this fuckin’ day.

Not when he’d just got those he loved dear back.

“This idiot is really startin’ to irritate me...” he murmured, his jaw tight.

Still Milton was continuing. “I’ve killed your friends, and I’ve enjoyed killing them!”

And that was it.

Pushing away from the wood, he moved passed Ada, caught the rifle Sadie threw to him and kicked the doors open.

“... and now I’m gonna kill each—” Milton started to say.

“Arthur, wait!” Ada called.

But it was too late.

“Come on!” he yelled, aiming and firing instantly.

He killed the man at the Gatling Gun as he heard Sadie and Ada firing, and shots started to come from the main shack, too. The Pinkertons scrambled for cover as he saw Ada move to his right, her body in front of his, and, God damn, did she shoot, both revolvers in her hands now.

“We need to push ‘em back!” he shouted, but the two women were already doing just that, their turn to be relentless now as they stepped forward with every Pinkerton body that went down.

The lanterns did just enough to illuminate the Pinkertons in the darkness beyond, and he didn’t think, just all hate and pain and rage for Hosea, Lenny and John.

“Take them down!” Milton was screaming, but he sounded far off.

God damn coward.

“They’re comin’ from the side!” Sadie yelled. “Come on, let’s push ‘em back, keep goin’!”

“Don’t think for one minute you’re gonna have all the fun by yourselves!” Bill called out from behind them.

He had come out of the main house now, joining them and firing at the new wave of men approaching. They all took their own route through the wagons and sheds, fanning out and crouching and rising to dodge bullets and shoot back.

“Get them, get them, get them!” Milton thundered, but he sounded even further off, possibly retreating.

Good.

“They’re hidin’ in the trees!” Arthur called out. “Get after ‘em!” 

They used the darkness to their advantage now, hunting the men down. Bullets struck the trees around him, not one finding their mark.

“We’ll kill every last one of ya!” Sadie yelled from somewhere close by, and she ran past him suddenly, overtaking him.

“I have had it with you bastards!” Bill was also shouting, but Ada, wherever she was, was silent.

Oh, God, please...

Then, he saw her, far up to the right, aiming and shooting, aiming and shooting, her features like pure, relentless thunder. There would be the fire burning in her eyes and, God, he had missed her.

“We need someone back here!” he suddenly heard Dutch from back behind them. “They’re comin’ down the main path!”

He saw Ada lift her head, and she started to stride towards the path.

“There’s more of them! Get on the Gatling Gun, Arthur!” she called to him as she broke out into a run.

He started running instantly. Shouldering the rifle, he pulled himself up into the wagon holding the gun as Sadie followed after him, using the wagon as cover, and to protect him. Swinging the gun around, he fired at the main path, feeling the power of the Gatling shaking his arms.

The Pinkertons shouted to each other, ducking for cover or even trying to run back, but he could see, behind a thick tree, Ada shooting them down.

“More on the left here!” Bill called.

“And to the right!” Sadie joined in.

“Keep your head down, I’m swingin’ this around!” Arthur shouted. “Keep your heads down!”

His people ducked and he fired in a circle, knocking down several of the remaining men.

“There’s more of them moving in!” Charles called, out of the shack now and somewhere in the darkness.

“Charles, this way!” he heard Ada yell from somewhere else.

He was distracted by the Gatling juddering slightly, out of bullets. Leaping over the side of the wagon, he shrugged the rifle off of his shoulder and joined Sadie, helping her on her side.

Suddenly, there was a small explosion to the left, and he and Sadie jerked, their heads whipping to it. Ada and Charles rose out of the darkness, shooting at the men who tried to scramble from the flames.

“That’s it! Run, you spineless sons of bitches!” Bill hollered, and, yes, Arthur could see them, retreating and running for the darkness.

Charles and Ada didn’t seem in merciful moods, though. They followed after them and Arthur watched man after man fall.

“Arthur!” Sadie’s voice caught his attention. Turning to her, he found her smiling. “We did it! That’s the last of ‘em!”

Then, there was silence.

Not allowing a sigh of relief yet, he squeezed Sadie’s shoulder as they rose, his gaze darting between the trees.

“I think you might be righ’...”

They moved to the main path, keeping a tight grip on their weapons.

“Annie? Charles?” he called out, seeing no sign of them.

Then, he saw them, moving up the path towards them.

“Here!” Ada called, a smile pulling at her lips as Charles walked by her side.

All the tension left his body as he blew out a breath, Sadie chuckling beside him, and Ada smiled, looking up at Charles who returned it. He patted her on the back as they neared and she said something Arthur couldn’t hear that made him chuckle.

“Well, that was a nice bit of excitement,” Sadie sighed cheerfully as she turned and headed back to the shed, Bill close behind her. Charles patted Arthur on the arm as he passed, Ada stopping before him, her smile lingering.

“You all righ’?” he asked, his tone softening.

“Just fine. You?”

“Yeah.”

The smirk returned to her lips, and he opened his mouth to speak when she closed the distance between them and gripped the front of his shirt, keeping him close as she tilted her head back, rose up on her toes and captured his lips.

His arm instantly went around her, keeping her tight against him as he revelled in every second of the kiss. She hummed against his lips, a sound akin to a moan, and he fisted her shirt, answering with a groan.

God, he had missed her, missed this, missed just being around her and feeling her and—

“Hey!”

They drew their heads back and looked to Sadie, a grin on her lips and an eyebrow arched. “C’mon, get in here, ya love birds.”

“Yeah, thank you for ruining that, we’re coming!” Ada called as Arthur chuckled.

“You’re welcome!” came the jovial response as Sadie disappeared inside the shack. 

The rain started to pick up a little again as they moved towards the house, arms around each other.

When they were a few feet away, though, Dutch stepped out onto the jetty and moved down the few steps towards them, Micah close behind him.

“You saved us, Arthur,” Dutch said, looking very weary as he surveyed the bodies and mess.

“Well, me ‘nd Annie, Sadie, Bill ‘nd Charles,” he answered, keeping his arm around Ada who was silent.

“Yes, indeed,” Dutch smiled, meeting his gaze.

“Well,” Micah said, sitting on a step. “We ain’t been back for more than a few hours, and look at this...”

“What do we do, Dutch?” Arthur said without thinking. Force of habit, and he felt it.

“Well, clearly we need to leave,” Dutch said, a slight bite to his tone. “It’ll take them sometime to regroup.”

Micah was suddenly off the step, approaching Dutch with his hands on his hips.

Damn idiot’s tryna look like he’s part of the organisin’.

“Mr Pearson, Miss Grimshaw,” Dutch continued, calling back up to the shack as people looked out, “start packin’ up. Javier, you and Bill, get outta here. Go and scare off any scum still loiterin’ about. We need a couple of days...” He took a breath, then his shoulders dropped as he waved his hand. “Now go, please, gentlemen!”

They left with their instructions, leaving Micah, Arthur, Ada, Sadie and Abigail around him.

“What next, Dutch?” Arthur murmured, his eyes remaining on Dutch because... there didn’t seem to be much of a plan.

Dutch braced his hands against the wagon beside him, leaning against it as he released a breath. “We just need some time, I just, I, I need some time,” he stuttered slightly. “Now, we can’t go east, ‘cause then we’ll be in the ocean, so we’re gonna have to go north, I guess?” Arthur chest hurt as he looked at him fumble for an answer. “I just need somebody to buy me some,” his tone rose slightly as he slammed his fist down on the wagon, “God damn time, one of you.” He straightened, looking between them but not quite meeting their eyes.

“You’ll figure it out, boss,” Micah said gently, “You always do.”

“What are you gonna do about John, Dutch?” Abigail piped up, and, God damn, Arthur could see him being overwhelmed.

“John?” Dutch said, his gaze finding her.

Abigail frowned slightly. “He’s in jail.”

“W-we’ll get him, Abigail,” Dutch stammered even as he raised his hands in what once would have been a soothing gesture. “Just not, not yet.”

“There’s talk of hangin’ him,” Abigail shot back, her tone now rising.

“It’s not gonna come to that,” Dutch dismissed as he turned away.

“Dutch!” Abigail called after him, and Arthur felt Ada beside him, stiff and unmoving.

Dutch was already walking away, though, heading up to the shack, Micah following him. “Not now, Miss, I...” He waved his hand without turning. “... Not now.”

They watched him disappear inside. Before any of them could speak, Abigail turned to them suddenly, her eyes shining as she lowered her voice.

“I’m beggin’ you three, he’s...” She swallowed, looking between them. “... They’re gonna hang him. It would break my...” She looked away from them as she shook her head. “... the boy’s heart.” She looked back to them. “Please do something.”

“We will,” Sadie murmured, squeezing her arm in reassurance.

Abigail nodded, swallowed and then turned and walked away quickly, her arms folding.

Arthur blew out a breath as he met Sadie’s gaze.

“Okay,” she murmured to them, “That’s it, I’m gonna go figure out how we rescue this bastard.”

“Now?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Yes, now,” she insisted, “I’ll go into Saint Denis, see what I can find out.”

“Okay,” Ada answered before Arthur could, her tone just as quiet. “Will you be back for the morning?”

“Oh, you know I will,” the other woman replied, a grin pulling at her lips. “Damn, I’ve missed all this excitement.”

Ada smiled as Sadie nodded at them before striding for her horse. “A one woman army,” she murmured, drawing a chuckle from Arthur.

“That she is.”

Taking in a breath, Ada looked up at him and took his hand. “Right, then, bed for you, cowboy.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.”

—

“This is close, ain’t it?”

“What was it before?”

He snorted, settling on his side, his back to the thin cloth that acted as a curtain between them and the other ladies and Jack. Luckily, they were all asleep by now, exhausted from the excitement and activities of the day. The wooden boards a foot or so away was scorched from where the lantern had erupted earlier, but it was still intact and sturdy. Ada stepped across it, glancing out of the window, before she crouched and moved under the small, raised platform above that Sadie used to sleep on. Unbuckling her gunbelt and placing it to the side, she then untucked her blouse from her skirt and lay beside him, her back to his chest. His arm went around her, holding her against him.

She exhaled a long breath as her hand slid under his, making their fingers lace together.

“What a God damn mess...” he murmured after a few moments.

She hummed her agreement, and he wished he could see her face.

“Don’t think about that now, just get some rest.”

He was only quiet for less than a minute.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here.”

He felt her hand tighten on his slightly.

“Of course I’m still here.”

Christ, the way she said it, the conviction... He wished it was just them two. He wished he could just... He wanted to put his mouth on her, to relearn all of her and just—

“I’ve got your journal.”

“Really?”

He could hear the smile in her weary voice. “Yeah. It’s one of the things that was saved. Mary-Beth ran up and got it.”

He paused. “Did you read it?”

She shook her head slightly. “No. Didn’t feel right to.”

“You should’ve.”

“Why?”

“Could’ve told you what I stupidly didn’t. How much you mean to me.”

She was quiet for several moments, to the point where he thought she might have fallen asleep and not heard him. He was about to close his eyes when she moved their hands up and pressed a long, lingering kiss to the back of his hand.

“Sleep now,” she whispered, tucking their hands under her chin.

—

The early morning light spilled in through the window, growing moment by moment. She could see dust dancing in it, endlessly falling. She followed the beam, her gaze reaching his features, the sunlight illuminating him in the semi-darkness of the shack.

She didn’t take her eyes off of him as she pulled her blouse on.

She’d missed him. Almost unbearably. She’d cried night after night after night as quietly as she could behind one of the shacks, face in her hands. Sadie had known, obviously. She’d given her her space, though, which she’d greatly appreciated.

Arthur wasn’t a distraction. He wasn’t something to take her mind off of her anxieties and irritations, he was... He was everything. He was what she wanted, what she needed, and everything that lay in between.

The separation had revealed that to her. It had also revealed that she could live this life nearly on her own, could look after and lead people, but she didn’t want to. She wanted someone, him, by her side.

And what he’d said last night... She thought her heart was going to burst.

She couldn’t help but think, then, of the girl she’d been before, the girl from Strawberry, the girl who’d wished and waited for more.

If only I could tell you what was coming.

And there was still more to come. More unnecessary gambles and putting people’s lives on the line, and Dutch... Something had changed in him, rather visibly, and Arthur had noticed it, too, even before what had occurred with the Pinkertons the previous night.

She thought she would have revelled in that moment, when he told her his doubts about Dutch. Would have had to have stopped herself from saying ‘I told you so’, but she had just felt... sad. It wasn’t the victory she had dreamed about. Despite all she and Sadie had done, leadership was now well and truly back in Dutch’s hands, even if he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. She’d had to bite her tongue when he’d looked all them all, helpless and without a plan.

  The kingdom was falling, and the king was the cause.

She’d have to talk with Sadie and Arthur, plan what their next and final move should be because this couldn’t carry on any longer.

Arthur jolted awake beside her suddenly, making her blink and return to the present. She watched as he realised and remembered where he was before his eyes found hers. She smiled softly, finishing buttoning up her blouse.

“Good morning,” she murmured.

“Hey.” He rubbed at his eyes groggily, taking her in. She was out of the blouse and skirt from the day before, now in trousers and a cream blouse, her gunbelt back around her waist. ���Where’re you goin’?”

“Sadie and I heard about an O’Driscoll camp not too far from here the other day. We planned to go and check it out this morning.”

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Okay, but we gotta move on.”

She reached over and pulled her boots closer, pulling them on. “Yeah, but that probably won’t happen ‘till tomorrow morning, though. We have to figure out where to go, exactly. Be smart about our next move because we can’t take another surprise like last night.”

He gazed at her, feeling both sad and in awe.

There was the leader she’d had to become.

Clearing his throat, he leaned up on an elbow. “D’you want me to come?”

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she finished lacing one boot and started on the other. “No, thank you. This is ladies business.”

“Ah, I understand.” He smiled, scratching at his beard.

God, I need a shave.

She finished lacing her boot and reached over to take a sheathed knife that lay on a folded pile of her clothes. It wasn’t the one Sean had given her, he noted as she pushed it into her boot.

“Hey.”

She looked to him as she finished tying her hair back with a black ribbon, raising her eyebrows a little.

“C’mere.”

Her smile returned as she leaned down at his murmured request and pressed her lips to his. He couldn’t help but groan quietly, his hand moving around to settle on her lower back to draw her closer. He felt her smile widen a little against his lips as her fingertips brushed under his chin.

“I have to go...” she murmured, doing very little to actually pull away.

“One more minute won’t hurt,” he drawled, his fingers caressing her back.

She exhaled a laugh, pulling her head back just slightly. “Do you want Sadie bursting in here?”

“Hell no,” he muttered as he released her, making her laugh again as she pulled back.

“Well, then...” She pulled a thin, dark brown jacket on as she arched an eyebrow. “Besides, you need to rest. Sleep, Arthur Morgan.”

“I know what I need.”

She did her very best to look scandalised as she swatted his caressing hand away, smiling. “Plenty of rest before any of that.”

There was a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Why, I don’t have to do any movin’.”

She gave a quiet gasp of disbelief even as she grinned, shaking her head. “You are a scoundrel.”

“You love it.”

Before she could respond, he leaned up and settled a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer and kissing her again. Her body instantly relaxing and pressing against his did wonders for his ego. Yet, alas, a few moments later she broke the kiss and licked her lips to hide a smile.

“Come on, Morgan, let me go.”

“If I have to,” he grumbled, releasing her and watching her as she got to her feet, moving out from under the platform.

She grinned at how put-out he looked.

Like a cat that hadn’t been fed the moment it was hungry.

Ada pressed her lips together, though, when he also pushed himself up, grunting as he hit his head on the platform and muttering out a curse. Stepping out from under the platform, he rubbed his head and nodded towards the front of the shack.

“C’mon, I’ll see you out.”

Her hand found his as they walked out into the cool, damp morning air, the trees too thick to allow much light in to warm and harden the mud. She was about to turn to him and order him back to bed when Dutch’s voice sounded.

“White to D4...”

They turned together, finding Dutch sat on a chair on the jetty to their left, looking out across the water. Ada released Arthur’s hand as he frowned, watching the older man move his hands slightly as he stared out.

“... White to D4...”

She patted his arm and met his gaze, smiling lightly, then walked down the steps, giving him space. Rolling his shoulders, he took a breath and approached the man.

“You okay, there?” he asked gently.

“Workin’ it all out,” Dutch responded, not looking at him. “Once and for all, Arthur.”

Arthur hummed, leaning back against the railing and folding his arms, watching Dutch closely. “What now?”

Dutch’s gaze shifted to him. “We’re back... And I’m sittin’ here, and I am contemplatin’ the great journey of the sun, and considerin’ a famous chess move.” Arthur scratched his beard, his gaze briefly rising to meet Ada’s a little way off, her eyebrows raised. Dutch didn’t notice, his eyes back on the water as he continued. “Those oily enactors of a mediocre justice, the Pinkertons and their benefactor, the depressing millionaire Leviticus Cornwall, they want us, Arthur.” His voice had risen in agitation, his fists clenched. “They want us, and they are goin’ to have us.”

Arthur kept his own tone light. “Well, maybe they ain’t the problem.”

“Meanin’?” Dutch snapped.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, it’s just, well...” He chuckled slightly, then paused. “... I can’t help but feel we would’ve been better runnin’ off someplace else.”

Dutch now chuckled. “But the, the game ain’t over, Arthur. I mean, I ain’t, I ain’t played my, my final move but...”

As he trailed off slightly, Arthur had to stop himself from gritting his teeth. “I guess I’m more interested in savin’ lives than winnin’ at chess.”

“Then maybe life ain’t such a thing to cling onto so tightly!”

“No doubt,” Arthur quickly said, before gesturing towards the shack. “But what about the women?”

Dutch paused then, his hands dropping to his lap. He was quiet for a few moments. “You sound like Hosea,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I miss...” He took a breath, raising his eyes to the sky. “... him.”

It broke Arthur’s heart because, God, he did, too, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t back down. “I asked you a question.”

Dutch looked at him. “What do you think?”

Arthur shook his head. “We can’t stay here. That much is obvious. But where are we gonna run to? I mean they chased us from the west, they chased us over the mountains, they ran us into the sea—”

“Arthur...” Dutch had closed his eyes for a few moments, rubbing his temple. He looked at him. “... do you have my back?”

Arthur looked at him, his hands on his belt. He felt angry. “Always, Dutch... but there’s more than your back to worry about.” Dutch looked away but Arthur carried on. “We need more money. We’ve been on the run for months now, and I seen you...” He lowered his voice as he leaned closer, some of the anger seeping in to his tone. “... killin’ folk in cold blood, like you always told me not to!” His voice had risen, though, as Dutch stood, shaking his head and stepping away, resting his hands on the railing. Still he carried. “And, I’m sorry, but I think that if we listened to Annie and Sa—”

“There is country in Roanoke Ridge, past Butcher Creek, I believe we could hold,” Dutch spoke over him.

Arthur couldn’t help it, the sense of relief that there was a plan of some kind. “Okay.”

“And you and Charles, you could take folks up that way. Micah...” Dutch trailed off for a moment, looking across the water. “... and I need to do some reconnaissance. I ain’t got a final plan, yet.” He turned to Arthur suddenly. “Arthur, I ain’t got a...” He trailed off again. “... I just need time.” He looked at him. “I need time, and no traitors.”

Arthur just looked at him, silent. Then, he turned and moved away, heading towards Ada.

She watched Dutch, his gaze dropping as he sat back down, his back to them. Her eyes slid to Arthur’s, her jaw clenched. She’d had to hold her tongue from snapping that Arthur needed rest, they all did, he and Micah included, and that she and Sadie could handle things, like that had been doing.

Her heart had fluttered slightly when Arthur had started to suggest that, but, there would always be only one leader here. Inclining her head, she gestured for Arthur to follow her as she turned and headed for the horses. Raising her gaze, she saw Sadie coming down the main path, raising her hand to acknowledge her as she drew her horse to a halt.

Arthur sighed heavily as he neared, running a hand down his mouth.

“Do you know it?” he asked quietly, watching her as she adjusted the stirrups on Maggie’s saddle. “Roanoke Ridge?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, taking a Repeater from the shed beside them and slotting it into the holster on the saddle. “There’s some caves up there, the locals call it Beaver Hollow.” She paused, then turned to him. “Be careful.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “We will.”

“I mean it. I don’t like it up there, Arthur, it’s...” She shrugged slightly. “It just feels strange. Charles and Sadie have run into the people who occupy the caves, the Murfree Brood, a couple of times, as I’m sure Charles will tell you, but...” She released a breath, gazing at him. “... Be vigilant, please.”

He stepped closer, his gentle smile returning. “Always am.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly, but she couldn’t help her own small smile. “We both know that’s a lie, Arthur Morgan.” She placed a hand on his chest, patting gently. “See you later.”

He caught her arm gently as she went to turn, drawing her closer. “Hey...”

She leaned into the soft kiss he claimed her lips with, her eyes falling shut. Sadie’s distant, pointed cough made her pull back after several moments, her smile wider. Gripping Maggie’s saddle, she pulled herself up and gathered the reins, gazing down at him.

Patting the horse’s neck, his smile lingered. “Come back to me, Miss Sawyer.”

“I will,” she answered, her features softening, before she turned Maggie as he stepped away, and headed for Sadie.

Arthur gripped his belt as he watched them, Sadie grinning at her and tossing her a couple of boxes of ammunition as she neared.

He watched them ride off, a tightening and anxiety in his chest he hadn’t felt before.

—

It had been far too easy rounding them up. Ada paced before the six kneeling men, tapping her revolver against her leg.

“I’m gonna ask again, and I’ll warn you, I’m really running out of patience.” She stopped in the middle of them, sighing. “Do any of you know Thomas O’Driscoll?”

A greying man tutted as he pulled a face. “Shit, you probably shot five Thomas O’Driscoll’s here, lady.”

She looked at him. “Colm O’Driscoll’s nephew. That Thomas O’Driscoll.”

There was silence, the men glancing at each other or staring at the ground suddenly. Ada glanced at Sadie who arched an eyebrow. That was different. The men would usually holler that they didn’t know a damn thing or plead that they didn’t know anything.

Ada returned her attention to them, looking from man to man. “Who can tell me where he is?”

The silence continued.

“Don’t make this hard for yourselves, boys,” Sadie called from behind her.

One of the men lifted his head and looked behind her, to Sadie, she thought. Then, he shot to his feet.

“Get ‘em, lads!”

“Shit,” Ada hissed as the men scattered and she spun, seeing a group of men running through the trees towards them, firing.

“Fuck, they must have gone out huntin’!” Sadie called as they ran for cover.

Darting behind trees, Ada gritted her teeth as the men they’d had captured moments before found their guns and joined in the firing. Flinching as bullets flew past them, some striking their trees, she looked to Sadie.

“Shit, there’s too many of ‘em, we better go!” Sadie called to her.

“We should spilt up and draw them off so they don’t follow us back to camp!”

Sadie nodded, gripping her rifle. “All righ’, I’ll meet you in Van Horn!”

“All right, be careful! I’ll give you cover!”

The trees were close enough together that Sadie could dodge bullets as she ran, weaving between them. Ada leaned out, firing at men. They were also hiding behind trees, though, giving no one an advantage. Bullets came from behind her, and she knew Sadie was firing to give her cover, so, taking a breath, she lunged to the left and ran. They had found the men at a top of the hill, so she took the route down the incline, sliding down it slightly.

“Go on, get ‘er! We got the other one!” 

Oh, shit. Well, now I know the plan worked...

She sprinted as she reached the bottom, the men who were following her, mercifully, not firing. She and Sadie had left their horses some way back, near the road so they wouldn’t have drawn attention, but how the hell would she get to them from here?

She veered left suddenly, hoping she was going somewhat in the right direction.

“No, don’t, wait!”

No, thanks, I think I’ll keep running—

Something landed a little way behind her, and there was an almighty explosion. She grunted as the ground shifted beneath her, the force of it knocking her to the floor. She felt the heat of it on her back, the dust and dirt it threw up filling her lungs. Gasping in a breath, she grabbed the revolver that had fallen out of her hand and crawled forward, quickly pulling herself behind a boulder.

Coughing in to her arm to try and muffle the sound, she closed her eyes at the sound of movement several feet away.

“That’s his fuckin’ niece, you fuckin’ idiot! He’s been lookin’ for her!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know! Please, don’t, I—”

She jumped as a gunshot went off and a body fell, frozen in her spot.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

—

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[whirlybirbs]

"let me buy you a drink" w/ punchy + drunk!poe

» BAR BRAWL!

summary: things were good, then an old friend of poe joins the resistance. sura likes jessika, poe likes you, you think poe like sura... it’s a mess. and then, enter gret franz. cue the bar brawl.pairing: poe dameron x cadet!reader, punchyrating: t for some drinking references, bar fights over a girla/n:  a drabble based off poe + punchy from pre-flight check! this operates along their story-line, after the mission and pre-getting-together! this got long so.... here we are.

The base’s cantina is where, at any give point on a Friday night, you can find nearly all of the Resistance's Starfighter Corp. Dagger, Stiletto, Cobalt and especially Black Squadron all operated under the age-old guise of: work hard, party harder.

Karé and Jessika insist you deserve a round or two on them after the bantha-shit you’d been dragged through all week; you’d been off your game ever since returning back from the Voss mission. Blame a certain Black Leader for that. You feel like you can’t go anywhere without --

“Look who it is!”

You try to avoid Poe’s gaze as you rendezvous with the other half of Black Squadron.

Snap Wexley greets Karé is a smile and a kiss. That riles a chorus of chirps and jeers from the squadron. You greet Oddy, L’ulo and Snap with quick knuckle bumps and high-fives (each personalized, of course), before offering Poe a curt nod from around Jessika. 

He swigs his beer. 

Awkward.

"Who are we toasting tonight?” Oddy chirps, eyes bright as he moves to toss a credit towards the bartender. 

Jessika’s hand come down on your shoulders and she shakes you in good fun. “We’re getting Punchy messed up tonight.”

“No, c’mon --” you mumble, raising your hands, “I’ve had a shit week enough --”

“No,” it’s Karé this time, “No backing out, you agreed to get wild with us -- girls night, remember?”

“Speaking of...” Snap leans, elbowing Poe in the ribs, “Look who just got here.”

You watch the exchange, eyes narrowing as you spot Poe’s brows dart upwards. The back door of the cantina swings open and through the dimly lit, crowded room, you see her.

Suralinda Javos is new. 

From what you were able to gather from Snap and L’ulo, she’s retired New Republic Navy -- she worked as a journalist for a bit and after a visit gone awry, Poe recruited her for the Resistance. There’s, apparently, a mixed history there. And that is cause enough for you to dislike her. 

God, you wish you could wipe that look off’s Poe face. She’s not even that great. Okay, fine, she’s beautiful. And tall. And lean and dangerous and cunning and...

You feel like a T-40 X-Wing, and she’s latest model when she walks in the room.

Not to mention the clash of personalities. 

She was promoted to Crimson Squadron’s flight commander in the matter of a week, no doubt for word down the chain.

You are, by no means, by the book -- but the Squamatan is chaos in the sky. You nearly throttled your helmet through your windshield after drills one day when you watched Poe leap from his cockpit, cheering and commending her and loving how reckless she was. 

So, yeah, there’s maybe a little jealousy there. Reckless was your thing. And when you were reckless, Poe just... got all huffy and did his usual ‘kid’ routine. 

“I could go for that round about now,” you deadpan, ignoring the way every pilot in the bar seems to gravitate to the teal-skinned Squamatan, “Anyone else?”

A gruff grunt. It’s Jessika. “Yep.”

“Count me in.”

Karé and Jessika had, really, been your saving grace post-Voss; they were kind enough to listen to you rant and rave -- and eventually help you navigate yourself to the point of, yeah, you didn’t hate Poe. The self-exploration stopped there, though. Whatever this was happened to be a bit more complicated than not-hate. You couldn’t say you you were excited to admit that you didn’t hate Poe at all, quite the opposite, because having feelings for your flight-Commander is so not good.

So, you shut up and pull your big-girl flight suit up, because you were content on just being good with Poe. 

No arguments, no side-hand comments, no butting-of-heads. You’d even smiled at him after drills; it was like the sweetest sucker punch in the world.

Until this week.

It was too good. And then Suralinda traipsed into it all.

Long story short, Jessika and Karé can’t stand her either. Which, honestly, is so not your vibe. You were very anti pitting-girls-against-girls because of shared interest in a man, but you’ve always been bullheaded and Jessika and Karé are good friends. 

And, right now, beside the very gorgeous Suralinda, you’re thankful for good friends. 

“Hey, you.”

You scoff at Poe’s greeting for the Crimson Leader. Suralinda offers a big smile, hand moving for his arm. “Hey!”

Jessika and Karé shoulder you, muscling you down the line and far from the interaction happening -- all before leaning over the bar and gesturing for a round of shots. And that is pretty much how the night goes. Little by little, the Squadron joins you and the girls.

Poe and Suralinda continue their cosmic level flirting, and you settle on joking with the rest of Black Squadron. 

You’re trying to stack shot glasses when a hand on your shoulder interrupts. 

You turn, buzz spinning the room in the best way. 

And there’s Gret Franz, Dagger Squadron’s offensive left-wing -- tall, dark, handsome. His smile is lopsided and dangerous and you’re hooked; everyone knows Gret is a flirt, but suddenly you’re in the spotlight and you can’t get enough of it.

And Poe? Poe’s all set, thanks. 

“What’s up with that?” Suralinda asks, brows quirked as she juts her chin to motion in your direction.

Poe’s entire face falls.

He hates how sweet your smile is then. It reminds him of the one you’d spared him on the space depot, all toothy and bright. Dimples dig into your cheeks and Poe watches as Gret Franz makes you laugh. Actually laugh. And makes half his squadron laugh, too. 

“You like her,” Sura chirps, “Don’t you?”

Poe’s known Suralinda since his first year in the academy -- and though L’ulo and Oddy like to tease, their friendship is only platonic; any romance was blasted out the airlock Poe’s second year when Suralinda shut him down hard and fast. 

Poe, it’s not you, really, she’d said one night, seriously, I don’t swing that way. 

Suralinda’s just trying to get an in to make moves on Jessika. All those risky flight maneuvers, all the lunches in the mess at Black Squadron’s table... and still, Jessika Pava is a little too busy being a good friend to even notice the advances. 

Nothing ever works smoothly with Resistance Starfighters and romance. It’s just not how the gears roll. 

“No,” he says it too fast. Sura rolls her eyes, “She’s... we’re just squad-mates.”

“Is that why you don’t like her?”

Yeah, duh, fraternization isn’t just a Navy rule. Poe says nothing, only moves from his post at the bar to shoulder his way down the line. 

Something spikes a hot anger in his gut when Gret’s hands move to your lower back, leaning over you to press his chest to your back. The proximity stirs a jealousy in him that he tries to push away, but... he’s tipsy. And ---

And Gret is a trash flight-leader.

Imagine your surprise when you’re suddenly not only the subject of Gret’s attention, but Poe’s -- the curly haired commander arrives at your other side, nudging you and offering a slow smile. Gret notes the man by your side and sudden center of your attention. 

Poe and Gret’s gazes connect.

At once, both of them blurt out:

“Let me buy you a drink.”

You have to do a double take. The Squadron behind you falls into a heavy silence at the sudden rivalry being created -- you turn to look at them both, shifting from foot to foot then, eyes darting between the flight-leaders. You blink, mouth falling open as you try to find the right words to say. 

The shots have your thoughts working slow, sticky like honey.

“Really --”

“No,” Poe laughs, “I insist, man --”

“I thought you were busy --” Gret chirps, “With Sura.”

“Sura and I --” Poe says with a tight smile, blinking up at the taller pilot, “... are just friends. So, why don’t you run along back to Dagger Squadron’s little corner and let me buy my Lieutenant a drink?”

The bar now, has their attention trained on the growing tension between the two men, voices stifled and eyes drawn. The bar seems to back up two paces, making room with the egos clashing. 

“Oh,” it’s a sharp laugh, “Big talk coming from you.”

“From me? Yeah?”

“Last I checked,” Gret jabs, “You got laid out by your Lieutenant. Twice.”

Poe’s jaw clenches. You can see the anger there. He wets his lips, swallowing before turning his head to shoot Snap a look; for a second, you think maybe Poe’s going to back off. And then, brown eyes land on you.

“She’s got a mean hook.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Poe pokes the bear. 

“Too bad she’s not into academy drop-outs, Gret.”

Then, you watch Gret, aforementioned New Republic Navy Academy dropout, land a hit on Poe. You’re, honestly, blown by it -- mostly because starting fights was more your thing than it was Poe’s thing. Secondly, because the whole bar proceeds to erupt into a brawl, seemingly over the rivalry created in an instant over buying you a drink. Fittingly enough, though, when your brain and body decide to get it together through the haze of enough alcohol to knock a Tauntaun out, you’re the one that ends the fight.

“Enough!”

The shriek stills the bar as you pull Poe and Gret from each other. Black Squadron, in various ends of the cantina, cease their punching. The whole corp follows suite. 

You swallow, hair wild as you try and catch your breath. Standing and squaring your shoulders, you speak slowly.

Your speech is slurred, face hot. You jam your finger into Poe’s chest, ignoring the split lip. You lean, staggering a bit.

“I... will buy myself a drink.”

And like that, it’s settled.

You buy yourself a drink. And Poe goes home with his ego (and his jaw) bruised.