#and it's not my job to bend over backwards to keep him from experiencing the natural consequences of his actions.

[melancholic-pigeon]

Okay this is the *actual* last comment, for real, but I just found out Spider is now smearing me as a convert and accusing me of being involved with drama I was not involved with because he mistakenly attributed my apologies for his public temper tantrum as being about something unrelated.

THIS IS A FALSE ACCUSATION and I do not appreciate having yet another bit of fake malicious intent falsely ascribed to my actions and* attributing a completely unrelated attack to me.

Also, it's very sad and disappointing whenever a Jew gets mad at a convert because something else is going on in the Jew's life and the convert happens to be in the splash zone and the Jew falls over backwards to smear the convert and invalidate her faith.

Just....the childish aggression is making me so, so sad and disappointed, from someone I used to think very highly of, who is now lying about me and publicly smearing me with false accusations based on a conflict he started because he misinterpreted something I said and I went out of my way to give him the benefit of the doubt when trying to clear up the mistake HE MADE that led him to decide bullying and attacking me for three fucking days was appropriate and okay and that I'm the bad guy for saying it's wildly unprofessional to behave like this in public to a former customer face.

Sorry, but facts, reality, linear time and the truth of what I actually said and did are on my side here, and I will not stand for being smeared and attacked and shat all over because I had the gall to try to kindly resolve his uncalled for, unjustified temper tantrum.

I am also not sorry that I left a side note in the tags that it was also unacceptable for HIM to drag his daughter into a stupid internet slapfight based on his own reading comprehension failure. Because it was and is unacceptable, and she needs to hear that message from someone.

End of story. Keep digging that hole as long as you like, Spider. It's not helping your case and is continuing to make you look progressively worse and more unreasonable, and the only person you have to blame is yourself.

*revised for clarity

[fox-buried-in-maple-leaves]

1 - 5 from this one :D

Heiden time~

Ask Game

utc cause it got long again...

1. How does your OC make ends meet? What do they do for a living? How is their occupation viewed in the social context they’re in? Does it come with social prestige or financial comfort, and are these two things aligned in the society you’re writing, or are they separate metrics?

Heiden is a broke bitch through and THROUGH. He does menial odd jobs in every town he finds himself in just to be able to afford whatever he might need. Luckily he doesn't actually need a bed to sleep in or food to eat. Occasionally a weary traveler will give him something in return for his helping them.

Nobody knows who the fuck this guy is and honestly Heiden wants to keep it that way. He knows people who are known and WOW! They are experiencing the horrors. Anyways. 2. How does your OC communicate? Are they monolingual or multilingual? What is the linguistic environment they’re in? If they’re monolingual, is there a social penalty for only speaking one language, or is it the norm? If they’re multilingual, which of their languages or sociolects has the most/least prestige? Is there a separation between written and oral forms of the language? Can your OC blend in or does their language mark them in some way? What are their levels of fluency, and how do they feel about them?

He is multilingual! Pretty much every character is because I said so. Anyways his native tongue is Icelandic. He also speaks English and French fluently. He then speaks a handful more languages at an A2-B1 level. Norwegian, Russian, Ukrainian, Spanish, and Mandarin are among those. Heiden's accent isn't super noticeable, most likely because of how much he's travelled around the world. But some words you can hear it SOO clearly, it's really cute.

Heiden loves learning languages, it's one of his hobbies. :)

Take the screencap from my answer for Ajax about the linguistic society:

3. What is your OC’s concept of social debt? What constitutes a sense of social obligation for your character? Is it based on individual feelings or collective principles? What do they do when they feel like they owe someone? Are they likely to default on a social obligation, or repay it? What are the costs of either approach in the society you’re writing?

"Honour bound" is a great way to describe Heiden. Despite his sour outlook on humanity and the world and how meaningless he finds everything. Heiden... will almost always repay a social debt. He feels an obligation to do so.

However, he won't allow anybody to use him as a doormat. He has no issue if the other breaks their side of his honour code.

Ultimately, Heiden is a very loyal person. And he will bend over backwards for those he cares about or those he senses a kindness in. Most others will get his minimum respect until they no longer deserve it. 4. What does it take for your OC to consider someone a friend? What constitutes friendship in the society you’re writing, what expectations does it come with, and how does your OC fit into that structure of expectations? Do they make friends easily or do they struggle? How intimate is a friendship for them, and what does it include?

Heiden finds it notoriously difficult to make real friends. He has a lot of people he knows, not quite acquaintances, but people he's aware of who are aware of him. He's more a loner, he spends most of his time alone if he can manage it.

It isn't that he doesn't want friends, he just doesn't want friends :D

That being said, Heiden is easily swayed by.. persistent kind people. He's a guardian through and through, and some people are just, worth protecting. That or be immensely interesting and/or fucked up. Then his interest is piqued and he might befriend them to see how they'll fuck up their life next.

Anyways he's kind of awkward with friendships, he doesn't know the lines very well. But he's incredibly respectful of boundaries so, it's fine.

5. What does it take for your OC to consider someone kin? What constitutes kinship in the society you’re writing, and how does your OC relate to that set of cultural expectations? Is kinship defined only by blood, or through other forms of social intimacy? Are there symbolic gestures that might establish a kin-like relation? What is family for your OC?

He doesn't remember what his home's idea of kinship or family was. It has been far too long for that. Heiden isn't sure what family is, what kin is. This feels a bit like a cop out answer, but Heiden genuinely just isn't sure.

He hasn't been faced with this situation, there's nobody he considers kin or family.

[lomlwintersoldier]

Break Me Down II

Masterlist | Part 1

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: oof more sexual tension, mechanic!bucky

A/N: i wrote this over and over again and i realized it wasn’t working because I was trying to fit it al into 2 parts sooo....there will be a third part to tie all this up <3 

Since that day in the gym with you, Bucky can’t seem to get you out of his head. He finds that when he turns a corner, a part of him hopes he’ll run into you, to repeat the fleeting moments he’d had with you before. When he enters a room, his heart jumps in the half second it takes to find you, and when his eyes do land on you, it’s like he can hardly breathe. You’ve gotten under his skin and all the denial he felt previously about his feelings for you had disappeared. Your smile, your laughter, your darkening eyes when you're serious, and the way you look at him...he could bask in your stare forever. 

But, he can’t let on his feelings to you just yet so instead he chooses to work on the 1965 Ford Mustang that’s been sitting in his garage for weeks. He missed getting his hands greasy while he was dating Serena, she’d typically preferred when he focused all his energy on her so his own interests, such as fixing up “vintage” cars (seriously, he was older than this car by like 30 years) took a backseat. 

He heads down to the old, leftover garage at the back of the compound where he kept his beauty away from Tony’s Lamborghinis, Ferraris, and Porsches knowing the billionaire would make fun of him for having a relatively cheap and ordinary car. 

It’s pleasant to be out in the sun, working on his car, bathing in the summer heat as a light breeze blows through him every few minutes; it reminds him of the times he’d worked on various cars back in the day. Modern cars were so different from the old clunkers he used to fix up so it was a learning curve, but it wasn’t long before he fell into his rhythm and the hours passed like minutes.

It’s mid afternoon by the time he realizes he’s stuck on one of the final parts of the job. His hands, albeit expert and surprisingly delicate, were too big to get to the parts he needed deep in the hood of the car, and he sighs in frustration. He leans over the hood, hands gripping either side as he chews on the toothpick in his mouth quizzically.

Then, he has a wonderful idea.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Barnes is requesting your presence in the garage.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice booms over the intercom, startling you from the book you were reading. 

“What? What does he need me for?” You inquire intently as you sit up on the couch, pushing the throw blanket that enveloped you away from your heated skin. 

“He simply requested your help. The task is undetermined,” her feminine yet robotic voice replies. 

Your heart jumps a bit although you can’t fathom what he could need your help with. Following that day in the gym, you’d found yourself holding your breath whenever you passed the common room, the kitchen, his room, just hoping that you could get a glimpse of him. You wanted his hands on you, to breathe his air, to look into those eyes again. 

And it appears you now have that opportunity.

The walk down to the garages feels endless and you find yourself walking quickly, too quickly. You didn’t want to seem as eager as your speed would show so you slow down to a snail's pace until finally, you reach the side of the compound you’re sure you’ll find him in.

You see him before he sees you and...damn. Does he look enticing. 

His back faces towards you as he bends over the hood of the vintage red car he’s working on, the white tank top he’s wearing gloriously displaying the black and gold arm the Wakandan’s gave him. Sweat glints on the exposed skin and you resist the urge to bit your lip. When he turns, a wide smile crosses his face and you suddenly feel like your cheeks are on fire. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky calls out to you as you stride over. “Think you can help me sus out this problem with the engine?” 

You look at him quizzically as you plant your hands on your hips, glancing at the cherry red car before you. “I don’t really know anything about cars…” 

He grins, straightening up as he wipes his grease-covered hands on the towel he has tucked in the waistband of his jeans. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to.” 

“I just need your hands,” he holds his flesh hand out for you, daring you to take it with a smirk on his face. 

“Come on, doll,” he laughs. “It’s not hard.”

You roll your eyes before placing your hand in his. Gently leading you by the hand to the front of the car, Bucky points at the mess of black parts that rest under the rather simplistic hood. “There's a part under here,” he gestures towards the left side of the car, “that I can’t get to. Hand’s too big.” He raises his large metal hand and wiggles his fingers playfully. A surprised laugh escapes your lips. “This is what you asked me to come out here for?” You ask incredulously.  “Do you know how far this place is from the main building?”

“You have small hands,” he chuckles as he takes your hand and presses his palm to yours, spreading your fingers to match his and he’s right. Your hands are far smaller than his.

But now, hand pressed to his, you're abruptly aware of his presence, of his large and imposing body that towers over you as he stares intently into your eyes. Locks of his dark hair have fallen out of his bun and frame his face, the strands so close to tickling your cheek. Your eyes drop to his lips and you think, I could just….he’s right here….

“We should fix this car,” you exclaim, breaking both of you out of the moment as you drop your hand from his. You spin away leaning both your hands on the car, focusing very hard on the engine in front of you. 

You can practically hear the smile in Bucky’s voice when he says, “alright doll, I need you to wiggle those pretty little fingers down...here.” 

He places your hand over where he wants you to go as he rests his other hand on your hip. Trying to not be too distracted by his touch, you follow his instructions, reaching through the tight crevice he was unable to worm his digits between. 

“Now take...this,” Bucky murmurs against your ear as he presses his chest to your back, handing you a part with the hand that just moments ago rested on your waist. He smells of sandalwood and cypress, a deliciously intoxicating aroma that is just wholeheartedly Bucky.

As you work, you realize you no longer have autonomy over your limbs. Your hands have become his as if you’re a marionette and he, the expert puppeteer. He guides you through the process, never letting your body move more than a few inches away from his as you listen intently to everything he whispers to you. 

As you connect the last part, you circle around to face him, parting yourself from his chest. In response, he leans forward, practically caging you in against the car. Breaths intermingle, hearts beat faster. 

Fuck it, you think. 

Without stopping to contemplate the choice you’re about to make, you lean up onto your toes, connecting your lips to his with a fervor that initially catches him off guard, but he quickly sinks into your kiss, his scorching hands falling to your waist as he pulls you against him. His tongue forces its way into your mouth as you entangle your fingers in his hair, almost pulling it as you fight for dominance. 

This kiss is filled with all the tension you’ve felt over the last couple of weeks, a desperate result of the stolen glances and held breaths in each others presences. So close and so far at the same time but now, in this moment, there is only the two of you, existing in perfect sync as you ride out this impatient longing together. 

When you finally pull away, you’re out of breath, but you leave your arms tangled around his neck as his drop to your hips, resting lowly enough that his fingers graze your ass.

“What was that?” He laughs as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

“You were getting too cocky,” you smirk as you push away from him, beginning to strut away the same way he did with you all those days before but you’re suddenly yanked back by the hand. Faster than you can react, he's got you enveloped in his arms and he’s walking you backwards until your back hits the cold cement wall of the garage.

“What’re you-” Bucky cuts your words off by crashing his lips to yours. 

While the kiss was passionate before, there’s suddenly a need, an urgent craving that you can practically feel brewing beneath his skin, a hunger so deep you’re unsure you can satisfy him. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, keeping you so tightly pressed against him that you’re almost certain no one else exists, it’s Bucky, it’s just Bucky. All of him is almost overwhelming. This kiss is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, it sets your body on fire, ignites electricity in your veins and leaves you frantically reaching for more.  

“Was I, doll?” He murmurs heatedly against your lips. “Was I too cocky for you?” 

His hips dig into yours and you tear your face from his, breathless and gasping for air. He wastes no time in moving to your neck, sucking and kissing and biting, earning your quiet moans as he gyrates his pelvis to yours. Your legs have gone weak and the only thing keeping you standing is his waist pressed between your legs.

“Bucky!” You exclaim when he bites the sensitive skin just above your collarbones particularly hard. He takes your cry as a signal to move back up to your lips, giving you one last, harsh kiss before pulling away. 

But this time he doesn’t walk away. He keeps you pressed forcefully against him, the fiery heat between the two of you voraciously palpable as both of you try to catch your breath. 

“Come up to my room,” you breathe as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. His eyes fix on yours, his brow furrowing as your lips part in hunger, wanting more, wanting him. 

“You sure you want that, baby?” His right, flesh hand cups your cheek and you see a tinge of real concern in his eyes, despite the bravado in his voice.

Instead of responding, you lean up and gently bite the soft skin of his neck, earning a groan from his delicious mouth. 

“More than I’ve ever been.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Part: Coming soon! <3

Add yourself to my taglist! | Send requests | Always open to feedback! |

Tags: @miss-i-ship-it @bookieworm @jessysfangirlworld @folkly @hellodeannaphillips @peterspickles @avengersfury @cinna-minseok @bubblegumfanfics @miss-i-ship-it @variouslyalloya @kaitlynisinfinite​ @morganayenneferburnham @mysticperfectionsweets​  @tillystark

[jungshookz]

yoongi comes home late & y/n’s fast asleep

➺ starring; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; the ever-so-elusive sugardaddy!yoongi who was supposed to have his own fic in 2018 but he never ended up getting one because i moved on!!! fluff!! smerhaps/smaybe/smalmost smut (slightly suggestive themes)!! also because this is sugardaddy!yoongi the drabble is slightly cliché/2012 wattpad-y but it is what it is 

➺ wordcount; 1.6k

➺ summary; a groggy yoongi comes home late from work and is pleasantly surprised by what he’s been greeted with. 

➺ what to expect; “this is cute. i’ve never seen you in pastel purple before.”

                                     »»————-　💜　————-««

the first thing that yoongi sees upon his arrival home is you fast asleep on the couch wearing nothing but a lavender silk robe and what he’s safely assuming to be a pretty pretty pair of matching bra and panties underneath (you’re sleeping on your stomach but the robe obviously rode up while you were asleep so the end of it is sitting scrunched up on your lower back)

and he knows this is supposed to be a sexy situation and all, but the fact that you’ve dozed off with one arm and one leg hanging off the couch just makes you look...

“cute.” yoongi murmurs to himself as he bites back a fond smile, bending down to take his shoes off quietly so that he doesn’t accidentally wake you up 

he had to leave after dinner because there was some emergency at work that apparently couldn’t wait until tomorrow and before he left he promised you that he’d be back as soon as he could... 

with that being said, it’s half past midnight which is definitely mucH later than he thought he’d be back

he takes his suit jacket off slowly as he makes his way over to you, gently folding it and resting it over the top of the couch

hm

if you’d fallen asleep on your back then it’d be easy for him to scoop you up... so he’s not sure how he’s going to approach this... 

yoongi clears his throat quietly as he unbuttons his sleeves before rolling each one up his forearms 

maybe if he moves really slowly, you won’t wake up?

the feeling of the couch dipping down slightly from under you is what rouses you awake 

your eyelids flutter as you regain consciousness and you feel your heart skip a beat in excitement when you recognize the scent of yoongi’s cologne lingering in the air 

you’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep for but it must’ve been a while because you can feel a slight indentation of your bracelet printed onto your right cheek anD there’s a faint patch of drool on the couch that you’re hoping yoongi won’t notice 

you didn’t mean to fall asleep but the couch is just so comfortable that you managed to convince yourself to take a little nap while waiting for yoongi to come back 

you were only supposed to be asleep for half an hour - you set an alarm on your phone and everything! - but you’re pretty sure the sun was still setting when you said that and now it’s pitch black outside 

admittedly, you were a little bummed out when yoongi told you he had to leave for a while but you understand that he has an important job and that he’s a fairly busy man 

on the bright side, him leaving left you with a good amount of time to a) wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen a little (even though yoongi’s told you multiple times that you don’t have to) b) catch up on some readings that are due for your classes, and c) change out of your grubby clothes and into the lingerie set you’d been hiding from him for a whole month (!!) 

(you’re pretty sure he’s probably seen the order being charged to his credit card but he hasn’t said anything about it.)

“hi, sleepy.” yoongi coos quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to to the back of your shoulder, “sorry i woke you up. have you been here all night?”

“yeah…” you hum, voice slightly raspy with sleep, “i was going to nap in the bedroom but i wanted to be here when you got back.”

“i’m sorry, baby…” yoongi shuffles closer, sliding his hand down the curve of your back before giving your bum a light squeeze, “if it makes you feel any better, i’m definitely a big fan of what you’re wearing.”

“really?” you roll yourself around before propping yourself up onto your elbows, not missing the way yoongi’s eyes flicker down to your chest for a brief second, “the robe’s a little wrinkly now, but…” you lift your leg up a little so that the slit of the robe parts around your thigh and yoongi glances down in interest    

“this is cute.” he comments, hooking a finger under one of the garters around your thigh before tugging at it gently, “i’ve never seen you in pastel purple before.” 

“yeah, i-” you find yourself blushing (though yoongi hasn’t even said anything to make your cheeks pink) as you reach down to pull one of your stockings up a little higher, “i thought maybe it’d be nice to try something different… i know you usually like black, but… well, i- i actually bought this set in black as a back-up, if you... if you want me to change...” you find your voice lowering when you notice yoongi leaning in and you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before he’s pressing his lips against yours 

!

yoongi can’t help but chuckle when you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, practically shooting straight up from the couch before beginning to paw at his shirt 

you manage to loosen his tie slightly before he loops an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him

your stomach flutters at the prospect of finally getting to spend some alone time with yoongi

you’ve been swamped for the last month or so because of midterms and essays and presentations and countless readings so when yoongi asked you if you wanted to stay at his place over the weekend you basically jumped at the chance 

he’s usually the one who stays at your apartment so it’s nice to switch things up!

plus, yoongi has one of those fancy rainfall shower heads in his bathroom so that’s a definite bonus 

all of a sudden, the little voice in your head whispers for you to get up and onto yoongi’s lap- but because good things never last, he pulls away from the kiss far too soon for your liking and you resist the urge to get up and just tackle him to the ground 

he was gone for like!!! five hours!!! 

“i wanna-” you pause as you try to figure out how to word exactly what you’re feeling without sounding like a moron, “i wanna keep... like, kissing you... and stuff...”

well 

nice effort 

sometimes you wish you were more experienced so that you could be the sex kitten yoongi probably imagines you as but yoongi insists that it doesn’t matter to him 

it’s just embarrassing sometimes when you try to sound sexy but you end up sounding like a robot that’s just churning out sexy words 

you know he’s been with others before who are far more experienced with this part of the job so you can’t help but feel a little insecure when you get all bleep bloop I Want To Kiss You And Stuff bleep bloop 

“and stuff, hm?” yoongi teases, leaning in to give you a quick kiss before getting up from the couch and reaching over to grab his suit jacket, “i actually do want you to change- into your pyjamas. because you have an early class tomorrow and we can’t have you falling asleep in the middle of it. now, c’mon-”

“wha- hey, hold on-” you immediately get up from the couch when yoongi turns away and walks off, quickening your pace when he switches the main foyer lights off and disappears into the hallway, “yoongi-!”

“come on, i’ll let you choose another shirt you’re probably going to end up stealing from me-”

“woah, woaH-!” you finally catch up to him, your stockings gliding against the smooth marble of the floor as you slide around so that you’re standing in front of him, “what do you think you’re doing??”

“can i help you, miss?” yoongi grins when you slink your arms around his neck and press your body against his, “i’m going to get ready for bed, that’s what i’m doing. what do you think you’re doing?” 

“i don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” you whine pitifully as you slide a hand down so you can fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt, “you’ve been gone all night…”

“oh, don’t pout like that.” yoongi coos, reaching up to cup your cheek before using his thumb to pluck at your pushed-out bottom lip, “you had me all day yesterday, you know. i had to bump one of my meetings to next week because of you.”

“yeah, but i wasn’t wearing this yesterday-” you pull back for a second to gesture to yourself exaggeratedly, “you’re a good businessman. we should compromise!”

“alright, alright-” yoongi laughs lightly and reaches forward so he can pull you back towards him, “name your price, boss.”

“let me join you in the shower.” you grin, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, “and then i promise i’ll go to sleep right after.” 

“hm, i don’t know…” yoongi teases, undoing your robe before sliding his warm hands underneath it so he can cup your hips, “i feel like we’d end up doing a lot more than just shower together if i let you join me...”

“would that be so wrong?” you ask innocently as you look up at him with doe eyes, yoongi giving your hips a squeeze as he walks you backwards and towards the bedroom, “we’d save water by showering together!” 

“‘showers’ with you can last up to an hour. if anything, you’d be hiking up my water bill!”

“yeah, but you can afford it-” 

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

[asupernaturalgirl]

I’ll Always Be Here to Help You

Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

Request:  If you don’t mind, I wanna request maybe something like sam and the reader previously being lovers in the past but they separate and she becomes a lab rat for hydra or something like that, and he saves her and what not. Very cliche yet cute in my opinion. 🙂🙂❤️   @jeonsblackgf-writes

A/N: Hey, All! I have to admit, this one made me a bit nervous. This is my first Marvel One shot and I wanted it to be so good so I hope you all like it. Also, this is written in 3rd person, which is new for me in one shots so I hope you don’t mind.  

Warnings: torture, breakups, hydra stuff

H/C: Hair Color, S/C: Skin Color

There’s a moment when you’re watching something about to happen, something terrible, where you so badly want to turn your head, to avert your gaze, but something is still fixing it onto whatever is happening. Car crashes, accidents, injuries. You would never purposefully enjoy watching something so terrible, but your brain doesn’t make the connection between something about to happen and needing to shield yourself from it. 

That was exactly how Sam Wilson felt as he watched the screen in front of him. He wanted so badly to turn, to leave the room. Steve had even approached him to try to get him to leave, but some sick part of his brain wasn’t allowing him to even step a foot away. He watched as the sick criminals injected something into her skin. Her skin. It was so grey, so much paler than her normal (S/C) tone. Bruises and bloody injuries lined nearly every part of her body. 

Her (H/C) hair, which he had loved so much, was matted and dirty. It was so unlike you, so rare for you to be so weak, so hurt, that he almost didn’t recognize you at first. It was her screams of pain, her desperate pleading that brought him back to reality and allowed it to actually sink into his brain. Hydra was using her as a lab rat. They had no plans to actually turn her into anything, they were just testing all of their materials on her. 

He hadn’t seen her in so long. If he had known she was in danger, if he had known that this would have happened, he would have done anything to make sure she was safe. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam sat down at the park bench, holding her hands tightly as he tried to explain the very thing he was dreading explaining to her. It was worse than he imagined. “I can’t force you to wait for me when I’m off god knows where, fighting in the Air Force.”

She turned her head. Sam Wilson, the man who meant everything to her, the man who she’d been with since she was in 10th grade, was breaking up with her to go into the military. He didn’t want her to have to forsake her health and life so that he could live his own. “Sam, I don’t care about where you’re going. I’ll go with you. There’s nothing keeping me here anymore.” 

He shook his head. People walking by looked over as the two of them spoke. Tears poured out of her eyes. She was still trying to keep from sobbing out loud, although she wasn’t sure how much longer that would actually last. 

“You need to live your own life,” He was strong with his statement. As a rescuer, his job would be dangerous and take up a considerable amount of time. “Even if you came with me, I wouldn’t be around much. I can’t drag you to some unknown location and then force you to stay there without any friends and family. This is for the best.”

Y/N didn’t want to even look at him. She turned your head slightly and crossed her arms. She felt like a child who wasn’t getting what they wanted. Sam meant everything to her and it hurt her that he was leaving without even giving her an option in the matter. 

“I love ya, sweetheart,” He ran his hand along her back, trying to comfort her. He hated when she cried and it hurt him even more that he was the one causing those tears. “I’ll come back and visit you when I get the chance.”

That had been the last time he spoke to Y/N. The last time he spoke to her before she was captured, he left her on a bench. The guilt began to spread in his chest at the thought. She must have been so terrified, so lost when Hydra captured her, and he wasn’t there to help. “We need to get her.”

Steve nodded his head. “Where do you know her from?”

Sam watched as she withered in the chair they had her strapped in, screaming for help. His chest constricted at the idea of Y/N in so much pain, the idea of someone hurting you like that. She had absolutely no business being there. “Her and I dated when we were in high school and a little bit before I joined the military. I broke up with her.” 

Steve’s face dropped. He had no idea that she had been so close to Sam. He knew that his friend must have been devastated. Moving forward, Cap placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’re gonna get her, Sam. I promise you.”

…

Sam was flying over the base, trying to find some weak point to enter through. It was easy to find the location. Because they had received the video via hacking, all they needed to do was look at the location codes. Rumors had been circulating about a Hydra base closeby, so once they had a general spot to look in, they found it rather quickly. 

“Sam, the third window to the left in the back looks unguarded,” Clint said through the earpiece. “Goes into a small closet. We did a quick X-Ray check and it seems there’s no one guarding that either.” 

“I’m goin’ in,” He said quickly, rerouting his position towards the back of the large base. He was surprised no one had found them yet. They were able to get into the base rather easily, which sent shivers up his spine. It was never this easy. 

Apparently, it was right to be worried. As soon as he broke through the window and closed his wings to begin walking through, three men immediately charged him. He dodged them quickly, throwing one into the wall as he kicked another in the face, knocking him out. The last charged forward with a knife held in hand, but he quickly grabbed the man’s arm, bending it backwards. The sound of a bone snapping echoed through the small closet and he screamed out slightly in pain. Sam quickly pushed him into a cabinet while his defenses were down and slipped out before he tried anything else. 

He walked carefully through the hallways, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he already did. He hoped that the three men were the only defenses they put up against him, but he seriously doubted that. 

The one thing that kept him going was thinking about Y/N. She deserved none of this and he would make sure she was safe before anything else. He pressed on the small bud in his ear. “I’m in. You see anything else?” 

“There’s a couple of guys fighting down here,” It was Natasha this time. “Steve and Clint are trying to hold them off while you’re down there. Try to get to her quickly.” 

“Well, it’d be a whole lot easier if I could see a damn thing down here,” He turned the corner, but could only see about 3 foot in front of him. The combination of dark walls and a lack of windows made it quite dark. “You’d think an organization that has been around for this long would have enough money to turn on some lights every once in a while.” 

“Ha Ha, Wilson,” Natasha said sarcastically. “Just find Y/N and get the hell out of there.” 

He went into overdrive mode. Occasionally, someone would pass by, almost completely oblivious to the fact that they had an enemy raiding the base at the moment. They were unprepared and by the time they realized they had to fight, Sam already had them on the ground. 

One room in particular stuck out to him. There was a breaker box right outside the door for electricity. This meant they likely needed quick access to the controls here. He was wary, unsure of what he may find inside. He prayed that if she was there, no one else would be. He needed to get her and leave as quickly as possible. 

He opened the door quickly, ready for a large fight. There she was. Y/N. She was sweating, but shivering at the same time. Her eyes were huge as she turned towards the door, caught off guard by the loud sound. He would never forget the expression of relief that crossed her face as soon as she saw him. 

There was a man frantically trying to undo her restraints, likely trying to evacuate her before Sam could get to her. He quickly rushed forward, tackling the man to the ground. He grabbed the man’s head, hitting it against the concrete floor until he was seemingly unconscious. Sam pried the key from the man’s hand and rushed to unlock them. 

“Sam, what are you...what are you doing here?” Y/N questioned. She was shocked. She had prayed that someone would help her, that someone would save her from the absolute misery she was experiencing. The person she expected was definitely not her ex boyfriend. 

“Found a video of you being used as a lab rat,” He started, moving to her legs now that her arms were free. “There was no way I was going to let you stay here. Can you walk?”

“I-I don’t think so,” She looked down at her hands. “I’ve been here for a few weeks so my legs are so weak.”

It hurt Sam almost physically that they hadn’t even let you out of the chair. As soon as you were completely unshackled, he leaned down and lifted you into his arms, quickly carrying you throughout the facility. 

This time, there was seemingly no one left to fight. He went through the same way that he came in, making sure he didn’t take a bad turn. Taking the wrong turn here could be the difference between life and death. Steve was waiting in the same closet he’d broken into, his eyes surprised as soon as he saw Sam come through the door with the girl in his arms. 

Steve helped Sam out and sprinted with them as they made their way back to the jet. He could feel his arms beginning to grow heavy but he knew he couldn’t let you go. You wouldn’t be able to walk by yourself. Your muscles were likely atrophied at this point. 

As soon as the team got the go ahead, they were taking off. A doctor had rushed forward to help Y/N, taking care of the most dramatic injuries first. He cleaned off a few deep wounds. “These likely needed stitches when they happened but they’re too old now. Stitching them would just cause the infection to be trapped inside.”

Sam watched as they worked, making sure that she wasn’t afraid. He felt the need to use comic relief, as he normally did, but refrained. It would likely be in bad taste at the current moment. After a few hours of poking and prodding, there was a few minutes where Y/N could just soak everything in. She had been rescued, saved from the most terrible people by Sam, her old love. 

Sam sat quietly on a chair next to the small gurney. He looked down at his hands but kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t need anything. “Thank you, Sam.”

He looked up, surprised by her words. Why would she ever think she needed to be thankful for him for this? He got her out of a situation that he wouldn’t have wished on anyone. “You could have just called me if you wanted my attention. You didn’t have to do all this.”

A grin crossed Y/N’s face. He was the same old Sam. Even though he was a superhero and looked quite different physically than he had before, he still had the same personality. “Yeah, I might have to think about that differently next time.”

Sam slowly walked towards you and grabbed your frail hands in his large ones, giving you a comforting squeeze. His eyes were sincere as he looked down at you. “I meant what I said when I saw you last, Y/N. I love you. Even though we haven’t seen each other in years, I’ll always be here to help you.” 

[irwinkitten]

feel like a monster | a.i

notes: told y’all i was writing again. i got inspired by ‘monster’ by skillet and it’s not the typical demon!ash we have seen previously. enjoy. Also I picture Lucifer being Tom Ellis’ from the tv series ‘Lucifer’. pairing: demon!ashton x witch!reader (genderless self-insert!)  warnings: violence, swearing word count: 3.2k

donate to my ko-fi? 

-

The first time you had met Ashton, he was fully unaware of your presence. 

Eyes as black as night had roamed the small haunt that the local supernaturals frequented, free of any kind of glamour to appeal to the human prey. Most of the locals knew better than to step out without the glamour on, especially demons, but Ashton had kept his on when he stepped through the door, even with the wash of protective magic you had placed on the building.

“What’ll it be, sugar?” You finally asked him, his eyes unseeing as he muttered the word ‘whiskey’. You never took offence, because sometimes the creatures you encountered needed the time to come to terms with something that happened. 

“On the house, don’t drown.” You commented, not even inciting a verbal response as you returned your attention back to one of your regular vampires, a charming smile on your lips as you carried on, the despondent demon lurking in the back of your mind.

The night had been a steady one for the bar, and the demon hardly moved. He wasn't interested when a fight broke out, he ignored the other demons that seemed to sidle up to him and then abandon him once they realised he wasn’t going to pander to their whims.

It hit three am when you finally sat in front of him having a stool behind the bar for this exact reason.

“How about you give me a name, and I’ll go knock on Hades’ door to see if he’s got your soul locked up.” This pulled him from the funk he’d fallen into, his eyes finally focusing and finding yours.

“No need. How long has it been?” 

“You’ve been sittin’ there for at least seven hours, sugar. You sure you’re alright?” And it seemed to flip a switch in him, dark tousled hair finally coming to life as he groaned and let his head rest on the bar. 

Like with all of your other creature patrons, you didn’t hesitate, ruffling his hair gently which had him pulling back in shock, making you smirk as his own fingers ran through the jet black locks before sighing.

“I really need to stop falling out of my skin.” He muttered and you laughed.

“It’s been a long time since I had a skinwalking demon inside of these walls.” You commented casually, feeling his eyes study you as you moved to clean part of the bar.

“There are others?” The curiosity in his tone seemed desperate, which surprised you.

“There were, then good old Lucifer decided that the creation was an abomination. How’d you escape the culling?” 

“I didn’t know there was one? How long ago was it?” This had you confused. You’d heard through the grapevines before Lucifer himself had walked into your establishment. You’d been lucky to escape with your life that night.

“Merde, honey we’re talkin’ about five centuries ago. I’ve had this bar running for the last eight.” His face fell at your words, dismay crossing his features before his eyes closed and a sigh escaped him

“I’m barely four centuries old. How on earth did that freak mutation happen?” His words were all snark but you saw the way his shoulders slumped, how he seemed resigned to the defeat. But you frowned, chucking the rag at him, making him look up. 

“None of that in this bar. If good ‘ole Lucy is up to his tricks again, then you’re around for a reason honey. Now, what’s your name, my lovely skinwalker?” And for the first time that night, he smiled.

“Ashton. My name’s Ashton.” 

He became a regular from that day on. Unlike other demons who had assignments to take souls and cash in on debts, he never really did much. 

The only thing you gleaned from Ashton was that he was only ever called for when there seemed to be something that was too good to be true. And more often than not, they were, which left him to do the dispatching.

On those days, he was sullen and silent, unwilling to even share the possible horrors he may have witnessed, even with your experienced eyes, the way his were haunted, part of you wished to never see it.

He became steady at your bar, a fixture that kept your own morale up when things were rough. He was always there to kick someone too rowdy out, and eventually he started staying til you’d locked up and apparated home.

“Hey Ash. New suit?” You’d called out in greeting as he arrived. You’d noticed that he’d started to experiment with his wardrobe more now that he started to gain confidence in his own skills. 

“You ask me every time I’m wearing something different.” He grumbled, making you laugh as he took his spot at the bar, tugging off the suit jacket and resting it over the back of the stool. 

“Because you’re finally showing an artistic flair with your clothes, sue me for noticing and pointing out they make you look good.” You fired back easily, continuing to set up for the rest of the day. 

“Are we still swapping stories today then?” He asked, ignoring your previous comment as you slid his usual glass in front of him. You smiled in return.

“I love how you consider swapping stories of my relatively normal life something exciting.” He laughed at that.

“Hearing stories of domesticity is much more preferable to the ones of death. Let me have this one thing.” His plea with wide eyes was met with unimpressed ones, only for you to give way and crack a smile.

“It’s a good job that I like you then, not many people can get stories outta me. At least, not the ones of where I’m making a new spell in my own home surrounded by the green ferns and my familiar.” This brought a grin to his face.

“Like I said, hearing something so normal and simple, it makes me hopeful that there’s gonna be a day when I don’t get called in to death and destruction.” You felt your heart break for him a little bit. 

Most of the demons who crossed your safe haven had long since settled into the death and destruction that surrounded them. A lot of them even welcomed it with open arms and gleeful smiles. 

But not Ashton. 

He’d practically rejected that side of him. It was only when he’d met you that he worked ways to accept it but not sink into it. He hung onto you like a lifeline and you gave him those stories of normality, if only to keep him grounded, especially on the worst days. 

“I heard old Lucy has put out rumours of a skinwalker. What’s up with that?” You queried once you’d finished setting up the bar. His face took on a pinched look before sighing.

“I’m a skinwalker with control. I’ve seen the other demons, read the transcripts of the old skinwalkers. They, they lost their sanity towards the end. They sunk into themselves and had nothing to pull them back, nothing to keep them in the world we roam. It’s why I can’t lose control. So far I’ve kept it under lock and key, and yes it’s there, but as long as I don’t lose myself like they did, he won’t have a reason to wipe me out.” 

“Good old Lucifer doesn’t need a reason, sugar. But I’m proud of you.” His posture changed ever so slightly, but the smile he gave you in return was one of the more honest smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

“I guess it’s gonna be me keeping my head down?” He finally muttered and you laughed, patting his cheek gently.

“That and some luck, but you got me on your side, so you’ve got enough to see you through my favourite skinwalking demon.” 

But like many things, the luck had run out for both of you. 

Lucifer was sat on the lounge sofa you’d had moved into the VIP section, his casual demeanour betraying the crackling energy that you could feel.

“Most demons give me the time to open the damn bar, your highness.” Even though your age had nothing on Lucifer, you were one of the braver souls who knocked him down, reminding him that you were never one to bend over backwards.

“Unfortunately for you, witch, the bar won’t be opening today. See, there’s been a rumour. A rumour that you’ve been harbouring a skinwalker.” Ice ran through your veins as your stomach dropped.

But you kept yourself as calm as you could, a game you’d played far too many times before.

“Tell me, Lucifer. Why would you be interested in a skinwalker when you destroyed them over five centuries ago. I don’t need to remind you that you came to gloat that day.” The anger was easy to display, the bitterness in your voice telling him exactly what you thought of his choice.

“Ah, but this skinwalker is going rogue.”

“And so I’m harbouring them? Tell me, Lucy, do demons get to die like humans do, or do you just turn into ash?” You felt the burning of the chains before you even had time to react, your breath being stolen as the burning metal wrapped around your body.

Chains draped across your face, and apart from the low hiss of pain, you did nothing more.

“You’re lucky I don’t do what would be considered normal, witch.” 

“Trust me, your demons will turn on you quicker when they find out exactly who is threatening their safe haven. How will you cope when every demon is on my side?” You could see the way he twitched at the possible threat, the chains getting tighter in response.

“Then if I kill you and blame it on the skinwalker, they’ll go after them.” The taunt was enough as you felt the wards shift and you realised it was Ashton.

Part of you wanted to scream, to warn him. But your voice was trapped, barely able to take in a breath as Lucifer stood from his spot, curling his finger so that the chains yanked forward, bringing you to your knees.

“I must confess that I feel like a monster doing this. But let it be a lesson for generations who try to meddle in affairs that aren’t theirs to touch.” You could only close your eyes as he raised his hand, the shift having already started as the fingers elongated and the nails grew into claws. 

“Your confession will never erase what you’ll do. May the creatures of the darkness know who tried this day, to strip my life and make me pay. May they rebel and cast out, those souls so sure and cast out this monster forever more.” It wasn’t a full spell, but the intent behind the words were enough as a raging roar ripped through the building.

But it wasn’t in front of you like you’d anticipated. 

Your eyes snapped open to see something hit Lucifer and throw him across the room.

“Unbind them now.” To your shock, it was Ashton, his skin practically glowing as he towered over you, his stance in a crouch. 

“For what, skinwalker? You’re only going to die before them.” 

You watched in awe as Ashton seemed to shift, almost like his mind had sunk into base instincts and for the first time in your life, you felt a sliver of fear. But surprisingly enough, it wasn’t towards Ashton. No, it was towards Lucifer who had shifted forms with a look of fury on his face.

“You won’t touch them.” There was a laugh that rooted him to the spot, and you couldn’t stop the yell of agony as you felt yourself hoisted up, desperately trying to cut the feeling of pain off, the agony searing and exhausting. 

“Want a bet, skinwalker?” The deep cadence of Lucifer’s voice sent the thrill of fear, but Ashton didn’t hesitate as he launched at the self proclaimed king of hell, no words being spoken but guttural snarls instead. 

You tried to watch, but you could see the black dots in your vision. But you struggled for each breath, watching as Lucifer seemed to toss him like a rag doll.

You were dimly aware of a sound that shook the walls as you blacked out, a silent prayer that if you were to be sent on to the afterlife, that Ashton would be granted one mercy to be with you at least.

-

“Fuck, why is it when I need a witch, the one I want isn’t available.” Your head was fuzzy, pain rocketing around your body as you heard chains clink together.

You couldn’t pull any energy to speak even a single word before the fuzziness swept you under, drowning you from the pain that you were in.

-

“I can sense you.” A different voice startled you and your head shot up from where you were lay, shock colouring your features. “Death looks good on you.” 

You turned to the voice and felt your insides drop at the sight of Hades. Unlike Lucifer, those who knew, knew that Hades ruled the underworld.

“Are you playing as Hades or your alter?” You finally asked and he laughed, stepping from the shadow that had hidden his features. 

Pale skin with vibrant green eyes. He gave you the kind of smile that he only gave Persephone. 

“It’s my alter form today. Figured you’d seen enough already.” He countered with ease, holding his hand out to you. You took it willingly, allowing him to pull you up. In his alter form, he’d named himself Michael. He had soft features that looked welcoming ‘to not scare the children sent his way’, was his excuse. But it was nice to see familiarity.

“How dead am I?” 

“Not as dead as you should be. Since Lucifer used the death chains on you, I have more leeway than he thought, the little upstart.” You blanched at his words.

“He used the death chains? But, that-”

“Should’ve sent you to my realm almost immediately, or at least indefinitely when you lost consciousness.. But your little spell blocked the chains from doing what they do best. Not to mention my skinwalker nearly taking his own life getting those things off you.” Michael explained as he guided you around the forested area. You realised this must have been his wife’s work.

“Wait, your skinwalker? Is that-” Michael cut you off.

“Is that why Lucifer wiped them to extinction? No. His first batch had never found their grounding. Never succeeded in tying their humanity down. But Ashton was different. So I created him.” 

“What happens now?” His smirk bore the arrogance of a god and it took everything to stop yourself from punching him. You’d learned the hard way not to punch a god, they never bruised and never took well to being hit by what they considered a mortal. 

“Take care of my skinwalker. And tell him that he holds the crown in title for now. I’ll be along to make it official in the next day or so. Gotta make sure his royal partner kick-starts their recovery.” 

Before you could fully process the information, you felt the world spin around you once more, going black. 

The blissful pain free state you had been in slowly morphed as the pain seemed to wrap you tightly until you couldn’t breathe, only for your lungs to pull in the much needed air.

“Oh thank fuck.” Was heard above you, but your eyes were too heavy to try and open, your body lethargic and almost lead like to try and reassure the person above you.

When you next came around, the pain was dulled. There was a slow and steady beep that had you turning your head and you stopped yourself from groaning. 

“Please tell me I’m not in a standard hospital.” The mutter was scratchy and quiet. 

“You forget what we’ve been building this hospital for a few years now. This is one for all kinds of creatures. No regular humans in sight.” The voice made you jump, turning to see Ashton sat next to you, his hair dishevelled and eyes tired as he took you in.

“You’re alive.” His lips curved into a small smile at your whispered words.

“More like we’re alive.” He corrected and you could feel a tear fall from the corner of your eye, lifting a hand up to his face. He was quick to scoot closer, your fingertips feeling his skin and you felt the dam burst.

You were both alive.

He didn’t hesitate to rest his hand over yours, keeping it against his face as you cried, but there was understanding in his eyes as you processed everything, Michael’s words finally ringing back to you as you slowly calmed down.

He was here with you, and even though you’d been toying with the idea, you’d never been so sure of telling him how you felt. Once you’d gathered your bearings, before he could start talking, you cut him off quickly.

“So, king of hell, fancy going on a date with me when I’m out of here?” As much as you wanted to be sentimental with Ashton, your emotions were frayed enough as it was. This was the last thing you needed to add to it. And watching Ashton’s face as he processed your words was certainly worth it.

“A date, with me?” He clarified, tone mystified and dumbfounded. You grinned.

“Of course. Give me a week before I get to the sentimentalities, but I’m almost certain I’ve been in love with you for the last year. Hades was nice enough to point that out, since you can’t lie to a god.” 

“Hades? What?” You took pity on Ashton in that moment.

“Instead of dying immediately, I was trapped, but in Hades’ part of the underworld. He explained that you were his skinwalker, connected to your humanity. He could see my feelings for you as clear as daylight. I might as well try to-” Your words were cut off with his lips on yours, the feeling of them causing you to smile against his lips, breaking the kiss.

“I’m not about to get hexed, am I?” He breathed and you laughed, his lips moving to your forehead before he sat back.

“Not in a million years. So you think about actually coming with me now when I get out of here?” His smile spoke the thousands of words he wanted to say, but simply settled for squeezing your hand gently.

“I think it’s about time I moved in, huh?” 

One of the healers seemed to come in for that moment and you allowed her to fuss over you as Ashton settled back in the chair, a peaceful silence sweeping over the two of you. Compared to your last memory of the loud beast-like roars, the peace was welcomed and enjoyed, Ashton’s slow breathing accompanying the steady beep of your monitor that you knew would be gone by the end of the day.

The peace was something you appreciated as you felt Ashton take your hand once the healer had left, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. It was only when he jolted upright his face a picture of alarm as he stared at you before breathing,

“What do you mean ‘king of hell’?”

-

taglist:  @sexgodashton​, @goth5sos​, @malumsmermaid​, @empathycth​, @wildflowergrae​, @calpops​, @rosecolouredash​, @cakesunflower​, @loveroflrh​, @clockwork124​, @cal-puddies​, @stellar5sosrecs​, @ashtoniwir​ , @cthwldflwr​, @cthla​, @calmlftv​, @spicycal​, @liketheydidwithyou​, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer​, @bluehairedtracii​, @drummerboy794​, @feliznavidaddycal​, @ukulelecal​​, @thecurlsofgod​​, @converse-luke​​, @madbomb​​, @ccnicole02​​, @youngblood199456​​, @megz1985​​, @lukesidentitycrisis​​, @snapback-irwie​​, @neonweeknds​​, @666yourwitchyfriend666​​, @cashtonasfuck​​, @ashtaway​​, @conquerwhatliesahead92​​, @itjustkindahappenedreally​​, @kchillout​​, @damselindistressanu​​, @colormekaykay​​, @findingliam-o​​, @sublimehood​​, @singledadharrington​​, @sugarcoated-pain​​, @singt0mecalum​​, @calumspeachy​​, @colourfulcalum​​, @lostincalum​​, @burncrashbromance​​, @asht0ns-world​​, @flusteredcliffo​​, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​​, @fangirl-everythang​​, @lashtonswildflower​​, @lashtondaddies​​, @calumssunshine​​, @ambskiwi​​, @abundant-stars​​, @myescapefromthislife​​, @lmao5sosimagines​​, @beyoncesdragon​​, @jae-writes-fanfiction​​, @cxddlyash​​, @tresfandom​​, @niallisworld​​, @lietomevalntyn​​, @babylon-corgis​​, @monochrome44​, @behind-my-hazeleyes27​​, @lyllibug​​, @bloodmoonashton​​, @ghostofmashton​​, @summerellaz​​, @a-little-less-sixteen​​, @cashworthy​​, @smokeinherlungs​​, @longlastingdaydream​​, @h0tsos​​, @sadistmichael​​, @sugar-nico​​, @sunnysidesblog​​, @angel-cal​​, @samros95​​, @maluminspace​​, @lukeinblue​​, @britnicole11​​, @gigglyirwin​​, @everyscarisahealingplace​​, @loverofcashton​​, @iovehemmings​​, @g-l-pierce​​, @jannimoeller3​​, @wildmichaelflower​​, @lukeskisses​​, @youngbloodchild​​, @abb-lan-5sos​​, @calumsbub​​, @flameraine​​, @here-for-the-uproars, @mateisit-balsamic​​, @ilovelukey​​, @castaway-cashton​​, @musiclover1263​​, @alloutofcashton​​, @tobefalling​​, @sarahshepherdblog​​, @cassie-sos​​, @possesedperson​​, @treatallwithkindness​​, @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo​​, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles​​, @ashtonlrwin​​, 

if u wanna be added to my taglist just hmu! 

[waywardodysseys]

Comeback - Oneshot

gif by @captainamericas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Warnings: angst, smut, oral receiving (f), unprotected sex (wrap it up)

~   ~   ~

The water is hot against your skin as you stand under the shower. Your eyes look down at the wet tile floor. You see red swirling down the drain as the blood washes off your body. You had been on the west coast dealing with matters when you had an alert from your personal Quinjet’s com system. Your mind thinks about Rhodey’s message.

“Stark’s gone Y/N. Bruce has returned.” He had paused. “It’s time you come home.”

You had to take a moment before Rhodey’s words finally absorbed themselves in your mind. You had then set course for the compound and returned home.

Home, you think.

The Avengers compound had been your home since Stark hired you to run it. The people living inside of it had become your family. Then Tony divided everyone, and home crumbled and the family fell apart.

You weren’t one for choosing sides, you went where you were needed. You had made a promise to the man you loved to stay behind.

“Stay,” Steve had pleaded with you two years ago.

He had been on his way to fight Tony regarding Bucky. Out of everyone on the planet you knew Bucky vitally mattered to Steve. A human needed air to breathe in order to survive, and in the case of Bucky and Steve they needed one another in order to survive even through the tribulations life had pushed upon their friendship.

“You know I can help,” you had pleaded back in a whisper. You didn’t want to stay behind; you couldn’t lose him.

You had no powers; you had a set of special skills valuable to the Avengers. You had become essential to the team as Nat and Clint had when they were recruited to join.

Steve had cupped your cheek, “I love you and I don’t want you having to pick me or Tony. And,” he had paused, kissed your lips lightly, “I want to know you’ll be here when I return.”

You had waited for days, then days turned into weeks. You had gone to watch over the Parker kid at Tony’s behest. The kid had become like a brother and you eventually moved on, even though he annoyed you every chance he could get it.

You had then returned to the compound but with its quietness and the stir craziness creeping up on you, you had to leave.

“Please Rhodey!” You had nearly begged him with tears in your eyes. “I need to go. I can’t stand to be in these walls. Alone.”

Rhodey had sighed heavily, “you aren’t alone Y/N.”

You had wiped the escaping tears. “I know you’re here but,” you paused and sniffled, “but he’s not here.”

Rhodey knew you were referring to Steve. Rhodey had sighed in defeat and stressed, “if you need to go then go, but remember when I call you home, you come.”

And now, Rhodey had called you home.

You hear movement in the showers as you turn off the water. You know from the heavy footfalls who it is. “You’re horrible at sneaking up on people.”

Steve leans against the wall and crosses his arms, “says the sniper.”

You grab the towel from the hook, wrap it around your body and open the glass door. Your eyes glide over the Avenger.

His blond hair’s grown, and a beard graces his face. His steel blue eyes lock onto your body. The silver star’s missing from his uniform. You take it as a sign he didn’t consider himself an Avenger anymore, let alone someone worthy being known as a hero.

“Rhodey says you’ve kept busy.”

You shrug one shoulder, “there hasn’t been much to do. Besides waiting. And I was tired of waiting,” you pause, “when did you return?”

“Sam, Nat and I were keeping track of Wanda and Vision. We came all the way from Scotland since we got word Tony went missing. We returned about an hour ago,” Steve pauses, “why were you out west?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You retort.

“I thought your old life was behind you.” Steve remarks hastily.

“Like I said Rogers, I was tired of waiting!” You shout at him. “Besides how would you fu—you checked my jet’s GPS?”

“Rhodey knew you were doing jobs again, but he didn’t tell me where. He promised not to ask questions when you checked in. I figured I could find out!”

“You left me Rogers! Me! It shouldn’t matter what I had to do to past the time!”

“Were you with him?” Steve sneers.  

Your ex – the reason you left the west coast for the east coast. Your past job was what got you hired to run the compound – a hit woman for your ex’s mafia family.

“No, I was not with him. I was working for somebody else I had connections with. They asked no questions and paid well because they knew I would get things done.”

You had divulged your past to Steve one rainy night while stuck in a cabin deep in the forest in the backwoods of New York. You thought he’d turn away from you once he learned the truth about you, but he didn’t. He had wrapped you tightly in his arms, placed a kiss on your temple and told you he’d protect you from the past if it ever found you. He then made love to you slowly that night in the glow of the fireplace, and you knew you had fallen in love with Steve Rogers.              

You close the distance between you and Steve. You keep your hands at your side. Your voice is a whisper infused with sadness. “Two years.”

You hadn’t been with another man in two years because you were waiting for him to return. Your body was aching for him as a heatwave rolled over you. You wanted to know what his beard felt like against your flesh, you wanted to know how long his hair was when you weaved your fingers through it.

“I know.” Steve utters.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. Love, longing, desire is seen in the vessels to each soul. Your heart and Steve’s beating steadily as one force between two lovers meant to be.

Steve reaches out and touches your cheek. He swipes away the lone tear then brushes his mouth against yours. Your lips as soft and welcoming, just as he remembered. He feels your hands travel over his shoulders then weave themselves through his hair as his arms pull you into him.

Steve moves his hands down your back and over your ass. He lifts you up and feels your legs wrap around his waist. He pulls faintly from your lips and begins walking away from the locker room, and towards the living quarters inside the compound.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. I,” you pause, “I stayed in your room for a time before I left the compound,” you smile as bury your head in the crook of his neck, “besides everyone knew I was sleeping in your room before you left.”

Steve smiles and remembers everyone knowing he and you were finally together after they made him make the first move. “I know. We shared plenty of memories inside my room.”

You blush because you recall a memory then you look at Steve. “Have you been with—”

Steve silences you with a kiss, “no one. There’s been no one since I left. Only you. Only your eyes, your mouth, your body has experienced me.”

You hadn’t been alarmed when Steve revealed to you he was a virgin. Everyone on the team believed he was one. You on the other hand had enough experience yet you were still hesitant to take it away from him but he had reassured you countless times he had wanted you to be the one to take it, the one he loved, the one he trusted.

“I should be asking you the same question,” Steve mumbles now as he enters his room.

You look deep into his blue eyes, “there’s been no one Rogers,” you sigh, “no one. There’s only you.”

Steve captures your mouth with his, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He feels your legs slide down, hears them softly hit the floor. He pulls you up against his body as his fingers move over the towel and finds the knot holding it together on your body. He undoes it seamlessly and lets it drop to the floor.

You return Steve’s kiss in the same fervor as you run your hands over his suit. You feel the material against your bare skin, but you need the suit off his body and him between your legs. You undo the belt, move your hands up to remove the holster.

“Steve,” you breathlessly whisper.

“On the bed,” Steve pants as he walks you backwards to the bed while moving a finger down your naked flesh. It’s feather light as it moves between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach.

Your legs hit the bed making you sit, looking up at Steve. He bends over and places a chaste kiss on your mouth while pushing you back against the mattress. He moves his mouth down, following the trail his finger made earlier. His beard is prickly against your skin which sends more pleasure sweeping through your body. When he reaches your stomach, you open your legs, giving him an open invitation.

Steve dips his head between your legs and opens your folds, revealing your sensitive nub to his eyes and tongue. He flicks at your clit teasingly and takes in your sharp intake of breath and low moan.

“Steve,” your voice is airy as your hands grasp the bedding tightly. You roll your hips trying to help your slow pace orgasm increase.

He moves his tongue faster against your clit. Steve sucks the nub lightly into his mouth as hears your continuous sharp intakes of breath. He places a hand on your inner thigh to keep the rolling of your hips to a minimum.

“Fu—mmm—,” you breathlessly moan as your orgasm reaches its crest.

Over the last two years you’ve had to resort to self-care with your fingers and a few toys you had hidden away in your own living quarters. And now with Steve’s tongue against your clit, it feels as if it’s the first night with him all over again. You had to tell him what to do, and he followed every instruction that night and every night after, when he pleasured you with his tongue.

Your orgasm erupts inside of you as both hands clutch the bedding in your hands. Your body trembles as Steve licks your overly sensitive nerve center, teasing you as he enjoys feeling the aftershocks of the orgasm he’s given you.

“Steve,” you pant in a low moan, “Steve.”

“Y/N,” he whispers as he moves his mouth against an inner thigh.

His beard against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine. You feel his fingers drum lightly against your stomach. The man was teasing you when he knew what you wanted, needed – him inside of you.

“I need you,” you whisper.

Steve runs his mouth against the skin of your other inner thigh as his fingers tease your folds. He feels your warmth, feels your wetness. He knows how badly you crave him.

“Here?”

You bite your bottom lip and moan, “yes. Please!”

Steve places a kiss on your stomach then stands. You feel small as he towers over you in the bed. You lick your lips as Steve pulls off his gloves. You watch as he finds the zipper to his suit then strips it off in a hurry. You inwardly moan at seeing his naked skin after being apart for too long. He stands naked at the foot of the bed as you sit up and reach for him.

Steve kneels on the bed and dips his head in the crook of your neck as he feels your hands travel up his arms and over his shoulders. He nips at your skin as he feels your naked body against his own naked one.

He should’ve brought you along when he left but he didn’t. He wanted to protect you, needed to protect you because you were the woman he loved. He couldn’t bear losing you if something tragically happened when he finally confronted Tony. So, he asked you to stay behind, asked you not to pick a side because he had to make sure you were still alive when he did return.

Steve looks down into your eyes. He reaches down and strokes his cock along your folds then enters your core in one thrust. He’s missed your slick walls around him. Steve moans lowly as he feels your walls clench around him tightly. He moans again, loudly, as you move your hands up his arms then down his chest and around to his back.

“I’ve missed you,” Steve whispers as he looks down into your eyes.

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper in return.

Steve brushes his mouth against yours before he begins thrusting in and out of you slowly. His orgasm rising steadily inside of him as he takes in the delight of being between your legs after two harrowing years of not being around you. He knows he doesn’t want to go this long again without seeing you, without hearing you, without feeling you against him.

Steve’s pace increases as he feels the rolling of your hips. Both of you moving together as one, finding each other’s rhythms quickly. Your orgasm and his building rapidly as pleasure moves through your body and Steve’s.

“Steve,” you whisper as you feel your second orgasm crest inside of you. His thrusts and the rolling of your hips makes the pleasure sensors inside of you hum as you dig your fingers into his flesh.

“Y/N,” Steve half pants, half whispers as his orgasm crests within him. He thrusts deeply into you as he empties himself of your depths.

You feel him spilling into you which causes your orgasm to erupt inside of you. Your slick walls pulsate around his cock as he thrusts again inside of you, making sure he’s buried deep inside of you as he orgasms.

Steve captures your mouth as he feels your orgasm against his cock. He enjoys feeling your slick canal clenching against him and milking him as he gives you another orgasm. He’s glad to be back home, glad to be in your arms and between your legs once again.

You kiss Steve in return moving your hands up and through his hair. You never want to let him go. He’s comeback to you and you can’t lose him again.

Taglist: @random066​

[adrenaline-roulette]

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (reader) Word Count: 4.5K+ Warnings: Little bit of language, some angst, overall nothing too major this chapter *Disclaimer, Hey, so it’s been a while since I updated this.... I don’t really have an excuse other than that the creative juices just weren’t there I suppose. Plus I started a new job recently, which is awesome, but also rather tiring! But hey, here’s a new chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six Seven and Eight can all be found here!

Chapter Nine: Call me by my name

Waking up wrapped in Four’s arms was both an unfamiliar feeling, whilst also an exceptionally welcome one. By the time you had finally fallen asleep, you could see sunlight breaching the horizon, dawn well on its way to greeting the waking world. And while others would begin to awaken and start their days, you and Four closed the curtain to the pale oranges and pinks painting the sky, turning your backs on the idea of a new day. A new day which held nothing but uncertainty and fear. Though a new day none the less.

In all the ways you had imagined waking up following last night, the way in which you did so had never once crossed your mind. Four had his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, as he cradled you against his chest, his chin resting atop your head. You woke slowly, vaguely aware of Four’s quiet, sleepy murmuring above you, though that in itself was not what woke you. No, instead, what greeted you was the odd sound of something hitting the small window above your bed. At first, you thought perhaps it was an incessant insect which was adamant the way in, or out for that matter, was through the closed window. Rolling over so you now lay on your back, you waited a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the bright light which streamed through your trailer. Gazing up, you noticed a shadow beyond your curtain, a shadow far bigger than that of an insect. “What the hell?” You whisper, earning a tired grunt from Four in reply.

You roll your eyes, smirking softly as you carefully peel his arms away from your naked waist, resting them back on the bed in the warmth where you had been laying. You move slowly and carefully, making sure to not disturb Four’s slumber during your investigation. Carefully, you move up onto your knees, before pulling up onto your feet, standing on your toes so you can see out of the small window. Pulling the curtain aside, you have to stifle a scream at what, no, who you see.

Standing bellow your window, holding a fistful of small rocks is Five, who looks awfully pleased with herself. Your eyes lock with her chocolate ones, and despite seeing you, she throws yet another rock against your window, smirking up at you. “What the hell?” You mouth at her, unsure as to whether she could make out your words or not.

Her sparkling eyes and crooked grin say yes, but her next move screams no. “Get up! We need our fearless leader!” She screams, and there’s no doubt that every single person at base could hear her.

You glare down at her, stumbling backwards as Four flies up into a sitting position, hair a tangled mess of golden curls and shinning eyes darting around like a startled animal. “What’s going on?” He demands, eyes landing on yours, as you grip the curtain to prevent yourself from falling. If Five were still looking, she would’ve received an eyeful of an exceptionally nude you. You pray she had turned away.

Slowly, you lower yourself back to the bed, crawling your way back underneath your blankets. Four is still on high alert, but you pay him no mind, whishing instead that you could rewind the clock to five minutes ago, when the outside world was nothing but a distant memory. “Are you going to explain what just happened, or do I have to guess?” Four finally asks, slithering back down the mattress and curling his body around yours.

“I’ll tell you, but I’m interested to hear what your theories are first.” You giggle, rolling onto your side, and combing your fingers through his hair.

He pauses for a moment, eyes squinting as he contemplates his answer. “You thought aliens had crash landed and you wanted to see for yourself, but were too scared to actually leave the trailer to see?” He blinks up at you, a grin worming its way onto his lips.

“Well I mean, how far from Area 51 are we actually?” You tease, playing along with his stupidity.

“Oh, Area 51 is all a lie. Area 52 is where the aliens are!”

You lift a brow, scrutinizing his words. “Oh? And where is Area 52 then, hm?”

“Right here. We are the aliens!” He grins, wrapping his arms around you again, and tickling his finger down your sides.

You gasp out a squeal, laughter pealing from your lips as he tickles you relentlessly. “No! Stop it! Don’t!” You giggle, wriggling and squirming beneath his touch. He rolls over you, hovering above you in a strong hold plank position, his hand poised at the side of your stomach. “Mercy! Please have mercy!” You beg, tears of joy sprinkling your cheeks.

He leans down, pressing the first gentle kiss you had experienced from him, against your lips. He doesn’t linger, not allowing it to turn into anything more, not yet at least. “I’ll have mercy. But only because you asked so nicely.” Carefully, he slides away from you, laying back on his side beside you. “Really though. What was that all about?” He whispers, turning his gaze up to the window for a moment, before returning to you.

You let out a soft sigh, rolling onto your side too so to face him. “How well can Five keep a secret?”

“Just as well as any of us. It’s part of the job.” He offers, doing his best to shrug in his current position.

“That’s not quite what I meant. I think – I think she knows about us. Or at the very least about what we did last night.”

There’s a pause, the air seeming to go perfectly still between you both. There’s no outside sounds, and all you can hear is the sound of your breathing. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah.” You offer with a sympathetic smile.

“She won’t say anything. At least not to anyone who’ll actually try to do something about it, like One.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’ll probably give us hell for the next couple of months at least. And I would be surprised if she hasn’t told Three yet.”

“What if One finds out? I know how much shit he gives Two and Three!”

Four takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers gently within his. “Don’t worry. He’s all talk, but no action. Two and Three have been sleeping together for like, six months now. He hasn’t done anything about it!”

You breathe a sigh of relief, squeezing his fingers back softly, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you.  He was right, One was good at talking a big game, but more often than not, he never followed through with his threats. With a soft sigh, you press your face against the pillow, squeezing your eyes tightly shut to block out the few rays of sun which dared to invade your vision. “We need to go.” Your voice is muffled by the pillow, but you’re positive Four had heard you.

“Do we have to?”

At this you look up, your eyes searching for his sparkling ones for a brief moment. “Yeah, we do. That’s what Five was here about. Our final briefing is supposed to start right about-” You pause, hold out your arm and peer down at your wrist, squinting at the watch which wasn’t there. “Now.”

Four looks just as disappointed as you feel, however shows no signs of voicing his feelings, at least not now anyways. With a disgruntled groan, you roll away from Four, your feet planting firmly on the floor before you hoist yourself up. The remnants of alcohol left in your system make for the room to spin just slightly for a moment or two, before righting itself. As you walk towards the small chest of drawers where you keep clothes, you toe at Four’s shirt, which at been discarded on the floor last night. There’s no avoiding the grin which snakes across your lips, as you bend down to retrieve it, balling it up and tossing it over your shoulder to the slow-moving blonde. “I think I might have a sweater that’ll fit you if you want?”

Four yawns from the bed, muttering under his breath about how much he doesn’t want to get up, though you pay him little attention, certain that if he were speaking directly to you, he would say so. “Why would I need new clothes?”

As you rummage through one of the drawers, you throw a weary gaze over your shoulder, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. “Well, if you rock up to the briefing wearing the exact same clothes you had on last night, people will be suspicious!”

You could see in his glistening eyes, that he really couldn’t care less as to what the team thought of him, however after a moment of thought, he appeared to have a slight change of heart. “If you have something I could wear, that’d be good.”

Smiling softly, you dig down to the bottom of the middle drawer, producing a charcoal black sweatshirt before throwing it over to Four. While he tugs the garment over his head, you busy yourself with buttoning up a fresh pair of jeans, and performing the sniff test on a long-sleeved shirt. Upon deeming its smell unoffensive, you hurriedly put it on. Turing on the spot your eyes travel to Four, and you can barely hold back the laughter bubbling in your chest. In the centre of this sweatshirt, in bold white lettering reads ‘Team Jacob’. You knew exactly what the shirt said when you had given it to him, and it wasn’t your fault Four didn’t look at it before putting it on! Chewing on your bottom lip to hold back your smirk, you stride over to Four, who was busy rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. “You ready for this?”

He blinks rapidly across at you, eyebrows rising in surprise at your question. “I am, yeah. Are you?”

That was the real question wasn’t it? Were you ready for this? Were you prepared to give everyone their marching orders, and potentially see your entire team killed? “Only one way to find out.”

*****

Despite Five having awoken you, somehow you and Four were still the first to arrive to the briefing room, though it’s not long before the others slowly shuffle in. One was nursing a mug of pitch black coffee, while Three was rocking a pair of dark sunglasses, whether out of necessity or aesthetic you weren’t quite sure. Seven was marginally better off, though the bags beneath his eyes seemed to show he hadn’t slept well. Two and Five however were way too chipper for two people who should’ve been dealing with hangovers, but yet there they were, looking as flawless as ever. You made a mental note to ask Five if she had some Doctors secrets on treating a hangover. “So I see Four has decided to make a political statement today…” Five smirks, her eyes trained to his sweater. She was the first to mention anything, however now, Four had five pairs of eyes glued to his chest, while you looked away to keep yourself distracted.

“Wh- what d’you mean?” He grumbles, brows creasing into a frown as he grips the hem of the sweater, pulling it away from his waist so to see what everyone was staring at. The colour drains out of his cheeks as he reads, then rereads the words, and you just know he’s already plotting his revenge on you. “Eight…” He growls lowly, and you can feel his eyes boring holes into your skull beneath his stare.

“I didn’t do anything! How could I have? It’s your shirt after all!”

Five chuckles, deciding to play along in this little game of yours. “Aw come on Four, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! Granted I’m more of a team Edward myself, but we’re all allowed our own opinions!”

“This isn’t my shirt.”

“Then whose is it?” Three teases, waggling his brows suggestively.

A deep crimson blush creeps up along Four’s neck and cheeks, and you know he’s wishing for the ground to open up bellow him and swallow him. Finally, you turn and meet his glare, puckering your lips and blowing him a teasing kiss. He has nothing to say, there’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t clue everyone in as to where the shirt had come from, and under what circumstances. “It’s mine.” He concedes, earning a hearty laugh from the entire team. You’ll pay for this little prank, you just know it.

“Right then, now that we’ve established that Four was a Twihard, shall we get down to the real reason we’re all here?” One says, placing his mug down on a table, and motioning for you to join him up the front of the room.

Everyone makes themselves comfortable, or at least as comfortable as possible on plastic folding chairs. You step up beside One, folding your hands together behind your back, and curling your fingers together. You don’t quite know what you’re waiting for, but a part of you thinks that perhaps One will take the reigns on this one, and do all the talking. That however is not the case, not since you took over for this mission at least. You clear your voice with a cough, both stalling and preparing yourself at the same time. “Right, so as One said in the initial introduction last month, we know where the Lushnick’s are. They’ve set up in Noumea New Caledonia. It’s a popular tourist destination for many cruise liners, however that is the local’s main source of income, tourism. There are people who live there who are desperate for medical attention, and as per usual, the Lushnick’s are promising to help these people, but not in the way a reputable Doctor would.”

“So we’re going to the South Pacific then are we?” Seven calls from the back of the room, arms folded across his chest as he watches you intently.

“Yes, those of you who have never visited the Country before will be going. Has anyone been before?”  You look around at everyone, though all heads shake no. “Right, so there we have it, we’re all going to the South Pacific.” Turning to the computer beside you, you log in and bring up the plans you and One had come up with, displaying them on the projector for the team to see. Once an image of the island displays, you step away from the computer. “This is Noumea, at the very back of the island here.” You gesture to the map. “Is where the Hospital the Lushnick’s run, is set up. According to all inspections and accreditations, the hospital is up to standard and there are no concerns, at least not with the government, or with health departments.”

Leaning back over, you pull up the blueprints to the hospital itself. “This of course, is our main target. The Lushnick’s will be here, we just need to find them, and get rid of them.”

This time it’s Three who speaks up. “Is the goal to kill the Lushnick’s, or capture them so they can answer for their crimes?”

You pause at this, the moral response would be to agree with the latter option, however you know that if you were to find the Lushnick’s, then it would be the former. You turn to One, your eyes pleading for back up from him. “The aim is to capture them.” He declares, though there is a spark of recognition that passes through the entire team. If the need arises, kill them, no questions asked.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before returning to your task. “So here’s the plan. One way or another, we all need to be in that hospital, there will be no one on the outside for this mission. One and Two, you’re new Doctors to the hospital, One you’ll be assigned to A&E and Two, you’ll be headed to the women’s and children’s ward.”

“Why isn’t Five one of the Doctor’s too?” Seven queries, looking between you and her.

Five answers for you, having had this exact same conversation with you only a week earlier. “It’s too much of a risk. surgeons move around all the time, I can’t risk being recognised if there is a surgeon I’ve previously worked with. It would jeopardize the whole mission.” Seven nods his understanding, and all attention is back to you.

“Five will be head wardsman for paediatrics. It has come to our understanding the Lushnick’s have developed a particular interest in healing women and children, so those will be our main bases to cover. Three, congratulations, you’re now working in the kitchens, and will be delivering meals to patients. And Seven, you’ll be a security officer, patrolling the wards we believe the Lushnick’s will be in. That way you can trail them.”

You turn your attention to Four now, he vaguely knew what his role in this mission would entail, but you had kept most of the details to yourself, until now. If all went according to plan, Four would be face to face with the Lushnick’s. “Four, you’ll be getting admitted to A&E with a severe migraine, this is where One will come in, he will help build your story and keep the act going.” You bite down on your lower lip, meeting Four’s gaze for just a moment longer than necessary, though it did help to calm your nerves. “I’ll be head of security. This will allow me access to the hospital’s computer systems, their security cameras, and I’ll be able to get you guys anywhere within the hospital.”

“How will you be head of security? Surely there’s already someone in that position?” Four asks, brows creased in confusion. This was something you hadn’t thought to mention to him, though then again, up until last night you hadn’t been anything more than flirtatious friends, and there had been no reason to inform him…

“I’ll be arriving in Noumea before you all.”

“How much before?”

You fold your arms across your chest, meeting Four’s intense gaze. “Two weeks before you. I leave this afternoon. I’ll be removing the current head of security, and taking his place. I’ll spend my time there before you arrive, becoming acquainted with the hospital, and sorting out the logistics for you to all begin working.” You pause for a moment, waiting to see if Four will say anything more, though for now he seems to just be listening. “We will all be arriving in instalments. One and Seven will arrive three days after I do, and will begin working the following day. Five, two days after them. Three and Seven one day after her, and Four you’ll be arriving twelve days after I do.”

“Wait, why am I arriving after everyone? What good will I be to you all arriving that late?” Four demands, standing now with his arms folded across his chest. You had expected him to dislike this plan, hell even One had warned you of exactly this happening, but as per usual, you hadn’t listened.

You meet Four’s gaze head on, standing strong against him. “Your cover for this mission, is as a tourist. You’re just there visiting the island, and will happen to fall unwell while there. We can’t have everyone arrive on the same day, it would look too suss. Having you arrive last should keep you in the clear, no one would expect a tourist to intentionally cut their vacation short for a hospital visit. Out of all of us, you should be the safest.”

“I don’t want to be the safest!”

“Well you are!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt!” You almost shriek, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You could live with the other ghosts being injured, hell you would even be fine with yourself being injured during this mission, but not Four. You can’t see Four hurt during this.

The air in the briefing room is thick like a winter’s morning fog, no one dares to break the silence, nor the staring match between you and Four. With a deep breath in, you tear your eyes away from his, clearing your throat before continuing. “Once I arrive, I’ll get myself access to the hospital securities’ database and change over the contact details referring to their employment officer. The number will be changed to mine, and I will become their first point of contact when needing to hire a new head of security. Back to how I will become head of security, the current head is experiencing marital issues with his wife who lives in Scotland with their children. He moved to Noumea for work, and she refused to move with him. The day I arrive, I’ll be sending him an email from her lawyers, demanding he return to Scotland at once or she will be taking full custody of their children. Naturally, he will leave immediately, which means the hospital will require a new head of security. This is where my contact changes will come into play. I will be called, and the hospital will request I assign a new head of security to begin working ASAP. I’ll begin working the following day, and will create access passes for all of our new staff.”

“What about credentials? I don’t know a whole lot about being a doctor, but I’m positive they have some kind of proof of who they are.” Two asks, tilting her head to the side and regarding you with a look of complete interest. So far, despite all her scrutinizing, she has been unable to see any flaws in your plan.

“One has everything you need. I have created diplomas licences, literally everything you could possibly require to prove yourselves as active doctors should anyone request them. One will make sure you have yours before you leave.”  Two nods her understanding, and goes back to taking down notes on the mission.

“I will warn you all now, I cannot guarantee you will all have access to the same wards and restricted areas of the hospital. I will do my best to grant access to everything to you all, however it may not be possible. Seven, Three and Five, you will be the most likely to have access to everywhere within the hospital, as you will all have the most reason to visit all areas. I’ll do my best for everyone though.”

“What exactly am I meant to be doing during all of this?” Four grumbles, his eyebrows creased in frustration.

One replies before you even have the chance, and you remind yourself to thank him later. You’re not sure if you had the heart to tell him just what his role actually was. “You’re bait for the Lushnick’s. As Eight mentioned, you’re going to present to A&E with a migraine. I’ll be your doctor, and I’m basically going to convince everyone that you’re much worse than you actually are. The plan is, that the Lushnick’s will hear about how horribly unwell you are, and will swoop in and save the day. When they do, you have to agree to everything they say. Tell them that you have no immediate family or next of kin. Let them think you’re all alone, that you’re vulnerable. If your acting is good enough, they’re going to believe you, and they’re going to try and help you. That’s when the rest of us will be there to stop them, before they have the chance to actually do anything to you of course.”

Four’s frown has deepened, and his eyes have grown dark. He doesn’t like the plan, doesn’t want to be bait. He want’s to be in on all of the action, fighting tooth and nail in order to get back at the Lushnick’s for everything they’ve ever done. But for once, he knows better than to argue, he may not have a great deal of faith in One, especially after their cluster fuck of a first mission, but you… You he trusts with his life. “Okay. So when I present to A&E, when I fill in the arriving form, you want me to leave all of the emergency contact details blank more or less?”

You nod, offering him a soft half smile. “Yes please, it will help lure in the Lushnick’s if they think you have no one.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you gaze around the room, your eyes falling to each member of your team. “Does anyone have any other questions before I leave?”

There’s a chorus of ‘No’s’ throughout the room, and you smile to yourself, rather proud that not only had you created this mission, but you had successfully explained it thoroughly too. “Wonderful. If anyone does think of anything, One will be here for a little while longer. You will all be able to contact us through email once we’re in Noumea, and upon arriving at the hospital you will all be issued with an earpiece for us to communicate during the mission. Four, One will slip you your earpiece once you arrive at A&E.”

Once again, everyone nods their understanding, and you clasp your hands together tightly in front of you. “Good luck everyone, and I’ll be seeing you in Noumea soon.” And with that, you make your exit from the briefing room, heading to your trailer to finish packing your bag before your departure.

*****

 You already had a few of the essentials packed, however you still had a great deal more you required before leaving for the airport in five hours’ time. One had assigned himself as your designated driver, and you had simply shrugged and accepted his offer. You assumed it was to go over a few last-minute details he may think of before you left. As you fold your clothes neatly into your bag, you find yourself fighting back against dark thoughts which cloud your mind. What if we don’t all survive? What if the Lushnick’s recognise you? What if the plan fails and Four ends up getting hurt? What if- Before your overactive imagination has the chance to create any other worst case scenarios, a knock on your closed trailer door pulls you back into the present. You jump on the spot, blinking rapidly down to the pair of pants you held half folded in your arms. “C-come in.”

The door squeals open, and Four steps through, both hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt you had let him borrow. “We need to talk.” He begins, eyes focusing on everything but you.

You nod slowly, trying desperately to catch his gaze. “Yes, I suppose we do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving early?”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“Yes? No? Maybe? Fuck Eight, I don’t know!”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. If you knew I was leaving today, before the rest of you. Would you still have slept with me last night?”

There’s no thought to his next words, they tumble from his mouth without a filter. “Of course I would’ve!”

You smile gently, bowing your head slightly. “I didn’t know that. I was afraid to tell you. Afraid that maybe if I did, then last night never would’ve happened. Or if it did happen, you would’ve seen it as some kind of farewell.”

“There’s not going to be a farewell, do you hear me Eight? No one is saying goodbye, at least not today, not for this mission.”

“Okay, it’s not goodbye then. But just promise me one thing will you?”

“Of course, anything.” Four whispers, stepping closer to you and reaching out to take both your hands in his.

You bite your lower lip, before lifting your head, your eyes finally meeting his. “When it does come time to say goodbye, because the day will eventually come. Promise to call me by my name, Y/N.”

You can see the heartbreak in his eyes, he doesn’t want to think about ever saying goodbye to you, just as he never thought he would have to say goodbye to Six. But here you both were, preparing for something that you had convinced yourselves would never happen. “If the day comes, then I’ll call you Y/N, but until then, you’ll always be Eight to me.” He pauses, rubbing soft circles against the backs of your hands with his calloused thumbs. “Same for me, if we have to say goodbye, will you call me Billy? I don’t want to be a number to you my whole life.”

“You’ll never just be a number to me Billy.”

Four Eighths taglist (Let me know if you would like to be added!)  @sj-thefan​ @not-the-cleavers​  @jinxfirebolt18902​ @softnorris​  @dear-vista​  @mixer2b​  @rintheemolion​  @shane-isa-shame​  @keithseabrook27​   @tealaquinn​  @himarisolace​  @buckingpeterparker​  @cailin-lefantasy​  @riddikuluslysirius​  @vivalakatee​

Check out my MASTERLIST for other fun stuff!  Chapter Ten out now!

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 4

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 4: Kate steps in when Tommy tries to make a sacrifice. 

       “So, what’s Boston like, then?” John slipped into a seat near Kate. A toothpick hanging from his teeth, a coy smile on his face. He liked the aura of the new girl. Fiery with a bit of mystique to her. It lit up the dull British morning.

           Kate was reading the newspaper in the betting shop, told by Tommy to wait for his meeting to be finished. “Not too different from here. Lot more Irish. Have to be careful where you drink, it’s never fun to have the police raid when the night’s still young. A shame, really. But if you know who pays the police off, then you’re safe.” Her eyes flicked up to the Shelby boy. “We prefer our tea in the harbor.” She winked.

           He chuckled. “Can see why Tom took a liking to you.” He tipped back in his chair, precariously rocking back and forth on two legs.

           “I actually don’t think he likes me all that much.” She replied, her eyes going back to the headlines. "His behavior towards me would point to someone who dislikes me very much."

           “Nah, he’s just a little wary of new people s’all.” He explained. "He always likes an intelligent bird, keeps 'im on his toes."

           “I'm flattered, but I genuinely think he's not very fond of me. But it must mean he really wants a slice of the American market.” Kate twisted around to look at the blackboard with all the odds written in chalk. “When’s the next derby? I’d like to go.”

           “Sunday,” John answered and plucked the newspaper from her hands. “Want to place a bet?”

           “I don’t bet on races I know will be fixed.” Kate smiled and patted her purse. “Unless I know which way they’ll be fixed.”

           Tommy always entered a room with a good deal of force. Not physical force, he didn’t go around pushing people to make his presence known. No, it was more of an energy about him, the way he moved attracted attention. At first, Kate thought he walked like a soldier. But the more she saw him, the less she believed that. Instead, it was predatory. He walked with such a manner of authority and power that people instinctually moved out of his path.

           “What’ve you got?” He arrived at the desk John and Kate were lounging around.

           “And a beautifully good morning to you too, Mr. Shelby,” Kate replied sarcastically.

           Tommy tugged off his gloves and held out an expectant hand. “Did you write anything down?”

           She smiled, appreciating that he didn't bend over backward and held his ground. She liked a strong leader. To appease him, she opened her purse. “I’ve detailed out important family members in each city. Names of speakeasies. Alliances. Rivalries.” She listed off with each sealed envelope she handed to him. "I've even added where they like to go out to lunch. That's where they make business deals. Should one of them go up in flames." She shrugged and clicked the tongue. "C'est la vie."

           John watched with a hint of apprehension. “Is this something you really want to be getting into?” He asked his brother. They had enough enemies on the home front to even think about going on the offense in America.

           Kate closed the latch on her purse. “These are experienced men.” She agreed with the younger Shelby. “They don’t run betting shops out of their apartments.”

           Tommy let the jab roll off his shoulder as he began to tear open the envelopes of information. “Come into my office.” He ordered firmly.

           John and Kate shared a humorous smile before she stood up to follow Tommy. “I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, so do I get protection from the Peaky Blinders?” She asked, sitting down and pulling out a cigarette.

           “You do if this information is useful.” He reiterated and shut the door. “But you said you wanted work while you were here.”

           “Sure, I’d like to keep busy and get a few extra coins in my purse.” She shrugged. “Have you got something for me?”

           “I do actually. The Derby’s coming up and I’d like for you to attend.” Tommy explained. “I’ll give you three quid for your trouble.”

           “Not bad for a single event, what’s the catch?”

           “Catch?”

           Kate frowned. “I’m smart enough to know that you’re not willing to pay me three pound out of pocket just for looking pretty at an event. Maybe two pounds but that's pushing it, I think.”

           “Actually, that’s exactly what I’m paying you for.” Tommy cleared his throat and reached for a cigarette. "I can afford to spend three pound on a pretty face."

           A familiar feeling of dread washed over her. “Ah.” She forced a knowing smile. “You mean to use my ‘expertise’ then.” The two stared at each other for a moment. Tommy coming to the realization that there was very little he could do to pull the wool over her eyes. She’d been around the block too many times. “I told you, Shelby, I’ve come to England for a different life. I won’t work as a whore for you, or anyone else. I’ll sooner sit out on the street begging before I go back to that life.”  

           “Apologies.” He said. “I misjudged you.”

           “Apparently.” Kate retorted coldly. “You can find someone else for this job. Once you realize that I’ve given you priceless information, I’m sure you’ll reconsider how you treat me.” She stood up and turned to leave.

           “Wait.” Tommy stopped her before she could get out the door. “I apologize. Forget about this job. I’d still like you to attend the derby, not as a job. Just as a welcome to Birmingham. Once I confirm the information you’ve given me, I’ll give you something proper to do.” He promised.

           Kate studied his face warily but nodded. “Alright.” She agreed. “I’ll attend the derby. But only for the fun of it.”

           “Of course.” He agreed. “Oh, and Kate, wear red.”

           She looked confused but nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was the first time Kate met Grace. She arrived at the derby before Tommy and the woman he was supposedly using in place of her. The bait, so to speak. She spent some time drinking and mingling with anyone who looked interesting or important to her.

           It just so happened she had caught the attention of a man with a red pocket square. He had bought her a few drinks and she’d sent him flashing smiles.

           Clearly, he was important. Sitting at a table with well-dressed men around him, some standing in a protective way behind him. No one ventured too close unless they were invited.

           Before Kate had the chance to make her move, Tommy arrived with a pretty blonde on his arm. He caught sight of her and ushered Grace over. “Kate, enjoying yourself?” Tommy asked.

           She glanced at the woman beside him. “This must be your barmaid.” She surmised by their body language. Close but cautious.

           “I’m Grace.” She nodded and went to shake the woman’s hand.

           Kate obliged. “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you.”

           Tommy cleared his throat, not really wanting to get into the discussion they’d had in France. His relationship with Grace was very new and fresh. In fact, it hadn’t made that leap yet into what Tommy desired. Of course, he was risking it by using her in place of Kate.

           “Made any new friends?” Tommy wondered, steering the conversation.

           “Yes, a gentleman over there.” She pointed out her admirer.

           Tommy suddenly got a spark of victory and hesitation when she pointed out Billy Kimber. “Keen eye.” He said. “Grace, would you excuse us for a moment, maybe grab a table?”

           The blonde looked unsure but nodded. “Okay.” She agreed and made her way through the crowd.

           “Have you spoken to him?” Tommy asked in a low voice, standing close so she could hear him over the boisterous crowd and loud music. "Tell me you haven't approached him yet." He hadn't banked on Kate picking out the exact man he was targeting.

           “Not yet. I’m assuming he’s why you’re here.” Kate could already tell she had some leverage over him.

           “I’m returning some of Mr. Kimber’s money that was stolen from him.” Tommy nodded, relieved that his plan could still run smoothly. “Should be here any moment.”

           “And your barmaid?” She glanced over his shoulder to see Grace lingering innocently.

           He averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

           Kate just scoffed and rolled her eyes. “So, I was right before. You were just looking for a whore.”

           “She’s not a whore,” Tommy replied with a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

           “You’re certainly treating her like one.” She retorted and stood her ground, keeping her chin lifted. “You beat up my manager at the Moulin Rouge, why'd you think?”

           “Because he hit you.”

           “Because you thought what he was doing was wrong. Most men look at the men in charge and think nothing of it. ‘Whores will do as whores do. What’s the problem that some are tryna make a buck off them?’ Now you’re acting just like them.” Kate’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you had feelings for her. Now you’re gonna throw her to the wolves?”

           “This is business, she agreed to it.”

           “I’m sure you know that it’s not what she agreed to.”

           The two stood off for a few more moments before Tommy realized he was losing precious time. Arthur would be there any moment with the money.

           “Your invitation came without an agreement.” He replied. “Enjoy yourself and don’t worry yourself with what I’m doing.” He passed by her to retrieve Grace.

~~~~~~~~~~`

           Kate was smoking from the balcony, keeping her eyes sharp instead of enjoying herself as Tommy requested. Even though she couldn’t hear their conversation, she knew exactly what Tommy was playing as he closed in on the mustached man. Once he sat down at the table with money, the deal had begun. Then Billy Kimber stood up and approached Grace for a dance. It made Kate sick to her stomach. It was like when she was back in Paris. Watching young girls initiated into becoming a dancer. Their eyes were full of light caught up in the whirlwind excitement of the cabaret’s energy. Then a man took her behind closed doors. When she returned, the light in her eyes was snuffed out as if it had never been there in the first place. Kate wasn’t fortunate to see any of the girls gain that light back. She knew she wouldn’t ever find her light again.

��          She’d be damned if she let Tommy Shelby wreak havoc on the barmaid. Mindset, she descending the stairs back to the dancefloor and pushed her way through the crowd. That’s when she noticed Grace and Billy Kimber making their exit.

           “Fuck,” Kate swore and found Tommy still at the table with a man in glasses. She grabbed him by the collar and forced him out of his chair. “You’ve got to be mad.” She hissed.

           Tommy was a bit caught off guard but shook her off. “I told you…”

           “Fuck off, you have no idea what you’re doing.” Kate snapped and went to chase after Grace. “Sar-Sarah!” She called.

           Grace, fortunately, turned around as did Mr. Kimber.

           “Oh, dearest me…” Kate feigned her best British accent and pressed a hand to her chest. “I thought you’d given me the slip, shame on you. You gave me such a fright.”

           The blonde woman looked extremely confused but Billy Kimber was the first to speak. “Who are you?”

           “I’m Lady Sarah’s sister, Lady Anna. I’m afraid I must accompany my sister, she’s younger, you see and I’m awfully protective over her.” Kate jutted out her lower lip as to not appear threatening but instead enticing.

           Billy took the bait and smiled. “The more the merrier, my dear.” He touched her shoulder and guided her and Grace toward the exit.

           Grace was looking to Kate for answers but the other woman simply forced a smile, trying to ignore the churning in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          “You’ve a lovely place, Mr. Kimber.” Kate batted her eyelashes as the man held a hand out for her, helping her step out of the car. It had been her plan ever since she haphazardly decided Grace would be spared. Instead of allowing the pretty blonde to meet with an unwelcomed situation, Kate would throw herself to the wolves. Or wolf.

           “Ever seen a place this big?” He leered at her, looking for praise and affirmation.

           It was all Kate could do not to roll her eyes. Men and their cocks. “Not in my life.” She put on a dainty smile and held out an arm to allow him to lead her inside.

           Grace lagged behind, still unsure what the woman she barely knew was doing. Kate glanced over her shoulder and met her eyes. She simply gave a silent nod of reassurance.

           Kimber led them upstairs to a billiards room where the gramophone was kept. Kate noticed that Grace was subtly glancing at something in her purse. It hinted at something protective.

           A gun.

           Maybe Tommy had armed the barmaid beforehand? It didn’t seem likely seeing as he was aloof with her well being.

           “I’m afraid we didn’t get to dance, Lady Anna.” Billy turned to her once the music began to play.

           A chill went down Kate’s spine and she tried to keep her breathing even-tempered. On the ship’s journey from Paris to England, she’d resolved herself that she would never allow another man to touch her without her consent. Moreover, she would never accept money in exchange for sex.

           Perhaps she was going against her resolution. But to protect a fellow woman? So be it.

           “Oh, I’m so awfully shy.” Kate bit her lip. “Maybe it could just be the two of us for a while? My sister can join us later.”

           Billy looked a little disappointed. The dominant man was looking forward to having two seemingly fragile women under his thumb for two hours. “Well, I suppose that’ll be alright.” He jerked his head toward the door, wordlessly ordering Grace out.

           She looked to Kate; a bit worried about her well-being.

           The other woman nodded again, noticing that Grace left her purse on the billiards table. Not by accident.

           Once the door closed, Kimber closed in on Kate. It was a hauntingly familiar feeling. Her personal space being invaded, the smell of a foreign man’s cologne permeating her senses and leaving her nauseous. He was not unlike other men. He was rough, not playing coy and easing into the affair.

           Kate reluctantly took his hand and stiffly moved to the music with him. His grip was far too tight around her waist and she wanted so desperately to let her defensive mechanisms kick in. She cleared her throat. “Was there any word on when Mr. Shelby would be joining us?” She asked as casually as she could.

           “Two hours, love, it can be just us for two hours,” Kimber growled into her ear. “Or if you’d like, call your sister up as well. Two pretty blondes would be such a treat. You want her to watch me fuck you, or-”

           Kate couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction. Tommy wouldn’t be there for another two hours. Sick to her stomach, she tried to pull away from Billy. Feigning innocence when she realized what she’d done, she tucked a curl behind her ear. “Maybe a drink?” She requested.

           Again, Kimber looked put off. It was clear the man liked being in control of everything. But he begrudgingly let go of her and retreated to the liquor cart by the gramophone.

           While his back was turned, Kate reached for Grace’s purse. As she suspected, inside was a small handgun. It wasn’t too different from the one strapped to her leg.

           “Now where did you say you and your sister were from?”

           Kate froze. She hadn’t been privy to all of Grace’s fictional backstory. “Does that matter?” She tilted her head to the side.

           Kimber turned around with a glass of whiskey. “It’s a simple question, dear.” He moved towards her like a dangerous predator. “Something I think you would know.”

           It was difficult to maintain a ruse when you weren’t in on said ruse. “I-I’d like to get to know more about you, Mr. Kimber.” Deflection was the only weapon she had, that and a bit of touch. She toyed with the lapel of his jacket as he got close enough. “Tell me everything.”

           He chuckled darkly and shook his head. “You are a clever one, aren’t you?” Without warning, he threw the crystal glass over her shoulder, making her flinch and yelp. The glass shattered on the opposite wall, shards clattering to the wood floor. Kimber grabbed Kate by the throat, backing her up against the billiards table. “Don’t you think I know who you are?” He hissed.

           Shaken, Kate grabbed at his wrist in an attempt to get him off. His fingers weren’t tight around her neck so she could speak. “I’ve no idea what you mean.” Her voice quivered. Maybe there was still one more sliver of hope left for the act to be maintained.

           Unfortunately, powerful men were always paranoid at those who would dethrone them. “You work for Shelby, yeah? Or are you just a whore he picked up off the street to try and distract me?” He shouted inches from her face. “What is he up to?!”

           At that moment, the door burst open and Tommy stumbled in past a hand.

           Kimber looked enraged. “What are you doing here, I still have another hour!” He snapped, his face nearly turning red.

           “Wait, just wait.” Tommy cleared his throat and looked to Kate almost searching for the words. “Listen to me, I-I was going to let you go through with it, but my conscience got the better of me. She looks good on the outside.” He swallowed and pointed at her. “But sh-but she has the clap.”

           Kate’s mouth popped open but she didn’t say anything else. Fine, if that’s how she was going to get out of the situation, she could let Tommy have it later.

           “Yeah, syphilis.” He continued as Billy looked disgusted and took a few steps away from Kate. “When you took a shine to her I thought I’d use her. She’s a whore.”

           The word stung more than Tommy probably realized. For a while, Kate had become so numb to it. But when she received what she felt was a new lease on life, she learned to abhor the term.

           “Go wait in the car,” Tommy ordered.

           Nauseated and irritated, Kate grabbed Grace’s purse and stormed out of the estate as fast as she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Grace was already in the car in the front seat. She looked relieved when Kate came out. She opened the door for her, allowing her in the backseat. “Did he hurt you?” She asked.

           “No,” Kate replied in a huff and returned the purse to her. “Thank you for leaving that for me, but I carry my own.”

           Grace took the purse and peeked inside to see the gun was still there, untouched. She wasn’t sure what to say in response.

           A couple of minutes later, Tommy came out of the manor and got into the car. Neither one of them spoke until they were past the gates of Kimber’s property.

           “You carry a gun, why did you let him do that?” Tommy asked.    

           “Because he’s no use to you dead. At least not right now.” Kate replied.

           She didn’t get a reply.

~~~~~~~~~~

           With her bruised ego, it took Kate a few days to tolerate Tommy’s presence for more than a few minutes. Besides, the ball was in his court. He had the leads for America, so it was his turn to act on the information. But from what Kate could gather, the war with the Lees was heating up. There was very little the Brummies would disclose to her. They were a suspicious bunch who were apparently all waiting for Tommy’s all clear. Either she could be trusted or she would become an enemy.

           Still, Kate surmised that there was enough on Tommy’s plate. Too much to delve into more trouble. So perhaps the American leads were set aside for a rainy day. He was the type of man who could hardly go a day without getting into some sort of trouble, after all.

           In the end, Tommy was the one to end the stalemate between them. He arrived at her flat early one morning.

           “Yes?” Kate folded her arms across her chest.

           “Would you come take a drive with me?” He requested with a half-smoked cigarette in hand.

           “Where? Someone else wants to spend an evening with Lady Anna with the clap?” She accused sarcastically.

           Tommy had to have been expecting backlash. He sighed and tilted his head to the gray, dreary sky for a moment. “In fact, we’re going to negotiate with the Lees.” He waved an arm toward the car, urging her along.

           “Why would you want to bring me?” She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. After the stunt he pulled at the derby, she wasn’t keen on taking any open-ended offers from him. She wasn’t sure if he’d learned his lesson yet.

           “It’s nice to have a woman’s touch along. Evens things out.” Tommy replied. “They know I wouldn’t start a brawl with a woman in my company.”

           “You wouldn’t?” Kate raised an eyebrow with a simpering look. “Shocker.”

           “Will you come along?” He requested again, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

           “Go ask your barmaid.”

           “She isn’t exactly happy with me right now either.” He admitted with a grimace. “So if you would-” He gestured to the car again.

           “Four pounds.”

           Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Three pounds.”

           “Three and I get to drive.” Kate grabbed her coat and stepped out of the house before he agreed.

           He sighed and followed her to the car, not protesting when she got in the driver’s seat.

Permanent Tag: 

Masterlist 

[looselucy]

Together

April 21st The Sunday morning sun was sinking into my skin as I dozily welcomed myself to a new day, barely able to distance from slumber before I felt Harry’s hands on my waist, dragging me into his body, kissing the back of my neck, encompassing my frame with his. Exquisite.

It was impossible not to smile, melting into him as he weaved himself around me, moulding my body into the shape he desired so he could raise and fall between my legs, mouth on mine, smile resolute. “Good morning.” He managed to sigh, somehow still smiling and kissing me all at the same time. Lazy mornings with Harry were my favourite thing, and since most days I had to be in the shop at a reasonable hour, they weren’t as common as I’d have liked them to be. I planned on making the most of it. “Morning.” I returned. He pushed his body against mine with force, practically wrapping his hands around my neck as he deepened the kiss, his throat homing heavy moans that made heat tingle all over my body, reaching to cling onto his hair, pushing my hips up to his. I was still trying to come to terms with just how smitten I was for him, the way being with him felt. Even in the relatively short space of time things had been going on between us, I felt like so much had happened and we’d gone through so many changes, experienced so many uncertainties and questions that I still hadn’t had that many moments where I could just feel it, take it all in and enjoy it for exactly what it was with no doubts or pretences. Since he’d come back from New York, all those things I used to worry about and fret over weren’t really there anymore. I’d never felt so settled with him, so sure. As his hands moved down to my chest, his lips moved down to my neck, working his way down my body and working me up with ease. I could feel his morning glory; how hard he was against the inside of my thigh as he reached between our bodies to touch me, feel how wet he’d gotten me by doing so little. His middle finger separated from his others to push into me, his teeth now against my collarbone, smug against my skin when I moaned. I could sense his excitement, his impatience. He quickly added a second finger and began crawling his mouth back upwards to mine, his eagerness already making him breathless. I was grinning when he hovered his mouth over mine. “What?” He quizzed. “I like it when you get all restless like this.” “I’m not restless. I’m totally poised and in control.” He knew full well he was lying, holding back his smile. “As ever.” “You get restless.” “Rarely.” “Often.” I giggled briefly before lowering my voice as a memory entered my mind, kissing his neck as I spoke. “I remember the first time you kissed me. The way you just grabbed onto me, pulled me into you. Restless.” I took his dick in my hand, my touch gentle as I caressed and positioned him, wetting his tip between my lips. He was shaking, eyes closed, lips parted. “You lost control that first time in your gym. The way you touched me, kissed my neck… it was like you couldn’t help yourself.” I whispered. “It’s you.” He told me, slowly swirling his hips. “You do something to me, I lose my fucking mind.” “Show me.” He thrust into me with strength the second I’d said that, cursing to himself before diving in to kiss me again, his fingers snatching onto my hair, so intense and impassioned. Every move felt forceful and yet completely delicate. He kept grunting, gripping onto every inch of me he touched so tightly, introducing a number of emotions that were hard to contain. Sex with him was so beyond anything I’d experienced before. It had always been the best, even from the very first time I’d been able to tell, but it didn’t ever seem to stop getting better, and maybe that was a combination of the things he did, how well he knew my body, how well we knew each other and how much we cared for one another. It was so addictive, being like that with another human being. “Fuck.” I whimpered, utterly overpowered by what he was doing. “Oh my god.” My words jammed against his lips because he wouldn’t stop kissing me, clearly as obsessed as I was. His pace was perfect, his touch heavy as he put his hand beneath my chin and pushed upwards, my neck bending backwards beneath his command. “I’m obsessed with what you do to me.” He was panting, his brows creased as he concentrated on the strength behind his hips. “Fucking restless.” I was gasping, so turned on by him and his actions and his words that I lowered my hand and started touching myself just to elevate the moment. He managed to tear his mouth away from mine, propping himself up with one arm as the other reached to grab my leg, hoisting it upwards to suspend lazily it over his shoulder, able to gaze down my body and watch my fingers work against my clit. There was something about morning sex that I loved; the thought of waking up beside him and his first thought being me, his first desire of the day was to be intimate with me, as close as he physically could be. We’d barely had time to wake and yet the instinct was too strong to ignore. That feeling was electrifying. I could see a sweat forming on his chest, relentless with the pure power of his body, able to show his strength in so many ways. I could feel my leg begin to shake as I neared my orgasm, seeing how Harry bit his lip as a reaction to my shuddering, clearly satisfied to see me crumble before his eyes, my moans getting louder and louder until the moment hit, when I silenced, my mouth wide open, hardly able to comprehend a thing other than Harry cursing as he watched me. I fell weak, struggling to even keep my eyes open but reaching up to feel at his body, place my hand against his abs and feel the wave that travelled through his body. “Fee, m’close.” He grunted, his voice broken by how hard he was fucking me. “I’m-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, my leg moving and his body practically falling on top of mine as he came, groaning against my neck as his hips pushed as far as they could, as deep into me as he could be for his ending. I wrapped my arms around him as soon as I had the strength, hearing and feeling him attempting catch his breath, nuzzled into my neck and snuggling himself close as though I was cradling him. I was smiling to myself, laying my chin against the top of his head, trying to decide whether I’d ever really woken up fully or if he’d exhausted me so quickly I was craving more sleep already. That was how I wanted every Sunday morning to be.

I was sat with my legs crossed on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, watching him as he waited beside the boiling kettle, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. “Yeah.” He mumbled, sounding relatively positive. “M’just not in a place where I wanna sell it right now, but the rest can go. I don’t wanna come back to New York any time soon, you can open my gallery without me there. But… I dunno, at a push I can do Paris for a few days if you need me to.” He was talking to the man who helped him sell his paintings, who had made sure that Harry’s work featured in galleries across the world. Harry had been building up the courage to break the news that he didn’t have any intentions of painting anything new for some time, and I think we’d both been expecting the call to be a rather nasty one. From the one side of the conversation I was hearing, it seemed to be going a lot better than we’d anticipated. “Yeah, I know what you mean, but it puts me in a bad place and at the minute… I feel like I’m in a good place for the first time in years and I wanna keep it that way. I’ve got so many pieces though. There’s so much we can sell.” He waited for a response. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. And if anyone asks… make something up. Say I’m in a creative space and I’m thinking up some new stuff, I dunno. I don’t want people to think I just churn stuff out anyway, y’know what I mean?” From the sounds of it, how widespread his work was, how renowned, how profitable, it seemed to me that Harry could disappear and not produce new work for years and not only live comfortably that way, but also return however he wanted to and take his work in a completely new direction and people would still swarm to see what he’d done. He’d made a name for himself, and his work would always gather interest. I suppose that was a perk of the kind of job he had, it was rather difficult to fall out of interest with his critics once they’d already taken such notice of him, such admiration in his work. “Sounds good. Alright, speak soon.” He hung up the phone quickly, placing it down on the counter and finishing off our drinks. “So?” I asked. “How’d it go?” “Fine, he’s fine.” He smiled. “He kinda thinks that me stopping for a while might drive up the prices of the stuff I’m selling now anyway, so… he seemed alright with it.” “That’s good!” I beamed. “So everything’s fine?” “I guess so.” I hadn’t been expecting elation, but maybe a little more enthusiasm than he was actually showing. When it came to his painting, when he moved to Rosebury he’d closed the door but kept it slightly ajar, leaving the idea of going back to it still in sight if he was to peer far enough. But with speaking to his agent, I imagined he felt as though the door was finally fully closed, and I didn’t know exactly how he’d feel about that. I turned my head to look into the conservatory where his easel was, how the curtains were now wide open, like he didn’t have anything to hide anymore, like the shame had gone and he was ready to be open. He may have just closed the door, but the curtains were open. That meant something. “We should paint today.” I turned back to him. “What?” “I wanna paint with you.” “Fee-Fee, I don’t-” “No blood.” I said quickly. “It’s important to you, I know it is. It doesn’t have to be serious, it doesn’t have to… hurt. Let’s not think anything of it and just… paint.” His eyes went to the floor as he thought over what I’d said, and then quickly he walked away from his spot, coming to stand himself right in front of me, looking up to my face as I reached out and stroked down the side of his waist, smiling as encouragingly as I could. He put his hands on my waist in return, pulling me a little closer to him, my legs soon falling off the side and landing either side of him. “Well what do you wanna paint?” He asked me calmly. “Whatever you want. You’re the expert. You can show me the ropes.” He pulled me closer with a quick yank at my legs, making me squeal into the kiss he forced upon my lips, soon taking my weight and raising me to rest against his body, carrying me from my spot over towards the curtains, towards the room where he kept his work. I wrapped my legs and arms around him, kissing him throughout the short journey, my hands locked in his hair, humming against his lips. “You’re amazing.” He grinned once we were in the room, his dimples a work of art themselves. “Okay, let’s paint. I wanna paint with you.” I gave him one last peck before I unwrapped my legs and dropped to the floor, my cheeks bright red as I watched Harry begin to mess around with paints he wanted to use, listening closely to the way he controlled his breathing, forcing swells of gathered air outwards to try and calm his nerves, wrap his head around what we were about to do. But even with that, I could sense he felt good about it. I’d half expected him to turn around and completely reject my idea but he hadn’t; instead he’d embraced it, thrown himself into it. I wanted him to see that he could still paint, even if it wasn’t professionally. I wanted him to paint for no other reason than the fact he loved to paint, with no other attachment at all. As he gathered a few things, I approached a large piece he had propped up against the window, a relatively thin rectangular canvas that stretched right from the floor to above my head, covered in oranges and yellows and reds, the paint protruding the canvas, some parts appearing sharp to the touch. I stroked my fingers down the grooves and pillars of paint he’d created, closing my eyes to take in his work through touch alone. There was a vast array of beauty right beneath my fingertips, work that would be celebrated but hadn’t been seen by the public eye, but it was right there, mine to touch and devour and admire. It was an oddly overwhelming experience, and that was even before I bolted my eyes back open, realising the likeliness of blood being a texture underneath my touch, whipping my hand away quite quickly. After a few minutes of cherishing my moments with the piece, I felt Harry’s arms wrap around my waist, his lips low on my neck. “This is beautiful, Harry.” “Thank you.” He whispered. “You can have it, if you want.” “What? No. No, I don’t-” “Take it.” “No… I- Thank you, for the offer, it is beautiful but I don’t-” I turned myself around so I was facing him, taking his cheek in my hand. “I don’t want anything that came from you being in pain.” He nodded almost timorously, kissing me passionately for a few seconds before sighing his next sentence. “Okay, let’s make something good.” He smiled. With another kiss, he led me over to the blank canvas on the easel, placing me right in front of it. I started cringing instantly. “Oh god, no, don’t make me do it.” “You said we should paint!” He argued through laughter. “This was your idea!” “But now I’m here… Maybe I meant more like… you paint, I watch, you tell me what you’re doing, that kinda thing.” “C’mon,” He placed a brush in my hand. “Show me what you’ve got.” “I’ve got nothing!” I screeched. “Do you realise how intimidating this is? You’re literally a famous painter, I can’t just start painting, I feel embarrassed.” “You are adorable and absolutely ridiculous.” He came and stood himself beside me. “Alright, I’ll take the left and you take the right side of the canvas, okay?” “Oh great, so the left side will be beautiful and the right side will be… a stick man.” He blurted out an ugly laugh, tucking me into his side for a few seconds and kissing the top of my head before he went back to his position, moving the palette and paint tubes so they stood on a small table between us. “Don’t even think about it.” He instructed. “Don’t try to… paint anything specific. Almost like… free-association. Okay?” “Okay, I’ll try.” “M'gunna go get us some fresh water for the brushes. You should start us off.” “That cuppa tea wouldn’t go amiss either.” He went off into the kitchen, leaving me alone staring at the canvas before me, unsure how to start, but more than anything I wanted Harry to paint without pain, and if that meant me attempting to make art then it was an exceptionally small price to pay. I picked up a small tube of yellow paint, twisting the lid off and then using it to pierce through the aluminium, squeezing a small amount out onto the palette so I could start. I’d managed a single stroke before Harry walked back into the room. “Holy shit, it’s a masterpiece.” “Y’know what, Styles, I’m not doing it.” I sulked and laughed, throwing my paintbrush down onto the ground, adding another colour to the wooden floorboards, yellow landing beside blue and red splatters of paint he must have left long ago, within his first few days or weeks of living in Rosebury before he stopped completely. He placed the three cups he had in his hands down, grabbing hold of me and pulling me into his body where I hit him sweetly in the stomach, his laughter practically electricity propelling through my veins. It was nice that we were already having fun with it, that something that could have been driving his mood down was this relaxed thing, exactly as I’d wanted it to be. “I bloody hate you.” I huffed. “Hm, I’m pretty sure you don’t.” He took my chin in his hand, lifting so I had to look right up at him. “Will you please paint with me?” “Only if you’re gentle with me.” “Always.” He smirked with his voice low, hypnotic. And so we painted together. We started rather carefree, silly, the two of us poking fun at one another, but that didn’t last. Rather quickly the mood became calm, somewhat solemn, where we weren’t even talking but simply painting side by side, fuelled by the noise of the nature around us, the views and the ambiance that was naturally created by such an artform and such a setting. Every now and then, he’d give me advice, explain a technique he was using or ways in which he loved to paint, but other than that the experience was a quiet one, a profound one. After some time I stopped adding to the canvas and let Harry take complete control, and I just watched him. I pulled a stool from the other room and sat at his side and simply watched him work for hours. It was fascinating, captivating, stunning to witness. Harry seemed almost reflective, somehow; not quite sad but certainly not happy either. It must have been strange for him, but regardless he kept his calm and created a new piece of art, unfinished but enough, because this piece didn’t have blood within it, it wasn’t connected to his pain and his suffering. This piece was new, and at its heart it derived from a place of positivity, fun and futility. And I was lucky enough to be a part of it, a few messy strokes of paint belonging to me.

“She was so funny, I wish you could have met her.” I smiled. “Well… met her properly. Before she was ill.” “I know what you mean.” It was late, and though we’d been in bed for hours we were too wrapped up in each other to even attempt to sleep, for it to even be a thought. We’d started talking and barely been able to stop, prying each other open further and further. I lay on my stomach wearing a baggy t-shirt of his, right against Harry’s side where he lay on his back in nothing but his boxers, his head slightly propped up by the pillow he’d slanted against the wall behind his bed, his thumb gently stroking up and down my neck. “I guess that’s one of the things that makes it so hard when she gets… angry, like she does now. She was such a loving woman, she never got angry. My dad always had to be bad-cop because it was like she didn’t even know how.” “I can’t even imagine Robert Hunter being bad-cop.” He chuckled. “I know! It’s ridiculous.” It was nice to be talking about her in such a light way, and what made it even easier was the way Harry was looking at me, how I could tell he was interested and invested in every single word I was saying. “You must miss her a lot.” “I do. All the time. I thought maybe it’d get easier with me seeing her again, but… I guess there isn’t a way that this could ever be easy, y’know?” “Mm.” “But she’s well looked after and she’s got everything she needs, so… I suppose it’s as good as it can be. And y’know… we had such a good life with her, I’m grateful for that.” I played with the lobe of his ear. “I’m also grateful for you and what you did bringing her here last week.” “You’re never gunna stop thanking me, are you?” He grinned. “Maybe after a while. It’s only been a week, I’m not over it yet.” “You’re too sweet.” He flustered. “C’mere.” I shuffled upwards so I could kiss him, feel his smile against mine, only able to lose myself in the embrace for a few seconds before something snapped us cruelly out of the moment. It was a sound, seemingly coming from downstairs. The sound of glass shattering. The two of us bolted our heads towards his bedroom door despite the fact it was closed, too shocked by the noise we’d heard to actually make any sense of it. “The fuck was that?” I gasped. He pushed me away from him, throwing himself up to his feet and grabbing his dressing-gown from the floor. I rushed to follow him, leaping out of bed and grabbing onto his body as soon as I could. “No, Harry please don’t!” “I have to go and see what’s going on.” He whispered harshly. “Please stay up here, I’m scared. I don’t want you to get hurt, please.” He ignored me, reaching for the handle and cracking the door open. I had tears in my eyes, shaking as he tried to listen out for more sounds to gather what was going on downstairs. We heard the glass again, like the broken pieces that had been fashioned seconds earlier were being stood on, moved around. I grabbed hold of Harry’s hand. “Please-” “Alfie, I have to.” He heaved. “I can’t just stand here.” “Call the police!” “There’s only a handful of police in Rosebury, I might as well deal with it myself.” “Then I’m coming with you.” “What? No, I need you safe.” “But-” “Stay here.” He hissed. “If you’re going, I’m going with you and we face it together. I’m not letting you go on your own!” I cried. I think he knew I wasn’t going to back down. I didn’t want to go and see what or who had broken the glass downstairs, but if Harry was going, there was no way he was going alone. Sighing, he nodded, altering our hands so I wasn’t merely grasping onto him, but so that our fingers intertwined, holding my hand and squeezing as tightly as he could without hurting me. We steadily walked out of his room, Harry remaining in front of me as I followed fearfully behind, slowly realising that the one thing that was now worse than hearing the sounds downstairs was hearing absolutely nothing. The silence was sickening, and I wanted to stay as quiet as Harry was as we tiptoed towards his stairs but I couldn’t hold in my tears. He made a very conscious effort to keep me behind him as he we took to the stairs which creaked beneath our feet, likely not loud at all but the sound piercing my ears as we turned the corner. Those seconds felt like hours. Just as Harry was about to land on the bottom step, a hooded figure walked out of his living room and into the hallway, right in front of us. I screamed the very second Harry let go of my hand, detaching in an attempt to tackle whoever it was who’d broken into his home, but they attacked before he could. The figure swung their arm with force and struck Harry right in the face, followed by a quick blow to the stomach, winding him so his body crippled over and they could force their knee up to smash against his face. It had only taken seconds of frozen fear, tears and wailing before something in my body completely switched, in agony over seeing Harry getting hurt and attacked like that. I snapped. Without a second thought I leapt down the stairs and hit the stranger, using every ounce of my strength and every lesson Harry had taught me to throw my fist into their face, pain shooting from my knuckles up through my arm the second I collided with them. But it worked. They stumbled backwards, almost falling completely, which was the perfect opportunity for Harry to gather himself, realign his body and leap again, grunting furiously as he heaved himself forward and gained control of the situation, backing them against the closest wall by their throat. I staggered forward still, clasping at my wounded knuckles, watching the situation unfold. I saw the moment Harry stilled, every inch of his frame seizing up. I saw the moment of realisation hit his body as he stared directly into the face of the person who’d broken into his home. His voice was quiet as shaky when he muttered his next word. “J-Jack?” It was his brother. It was Harry’s brother. “Get the fuck off me.” He huffed, shoving Harry by his chest. In a state of shock, Harry stumbled backwards, eyes wide. I repetitively darted my head back and forth between the two of them, wishing I could cradle Harry and protect him from everything that was happening. I could see it messing with his head. I could see in his eyes how scared and shocked and hurt he was by the sight of his brother. Harry shot his arm to the side, spreading his hand and indicating he wanted me to join him. I ran to his side, taking his hand, but once again he forced me to stand behind him. Jack sniggered at the sight, pulling his hood down to show his face fully. “This your girl?” He asked, then spoke directly to me. “You’ve got a fair fucking punch on you, I’ll give you that.” “Jack, what the fuck do you want?” Harry asked. “Why’re you here?” “I knew you’d be here. Sentimental little prick like you.” He rolled his eyes and his shoulders. “I knew you’d be in mums house.” He was terrifying. Something in his voice and the way he held himself made me glad to be hiding behind Harry’s back, peeking just past his arm to get a good look at Jack. Other than the bruise developing beneath his eye, I didn’t like what I saw. “What do you want?” Harry asked again. On each occasion I’d seen Harry get aggressive or angry, he’d been poised alongside it, strong and confident and unyielding. That wasn’t the case this time around. It was his own brother but I could feel and hear his distress, his fear diminishing all his confidence. I couldn’t even begin to imagine just how bad things had gotten, how traumatic his brothers’ violence had been. “To see you.” “You don’t have to break into my house to do that.” “You’d slam the door in my face and you know it. Thought I might as well cut out the middleman.” “THEN WHY HIT ME IN THE FUCKING FACE?” Harry barked. He just started laughing, like it was all a joke to him, like he couldn’t even understand why Harry was reacting how he was. “You don’t think you deserve it after what you did to me?” Harry didn’t have a response to that at all; I could feel him deflating but all I could think was how his brother was manipulating this situation where he’d broken into Harry’s home and attacked him, twisting it and turning the guilt around on Harry. It was disgusting. “Get out.” I spoke up, letting go of Harry’s hand, marching towards the front door. “Fuck you, get out.” “Shut the fuck up.” Jack spat at me. “Make another noise-” “JACK!” Harry yelled. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” As quickly as my nerve had arrived, I lost it, or more like Jack destroyed it; I was haunted by his words, his voice, and though I’d wanted to be strong and force him out of there on Harry’s behalf, he’d stopped me from feeling as though I could do anything at all, be strong in any way. Harry followed my steps, once again placing his body before mine, because despite everything, protecting me still seemed to be his priority. Jack had his eyes on the two of us, and once again I started crying. I couldn’t stop looking at him. “Harry, please make him leave, please.” I whispered as quietly as I could. “Jack, I think you should go.” Harry grumbled. “I didn’t come here for no reason, Haz. We need to talk, you know that.” Harry went quiet again and I knew he was considering it, regardless of everything that had happened and the way Jack had forced himself back into his life. And truthfully, I could hardly blame him. Jack was the only glimpse of his family that Harry had, his only chance to rebuild something that had shattered years before, the fragments cutting him so deep he’d never truly been able to heal. But I didn’t trust Jack. I didn’t trust him at all. I squeezed Harry’s hand, trying not to tremble so much and trying even harder not to keep crying. “Fine.” Harry sighed after some time. “But you need to change how you’re approaching this whole thing or you’re out.” “Whatever.” He huffed, sulking back through to the living room. “Let’s talk then.” Just as Harry was about to take a step in the right direction, I held him back, crying heavier now that Jack was out of sight. He clasped his hand against my cheek, rested his forehead against mine. “It’s fine. I can handle this. I can fix this.” “Not with him.” I blubbered. “Please-” “I have to try, Fee-Fee. I have to.” He kissed the tip of my nose, stroking over my skin and staring into my eyes before I closed them and said it; I said what I’d figured out, what I’d seen when I stared into his brothers’ eyes, when I’d heard his voice and aligned his demonic aura with a memory of mine. Months and months of aching and discomfort had lead up to that moment of realisation, but I had no idea just how awful it would be to finally have an answer. “Harry, it was him.” I wept. “It was your brother that attacked me last year. It was him.”

[bootyassnodt]

Can I have Risotto x female reader Nsfw dub-con :3 Also if you write about kinks can you add breeding kink & size kink please if not it’s okay. Also reader is a Squadra member

Is it getting hot in here? Thank you for the lovely request, dear Anon, it was a pleasure to write! Risotto Nero is a man of many kinks and talents, and I would love to explore him further in the future. I hope you will like this piece! (Trigger warnings for dub-con, breeding kink and size kink)

Distraction (Risotto Nero x fem!reader)

When you got into Passione, you started working in a finance team, doing some paperwork, some laundering here and there, occasional transactions to nonexistent businesses in far countries. It only made sense, as you had experience as an accountant, and your family was in debt. You liked your job, it was mundane enough and easy to talk about in family gatherings without them being suspicious that you were working for the mafia.

You were never supposed to witness an initiation test gone wrong, neither black out for days from an unbearably sharp pain in your stomach right after, but you did. You were never supposed to gain a stand only suitable for killing, hell, you weren’t even supposed to learn about stands at all, yet here you are, 3 months later, as a full blown member of La Squadra Ezecuzioni, nervously waiting at your capo’s door, after he asked for a meeting.

When you were assigned to Risotto Nero’s team of hardened assassins, you were positive that you got the opportunity of a lifetime. The work itself didn’t really bother you, it was just a job after all, and you enjoyed the privileged position belonging to this team gave you. Working for the Boss directly, while running with a gang of such experienced and attractive men was something you thought you would only see in movies. The capo himself seemed equally enthusiastic about your arrival at first. A young, small framed, almost fragile woman with a stand as deadly as any of his men’s had piqued his interest, and he was quick to announce that you will train directly with him in your first weeks. This only made sense, as Prosciutto was training Pesci with full attention, despite the latter’s questionable talent, Sorbet and Gelato were a package deal, and the others preferred to work alone, and honestly, none of them would have been suitable for the task.

However, Risotto’s behaviour towards you seemed to change after two or three weeks, and you couldn’t help but notice, how impatient he was getting with you, snapping at you for more and more insignificant things every day. Move faster, wear more camouflage, don’t bend over like this, don’t wear your hair like that, it’s no wonder that you were getting frustrated and messing up more frequently.

Today was no different, he just stormed out and left you alone with the target, and you were trying to figure out what you did wrong during the painfully long way back to the base you both spent in complete silence. Once back, you slid between Illuso and Formaggio on the sofa, and eased yourself by putting your legs up on one’s lap, and your head on another’s, when Risotto suddenly slammed his fist on the coffee table and sprung up from his favourite chair.

- My office, in fifteen minutes - his eyes almost burned a hole in your skull. - Don’t you dare to be late.

The silence was suffocating after he stormed out of the common area. Your teammates exchanged some looks, but when you started eyeing them pleadingly, they all seemed to find something very interesting on the floor. Speaking of the floor, you wished it would just open and swallow you wholly. You were sure that you were about to be fired, or even worse, and the others weren’t of any help either, so you decided to get over with it, and left the room without a word.While it felt like time has stopped altogether, you were sure it was exactly 15 minutes when you heard a metallic click from the lock, so you took a deep breath and entered the room. The office, if we call it as one, was dimly lit by that one table lamp with the clouded glass, that stood on Risotto’s desk in the far end from the door. You almost let yourself smile, as you were still amazed by how Risotto used his terrifying and dangerous stand for everyday things.

- Come here. I don’t have the whole night for that.

Your capo didn’t even look up from the papers and dossiers in front of him, but you could tell, that he was even more tense than usual.

- It cannot go on like this - he started in a low, cold voice.

- What exactly?

- Oh you know what exactly! - he barked out loud and jumped up from his chair at the same time. - The way you behave on missions… Damn, you are making it impossible to focus, and I’m sure you do it on purpose. Today, I had to leave the scene, because of you. That is not how we work here! - He stressed every word in the last sentence.

You couldn’t decide if it was a joke at first, but when your surprised expression made him boil with anger even more, you understood that he was dead serious. His booming voice sent shivers down your spine, but most parts of you were genuinely scared as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you.

- With all due respect, capo, if it’s so distracting to work with me, why don’t you just pair me up with someone else? - you didn’t even try to hide the trembling in your voice anymore.

- That is not an option. I don’t want my men to look at you and feel the same during missions.

He lowered his voice to almost a breathe as he towered over you, uncomfortably close. His smell of cologne and musk, with a slight hint of iron and whisky already filled your senses, causing a tingle all over your skin. You finally met his eyes, and while shifting your weight from one leg to another, you wondered if it was always this hot in the office. You tried to figure out his emotions from his piercing crimson gaze, but Risotto Nero was not a man too easy to read. You swallowed loudly.

- So… you want to fire me?

- No - he said firmly. - I want to fuck you.

 Your feet stuck to the ground, your eyes widened in surprise, and you didn’t want to admit it, but the pooling hotness in your core almost made you consider his offer. Except that you knew that it wasn’t an offer.

- This is not what I signed up for - you turned around to reach for the doorknob, only to hear the familiar click of the lock. 

Risotto put his hands on the door beside your head, blocking all ways of escaping. You didn’t even notice before what a giant he was compared to you. You knew you were already defeated.

Sleeping with your direct superior is unprofessional at best, and has grave consequences at worst. Yet still, it would be a lie to say you haven’t thought about it. You lost counts of the nights when you were tossing and turning unable to sleep, thinking about his body, all those hard muscles under the leather attire, with his name escaping your lips among soft moans, as you were touching yourself while fantasizing about him using his immense strength against you. A part of you knew that this is exactly the situation where you could make those wet dreams come true, yet you tried to keep reminding yourself how this is a terrible idea. 

Your overthinking came to a sudden end when Risotto’s lips aggressively crashed against yours, immediately forcing his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you hungrily, and understanding how much he has been holding back before, you gave up all your defenses. Your pulse was echoing in your ears, and the throbbing between your legs begged for his touch only. Your body betrayed you, and you returned the kiss with a passion matching his, making him let out a lustful groan when you bit his lower lip.

Breaking the contact for a second, Risotto looked up and down on you with eyes full of hunger and need, and caressed down your sides, making you shiver under his touch. You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were, and how tiny you felt compared to him. This man could easily break you, in more ways than one, you realized when your eyes caught on the huge bulge in his striped pants. He noticed your concern and smirked.

- I am not going to hurt you - he assured, then leaned close to your ears to whisper. - But don’t you dare to forget, that I could if I wanted to.

With that, as if he sensed that you couldn’t go on with teasings only, Risotto hooked his hands under your thighs, and lifted you up to his level, running your skirt up your stomach in the process. With your back against the door, you immediately clutched your legs around his waist, even though he could easily support your weight with even one hand. Your lips joined together once more, this time slower and deeper, but he soon broke the kiss to explore your neck, your earlobe and your collarbone, leaving marks and bites on the way. The first, carnal moan left your lips as he started grinding his hips into yours, his straining erection against your soaking wet underwear giving you the friction you craved. Risotto broke the trail of kisses on your neck to whisper in your ear, his voice low and raspy from lust.

- You know I’d love to try out that smart little mouth of yours, to watch you kneeling in front of me, pulling your hair while you are sucking on my cock - your eyes rolled backwards, and you got dizzy visualising his words, feeling your heartbeat in your center. You almost started begging for him to put you down and use your mouth as he would please, when he continued. - But I cannot wait any longer. I want you now.

And then, Risotto drove one of his huge, strong hands to your aching core, caressing you through the soft fabric. He tried to pull the underwear aside, but if he was just half as hazy from the lust as you were, it made sense how he just got frustrated with it instead. With an annoyed grunt, he grabbed the soaked thong, and ripped it off you with one, practised flick of his wrist. You were way past the point to make any remarks, or protest when he used the same hand to free himself from the restraint of his pants. The tip of his rock hard cock touched your entrance as he gave himself a few good strokes, and you inhaled sharply when he pushed inside of you with one, swift motion. Risotto cursed under his breath between low grunts, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything else besides the new feeling of being stretched out more than you have ever been before. When he slowly started moving in and out of you, you couldn’t help but imagine how visibly your stomach could be bulging from his huge member. This thought sent more chills right down to the forming knot in your stomach, and you unwittingly clenched your walls around his cock. Risotto took this as a sign that you got used to his sheer size, and he started thrusting faster, setting an aggressive pace, while he resumed ravaging your neck with his lips, tongue and teeth. The thought of having bruises from him, being marked by him turned you on even more, if that was possible. With his strong hands cupping and squeezing your ass with such ferocity that you knew will leave a print, your capo started moving your body up and down along his length, like you were weightless, like you were nothing more than his personal toy. Now it was your time to go for a kiss, and you savoured every moment of your tongues chasing each other, while muffling your moans and heavy panting. Your head was spinning, as you were getting closer and closer to the edge among the obscene orchestra of your laboured breaths and sweaty skin slapping together, when Risotto suddenly pulled you away from the wall and approached the other end of the room, his cock still throbbing inside you.

- I changed my mind - he groaned, sweeping all paperwork off his desk, and gently laying you on its stead. 

He easily moved your legs up to his shoulders, and with your thighs flat against your chest, he started plunging into you deeper than you thought it was possible.

 - I want to make you all mine, and mine only - his breathing got more ragged, his pace got faster with the rhythm falling apart more and more at each thrust, and while you were trying to savour the sensation of being used by someone of his size, you knew that he was also getting close. When you thought you cannot take it anymore, he reached between your feverish bodies, and started working your clit with his thumb.

- I want to put a baby in you - he hissed in your ear. - I want to fill you up to the brink with my seed a million times, and even more if that’s what it takes. I want to see you bearing my child, as you will bear all other marks of my love. I want you to know who you belong to. Do you understand?

Risotto knew all too well, that you wouldn’t be able to answer his question. His cock relentlessly ramming into you and his proficient fingers drawing shapes between your overstimulated folds would have already been enough for you to come undone, but his words finally sent you over the edge. The hotness forming in your stomach now spread across your whole body, making you lose all your senses for seconds. You had no idea how loud were you screaming his name as you let your orgasm wash through you with your back arched, and nails digging into his skin. You regained your sight and hearing just in time, when he started rutting into you even faster, until all his muscles tensed up, and he finished inside you with a deep, animalistic groan. Just as he promised, you could feel the ropes of cum filling your inside, with your walls still tightened around him until he rode out his climax before collapsing on top of you.

You spent the next minute or so in the same position, looking each other in the eye and panting heavily, trying to soak in the sensation of what you just did. When your breathing steadied a bit, he pulled himself out of you, after placing a surprisingly soft kiss on your forehead.

- Don’t move - he said in a warm tone, with a tired but reassuring smile. - Otherwise it was all in vain and we have to start over.

- Yeah, that would be terrible, I better not risk that - you smiled back as he scuffled to the other end of the room for some paper towels.

You were not supposed to sleep with your capo, let alone lay spread out on his desk, watching the ceiling, his cum still seeping out of you after moaning his name so many times as if it was a prayer, and so loud that it surely didn’t go unnoticed by your teammates. Did you mess up any of the important dossiers of the next missions? Did you mess up your reputation as a hitman? You couldn’t care less. You were the pretty little fucktoy of your capo, and hopefully soon the mother of his children as well.

[imaginesbymk]

well this is new.

The Maze Runner One Shot

Summary: the reader comes out as bi to Minho

Pairing: Minho x Male!Reader

A/N: it has been a year and 3 months since i came out as bi. it’s something that was itching me for a while and it had affected my mental health around my friends and my school so the plot of this one shot was something relatable and based off me.

Y/N STUMBLED ALONG the path toward the bonfire where the sounds of boys’ laughter, banging drums and fire cracking grew louder each step he took.

Winston caught his eye and he noticed his sleeves were rolled up a bit so half the toned skin on his arm was exposed. Y/n originally asked the council to place him a job as a slicer in the Bloodhouse, but only because he really enjoyed the works of the Keeper himself, but he had an itching feeling on the real reason why.

But then came the option to work with Gally. The boy smirked knowing he’d have fresh meat joining the builders and someone new to be tough on, but Y/n declined the offer despite how great the opportunity would be to gain muscle and to watch his fellow gladers work around him.

There was Teresa who really took a soft liking to Y/n, and for some reason he let her do so. There were times where they were just talk and stare at each other for a couple of moments until turning their heads. He had taken comfort in having a girl around him and made him feel noticed.

Thomas slaps Y/n on the shoulder. “You all right?”

He nods. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Of working in the gardens with Newt?” Thomas chuckles. Ah, yes. Let’s not forget Newt. His accent really caught Y/n off caught the first time they had met. 

Y/n smiled smugly. “Yeah. Your back hurts like hell.”

“You guys walk so slow,” the voice that really took Y/n’s breath away was as clear as day that called them over from the logs near the bonfire. 

Minho.

Y/n noticed it the instant he saw him enter through the safety of the glade from the maze walls. His head was down and his face was drenched with sweat. The sudden feeling was so new to him as he has met new faces and had the feeling they were all experienced with romance and were involved in something deeper. The adrenaline was all too real, and he felt it whenever he saw Minho. Or Winston. Or Teresa.

The image Y/n pictured in his head of being with such a boy like Minho was quickly put to rest when Thomas spoke up. “Why should we keep up with a runner who runs every day?”

“Hey! Remember when you tried running? You face planted,” Newt stuck his tongue out, letting out the loudest laugh.

The night mixed of crowded laughter, brawl circles. moonshine and Y/n just . . . being mostly quiet the whole time unless he really felt the need to speak up. 

His friends including Minho gathered near the logs to eat the fried foods Frypan had prepared for everyone. Minho sat across from Y/n, which gave him a better view up close. But it wasn’t until that one person had to bring up the topic of dating at such a place like this.

“And why didn’t you make a move on Teresa?” Winston laughs at Thomas.

“Why didn’t you?” Thomas demanded.

“’Cause she likes you, dude!” he faked sobs. “Man you survive the maze after pulling the dumb card and fate rewards you with a girl!”

“But Y/n seems to have his eyes on her. You got some competish-”

Y/n’s head jolted up as soon as his name was mentioned. “Uh-”

“Oh really?” Newt cocked up one eyebrow.

“W-well I-I mean, yeah sure. She’s pretty.”

“You’re hanging in there, Y/n?”

“I mean, she is sweet like candy but Thomas can have her. It’s just . . .” Y/n trails off, staring over at Minho. 

“Y’all want some more bacon?!” one of the chefs calls out, unintentionally intervening with the conversation, and some sort of life saver. The boys get up, except for Y/n, who stayed put at the log.

Minho noticed one Glader didn’t join the rest and he steps backwards to their spot. 

“Okay, cut the crap. What is it?” He bends down on his knees so he could see his face.

Y/n looked both left and right, making sure everyone was too busy with something else to hear their conversation, and he looked up at the runner. “I, um . . . I’m bi.”

The look on Minho’s face was something Y/n would never forget. He raised his eyebrows and smiled a bit. 

“Well, this is new.”

“Yeah,” Y/n huffed, playing with his food. 

“Well there’s nothing I can do about that, now is there?” Minho slaps his shoulder. “I think it’s great.”

Y/n smiles. “Thanks, Minho.” 

Minho chuckles. “Now get your ass up before all the bacon is gone.”

THE END

[shannie-writes]

Soft and Sweet (Zero/MC)

A/N: Here I am back on my bullshit again. Please enjoy this canon divergent fic for Zero’s Clash in Cradle epilogue, this time in his POV. Because I need more Zero kisses.

------

She was so soft.

Zero already knew she was, in more ways than one. Her voice, her smile, her hands. He had experienced them all before, in previous interactions with her. He had had a hint of it a few hours before when he had held her in his arms and she had clung to him, arms around his neck in fear. But now that the hunt was over and he had time to relax, it was presented to him in full force.

She was on his back, so close he could feel her chest rise and fall with each breath, the soft curves of her breasts and stomach pressed to him. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands bracing her under her knees. Her skirt was rucked up around him and in the fleeting moments the skin of her upper calves brushed his fingers, he felt overwhelmed. It didn’t help that her mouth was so close, the air from her nose brushing over his neck and cheeks in a simple caress. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t say a word as he carried her to the Black Bridge. He was nervous that his voice would break, would reveal too much of how he felt in that moment.

She fidgeted, moving her arm further away from his injured shoulder. He smiled to himself. She truly was such a kind woman. He’d had much worse than this kitten scratch. Through school, through training, through skirmishes and battles. His shoulder throbbed under its wrapping and he knew he would need Kyle to take a look at it when he got back to headquarters. But for now, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Her weight and her warmth that enveloped him more than made up for it.

She shifted again and her breath tickled over his ear in a silent sigh. “I’m sorry, Zero. I must be getting heavier for you by the minute. I’ll be fine to walk from here, really.”

Zero frowned. She had no business walking on an injured ankle and they still had quite a bit of distance before they hit the Black Bridge. “You’re actually really light,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. She was but a cloud in comparison to the heavy swords and other equipment he carried day to day.

She hummed in disagreement, but fell silent again as he continued to walk along the main road that cut through Central. Residents were starting to come back out from their homes and go about their final business before the sun set for the evening. Zero watched as a pair of children chased each other with sticks, their giggles trailing behind them. They were about the same age as...

The memory of her jumping in front of the circus tiger to protect the little girl was still too fresh. The mental image of her being torn apart and broken had been too real in that moment he had rushed to her aid. He really couldn’t blame her for doing what she had. He would have done the same. He had done the same. And everything had turned out alright in the end. He shouldn’t have gotten after her as harshly as he had. He knew she had been crushed by his words, tearing up and looking at the ground as she had apologized.

His steps slowed and he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you.” He felt her stiffen on his back and he adjusted his hands under her legs to compensate. “It’s true what you did was dangerous and reckless, but,” He turned his head to look at her, the wide-eyed look in her eyes making him smile. “It was also very brave.”

“Zero,” she whispered. He felt himself melt a bit, at the way his name sounded coming from her lips. She glanced away, cheeks pink. “It wasn’t brave at all. It was dumb and you got hurt because of it.”

Zero faced the road again, ignoring the throb in his shoulder at the mention. “I’m a soldier. Getting hurt is part of the job description.” He knew what he had been getting into when he joined the army and he had proved himself for his position many times over. While today’s event was definitely unusual, it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. “So you don’t have to try to hide your pain to make me feel better.”

“What?”

He thought back to that moment in the square where he had seen her limping, face pale and telling him she was fine. Obviously she wasn’t, and knowing that she of all people would put a brave face for him? He couldn’t bear the thought of her hiding from him, putting his feelings above her own well-being. “When you’re hurting, I don’t want you to pretend to be strong. I don’t want you to smile and tell me you’re okay.”

She was silent for a moment, her fingers clutching to his shoulders. “Well, I could say the same thing to you!”

“What?” He was slightly shocked by her outburst, his feet going still.

“When you’re injured, it hurts, but that’s just as true for you as it is for me, right?” She lightly tapped on his arm over the makeshift wrappings, her voice petulant. “And don’t try and tell me that you’re fine with being injured, just because you’re an Ace.”

He thought about it for a moment. He had told himself all this time that is was his duty to handle the pain that came from his commitments as a soldier. But...was there a possibility that she was as worried for him as he was for her? It was a dangerous train of thought, but he couldn’t write it off, not just yet.

“I suppose you’re right.” He glanced back to give her another smile before making a little hop, securing her onto his back and moving his fingers under her to hold her tighter, their skin slightly sticking together where the soft skin along the bend of her knee met his wrist. Starting to walk again, he did his best to keep his heartbeat calm at the sensation, swallowing to try to wet his dry throat as she sank further into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Zero, thank you for saving me.”

He couldn’t manage more than a hum, his thoughts running away from him now that he had talked out his immediate concerns. And with her hair tickling his neck and her breath warming his skin through his jacket, he couldn’t resist the pull of attraction, wanting this moment with her in his arms, pressed close enough to feel her heartbeat, to last forever.

But that was too much to ask of her, wasn’t it.

Shortly, they reached the edge of Central and the Black Bridge rose into sight. Getting closer, he saw a carriage waiting just outside, surrounded by Black Army soldiers. Wanting to get as close as he could, he kept walking until he could see the regular guards at the bridge waver, placing their hands on their weapons at their waists.

“Well, this is as far as I go,” he sighed, moving down into a crouch and releasing her from his grip. As she stepped off, he immediately missed her warmth, the soft breeze blowing it away from his back and leaving him cold, despite the heat of the near-setting sun.

She stepped next to him as he straightened, finding her balance. Looking up at him, she smiled, though something about it seemed off. He narrowed his brow, giving a glance to her ankle.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes. It isn’t so far.” Her gaze slid to his arm. “How about you, will you be okay?”

“I’ll have Kyle look at it when I get back to headquarters.”

She seemed to relax at that, nodding. A silence spread between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Perhaps, he thought to himself, she wanted to stay just as much as he did. Her eyes wandered over his face, as though to memorize his expression and he smiled as he did the same.

A flicker of determination crossed her face and before he could analyze it, she took a step forward, reaching up to place her palm on his cheek, lifting onto the toes of her good foot to press a quick peck to the curve of his jaw. Startled by the surprise kiss, Zero watched her with wide eyes and was surely blushing as she took a few steps backward, toward the soldiers waiting for her.

“Thank you, Zero. I’ll see you next time?”

He opened his mouth and closed it twice before finally being able to squeeze out a simple “See you then.”

Her smile was bright as she turned and made her way toward the bridge, one of the soldiers meeting her partway to help support her and lift her into the carriage. And despite the distance, Zero could sense her still watching him even as the carriage rolled along and crossed over the bridge.

Once the carriage was out of sight, he lifted a hand, grazing his fingers over the spot that had been touched by her lips, soft and sweet. It wasn’t much, but the heat that radiated from it had his heart pounding and his thoughts filled with her smiling face.

Turning and making his way back home in the final rays of light, he did his best to organize his thoughts. Maybe, if she wanted, he would send her a letter and ask if she wanted to meet up sometime for lunch. Something healthy, something that would help her heal quickly. He touched his cheek again, unable to resist from smiling. Yes, just to check up on her.

[leximpwrites]

Seeker 1

The first part of my current project! Please bear in mind that this is still a work in progress, and these may or may not be the final versions. As always, feedback is appreciated and encouraged! Also an fyi, these chapters will probably average between 1,500 and 2,500 words each, so I’ll be sticking them behind page breaks. Also just so you guys know what you’re getting into. Lol

@officialleehadan​ @kitvinslakte​ @nox919​ @dierotenixe​ @stuck-in-theclouds​ @gyvorn12​ @apenvssword​ @wildforestferret​ @krceramics​ @starsdreaming​ @wordsdreaming

The musical ringing of a sword clearing its sheath is actually the first sign of trouble, though to be completely honest, I'm really not paying attention to the rest of the bar. I'm intent on the map in front of me, and the places the owner is marking on it. 

I turn to look over my shoulder and see three toughs, blades drawn, facing off against a pair of personal guards who are escorting a young noble boy, and who is currently hiding behind them. 

"Ye spilled mah drink, ye stupid cur!" snarls the largest of the three. He has the rolling burr of the mountain tribes to the north, and a face only a mother could love, nose clearly having been broken in three places, several ugly scars, and a large wart on his left cheek. 

"Back off, commoner!" the older of the two guards growls back, a short sword in one hand, a long knife in the other. He has the air of an experienced fighter, and I would bet good money on him being able to handle any two of the three in front of him without too much effort. "I'm no fool! You were trying to lift milord's purse!"

"Liar!" the northerner yells, and lunges forward. 

He doesn't even get close.

I'm always impressed with how quiet my apprentice can be when he has a mind to. Even I'm slightly surprised when Jax seems to materialize out of nowhere behind the three thugs. He catches the leader almost out of midair, and tosses him halfway across the room. The thug lands on a table, which was never made to take that kind of abuse, and crashes to the floor. Before the other two can react, he grabs each one by their collars, and slams them into each other. Stunned, they collapse in a heap on the floor.

The situation dealt with, Jax looks up and catches my eye, before smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, sir."

"No, good job, Jax," I tell him approvingly. I turn back to the barkeep and hand him several gold regents, and then several more. "These are for the mess and table, and those are for the information." 

He bobs his head gratefully and pockets the coins. "Thankee, Sir Seeker," he says with a genuine smile. "You an' yours are always welcome 'ere." 

I nod my thanks and signal to Jax to pick up the two at his feet while I retrieve the northerner from the wreckage of the table. The young noble and his two guards take that as their cue and quietly slip out the door. I make a mental note of the house sigil on one of the guards sleeves. I’ll pay them a visit tomorrow and make sure the boy is alright. It never hurts to cultivate goodwill amongst the upper class.

"We'll drop this trash off at the Guard house on our way back to the barracks," I say, both to the barkeep and to Jax, before we turn and head outside. It's raining lightly, typical for this time of year, and it rouses the three miscreants from their semi-conscious daze. They struggle briefly, dismayed to find themselves in the custody of two Seekers. I keep a close eye on them, wary of any tricks they might have. A hidden blade, or some other unpleasantness.

"So, what did the barkeep give us, sir?" Jax asks, shoving the two men ahead of him roughly as we head down the stone street. Imperial Engineers are truly masters of their craft, the road paved with broad, triangular stones.

"Some good, solid information, and a worrying pattern," I tell him, retrieving the city map from the belt pouch I had stuffed it into. The bartender had marked a number of spots, and I point them out. "Look at the number of sightings there have been in just this district alone."

"What do you think, a nest?" he asks after looking it over, sounding a little nervous. Sometimes I forget that despite his size, Jax is still a lad. 

"Most likely," I reply as we round a corner and spot the Guard house up ahead. The soldier on duty salutes us smartly, and hands our prisoners off to one of his subordinates after we explain what happened.

I resume our conversation once we head back out into the rain. "Probably a new queen in the catacombs under the city trying to stake out its territory."

I suppose I should introduce myself before we get any further into my tale, huh?

My name is Zepara Alchanic, and I, along with my apprentice Jaxus Luteno, are Royal Seekers currently stationed in Throne City, the capital of the Human Empire. 

And what are Seekers, you ask? We're monster hunters. Damn good ones, too. Tailor made for our job through a series of alchemical and magical transformations called The Proofing. It gives us the physical traits we need to fight monsters, and years of training gives us the skills.

Sometimes, in my darker moments, I wonder just how much we give up to become what we are. 

But usually, I feel the trade is worth it. I am very good at what I do. Technically my oath is to serve the Eternal King, but I see it as less loyalty to the crown, and more loyalty to the nation and its people. My job is to hunt down and destroy monsters that threaten the lives of everyday citizens. 

But back to my tale. 

I give Jax's shoulder an encouraging pat, despite the fact that I have to reach well above my own head to do it.

 "Don't worry, lad," I say, careful to keep my tone light. No need to worry the boy. "Even a full nest isn't much of a threat to a pair of Seekers who know what they're headed into. Just stick by me, remember your training, and you'll be fine." 

That seems to lift his spirits, and he nods, then begins studiously checking over his gear. I watch him for a moment, making sure he’s doing it properly. Satisfied he’s going about it just as I taught him, I follow suit. A Seeker relies on their gear. If your gear fails you in a fight, you’re dead, pure and simple.

Taking on a shade nest would actually be a good challenge for Jax, now that I think about it. He’s been progressing well since I became his mentor four years ago, but he tends to underestimate himself, and it holds him back a little. This will be a good way to show him what he can really do, and give his ego a healthy boost in the process. 

We finish our gear-check just as we reach the entrance to the underground portion of the city. There are thousands of miles of tunnels, galleries, and cellars under Throne City.

Originally it was just the mines under the dwarf fortress-city that is now the Imperial Palace, but over the centuries each generation dug their own underground portions and linked it into the already existing network, The end result of that, of course, being a complex labyrinth of truly staggering size. 

It can be very, very easy to get lost down there. 

I dig out a key that every Seeker is given when they complete their training. It gives us access to places like this. I unlock the steel gate that bars the stairwell down, and lock it behind us once we're through. We have to bend almost double to fit, as these ceilings were not designed with a seven foot Seeker in mind. Twice I hear Jax mutter a curse behind me as he bumps his head on something, and I have to bite back a laugh. I might be having a hard time, but the poor boy must find it almost unbearable. 

It isn’t long before we reach the bottom of the steps, and I straighten gratefully, in what appears to be a storeroom for one of the restaurants or inns above us. The walls are lined with sacks, crates, and barrels filled with various foodstuffs, all neatly organized and clearly labeled. 

I sniff the air, catching the rotten-meat stink of our prey almost at once. I hear Jax doing the same a moment later, and I nod my approval when he points down a nearby passage.

"Over that way, I think," he says, and grins when he sees me nod. We draw our paired ton-filar, heavy long-bladed fighting daggers with brass knuckles built into the grip, and a short four inch spike at the other end. They’re vicious weapons, specifically made for close in fighting, and designed to give us as many ways to hurt an enemy as possible with a single implement.

Most Seeker gear and weaponry is designed this way. It gives us an edge. And believe you me, when you're fighting the kinds of beasties we do, it always comes in handy. 

We move off in the direction of the scent, careful to keep our blades up before us. The passageway is narrow, so Jax leads the way, and I follow closely, walking backwards to make sure nothing tries to sneak up on us.

We continue down the tunnel, following our noses, until it opens up again into another wide room. The smell is horrendous, and I hear Jax gag a little. 

"Breathe through your mouth," I advise him. "It helps."

I scan the room, taking everything in all at once. Trash, rotting food, and less identifiable detritus litter the floor, and the far corner of the room is buried under a mass of reeking filth that rises to the ceiling. I curse myself for not thinking. As soon as they hear my voice, shades come pouring out of the nest, chittering angrily, eager for a meal.

Shades aren't big, about the size of a cat, and aren’t especially threatening. They look like a hairless rat with an odd, bird-like head. They're not even hard to kill. A good solid kick from a normal human is enough to put an end to one. 

The problem is, there's never just one. 

They breed fast, in clutches of seven or eight, every three weeks. They carry disease, and spread rot wherever they go. Nobody knows how they came to be, but we know that dark magic spawned them, because all our monster hunting tricks work just fine. 

"Grenades!” I snap, following my own advice, withdrawing one from the belt pouch I keep them in. 

Grenades are expensive kit, but absolutely priceless when dealing with swarms of creatures like shades. A small sphere packed with gunpowder, enclosed within an outer sphere of cold iron plated with silver, and the space between the two filled with a mixture of rock salt and holy water. 

We light them with a flick of the thumb against the special alchemical fuse, and then toss them into the middle of the pack. They detonate with a surprising level of force for such small weapons, shaking some dirt loose from the ceiling. Between the explosion, holy water, and rock salt, dozens of the little beasts vanish into puffs of dirty smoke. Dozens more are killed as shrapnel scythes into the massed bodies.

The remainder of the pack, their numbers thinned by the grenades, rush us. Jax and I spin around each other, years of training giving us the skill to fight in such a tight space against a swarm of enemies. I skewer a pair on my ton-filar, turn, and catch another mid-air in the chest with one of the pommel spikes. Jax ducks around me and punches down the two that are trying to leap on me from behind, and boots another in the face when it tries to bite at him. It careens back into its fellows and takes them down in a tangle.

With a chattering shriek that makes us both wince, the queen and her nest guard emerge. 

Easily three times the size of their smaller fellows, the nest guard are huge, slavering beasts with glittering red eyes, long, sharp beak-like mouths, and wicked claws. The queen is even bigger and nastier, her belly swollen with her current clutch. 

"Blast her!" Jax calls, and I nod, quietly impressed. We whirl with skill and speed that no human could hope to match, as we trade blades for the coach guns, safely secured across our backs. Jax's is the typical, blunt-nosed, over-under variant favored by most Seekers. 

But mine…

Mine is a work of art. It was a gift, made for me by the master weapon-alchemist Argius Cratona of Wavedancer, after I rescued his daughter from a lich during my apprenticeship. It has six barrels, twice the length of a standard coach gun, arranged in a circle around a single larger barrel at the center. The steel barrels are polished to a mirror shine, and ornate, curling scrollwork is etched into each one. The solid cherrywood grip and stock is chased with brass and burnished to a deep, warm glow. The gun's name, Sophia, is inscribed on a small brass plate embedded in the stock.

It has three triggers. The first two are tied to three of the six outer barrels each, so that a single trigger pull fires three bursts of cold iron and silver shot at once. 

The third trigger goes to the center barrel, which fires a specially made bullet created by Cratona. Called a Decimator Round, it’s a solid slug of cold iron coated in silver, and infused with powerful alchemical compounds that detonate once inside a target. Every month he sends me a box with thirty of the hefty, hand-sized shells, along with notes from him and his daughter. I’ve kept a steady correspondence with them both over the years, and never once in all my time as a Seeker has Sophia failed to kill the monster it was aimed at.  

But I digress. 

We fire together, then fire again, the booming report of our guns thunderously loud in the enclosed cellar, filling the far side of the room with a blizzard of shot that tears the queen and her guards to bloody shreds. Jax and I deftly snap open the breeches of our guns, ejecting the spent casings and replacing them with fresh, though I take a moment longer due to the extra barrels.

Silence descends for several long minutes as we wait to see if any more shades come out of the darkness, but either we had killed them all, or the remaining few were smart enough to scatter.

"I think we're done here," I decide at last, holstering Sophia, and Jax follows my example. I wave for him to follow, and head back the way we had come. "You did good work back there, Jax, very well done. I'm impressed."

Jax ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "Thank you, sir, but I only did what I thought was best."

"Which is exactly what you should do," I tell him firmly, with a smile. "You acted as a Seeker should, and I'm proud of you. You have solid battle instincts, and you don't have any lack in terms of skill. You've learned everything I've taught you so far, and learned it well. You do me credit as your mentor, and yourself as a Seeker."

Jax is left speechless. I stifle a small twinge of guilt. Perhaps I’ve been a bit sparse with praise up until now. Well, that can be fixed easily enough. 

"Come on, lad," I say, ducking low to head back up the stairs. "Let's go get something to eat. I would say we've earned our supper tonight."

[skylanders-after-the-end]

Destination Destiny

Gearshift, Smash Hit and Knight Light were in the middle of a journey through a barren wasteland. The robotic Trap Master was sitting next to the Supercharger in his enormous Thump Truck, which was excellent for such a terrain, while the angelic knight soared alongside them.

“We should reach our destination in approximately twelve minutes and thirty-two seconds.” Gearshift delivered her inhumanly precise calculations as usual.

“Wow, this really is like having a navigation system!” Smash Hit never interacted with the Tech Skylander before, yet he was pleasantly surprised by her behavior. “Gearshift, tell me how many fries I can fit in my mouth!”

“Zero. Because telling you the answer to such a nonsensical question is not part of the mission. Thus, I will not count a single potential fry.” Without the blink of an eye, Gearshift silenced the warsupial and left him disappointed.

Knight Light snickered as he spread his wings further to keep himself in the air. “She may be a highly advanced robot, but she has a mind of her own. She’s a Skylander after all.”

Smash Hit sighed. “Guess I’ll have to find out myself then.”

The trio soon arrived at Molekin Mountain. Ever since the Skylanders’ visit during the time when Kaos tried to claim the Fist of Arkus, the town has been quite peaceful. The friendly molekin greeted the Skylanders cheerfully as they entered the town.

“What’s the deal here? Everything seems fine to me.” Knight Light asked his companions since he, once again, simply tagged along and had no idea what the mission was about.

“A resident molekin can help us get to the all-knowing Oracle, which can tell us where the Golden Queen is located.” Gearshift carefully scanned the area looking for said molekin.

Smash Hit leaned his head past the tall robot to look the equally tall knight in the eyes, or mask in that case. “To keep it short – we ran out of ideas.”

“This hunt really seems to have no end.” The Light Skylander grumbled and wondered what he would do once they finally found the villainess. “Maybe it’s for the better.”

Keeping their eyes peeled and asking around, the Skylanders were looking everywhere for the molekin known as Barnsy. Unknowing to them, some dark forces nearby were lurking and waiting for the right moment to disturb the peace in the rocky town.

Meanwhile at the Academy, Spyro was conversing with Boom Bloom and Wild Storm, who told him about their latest mission and the horrific ambush they experienced. The leader nodded and dismissed the Senseis, before Star Strike floated up to him.

“Spyro, if I’m not bothering, could I talk to you for a second?” The alien has been passively concerned with the current problem that the Skylanders were facing and recently had an idea.

Spyro took a deep breath and tried to take his mind off the information he just received. “Please don’t tell me you saw more possessed people trying to kill you.”

“…No.” Star Strike said to Spyro’s relief. “About that though, I thought there might be a way how we could solve that problem more easily, or at least prevent worse things from happening. Same goes for the Golden Queen situation.”

“I’m listening.” Even though there was a lot to do, Spyro was willing to hear his fellow Magic Skylander’s suggestion.

“You already know about the Book of Destiny.” Star Strike began, which immediately sparked Spyro’s interest, as he’s always been very intrigued by the mystical artifact. “Even though we can’t access the Interdimensional Realm anymore, we came up with another way to get to the book.”

“We?” Spyro was confused since only Star Strike was present.

Out of nowhere, Enigma, Déjà Vu and Mysticat appeared next to cloaked being through magical entrances, making Spyro jump up in surprise.

“You seriously need to stop doing that!” The dragon breathed heavily while the mist and sparks the magicians created faded away.

As soon as Spyro was back on his feet, Enigma began to talk. “We may not be able to get to the book directly, and not in this moment.” He glared over to Déjà Vu who nodded confidently. “But we know where and when it was, and we can use our combined magic to get us to the exact place and the exact time when it was there.”

Spyro wasn’t quite sure if he understood everything. “You’re suggesting we travel through time and space?”

“Exactly.” Mysticat answered. “Enigma’s teleportation, Déjà Vu’s time manipulation and my illusions, we can project ourselves right in front of the book and read it.”

Spyro needed a moment to process everything and make sense of the sorcerers’ plan. “And where exactly was the book?”

Everyone looked over to Star Strike, whose head sunk after hearing the question. “My home.”

“We can only perform this spell for a very short time and in a limited space.” Mysticat explained further. “All we can do is look into the book.” The feline has heard of the alien’s wish to return home, but he made it clear that there was no way she could even see her old planet during this procedure.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s read that book!” Eager and full of new hope, Spyro dashed off. He didn’t even know where he had to go, but he assumed that it would have to be somewhere more private.

“Who knew that Spyro was such a bookworm?” Déjà Vu joked as they followed their leader.

Traversing through the long and dark tunnels the molekin have dug over the years, the Skylanders were on their way to the top of Molekin Mountain, looking for Barnsy. Smash Hit made a short stop at a store with rock candy, a specialty in the area. Little did the Earth Skylander know that those were actual rocks rather than candy.

“Did you know that molekin eat rocks?” Smash Hit was rubbing his left cheek to ease the pain after biting one of the minerals. “Whirlwind won’t be happy about my second visit this week.”

“How do you always manage to turn every excursion into a comedy show?” Knight Light giggled and looked down on his short ally who rolled his healthy eye.

“I just like to explore places. Discover new things, y’know? As a Skylander you barely have time for that stuff.” Smash Hit was happy with his job, yet at times he felt overwhelmed by the quick pace and stress of the missions. “If you asked me, we would never have to find the Golden Queen, I love travelling to all these places!”

“Yeah, I guess there’s a good side to all of this.” Knight Light on the other hand preferred when there was a strict schedule. Not only due to the current pressure from his former superiors, but he has always been the proactive type to get out there and fulfill his duty. “And this Oracle, it can tell us anything?”

“Everything.” Gearshift corrected the Trap Master. “The Oracle, also known as Octavius Cloptimus, is an all-knowing being. It will be able to answer all of our questions, which is exactly what we need in this time of uncertainty.”

The team was quiet and only the sound of their steps across the dry rock ground could be heard. “Do you think it can tell me how many fries I can fit in my mouth?”

Knight Light laughed as Gearshift stopped and turned around to look at her allies. She stared at Smash Hit, coldly, without moving an inch. The Skylanders thought there was a malfunction until she finally opened her mouth. “It can.”

When the robot turned back around, Smash Hit clenched his fist triumphantly and exclaimed a silent ‘Yes’.

The trio has reached the circular stone house of the molekin in question. Gearshift knocked on the small door before ducking down to the point where she was nearly on her knees and entering. Knight Light did the same but struggled with getting his wings through the entrance. Smash Hit on the other hand only had to bend his head down to enter. Inside the small building, the taller Skylanders cowered next to Smash Hit, looking at Barnsy, who was standing in front of a window with his back turned towards the heroes.

“Barnsy, we’re sorry to intrude into your home like this, but we have an urgent mission and require your help.” Knight Light spoke to the small creature who kept staring out the window. “If you could-”

Gearshift grabbed the angel’s arm to stop him. “Something is not right.” She fixed her eyes on the molekin and inspected him.

They all looked at Barnsy, waiting for him to show a reaction, until he finally turned his head to reveal a pair of lifeless black eyes.

The male Skylanders gasped while Gearshift proceeded to roll backwards and out of the house before making her Traptanium gear appear. While Smash Hit swiftly followed the Trap Master and Knight Light once again had to squeeze his wings through the door, the molekin unleashed terrifying screams. Looking across the town, the Skylanders spotted all of the molekin running in complete panic and fleeing from their homes. Before they could interfere, a gigantic figure landed right in front of them and blocked their path.

The team slowly moved their heads upwards as an enormous shadow covered them. “Oh boy.” Smash Hit gulped and hesitantly pulled out his chain and boulder, while Knight Light flipped his wrist to make his scimitar appear.

The undead dragon Malefor towered over the three who appeared like mere toys compared to him. The dragon grinned before opening his sharp mouth and spitting a spectral flame at them.

In the Magic Realm, the most mystical location nearby the Academy, Spyro, Star Strike, Enigma, Déjà Vu and Mysticat have gathered to perform the spell that would lead them to the Book of Destiny.

“And you’re sure this will work?” Spyro was still a bit skeptical. “There isn’t anything dangerous about this, right?”

“It can only become dangerous if we separate or someone interrupts the spell.” Enigma was observing his Traptanium sigil to make sure everything was in-tact. “We get there, take a look at the book and come back here.”

Star Strike was awfully quiet, she seemed to be lost in thoughts. The alien knew that she couldn’t get back home through the spell, yet she was hoping that there could be an exception. Just this once.

“Then we can begin.” Mysticat summoned his staff and prepared himself.

The three sorcerers formed a circle around Spyro and Star Strike. They all held their respective staffs and recited a spell in unison. The weapons began to glow and each of their powers combined created a magical pattern on the floor underneath them, which the two Magic Skylanders watched in awe. Suddenly they were engulfed by a purple fog which was spinning around them like a hurricane. Even though the wind was tearing at them mercilessly, the magicians stood strong without interrupting the spell. Spyro began to feel dizzy when he saw lights flashing all around him and he felt like he was rushing at lightning speed. It was a sensation he has never felt before and all of his senses were overstimulated. It felt like his head would explode any second. All of a sudden, it stopped. The Skylanders opened their eyes and found themselves in a small house with book shelves covering every wall. In the center was a podium. A pillar of light coming from above lit up the many golden accents of the giant brown book on top of it.

“This is it.” Spyro was about to step closer when he saw that the sorcerers were still holding their staffs tightly and focused on keeping the spell up. Star Strike was by his side, but that wasn’t enough. “Uh, guys? If you don’t mind, maybe one of you could take a look as well. You said there should always be multiple people looking into it to see more outcomes.”

“Right.” Enigma grunted and had to hold himself together to keep the spell up. “Can you two manage on your own?” He looked over to Mysticat and Déjà Vu who were just as tense as himself.

“I can freeze the spell for a moment, that will give us some time. But you’ll have to hurry.” With those words Déjà Vu lifted her hourglass above her head which emitted a blue surge of time energy. The timelord could move freely now and look inside the book as well, but Mysticat had to keep the illusion up. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t worry about me. Go ahead.” The feline reassured them of his ability to hold everything together for some more time.

“Alright, let’s do it.” Enigma joined Spyro’s side while Déjà Vu stood next to Star Strike.

The four Skylanders approached the book until they were standing in front of it, yet nothing happened. Before anyone could speak, the artifact swung itself open and the pages shot from one side to the other. They could see everything. Glimpses of the past, pictures of the present and visions of the future. The book was overwhelming for anyone, they had to focus to only see the future. Star Strike however looked up for a moment and lost the visions. Instead, she set her eyes on a window. A small, unimportant window that allowed her a look outside. Her home. It was right there, she could finally see it again after so many years. While the others were busy with the book and Mysticat closed his eyes to concentrate on the spell, the alien removed herself from the group to float towards the window. She was like hypnotized, she could not control her movements. She knew that they shouldn’t get separated, but she only wanted to take a small look. The Magic Skylander didn’t notice that the window was outside of the magical circle, so she would have to get out of it as well.

Meanwhile the Book of Destiny kept skimming its pages. The Skylanders were beginning to see a bigger picture. Golden Queen, Malefor, Kaos, all enemies they knew and that were still out there somewhere, trapped or not. It showed more figures, blurrier this time. Figures that seemed familiar, yet they couldn’t recognize them. And then the book stopped. All eyes were set on a page which was flooded with sentences and words. They couldn’t make out anything. They stared at it for a few seconds until the scribbles began to move. The letters shifted and fell into place and they could all make out a singular sentence.

“An alliance destined to destroy”

Mysticat briefly opened his eyes just to see Star Strike reaching out for the small window and nearly exiting the circle. “Star Strike, no!”

The Sensei interrupted the spell, and everyone was caught in a storm of magic before reappearing back in the Magic Realm.

Star Strike’s arm was still stretched out. Once again, she reached for nothing, it disappeared before her very eyes. She was disappointed but quickly realized what she did and turned around. She was expecting to see furious faces, but instead was met with confusion.

“An alliance destined to destroy…” Spyro repeated the only sentence he could see. “You all saw that, right?”

Enigma and Déjà Vu nodded. “What does it mean?” Enigma could only think about the mysterious message.

“That sounds like a riddle even I cannot solve.” Mysticat joined the discussion. “I’m assuming it’s a warning that our enemies will join forces.”

“We know the Golden Queen’s out there, and Malefor is free. Could it be…” Déjà Vu was afraid to think of what could happen if those two villains decided to team up.

“Then it’s better if we don’t find out.” Spyro was curious as well, but he wouldn’t wish for something like that in even his wildest dreams. “We have to take down every last villain, all of them.”

As the Skylanders were walking away, Star Strike kept staring at the spot where she saw the window moments ago. Her home was so close, yet so far. She started to wonder if she would ever be able to return.

In the midst of the battle at Molekin Mountain, another flurry of spectral flames was homing in on the Skylanders. Gearshift backflipped to avoid the incoming attack. She then split her gear in half and started kicking parts of it at the undead dragon as it was spiraling around her body. Malefor protected himself with his wing before violently flapping it to shoot the parts back. Smash Hit and Knight Light tried avoiding them, but got hit nevertheless.

“There’s no way we can defeat him, he has an answer to everything!” Knight Light attempted to rise back into the air after his wing took a hit but struggled to do so.

“We have to target his weak spot, he always protects his face and chest!” Smash Hit, who already figured it out, grabbed his chain and swung his mighty boulder at the dragon with full force. Malefor jumped up into the air before he could get hit and slammed back onto the ground, creating an earthquake.

“If we don’t get him out of the city, he will destroy everything!” Knight Light stressed the others and started looking for some way to lure Malefor away, but the dragon had no intention of changing locations.

“Foolish Skylanders, you think you can protect those puny molekin? You can’t even protect yourselves!” Malefor inhaled deeply before unleashing a dangerous trail of fire at the Skylanders.

Knight Light acted quickly and grabbed Gearshift and Smash Hit to fly them out of harm’s way. He couldn’t carry them for too long and crashed on an island nearby. “What are we supposed to do!?”

“We cannot terminate him, due to his resurrection powers. The only way to temporarily defeat him is by handicapping or trapping him.” Gearshift knew what had to be done, but even she didn’t know how.

“Hex already tried that and look what happened!” Knight Light became more frustrated with each passing moment, feeling like they would have to retreat and thus fail the mission.

Soon Malefor spotted the Skylanders and began attacking them again. Any counter seemed pointless so all they could do is evade his blasts and hope for nothing else to be destroyed.

Smash Hit grew tired of that strategy and decided to step up. “Hey, you big old raisin! Over here!”

The insult made Malefor give the warsupial a death glare and he headed towards him. That’s exactly what Smash Hit wanted. Before the dragon could attack, the Supercharger tossed his boulder right at his face and used his chain like a whip to bring him down. He jumped onto Malefor’s leg and furiously smashed the metal plates covering it, trying to do some damage. Malefor, not feeling a single attack from the small hero, simply flipped his wrist and tossed the Earth Skylander back on the ground before turning around to strike him with his tail. Smash Hit was thrown right against a rock, leaving some cracks upon impact. He let out weak moans of pain before falling onto his knees and finally laying on the ground. Malefor grabbed the boulder with the bare tips of his claws and dropped it right next to his owner.

“What are you supposed to be? A warsupial with a simple boulder and a chain? At least your friends have something to offer.” Malefor interrupted his speech to strike down an incoming Knight Light and keep Gearshift at bay with his fire breath. “You’re pathetic. Just like the dirt underneath you, you are nothing. Another worthless pawn of the Skylanders that will fall under my power.”

Smash Hit tried pushing himself back up but failed each time, and Malefor’s insults didn’t help. He felt weak, useless. His attacks had no effect, and he was taken out by a single hit. Meanwhile the two Trap Masters kept on fighting and couldn’t be shaken off as easily.

To the Skylanders’ surprise and relief, Malefor went into a more defensive state and didn’t attack them anymore. Underneath him, a bunch of mindless molekin with the same black eyes as Barnsy appeared and went after the Skylanders instead.

Knight Light was quite baffled to feel a small creature jump onto his back and tear him down. He grabbed the molekin and tossed it to the side, trying not to hurt it. “What’s going on? Why are they all like this?”

Gearshift had already reconnected her gear and instead of attacking, she simply created weak shockwaves that kept the corrupted molekin from getting close to her. “Undead magic is capable of turning any creature into an obedient monster that will follow their tormentor’s lead.” The Skylander’s eyes were turned to Malefor, who smiled upon seeing the angered heroes dealing with the horde of minions.

Then, when they least expected it, Smash Hit saw someone familiar in the distance. He had to squint his one working eye, which still had a blurred vision, to make sure it was who he thought it was. The other two Skylanders looked at him and then into the direction he was staring at and were shocked. “Hex?” the warsupial thought he was hallucinating.

The witch just finished turning another molekin into one of her monsters. Like always, she only transformed half of the town, while the other half had to hide and in the worst case kill or get killed by their corrupted friends. She looked over to the Skylanders, seeing faces of disbelief, as well as Gearshift’s ever so neutral expression. The wind in the area made her horns and dress wave, giving her a ghostly appearance.

The next thing they knew Malefor flew past Hex, making her disappear from the spot she was just in with his departure. The dragon was gone, and so was the sorceress, leaving nothing but a destroyed town, countless corrupted molekin and three speechless Skylanders behind.

[im-fairly-whitty]

Taken - A Frozen Oneshot

Thinking about how messed up it is that Kristoff is literally abducted by trolls as a child and we see only a few seconds addressing it and none of the repercussions. Decided to fix that by showing behind the scenes and shoveling on a big dose of real troll child stealing/changeling lore.

  “Henrick, please, Kristoff isn’t old enough to go out with the ice cutters, what if he’s taken by-”

“Ida, so help me you’d better not say trolls.” Henrick said, his voice getting a little gruff and sharp as he yanked on one of his boots.

He didn’t like arguing with his wife, he wasn’t like some men he knew who always tried to cow their spouses into submission, but they’d had this particular conversation so many times.

“He’s only eight, Henrick.” Ida said pleadingly, one hand on Kristoff’s blonde head as the boy held onto her skirts, watching them both with his big brown eyes, “He doesn’t even have a name that could protect him.”

“He has a proper Christian name.” Henrick said, shoving his foot into his other boot, “If you’d had your way he would have been saddled with some superstitious nonsense like “Hiccup.” I swear it’s like you want to curse the boy yourself, keeping him inside all day, never letting him out of your sight. He’s not a little girl, he’s got to get out with the men and learn his trade, I’m not letting you keep him cooped up indoors learning how to cook and knit and wear dresses.”

“I like cooking, I don’t mind!” Kristoff said brightly.

Henrick looked at his wife flatly.

“He’s nearly old enough to be safe,” Ida said, starting to sound desperate as Henrick packed his ice tools into his rucksack, “Just a couple more years and he’ll be too old to take, the trolls won’t want him when he’s twelve and then you can take him on all the trips you want, he’s a fast learner, he’ll catch up quickly.”

“Trolls. Aren’t. Real.” Henrik said, really starting to feel angry now. He stood, coming over by the fireplace, standing over her, “Kristoff is real. Ice trading is real. Our livelihood is real.” He growled, roughly rubbing his face with a sigh, “Look, I promise I won’t let him out of my sight, alright? We’ll be back before dark and I promise he won’t be taken by trolls. You can’t keep him tangled in your apron strings forever. He’s a strong boy, he’ll be fine. I promise .”

Ida folded her arms, biting her trembling lip as she looked up at him. Henrick’s gruffness turned to guilt as he watched her try not to cry.

He shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Kristoff was their only child and the light of her world, he knew she’d been truly terrified ever since Rikke’s boy had gone missing in the middle of the night a few years back. Henrick and the other men knew it had to have been Edde wandering off but the womenfolk had whispered of fae for months after. It was the downside to living in a small village, every shift of a snowdrift was the fault of some troll or ice mage or wandering spirit that had to be appeased. But Ida was still his wife and he needed to be more gentle with her feelings, even if they were wrong.

Henrick pulled Ida into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry for pushing.” he said gently, “If it really bothers you I can take him out some other time, I just want him to be prepared for his future.”

She buried her face against his shoulder, “I just don’t want to lose either of you.”

“You won’t.” Henrick said, kissing the top of her head, “I promise.”

“Mama, can I go?” They both looked down at Kristoff, who was still holding onto Ida’s skirt with one hand, his set of tiny metal ice tongs he’d gotten for his last birthday in the other. His eyes were bright, even if his voice was hesitant. “I promise I won’t get taken by trolls. Sven and I want to be the best ice merchants ever, and we gotta practice!”

Henrick looked at his wife, waiting for her to decide. She rubbed the side of her face like she always did when she was hesitant.

“Do you really want to go?” she asked.

“Yes!” Kristoff said excitedly, bouncing up and down a little, “Please? I can take my new sled! I’ll work hard, I promise!”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” Henrick said, putting a comforting arm around her waist, “We shouldn’t be out too late since we’re getting an early start, but the boys are leaving soon.”

“Alright.” Ida said, looking tired and worried, but forcing on a small smile, “Kristoff you have to promise me you’ll stay right by your father and not wander off. Keep all your snow gear on and don’t fall in the water.”

“I will!” Kristoff shouted with glee, really jumping up and down now, “This is going to be the best day ever! I’ll bring you home so much ice Mama, you’ll be able to build a whole other house!”

“I bet you will.” Ida said, bending down and scooping him into a tight hug, kissing his forehead before letting him go, “You’d better go get ready if you’re going to leave in time with Papa.”

“I’ll go tell Sven!” Kristoff said, tearing off the moment she let him go.

“We’ll be back before you know it.” Henrick said, smiling as he hugged her again, “But don’t get your hopes up about a new house.” he teased.

“Well if he grows up to be half as good as you then we’ll be plenty well off in old age.” Sedsel said, her smile was still small, but it felt real again.

 ***

 “You’ve done a fine job there, boy.” Henrick said, grinning down at the little chunk of ice Kristoff had pulled out of the lake, only about the size of a single brick.

“Thanks!” Kristoff said. His cheeks were flushed and he was panting as he tried to latch his tongs onto the block again, dragging the little block backward across the ice, “I’m gonna load it onto my sled so we can sell it!”

It was far later than Henrick had thought they’d be out, the sun having already dropped below the horizon by the time the men were finally loading the last of the harvested ice up onto the sleigh. Everyone was clearing up by the light of their yellow-green lanterns, making sure all the tools had been gathered up.

Ida would probably be frantically pacing by the front window by now, Henrick already having broken half his promise of being home before dark.

“You sure you don’t want me to load it onto the sleigh with the rest of the ice?” Henrick asked his son, balancing his own massive steel ice tongs on his shoulder, “You and Sven can ride up with us, it’s already getting dark, your mother’s going to tan my hide for having you out this late.”

“No,” Kristoff said, concentrating hard as he continued to struggle with his tongs, the points slipping loose over and over across the ice block’s sides. “Sven wants to pull the sled and the ice by himself.”

Kristoff seemed to have lost his hat at some point and had been enthusiastically “helping” harvest ice all day. He was doubtlessly exhausted, not having built up the dexterity and strength that handling tongs required like the other more experienced boys his age had.

Henrick heard a whistle and a shout from the ice sleigh as the others loaded up. It was time to head back. It would be faster to just scoop up Kristoff, reindeer, sled and ice block all in one armful and carry them to the sleigh, but Henrick couldn’t bring himself to stomp on his son’s independent spark. Even if he couldn’t keep up quite yet he could at least help boost the boy’s confidence.

“Alright, but I think you’ll have better luck just pushing it yourself, I’ll carry your tongs.” Henrick said, stooping to take the metal tool and ruffle his son’s hair, “You and Sven can handle your ice yourself but I’ll be watching you from the sleigh, alright? We’ll be moving much slower than we did on the way here, but be sure to keep up. Maybe after supper we can finish that dog wood carving we’ve been working on together.”

“Okay Papa!” Kristoff said, starting to push the ice block with his mittens, already moving much faster than he’d been managing with the tongs.  

Henrick chuckled, patting Sven as he passed him on the way to the sleigh. Not every child in the village could boast owning their own reindeer calf, but being well off meant that Henrick could afford to treat his son to some of the nicer things.

He grunted as he pulled himself up to stand on the side of the sleigh, holding onto the wooden slats as he peered back into the darkness. Kristoff had just managed to get his ice block onto his sled, nearly falling over himself as he did so, but he and Sven got moving right as the sleigh under Henrick did, everyone beginning to move forward across the snow.

Good. They’d all be home safe soon enough, a warm supper and a quiet evening by the fire with Kristoff and Ida sounded like heaven right now.

Henrick looked up at the night sky, gazing up at the northern lights that had begun their silent dance above them, ethereal ribbons of shimmering green twisting across the sky.

 ***

 Being out with Papa all day had made Kristoff tired, but it had been so exciting!

Kristoff rubbed his thick leather mitten against his nose as Sven pulled their sled. He’d lost his hat earlier and the freezing wind was starting to bite his nose and ears, but it was okay, he was basically a grown up now, and grown-ups could ride home all by themselves. He saw Papa up ahead on the big sleigh look back at him, checking on him again before looking ahead. The grown-ups had loaded so much ice on the sleigh that it was super easy for Sven to keep up, Papa didn’t have to keep worrying about him.

Kristoff couldn’t wait to show Mama the block of ice he’d pulled out of the lake all by himself with only a little help from Papa. When she saw how good he’d done maybe she’d let him go out even more so that-

He heard the thundering of horse hooves and turned to see a pair of horses whip past him, carrying their riders through the woods and back into the night.

Kristoff’s eyes got wide, behind one of the horses was a spreading path of ice , a beautiful sparkling trail frosting across the grassy ground.

What kind of horse was that?

Kristoff had to see more.

He quickly unclipped Sven’s harness and jumped on his back, leaving the sled and ice behind and turning them around to follow the ice horse as quickly as they could. The grown-up sleigh was moving so slow that they’d catch up with them again no problem as soon as Kristoff figured out what was going on.  

Papa wouldn’t even notice he was gone.

 ***

 Kristoff was gone.

Henrick had just checked on him, had seen the tiny sled trundling right behind them in the night with its lantern swinging, and now not even ten minutes later he was gone.

Henrick shouted hoarsely for the sleigh to stop, jumping down as quickly as he could. He’d been exhausted from the long day only a minute ago but now he was on fire with panic. He shouted Kristoff’s name as he walked back through the trees, the other men starting to get off the sleigh behind him.

Kristoff must have gotten distracted by something and wandered off for a moment, maybe his sled had gotten caught, or Sven had gotten tired.

As soon as Henrick hiked back around the last bend he’d see Kristoff and he’d have to lecture him about keeping up. The boy had lost his sled privileges was for certain, he’d have to ride on the sleigh from now on.

Which is why the pit of fear in Henrick’s stomach was irrational. Nothing had happened to his son, he’d only lost sight of him for a few minutes. It was just Ida’s old housewife superstitions getting at him was all.

 ***

 Bulda hadn’t expected the human King and Queen to come to the troll glen tonight, she hadn’t expected them to bring the little human princesses to Grand Pabbi for healing and memory rearranging either.

But most of all she hadn’t expected her very own delightful little human boy to wander all the way up to her herself. And with his own little reindeer calf too!

“Well aren’t you just adorable!” Bulda said.

She smiled as she petted the boy’s hair, a beautiful shiny blonde, his outfit was charmingly well made too. Everyone else would be jealous to see what a good looking child she’d found, and she hadn’t even had to break into a human house to get him either.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, looking curiously at her stony hand, “And what was going on with the family? Was the girl sick?”

“Well, I’m a troll silly. You'll have to get used to it now that you're staying here with us.” Bulda chuckled, taking the boy’s hand and turning it over, marveling at the soft smooth skin, “And she’ll be alright, just humans meddling with things they don’t understand. What’s your name?”

“S-stay with you?” the boy said, his eyes getting wide with fear. He tried pulling his hand away and the reindeer calf balked back away from her.

“What kind of a name is that?” Bulda teased, keeping ahold of the boy’s hand. Human children were always jumpy when they were first adopted, but it wasn’t too hard to calm them down as long as she kept him from running off before she could clean up his memories a bit, “Come on, tell us your name.”

“Kristoff,” said Kristoff, his voice squeaking a bit in fear as he kept trying to yank arm away, “Let go please, I want to go back to my Papa, he’ll be worried.”

“Kristoff.” Bulda said with a smile, pulling just a bit at his memories now that she had his name. A good Christian name by the feel of it, “Oh you’ll like it out here, lots of trees and mushrooms and mud for little boys to play with. Come and meet the family, they’ll all be excited to meet you!”

“But...” Kristoff said, his pulling getting weaker as a look of confusion spread over his face, “But Mama...”

“I thought you said you were an orphan?” Bulda asked patiently, “Weren’t you just telling me you don’t have a family?”

“I...yeah. I think so.” Kristoff said slowly, looking around, “Why am I out here?

“Because we’re you’re family!” Bulda smiled, gently pushing him further into the glen as the others started noticing her new human child, pointing excitedly, “Why else would you be out here in the woods all alone? It’s because you belong with us.”

Kristoff smiled hesitantly as he stiffly stepped forward, but quickly loosened up as the others eagerly gathered around him. Changing around human memories was just too easy.

She looked over at the reindeer calf, which still looked nervous and wary, but a gentle pat on the head fixed that, and soon it had happily joined Kristoff.

Bulda wandered off to the side for a moment, cracking her knuckles before picking up a hunk of old wood. Kristoff’s old family would be wondering where he’d gone so she needed to send them something in return to keep them off the trail.

After all, if they’d been careless enough to let a properly named blonde child out of their sight then they probably didn’t really care about their child, now did they?

She concentrated as she carefully poured a strong enchantment onto the wood, it must have been decades since she’d last made a changeling, but she could still manage well enough.

Once she’d finished she shooed it back off into the woods, watching her handiwork shuffle off into the trees. She dusted her stony hands in satisfaction, turning back to the others who were all enthusiastically gathering around her new human.

She smiled and rolled over to join them. Tonight was a night for celebration.

 ***

 “Kristoff!” Henrick shouted, his voice starting to feel hoarse now.

He didn’t know how long he’d been searching now, it might have been an hour, it might have been weeks. Kristoff’s sled was gripped under his arm as he kept swinging the lantern back and forth. He’d found it sitting alone with only the tiny iceblock left on it. No child or reindeer to be seen.

“Henrick,” Orrin said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “we need to get the ice back to the village and packed before it melts, we’ll come back with more men to search.”

“He’s got to be here!” Henrick said, jerking his arm away and crashing through more brush, “I’m not leaving, help me look! Kristoff!”

The pit of fear in his stomach had grown and swallowed him whole, making it feel as if he’d dropped into a nightmare that refused to end.

What if he never found Kristoff? What if he did find Kristoff but something had happened to him? There were wolves in these mountains, there were cliffs and rivers, dozens of places a young child could disappear into in the dead of night and never ever be found again.

And what would Ida say if he really had lost their little boy.

He swung the lantern again, what was left of his heart continuing to drop as he peered uselessly into the all-consuming shadows of the looming trees around them. How had he been so stupid, how had he ever let Kristoff out of his sight long enough to-

He froze as he heard something. Something that sounded like the sniffling of a small child.  

He crashed through another barrier of brush, his lantern light falling on what looked like a little boy wandering by himself through a clearing.

“Kristoff!” Henrick choked, rushing up and falling to his knees, setting the lantern down and scooping his son into a tight hug, “What happened? Where did you go? Are you alright?”

Henrick would have become angry then after having been scared to death, but Kristoff stood stiff in his hug, only continuing to sniffle. Not acting at all like he usually did.

“Son, are you alright?” Henrick asked more gently, taking Kristoff’s face in his hands, “Where’s Sven?”

Kristoff said nothing, only hanging his head miserably as he began to cry.

A heavy chill settled over Henrick that had nothing to do with the dropping temperature. Something was very very wrong.

He stood, scooping up his son as he looked warily at the dark forest around him. They needed to get home. Now.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back to Mama soon, everything’s okay.” Henrick said, grabbing the lantern and pushing back through the underbrush as quickly as he could.

Something was deeply wrong with these woods and he wanted to get out of them as quickly as possible.

 ***

 “Henrick, that’s not our son.”

“How can you say that?” Henrick whispered back sharply, his arms folded so tightly that it was starting to hurt as they both stood in the doorway of Kristoff’s bedroom, watching him sleep. “He’s just been sick, that’s why he’s been acting like this.”

But he couldn’t pretend anymore that he’d had the same terrifying thought himself.

Over the last few days Kristoff had been acting like a completely different child, always crying without saying why, hardly speaking, usually sitting on his own and sullenly lashing out whenever they tried to coax him out.

Only so much could be attributed to the loss of his reindeer, which is what they’d assumed was wrong at first. But as Kristoff seemed to become more and more ill, despite how much food he kept demanding and voraciously eating, Henrick found himself longing for how his son had been only a week ago.

“What...what if he’s really a-?” Ida started.

“Don’t.” Henrik said, but he pulled her into a tight embrace as they continued watching the child in Kristoff’s bed, a tuft of blonde hair sticking out over the blanket, “Don’t say it.”

“Can we take him to the church tomorrow?” Ida asked, looking up at him, tears in her eyes, “Just, just to have the priest make sure.”

“Alright.” Henrick said, his breath shaking just a bit, “We’ll take him to the church tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Ida said softly.

“Go to bed, I’ll come in a moment.” Henrick said, letting her go.

She nodded, glancing back at Kristoff before leaving.

Henrick stood in the dark quiet of the night, silently watching the boy sleep as the house creaked in the night wind around them, the dim light of a candle flickering around the small room.

They’d take Kristoff to the church tomorrow and get the priest's blessing, they’d pay the doctor to come around again and get him to give them a straight answer about what was wrong with their boy and how to fix it. Henrick would buy Kristoff a new reindeer, he’d let him stay inside with his mother as much as he wanted, he’d do anything he had to to get his son back to the way things had been.

He felt a chill run down his spine as a sharp draft whipped through the room, snuffing out the candle at the bedside and dropping the room into darkness.

Henrick looked over his shoulder, despite knowing no one was there, unable to shake a sudden creeping feeling that had come over him. Where had a draft that strong come from?

He crossed the room, his eyes slowly adjusting in the darkness as he pulled a match from his pocket, striking it and relighting the bedside candle. He picked up the empty ceramic water pitcher as he turned to leave the room for the night, unable to keep from glancing one more time at Kristoff’s bed.

For years afterward the neighbors would tell in hushed whispers about being woken by Henrick and Ida’s screams in the middle of the night, of rushing to their aid with crossbows and axes, expecting to find that a wolf or a bear had broken into their son’s bedroom.

But instead finding them both standing amid the shards of a smashed water pitcher, the wife having fainted dead away at the sight of an old crumbling log rotting in their son’s bed.