#and i immediately knew that given the amount of panic they are in would prompt them to finally go to ortega for help

[aro-ortega]

love that i came up w the idea for vanya to stay w chen post epilogue before even knowing that was an option

[dovesdreaming]

hello my love! i saw call it what you want on your song prompt list and immediately thought it would work so well with our dear bucky barnes! also your blog looks so cute im in love!

Call it what you want (to)

Hi!! Thank you! And thank you for this request I loved writing it so much, bucky was who I was picturing when I put it on the prompt list so I hope I did it justice! (especially since I think Bucky is quite a complex character) If you want a version relating to more of the lyrics instead of just the necklace line I am down to do that!

Warnings: none + reader doesn’t have specified race picture is just for necklace!

Bucky had been through a lot. Everything he once knew as reality was ripped away from him . When he joined the avengers he had to start his life from the beginning, he had no belongings and no sense of self anymore. This meant that when he got new possessions he became protective over them not wanting to share them in anyway, he was resource guarding.

His most protected item of them all were his dog tags, the only connection he has to the man he was before hydra. He wore them around his neck at all times, grabbing them between his fingers as a soothing action when he’s in a state of panic. His real name dented into the metal: James Buchanan barnes. Yet when you entered his life he couldn’t find it in himself to be as protective of them anymore. He used to bat peoples hand away when they reach for them during conversations with him. Yet when you sat with him and took them between your hands he didn’t feel anything but love for you. His heart increased ten times when he saw how much love you had for past him and present him. It healed parts of his well-being he didn’t knew he needed to heal.

Bucky even surprised himself when he had put the dog tags round your neck when you both had been cuddling in bed catching up on one of the many movies he had missed. He had been hesitant to touch you within the start of your relationship but you both took it slow, you understood what he had been through and never pressured him. You didn’t react much when he put the tags round your neck you only smiled lovingly at him, slowly leaning in to peck his lips. Bucky never took his dog tags back and they became your soother in moments of panic having a reminder of bucky close by. He fell impossibly deeper in love with you that day he gave you them and everyday since. He got to see his name round your neck everyday but it wasn’t a possessive thing, no he didn’t own you but it was a reminder that he really knew you inside and out and you the same for him. He would runaway with you any day if you ever asked, he would follow you to the ends of the earth.

Extra scene:

Bucky like the look of his name round your neck so much that he went out and bought a necklace that had the initial j on it. He organised a fancy dinner in your favourite restaurant on the balcony over looking the city at night. You didn’t need to say much to each other anymore you both knew near enough everything about each other. Most of the date was spent with small talk and comfortable silence while holding hands over the table, staring into each others eyes. When it neared the end of the date Bucky pulled out a black box and slid it across the table to you. You slowly opened it to reveal the perfect little necklace to match you dog tags. Bucky got up and tied it around your neck for you, moving any hair that was in the way. He told you that it was his version of a promise ring, that he promised he would spend the rest of his life loving you if you let him. With the mix of champagne and copious amounts of love from Bucky you were overflowing with happiness, content with where life had taken you. You knew that Bucky hadn’t given you the necklace as a sign of ownership to other men, he gave it you because he really knew you. You didn’t need to save each other anymore, you would runaway with him any day.

Thank you for reading!

[v3nusxsky]

OMG i have an idea imagine motherly Lesso adopt the reader 🥹

P.S hope you have an amazing day/night ily

Hello lovely anon, I had so much fun with this one. Lesso would be an amazing mother♥️ I hope you have an amazing day/night and enjoy the fic.

But what is blood relation really

*Authors note~ okay so this was a slightly harder prompt for me as it was purely free reign for the plot, so please if the lovely anon who sent it would like something changed or edited feel free to pop me a message*

Trigger warnings~ adoption past child abuse

Prompt ~ see ask^^^

You knew your secret would come out sooner or later, yet you wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. Not because you were ashamed, no it was because you didn't want the looks of pitty or comments about how you were being favoured or treated any differently to the other students. Especially as you were an Ever, if the truth was to come out it would be devastating for you and your mother.

Mother. A funny word and not one you had ever thought you'd use and truly mean. All your life the women who had given birth to you had acted as anything but the women who was meant to keep you safe and show you unconditional love and support. All she ever showed you was hurt and pain. That had resulted in severe neglect and abuse, that no child should ever have to experience in their life. So the day you were taken from her care was like a miracle for you. Although you had no idea where you would go or what would happen to you, you couldn't help but be relieved at the fact that chapter of your book had ended.

Ending up at the school for Good and Evil was the best thing that had happened to you. Your adopted mother worked there and truthfully it felt like one big massive family. Something you'd never had, so when your secret came out you were distraught. The peaceful life you'd been blessed with was now being cruelly snatched away. Only because an Ever had over head Professor Dovey saying your name. Your full name. Y/n Lesso. That was it. The Ever student began digging into your past in very un ever like ways. Things that should've been locked away and kept to past memories were now being brought up.

Once they had all the information they decided to out you in the middle of a whole school assembly. The tears prickled your eyes as you saw the familiar pictures and documents you'd tried to forget. Then there was audio tapes all detailing the horrific abuse you had experienced. You felt sick to your stomach at seeing if all once more, the memories resurfacing causing you to panic. You immediately fled the assembly in a panic making your way to your mothers office, you knew she would follow. And true to that she did, about five steps behind you.

Only when the door was shut and you were safe did you allow yourself to break down, your adoptive mother instantly taking you in her arms to cradle you in a way she knew brought you comfort. She knew that pushing you to talk while you were reliving the past was pointless, it would only make you worse and that was the last thing she wanted, so instead she settled for cooing comforting words of reassurance as she rocked you gently. Truthfully the way you were being held and rocked would embarrass you if it was with anyone else but her.

"Little dove, you're safe now. Remember that momma has you now. You're safe with me and I won't ever hurt you like that, I promise you little one." She murmured seemingly on a loop. Eventually, she managed to break into your panicked brain. "Momma?" You whimpered out, her heart broke for how you seemed to be that scared little one she brought to the school all those years ago. "That's right my dove, momma has you. You're safe and I'll never let anyone hour you again" she promised and dropped a sweet kiss to your forehead, soaking in the fact you felt so safe that you nuzzled into her embrace. It had taken years and a considerable amount of effort to get you this comfortable with her. That scared little one she had had began to flourish into a beautiful youngling that Leonora was so proud to call her daughter. Because truly what is blood links? A child deserves to be loved and cared for, you may not be biologically hers but she loved you just the same.

"My darling, what's got you panicking? I can feel your heart pounding inside your chest incredibly fast." She murmured not wanting to spook you but truly wanting to help you. "Momma, she, you. I'm sorry I know no one is meant to know I'm your adopted daughter" you whimpered out afraid that she would be disappointed that she was now linked to you. "Little love of mine, I'm not sad or disappointed that the school now knows you are my incredibly bright, talented, gifted, loving, beautiful daughter. I couldn't be more proud of you or love you with anymore of my heart." She reassured you and shifted you in her lap to look at your face that was now smothered in tears. She made sure to wipe them away with the pads of her thumbs before kissing your forehead. Truly she couldn't love you anymore than she did, it didn't matter that you weren't blood relation. Blood doesn't decide love, the heart does.

Word count| 924

[whump-4-ever]

Here’s just a little something I wrote with my OC Kyrin and his girlfriend Natalie. (If you would like to use this as a whump prompt, Kyrin is the Whumpee and Natalie is the Caretaker.) Since this prompt may have triggers (listed below) for certain people, I have put the cut right before the part where Kyrin has the seizure

-

Fever Prompt/Illness Prompt/Sickfic Prompt #1

[‼️] Possible TW/CW: illness, convulsive seizure (fever-induced)

-

Kyrin lay on the bed on his side, curled up into a tight ball as violent, unforgiving fever chills assaulted his body, his muscles spasming beneath fever-flushed skin in silent protest against the disease tormenting his weakened immune system. He let out a groan of agony at the aches and pains that throbbed with each and every shiver, sliding his feet against the sheets. His suffering was as noticeable as fresh blood in the snow, but in the midst of the fever-induced delirium, he hadn’t even realized he was awake; he didn’t acknowledge his girlfriend’s presence either when she spoke, nor had he given any signs that he knew she had been right there with him the whole time, ever since the moment he stumbled into the cabin at around two o’clock that morning and collapsed right into Natalie’s arms.

-

“Hey, hey, hey,” Natalie whispered, instantly seeing that Kyrin had drifted into a state of semi-consciousness. She quickly stood from the chair she sat in, placed only a few feet from the bed, and leaned over him, caressing his sweat-slicked cheek with a warm, loving palm. “Shhh…… It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay,” She murmured as she ran her thumb over Kyrin’s cheekbone a couple times before laying her hand on his forehead, ever so carefully brushing back his sweat-soaked hair.

-

Kyrin peeled his sticky eyelids apart to reveal glassy, bloodshot eyes. “…..hnnnggg….” He groaned. His gaze slowly but surely locked onto Natalie’s. Immediately upon seeing him watching her, relief crashed down on her at the realization that he had heard her. This was the first time he’d showed any signs of awareness since his very dramatic entrance at 2 o’clock that morning, and it was a good sign.

-

Kyrin parted his lips just the slightest bit, his intent obvious in the way his jaw trembled, but no sounds came out. He shifted just slightly in frustration, not understanding what was going on and why it was so hard to speak.

-

“You’re okay,” Natalie repeated, still stroking his forehead in hopes that would keep him calm. There was a soft smile plastered on her face, seemingly a result of the relief she’d just felt, but really it was only there to stop Kyrin from panicking, not because she was happy, because she wasn’t. She was still relieved to see him conscious and aware, of course, but worry for his well-being had been welling up in her chest for awhile now, and seeing him struggling so much just to form words had only intensified that worry. It didn’t help that the amount of heat radiating off of him was much more than what was considered normal, even for a fever.

-

She drew in a deep breath, attempting to hold back the surge of panic that threatened to overcome her, lying there in the pit of her stomach, just waiting to attack, like a snake preparing to strike its prey. “Y-You have a fever, baby,” Natalie told him softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Kyrin, though he’d made eye contact with her just seconds ago, did not acknowledge her words that time. Instead, his eyes very sluggishly shifted to the side until he was staring off into the distance, the expression on his face now blank.

-

“Kyrin?” Natalie’s heart leapt into her throat, and that panic in her stomach took its chance to claw its way up to her heart and wrap its cold, merciless fingers around it, squeezing it tightly and sending tendrils of pain all throughout her chest. “H-Hey,” Natalie stammered. She gulped in fear before carefully cupping Kyrin’s cheeks with both hands, gently jostling his head in an attempt to elicit a response. Nothing. He didn’t even blink. “Kyrin?” She rubbed her thumb along his cheekbone like she had earlier, silently begging him to answer, but he didn’t.

-

It was only moments later when Kyrin’s eyes suddenly rolled up into the back of his skull. His body went stiff at the same time, and a low groaning sound rumbled deep in the back of his throat. Then the convulsions started. Soft, breathy grunting noises puffed out of the young man’s partially open mouth as his entire frame jerked around violently. He was in the midst of a full-blown seizure now.

-

“Oh, God,” Natalie choked out, feeling sick to her stomach. She already knew what was happening, had recognized the signs of her boyfriend’s fever-induced seizure the second the convulsions began, but it did nothing to quell the nausea.

-

Despite just barely keeping her emotions in check, she leapt into action, quickly assessing the situation and coming to the concluding that, since Kyrin was already on his side, not much could be done until the seizure was over, but she did what she could. She grasped his shoulder with one hand and his forearm with the other, her grip on both not nearly tight enough to restrain him or restrict his movements but rather a precaution, to ensure he wouldn’t fall off the bed and injure himself.

-

It felt like everything was happening in slow motion, as if hours upon hours were passing by when in reality it had only been around forty three seconds. “C’mon, Kyrin,” Natalie muttered, biting her bottom lip when she noticed foamy saliva bubbling up in her boyfriend’s mouth.

-

As if in response, Kyrin let out a few breathless grunting noises, his inhales nothing more than quick, shallow gasping noises, soft wheezing sounds accompanying each one. “Shhhhh….” She hushed him, doing her best to comfort him even in his state of unconsciousness.

-

After around two and a half minutes or so, the convulsions started to die down, gradually going from violent jerking movements to a series of light twitching motions until finally stopping altogether, Kyrin’s body going still under Natalie’s hands. “You’re alright,” She whispered. She then very carefully maneuvered her boyfriend’s limp, floppy form into the recovery position, making sure to rest his head at an angle that would help him breathe. Once that was done, she pulled the previously-discarded chair up to the side of the bed and took a seat, running her fingers through Kyrin’s hair. “It’s gonna be alright.”

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Where Is Your Rider?🔥

A/N: HEY EVERYONE!!! So, I just wanted to thank you guys for the massive amount of support you guys have given me recently, I just managed to reach a pretty significant follower count!!! I don’t want to specify the number because I don’t want to make this into a competition, but I’m so happy and grateful for all of you guys and the love and support you have shown me! As promised, I plan to celebrate with a face reveal! I’ll specify when I’m going to do it (as I don’t know when I won’t be busy, lol) but it will happen soon! For now, enjoy this super angsty short one-shot I have written for you guys! This was supposed to be a really short drabble but because I have no self control whatsoever, this ended up being nearly 3,000 words instead of the 500 I planned for it. Also, this was inspired by the two songs, “Where is Your Rider?” and “Pale White Horse” by the Oh Hellos! I hope you enjoy, and again, thank you guys so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Pale White Horse” By: The Oh Hellos 🐉

Word Count: ~2.8k

~~~

Levi braced his hands on his knees, panting so hard his throat burned with dry fire. That had been close. Too close. To say that the expedition had been a nightmare would’ve been an understatement. It had been an absolute disaster. What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve some supplies from an abandoned battle station outside the walls had turned into chaos quicker than anyone could’ve ever anticipated as abnormals had surrounded them on all sides. Levi had tried his best to protect as many of his soldiers as he could, but even Humanity’s Strongest Soldier had been overwhelmed by the vast number of titans. Erwin had called for the retreat only minutes into the expedition, and yet they had still lost more men on this mission alone than they had during the past six months.

Levi closed his eyes, willing the tears back against the images of his fallen comrades, their broken bodies and screams of his name as they were devoured right in front of him. He had to stay strong, just for a little while longer. As soon as he got back within the walls and was able to retreat to his office, he would be allowed to break, to let loose the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But for now, he had to be the pillar of strength that his remaining soldiers could look up to for hope and reassurance.

He sighed deeply, forcing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat, and raised his head, his eyes still closed as he prepared what he was going to say to his squad. When he finally felt ready enough to face them, he turned with his head held up high to the pitiful number of soldiers left on the field. He opened his mouth to talk when all of a sudden, he noticed something.

Her squad wasn’t back yet.

Levi’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth hung open as the words of his quickly prepared speech were immediately thrown out the window, his mind clouded with worry.

“Where’s Captain (Y/N)? And her squad?” Levi asked, prompting the men around him to stop what they were doing and look to their raven-haired superior. It was obvious that Captain (Y/N) and Captain Levi were together, that much was apparent from Levi’s subtle favoritism and soothed demeanor when she was around, but their relationship was often overlooked due to the professional manner in which they regarded each other when working during the day. Nobody was privy to what occurred behind closed doors - the clingy, loving nature that Levi adopted around (Y/N) when they were alone.

Levi felt a cold tremor trickle down his spine when nobody answered, some of their faces paling as they suddenly remembered their Captain’s relationship, panic laced in their eyes when they realized that nobody could answer Levi’s question. “Did anybody see where they went? Or could make a guess on which direction they could’ve gone?”

Levi tried to keep his voice steady when silence once again answered him, only the soft murmuring of the cadets asking each other for information filling the space. His breathing quickened and shallowed, making him feel light-headed, but he shook the feeling away. He needed to stay focused if he was going to find her. She was going to be alright, she had to be. He wouldn’t accept any other option.

“Alright then, everybody stay here. Commander Erwin should be arriving with the rest of you in a moment. When he gets here, someone tell him that I’ve gone to look for them.”

He whirled on his heel when he was met with murmurs of acceptance, aiming for his horse until a quick flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized it was the movement of a horse racing for them, its hooves striking the ground with every beat as it galloped for them in a panic. Cold dread washed over Levi as the horse got closer, immediately recognizing the silvery white coat of (Y/N)’s stunning mare.

Levi was frozen in fear for the first time in his life as the horse came barreling towards him; riderless. He managed to snap out of it and quickly moved to intercept the horse, using his hands to jolt the frantic horse to a stop. Levi cooed at the mare, murmuring soft words of comfort as he approached her as slowly and non-threateningly as possible. When she had finally calmed down enough for him to touch her, Levi carefully curled his fingers around her reins and stood back to get a good look at the animal.

Her nostrils were flaring with every harsh breath she took, panting with both fear and exertion. Her eyes were wide enough to flash the whites around her irises at him, her gaze darting all around them as if expecting something to jump out at her. Levi felt his stomach clench hard enough to rip a whimper from him when he saw that her once gleaming silver coat was now soaked in sweat, mud, and fresh blood. Levi took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing.

“Danika, where is your rider?”

The mare’s only response was to jerk her head in panic, her ears pinned as she tried to rip herself from his iron grip. Levi bared his teeth, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks. “WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR RIDER!?”

He knew shouting would only make things worse, but he couldn’t help himself, his fury and paralyzing fear driving him to the edge of insanity. Where was she? She had to be here, he wouldn’t accept this, couldn’t accept this. She was alive and well and perfectly fine, her horse was just acting crazy. It had to be some kind of trick, some kind of illusion meant as a punishment for the lives of the men he had lost.

He rubbed his eyes but to his horror, the image of blood soaking Danika’s fur didn’t disappear. He wanted to believe that it was Danika’s blood, that the poor animal had just been clawed up in battle, but he knew it wasn’t hers. She had no external wounds to speak of and the blood was pooled on top of her saddle and splashed along her flank rather than gouged from her flesh.

More tears started to stream down his face, the air in his throat hitching with every shaky breath he took. It wasn’t possible. No. She was alive. (Y/N) was alive. The love of his life was alive. Levi hung his head, his hair falling to curtain his expression as he choked on another sob. “Danika, please. Please. Where is your rider? Where is (Y/N)? She was with you, right? She has to be around here somewhere…”

He knew he must look deranged, talking to a horse and muttering to himself, but he didn’t care. All he cared about, in that moment, was finding out where the fuck his lover was. Another sob ripped through his body, his eyes squeezing shut even harder as more tears fell from behind his lids. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, so why was his heart shattering as if he already had?

The sudden touch of a warm muzzle brushing against his face made him flinch and look up, only to be met with the sight of (Y/N)’s silver mare, watching him with a deeply sorrowful expression that mirrored his own, as if she too was grieving the loss of her rider. Levi wanted to scream, wanted to chase the mare into the woods, wanted to slash titans until his body gave out, but he knew he couldn’t do any of those things. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, no matter how much he wanted someone to blame.

“Please,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to curl against Danika’s soft muzzle. “Please tell me she’s alive. Tell me she made it back with you, you just got scared and left her behind. Tell me that she’s going to be okay. I-I can’t live without her, please.”

He was begging now but he didn’t notice. He just wanted some damn reassurance, some comfort, some support - all of the things that (Y/N) usually provided for him when he felt helpless. But (Y/N) wasn’t with him and he was floundering. His eyes were glossy with tears as he looked deep into the mare’s eyes, begging with both his voice and his gaze for the horse to give him something, anything to work with.

“Levi,” the deep voice right beside him made him jump, too lost in his hysteria to notice that Erwin had slipped up next to him, his face dark and grim. Levi’s eyes were frantic as they searched Erwin’s gaze. He knew the Commander had seen (Y/N) last, her squad had been flanking his during their initial departure. Erwin swallowed. Hard.

“Levi, I’m so sorry but…” The Commander dug around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small piece of fabric with (Y/N)’s name written on the back. It was (Y/N)’s wings of freedom patch. Levi carefully took the patch in both of his palms, tears flooding his cheeks as his whole body started to shake.

“S-She saved her squad, Levi. They were being chased by a hoard of abnormal titans and she darted off to act as bait. Her p-plan was solid, but there were just too many of them and they overpowered her,” Erwin said, his jaw clenching when he stuttered a few times, fighting back his own tears. He lifted a hand and rested it gently on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Levi, s-she’s gone.”

Levi immediately shook his head violently in response, refusing to believe it. She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. She had promised him that she would stay alive, that she would never leave him alone, especially after all he had lost. She promised. Erwin walked forward, hands outstretched to keep Levi from doing something rash, but he wasn’t fast enough as the raven crashed to the ground, collapsing under the weight of his grief.

A loud, miserable howl tore from his throat and filled the valley, making the soldiers around him flinch as they silently mourned, a few of them even beginning to shed tears as they watched their normally stoic, steadfast Captain break for the first time since they’d met him. Levi ignored everyone as he sobbed out for the world to hear, his head buried in his hands and his body shaking violently with the force of his sorrow.

He didn’t want to accept it, didn’t want to acknowledge what everyone was telling him was fact. He didn’t want to think about anything but getting her back in his arms as soon as possible. It was all he wanted, to feel her warmth pressed lovingly against him, to hear her murmur gentle words filled with more love than he’d ever expected to receive in his life, to see her eyes light up brightly whenever she saw him. Without her, he was nothing. He knew that if he accepted this, that he would be accepting the loss of his very soul. It was too much for him to handle, he had finally been broken.

The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t take it anymore. Without (Y/N) by his side, he had no will to live. Fuck fighting the titans, fuck finding a new, better world, fuck being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Fuck everything. None of it was worth it if (Y/N) wasn’t wrapped safely in his arms.

“Levi…”

He heard Erwin coo at him, his hand outstretched to guide Levi to his feet, but the raven quickly ripped his arm from the Commander’s grasp, his eyes filled with an icy fire that would make Death itself shiver.

“Lead the retreat, take my men back to the walls.”

“Levi, what are you-?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi snapped aggressively as he tore his cape from his back and draped it over Danika’s blood soaked saddle.

“Levi, (Y/N)’s dead. You need to come back with us, if you don’t, you won’t make it.”

“That’s the point,” Levi said as he pulled himself into the saddle, once again avoiding Erwin’s attempt to grasp him.

The blonde’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping at his Captain’s words. “If you think for one fucking second that I am going to let you kill yourself over some girl-”

“Don’t you dare speak about (Y/N) that way,” Levi said, his voice a deadly calm. “She is not just ��some girl’. She’s the love and light of my life and I’m not leaving without her. I’m going to bring her back, no matter what it takes.”

Erwin opened his mouth to argue, but wasn’t even able to get the first word out before Levi had kicked Danika into a gallop, aiming right for the forest she had come from just minutes earlier. Nobody could do anything but watch as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier tore off into the woods, dread settling in their stomachs at the thought of having to fight without his support. Because they all knew, even if Levi made it, he would never be the same. Unless (Y/N) was somehow magically still alive, Levi would never be the same man he once was. His responsibilities and future didn’t matter to him anymore, not if they didn’t include his love.

Erwin sighed and shouted for his men to retreat, knowing that sending more men to retrieve Levi would only end in more casualties, by both titans and Levi himself. All he could do was trust that his friend could hold his own and would make it back. The soldiers of the remaining squads did as he asked without hesitation but the air was thick with tension as they galloped back to the walls, unsure of how to process the loss of their two strongest Captains.

[ronsenburg]

OKAY SO I COULDNT CHOOSE BETWEEN THESE TWO SO KLAPOLLO FOR (KISSES PROMPTS) 15 OR (I LOVE YOU PROMPTS) 29 MAYBE???? 👀👀👀

Falling in love is easy, it is saying something about it that seems to be the problem.

It’s something Klavier and Apollo apparently excel at; they talk in circles around the feeling without ever voicing the words, their sentences falling away abruptly as they veer too close to the sentiment.

Apollo should say it.

He means to. Every time Klavier laughs he can feel the words bubbling to his lips, threatening to spill over into the air around them.

He wants to say it, too. So badly that there are times when it is the only thought in his mind, playing over and over like a skipping record.

Every time Klavier smirks at him in court or reaches for his hand in public or answers his front door wearing his hair pulled back or refers to Apollo by one of the countless nicknames he’s bestowed.

But he doesn’t.

In the beginning he’d held his tongue for the simple reason that Klavier was Klavier; what if Apollo was fooling himself, thinking someone like that would want something more from someone like him? But as time passed and the looks between them began to linger too long and their eyes seemed to say the words that their mouths apparently couldn’t, the reason changed. If Klavier felt the way Apollo thought he did about him, why hadn’t he said it? He’d stared right back into Klavier’s perfect face and silently urged him to be the one to break the stalemate.

But he didn’t.

They were reaching a point where it was becoming completely unbearable. Apollo was sure that Klavier was writing songs about it, he could hear Klavier humming an evolving melody under his breath whenever his attention was otherwise occupied. The urge to ask about it was so strong that it made it difficult for Apollo to focus on anything except the soft notes floating in the air between them.

If someone didn’t say something soon, Apollo might actually go insane.

So, Apollo should say it. He imagines the conversations they might have leading up to it, the words that he will say other than just blurting the obvious at the first sight of Klavier’s smiling face. This is what he will say if Klavier seems surprised, if Klavier isn’t ready to say it back, if Klavier doesn’t actually feel the same way.

But, though there are hundreds of possible scenarios Apollo has run through in his head, the way it actually goes is not one of them.

It happens like this:

Dusk is falling on an early summer evening. The sun has disappeared below the horizon, but the last hints of its rays linger in the sky; the stars and moon above are set in a sea of nautical blue.

They are running late for a dinner reservation. 

It’s never a problem, not really, not when the table is saved for the Klavier Gavin. But Apollo doesn’t like being late, doesn’t like taking advantage of privileges that are not his, that are only offered because he happens to be dating a celebrity.

The words sound just as ridiculous in his thoughts as they do out loud.

“I can’t believe you had to straighten your hair again,” Apollo says, the pace of his steps on the concrete sidewalk mildly accelerated, “it looks exactly the same as it did this afternoon. How did that take an hour?”

This is a conversation that they have had, verbatim, at least six times now. Klavier is very clearly trying not to laugh. “Schatzilein, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. You cannot complain about the process when you seem to enjoy the results so much, ja?”

An exasperated sigh is the extent of Apollo’s immediate response.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he says a handful of moments later. “From now on, I’m telling you our reservations are half an hour earlier than they actually are.”

Klavier doesn’t reply.

Three steps later, Apollo turns, ready to verify that yes, those are the lengths he is willing to go to to ensure they are on time to a dinner reservation for once and, no, no amount of smooth smiles and seductively whispered words over dinner will change his mind on the matter.

But Klavier isn’t beside him anymore.

He’s stopped, five steps behind Apollo, and staring with very wide, very blue eyes.

Apollo has no choice but to stop as well. “You okay?”

“Warte, was hast du gesagt?” Klavier mutters, and then, when Apollo only stares back with a blank face, “what you just said, nicht wahr? Repeat it, please.”

It seems like an overreaction to a statement Apollo was only half serious about, in the end. “I’m going to tell you our reservations are earlier than they actually are?”

Klavier shakes his head firmly, pieces of hair falling from his carefully reconstructed twist. “Nein, before that.”

A few moments of confusion pass before Apollo understands. Then, the realization dawns on him with enough panic that Apollo can feel the blood rapidly draining from his face only to be immediately replaced by a spectacular blush. “Oh.”

If this is not a scenario that Apollo had considered when debating how to profess his feelings, Klavier’s reaction now is just as, if not more, unanticipated.

“Do you mean that, Schatzi?” he asks, still wide eyed and voice wavering as though this is an anomaly, as though there aren’t millions of people on this earth in love with him at that exact moment in time.

And that realization, that someone annoyingly famous and stunningly handsome and irritatingly suave—someone like that could look at someone like Apollo and ask if Apollo meant what he had accidentally let slip? How could he pretend that it was just a turn of phrase, a saying that didn’t mean anything, when Klavier was looking at him like his love was something too good to be true, too much to wish for?

The implications of a look like that takes Apollo’s breath away.

“Of course I do,” he murmurs in a quasi-embarrassed reply, giving up and diving in. “It’s not really how I wanted to say it, but, well, yeah. It’s fine if you don’t want to say it back, I didn’t mean to spring it on you in the middle of—“

But then Klavier is walking towards him with urgent steps, the distance between them dwindling down to just a handful of inches before he stops. Apollo has to look just up to continue to meet his eyes.

“Say it again,” Klavier requests, “bitte.”

“You’re lucky I love you?” Apollo repeats obediently, although his tone is all the more embarrassed for their public proximity. “You are, you know.”

“And you are impossible, Liebling,” Klavier laughs, but it sounds more astonished than amused. He reaches out his hands to place them on either side of Apollo’s still-flushed face, his thumb tenderly stroking the edge of Apollo’s jaw. “Just the last part, if you please.”

“But, why?” Apollo asks in response, just as astonished. He doesn’t really mean ‘why do you want me to say it again’, though it’s what the question implies. That’s easy enough to guess. What he means is, ‘why do you want me to love you’?

Klavier’s gaze softens in response.

“Because I love you, Apollo Justice,” he replies, quiet enough that anyone listening beyond their single square of concrete would not be able to make out the words, “and I would like to hear it, ja?”

Like they have been given a cue, the streetlights that flank the road blink their way to life above them. Apollo can only barely see them; with his face still cradled between Klavier’s hands and his gaze fixed on Klavier’s blue eyes, there is little else in his field of vision or on his mind.

“Oh,” Apollo breathes, “okay.”

The fact that the words are little more than a whisper has nothing to do with embarrassment, this time.

“Ja, okay,” Klavier laughs a moment later when Apollo hasn’t managed to exhale the breath he’s been holding, let alone actually saying something. Klavier is still grinning as he leans in to kiss Apollo, the press of his lips a gentle encouragement that does much of the opposite of its intention. As he pulls back, still so close that Apollo could count the faint freckles hiding beneath the layer of foundation Klavier insists on wearing in public, the look of adoration in his eyes leaves Apollo positively tongue tied. “Whenever you are ready, Schatzilein.”

“You’re the worst, did you know that?” Apollo replies, though his voice is far too soft to actually mean it. “But I love you anyway.”

Klavier’s smile, then, is dazzling. “I think I will have to accept that one, ja?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

When Klavier kisses him again, standing there below the streetlights of the boulevard for anyone to see, Apollo finally stops worrying about the kind of people they seem to be. Whether he has earned the love of someone like Klavier or if Klavier deserves better than someone like him ceases to be important, if it ever really was to begin with.

The only thing that matters, then, is the warmth of the arms that are reaching out to pull Apollo closer. Anything beyond that—including the dinner reservation they most certainly will have lost by now—will need to wait; Apollo’s heart is too full.

[snelbz]

Spitting Image

Based on the anonymous prompt:  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Co-written, as always, with @tacmc​.

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

Cassian had been infuriated when he left his flat, but as he sat in his car outside of Nesta’s house, there was a hollowness settled in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn’t been back in Velaris for long. He hadn’t expected to be back so soon, but he missed his family too much to stay in the north forever. After their constant begging, and after he’d gotten his college diploma, he was packing up and moving back to the city of starlight.

Where she was.

He’d been avoiding her so far, hadn’t seen her once in the month he’d been home.

Until he found out.

Then he was going to confront her, going to pound on her door and demand how she couldn’t have told him. He was going to yell, was going to look her in the eye for the first time in years and demand answers she’d never given him.

Nothing came to him, though, as he sat in his car, staring at her front door.

None of it made any sense. It made as little now as it had then, when a single text message had shredded his heart, and sitting here, staring at the unfamiliar house, Cassian felt all those old wounds reopening.

With a weary sigh, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how they had ended up here, how any of this had happened, but he knew exactly what day everything had changed.

Just like everything else in his life, Cassian had gotten his information to Adriata’s head coach just days before the deadline, going back and forth on the decision of whether or not he should pursue his dream. Summer training was slated to start the following Monday and when his phone rang, he never expected it to be Tarquin Hadrian himself.

He’d immediately texted Nesta, telling her he had good news and that he was on his way to see her. He had to get packed. He was leaving for Adriata tonight.

She texted back and told him she had news, too, but he was so excited, he didn’t even think to ask what it was. He knew she’d tell him as soon as he got there.

But she hadn’t, because Cassian had gone first.

He’d told her about the scholarship, told him his education was paid for at one of the best universities in the country. He’d told her that he would be playing football, starting as a freshman.

Then she’d told him she was proud of him, told him how amazing it all was. Cassian was so hyped up that he forgot to ask what her news was.

She broke up with him soon after, because he would be too far away, and long distance was too hard. Cassian had left, and never heard from Nesta Archeron again.

Now, he would.

As soon as he got the nerve to get out of his car.

He looked at the clock on the dash. 

He’d been there for nearly half an hour.

It was time.

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing open his door and getting out.

He was sure she had to know he was back. He’d been to dinner with Elain and Azriel the night before. They’d firmly avoided the topic of the eldest Archeron sister, just as every conversation had since he’d arrived back in Velaris. Just as he’d been doing to the woman herself.

As he walked up the cobblestone path to the door, he was struck by just how much the home looked like it was made for Nesta. It was older, but you’d never be able to tell. Not with the glossy, navy shutters and the cheery garden out front. He was sure that was courtesy of Elain, rather than Nesta.

When he lifted his hand to knock, all of the anger that had built and built in him fell away and he felt a pang of nerves growing in his gut.

Five years.

It had been five years since he’d seen Nesta Archeron. Five years of wondering how she was, what she was doing, who she was with.

With a final deep breath, he knocked on the door. Cassian wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the door opened, but it sure as shit wasn’t Tomas fucking Mandray.

Cassian froze.

As did Tomas.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Tomas asked, which Cassian thought was funny, because he was just about to ask Tomas the same question.

“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, evenly.

“Too bad,” he replied, leaning against the door frame. “She’s unavailable.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Cut the cheeky bullshit. I need to talk to her and it’s important.”

Nothing in his life had ever been this important. Not even the championship games he’d had the honor of playing in…and winning. And he knew nothing would ever be as important again.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Tomas said, stepping out and getting eye to eye with Cassian. He hadn’t remembered being taller than the man, but he felt a small bit of pride as he had to look up at him. “Coming back after all these years, trying to come in like you still have a claim on her.”

Cassian had to take a moment to catch his breath, to remind himself that causing a scene, that kicking Tomas’ ass, would do no good. 

“Go get Nesta,” Cassian said, simply, calmly. “I’m not leaving here until I talk to her.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a long ass time,” Tomas said, his voice low. 

“I’ll wait,” he replied.

The two men stared at one another, unblinkingly. 

Her footsteps began creaking down the old wooden stairs behind Tomas, and the moment that Cassian saw her, every thought he’d ever had fell from his mind. It went completely blank, and he suddenly began to panic as every emotion he’d ever had for Nesta flooded the surface. 

Love, lust, complete adoration.

Anger, hatred, complete heartbreak. 

“Who’s here?” Nesta asked, reading a novel as she walked. She always had her nose in a book. 

Tomas lifted his chin. “No one. He was just leaving.”

Nesta looked up then, and on the bottom step, she froze. Her eyes connected with Cassian’s, and her lips fell open. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do a thing.

“Tomas, I think you should head home,” she said, voice so quiet that Cassian was surprised he could hear it.

He turned around, staring at her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Please,” she said. “Go.”

Without another word, he walked towards the back of the house. Nesta was staring at her feet, still not looking at him, but gods, he was staring at her. She was so beautiful, as beautiful the day he’d kissed her goodbye.

He had no idea it would be the last time he’d ever feel her lips on his.

Tomas emerged again, a black backpack slung over his shoulder, keys in his hand. He didn’t look at Nesta, just brushed past Cassian as he left, shoving him with his shoulder.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassian cleared his throat, but Nesta spoke first. “I heard you were back in town.”

“Didn’t try to call though,” Cassian said, the words not as hard as he intended them to be. He stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him.

Nesta sighed and said, “I’ve been busy. Would you like some coffee?”

So formal. So polite. So unlike the firey girl he’d loved.

“You know, why I’m here, Nes,” he breathed, the familiar nickname falling from his lips. Before she could respond, he added, “Where is he?”

Her eyes fell closed and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes, just like she’d always done when he did something to infuriate her. “At school. It’s noon on a Tuesday.”

Of course he would be at school. Cassian hadn’t even thought about that on his way over. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he waited, waited for her to say something, anything, and when she didn’t, he was shaking his head.

Before he could speak, before he could blow up, Nesta asked, again, “Coffee?”

“I don’t want coffee,” Cassian said, quietly.

“You used to love coffee,” she pressed.

“I still do, I don’t want any right now.”

“Let me get you some coffee.” She was walking away before he could protest, yet again.

He wasn’t sure what to do, so he followed her down the hall, into the kitchen.

She was fixing a pot of coffee, refusing to meet his eyes still. 

“Nesta-.”

“How have you been?” she asked, the question rushing out of her as she pressed start on the coffee maker. 

“How have I been?” he repeated, exasperated.

“Yes, Cassian,” she said, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet and proceeding to dump two very healthy spoons of sugar into one of them and a normal amount into the other. “I haven’t talked to you in five years, I’d like to know how you’ve been.”

He blinked, not only at the fact that she still remembered exactly how to make his coffee, but as the genuine sincerity in her words. “What is this?” He asked, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening here?”

The pot gurgled as it finished brewing and Nesta pulled the carafe from its base and poured the coffee into the mugs. She picked them up and carefully carried them to the island where Cassian was leaning on his palms. “It’s two old friends catching up.”

The cold laugh left him before he could even think to stop it. “Old friends? Old friends? At least have the decency to call me your ex, Nes.”

She was so calm, as if she’d been expecting this reaction. As if she’d been preparing for this for nearly five years.

“Were we not friends?” she asked, sliding a mug across the island to him.

Cassian stared at her. He opened his mouth, but it soon fell shut, yet again. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t let you in to fight, Cass,” she said, quietly.

Cass.

His old nickname. She used to say it longing, lovingly. Now, it just seemed like an annoyance. 

“I’m not here to fight,” Cassian said, quietly, putting his hand around the mug. “I’m here for answers.” 

“I want to know how you’ve been,” Nesta continued, sipping from her steaming mug.

Cassian knew Nesta. He knew her better than most people. He knew that he would not win this argument. “I’ve been good. Living the fucking dream. Played football, got a degree, decided to come back home. And you? How have you been?”

His words were kind enough, but his tone was clipped, rushed, annoyed. He had no interest in small talk.

“Busy,” she admitted. “Got my degree, too, online though. And I started my own business. Interior design.”

Cassian couldn’t stop himself from looking around. The house was decorated impeccably. “Dating Tomas Mandray, I see,” he scoffed.

She almost spewed coffee across the counter, but she pulled herself together just in time. “Absolutely not,” she said, reaching for a paper towel to dab off her mouth. “He works for me, he balances my books.”

Blinking, his mug halfway to his own mouth, Cassian stared at her. And then he started laughing hysterically.

Nesta was staring at him. At first, she seemed concerned, then she was amused. “Does that please you?”

“I just…” he began, his laughter dying down. “I can’t believe I thought he was with you to begin with.” 

Nesta stared at him for a moment, until his laughter became obsolete. “Why did you come here, Cass?”

Cassian’s smile faded before he said, “You know why I’m here, Nesta.” 

She slowly set her mug down on the counter and looked up at him and sighed quietly.

He asked, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Of course not,” she breathed, her eyes sad. “I knew you would eventually, but you were living your dream. I wasn’t going to be the one to take that from you.”

He stared at her, unblinking and absolutely silent. When he spoke, he didn’t recognize his own voice. “Did you really think that I would care about football more than I would care about my own son? More than I cared about you?”

Nesta’s eyes fell closed and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to let you throw away your life-.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” He said, surprised by the elevation of his words, how genuinely hurt he was that she took that precious time from him. Time he couldn’t get back.

“Cassian-.” “No,” he said, before she could say anymore. “You should’ve told me.”

Nesta’s lips thinned out. “If I did, you would’ve dropped everything to come back here, and I just couldn’t…”

Cassian waited, and when she didn’t finish, Cassian shook his head. “Of course I would’ve come home. Would that have been so bad?” 

“Yes!” Nesta yelled, eyes wide. “You were living your dream, Cass!” 

“But you were here, having my kid!” he yelled, the words echoing throughout the empty kitchen.

He turned away, beginning to pace. “Is this why you ended it?” He asked, looking over at her. “So you wouldn’t have to visit, so I wouldn’t find out? Or did you dump me and it was just a happy accident?”

“Stop,” Nesta breathed.  

“I don’t wanna fucking stop!” Cassian yelled. “You had my kid, you were pregnant when I left, and you didn’t tell me!”

Nesta closed her eyes.

“I have been gone for five years, and I had no idea that I had a kid here!” Cassian continued, trying to contain himself, but being unable to.

The front door opened and little feet were hurrying down the hardwood floor towards them. “Mama, there’s a huuuuge truck outside! You have to come-.”

A little boy with blue-grey eyes and dark, curly hair froze as he came barreling into the kitchen, a Power Rangers backpack strapped to his back. Nesta glanced over at the clock, not realizing it was time for the bus to already be here. He slowly made his way to the middle of the kitchen, where she still stood, clutching her quickly cooling cup of coffee. “Are you still working, mama?” He quietly asked, looking at Cassian out of the corner of his eye.

It was a wonder Cassian hadn’t fallen to his knees the second he saw him. His eyes may have been the color of Nesta’s, but the shape was familiar in a way Cassian never thought he’d see. His lips were fuller than his own, so much like his mother’s. But the tan skin, the curly hair that was much longer than he was sure Nesta wanted it to be…

It was like looking into the most precious mirror, seeing a different version of himself, that he never knew existed, never knew he needed.  

“Hi, baby,” Nesta said, at last, meeting her son in the middle of the kitchen and wrapping him up in her arms. After giving him a kiss on his forehead, she asked, “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah!” He replied. “I had art, and gym, and I learned about the letter Q.”

“Q?” Nesta asked, like it was the coolest thing she had ever heard. “That’s awesome, buddy.”

He looked back at Cassian. “Who are you?”

Cassian hadn’t realized he had been staring, hadn’t realized he had been analyzing every inch of the little man, his spitting image before him.

He was frozen, unable to think of his own name.

“Mommy has been doing some work for him for a while. He’s here to see it.”

His eyes flicked to Nesta, at the save she’d made for him, but at the truth of her words.

He cleared his throat and rounded the island, crouching down in front of him. “My name is Cassian.”

Those little eyes scrutinized him, with a look he’d seen from Nesta a thousand times, and he tilted his head to the side. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. His words were clipped. “Rhett.”

Nesta warned, “Everett Gideon.” His eyes turned up to look at his mother and he found her looking back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Manners.”

He stood up a little straighter and when he looked back at Cassian, he could see a familiar spark of mischief in those eyes. “My name is Rhett. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Cassian said. “I like your name.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, and turned around to storm out of the room.

Cassian watched him go.

“Hang your backpack up!” Nesta called after him. “And take off your shoes!”

Cassian hardly heard her. His son, Rhett. Five years old and probably full of attitude, considering who he was a biproduct of. He wasn’t sure what to think, wasn’t sure what thought to form.

Cassian looked at the doorway he had hurried out of for a long while. Nesta didn’t press. She simply waited, quietly.

After a moment, he breathed, “He… I…” 

He looked away and cleared his throat and Nesta pretended not to see the shimmering in his hazel eyes.

“I don’t know him… He doesn’t know me…” The words were quiet when he finally spoke. All at once, Nesta realized the anger was gone. What was left was a broken man. A father who wanted to know his son. “He’s five and he doesn’t know me.”

Nesta didn’t say anything, just calmly watched him, listening.

His words were soft, sad, when he said, “Did you not want me to know him?”

“Cassian,” Nesta began, but nothing else came out. She sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear. 

“Did you not want me to know him?” Cassian repeated, his voice catching on the words. 

“You had a dream,” Nesta said, simply. “I wasn’t about to ask you to stay.”

There it was. She’d said it before but it hust clicked in his head what she was saying.

Cassian was taken back. “What?”

She wasn’t even pretending to drink her coffee anymore, standing with her arms crossed, a hip pressed against the counter. She was gazing out the window, a faint smile on her lips. She cleared her throat, but when she finally spoke, Nesta’s voice still sounded tight. “You had the chance to do what you’d always wanted, Cass. You were getting to live out your dreams.” She turned to look at him and her eyes were soft. “I couldn’t take that from you.”

Cassian hesitated, unable to sort out his thoughts. “You… I…” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “You knew you were pregnant before I left? With- With my child? You knew you were pregnant with my child and you let me move across the fucking country?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” she snapped. 

“Of course, I did,” he breathed. “But I’m having a little bit of trouble understanding.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she let loose a breath. “Do you know how long I’ve known you, Cass?”

Yes. Years. Nearly their entire lives.

“You always wanted to play football. You love it, and you always have,” she went on. “If I told you I was pregnant, you would’ve stayed, or you would’ve come back.”

“Of course, I would have!” Cassian yelled, meeting her eyes.

Her voice cracked as she said, “I wasn’t going to let you throw your entire life away for me!”

The silence settled in the kitchen and Cassian’s heavy breathing as he calmed himself was the only sound.

“I didn’t keep him from you to hurt you,” she said, at last. “I did it so you could do what you loved. I didn’t want you to resent me one day for losing that chance…”

Nesta didn’t have to say what else she was thinking. Cassian already knew.

Or Rhett.

None of this was his fault, yet his parents were screaming at each other in the kitchen, and there was no way he hadn’t heard.

Cassian let his elbows land on the hard countertop and his face fell into his hands.

“Five years,” he whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. “Five years and I’ve been… Damn it, Nesta.” 

There was no anger in his voice, hardly anything at all in his voice. 

“I already told you-.”

“You should’ve told me,” he interrupted, quietly. “You should’ve told me you were pregnant, should’ve told me he was born. You should’ve told me that he existed, Nesta, I have a son. What does he think of his father? That I don’t care? That I abandoned him? That I was just never around?”  

“No, I-.”

“Has he ever even asked?” Cassian breathed. “I mean… I’ve known about him for less than twenty-four hours, and he’s all I thought about, Nes. And, ultimately… I feel like shit. Five years… For five years, I had a kid out there and I missed it. I missed all of it, missed five years of my kid growing up.”

“But you got to do what you loved,” she said, quietly, looking away from him. “You got to play football. We watched you on TV,” she said, a soft laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob falling from her lips. “He loves football, too.”

He’d had it, something in him snapped. He rounded the island and took her face into his hands. “I loved you,” he said, “and you making that decision for me, without telling me, I lost precious years with him. Precious years I could have had with you.”

Nesta’s eyes fell shut. No lie had ever hurt as badly as telling Cassian she didn’t want to be with him anymore. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Of course, there were times she wished he was there. But knowing he was happy and living the life he’d always dreamed of, especially after his hard life… It had been worth the struggle.

“You couldn’t miss out on it,” Nesta said, quietly, her eyes shut. “I don’t regret it.” 

“I do,” he replied, without any hesitation. “I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, would have been a part of his life, a part of both of your lives, and I would have had no regrets, Nes.”

“Maybe not yet.” She shook her head, her eyes still shut. “But you would have regretted it, eventually.”

Cassian knew Nesta, and he knew that she was adamant, that her mind had been made up long ago. There was nothing he could say that would make her believe that she had made the wrong decision, and he knew when to stop trying.

He didn’t take his hands off her face.

“Why did you tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore?” He breathed.

She didn’t hesitate. “Because I knew it was the only way you’d let me go.”

He was shaking his head. “Damn it, Nesta, I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to spend forever with you. I wanted to have a family with you.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his eyes fell shut. “I just... I didn’t know I already had one coming.”

Nesta didn’t say she was sorry.

Cassian knew she wouldn’t, knew she would have stuck by what she had done, whether she was truly sorry or not. 

The hesitation in her eyes told Cassian that she may have thought she was sorry, after all.

“I could live without football, Nes.” Cassian whispered. “I could have done without it. It’s a game-.”

“We were young,” Nesta fought, quietly.

“It’s a fucking game,” he repeated, a little more bite in his voice. “Just a game.”

“That game was your life,” Nesta snapped.

“You were my fucking life,” he hissed.

“I won’t ever apologize for letting you live your dream.”

He asked, “And will you apologize for lying?”

Nesta blinked. “About what?”

His words were hard. “For telling me you didn’t love me.”

Shame flashed in Nesta’s eyes. “Of course I am.”

“And what about now?” He breathed.

“Now?” She asked.

“Are you sorry about it now?” He asked. “Do you still love me?”

The words hung in the air between them.

Nesta’s voice was barely audible when she said, “That’s not a fair question.”

Cassian fought the urge to laugh. What the hell did she know about fair? “Answer the question.” 

“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking as she shook her head. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” he asked, growing frustrated, and he hated being frustrated, because when he was frustrated he didn’t know how to handle it, not well. “Just answer the question, Nesta. Do you still love me?” 

“I’m not answering that,” she repeated, as a tear slid down her cheek.

“Because I still love you,” Cassian continued, pretending she hadn’t spoken, knowing she was still lying to his face. “I still love you, I have never stopped loving you, Nesta.”

“Cassian, we-.”

“Every year apart, every month, every day, I have always loved you. I’ve tried to get over you, I really have, but I can’t,” he breathed. “It’s always been you, it will always be you.”

She shook her head again, closing her eyes in a pointless attempt to stop the tears that ran down her face.

“If you don’t love me, just tell me.” The words hurt, even as he said them. “I’ll keep my feelings to myself, but I want to be in Rhett’s life. Please.”

The fact that he was putting her feelings before his own, putting Rhett above them… “I love you just as much today as I did the day I sent those damn text messages. I didn’t just break your heart that day,” Nesta breathed, looking up into his hazel eyes. “I broke my own, too.”

Cassian leaned down and pressed his forehead gently against hers. “I have waited years to hear you tell me that you love me,” he whispered. “Years.” 

Nesta let out a slow breath.

Cassian’s lips met hers. 

He wasted no time, didn’t even bother with a warning before he was sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. Nesta melted into him, finding just as much comfort as she always had in his arms.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and Cassian lifted her up, setting her on the counter and standing between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and let one of his hands thread through her hair, and-.

“Mommy?”

Cassian was jumping back and Nesta was pushing her hair back off of her face and dropping off the counter. “Hey, baby. I thought you were upstairs?”

But Rhett’s little gaze wasn’t on Nesta, it was on Cassian. “Why were you kissing my mommy?”

Even Cassian’s quick wit didn’t have an answer for that. Nesta was beet red so he knew she wasn’t going to be any help. He opened his mouth spew some some bullshit to hopefully chill the anger he could see growing in those little eyes, but he was surging across the kitchen and began battering his tiny fists against his stomach. “You can’t kiss my mommy, she’s waiting for my daddy!”

Cassian hesitated, but didn’t move, nor did he bother to ask the child to stop hitting him in the stomach. In fact, he simply put his hands in his pockets and let Rhett punch him again and again and again.

It reminded Cassian of himself at that age.

“Rhett,” Nesta demanded, now that she had regained her composure. “Stop. Now.” 

He was frowning, but he did just as his mother asked. 

“We do not hit,” Nesta chastised. “Now, apologize.”

Rhett crossed his little arms. “No.”

“It’s okay, he thinks he’s protecting you,” Cassian whispered. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Nesta said, not looking away from her son. “He knows better. Apologize, now.”

“But if you’re kissing him, what about my daddy?” He said, and his little lip was wobbling, but Nesta could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry.

Cassian’s heart broke watching the scene in front of him, watching his son. He wished he could say something, do something. But this wasn’t his call. He hadn’t been here for five years. Rhett had no idea who he was. He looked up at Nesta, seeing the battle she was having within herself.

She’s waiting for my daddy.

He realized what Rhett had said and he blinked once. He was unable to stop the words as he breathed, “You waited for me?”

“Not for you!” Rhett cried again. “For my daddy!”

But for once Nesta didn’t chastise her rambunctious son for screaming in the house. She was too busy looking at Cassian.

“It’s always been you,” she whispered, repeating his earlier words back to him.

Cassian longed to kiss her then, wanted to press his lips urgently against hers, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down to Rhett. 

“He looks like me,” he whispered, then looked over at Nesta. “Sounds like me.”

“When he’s throwing a fit? Yeah, he does,” Nesta said, quietly, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her lips.

Rhett was still looking at Cassian when he scooted closer to Nesta and wrapped his little arms around her.

Nesta picked her son up, setting him down on the counter where she’d been sitting just a few seconds before. “Mommy’s always told you daddy would come home one day, right?”

He was looking between the two of them, suspiciously. He nodded.

“But that he was busy making sure we’d all have the best lives that we could?”

Another nod.

“Your daddy is finally here, buddy,” she said, softly. She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t know he was coming-.” A look at Cassian, who at least had the audacity to blush at intruding on her peaceful day and throwing the most amazing wrench into their lives. “But he’s here.”

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

ahh i apologize in advance, but about the request i sent about annie’s s/o (reader) being a goddess, can i add on? basically everyone views her as a goddess, and one day, connie (or whoever) gets injured and reader rips their clothing to bandage his wound. everyone else starts saying things like “hey y/n i got injured too y’know” haha tysm <3

I think I got a little carried away from the original prompt haha... I do that a lot though if I’m being honest.

Also, sorry this took so long, Tumblr literally just deleted everything halfway through >:/

Flirting

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Minor injury

Category: Fluff

Summary: Annie’s s/o happens to be particularly admired by many of the 104th, and, while everyone is fighting in the battle of Trost, Annie gets a little jealous.

Words: 2.4K

It happened out of nowhere.

The colossal titan towered over the wall once again, appearing with a bolt of foreboding lightning.

The force of it sent you and the other cadets of the 104th flying helplessly off of the wall, and you could do nothing but gaze on in horror as it kicked a wide hole in the gate, and titans slowly started to pour in.

You and the other cadets were quick to action, considering you were already there to begin with. Your main priority was to escort all the civilians safely into Wall Maria, and slay any titans that got in the way.

“This has gone pretty smoothly, all things considered.” You sighed, turning to face your girlfriend Annie as you both flew through the air in sync using your ODM gear.

“I suppose, but I can’t really see this having a good outcome. After all, so many have already gotten into the walls, and we can only save so many civilians. Plus, we don’t have any means to plug that giant hole back there.” She stated bluntly. You sighed again. You knew she was right, the Trost district was as good as lost already--it was that way as soon as the gate was destroyed--but you still clung onto the hope of saving as many innocent people as possible.

You released the trigger on your blade, and the grapple of your ODM gear retreated into your side. You enjoyed the unrestrained air time for a quick moment, before pointing your blade at a nearby building, pulling the trigger and launching the grapple into the brick sides, using up a fair amount of gas to keep up your quick, but steady momentum.

“Still, I’m glad we’ve kept casualties to a min-” You had no time to finish your sentence before you felt a sharp yank on your waist, and you yelped as you were sent tumbling through the air and into the ground with a thud.

You regained your bearings quickly, and you looked behind you to see what had yanked you out of the air so unceremoniously, but your eyes widened in horror as your eyes slowly processed the scene in front of you.

A titan—at least 15 meters tall—stood there with a wide, eerie grin as it held onto the iron wire of your ODM gear. You gripped the wire tightly, pulling desperately on the only thing tethering you to the bloodthirsty monster behind you.

It was all in vain, however, and you gulped back a scream as the titan started to pull on the wire, dragging you backwards against the stone beneath you and into it’s outstretched palm, having full intention of grabbing you the second you were within reach.

You winced in pain as the harsh friction against the stone started to tear up the fabric of the shirt, and eventually, your skin, leaving a small trail of blood behind you as the distance between you and the monster grew shorter and shorter.

You gazed back in horror to the road in front of you where you and Annie had been swinging so nonchalantly through the air mere moments ago. Your panicked eyes finally landed on the blonde, who had quickly turned around, and was now flying towards you at an inhuman speed. Once she got closer, you were able to see her face, which was painted in panic and desperation as she steadily zipped her way towards you.

The sight of her coming to rescue you brought you a little relief amidst your panic. There was no doubt she would be able to save you—after all, she is one of the most talented soldiers in the 104th Cadet Corps. Thank god I have such an amazing girlfriend... You thought.

You were dragged out of your thoughts, however, as you felt a tight squeeze on your torso. You looked up in horror as the situation suddenly sunk in.

The titan had you securely in it’s fist, and was bringing you to it’s open mouth with the same wide, murderous grin.

And, as you turned back to face Annie, a realization hit you.

She wasn’t going to be able to make it in time.

“ANNIE!!” You suddenly screamed out, reaching out to her with your free arm in a useless attempt to reach her, and tears started to run down your cheeks as you feared for your life.

Annie did the same thing, reaching her arm out as she tried frantically to reach you, screaming out your name desperately.

You squeezed your eyes, bracing yourself to be mercilessly bit in half by the monster. Suddenly, a quick slash sound could be heard from behind you, and the titan’s grip on your torso slacked, and you fell to the ground limply.

Your eyes peeled open and you gasped at the sight in front of you. Someone slashed it’s neck...!

You weren’t given any chance to rest, however, as the titan’s limp body started to fall in your direction. You were frozen in fear as it’s shadow loomed over you, and it’s large body threatened to crush you in a moment’s notice.

However, a pair of arms--human ones, thank god--wrapped themselves around your torso, and you heard the familiar buzz of the grapple hook, before you felt yourself whizzing through the air, and landing clumsily on a nearby rooftop with a groan.

You opened your eyes painfully, and found yourself tucked into someone’s chest, their arms wrapped protectively around your injured body. You lifted your head and immediately recognized the face before you.

“Mikasa!” You gasped out, and she looked back down at you with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?!” She kept her tight grip on your body, holding you close with a worried look on your face.

You heard quick footsteps approach you from the side, and you turned to see Sasha running across the rooftop towards you and Mikasa, her blades stained with titan blood, leaving a trail of steam in her wake.

“You guys saved me! Thank you!” You buried your head back in Mikasa’s chest as you hugged her tightly, the terror not quite having left your body yet.

“Ah- Y/n...” A pink blush started spread across her cheeks, flustered at such close contact with you.

“Y/N!” A voice called from the other side, and you immediately recognized the voice as Annie’s.

You pulled away from Mikasa and ran towards your girlfriend, tackling her into a hug with so much force that she nearly toppled over. Once she regained her footing, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms tightly around you and planting a kiss to the top of your head, and you swear you could hear her quietly sobbing.

Sounds of ODM gear filled your ears, and you assumed from the comfort of Annie’s chest that more soldiers had arrived.

After a small *ahem* from Mikasa, you pulled away from Annie, and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“Don’t scare me like that...” She choked out weakly. “I thought something bad was gonna happen...” She blushed a little bit, clearly not used to admitting her affections so openly as she is now.

You only giggled at that, before responding. “Don’t be silly Annie, I would never die on you.” You offered her a sweet smile, reassuring her and helping her regain her composure.

“Right...” She straightened up, smiling softly. “Of course...”

You enjoyed the tender silence before a voice spoke up from behind you.

“Uhh... Y/n...” A soothing, deep voice spoke up, and you turned to look at the source. It was the tall, black-haired male, Bertholdt, who you had come to know quite well through Annie. He had averted his gaze from you, a pink tint on his cheeks.

You glanced around to scan the faces of the soldiers now lining the rooftop. There was Annie, Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie of course, but Reiner, Connie, Jean, Ymir, and Historia were also present. You noticed that, strangely, nearly everyone had the same pink blush as Bertholdt. You were extremely confused for a moment, before Bertholdt finished his sentence. “Your shirt...”

You glanced down at your shirt in confusion, but you immediately blushed in embarrassment at the sight.

During your run-in with the titan, while it was dragging you across the stone, it had torn up your shirt quite a lot, leaving a good portion of your back and midsection exposed.

You flustered up at the sight. “O-Oh... I didn’t notice that...” You stuttered out. Almost everyone had averted their eyes courteously, but a few, namely Reiner and Ymir, kept their gazes more or less... fixed on you.

Annie, despite having the biggest blush out of everyone, was the first to offer any help at all. She was clearly dissatisfied with the... attention... you were getting, and jealousy filled her head.

“Here.” She muttered, sliding her hoodie over her shoulders quickly and handing it to you in a bundle. “Put this on. Now.” Her voice spoke with jealous persistence, but at the same time, it wavered with fluster.

“U-Uhh... Yeah...” You graciously took the hoodie from Annie, and slid it over your torn clothing. You let out a sigh in relief at not only the warmth of the hoodie, but also the cover it offered.

“Dammit...” Reiner muttered quietly, and it seems Annie and Bertholdt were the only ones to hear. “Too bad Annie had that hoodie with her... It would’ve been better without it.” He chuckled.

Annie marched over to Reiner with a deadly stare, and his face dropped as he realized that Annie had heard him.

Once she reached him, she said no words as she delivered a powerful kick to the back of his legs, causing him to keel over and tumble off of the roof, catching himself on the side of the building with his ODM gear. Annie only raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to where she was standing moments ago, next to you.

As soon as she stopped walking, you turned to look at her curiously.

“Annie? What was that about?” You questioned.

“Nothing.” She muttered, looking straight ahead with an extremely unamused look. “Just dealing with the pervert.”

After a minute of comfortable silence mixed with light chatter, Mikasa cleared her throat and spoke up.

“Everyone!” She yelled, pointing her sword up into the air to signify a command. “The supply room has been overrun. I’m heading there now to save the resupply team and stock up. If you’re wise, you will follow me.” She announced before getting a running head-start, and launching herself off of the rooftop with her ODM gear.

“Right.” Reiner muttered, climbing his way back up onto the building, before punching Bertholdt lightly in the shoulder. “Bertholdt, let’s go.” The tall boy nodded, before following the blonde man.

“You heard her, Y/n.” Annie spoke. “Let’s get going.”

You gave her an encouraging smile. “Right, let’s go!” You said triumphantly, stretching your arms above your head. Pain quickly shot up your back at this, and you hunched over as you whimpered quietly, trying not to make a big deal of your injury.

It was in vain anyway, since Ymir seemed to notice, and she smiled slyly. “You know, Y/N.” You turned to face the freckled girl, and she slowly walked over to you. “If it really hurts, you could always ride on my back.”

You chuckled uncomfortably, before Annie stepped in front of you. “She’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” She stated firmly.

Ymir laughed whilst looking down at Annie, using her height to her advantage. The two glared at each other tensely for only a moment, before Ymir’s eyes settled back on you.

“Whatever.” She chuckled. “If you say so darling.” She finished the sentence with a wink before turning to follow everyone off of the rooftop. Cadet after cadet followed after, but Annie only turned to you with a mostly emotionless, but slightly sympathetic look.

“Does it hurt that much Y/n?” She asked, walking closer and lifting up the fabric of the hoodie slightly to assess the wound.

“It’s not so bad.” You smiled again, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your voice shook slightly in pain.

She sighed, before turning to face you directly. She looked as if she wanted to say something to you.

“Annie? What is it?” You tilted your head in confusion.

She didn’t respond to you verbally, instead just closing the gap between you two and burying her head in your chest. Her sudden action caught you off guard, and you looked down at her soft, slightly messy blonde hair. You felt the small vibrations of her muttering something into your chest, but it was muffled behind comprehension.

“Annie, I can’t hear you.” You giggle, finally getting comfortable, and running her fingers through her hair soothingly.

She turned her head to the side, and pressed her ear into your chest, and seemed to relax at the sound of your heartbeat. “I don’t like everyone flirting with you so much...” She finally let out.

You giggled quietly, finding her jealousy almost adorable. To everyone else, it was terrifying, but it made you feel loved, if anything.

“You know I’m only interested in you...” You spoke soothingly, continuing to drag your fingers down her scalp, causing her to sigh.

“Still...” She trailed off, not quite being able to find the words for what she meant.

“I get it.” You spoke affirmingly. “We can talk to Reiner and Ymir about it later if we need to,” A small chuckle left your lips before you continued your sentence. “That is, assuming getting kicked off of a rooftop isn’t enough of a lesson for Reiner.”

Annie let out a sweet, genuine laugh at that, and you smiled knowing you made her feel better.

She stood up calmly, stretching lightly before turning her back to you whilst looking at you over her shoulder.

“Now get on, you’re in no condition to use ODM gear.”

A small blush spread across your cheeks, both in response to the affectionate gesture, and at the embarrassment of having to be carried around.

“I-I can carry myself y’know...” You mumbled whilst climbing onto her back, your words clearly not lining up with your actions. Truth be told, you were in a bit of pain, so you didn’t mind the ride.

“Hold on tight sweetie.” She spoke, before getting her running head-start. You gulped and wrapped yourself around her tightly. She took off and followed after the rest of the cadets.

As you zipped through the air, you rested your head on Annie’s shoulder, placing a delicate kiss on her collarbone.

“I love you Annie.” You smiled at her, and she smiled back sweetly.

“I love you too.”

[mymoonagedaydream]

stark! daughter reader and Bucky get into a motorcycle accident. Bucky runs over to the reader who’s laying on her back on the side of the road, injured.

Bubble Wrapped

Summary: Breaking free from your overprotective father felt really good, at least for the first few minutes

Pairing: Bucky x Stark daughter!y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Language

---

For the daughter of a fucking avenger, you really didn’t get to have much fun.

The world knew Tony Stark as the self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist, but the side of him they never saw was the unreasonably strict and overprotective father, the one who barely let you set foot outside the compound without surveillance from a full secret service of bodyguards and a personal apache attack helicopter.

He made sure you stayed close to home job-wise too, arranging for you to begin work as an assistant to your mother as soon as you turned eighteen.

He even kept all the other residents of the compound under strict orders, that no circumstances warranted you getting mixed up in the dangerous side of their work, and that he’d completely ruin anyone who dared challenge him on that.

You lived in bubble wrap. 

You knew that your dad was doing what he thought was best for you, and he did everything he could to make up for your lack of freedom, but all you really wanted was a proper life.

Then Steve brought the newest avenger back to the compound.

You’d seen him in passing a few times, when you ate with Nat in the communal dining area or walked past one of your father’s many meetings, but you only properly met him after he’d been living in the compound for a few weeks.

While Tony was away on business, Pepper gave you a few days off work to relax and have free reign of the compound, during which time you bumped into the newest avenger fixing his motorbike in the parking lot and decided it’d be nice to properly introduce yourself .

‘Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m y/n.’

‘We haven’t, but I’ve heard lots about you.’ He flashed you a smile before standing up and sticking his hand out towards you. ‘Bucky.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

You shook his hand and gave him a polite nod, then taking a few steps past his bike, but stopping when he spoke again.

‘So what's the deal with your dad?’

‘Good question. Could you be more specific?’

He chuckled, pulling a dirty rag from his pocket and wiping the sweat off his forehead. ‘When I arrived, he sat me down and said you need to stay away from all the exciting stuff. You got brittle bones or something?’

‘Not as far as I know, unless they’ve deteriorated from lack of use.’

‘I’ve heard of that happening.’ You huffed slightly at his amused smile, giving him a face of complete resignation in return. ‘You should probably try having some fun.’

‘It’s on my to-do list.’

You headed back towards the door, smiling to yourself and finding that you were extremely intrigued by your father’s new team member. Just as you yanked it open, Bucky shouted after you.

‘I could take you for a ride?’ You spun round, looking back at him in slight shock. ‘On the bike, I mean.’

Your heart started thumping. You definitely wanted to, more than anything, but Christ if your dad ever found out he’d probably lock you in your bedroom until you were forty.

‘That’s a really, really bad idea.’

‘So is that a no?’

You felt a warm smile spread across your face and your legs started moving on their own, instinctively carrying you towards him as you battled the choice out in your mind.

‘Alright, but you can’t tell anyone. For both our sakes.’

‘Deal.’

He only had one helmet, which he gave to you, insisting that it’d take much more than a road accident to cause him any damage. Throwing his leg over the bike, he positioned himself right and gestured for you to hop on.

Your whole body was tingling with excitement as you settled yourself behind him, nervously running your hands over your thighs. As soon as he revved the engine your heart leapt out of your chest.

‘You’re gonna want to hold on, Stark.’ He called over his shoulder. ‘First time can be nerve wracking.’

The bike roared fully into life and he pulled away from the building, the sudden momentum prompting you to throw your arms around his waist and hold on as tight as you possibly could. 

You swivelled your head round, watching the compound disappear into the distance, ecstatic to finally be away from that place for a while.

Bucky sped down country lanes and back roads, laughing heartily at every squeal you let slip, purposefully gunning the bike a little harder after each one. 

You could feel each burst of fear and excitement and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you’d never felt more alive.

But it all changed in an instant.

A car pulled out from a hidden turning without checking the road, speeding right into your path.

Bucky quickly swerved and the motorcycle crashed down onto its side. 

He was thrown over the handlebars, landing with an almighty thud on the tarmac and rolling away a few metres. Your leg got trapped underneath the bike, both you and it sliding across the road so fast that the material of your trousers got ripped away and you felt the rough road surface scraping against your bare leg.

The car immediately sped off, leaving you and Bucky sprawled out in the middle of nowhere, both lucky to be alive.

Even with the unholy amount of adrenaline your brain was producing, you still felt an intense, stabbing pain grow from your trapped leg. It worsened with every deep breath you gulped in, until it became almost unbearable.

Battling through shock and confusion, you lifted your head slightly to try and figure out where Bucky was, spotting him lumbering back onto his feet a few metres away. He sprinted over to you and yanked the bike away like it weighed nothing, relieving some of the pain in your leg, before dropping to his knees.

‘Fuck, are you hurt?’

You shifted slightly and groaned in pain. ‘I think my leg is broken.’

‘Alright, don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance.’

You tried to keep control of your breathing as he spoke down the phone, but you weren’t able to stop intense panic and fear rising in your chest. 

Bucky must’ve seen how scared you were, because while the two of you were waiting for help to arrive, he lay down himself on the road next to you. He held your hand and reassured you that everything was going to be alright. 

He made what would otherwise have been the most terrifying ten minutes of your life completely bearable.

Once you arrived at the hospital, you were taken for x-rays, which showed that you’d only sustained a stable fracture. Your doctor kept passive-aggressively reiterating how lucky you’d been, stating that she rarely saw such minor injuries from severe motorcycle accidents, especially ones that happened at such speed.  

You noticed she didn’t bother lecturing Bucky, even though he was the one not wearing a helmet. Then again, he’d somehow come out of it with no injuries whatsoever and had taken to shooting intense daggers at anyone who even tried to approach him, so she was probably just too intimidated to attempt it.

Fully casted and drugged up, you made your way back to the compound with Bucky, where you explained everything to your mother. Thankfully, she’d always been much less strict, and she agreed that Tony could never know what’d happened. She even helped you devise a very detailed story about how you’d fallen down the stairs while tipsy. Genius.

The evening came around and you found yourself alone in the living room, disappointed at how quickly the morphine they’d given you at the hospital was wearing off. 

Just as you were about to hoist yourself up and raid your father’s liquor cabinet, Bucky shuffled into the room, looking extremely sheepish.

The rest of the avengers weren’t usually allowed into your parents’ private quarters, but with Tony still away and Pepper working all night, he probably figured he was safe for a quick visit.

‘I just came to make sure you’re alright.’

‘Yeah I’m all good, thanks Bucky.’ You glanced over to your monstrosity of a cast and chucked. ‘Well, apart from that thing.’

‘I’m really sorry. Should’ve just stayed away, like your dad said.’

‘No, it wasn’t your fault. That driver was an asshole.’ He nodded, a slight smile spreading across his face. ‘I’m still really glad I said yes. Up until things went sideways, I was having the best time of my life.’

That seemed to cheer him up. His expression evolved into a wide grin and he took a few steps towards you, scanning his eyes over your face.

‘Maybe next time, we should go smaller. Whack-a-mole or something.’

‘Next time?’

‘Yeah. Unless Tony finds out what happened and murders me.’

You bit your lip, trying your best to suppress a giddy grin. 

‘Sounds like a plan.’

---

[vicarfelix]

Internal Suffering

Vicar Max x Fem! Captain

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 2,756

“Captain. You’re better than this.”

“Is she okay?”

“Should we get SAM to break open the door?”

“Damn. No amount of alcohol in the world could drown out what she probably saw.”

“ERROR. Status of Captain’s door...LOCKED.”

Max finally held up a hand to silence the rest babbling crew that was expressing their concern for their Captain from where they sat around the kitchen table. They had known something was wrong the moment that Ellie, Max, and the Captain returned to the ship after they had been out for almost two days. She didn’t say much at all, only offering a brief hello before snatching a drink from the fridge and taking a shower before keeping herself buried away in her quarters. 

She was bruised and had minor injuries in various places. Not to mention that she hadn’t slept in almost 48 hours. But it was clear that was the least of things on her mind.

Max had managed to convince her to open the door long enough for him to check on her, which didn’t amount to much considering that she practically yelled at him to get out and leave her alone for a while. Max usually wouldn’t give up so easily, but he could tell that (despite her angry tone) she wasn’t mad. 

She was hurt.

She was completely rattled by what they had seen today. An ugly painting of horrific images and gruesome smells that not even the hottest of showers could wash away. It would haunt her for weeks to come, and on top of that, she was worried about how this was affecting her crew. 

Thankfully, she had taken Max and Ellie along today, which made her feel a bit better considering they were two of the more thicker skinned of the group. Still, she felt guilty for exposing them to that. 

Max and Ellie gave the crew a brief rundown of what had happened. While they were sickened by it, they were more worried about the Captain.

“Come on. We just want to know if she’s okay.” Felix pleaded.

“She’s just seen probably the worst that the colony has to offer,” Ellie huffed; “I’d be worried if she was okay.”

Max sighed heavily. He was beyond concerned. It wasn’t like you at all to shut out the crew like this. It wasn’t like you to shut him out. He was afraid that this had pushed you over the edge.

“She wishes to be by herself,” Max announced; “We should all give her some space and let her work it out.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Mr. Vicar.” Parvati replied.

“Yeah, I don’t think she ought to be alone after seeing something as traumatic as you’re saying it was.” Nyoka detested.

Max shook his head.

“I know. But she doesn’t want to talk to us. We don’t need to push her.” Max pointed out.

Felix looked stunned at that, his eyes widening.

“She must be really shaken up if she won’t even talk to Max.” He said, clearly alarmed.

While Felix’s statement had innocent intentions, it caused a sting in Max’s chest. It was true that the Captain always seemed to flock to Max when she needed to talk. It was a mixture of things really. He was a professional when it came to listening to confessions, but he was even more comforting being as he was her boyfriend. She never felt like she couldn’t go to him when she needed him until now. 

It was killing him that she was closing herself off to him.

“She’ll be alright. Give her a couple days...or weeks. She’ll feel better when we get this job done.” Ellie stated.

Max sure hoped that Ellie was right. He wasn’t going to be able to stand it if the Captain never got over this. For now, all he could do was keep his arms open to her for when she was ready. Or for when he knew she couldn’t take it anymore.

The crew dispersed reluctantly to finish out their chores to close out the day, the Captain weighing heavily on their minds. Max went to take a shower to wash off the blood (some his and some not his), dirt, and sweat from his body. He took a moment to reflect on what he had seen earlier, realizing that he hadn’t given himself a moment to process everything. He wasn’t quite like Ellie Fenhill who preferred to drink herself into oblivion until her mind was too foggy to remember much of it. He’d rather come to terms with it on his own time.

Max had killed more people that day than he had the entire time he had been traveling with you. The strung out marauders and the doped up test subjects were probably the most terrifying people he had ever encountered. They were basically soul ridden beings with no sense of purpose or morale. They were just blood thirsty, violent animals that were once loving people.

That was the scariest thing imaginable.

Max stood under the stream of water until it threatened to turn cold, prompting his exit. He changed into a pair of clean clothes before leaving the bathroom, debating on what he should do next. By the time he had freshened up, everyone else had turned in for the night. The only sounds were the humming and singing around the ship, as well as Felix’s beloved Tuesday night adventure serial coming from his cabin. 

Max eyed his own cabin, the only one with the door open and the lights turned on. Max chuckled to himself as he entered. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had actually spent an extended amount of time in his cabin. Ever since establishing a serious relationship with the Captain, he found himself staying in her room pretty much always. Her cabin was much larger than his, and despite the fact that her bed was exactly the same as his, he was convinced that it was comfier. 

Maybe because he always had someone he loved snuggled up to him at the end of every day.

He ran a hand through his damp hair to somewhat even it out. It always seemed to have a mind of its own when water dripped from his graying hair. She had always told him that she liked seeing his hair somewhat out of order, which was why she was likely the only person who had ever seen his hair unkempt.

He wasn’t too keen on the idea of sleeping alone, considering he had gotten so used to having her with him. But if she didn’t want him, then he would respect her desires. He bit the inside of his cheek in disapproval when he tried to stretch out onto his bunk. He sank into the mattress that hadn’t been used in quite some time, but it didn’t feel the same. 

His entire cabin just didn’t have the same comfort that hers did. Although, it wasn’t her cabin that he found comfort in. 

It was her.

Every other thought was occupied by his Captain. He wondered what she was doing as he lay there awake, worrying himself beyond measure. He was beginning to go against his own word, tempted to go to her even if she had pushed him away. She was struggling right now. She was suffering. 

He couldn’t just let the woman he loved be in pain like that.

He got up from his bed, quietly going down the stairs to the Captain’s door. The red light above her door indicated that it was still locked, and he couldn’t get in unless she opened it from inside or ADA unlocked it for him. It was awfully quiet from inside the Captain’s quarters, and he hoped that she was just asleep.

He traveled down to the ship’s computer asking ADA nicely to unlock the Captain’s bedroom. ADA, however, almost always gave Max a run for his money.

“I cannot take orders from anyone other than Captain Hawthorne.” ADA informed the vicar.

He groaned. 

“I know, ADA, but I’m worried about her. I just need to get into her room.” Max explained.

He always felt so stupid arguing with a machine. Although, ADA was likely light years smarter than he was.

“I can only take orders from Captain Hawthorne. You are not Captain Hawthorne.” ADA replied.

Max grumbled to himself. He’d have to take a different approach.

“Well...can you at least tell her I want to speak with her?” Max questioned.

“The Captain gave me direct instructions not to converse with her unless there was an emergency. Is this an emergency?” ADA acquired.

“No...” Max responded gruffly. He was a little surprised that the Captain had taken so many steps to avoid anyone from seeing her; “How would I go about unlocking her door myself?”

“Hypothetically, her door would automatically unlock if I entered a rest cycle. But that requires my restart button to be push-”

Suddenly, ADA’s screen went dark as Max put her into a manual rest cycle. The Captain usually ordered ADA to take a rest cycle overnight anyway unless something with the ship went wrong, so Max didn’t feel bad for shutting the computer up for a bit.

He commuted back to the Captain’s door, the doors whirring open to reveal what appeared to be an empty room. The Captain wasn’t sitting at her desk or laying in her bed, and she appeared to be nowhere to be found. Just as Max went to panic, he heard a sound. 

It was a soft noise that he would’ve missed if the room hadn’t been as quiet as it was. He followed the sound of sniffling over to the far corner of the room behind her bunk. 

The Captain was backed into the corner, knees huddled up to her chest with her head buried behind them. Her towel from her earlier shower was still wrapped around her naked body, indicating that she hadn’t even gotten dressed afterwards. Her skin was dry now, and her hair was just barely wet as if she had been there the entire time. She raised her head from her knees when she felt his presence, revealing her reddened, watery eyes and blotchy cheeks from her hours of crying. 

Max’s heart broke at the sight of his Captain falling to pieces like this. She was hands down the strongest, most confident person that he knew. He always reminded her how proud of her he was for always being the bigger person and doing what was right. Maybe that was his mistake. Perhaps he had made her feel like she had to be at her best all the time. 

She looked at him through bleary eyes, a fresh set of tears falling down her cheeks. Her voice cracked as she spoke, her tone thick with sobbing.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She apologized, almost choking on her cries.

Immediately, Max was sitting at her side, her head falling onto his chest as she wailed. He eventually brought her into his lap to hold her close, rubbing her back up and down and kissing her temple. He hushed her, hating the feeling in his gut every time she sobbed out again. Her face was buried into the soft material of his shirt, her tears staining it. Her arms and legs were freezing from being exposed to the cold air of her quarters for so long without clothes, Max’s hands rubbing up and down to provide her some warmth.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here.” He hummed, holding the back of her neck in his hand.

“It was horrible. I’ve never seen anything like that,” She cried; “I don’t know how Spacer’s Choice could ever be capable of something like that.”

“Spacer’s Choice is arguably the most powerful corporation in the colony,” Max spoke; “The stronger the company, the more room there is for catastrophic events.”

The Captain sat up from his chest, leaning against Max’s leg that he had hiked up for her to lean on.

“I fucking hate the Board,” She hissed; “If I have to personally put a bullet in the skull of every single person involved then I swear to Law I’ll do it.”

Max was alarmed by her harsh words, his hands coming to her face to wipe away her tears.

“Captain. You’re better than this,” He remarked; “What’s the number one rule you always tell us? Try to talk it out before pulling the trigger.”

The Captain shook her head. Her tears had dried, but the anger coursing through her was giving her more energy than she had in days. 

“It’s becoming obvious that doesn’t always work. I don’t care if I have to wipe out every soul in Byzantium if it means overthrowing the Board.” She growled.

The last thing that Max ever wanted was for the Captain’s heart of gold to be hardened by all the things she had seen. In the beginning, the Captain had the most hope for the colony’s revival. Now though, her hope was diminishing with each new discovery she made.

He didn’t want her to become a lost soul the way that he had been for so long.

“What happened to my darling Captain? This isn’t you.” Max stated.

“I want the Board out of the system. Halcyon’s never going to make it with them around.” She replied in fury, ignoring his question.

“Captain, I-”

“I personally want to throw Sophia Akande out of an airlock.” She went on.

“Listen to me, this isn’t-”

“I’d like to throw her in a cell and pump her full of drugs just like-”

“Stop,” Max cut her off; “This isn’t how you do things. I know this isn’t how you want to do things.”

She finally let her tense shoulders relax for a second. Her eyes falling downward, her hands fiddling with the edge of her towel. 

“I know,” She whispered out; “I’m just tired of seeing so many people get hurt. Earth was never like this...not really.”

Max felt relief. Now she was beginning to sound like herself again. He pushed her hair behind her ear to reveal her pretty, but tired face. He caressed her face with his hand, her cheek resting in his palm. 

“If you keep doing things the way you have been, taking things day by day...then we’re going to be fine,” Max said; “I believe in you. I believe in us.”

She nodded, his hand falling to her waist and rubbing through her towel. 

“What do I do now?” She asked.

Max smiled softly.

“For now, let’s get you in bed. We can figure everything else out in the morning.” Max said, kissing the Captain’s knuckles in a gentle manner.

“Okay.” She replied.

She had to admit, it felt nice to have someone else giving orders for once.

Sleeping the rest of the night away was sounding really good to the Captain right about now. Without really giving it a second thought, the Captain let her towel fall so she could get dressed. She caught the way his eyes lit up at her naked frame, a blush evident on his face as he looked over her. She smirked a little, the first real positive emotion she’d had all day.

“You’re blushing, Vicar.” She teased,

His grin was blinding, as he pulled his leg in more to bring you in closer. 

“It’s hard not to,” He purred; “Beautiful...”

She kissed him like she meant it. His hands were warm on her exposed skin as he touched her the way he had dozens of times before. She ran her fingers through his hair, his smirk showing on her lips.

“I’m here for you. I love you.” He rumbled deeply.

“I love you.” She returned.

Max guided her up from the floor, wincing at the way her joints cracked from being uncomfortable for so long. He got her into a shirt to sleep in, bringing her over to her bed and getting her comfortable up against him. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep. The feel of Max next to her and the softness of the mattress under her was enough to send her straight to sleep. Max was tired too, but he wanted to make sure she was okay before he got any sleep. 

He knew she wasn’t totally back to normal. It’d be a while before she felt like herself fully again. But he didn’t care how long he had to wait.

He’d always be there for her.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉

Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.

@wltz-bby​ @mandy23b​ @happyskywhale​ @missunsympathetic​

Author’s Note:  Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for. 

So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.

Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising​ Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!

Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip

Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.

Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”

Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....

Words: 17,100

Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut. 

_____

He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee  There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too

---

He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.

Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it.  Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…

***

 Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.

You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this?  Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same.  Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!

Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.

It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.

You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir’s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.

Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…

Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.

Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.

You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.

By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?

It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.

You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.

Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.

Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”

Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.

You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.

Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.

As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’

You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)

You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.

That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.

You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.

You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun.   Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’

You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”

Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.

Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.

Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.

You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.

“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.

Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.

“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.

“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.

Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”

If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”

“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.

You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”

You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.

“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”

You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.

Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?

His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.

 Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.

He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.

You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.

Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”

---

Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!? 

I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys! 

Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜

[avenging-criminal-bones]

Claustrophobic

Spencer x Reader

Requested?: YES

Word Count: 2264

Warnings: Mentions of unsub, guns, violence, hurt/comfort, panic attack

A/N: SORRY! I kind of got carried away with the prompt from anon

* * * * *

If there was one thing that no one on the team knew about you, it was your extreme claustrophobia. Small spaces, dark corners, the whole nine-yards would set your off in a heartbeat. Especially if you had to share the space with someone else. 

No one knows. Not even Spencer. 

Who you’ve been dating. 

For almost a year. 

It stemmed from your childhood. Your parents had both died in a house fire when you were young, seven, to be exact. So when they were no longer there to take care of you, your uncle took you in and raised you as if you were already a trouble maker. 

There was a closet in your uncle’s house about four feet high and three feet by three feet as the interior. Relatively small. Whenever you needed to be punished of have anything done, you were locked in the closet. Some nights, he would be so wasted or hyped up on weed that he’d forget about you in there, leaving you overnight to fend for your food and bathroom situation. 

For eleven years that was the only form of correction that he’d give you, until you left. You got out of there as soon as you were eighteen. 

Which is why the current case put you in a sort of predicament. You aren’t in any sort of danger, at least not immediately, but the unsub had capture you and Spencer. He locked the both of you in a dark metal box. It must have been an old shipping container, since you’d chased the perpetrator into an abandoned warehouse. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was rough. The two of you had been drugged, just now waking up from the chloroform-induced sleep. In passing, you wondered if this was going to react badly with Spencer’s previous, forced-drug abuse. “Are you in here?”

“Y-Yeah. Spence... where-”

“I don’t know.”

You feel him shift beside you, not being able to see him due to the pitch blackness of the storage container. A moment later you feel a presence directly beside you and jump slightly. “Wh-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Just my hand. I’m trying to gauge how wide this box is.” His voice sounds much too composed for the current situation. “Judging by the fact that I’m six foot one and my wingspan is about that same length, combined with the unfortunate reality that about three feet of my arms cannot stretch out, I’m going to guess that we are in a three by three foot container. The metallic sounds of my nails hitting the wall,” he drums his fingers a bit to show you, “means that this is a thicker metal, which translates to: no phone service.” He pauses for a second and hears the sound of your whimpering from directly in front of him. “Y/N?”

Your anxieties have been building up since you had come to your senses just a few moments before Spencer. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were stuck in a small, dark, damp container, much like the closet from your childhood. You didn’t want to think about how you and Spencer had a shared, limited amount of air. You didn’t want to face that reality, but Spencer wouldn’t stop talking. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Spencer grabbed your hand, but you jerked away quickly, hyperventilating as your thoughts raced in your head. 

“I-No. I c-can’t. Spence- I can’t b-breathe. Please. Oh my- I can’t. I can’t.” Your words stutter out and they’re progressively getting more desperate. 

Spencer’s eyes furrow and he shakes his head, not that you could see the confusion written in his body language though in the darkness. 

“Y/N. We’re not running out of oxygen yet,” your breathing still came out in sharp pants, not relaxing by his words. “Judging by the burning alcoholic smell in my nose, and the fact that we woke up about seven minutes ago, lack of oxygen in this container, which has an area of 27 inches times three,” he works through the math in his head for a moment, “won’t be a concern for another 113 minutes.”

“No, no, no...” You whimper to yourself, murmuring no in hopes that your denial can magically open the container. “NO! I c-can’t- It’s not- Spence- it’s small... there’s no- I can’t...”

You interrupt yourself with quiet sobs, willing Spencer to understand what your problem is so you don’t have to try and explain it in your state. 

“Y/N? Are you- is this claustrophobia?” His voice is soft, trailing off at the end. He knows that panic attacks are a consistent sign of things like phobias and mental health disorders, but you’d never given him a reason to associate it to you. 

You nod your head, forgetting that he can’t see you until he repeats your name to try and prompt an answer. 

“Y-yes. I know. It’s dumb- I just... I can’t. Spence- It’s not. I just need- I can’t breathe.”

Spencer lowers his voice to a gentle lull, being careful not to startle you as he talks. “Y/N, I’m going to approach you. I’m going to rest my hand on your face, and I’m going to grab your right hand with my left, okay?”

Again, you nod first before answering him vocally, “Yeah, yes.” 

Spencer’s shoulders droop slightly, hearing the hitching in your voice mixed with the relief that you’ll let him help you. You feel a shift in the container as he switched from sitting to kneeling in front of you. He does exactly what he said he would and slowly, you sense him getting closer to you. After a moment of that, your chest heaves, your brain not allowing you to get a full breath in before it thinks you’re being attacked. His hand rests on your face then and he gently puts pressure on the back of your neck, alternating pressures with each of his fingers individually. 

“Can you feel me?” He asks gently, cooing into your ear in an attempt to calm you down. 

Not having words, you just shake your head. You don’t. You know that it’s there, but right now everything is just too much. There’s too much in your head, too many distractions running through your brain. 

Spencer reaches forward with his other hand and grabs your right hand like he said that he was going to. He places your hand over his heart, leaving his hand there when he did. 

“Y/N, you’re okay. We’re okay. I promise.”

It broke his heart to see you shattering like this. Something that Spencer had admired so, so much in you before you started dating was your fearlessness. Now it seemed like that was being torn away from you.  

Spencer rested his forehead against yours and sighed to himself as he kept his ministrations going on the back of your neck. 

Your breath hitched as you started to calm down. The hand on his chest clutched his once-nice shirt in your hand. It was wrinkled from the vice-like grip, but Spencer wouldn’t have cared. He just wants you to be okay. 

“S-Spencer, I can’t... I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, I can’t-” Your desperate words devolved into short pants, strangled whines as you doubled over yourself, trying to find something to anchor yourself to.

“Y/N! Hey, hey, hey. Y/N it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe, I promise.” Spencer didn’t know what to do. His heart was breaking for you; he hated the way you were shaking so badly, and sobbing so openly. 

You sat there a few minutes with Spencer trying to calm you down. Eventually, your breathing calmed to quiet pants and hitches, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand that was cradling your face. 

You were stilled curled up, still in no position to open your eyes and look around. 

“... ‘m sorry, Spence...” You were exhausted now. There was no way you’d be able to stay awake much longer. 

“Y/N? Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to have fears. It’s okay to have crippling panic attacks. Did you know, at my niece’s birthday party last year she had a clown come?” He pauses for a second, not really expecting you to answer yet. He continues, “ Anyways, I’m deathly afraid of clowns. And this guy popped up behind me to surprise all of the children. Long story short, I had to leave early because I punched the guy in the face.”

For the first time since you two had been captured, you huffed out a short laugh. Breathlessly, you asked, “You punched a birthday clown? Oh my God, Spence.”

Spencer’s shoulders finally dropped, the tension releasing as he saw that you were slowly getting better. “Yeah, it was a catastrophe in itself.”

Reaching over, you grabbed Spencer’s hand off of his chest and held it close to your face. You snuggled up to him, ignoring the fact that he is your co-worker and this is wrong. 

“Spencer?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh slightly before asking your question. “Is the team going to come for us?”

“Oh, sweetheart... Of course. Yes. They will come for us.” 

Spencer squeezed your hand in an attempt at reassurance. He could tell that your eyelids were drooping and that you were fighting to stay awake after your panic attack. 

“Get some rest, Y/N. I’ll wake you up when you need to be alert, okay?” His voice is soft as he speaks to you. 

Your eyes were finally closing, you hadn’t even responded to his request before you were drifting. 

The sound of gun shots hitting the side of the container wakes you up quickly, jerking you out of your sleeping state. 

“Spencer?!” You exclaim, sitting up fast as you tried to adjust to the darkness to look at your teammate. 

“I’m here, I’m right here.” His hand finds yours again and he subtly tugs your closer to him, trying to keep you out of harms way of a stray bullet. 

More gunshots follow, the sound of them hitting the space around you too loud, causing you to throw your hands over your ears. 

You only pull them away when you feel a hard flinch from beside you. From Spencer. 

“Spencer..? Spence?” You flip around fast, seeing his pained face. 

You can see him. 

You shouldn’t be able to see him. You were in an enclosed space... A box... No windows. 

Except for the inch-wide hole right in front of Spencer. 

The whole from the bullet. 

That was lodged in his arm. 

Spencer’s arm. 

“No... No, no, no. NO!” Without thinking, you press against the wound in his shoulder. Too close to his clavicle. Too close to him. It’s second nature to you, but even so, you whisper sorries to him ever minute for causing him pain. 

Distantly, you notice that the gunfire had died down. The only sounds now were your dry sobs and Spencer’s labored breathing. His pained groans. Because he was shot.

“Spencer, please. Please, please stay with me. Stay with me damn it. Spence!” You can’t even tell what you were saying anymore, you just knew that you were stringing pleas from your lips to your boyfriend. 

His blood was all over your hands, spilling onto the ground. He was shaking as he reached up to grab your arm. 

“Y/N... It’s okay. I’m- It’s fine.” You chose to ignore how he didn’t say that he was fine. “It’s okay. Do you h-hear that? It’s Hotch and JJ. I’m okay.”

Suddenly, you feel even worse about the anxieties from a few hours ago. Compared to this, it seemed even less important and relevant than it had then. 

“I don’t... I don’t-” You break off, covering your mouth to keep in a louder sob. Thinking, you realize that if he wants to think that the help is here, then you need to let him. In the chance that he doesn’t-

NO. You will not think about that. 

“Yeah, Spence. I hear them. They’re rounding the corner now.” 

Your tears fall openly now, with Spencer holding your hand and the dim light from the middle of the day shining through that small hole. That tiny hole that might have decided your boyfriend’s fate. 

Sure enough though, your boss runs into view of the hole and you almost let out a sob of relief. Keeping the pressure on Spencer’s shoulder, you feel him tense beneath you. “Stay awake, Reid. You stay awake. Hear me?”

He nods his head weakly just as Hotch opens the lid. Immediately, you stand up and he helps you up before sending medics in to help Spencer. As soon as you’re out of the confinements, you collapse to the ground, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. 

You knew you’d have to tell the team about your claustrophobia when it was reported in the debrief, but for now, you didn’t have any worries other than Spencer. 

You knew he was going to be okay as soon as you sat in the back of the ambulance with him and he started spewing off facts about the likelihood of a gunshot wound to the left arm below any arteries was to do any serious damage. According to him, the number was low, so you knew that if he slept it off and got the bullet removed in time, he would be just fine. 

Silently, you mouth ‘I love you’ to Reid, him already knowing it was coming. He said it back before falling into a deep, adrenaline-crash sleep, you tucking your head right next to him and doing the same thing, hoping for a better tomorrow. 

[thetriggeredhappy]

Consider: the scene in the comics where Scout dies, but instead it's Spy who's dying and he actually has the balls to tell Scout the truth face-to-face before it's too late.

consider: this shit is gonna break your heart, anon. dad!spy hours

(warnings for canon-typical violence, extreme character injury, major character death)

-

Just his luck that he’d find himself alone with so many of those ridiculous robots and with his knee so destroyed. He at least managed to take down the one that finally got him.

These tin cans didn’t even know enough to understand how to efficiently kill someone, he seethed. He’d certainly be bleeding out shortly—he was fairly sure he had a punctured lung, among other things, but the blood loss would probably be what did him in—but god, it was taking forever.

He could take some solace in that he at least didn’t drag Sniper to die along with him, had sent him to try and pick off as many bots as he could from the windows. And... well, he was fairly sure he’d been as useful as he could have been in this fight. Helped kill one of the Classic team—two, if you counted throttling his own counterpart—and done some good recon work besides. This wasn’t the most poetic or heroic death, but he wasn’t a fan of poetry and had never considered himself much of a hero, so that was probably fair.

But that stupid robot had ruined his jacket, which he was pretty annoyed about. Not like it would matter in the long run, but frustrating regardless.

God, it was cold.

He lifted his head when he heard the sound of rapid footfalls echoing down the hall, growing closer. Hey, maybe he could trick some robot into finishing him off, at least. Save himself some time and excruciating pain. He would’ve gone for the cyanide tooth, but unfortunately, this was the one situation where he’d jumped for that option a little bit too early. Just his luck.

(God, it was cold.)

Oh, well. Bludgeoned to death by a Scoutbot at least promised to be relatively quick. They tended to go for the head.

He looked up to at least give a snide remark to his more rapidly-approaching death, only for them to get stuck in his throat as the death in question rounded the corner and made eye contact with him.

“Holy shit, Spy?” Scout asked, looking startled and a little out of breath.

“Merde,” Spy mumbled, and was a little caught off guard by how hoarse his voice was.

In a second Scout had taken a knee next to him and was surveying the damage, mouth running at a mile a minute. “Holy shit we were lookin’ everywhere, Sniper showed up because I guess he was dead but now he’s better apparently and he said you two split off for some reason but you’d been fuckin’ kneecapped and—dude, you look like shit, what happened?”

“What does it look like?” Spy asked dryly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna give you an ‘I told you so’ or nothin’ but this is kinda what you get for disappearing and running off on your own all the time,” Scout pointed out.

He almost couldn’t feel the tiny ache of guilt that put in his chest underneath all the other much more life-threatening aches that were also in his chest. “Well, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I think unfortunately I won’t be able to demonstrate any time soon,” Spy replied, and yeah, there was a puncture to his lung. He had to fight hard to hold down a cough, and only because he knew it would sound extremely pathetic.

“Okay, uh—can you move? Okay, you can’t move,” Scout seemed to decide. “Uh, okay, okay so I’ll uh—so I’m gonna go get Medic, and—he’s fast too we should be able to get back here in like ten minutes flat, easy! Just, I guess try and hold your guts in, I’ll be right back with help!”

Considering the amount of injured Medic was likely to be, he very much doubted Scout would be back with Medic in only ten minutes. And considering the way that his vision was swimming and how distorted Scout’s face got towards the tail end of that last sentence, he doubted he would make it ten minutes anyways.

And he found unexpected panic suddenly rising up in his chest at the thought of dying alone, here in a hallway surrounded by broken mechanical parts and acrid smoke. He forced himself into motion despite the way it made the entire room suddenly seem to careen to the left, and managed to catch Scout by the leg of his ridiculous trousers before he could take off again. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait.”

“I, no, I gotta go get Medic, I’ll take like ten seconds—“ Scout was quick to assure, so quick that Spy realized he was legitimately worried.

“I’ll—“ Spy started, and paused to clear his throat just to give himself enough time to think of an excuse to have Scout stick around for a minute. “I’ll be fine to wait a little longer, but first I had something important to say.”

Scout frowned. “Yeah?”

And he did. He absolutely did. The problem was that this excuse was... hm.

The problem was that this was something he’d been putting off. The larger part of the situation for about 20 years, and then more directly for about six. And Spy thought that surely he would work up the courage to get to it over the course of their employment, only for it to be unexpectedly terminated, and he decided, well, that was that. He would just have to live with it. But then they got arrested and the thought that surely he would get to it over the course of their time in prison, and once again he didn’t, couldn’t seem to force himself into that conversation, not when he was trapped, not when he couldn’t run from whatever outcome ended up happening.

And now he was dying. And for all he knew, Scout was going to die shortly as well. And in most of the ways that mattered, Spy was the only person who could really answer this question, because apparently Scout’s mother had committed to the lie he’d asked her to tell, had continued to stay headstrong on helping to cover up how he’d faked his death. And how was she to know he was really dead, surely Scout would never bring it up—

If he didn’t tell Scout now, Scout would never know.

Scout would go the rest of his life never getting answers about his father.

“Merde,” he mumbled again, slumping back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the way the world was spinning, feeling motion sick.

He heard Scout take a knee again, and after a second he hesitantly prompted him. “Uh, what? What is it? What’s up?” he asked carefully.

Spy forced himself to open his eyes, and was a little startled by how difficult it was. He focused hard on one of his own shoes, trying his best to make the world stop spinning so fast. He swallowed hard to try and clear his throat, steady his voice. It almost worked. “This is very important,” he started with, and forced sharpness into his tone. “So I will not be needing any of your little jokes and quips and interruptions.”

“Y... yeah, okay,” Scout said, and the worry was extremely easy to read on his face, and Spy kind of hated that.

Spy considered his words. “You’ve mentioned before that you never knew your father,” he decided to open with. Scout immediately began to frown. “And... and I never said anything. Even though that was a very brave thing to bring up.”

Scout opened his mouth to reply before remembering himself and shutting it again.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Spy managed to choke, and he kept track of Scout’s expressions in his periphery, finding it easier to hold on to that way than by trying to look at him directly. “Because you’re never going to get the chance to know your father, not really. Not in the way you deserve, and it’s my fault.“

“Spy, what the fuck does that even mean?” Scout demanded, and maybe the anger starting to flood into his voice was fair. “You—what did you do?”

“You deserved to have a father,” Spy said, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was dodging the question, but maybe he wanted to be obvious, just for a minute. “A good one, who did all sorts of ridiculous fatherly things for you. And it’s not your fault that you didn’t. You deserved to. You did.”

God, it was cold.

“And he should have been there for you, and for your family,” Spy continued, and felt his stomach lurch unexpectedly, and had to shut his jaw tight for a moment, tight enough to feel his fake teeth aching. “And he should have supported them and been a good father, and your life should have been made much more easy than it was, and you should not have needed to get in fights and become a criminal in the first place, and you should never have needed to sign up to become a murderer in some terrible desert in New Mexico among a pack of assassins and madmen.”

“Spy, I, I should get Medic—“ Scout tried to cut in, moved as if to stand back up. Spy snared a hand in the front of Scout’s shirt, and though he knew full well that he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop Scout in any capacity, he froze up anyways.

“And—and I know that you deserved a real father, and I knew that,” Spy said, “and I know there is no excuse that can ever be given. There is nothing that I can ever say to make it up to you, or to your mother, or your brothers, nothing. And I should have been there but I was scared and I was convinced I was being hunted and I cared too much about all of you to let that happen because of me, and it was selfish—“

“Spy,” Scout said, and it took all the strength that Spy had just to look at him, and there were a lot of emotions on his face just then. He saw realization, for one. Shock, astonishment maybe.

And for the first time in maybe his entire life, Spy decided that he just needed to be honest. 

“I’m your father, Jeremy,” Spy croaked.

Silence. Long, long silence. In the far distance, gunshots and explosions and yelling, soft enough that he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination.

“You gonna try and say some kind of cool line, now, too?” Scout asked, and his voice was sharp enough to sting, and Spy winced at it. “Some kind of bullshit about how it, it was for my own good? Or that it’s—that you always cared from far away or some shit, that it was better this way? Gonna ask me to fuckin’ forgive you, here on your deathbed?”

“No, I am not,” Spy replied, voice faint. “I know there is nothing I can say to make it up to you. Words are insufficient.” He breathed deeply and forced down the instinct that was telling him to cough. “But I would rather not leave you wondering forever. I thought... this was better than nothing.”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Silence.

“I get the distinct impression that you are angry with me,” Spy managed.

“Duh, I’m mad at you. Jesus fuck, you have no clue how mad I am at you. But I’m not...” Scout paused to think over his words. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at... old you. The you who ran off. And... I dunno. Kinda seems like you hate that guy too.”

“Very much,” Spy confirmed.

“Yeah. I dunno. I guess... I dunno.” Scout paused for a long moment. “And... maybe this is better than nothing, I guess. Because... it’s not the same or nothin’, but... I dunno. At least I know now. And... at least I know what my dad’s like now. That’s something.” 

Silence. Spy managed a nod, but not words.

When Scout spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically level. “You’re gonna die here, aren’t’cha, Spy?”

“Oui. I have no doubt in my mind,” Spy sighed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Scout could hear it.

Scout was quiet for a minute. He moved to pull Spy’s hand off of his shirt (not that it was difficult), and for one terrifying moment Spy thought he was about to just drop Spy’s hand and stand up and leave him to rot in some hallway on an uncharted island where he would never be found. His vision was darkening rapidly, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try and stop him again, or that it would even work.

But instead Scout clasped Spy’s hand in his own and held it tight to his chest, squeezing Spy’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Run hell, asshole,” Scout said with the slightest of smiles, and it was so like Scout to be joking just then, to be trying to comfort him just then even if it was in his own way, to find the most indirect, roundabout method of letting Spy know that things were okay. And it made Spy laugh, and laughing was the last thing that Spy remembered.

-

He saw the last of the color drain from Spy’s face, the way the muscles there slowly went slack, and after a long moment he moved the hand from Spy’s shoulder to check for a pulse. He shifted to try again three times, not positive he was doing it right, before realizing, no. He was definitely doing this right. Spy was dead.

He let his own hand drop, then carefully laid down Spy’s.

Man. Twenty-seven fuckin’ years, and he finally finds his dad, and it’s Spy. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Spy would find a way to escape that kind of conversation and never look back, but he was a little surprised that his solution was apparently dying.

...

That wasn’t that funny.

Scout leaned back, scrubbed at his face with his hand, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Conflicted emotions. Conflicted thoughts.

Jesus, he should’ve seen it. That dumb dream he’d had back at Heavy’s house when he’d almost died, the stupid jokes Spy kept making about his Ma and the suspicious amount of information Spy had about him, way more than was probably on any official record. And the weird shit Heavy had been saying to him, and all the times Spy stuck his neck out for him when he really didn’t have to—

He didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to guess, but it was definitely obvious enough to suspect.

...So being an asshole ran in the family, huh?

He sat back on his heels.

...His Ma always said they had similar eyebrows. And their eyes in general, apparently. Ears. The mask made it kinda hard to tell.

The mask.

For a few seconds, Scout really genuinely considered taking the mask off.

This was his dad. Ma apparently lost the few pictures she had of him years ago, and this was his only chance. If he didn’t look now, he’d never really know what his dad looked like. Not in a real way. And didn’t he deserve to know? Hadn’t he earned this?

But he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. That was a kind of disrespect he couldn’t stoop to, not even to a dead guy.

He didn’t know why, but he felt himself tearing up.

If he made it out of this alive, he made a promise to himself. He was gonna talk to Miss P—those two were friends, right?—and he was gonna find out more about Spy. He’d hire a private eye if he had to, he’d spend every penny of his Tom Jones money figuring out everything he could. Spy hadn’t given him a lot to work with, but it was something. It was enough.

He wiped his eyes, rocked forward to stand, shook himself. For a second he thought about getting Medic, seeing if he could work his magic, but he’d only seen Sniper for a minute, only long enough for him to say that coming back to life was a one-time deal. He took a deep breath and turned, starting to walk down the hallway. Running off felt wrong just then.

Maybe God was looking out for him, just then, because that meant he hadn’t turned the corner down the hall, which meant he heard the feeble little cough behind him and could turn around, could see that Spy had a hand lifted.

A pause to process.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Scout scathed in the angriest voice he could manage, even as he felt tears leap into his eyes.

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

i need you. John B x Sarah

Request: “ Drabble request! Sort of got the idea from @alexandracheers house won’t fall story! How about Sarah is scared to talk to Ward about something, or they got into an argument and John B is there for her afterwards. Maybe a little spin on it and Sarah is still at school so John B can’t physically be there and he calls/FaceTimes with her? Thank you!! ☺️ “

Word Count: 2.5K

Author’s Note: Few things! 1) This is pure angst. Panic, fear, all of it. (I hurt my own feelings writing it so proceed w caution!) 2) I know that this does not follow the prompt exactly. I have talked with the anon that left this request, and we have decided to forego the talk with Ward, based on the direction I ended up taking this. That being said, I will be writing some other scenes with Ward because, I mean, c’mon, there’s just so much to work with there.

One last thing! This drabble was initially inspired by @alexandracheers​ work The House Won’t Fall (When the Bones Are Good) If you have not read that story yet, YOU. ARE MISSING. OUT. (Do yourself a favor: go read it and then come talk to me so we can talk about it.) Okay, here’s the drabble:

Sarah's gasping for breath as she waits for John B to answer. The photo of him blurred by her tears so she can only see the colors on the screen.

He answers on the 5th ring. "Hey Val, how's it going?" His upbeat, and happy voice makes her breakdown all over again. He's happy, probably spending the morning with JJ, making plans for the day. And now she was going to call and break them.

She tries to get a hold on herself, but the sobs don't stop wracking her body.

"Hey," John B instantly adopts the soft, gentle tone he does when she's upset. Though, he's never heard her this distraught before. "Hey. Sarah. Baby, what's going on. Talk to me."

Her whole body convulses as she's trying to catch her breath, coughing and gagging at the failed attempt.

"Sarah." His voice is steady. Not angry, but firm; calm. "Sarah, listen to me. Listen to me, okay." She quiets enough to focus on his words. "It's okay. You're okay."

But she wasn't. He had to have known she wasn't.

"You're okay. Try to breathe, okay?"

She lets out another heavy sob, and brokenly whispers his name.

"I'm right here." He soothes. "I'm right here, Sarah. I'm not going anywhere, but you need to breathe, okay?"

She really does try to even her breathing. But every time she starts to get a handle on her emotions, her mind races and spirals her right back down, again.

"Is Kristen home?" He's trying to see if her roommate is there, probably to make sure she doesn't pass out or choke on her own vomit.

Getting the one syllable "no" out is harder than it needs to be.

"Okay," she can tell he's thinking, "okay, I'm on my way to come get you. Is that okay?"

The gesture causes her throat to close as more tears stream down her already wet cheeks.

He continues, "we can stay there, or come back to the Banks for the weekend, or I'll leave you be for the weekend. Whatever you need, I just need to make sure you're okay, and I don't want you to be alone when you're this upset." He sounds almost like he's trying to convince her, like she's the parent and he desperately wants to spend the night at his friends house.

"John B." she tries his name again, though this time it sounds a little stronger.

"Yeah, Sarah, I'm here."

She'd give anything to stop the sobs that have her chest heaving, to allow her to just speak to him normally. Or for him to be able to read her mind. At this point, either or would be beneficial. "I need you, John B." And the confession has her holding the phone above her head as she covers her face with her forearms. "I don't know what to do, and I just- I really need you, John B!" She sobs again.

"Okay." She hears the panic in his voice and the shuffling of objects as he no doubt is trying to get out of the house as fast as possible. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm on my way, Sarah. I'm on my way."

When the van pulls into the parking lot of Sarah's dorm, John B is already giving himself a mental pep talk. He had stayed on the phone with Sarah for the first half hour of his trip, soothing and calming her as much as he could through the phone. When she realized that he was, in fact, coming to get her, she did calm down a minuscule amount, but was still distraught enough for him to be concerned. He had toyed with calling Wheezie to see if she knew anything about what had happened, but decided against it as he didn't want to get the girl wound up until he had all of the pieces to the puzzle.

After the first 30 minutes of their trip, she had quieted enough to the point where he could hear her breathing even out as she cried herself to sleep. This fact had wrecked the man currently driving 15 over the speed limit to try and decrease the time it took for him to get there, but he allowed himself a bit of comfort knowing that she was comforted enough by him talking that she was able to relax enough to fall asleep.

In all honesty, that probably was the best thing for her at the moment.

Since it was only midday, he didn't have to worry about checking into building. And, given the fact that Sarah had given him her spare apartment key (though, no one could know since that most definitely was a breech in her housing contract) he was able to get right into the elevator and travel to the fourth floor.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a nervous wreck. Whatever had Sarah this upset had to be at least somewhat serious. He let his mind wander, wondering if she had heard something from Ward, or Rafe. He knew that she had petitioned to file a restraining order, barring them from contacting her in any way (even though they were currently behind bars in federal prison).

When the doors opened to the fourth floor, he forced himself to clear his mind. Ready to do whatever he had to, in order to make sure she was okay. The only people he saw on his way to Sarah's room was a girl at the opposite end from where Sarah's room was, locking her door, and another group of people walk past the intersection further down.

He knocked on the door before moving to insert the key. When no one responded, he assumed Kristen must've been out for the day, and Sarah was probably still asleep. He opened the door, and immediately moved to the door that led to Sarah's room, not bothering to give the main living area a second glance.

The first thing he noticed when he softly swung the door open was that her bed was empty. A quick scan of the room, and he saw her slumped over on the floor to his left, against the wall that the door was on. John B's heart swelled at the sight of her: hair on top of her head, she wore a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, and her cheeks were caked with dried tears. Her phone lay next to her head, just next to her right hand.

He quickly shut the door behind him, and moved her phone, before kneeling down in front of her unconscious body. He just looked at her for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons of waking her up, or letting her sleep her heartache off. He decided to at least move her to the bed so she could be a little more comfortable than on the concrete floor. This also allowed him to hold her for awhile, which he didn't realize he needed until he picked her up.

It was like his world came back into alignment. He could see his north star, hold her close to his chest; he was really with her.

Sarah stirred as he placed her on the bed, pausing to grab a blanket before crawling into bed behind her. He rubbed her temple with his fingertips, running them gently through her hair a little ways before repeating the motion. It wasn't long before her eyes slowly slid open to look at him.

"You're here." His heart broke for the 4th time today as her voice cracked.

He smiled down at her. "I told you I was on my way." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she moved to sit up. He followed her movements, holding onto her hand as she looked around her room, probably getting her bearings, and refusing to look back over at him. He waited patiently for her to speak, rubbing his thumb over her hand to help ground her. He sees her hand go up to her mouth, and hears the soft sob that escapes her mouth before hes pulling her into him, hugging the right side of her body to his chest and slowly running his hands down her left arm.

"John B..." he knows she wants to tell him, she just isn't able to get the words out.

"I've got you." He promises, not knowing if it's the right or wrong thing to say as she brings her hands to her eyes, squeezing them shut and wiping at her tears. She may also be using it as an excuse to block her face from his view, and he wishes more than anything that she would take her hands away so he can see her. "Sarah," he continues, ducking his head in an attempt to get her to look at him. He knows that she feels comforted by his presence, but you wouldn't know that by looking at her right now. Her body language says that she's absolutely terrified. And that terrifies him even more. "Sarah, talk to me. Please don't shut me out, Val. Let me help you, please."

The stay like this for a few more moments before Sarah scrambles off the bed, and kneels in front of the trash can next to her desk. John B is behind her before she begins gagging, rubbing circles on her back as her body heaves. He thought his heart was breaking when he answered the phone this morning to her sobs. He thought his heart was breaking when he saw her lying asleep on the floor. But now, as he all but held her body weight against him, gently rubbing her back, and murmuring against her shoulder how much he loved her, he could literally feel the strings of his heart snapping.

Her body is shaking, weak and spent as she heaves again and again. Strangely enough, this (combined with the fact that she can feel John B's deep breaths on her back) helps to regulate her breathing enough to where she is calming down. She sniffs, and he sneaks a glance at her face, and sees her eyes are closed, right hand in her hair, left holding his. Her mouth is open as she breathes, and the tension in the air only gets heavier.

John B kissed her shoulder, and though her eyes don't open, she gives a short laugh that isn't comical in the slightest, and in the softest voice he's heard yet today, she says, "I'm sorry."

He kisses her shoulder again, not wanting to move until she did, but wanting to reassure her. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

She sniffs again, and though there are still tears on her cheeks, the sobs the had her whole body convulsing are for the most part gone. Her head is still in her right hand, and her eyes are still closed. "I'm pregnant." She confesses, opening her eyes to stare at the wall in front of her before closing again as her bottom lip trembles sporadically as she tries to fight off another breakdown now that he knows.

His mind is tripping over itself at the speed it goes, trying to think through what this means. He looks back at her face, and her eyes are still closed, but he can tell she's close to losing it again. He has no idea how long she's known.

Probably just since this morning, given the state she called him in. She was terrified, which was why she called him, but he realized that a large majority of that fear (for the time being at least) had to be at telling him. "Sarah." he turns her body around to face him which isn't difficult given how weak she is. He pulls her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her, trying to shield her from the fear and pain that she is feeling. "It's okay." He says, and he can hear her crying again.

"I'm so scared." She admits, and he adjusting his arms trying to hold more of her in an attempt to hold her together. Because he knows if he can't focus on holding her together, then he's the one that's going to fall apart. And he's smart enough to know that he has to be strong for her right now, show her that he's supportive, and still loves her. He can, and most definitely will, break down later.

"I know." He's trying to think of what to say. As if there's something that can make the situation better, that can solve all of the pain in her heart. "I know, but Sarah," he's pulling back to try and look at her, because she has to know that he means every word. "Sarah, I promise you that I am not going anywhere, okay? We can- figure everything out, we can talk about everything, make a plan, we can do whatever we need to do, but I promise you I am not going anywhere. I love you." It's a phrase they've used so many times, so many ways, but this time he says it, he can hear the emotion that makes his voice thick and fragile. He knows she hears it, too, because her hands are on his face and bringing him back from his mental spiral. "I love you, Sarah. And I'm so sorry that this happened. I know you're scared, and I'm scared, and I don't know what we're going to do but I'm going to be here, okay. I'm going to protect you, and do whatever I can to keep you safe." She gives him a smile at his rambling. He tries to return it, but he can't think straight. He's thinking about how he's going to pay for a baby, and what is going to happen to them, and how are they going to make it work with her being at school? And do they move in together, or does he move here? Does she even want that, does she even want to have his kids? He can't help but feel guilty. He thinks of how hard she was crying earlier, how upset she was, and he definitely doesn't want to be the cause of that. Yet he is, because this was his doing, too. And all of a sudden he's apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah. I'm sorry. I know you didn't ask for this, and I know it hurts and-fuck-I'm just so sorry." He's crying, and she's been crying. Any other time and they would be laughing over the absurdity of them holding each other on the floor in the middle of her dorm room on a Thursday, and they probably will laugh about it. Maybe even sooner rather than later. But for right now, they let themselves be afraid. They allow themselves to grieve the plans, and futures they had in mind. Because even if they don't keep this baby (which John B thinks is highly unlikely, but he'll support her in whatever she decides) their relationship has changed. There will always be a before, and an after. This is the catalyst, the moment that it all changes. And for right now, they let themselves feel every part of it. 

[vs-redemption]

This is the fourth piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content might not be suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Song Piece (Tooru Oikawa x Reader)

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Song: Case Of The Ex - Mya I'm old, just like this song, so I apologize if you don't know it. I provided a link if you wanna check out the song/video.

It took a certain kind of person to date a guy like Tooru Oikawa. It wasn’t for the faint hearted for sure. First of all, you had to be fine with long absences since he traveled so much for work. If he wasn’t off competing against the best teams in the world, he was spending an absurd amount of time in training camps and practices. His career as a pro volleyball player alone would put strain on any relationship but the obstacles didn’t end there. Oikawa was more than just an incredible athlete. He was also known for being one of the most attractive male sports stars on the planet. He had a huge female fan base and had appeared on a disturbing number of magazine covers for his looks alone. Anyone who dated him would have to share his attention with every single other person who thought they might have a chance with the devilishly handsome man. It would take someone awfully secure in themselves to withstand pressure like that constantly looming over them.

“Hey cutie! Can I buy you a drink?”

The first time you met Oikawa was unfortunately during a bar crawl for a friend’s birthday. It wasn’t the type of thing you’d normally participate in, but you endured it this time because of the special occasion. You were already at your third stop of the night and ready to go home when a ridiculously tall, obnoxiously attractive man appeared next to you.

“I think you already did,” you tell him while holding up the glass in your hand. “Wasn’t it you and your buddies that bought a round for my friend’s birthday?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago,” he tilts his head curiously at you. “Don’t you need another by now?”

“I’m pacing myself,” you tell him flatly. “Thank you though.”

“I’m Tooru Oikawa,” he smiles and spreads his arms, lifting his chin proudly and reminding you of a peacock showing off and you laugh.

“I know.”

As the night dragged on, you continued chatting with the famous volleyball player as your friends continued with their shenanigans. You could admit that conversation with Oikawa was easy, and he definitely made the night more interesting. He was cute and charming, not to mention rich and famous, but you knew you didn’t have the energy to get involved with someone like that in any capacity. You allowed yourself some light banter, figuring he could just move on to flirting with someone else once you parted ways.

“How about a date?” he asks you once your friend signals you that it was time to head to the next stop of the night.

“I don’t date pretty boys.” You reply apologetically, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“How about meeting for coffee as friends?” he quips without any hesitation.

“Are you serious?” You ask and he nods while pulling his phone out from his pocket. You shake your head, pushing his phone away with a mischievous smile on your face. “I’ll tell you the time and place,” you tell him. “If you actually show up, then I’ll give you my number.”

What you hadn’t known was that Tooru Oikawa was persistent when he knew what he wanted. Not only did he show up to the designated place on time, but he also kept the conversation light and friendly since you’d been adamant about it not being a date. As promised, you exchanged numbers and saw no reason to refuse when he asked to meet up again soon.

Oikawa wasted no time in integrating himself into your daily life. At first, having regular correspondence with him made it easy to forget his celebrity status. He never acted like the hot playboy he was made out to be in the media. He never seemed too proud to send you goofy selfies of himself, or tell you about something embarrassing that had happened to him in one of his practices. When he was too busy to meet you in person, he scheduled time to do video calls. It surprised you that he never seemed to lose interest. The way he took his time to let you really get to know him and build up a mutual trust made it difficult to say no the next time he asked you on an actual date.

“I know my volleyball is going to make things tough,” he’d admitted from the very start, and you respected that he could acknowledge that. The first step in overcoming the hurdle was admitting it existed in the first place. He was more than willing to talk and compromise as much as you needed though, continuing to make you feel better about entering into a relationship with him. After all, despite your efforts to remain rational, you’d ended up falling head over heels for the idiot.

Being with Oikawa was too good to be true. You’d known going into the relationship how busy he was, and although you were fine being on your own sometimes, he still made sure you never felt neglected. Hardly a day went by without at least a phone call since he claimed that going to bed without hearing your voice was impossible for him. He was so cheesy sometimes, but you appreciated his transparency. Even dealing with his popularity turned out to be less of a problem than you’d imagined. Seeing all the comments and likes on his posts never made you feel jealous. In fact, it made you happy to see your boyfriend getting the amount of love and attention you knew he deserved. He never made a big deal about it and did everything in his power to make sure you knew he only had eyes for you.

“Good night, my love!” He smiles and pulls your face into his hands, pressing a kiss to your mouth before yawning and snuggling into the blankets next to you.

“Night, pretty boy,” you reply with a teasing smile that makes him pout. “Stop,” you poke his cheek, “You know I love you.”

“Mm,” he hums happily. “Love you too.”

Sometimes it still blew your mind knowing Tooru Oikawa was your boyfriend, but as you curled up next to him and slowly drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t imagine anyone else making you feel as happy or as loved as he could.

“Do you understand what time it is?” The sound of Oikawa’s voice pulled you back from the depths of sleep and you blink your eyes tiredly, the numbers on your alarm clock coming into focus and revealing that it was still the middle of the night. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was clearly on the phone with someone, and before you could roll over and ask him if everything was okay, you hear him whisper the caller’s name. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach, knowing right away who he was talking to. When you’d finally decided to give your heart to Oikawa, you’d thought you’d taken everything into account. His career. His fame. His fans. For some reason it had never occurred to you to worry about his exes.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You could tell Oikawa felt awkward by the tone of his voice. “Do you really think I’m the right person to talk to though? We’re not together anymore.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm yourself. He’d never given you a reason not to trust him before, and it wasn’t his fault if his ex was calling him in the middle of the night. Oikawa had told you about them before though, and you couldn’t help the memories that sprung up from those conversations. You knew how much they’d meant to him, and how they’d hurt him when they left, giving him an ultimatum between their relationship and his volleyball career. It had made you mad to hear about that. Loving Oikawa meant accepting all of him, including his love for volleyball, and you could never imagine asking him to give it up for you. Still, if even a hint of his feelings for his ex still existed inside him, who knew what talking to them again might mean for you.

“I can’t do this right now,” Oikawa’s tone was getting impatient. “I don’t know. Maybe. Fine. Goodnight.” You hear him set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a sigh. After a moment, he lays back down and tries to get comfortable.

“Tooru?” you whisper.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you listen for any hints of guilt or panic in his voice. “Did you hear all that?”

“Kind of,” you weren’t going to lie.

“I shouldn’t have even answered,” he admits softly while snaking an arm around your waist. “It’s just been so long and I was surprised.”

“Is everything all right?” you ask.

“I guess so,” his words come out muffled against your back. “Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” You wanted to ask him if you had anything to worry about, and if he planned on getting in touch with them again. You had so many questions that you knew were rooted in insecurity, so you held back from asking so as not to insult the trust you’d built up over your time together. You’d handled every other obstacle in your relationship so far, so hopefully this one wouldn’t cause too much disruption either. At the end of the day, it was up to Oikawa to choose who he wanted by his side. And until he gave you a reason to believe otherwise, you decided to just be thankful that, for the moment, that person seemed to be you.

[rein-ette]

A cleaner version of my previous ask 😅

Engport, babysitting (catsitting, plantsitting etc) or fire, please?

Oooookayyyy, so. I wrote...something. It's for the engport + fire prompt, but if I'm going to be completely honest it doesn't have anything that much to do with fire, though I swear I did come up with it because I was thinking about things related to fire. And this first part of it doesn't have much engport either, though there's certainly a lot of Port. It does have a cute small animal in it, if that's any consolation.

I do also have another idea for plantsitting, so I might write that at some point, but I didn't want to keep you waiting much longer so -- please accept my apologies and this fic that I can almost guarantee is not what you thought it was going to be.

Warnings: abuse of Greek mythology and one scene from Spirited Away. Also skulls. One skull. And I guess, death? But not really.

The realm of the dead was turning out to be a lot less crowded than Gabriel had expected. Since many mortals died every day, he had imagined that the banks of the river Styx would be crowded with souls, screaming or writhing or whatever spirits did in agony as they waited for their passage to the Underworld. Instead, Gabriel stood alone on what appeared to be a train platform, in the middle of a river so still he could easily see his own reflection in it, and so wide it might as well have been an ocean. Gabriel only knew it was a river because he could sense that the water was drawn to him like a curious child to pretty flower, responding to his immortal parentage. Unconsciously, Gabriel flexed his fingers and wondered if the steaming waters of the Styx would listen to him if he tried to command it. Probably not, and seeing as he was going to be knocking on the door of her master momentarily, Gabriel did not want to be introduced as that nephew who had angered the Goddess of Hatred the moment he had woken up in the Underworld.

Fat lot of good his powers had done him anyways, since he had died at sea.

Hadn't mother always told him the Oceanids were bad shit?

Sighing, Gabriel looked around again at his surroundings. He realized with no small amount of surprise that, while he had just been alone, now several shadowy figures stood with him on the platform, the edges of their figures melting in and out in the thick fog that rose from the waters around them. He tried to examine their faces to see if any of them were the spirits of his crewmates, but whenever he thought he could make out a feature their faces dissolved back into the fog. Exasperated, Gabriel glanced back at the river, noting with another jolt of surprise that now he could see the dark outline of a set of train tracks beside the platform, about half a meter underwater and stretching away into the blackness. Not long after he registered that, he heard the rumble of a train in the distance.

I suppose that's my ride, he thought to himself. The old myths said that Chiron ferried people on a boat across the Styx, but apparently the Industrial Revolution had come to the Underworld as well. Snorting at the thought, he dug in his pocket for his gold coin, which any good sailor always kept in case the ever-capricious ocean claimed them — even semi-immortal sons of river goddesses. Clearly, this was a good habit, because being semi-immortal had not saved Gabriel from that torpedo, which had reduced his poor ship to a lump of floating scrap metal before Gabriel could call up enough power to fill a water bottle, and, oh, all those poor soldier boys who would now never get a chance to die in a gruesome war and fulfill their heroic fates —

Gabriel could not find his coin. Frowning, he searched the front pockets of his admiral's tunic as well, even though he knew he had not kept it there. When that yielded nothing, he moved on to his back pant pockets, then his boots. For the first time since he had drowned in the icy cold Atlantic (which, admittedly, was not that long ago), Gabriel felt a shiver of true panic run through him. How would he board the train without his coin? How would he enter the Underworld? How would he join the ranks of the heroes in the Elysian Fields, where he belonged? Had he perhaps lost his coin when he had rushed to the railings to survey the damage on deck and was promptly dropped into the roaring Atlantic when a stray bit of flak from the exploding engine room tore clean through his right leg?

Now that he thought about it, that seemed likely.

At least he’d gotten his leg back.

The train slid to a rippling stop into front of him. With a soft swoosh, the doors opened, and Gabriel found himself staring at a man who, despite his smart train conductors uniform, could not have been anyone but Chiron, given that his face was a gleaming skull and his eyes literally balls of hellfire. It seemed the god had tried to update his aesthetic for the 20th century as well.

Chiron proffered to him a small wooden box, in which Gabriel could see several gold coins. Desperately digging through his pockets one last time, he finally shook his head. "I’m sorry, I don’t have the fare, I —"

The doors slid closed in his face, and immediately the train began to pull away.

Muttering a few choice curses, Gabriel stumbled a step away from the edge of the platform and watched as the train picked up speed and swooped away into the darkness.

Somehow, he doubted it would be returning to this station.

In the ensueing silence, Gabriel weighed his options. He could sit on this platform and mope, possibly for eternity. He could jump in the river and hope that his aunt either saved him or tore his soul into shreds from the agony. He could try walking along the rails in the direction the train had left, also possibly for the rest of eternity, in the hopes of reaching the entrance to the Underworld eventually.

Gabriel took off his shoes and chose the last option, despite feeling that sulking for the rest of eternity held a certain amount of appeal. He was very good at sulking. Nevertheless, he waded into the water at the end of the platform and found immediately that Hatred was lukewarm, not freezing cold like he had imagined — a nasty, suffocating lukewarm which swirled thickly around his thighs with the collected resentment, broken promises, lurid thoughts and heavens knew what else of millions of miserable souls.

He had feared the water might send him immediately into convulsions of unbearable pain or suck his consciousness right out of him, but as he continued along the track nothing remarkable occured. Perhaps the Styx had sensed his godly parentage and was protecting its kin. Or perhaps Gabriel had collected so much resentment in his long life that the river didn't even recognize him as a foreign body. Whatever the case, Gabriel held his shoes gingerly in one hand and sloshed on.

Quickly, he lost all sense of time, distance, or direction. It felt like he had barely taken two steps before the platform he left was swallowed by the fog, and the tracks underneath his feet curved and meandered like a small stream itself, without rhyme or reason. Gabriel realized that even if the water had not immediately destroyed him, he could not walk forever, and when he finally collapsed from exhaustion he would either be eaten by whatever dwelled in this wretched river or drown over and over in its depths until it dissolved him like a piece of wet toilet paper.

Still, he could not turn back. There was no hope even if he managed to return to the platform, and while a lesser man might have cowered in fear on dry land anyways, Gabriel had spent most of his twenty one centuries of life fighting and wandering across the oceans anyways. Wading through an infernal river until even his immortal soul crumbled into the waves — it seemed somehow like a fitting end.

To distract himself from his happy thoughts, he began to sing. At times it was just a wordless tune, but when he felt inspiration hit he added lyrics. He sang of his birth on the sun-kissed banks of the Douro, the eldest son of its beautiful immortal gaurdian and a local Roman nobleman. He sang of his siblings, not all of whom had inherited his mother's immortality, and he sang in particular of the one brother who did and accompanied him through the aching, bittersweet years that followed. He sang of the lands he had travelled, some bursting with life and colour, others stunning in their harsh, barren beauty. He sang of his lovers, the princes and the ladies, the soldiers and the nymphs and the humble farmhands whom he had courted, bed, and occasionally wed — but never to last, for mortal lives were but a flicker in the endless night and even the immortal ones could not tether down his heart for long. The stars called him, the waves called him, and Gabriel always, always answered.

He suppposed now, though, he had finally found his last resting place.

This thought was immediately followed by a less melancholic one: I didn't know polecats could swim.

Gabriel stopped singing and instead stood and watched as the little furry animal approached, paws paddling furiously as it slipped through the water. It stopped when it neared him and splashed around for a bit, before lifting its snout and looking pointedly at Gabriel, its dark eyes gleaming and intelligent.

Gabriel hadn't known that polecats could give pointed looks, either.

He cupped his hands and extended them to the animal, which immediately scrambled on and promptly snuggled up in his palms, curling into a little content ball. Unable to hold back a smile, he stroked its slick, midnight fur with a thumb, marvelling at how soft and warm it was and how docile it seemed.

Well, he thought, at least I still sing well enough to seduce a polecat.

"You've seduced more than just a polecat, that's for sure," someone muttered.

-- part 2 is here --