#but I think a close second of things that bring him joy on the job is just sneaking up and scaring the living daylights out of people
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age-of-moonknight · 2 months ago
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“New Moon,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #1.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
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josephandrewstarkey · 3 months ago
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drew and reader have a toddler but they are broken up because reader thinks that drew and odessa are together. drew came to pick up the toddler and they start arguing over nothing because they miss each other so much.
ty for your request anon, i hope you like it!
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second chances
warnings: slight angst
disclaimer: this is absolutely no shade/hate towards odessa, this is simply just for the plot <3
words: 1.036
❧ drew starkey x reader
The familiar sound of Drew’s car pulling up in the driveway sent a wave of tension through Y/N. She adjusted her grip on their toddler, Harper, who was happily babbling in her arms, blissfully unaware of the heavy silence that had settled between her parents for weeks.
It hadn’t been easy since the breakup. Y/N had thought she could handle it, but every time Drew came to pick up their daughter, the ache in her chest only grew deeper. It wasn’t just the end of their relationship that stung—it was the constant thought that he had moved on with Odessa. The rumors, the paparazzi photos, they all painted a picture that was too hard to ignore.
As Drew walked up the steps and knocked on the door, Y/N’s pulse quickened. She let out a slow breath and opened the door, greeted by the sight of him—his tousled hair, the familiar warmth in his eyes as he looked at Harper. For a moment, her heart faltered. Despite everything, seeing him still made her stomach flip.
“Hey,” Drew said softly, his eyes flicking to hers before focusing on Harper, who squealed with joy and reached out for him.
“Hi,” Y/N replied, handing their daughter over, careful to avoid letting their fingers touch. She couldn’t handle that right now.
Drew cradled Harper with ease, making her giggle as he kissed her cheek. For a moment, there was a pause, a heavy silence that neither of them knew how to fill.
“I’ve packed her bag,” Y/N said quickly, gesturing to the small backpack by the door. “Everything she’ll need for the weekend.”
Drew nodded, bouncing Harper slightly in his arms, though his gaze lingered on Y/N. “Thanks. I’ll have her back by Sunday night.”
Another stretch of silence filled the space between them, awkward and stifling. Y/N clenched her jaw, her mind swirling with all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t. She didn’t want to argue in front of Harper, but the frustration, the loneliness—it was all building inside her, begging to spill out.
And then it happened.
“So… how’s Odessa?” she asked, the words sharper than she intended, bitterness lacing her tone. She regretted it as soon as they left her lips, but the question hung in the air between them.
Drew’s brows furrowed, his hold on Harper tightening slightly. “What?”
Y/N crossed her arms defensively, her voice quieter now but still tense. “You two seem pretty close lately. The pictures... the rumors...”
Drew’s expression darkened, and he shifted Harper in his arms as she started to squirm. “Y/N, there’s nothing going on between me and Odessa. You know that.”
“Do I?” Y/N’s eyes flashed with hurt. “Because all I see is you spending more time with her than—”
“This again?” Drew interrupted, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re really going to bring this up every time I come here? You think I don’t miss you? Miss us?”
Y/N’s breath hitched, the raw emotion in his voice catching her off guard. But she wasn’t ready to back down. “If you miss us so much, maybe you shouldn’t be cozying up to her in every photo.”
“I’m not cozying up to anyone,” Drew said, his voice rising slightly as he shifted Harper to his hip, trying to stay calm in front of their daughter. “I’m doing my job, Y/N. Odessa is a friend, and you know that. But you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. “I made up my mind because you didn’t fight for us, Drew. You let us fall apart.”
Drew’s jaw clenched, his gaze softening as he saw the hurt written all over her face. “I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t. But you keep pushing me away.”
“Because I can’t compete with her!” Y/N cried, her voice breaking. “I can’t compete with everything your world demands. It was always the two of us, and now... now it feels like I’m on the outside.”
Harper, sensing the tension, began to fuss, and Drew immediately began soothing her, rocking her gently. His eyes never left Y/N’s, though, filled with frustration, pain, and something else—something deeper.
“You’re not on the outside,” Drew said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re the one I love, Y/N. You’re the mother of my daughter, and you’re the only one I want. Odessa... she’s just a friend. That’s it.”
Y/N stared at him, her defenses crumbling as the weight of his words settled in. She wanted to believe him—God, she wanted to believe him so badly. But the pain of the last few months had built walls around her heart, and it wasn’t easy to just let them down.
“I miss you,” Drew whispered, his voice raw. “I miss us. This… this isn’t what I want. We’re a family, Y/N. I can’t keep doing this if we’re not going to at least try.”
Y/N swallowed hard, her heart aching as she looked at him, holding their daughter in his arms—their little family that felt so fractured. “I miss you too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Drew. I don’t know how to trust that it’ll be different.”
Drew stepped closer, his free hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. She didn’t pull away. “We fix it by talking, by being honest. Not by pushing each other away. Please… let’s try. For Harper. For us.”
Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks as she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. She felt the weight of his words, the sincerity in them. Maybe they could try. Maybe they could find their way back to each other.
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, filled with hope and longing. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s try.”
Drew let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his thumb brushing away her tears. “I love you, Y/N. That’s never changed.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, her heart finally beginning to mend.
And as Harper giggled between them, oblivious to the pain and healing happening around her, Y/N and Drew realized that maybe, just maybe, their family wasn’t broken after all.
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bywons · 10 months ago
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ꔫ GO AHEAD AND CRY, LITTLE GIRL ( enhypen )
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⌕ where you cry in their arms
pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 1.05k tw/cw. none really genre. fluff sru's note. requested! help i don't think i did a good job with this one ( CATALOGUE?! )
¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !
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LEE HEESEUNG can feel his heart breaking at the sight, his one and only love, his pretty girl sobbing into her hands in front of him, the cause still unknown. but he doesn't waste any time and pulls you into his embrace, your soft plump cheeks strained with tears pressed to his broad and snug chest, salty tears dampening his beige sweatshirt but that's the last thing that he cares about right now. he shushes you, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other softly stroking your back, in the utmost hope that you'll eventually stop crying. cause every tear that spills out of those pretty eyes of yours, it hammers lee heeseung's heart. would press soft kisses on top of your head until you calm down, along with his hug around you closing in tighter. when you calm down, he'll wipe away all the tears and make you a comforting hot bowl of ramen <3
PARK JONGSEONG drops whatever task he's doing, no matter how trivial or significant, and rushes to you the second he hears something as slight as a sniffle from you. and even when he's not close enough to be seen or called for, jay is one call away. has the biggest “and i crumble completely when you cry” energy. literally pulls you into his lap the second he sees the smallest drop of tears on your face. rocks both your bodies back and forth while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, his hand simultaneously working and massaging your scalp. he literally doesn't even stop for a second until your sobs have completely died down, and even then he rocks you both back and forth while whispering about your problems, while you rest in his lap with your hands and cheeks pressed against his warm chest. jay still doesn't return to his aborted work and don't you dare ask him about it, cause you're way more important.
SIM JAEYUN puts on the saddest face with the biggest pout, literally becoming a puppy face. caresses your face and cradles it between his hands, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist. gets so worried when he sees you sobbing, at one point he gets insecure of being a bad boyfriend, always thinks he did something wrong. jake would press soft feathery kisses all over your face and right when you give the smallest upward twitch of lips, he'll literally attack you with tickles! jake just wants to hear you laugh and wants joy to stick to you forever. brings layla to you too <//3 so that all three of you can cuddle together while he just rambles random things to your now sleeping figure.
PARK SUNGHOON takes a bit of time to process the scene in front of him when you break into sobs, don't get him wrong but he's just disheartened at the sight of your tear stricken cheeks and red puffy eyes. if he's still foreign to it, it would take him some time to approach you in your sobbing fit but if not he's quick to act. but eventually picks you up and makes you sit in front of him at the edge of the bed. if you don't want to talk it out then he'll pull you closer until your heads’ on his shoulders, his hands creeping up beneath your shirt to draw random doodles on your back while you calm down in his embrace <3 sunghoon definitely kisses your cheeks a lot, until you're giggling from his kisses, and then and only then is he relieved. makes sure to ask what was wrong after.
KIM SEONWOO almost cries along with you, the soft and choked sounds of your sobs and your salty damp cheeks overwhelms him. immediately wraps you in his embrace, practically burying you in it. with glossy eyes, he tries to shush you up with an accompanied series of kisses to your cheeks, forehead and lips. when you're crying away in his arms, he'll play with your hair, braiding them only to untangle them and braid them again. gives you all the comfort in the world; he even brings your favourite plushies— that he won for you at the arcade— to you and wraps you in the warm, thick duvet. he giggles at the cute scenario in front of him, before tackling you in his arms and bombarding your face with soft kisses. definitely eats mint choco with you later.
YANG JUNGWON being the reserved and calm man(leader too) he is, he would hand you a glass of water immediately when he sees streams of tears flow down your cheeks. doesn't waste a second after that, wiping away your tears from your cheeks and pulling you into his embrace, stroking your back in a soft rhythm which makes your eyes flutter close. the smell of his cologne is mellow, which drives your nerves slowly and calms you down in his embrace. jungwon hugs you tighter and presses occasional kisses to your shoulders and forehead, just to let you know he's still here, all ears to listen to whatever's wrong. lays down with you, his head resting still upon his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat through his grey sweatshirt while he asks you what's wrong. his caresses don't stop even for a second while he lays with you, listening to your heart.
NISHIKURA RIKI ‘s heart melts when you break down like that, #2 at the “and I crumble completely when you cry” energy, don't ask me why. but our boys’ not nervous at all! he loves his girlfriend dearly and always has a trick up his sleeve whenever the smallest inconvenience comes across. rushes to you and hugs you so tight that at one point you swore you couldn't breathe. that is when riki thankfully lets you off his grip and pulls you closer, until your back is pressed to his chest. now it's time for nishimura riki to pull his trick out! girlfriend 101: when y/n's crying, show her cute cat videos. your have died down soon enough after riki holds his phone before your eyes, a random cat compilation video playing. he doesn't forget his cuddles though, literally becomes plush to you while you both stream cat videos that whole day.
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini nets! @/k-labels
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pityroadart · 28 days ago
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Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)
Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.
Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.
Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!
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Until the Birds Return on Spotify
Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):
Astronaut | Future Crib
I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me
Afraid of Heights | boygenius
I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death
Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade
Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets
... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart
Factories | Autoheart
When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive
You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy
Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend
My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside
My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water
Santa Fe | Autoheart
Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad
Coat on a Hook | The National
Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me
Top to Toe | Fenne Lily
So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right
Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf
Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone
Hornets | The National
But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight
Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!
If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it
The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost
We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too
Bike Dream | Rostam
Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed
Don't Go | Yazoo
Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go
Jenny | The Mountain Goats
I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest
Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)
Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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💰with Sirius??? He would absolutely just spoil spoil spoil reader with everything. Like that trend with dogs where the owners buy everyone the dog sniffs, he’d be following reader and buying anything she even vaguely grazes. She def hates it and feels bad everytime but he’s like “let my family’s name do one good thing for me and let me spend it all on you”
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“Sirius, put it down.”
“But you want it.”
“No, I don’t—”
“Love, I saw you staring at it for the last five minutes,” he countered, almost looking far too smug for your liking. 
“Just because I look at something doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me,” you snapped back at him, trying to fight the urge to glance down at all the bags of stuff he had bought you during your trip through Diagon Alley so far. The pile was only getting bigger and it was starting to make you feel nauseous. 
“But I want to buy it for you,” Sirius said with an easy smile on his face. “Would you really stop my happiness and wants because of your own selfishness, love?”
You shot him a look.
“In fact, this might be the only thing that brings me joy,” he continued as he stepped over the bags and reached for you. “This might be the only source of happiness in my sad, sad life.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous, Sirius Black.”
“No, I am just a man from a tragically rich family who wants to use his money to spoil his girl instead of buying those atrociously ugly dressing robes my mother keeps hinting at,” Sirius retorted, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the mere mention of the robes. “I saw Lucius in them the other day. It looked like a Hippogriff threw up on him.”
This time you let out a full laugh, boisterous and bellyful and definitely out of place in the high-end jewellers you were both currently standing in.
“Hm, although that laugh is a close second in making me happy,” Sirius murmured with a fond smile on his face.
“You do this every time,” you complained as your hands fisted the material of his shirt, fingers smoothing over the buttons. “You butter me up so I give in and let you buy me stuff.”
“It’s a strategy,” Sirius said proudly. “And it works.”
“You need to stop it before you waste all your money on me,” you told him with a shake of your head.
“It would never be a waste if it was on you, love,” Sirius told you, though his words were thick with emotion and sincerity as he cupped your face in his hands. “I want to give you everything you deserve.” 
“But all I want is you,” you countered. “You are more than enough for me, Sirius. I don’t need you to flash or flaunt your money on me.”
“Yeah, but I like seeing the way you try to hide that smile of yours whenever you wear something I bought you,” Sirius said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “And I think that little diamond thing would look gorgeous on you.”
“It’s called a choker,” you laughed. 
“I thought that was my job,” Sirius grinned back at you.
“Sirius!”
“What?! I am being serious!”
.
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burningcheese-merchant · 2 months ago
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I WILL NOW BE PRESENTING MY BURNINGCHEESE EVIDENCE TO THE COURT
It is Sunday. I have free time. There are people out there who still do not ship BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This offends me. You all must now endure Maximum Annoyance in retaliation.
Exhibit A: The description of Burning Spice's throne decor ends with this line: "Now, after tasting the sweet joy of destruction and chaos, Burning Spice Cookie sits and meditates... waiting for the perfect moment to hunt down his prey."
This is most likely referring to Golden Cheese herself. She is constantly, directly called "prey" (and also "bird") by the Wild Spices throughout the story. Burning Spice himself calls his seeking of her "the bird hunt".
Smoked Cheese also remarks at one point that Burning Spice could probably go after them whenever he wishes; he's just toying with them, watching them go. Playing cat-and-mouse.
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Two things can be drawn from all of this:
Burning Spice talks about Golden Cheese so often, and calls her "bird" and "prey" so often, that his forces have adopted these nicknames he's given her and now think of her as them themselves
Burning Spice has been sitting on his throne and watching/keeping track of her for literal hours, if not even longer than that. And he does that instead of just getting up and going after her immediately because he likes watching and chasing her. (ADDITIONAL NOTE: He yells "ALL THE WAITING I'VE ENDURED... FOR THIS?!" at her later on, further proving that he's spent for-fucking-ever just thinking about her and their meeting/fight. I will address this line again later.)
Exhibit B: As soon as Golden Cheese appears within his line of sight, he stops caring about anything else. Nutmeg Tiger speaks directly to him and he completely ignores her. He does not acknowledge Smoked Cheese in any way. He does not acknowledge the Spice Swarm in any way. The entire episode, the Wild Spices are combing every inch of their territory in search of her, claiming over and over again that if they bring her to Burning Spice, he will shower them with praise and glory. But when this finally happens, when they succeed in holding her in place and stalling for time for Burning Spice to arrive, no such thing happens. Burning Spice acknowledges nothing and no one except for her. It's as if time has stopped. Like the earth has ceased to rotate on its axis. All that exists in the universe is himself and Golden Cheese.
Exhibit C: First thing he says to her is "Finally... we meet." An expression of joy and relief that he finally gets to be face-to-face with her. Second thing is calling her the thief who stole the other half of his Soul Jam. THIRD THING IS A GODDAMN COMPLIMENT.
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Of all the words of tongue and pen he could have chosen to give her. The cruel insults. The petty jabs. The cocky assertion of his impending victory over her. Even a single nod and commendation of his soldiers' hard work, even in passing. Nope. No, sir. All that time he spent waiting to meet her, all the time he had to think of something to say to her, and he chooses to say "hey, you did a sweet job of beating the shit out of my general, I fucking loved it" (and he honestly said it super weird. Go back and listen to the line. Listen closely to his tone. He sounds borderline flirtatious/seductive, I swear to God)
Exhibit D: Mr. Creepshot over here starts his gacha animation doing the yin-yang pose with Golden Cheese, and the way he opens his eyes and looks at her almost makes it look like he's either trying to peek up her collar at her chest, or trying to peek up her skirt:
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Look at that twinkle in his eye. The predatory grin on his face. He is ZEROED IN on her. He looks like he wants to eat her for every meal of the day (and I don't just mean literally). Jail. Immediately.
Exhibit E: He does not stop smiling ONCE during their entire interaction, from the second he shows up to the end of their fight (and then he goes back to smiling like a maniac at her soon after anyway). He is grinning at her like he's the Joker and she's his Batman (and we all know how... attached to Batman Joker is lol). He looks like this - like she - is the only fun he's had in a long, long time. He is HAPPY to see her, even in this evil, deranged way.
Exhibit F: He looks at her like this:
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No man that looks at a woman like this has holy intentions, I'm telling you. Wrath's not the only sin on his mind right now. Line directly below may or may not be related :)
Exhibit G: Some of his overworld dialogue seems to allude to Golden Cheese specifically.
"I do enjoy my prey to have a little fight in them!" - he says this exact line directly to her face in the story
"Why, I, too, once had things I held dear." - He's talking to you, the player. This is something he says when you tap on him in his little lobby. But it can be argued that he's talking to Golden Cheese, as well. He might be thinking of her, referencing her specifically when he says this, because... that's her. SHE had things she held dear. Things she loved, things she lost. Things she grieves still. He knows this. He reminds her of it. He might almost be trying to acknowledge a connection with/to her, beyond them sharing the Light of Change. He was like her once. He had people he loved and lost. (Watch his interaction w/ Nutmeg Tiger in your kingdom, it'll all but tell you this.) They have a lot more in common than just a power source. Maybe he knows this. Maybe he's trying to express that, to you and to her.
"Abundance? Hah! More stuff to break..." - 555-COME-ON-NOW
"Sorry to break it to you... but nothing is eternal!" - Again, he's talking to you/us, but he could just as easily be talking to/thinking of her when he says this. Golden Cheese always championed her kingdom and her wealth as eternal. She essentially doubles down on this notion through her keeping them all alive inside a digital fantasy world. Episode 18 is literally titled "Goddess of Eternal Gold". He could be making a jab at her here.
"Cookies clinging to their little possessions... Pathetic!" and "In the end, everything becomes dust." - Double whammy. Him talking/thinking about her here can be further supported by what he says to her before he rips her wings off: "Ruler of a fallen kingdom. The Tide of Change will swallow you whole. You will crumble and become dust, like all those trinkets you treasured so." Again, he already knows her whole life story. He knows what happened to her. To her people. To everything and everyone she ever loved. He knows she loves trinkets. He knows she revels in opulence. He already knows her well enough to know what to say to her and how, to drive the knife in deepest. He calls her dust. He reminds her of all of her precious trinkets that she loved so damn much. She clings to her little possessions. She will become dust. Like her kingdom already did. Like everything one day will.
Exhibit H: When he wins their fight and he's holding her over the cliff, he yells "ALL THE WAITING I'VE ENDURED... FOR THIS?!" (we're back to this line, just like I said!) Before you bring up him wanting the Soul Jam back (which he does, I do not deny this), consider this: he makes no move whatsoever to take it back, even when he's got her in his grasp and the Soul Jam is inches from his face. He's got her beat, pinned, but he leaves it at that. He doesn't even mention the Soul Jam at all, not even once. All he does is yell and throw a huge tantrum about how their battle didn't go the way he wanted it to. He just go on and on about how it can't end like this. His bird hunt can't end like this. Where's the thrill? He honestly seems to care less about the Soul Jam and more about her. It's not the "the Soul Jam hunt", it's "the BIRD hunt". He wants his power back, of course. But that's not all he wants. He wants her. He's after her.
Additional point, that may or may not be enough to count as Exhibit I: In the beginning, Saffron Buffalo tells Golden Cheese that Burning Spice chose her. After she and Smoked Cheese kick his ass, he says now he understands WHY Burning Spice chose her, and he was wrong to doubt her and her strength.
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It can be inferred from this, from Burning Spice's reaction to her, from his reaction to their fight, from his reaction to her swift loss, that Burning Spice thinks highly of her and her capabilities, at least in his own evil, violent way. Enough for it to be noticeable even to his subordinates. Enough that he would not bend the knee if and when questioned. Enough that he's beyond disappointed when their fight ends the way it does. He wanted more from her. He expected more from her. He had high hopes for her, right from the jump. And she let him down. Broke his dark heart.
Burning Spice has had Golden Cheese on his mind for God and the Witches know how long. He thought well enough of her to choose her. To proudly state that she meets his standards. He waited for her, again for who really knows how long. He sat and meditated on her, on his hunt for her, on their fated meeting and battle. He was beyond pleased when she once again proved her might to him by taking out his general (even better, he might have gotten to see it happen as he was approaching the scene). He all but purrs his words of contentment at her prowess at her (go back and listen to him when he says that line. Pay close attention to the tone and cadence of his voice. He sounds... a certain way when he's talking to her. He really does, I mean it). He's entirely too pleased to see her. He comes to life when they battle. He looks like this is the best day of his whole damn life so far. He's angry and bitter when she throws it all away to save an insignificant child. He's angry and bitter she's taken everything he's done, all the time and effort he's spent, for granted. He's bitter enough to take pot shots at her. To sprinkle some salt in her wounds, where he knows it'll hurt most. He KNOWS her. He WAITED for her. He expected so much of her. Of course he wants the Soul Jam back. But he's shown that he wants Golden Cheese herself just as much.
In conclusion:
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scarlett-ggv · 2 months ago
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Reflection and perfection.
Bumblebee x Reader (I'm sorry if it's poorly worded, the translator is against me. IJDIHUEEDJI)
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Maybe it's the wind gently blowing through your hair. Or the contribution of the sun by illuminating your face, allowing a better view of the tone of your eyes. Simply wonderful like those well-formed clouds that adorned the sky.
It was wonderful, magical, pretty… How can a person look so pretty and so real at the same time? You were there, right there. By your side, doing whatever you're doing and thinking about whatever you're thinking about. He can feel you, he can see you. It can see you from head to toe and how it undertakes a journey of a few centimeters through your hair to reach the ends of it, shiny.
It was just unreal. Spiritual and physical so unreal. How your eyes are the reflection of combined colors and a record of infinite scenarios united with natural sensations, so beautiful that they make those past memories that torment him day and night flee from his mind. Like a gust of wind, like a momentary illusion, fast and fleeting like a star.
But comparing you to a star wouldn't do justice to what he sees, only you. He longs for an opportunity, nothing more, but a look from you, enough to mark a feeling in his heart, with the same impact as a knife and a petal of the most fragile rose in his beautiful world. That was the mess inside him, it was uncomfortable not being able to control that when he saw your lips. It was, at the same time, also charming, charming those thoughts that abound in just a couple of seconds, involuntary. Where every time you do your job, a small smile tries to appear. An unknown sensation when thinking about your lips, with violent depth, longing as before to touch them, feel them and maybe, just maybe, be the owner of them, one day. Just someday.
If I could, I would look for the exact place inside his mind to find the very word of what he can feel about you, even if it is minimal. I would force everyone to feel it, to see if they are also amazed by the sensation. Everything about you.
Coming from another world was no longer so strange for him, he had met other humans, other customs and faces. I had discovered attitudes and above all that gesture of joy when you saw the team also bringing with them their own happiness. Impossible to ignore. Primus knew it, and she knew that he knew what she felt every exact moment when he was with her at every inexact moment.
''I know you do''
Those words ended the comfortable silence that existed between them and Bumblebee almost tensed when he heard that voice that according to him is synonymous with enjoying hearing a bird sing in nature and the perfect synchronization of instruments that together make a melody. He knows what you mean, you know he's looking at you
He saw you turn around looking at him, a clash of glances, innocent for you and a loss for him, so much so that it seems like you're doing it on purpose, perfection impossible. You blinked, and he nodded lntamene, without taking his gaze off your face, he doesn't hesitate, he stays like that.
''I know'' he thinks, unable to speak and express with a few words so many things stored inside him, he has the radio but it is not the same. He is not ashamed to look at your lips, close. He runs over your face from your lips to a trip back to your eyes, while you smile, closing your eyes and turning around again, shy, he loves it.
You feel small, you are. You notice it every time you remember that your height is synonymous with the difference between you, worlds and species. There is a hint of guilt, but you know that nothing will happen, never mutual. But him? He doesn't want to waste time, time is for now gold, like exhausted Energon… So valuable, reminding him how unfair life is when deciding that your steps on earth will disappear in a few years, that he will no longer be able to help you. contemplate as now. So unfair.
Él pone una mano en tu barbilla dubitativamente, algo dubitativo pero que no se nota, dejas de sonreír y te concentras en la situación, tragas saliva, mirándolo a los ojos siendo incapaz de apartar la mirada, ni a ningún lado… Él aparta la mirada. Te mira. Hubiera sido solo un beso lo que hubiera cambiado todo, el destino de ambos y tantas cosas. Pero sabe que será un recuerdo, y duele. Ese pensamiento duele mientras los segundos pasan y siguen como están. Hubiera bastado solo un movimiento para lograr lo que anhela. Pero no puede. Él nunca fue un cobarde, había luchado junto a Optimus Prime como mano derecha para eliminar algunos decepticons, pero en cuanto a sentimientos tampoco lo era. ¿Qué cambió? Nada, fue solo tu presencia.
He left you, looked ahead, taking his gaze away from yours. You hesitated, you thought. You turned around a little nervously without smiling while you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, adjusted your book and remained silent. He looked ahead, the timing of this scenario combined with your beauty and feelings would have been so perfect, but he is not capable. So, now both of us sitting looking at the landscape, alone. They know and are aware of what is happening. But no one speaks
You speak, he looks at you out of the corner of his eye for a second when you do, wanting to say so many things, but he can't. Answering you in his mind.
''The landscape is beautiful''
''I know''
----------------------------------------
I'm sorry if the writing is rubbish, I have two reasons.
1.- I am new to writing
2.- I speak Spanish and I use the translator. It's their fault, I swear! AJJSDHJKSAJHAJJAJ
Bye <3
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itsohh · 9 months ago
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Flying Too Close to the Sun
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AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.
Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.
Word count: 6746
Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut
Masterlist AO3
Greece 2020 
“All I ask is that you give it a go-” 
“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior. 
Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you. 
“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?��� You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”
“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”
“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table. 
It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry. 
“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you. 
“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”
-
 England 2024
The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you. 
Sam Fisher. 
“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”
“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”
“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”
Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up. 
“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear. 
Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food. 
“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table. 
“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.
“I'm your wildcard?”
“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”
“And what is this Sam?” 
“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face. 
“I want to assign him to your care.”
“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”
“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took. 
“Azami. She joined after you left-”
“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious. 
“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless. 
“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”
“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”
“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”
“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”
“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”
“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”
“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.” 
He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”
-
Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only. 
You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.
In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed. 
You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top. 
“What's this?” You asked. 
He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table. 
“Uniform.” 
You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow. 
“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”
“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “
You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar. 
Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died. 
“This here is your pager.” 
“Pager?”
“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.” 
“Alright.”
“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.” 
Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second. 
“Better get moving then.”
-
Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.” 
“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”
“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.
“Interrogation?”
“Yeah, doing it here.”
You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already. 
He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you. 
“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.” 
“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.
“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?” 
“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh. 
“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.” 
-
So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale. 
Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room. 
To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”
“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg. 
“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.” 
“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed. 
“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him. 
“Going somewhere?” He asked. 
“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound. 
“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”
“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed. 
He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”
“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”
“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”
“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.” 
The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside. 
Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted. 
“I told you not to move.”
“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice. 
“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.” 
His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”
“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr. 
Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again. 
The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway. 
You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched. 
Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off. 
The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.” 
You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.” 
“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door. 
“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.” 
“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him. 
“How's the rest of the base?”
“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit. 
“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled. 
“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.” 
“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room. 
“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”
At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed. 
Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”
“Are you planning to do something?” She accused. 
“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”
“No.”
At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”
“Why are you so protective of him?”
“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”
Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room. 
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair. 
“All this fuss for little ol’ me…” 
“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.” 
-
After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you. 
“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”
“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”
“I don't take chances.”
Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment. 
A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.” 
Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”
-
A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake. 
There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table. 
You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep. 
There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on. 
Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms. 
Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver. 
Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall. 
The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand. 
A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly. 
Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr. 
“Stay in your room, Gerald.”
“Room? This cell? I don't think so.” 
Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger. 
You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground. 
Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw. 
“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”
Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke. 
“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”
“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”
He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.” 
You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up. 
“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?” 
“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”
“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”
“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips. 
“Why?”
“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.” 
“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”
Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken. 
“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”
“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier. 
�� Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were. 
The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head. 
-
Would have it been better if you stayed in bed? 
A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”
Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch. 
“It's bruised but you can handle that.” 
You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything. 
“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.” 
He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”
He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”
“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”
“Even if it meant killing you in the process?” 
“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.
“Open up sweetheart.” 
You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed. 
“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”
“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”
“It's been two days. Eat.” 
“You knocked me out for two days?!”
“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed. 
“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed. 
Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face. 
“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”
“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”
“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”
Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that. 
“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.” 
Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.” 
“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope. 
You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover. 
You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused. 
A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.
The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked. 
The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck. 
He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name. 
“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“To me, your presence changes everything. ”
His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.
“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it. 
“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”
“Fuck you!”
The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together. 
“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”
This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you. 
He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him. 
“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”
Your breath hitched and he paused his movement. 
“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”
“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”
“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”
“You're a bastard.” 
His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.
“I'm not hearing a no.” 
You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more. 
“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance. 
“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”
“I…”
“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.” 
Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone. 
He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape. 
Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him. 
From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up. 
You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you. 
His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips. 
Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face. 
Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch. 
“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.” 
“I'm in my pyjamas- ”
He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease. 
Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in. 
Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.
“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside. 
All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall. 
There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.
Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest. 
“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears. 
The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him. 
Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.
-
Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings. 
You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.
The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table. 
No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it. 
You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks. 
They weren't. 
“What are you planning to do with that birdy?” 
Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form. 
You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised. 
“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people. 
“And why’s that?”
“You killed people.”
“And you haven't?”
“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”
“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”
“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”
“I did what was right to stop-”
“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.” 
Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet. 
“Don't move.”
He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes. 
“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”
His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.
Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back. 
“Not going to shoot?”
“Rainbow wants you alive.”
He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”
“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence. 
You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed. 
132 notes · View notes
slxsherwriter · 1 year ago
Text
The Little Wheel Squeals
Fandom: Joy Ride
Pairing: Rusty Nail x reader
Word Count: 1,768
Warnings: None
Author's note: Part one of the Nanowrimo fics that I am attempting. The next part in my Rusty Nail series. Hope everyone enjoys. As always, not Beta read.
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A heavy sigh escaped you as the last remnants of glass were swept up and into the dust bin, to be tossed away and forgotten. A reminder that while you were mostly alone out here, you weren't completely alone. Being on your own didn't bother you, after all you knew that Rusty needed to be on the road for extended periods of time. It was just what the job was. Nothing that he could be faulted for or have held against him. You had known that at the very start, plenty of life experience telling you that it was something that you could handle. But it was moments like these, when idiots decided to break in, thinking that no one was home or that the house was abandoned, that being on your own felt a little unnerving and had you longing for the moment that Rusty was walking back through that door.
You had been home this time when the window had smashed, the sound reaching you upstairs, where the knock had not. Immediately, you had been concerned and reached for the bat that had been insisted upon for protection in his absence. They hadn't been a very difficult group to deal with, actually for the most part not looking to cause any trouble. Simply looking for help, which you were happy to give. Even if the one guy in the group caused you to feel uneasy. A feat that took a lot given your typical generous, forgiving nature. Something had just seemed off about him, causing you to keep the bat close while you allowed them to use the phone to call out for someone to pick them up. Their car had broken down at some point miles up the road and they had been wandering since.
The story was believable. It happened more often than not around here since your home was situated in nearly the middle of nowhere. Rusty had told after he had first shown you the house that he had picked the spot because of the land and the privacy. It was an oasis, a place to go away from people and away from the mess of being on the road. A concept that was easy to digest and something that could be understood on a deep level. After all, when your father had come home, he had said the same thing. Apparently though, more stragglers than anticipated tended through the area.
Still, you had taken to the home, not quite moving in but spending far more time at his place than your own, which was technically the next state over. You occasionally would head home on weekends, especially ones that he worked. The old house was not something that you could bring yourself to get rid of and debated asking Rusty to move out with you. It wasn't quite as isolated but it was a piece of paradise all on it's own. The thought of the conversation once again swirled before being tossed to the side for later examination.
Seeing them picked up and head off had a relief washing over you, enough so to make you sag back against the porch for just a second. There was work that needed to be done. Namely, cleaning up the rest of the broken glass and finish patching up what you could of the window until there was a new one delivered. Windows were always a pain in the ass.
As the glass hit the bottom of the can, you were greeted with the sound of a deep rumbling engine. Rusty was home. All the worry from before, the agitation, and concern over the man that had made you feel uneasy melted away. He was finally home.
Moving to the front door to greet him, you watched as his shoulders dropped from where they had been tensed, how his fingers unfurled, hands hanging loosely at his sides for a moment, and a small, genuine smile come to his face. Whether he realized you were there or not yet remained unknown, but you took in the moment to appreciate the fact that he was finally relaxing.
"Welcome home," you finally offered as you moved over without any prompting and wrapped your arms around him. Road grim be damned, you needed a shower anyway.
"Hey, sweetheart." The words came out in that comforting rumble that had you closing your eyes before you could help it. The heavy, familiar weight of his arm dropping to your shoulders was an added bonus as he hugged you back. "Missed you."
"Missed you too. Trip was too long this time." As much as you wanted to agree, there was also a fear of him interpreting it as a concern about his occupation.
"It was a long one this time. But you're home now and that is what matters." You sighed softly as you took a deep breath in. "Why don't you go shower up and I'll get something thrown together for you to eat." You would ask him about the plans for the evening after that, letting him get in the door and truly relaxed after it all. Which meant cleaned up with a proper shower and a good meal that wasn't from a truck stop diner.
"Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. Jacket on the hook and boots off, he headed towards the bathroom, entirely missing the broken window that you still had to finish at least patching up so nothing could get through it and into the house during the night. Both animals and insects. Food for Rusty first.
You were finishing with the little makeshift board when he came wandering back into the room, smelling of his eucalyptus shower gel and something else. Without the hat on, his eyes were clear and obviously focused right on you.
"What happened?" That hard edge that he was careful to keep from you came out. Always the protective one. "And when?"
"This evening. Small group came around, thinking that no one was home. They needed to call for help. Let them use the phone after everything was explained and they headed off maybe about an hour before you got home?" You watched as something changed, the tension in his jaw obvious from the clench. All before it vanished. "It wasn't anything too bad. They are gone and it's over." there seemed to be gears turning as his eyes jumped from you to look around the room. Or a simple method of calming himself down.
"You sure?"
"Watched them drive off myself. Made the one that offered to stay behind for the tow truck go right along with them and had the bat at my side the entire time."
"That's a good girl." The praise sent a little warmth through you but now was not the time.
"Come on, eat your food before it gets cold. Then, can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?" You just wanted to be close, feeling him against you, smell him. Be encompassed by his presence in every sense possible. Rusty was safety and had been that since he had first picked you up on the side of the road. And you were admittedly still feeling a little off. Not a fact that you wanted to disclose to the man. The anger disappeared after a long second before he was walking over to you and his warm lips met your forehead.
"Course, darling. If that's what you want, that's what we will do."
"Only after you eat." Wanting to make sure he was taken care of, you had to insist that he ate before anything else. He glanced at the plate before chuckling softly.
"How about this? We curl up on the couch, and I eat while having you laying against me?" That impossibly large hand that you loved, pressed against your hip though he didn't move to bring you any closer together.
"I think I can settle on that compromise." Leaning up, your lips brushed over his cheek this time, a gentle affection that you were happy to shower the man in since he did it in return.
"Good. Go turn on the TV and find something to watch. I'll be right there." He used the touch that he had on you to send you off towards the living room. All would be right in the world with a night of snuggling close to your man. You made sure to stop at the closet and grab that worn blanket that was just perfect for the cooler nights. Though Rusty was practically a human furnace. Still, it was fun to have you both under it and cuddled together. It gave that nice cozy feeling that could put you right to sleep, no matter what was happening around you or had happened.
Settling on the couch, it only took Rusty an additional two minutes to join you, a plate of chicken and potatoes piled practically sky high. Oh yeah, he was fine and hadn't needed dinner at all. You could have laughed at the portions, but then again, he was a big man. You pulled the blanket back, knowing that he would need to eat before he could get under it, least anything ended up on it.
There was a relieved groan as he settled back into the worn couch, kicking his legs out in front of him.
"Anything else happen while I was away?" You shook your head.
"No, it was pretty quiet. I honestly thought I was going to get away with no one showing up before you got home from this trip." Reaching out, your hand lightly rubbed the back of his neck while he began to eat.
"Shouldn't have been anyone at all." You laughed softly.
"Kinda hard to be in a spot where no one else exists. We are pretty close for the most part." He grunted around a mouthful of potato but didn't say anything else about it. Neither did you, choosing to let him eat the remainder of the meal in silence.
The plate had barely hit the table beside the couch when he had his arm around you. The familiar weight and warmth immediately had you melting against him, shifting and resting your head against his shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you felt truly at ease for the first time all day.
"Comfortable?"
"Never been better." A low rumbling laugh left him and you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head.
"Can't say I can complain about a homecoming like this."
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summerdiphylleia · 1 year ago
Text
The next right thing
Chapter 2: The Quarter Quell Announcement
Summary: The 74th Hunger Games were over, and Felicia ought to have anticipated how often she'd find herself pondering over what could've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.
pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
***********
“One.”
“Two.” 
“Three.”
Felicia forced her eyes shut, waiting for the bangs that announced the death of the tributes to go off, but they never did. She flinched when the voice of a man echoed through the room instead. 
“Stop!”
If Seneca Crane had been a smarter man, he would’ve kept quiet. 
“Stop!” She heard the gamemaker shout once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.” 
Felicia went still, as images of the District 12 tributes –victors, she corrected herself– embracing each other glided through the screen. She knew she ought to feel happy about it, surely all of the Capitol was celebrating, but Felicia couldn’t bring herself to share such joy. She was happy the tributes –victors– were alive, but she’d seen something more in their actions than simply two young people in love that could not survive without each other. She’d seen defiance. And she was sure her husband had seen it too. A daunting frown claimed her face, and her hands were closed into fists so tight she could barely feel her nails attempting to dig into the skin of her palms. Katniss Everdeen had defied the Capitol, and the Capitol had allowed it. Worse, it had rewarded it. 
The television had gone black by the time she jumped from her seat, and started hurrying through the manor’s empty hallways. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lan was following her path. He moved like a cat, barely making any sound, but the man had been like a shadow to her for the most of twenty years, and took his job of protecting her very seriously. He was a tall man, surprisingly fit for someone who was around her age. More often than not a calculating scowl claimed his features; and she took pride in knowing that his rare smiles were reserved for her. She didn’t like thinking about what she’d do without him. 
“Don’t do anything foolish, Felicia.” He warned her, taking up a vigilant stance just outside the room. It had been nothing but a whisper, but she had understood. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, her apprehension mirrored in his gaze, and she nodded, before moving forward. 
Felicia walked into the sunroom, and found her husband tending to the roses. He was standing with his back towards her, but she could already tell he was livid. He stood rigid in his feet, as his arms worked stiffly against the flowers, occasionally cutting them with more force that was necessary. 
She approached him, keeping a steady, dull pace. “Coriolanus?” She asked, calmly. 
The President didn’t move at the sound of her voice, as if he had been expecting her already. He kept on trimming the roses, and a heavy silence filled the air between the two. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked, voice trembling just the slightest. He turned around, slightly taken aback by her question. It wasn’t usual at all for her to acknowledge such things, and he didn’t like it when she stepped out of his comfort zone. It wasn’t her place to question his actions. He let confusion show on his face for just a few seconds, before his lips split into a smile.
“Well, he had a very simple choice to make. I’m just going to present him with another very simple choice.” He shrugged, as he drew nearer her, while cleaning the pruning scissors on a cloth.
Felicia gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in her place. “And her?” She wondered if she was crossing a line by making such a question, a dangerous line. She’d always been so sure such a thing would never exist when it came to her, as she’d always spoken somewhat freely around her husband, but the look on the President’s face made her think otherwise.
She insisted that the Games were barbaric and maintained her stance on that. In return, he insisted that they were necessary and maintained his stance on that. It had always been like that. But never had someone from the districts dare to defy him in the way Katniss Everdeen just had. Or at least they hadn’t done so in front of the cameras, showcasing their actions to the whole of Panem. 
“As long as she understands that what she’s done, she’s done for love, she should be no problem.” He said, throwing the scissors into a cushion. “You must be happy with how everything turned out.” He muttered, as he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek. 
“I am,” she sighed, frozen by his touch, “two children get to live.”
“Hm, darling,” he chuckled, leaving a kiss on her temple, “you can be so naive sometimes.” 
*********** 
The Games were left behind and the air started to cool, as Felicia eased into her usual routine once again. She wrote letters, attended charity events and couture fittings, helped Theodore with his Academy homework, bought unnecessary decoration for the mansion, visited her children at the hospital; hosted hollow, vacuous parties for Panem’s high society. 
With the cold, her already aching arthritis got worse, and she was instructed by her medics to use a walking staff, to help her ease her sore ankles. But it only helped in making her feel impossibly old. 
“Everyone’s going to make fun of me!” Felicia complained one night, in front of her family.  She stood barefoot against the velvety rug, switching the cane from one hand to the other, playfully showing it off. Her two older children had come to the manor for a casual dinner earlier, and the five of them had moved onto the sitting room to enjoy some tea. Night had fallen terribly cold outside, but the interiors of the manor were warm and cosy, as it had been instructed that every fireplace within shall be lighted.
“You’re Panem’s First Lady,” Arabella laughed, “no one is going to make fun of you.” She remarked, as she sat next to Coriolanus on the sofa, with a cup of warm tea in her hand. Max and Arabella had been spending so much more time in the manor lately, and Felicia was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Whether their newfound fondness for being with her stemmed from a sense of responsibility as she aged or a simple desire to visit her, she didn’t know. She chose to believe the latter. 
“But surely everyone will think of me as an old bat,” she whined in a silly fashion, as Max walked towards her. 
“I promise no one will think that”, he reassured her, while resting a gentle arm around her shoulders. 
“Hm, I might.” Coriolanus sneered from his place on the couch, holding back a smile. 
Felicia gasped, and theatrically put a hand against her chest, pretending to be utterly offended at his comment. Arabella grabbed a cushion and playfully hit him with it, “no you won’t!” She warned his father, as the two boys kept on cackling.
“Best thing about this staff, mom,” Theo explained, taking the walking stick from her hands, weighing it in his hands,“is that if anyone dares making such comments, you get to do this!” He dashed against his father, and repeatedly patted on him with it, acting as if he were hitting him. 
The boy’s action managed to break Coriolanus’ stoic facade, and his laughter started to echo through the room alongside the rest of his family’s.
Scenes like that one repeated themselves in the months that followed, as snow stubbornly settled into the city, and life in the Capitol finally appeared to be returning back to normal. But Felicia heard the reports —information not meant for her ears, but the manor could be an awfully small place to keep such volatile secrets. Rebellions were happening all over the country; no amount of peacekeepers were enough to keep the insurrection in District 8 at bay, and District 11 was at the brink of following their lead. 
Coriolanus refused to share such things with her, limiting his conversations with her to trivial matters, which had started to put a veil between the two. He kept on retreating into himself, and she noticed he was being more paranoid than ever; cameras had made their way into every room in the manor, their bedroom included. And, although she had no way of proving it, she was sure she’d also heard the distinct sound of jabberjays’ echoes around the gardens. Felicia couldn’t help but worry once again about having spoken out of turn after the Games. 
She was settling into bed one night, later than usual, about to read for a while, when her husband walked into the room, coat still on, snowflakes only just melting into the fur. She hadn’t seen him in three days. It wasn’t usual of him to disappear like that. 
“Coriolanus!” She gasped, and got out of bed as quickly as her wrists allowed her, to help him get out of his heavy clothes. She took his coat and scarf, and left them on the sofa right outside the crystal doors to their bedroom. 
“Where were you?” She asked, out of breath, as she wrapped her hands around her chest. The manor wasn’t cold, but a chill had somehow still managed to run through her spine. He reached down towards her, and kissed her with a closed mouth. “You should go back to bed, dearest, it’s already late.” He gently pushed her aside, and strided towards the bed. 
“But where were you, really?” She repeated herself, following his motion. 
“District 12.” He uttered, pulling the bedding over. And by the way he said those words, Felicia knew she wasn’t allowed to ask any questions. She just nodded, pursing her lips, and let him embrace her, as she closed her eyes. 
*********** 
Felicia wished for but one thing: to go to bed. Her feet hurt, her face felt too tight, and she was bored out of her mind. Yet, as the First Lady, her role at such events had but one purpose: to introduce people, excuse the President’s absence, and, most importantly, look radiant. At least she had managed the latter, or rather, her stylists had.
On that morning, a whole assembly of them had barged into her room to prepare her for the evening party. They had bathed her, coloured her hair, applied makeup to her face, and dressed her. Her stylist had chosen a metallic purple dress with an asymmetrical cut, paired with a golden undergown that stood out on her chest and highlighted her legs. Matching heels and shimmering makeup completed the look. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon adorned with golden accessories Tigris had once given her as a present. She knew her picture would be plastered all over the newspapers as the best–dressed of the evening.
“Ms. Cardew, may I have a dance with you?” Felicia heard a man’s voice behind her, as she sipped on what must’ve been her fifth glass of wine that night, but she paid no mind to it, it wasn’t directed to her, or at least she thought so. The music was too loud and the lights were too bright, her head had started to hurt and it was difficult to discern scenes on her whereabouts.
“Ms. Cardew?” She heard again, and seconds later she felt someone put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 
Felicia had but turned around that Lan was already on her side, discreetly putting himself between her and the stranger. She studied the man for a moment, and then exchanged subtle glances with the bodyguard. Lan left at once, and Felicia extended a hand towards the man in front of her. 
Plutarch Heavensbee. A plump, middle–aged man, and frighteningly clever, maybe too much for his own sake. 
“Ms. Cardew,” he repeated himself, leaving a polite kiss on her hand,“you look the epitome of grace in this sea of extravagance. I apologise for frightening you.” 
“Mr. Heavensbee,” she smiled, “it’s me who should apologise; I didn’t realise you were speaking to me, I’m afraid it’s been years since I was last called by my maiden name.” Thirty eight years, to be precise. 
He hummed in response. “Would you care to join me for a dance?” She really didn’t want to. The wine had started to make her feel light–headed, and her ankles were sore.
“I’d be delighted, Mr. Heavensbee.” She smiled, allowing him to take her a few steps down into the dancing floor. People moved around, making space for them, and the cameras that followed. 
Felicia rested one hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her back, and they started to glide across the room, matching their steps with the music. 
“I thought that you could do with some invigorating conversation.” He leaned towards her, to avoid the cameras and people around from hearing their conversation. 
“Well you know what a rare thing that can be here in the Capitol.” She replied in a murmur, with a cheeky smile directed towards the cameras. “I hear you’re to be our new Gamemaker.” 
“Ah, news travel fast in the Capitol,” he smirked, “yes, I’ve been appointed as the new Head Gamemaker.” 
“A very prestigious position,” she smiled, as he made her twirl, “I suppose congratulations are in order.” 
Plutarch nodded with a meekly gesture, turning the corners of his lips downwards. “Thank you, Felicia. It's a role that demands creativity and innovation, wouldn't you say?” He added, raising an eyebrow. 
“Indeed,” she agreed, as she relished in the small amount of bravery the alcohol had given her, and added “although I must admit, the… nature of such creativity often leaves me conflicted.” 
The man simply stared at her, with an implacable expression on his face, making it difficult for Felicia to assert how he felt about her statement. 
“The Games are a spectacle, Felicia, but the true spectacle often lies in the shadows. Oh? It's all a matter of perspective, really.” He stated, with an esoteric look on his face. She was about to comment on it, but he interrupted her. “I’ve recently met your two oldest children.”
“You have?” Felicia asked, slightly taken aback. “And why is that?”
“I had to spend a couple of days at the hospital a handful of weeks ago, nothing too serious luckily. Very bright children indeed. I can see they’ve inherited your intelligence—
“Oh Mr. Heavensbee,” Felicia chuckled, feigning modesty ,“you’re being too—
“And defiance.” He cut her off, voice barely audible, as he had leaned in towards her so much, his mouth brushed her cheek. 
Felicia went still. “What…?” She began to ask, but they were interrupted. 
“Plutarch Heavesbee!” The voice of a woman resounded in her ears, even above the music. She was accompanied by two other people. Felicia, who was still hesitating on how to feel about Plutarch’s statement, almost jumped at the sight of them. 
“Katniss. Peeta.” The flashy woman clamoured. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. Successor to Seneca Crane.” 
“That’s a tough act to follow.” The young man commented, shaking Plutarch’s hand.
“Peeta!” 
Plutarch just laughed, as he seemed to have found the comment amusing rather than somewhat unpleasant. “May I introduce you to Felicia Snow?” He said, pointing towards her. 
“Mrs. Snow,” The woman said, with a modest curtsy, “you look radiant, as always.” 
“Thank you, Euphemia, you look very lovely yourself. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.” Felicia added, nervously staring at the two teenagers, who returned a polite smile and shook her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thank you, we are very happy about it.” Peeta answered, as a grin claimed all of his features. How intriguing. He genuinely seemed happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, with a soft smile, “they show you all the time on the television, you’re even more beautiful in person.” 
“Oh,” she giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, in a flustered fashion, “well, my stylists are very good at their jobs. How are you enjoying the party?”
“It’s excessive.” Katniss was quick to answer, her voice steady. 
Felicia smiled graciously, acknowledging the tension between herself and Katniss. The dance floor seemed to tighten around them, as they got caught between the profligacy of the Capitol and the stark reality of the Games.
“The Capitol has its own way of celebrating, doesn’t it? But I agree, the extravagance can be a little overwhelming.” 
“Overwhelming is an understatement.” The girl answered, bluntly, eyes staring into Felicia’s. 
“What Katniss means,” Peeta was quick intervene, “well, it is a bit much, but make it any simpler and you might as well deprive the Capitol of all its fun, right?”  
Katniss shot him a quick side–eye, and then forced a smile on her face, turning towards her once again. Felicia offered her a weak smile. She could tell the girl didn’t like her, and Felicia understood that. She privately boasted about not enjoying Games, commended herself on being –What, exactly? Morally superior to the rest?– and yet had never actively acted against them, except for complaining. Nothing but sanctimonious bluff. She was in no way better than the rest; no different than those gaudy, self–absorbed, fake individuals she so very bragged about not tolerating.  I am no better than my husband. 
Felicia realised that she wouldn’t be able to keep on feigning a smile in her face for that much longer, and studied the room around her. There were many other people lingering around them, waiting to talk to the victors, staring with jealousy at her. She briskly made her excuses, claiming she was expected to make some introductions, and left. 
She tried walking in a straight line through the path she knew would eventually lead to her room, but such an action was proving difficult with the amounts of alcohol she had in her blood. Her movements were marked by an unsteady sway, and more than once, she stumbled over her own feet, struggling to maintain her balance. 
Lan found her before she could make a spectacle of herself, discreetly grabbing her by the waist, and quickly guided her away from the party. He didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic drunkenness, and they settled instead for a calm stroll, thankful that the ear–splitting noises from the party were nothing but a muffled sound at that point. 
Minutes into their walk she looked up towards him, and sullenly leaned into him. “They hate me you know,” she whispered, lips turning into a pout and eyes glossy, as he led her through the empty hallways of the manor, “Katniss and Peeta.” 
But voicing such thoughts didn’t bring her any solace; she didn’t get to complain that her actions, or rather the lack of them, had had consequences. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop from falling into her cheeks. 
“They don’t hate you.” Lan comforted her, eyes softening. She looked up towards him, locking her gaze on his. He had such a gentle stare; warm, soft watercolour eyes that reminded her of the sea. She wondered if he ever missed the ocean, if he ever missed his district. District 4. They weren’t strangers to the Games over there either. She wondered how much he’d suffered by her actions, surely he’d been affected by the Games at some point. No one could escape from that, her husband made sure of it. 
“Yes they do,” she whimpered, lips quivering, clumsily wiping the tears on her face, “and they have every reason for doing so.” 
*********** 
Winter weaved into spring, and the Capitol once again started buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Games. Games unlike any other, for that year marked the 75th Hunger Games, the most anticipated Quarter Quell. It turned the citizens crazy, which was the ultimate goal Felicia supposed, through the introduction of twists and challenges that made each iteration unforgettable. They served as a reminder of the Capitol’s control and a testament to its capacity for innovation in the pursuit of entertainment. 
Felicia started to see Plutarch Heavensbee more often than not around the manor, holding private, clandestine discussions with her husband. The significance of these meetings left Coriolanus with scarce time for her, reducing their exchanges to the necessities, often focused on their children. He no longer slept in their shared bedroom, except when his personal needs dictated otherwise. Oddly enough, she always welcomed him. It felt good to be desired. 
She was less than excited when Coriolanus announced she was expected at the presentation of the Quarter Quell, but as always she simply forced an amicable smile into her face and waded through the charade. Standing once again before the entirety of the Capitol, Felicia steeled herself for the announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.
“...and now on this,” her husband spoke to the microphone, standing in the atrium above the Avenue of the Tributes, “the 75th Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.”
A most imperceptible frown appeared in Felicia’s forehead, puzzled by such remark. He wouldn’t. 
 “On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He declared, as his lips turned into a very subtle smile. Gasps born from indignation erupted from the crowds, and for the first time in all her years as the First Lady, Felicia's façade crumbled. Her eyes widened, and she brusquely turned her head towards the President. Though her lack of composure lasted but a moment, she knew he would have noticed. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation…” She could hear Coriolanus still talking, but it felt as if he were speaking from a distant, muffled place. 
She fled to her bedroom as promptly as she was allowed, hunted by the screams of Cato under the mutts.
*********** 
“This is your doing, and the consequences shall rest upon your shoulders.”
No, she kept on shaking her head, as tears fell on her cheeks, none of this would've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.
*********** 
I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it
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staytinyville · 1 year ago
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OUTLAW (47)
ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader
Cowboy AU / Wild West
Series Masterlist
Warning: none
A/N NOT BETA READ. We have only two more chapters left of this arc! After that I might be taking a break for a bit. Not only to focus on some original novels I have planned but to also have a few chapters ready for you all to read. Cause this having to write chapters the day of updating--hate it lol.
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It was a quick affair for when someone had come in to take away Hendricks. He struggled for a moment but after Wooyoung got annoyed with the man’s shouting and fighting, he was quick to shove a rag into the man’s mouth. Seeing as he was cuffed, Hendricks was only able to huff and puff into the fabric. 
When you turned back around to face Klein you watched as he was looking over the papers once more. He had a somber look on his face, one of regret as he sighed at each word that seemed to process into his head. 
“I'd like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Klein said, not meeting any of your eyes. 
“You don't seem like it.” Hongjoong raised his brows, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the man. 
“You're still criminals in the eyes of the public.” Klein finally looked up, sighing to himself as his eyes skimmed over all nine of you. 
“We understand.” You spoke up. “You're a respectable man who has a city to protect.”
You watched as Klein suddenly thought about the entire town, going back to clenching his jaw as he began to think lowly of himself. It was a tough job to take on, especially for a town that was the second most populated. You were never going to be able to make everyone happy, but you were able to make the world a better place. At least in your own image.
Your family had always supported Klein–a vast majority of the town did–so he must have felt a heavy pressure on his shoulders knowing that he was close to putting all of them in danger. There aren't many people you are able to trust when it comes to positions in office, especially not with times growing more and more. People were getting greedy as things began to change, which led to problems. But that shouldn’t stop the few who were trying to keep things at peace from doing what they must. 
While Klein had the right intentions–wanting to see Cromer grow into a modern city–he didn’t realize he would fall into a pit of snakes. Human era was inevitable. You were just glad to have stopped everything before it got too far. 
“Will you leave soon?” Klein asked. 
“We have a mission to finish.” Yunho explained. “This was only a side quest.” He chuckled.
Klein huffed a little laugh, pressing his lips together. “This drug.” He asked, tapping on the papers and envelopes. “What happens if it gets out?”
“The world falls.” Seonghwa answered. “It becomes baron of the joys we see everyday.”
“We've seen what it could do.” Jongho called from the back of the group. “It's not something this world should suffer from.”
“Why hasn't Aurora done anything then?” Klein shook his head, not understanding the whole thing. 
“They don't have evidence to prove corruption yet.” Hongjoong told the mayor. “That's what we've been trying to do for the past couple of years.”
The man took a moment to gather his thoughts before moving to grab the things from his desk. “Here.” Klein began to gather all the papers between Quaid and Hendricks, handing them over to you. “Take these then.” He told you.
“What about Quaid?” Mingi asked.
“I've already sent people after him.” Klein answered the boy. “We'll take care of him here in Cromer seeing as it's my jurisdiction.” He turned to look at you, giving you a thankful bow of his head. “Should anything else come to light though, I'll be sure to send word to you.”
“Thank you, Mayor Klein.” You smiled in thanks. 
You watched as he suddenly clapped his hands, rubbing them together. He gave you all a raise of his brow, pursing his lips. “You've all committed crimes that should be punishable but it seems to me you're all hard to catch.”
All of you suddenly looked at him oddly, frowning a bit at his words. You were a bit worried that Klein would somehow punish the boys for all they had done, but as you registered the rest of his sentence you concluded that wasn’t going to be the case. 
“You're letting us go?” You said, being the first to realize what it was he meant. 
“If what you say is true about this drug, then it seems we have a common enemy.” Klein nodded to himself. “I have a city full of people to keep safe. It's what I signed up for as mayor of Cromer.” He took a breath, coming to a stand. “I'll tell the city it wasn't you who stole the money.”
“Tell them you had money left over.” Hongjoong suggested. “You'll be seen as the hero again.”
“As much as one would love to take credit for that, I could not.” Klein shook his head. “I was going to send that money somewhere terrible. I could never live with myself had you not taken it.”
Your shoulders dropped at the man’s convention. He was right in thinking a majority of people would have loved to take the glory and credit for saving the town, but Klein wasn’t a majority of people. He was someone selfless who took care of others first. It was something each of the boys were quick to realize after speaking with him more. 
At least by what you could tell from the looks on their faces. 
“What will you say then?” Wooyoung asked. 
“The truth.” Klein spoke up, smiling as he thought it over. “ATEEZ were the ones who took the money.” He smiled, watching as the boys all gave him skeptical looks. 
“They have never seen your faces.” The mayor added. “I don’t believe they will suspect 8 handsome, young men who work for one of Cromer’s hotels. Unless you have warranted for people to think that.” Klein joked. 
The boys all looked at each other for a moment, humming in thought as they pondered on what they had all done so far in your town. “They haven’t.” You answered for them, sending them looks that called for them to behave. 
You turned back to Klein, bowing your head and giving him a smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Klein nodded his head, giving you a kind smile as well. 
Just as the boys all turned one by one to leave the office, you suddenly gasped, stopping to turn back around. “One more thing!” You called back.
“Yes?” Klein answered. 
“My father.” You began. “He's kind of in jail at the moment.”
Klein laughed, nodding in understandment. “I'll have him released, don't worry.”
“Thank you, Mayor.” You bowed one more time, turning to Hongjoong who waited closer to you.
“Be careful on your mission.” Klein called out before you all left the door. “It doesn't seem easy.” He added. 
You watched as the boys gave each other knowing looks again, Hongjoong sighing as he bowed his head. “It never is.”
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Series Masterlist
@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie
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sunshinesickies · 5 months ago
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Warrior Nun Ava x Beatrice Sickfic
Could We Be More?
(Set during their time in the Alps aka when they’re both actually happy)
“Uh…boss?” A deep voice comes from behind Beatrice. Setting down her pencil, she looks up at him from where she sits, prompting him to continue with a slight raise of her eyebrow.
“Ava has a shift today, right?” Hans questions and Bea feels her heart skip a beat at the mere mention of Ava’s name, though her expression remains neutral. No such signs of her sudden emotions. “Yes…” She glances at her watch, “her shift started 30 minutes ago.” She informs, looking back to the Swiss bartender, her heart rate beginning to rise.
His hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “That’s the thing, well, I know you don’t like to reprimand her when she’s late but um, well, she’s still not here.” He ends with a nod, saying what he needed and swiftly turning on his heels, heading back down to the bar, leaving Beatrice’s heart pounding. Ava was never this late. She’d been so caught up in counting inventory that she hadn’t noticed the younger woman hasn’t shown up yet. How could she possibly lose track of her? It was her job to keep the Warrior Nun safe.
W-what if…no. No what ifs. Not until necessary, Bea thinks. Taking out her phone, she calls Ava, once, twice…three times, going to voicemail each time. Okay, maybe now she can worry. Immediately she shoves her things into her bag and rushes downstairs.
“Hans, you good by yourself today? I’ll double your pay and you can have all the tips from tonight.” Beatrice offers, having no doubt he can handle the bar alone, but feeling bad leaving him to do everything.
He simply nods. “Sure. Thanks boss. Did you contact Ava? Is she alright?” He anxiously asks about his friend. The young woman always seems to bring a sense of light and joy wherever she goes and her absence so far is definitely starting to be noticed by the bar’s regulars.
Beatrice lets out a sigh. “Thanks, Hans. You’re the best. And no, I’m going to look for her now.” With that, Bea rushes outside and runs practically the whole way back to the small, old apartment she’s been sharing with Ava. She actually does run the whole way up the three floors of stairs to get to their door. Stopping a moment to catch her breath, Bea then quickly enters, her bag being thrown on the kitchen table as her wide eyes scan the small apartment.
There’s no evidence that Ava’s still there. Nothing misplaced, no dishes in the sink. It was easy to see that she wasn’t in the adjoining living room or dining area. That leaves the bedroom. Bea is across the room in seconds, pausing outside Ava’s closed door and giving a gentle knock.She lets herself in when there’s no response. Squinting her eyes in the sudden darkness of the room, her eyes quickly adjust and easily make out an Ava-sized lump in the bed.
Beatrice’s whole body relaxes as she lets out the breath she’d been holding. The sight of seeing the sleeping Halo Barer, safe and sound brought her emotions back to normal. Swiftly and silently, she crosses the room and Ava’s face domes into view as she stands by the side of the bed. The younger woman is still asleep, which Bea finds odd. She knows Ava loves to sleep in occasionally but so far, during their life here in the Alps, she hasn’t missed work once.
Though, Bea thinks, she did seem abnormally tired last night. She’d skipped dinner and immediately gone to bed the second they’d gotten home, something Bea should have caught on to let her know something was off. Bea knows Ava’s been pushing herself during training and working extra hard at the bar, but the dirty-blonde always seems to have an unlimited supply of energy, always enjoying it all.
Bea watches the gentle rise and fall of Ava’s breath, looking so peaceful as she sleeps. All relaxed and adorable, curled up cozily in the blanket. Beatrice has to stop herself from reaching out to touch Ava’s face. She longs to graze her fingertips along the skin which she knows will be soft as silk.
Turning around, Bea has to tear her eyes away from Ava in order to keep control. But as she starts to walk away, leaving her to her obviously much needed rest, a small sounds stops Bea in her tracks. She turns back to see Ava’s eyes scrunch tighter, the rhythm of her breaths changing as her face twists into a distressed frown and her brows furrow slightly. The older woman immediately knows what’s going on and her suspicions are confirmed a moment later when Ava lets out a few more whimpers and starts tossing around, twisting herself deeper into the blankets as she continues to sleep.
She is having a nightmare. Bea knows them all too well. Many a night she would either wake up to a still dreaming Ava who thrashed around or a shaking Ava who had been startled awake by her night terrors. Each and every time, Beatrice is there to comfort her and it always works. Bea has learned that if she holds the Halo Barer tight and whispers soft reassurances in her ear, Ava always calms down in moments and is usually back to sleep not long after.
Reaching out a hand to gently cup her face, Bea lets her fingers graze along her cheek before ending up tangling them in the other girl’s soft, sandy brown hair. Her fingers gently scratch against her scalp in a soothing way that Ava must recognizes even in her sleep because she stops moving, quiets down and is breathing normally not even a minute later.
However, as Ava starts to relax, Beatrice’s worry only increases. The second she had touched her hand to Ava’s cheek, she’d noticed a strong heat radiating off her skin and when she felt her hair, it was slightly damp from sweat. Now Bea also notices the small beads of sweat that drip from Ava’s temples and the harsh pink blush that paints her cheeks behind her paler than normal skin.
Moving her hand to her forehead, Bea confirms that Ava is sporting a rather large fever. Everything clicks into place now and Bea sighs. She’s sick. “What am I going to do with you, Ava?” Bea speaks barely above a whisper as she gently slides her hand back down to Ava’s cheek, her fingertips as delicate as a butterfly’s touch.
It’s a useless question. Bea knows exactly what she’s going to do, she’s good at this sort of stuff. She’s going to take care of Ava to the best of her abilities. With yet another sigh, a thought bubbles in her mind. She should have known this was a possibility. While The Order doesn’t know everything about the Halo, they know it grants the barer extraordinary abilities, the ability to heal and come back from the dead. But since whatever bug Ava has isn’t life threatening, the Halo must not be doing much to ward off the sickness.
Silently, Bea carefully takes her finger from Ava’s face and walks to the door, but Ava, who must be sensing the lack of her presence, makes Bea stop in her tacks for the second time when she hears a small groan from behind her. “bea?” Ava’s voice is a raspy whisper that makes her throat catch, sending her into a small coughing fit. In the blink of an eye, Bea is by her side, her hand rubbing the girl’s back as the fit forces her into a sitting position.
“Shhh, you’re okay, breathe for me, Ava.” Beatrice takes slow, deep breaths, gently urging Ava to follow suit and soon the fit fades away. Bea holds Ava tight as she slumps against her strong body. Ava tries to murmuring something but with her dry throat and strong fever, it comes out as a raspy mix of slurred words that Bea can’t make out.
“What was that, darling?” Bea finds herself saying before she can stop herself from using the pet name, which fall from her lips so naturally, as if she’d been calling her that for years and not for the first time ever. Ava doesn’t seem to notice or react in anyway and Bea wonders if the feverish girl even hear her at all, but then Ava shifts slightly against her chest, her lips parting. “Can I have some water, please?” She whispers in a strained rasp that makes Bea wince ever so slightly at how painful it sounds. “Of course.” She speaks softly back, making quick work of untangling herself from Ava’s heavy limps and moving her so that she’s lying gently back against the pillows.
“I’ll be just a moment.” She promises, her fingers brushing a small, damp strand of hair from Ava’s face before walking to the apartment’s adjoining kitchen. Bea glances at Ava and sees her watching her, though her eyes flutter, fighting to stay open. Bea makes sure to stay in her view as she gathers a glass of water, some medicine and a cool damp cloth.
Ava watches Bea, never taking her eyes off her though it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. She’s not sure what’s going on or why she feels like this. Like she’d gotten super drunk then hit by a bus and punched into a wall. Ava tries to sit up a little straighter as Bea walks back over. She can see the worry on the older girl’s face. Ava hates that look. She hates to worry people. Hates being a burden. So she flails against the pillows for a moment, trying to get her clumsy limbs to cooperate until she’s sitting up a little more than before. Her chest feels heavy as she breathes and she’s surprised at how little energy she has after such a small movement.
As Bea approaches the small twin bed, she places a small tray on the side table, carefully holding a cup of water out to Ava. Ava mentally wills her arms to work as she reaches for the glass but Bea shakes her head, gently lowering Ava’s hands back down to her lap before bringing the glass to her dry lips. Ava takes a few slow sips, the cool water momentarily dulling the dry ache in her throat. She closes her eyes as she takes a few more and for a moment she thinks she should feel like she’s back at St. Michael’s, being bitterly taken care of by the old nuns, but she doesn’t. She wonders why the familiar action isn’t stirring up her trauma, until she opens her eyes again and meets the soft, caring gaze of Beatrice.
Beatrice. That’s the difference. Ava has never felt uncomfortable in her best friend’s presence nor has she ever felt like a burden to the quiet girl who seems to be a natural at taking are of her in a numerous amount of ways.
Ava pouts when Bea lifts the glass away from her lips and if she’d been more aware, she might have noticed the small flicker of a smile appearing and disappearing in the corner of Bea’s lips. “You have to take it slow, okay, Ava?” She sees Bea’s lips move but doesn’t quite register her words so she just nods slightly, willing to trust anything and everything that Bea has to offer. She really hasn’t known Beatrice all that long, but she’s the best friend Ava has ever had and she knows without a doubt that she would follow Bea to the end of the Earth if she’d ask her to. Ava feels her eyelids grown heavier, each passing second proving harder and harder to keep them open.
“No no, Ava wait.” She faintly registers someone’s soft voice say her name and she forces her eyes open to see a blurry Bea in front of her. Ava offers a small and her head droops slightly but she feels gentle fingers tilt it back up. “Just a moment, Ava. Then I promise you can sleep, okay?” Bea’s accented voice cuts through her foggy brain. She nods weakly, blinking fast to try and un-blurr her vision.
“Swallow this please.” Bea speaks and Ava opens her mouth, feeling Bea place a small pill on her tongue and for a second, panic swells inside her, her eyes widening, but her friend is quick to calm her. “It’s alright, Ava. I promise it’s only going to help you feel better, to help with that fever of yours.” Beatrice hums sincerely with a nod then holds the water back t Ava’s lips. “Good girl.” Bea praises when she drinks and swallows, coughing slightly as the pill feels like a rick in her tight throat. “Just rest now, Ava. Your body needs sleep.” Ava nods, her eyes already closing as she shifts to lay back down.
“Wait, Bea?” Ava mumbles, not sure what the other woman’s plan was, but hoping it doesn’t involve leaving. “Yes, Ava?” She sighs in relief when she hears Bea’s soft answer. “Wi-will you stay with me?” She pleads and immediately feels the bed dip as Bea sits down near her feet.
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Ava. I promise.” Bea’s words are enough for Ava to finally relax completely and she no sooner feels something soft and cool being set gently to her forehead. It feels so good against her hot skin. But as much as her body yearns for sleep, there’s something missing, something off, keeping her awake.
After a few minutes, Beatrice can tell she hasn’t fallen asleep yet and for a moment, she isn’t sure what to do before her desire gets the best of her and she place’s her hand gently to Ava’s flushed cheek, her thumb once more grazing along her fevered skin. “Is there anything else you need?” She hums quietly as to not startle the sleepy woman. Ava is silent for a minute and Bea almost thinks she’s fallen asleep after all but then she speaks, her voice tired, slurred and maybe even a little shy.
“Will you hold me?” Ava whispers and Bea’s breath hitches slightly at her request, her heart beating a bit faster as Ava’s hand reaches out to find her own. “Please?” She adds and Be mentally kicks herself for taking too long to answer and making Ava think she wouldn’t. Of course she would. She would do anything for the woman laying in front of her. Bea smiles at Ava who looks up at her with such pleading that it breaks her heart. She nods. “Of course, Ava.” She immediately moves to get into bed next to the now contented Halo Barer. Ava’s face visibly lights up when Bea does so.
The nun pulls the blanket around them, tucking it cozily around Ava as the exhausted woman lets out a happy sigh and leans into the warmth of her friend’s comforting arms. Her head rests atop her chest and she closes her eyes. Bea’s impossibly delicate fingers start to soothingly massage her head and as awful as Ava feels, she decides right here and now that there’s no where else she’d rather be than with Bea and her kind, gentle, loving touch that she’d been void of her while life brings her an immeasurable amount of peace.
As she drifts off to sleep, a faint thought settles it’s way into her head, whether it was in a dream or not she didn’t know, but she wonders if this could possibly be more, if they could ever be more and with that, she feels Bea softly kiss her hair before sleep finally welcomes her body home.
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reasonsmandy · 1 year ago
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Took you long enough
Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader
✧.* requested by anon — could you write a warren rojas x reader where it’s readers first time seeing warren not high. like she kinda realised that he’s this beautiful, adorable person that isn’t just a comedic relief side character. thanks! xx
✧.* summary — It wasn't often that you saw Warren sober, you could count the times on one hand. And on New Year's Eve when he showed himself vulnerable to you, something changed.
✧.* warnings — none.
✧.* word count — 2.5k
✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist
✧.* mandy's notes — Such a joy writing this, thank you so much for the ask. Hope you like it, good reading.
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Interviewer: Do you remember when you fell in love with him?
Y/n L/n: *smiles* Actually yeah…
You packed your jacket for the second time before leaving the house, wondering if you had everything in hand to enjoy your New Year's Eve at Camila and Billy's house. A few weeks ago you were all smoking on the porch of the old place where you all lived and had the idea to celebrate Billy's sobriety.
You had been the band's closest friend since they moved into the house next to yours. You were so excited by the idea of having artists like you so close that it didn't take long to be in their presence. When you met you still had no more than a supporting role in some simple jobs out there, so you spent your afternoons memorizing scripts as they rehearsed their songs.
You saved Christmas to spend with your family, but you'd be lying if you didn't say you were thinking about meeting up with your friends throughout the event.You go to knock on the door of Camila's house, strangely nervous, even though you knew that everyone there loved you very much, you still felt afraid that you were being an interruption in the get-together of friends for years. Before you can knock the drummer's voice makes you jump in fright.
“Hey bella, took you long enough.” His voice was in a different tone, you turn to look at him and see him completely dressed in black.
You take a moment to let your heart beats regulate, also taking advantage of the same to observe the man next to you. The drummer's chest was covered by a black transparent mesh shirt, his pants were also black with some metallic stones adorning them. Still on his torso was a leather jacket and his neck contained a necklace with tiny drumsticks, his curls were wet so you deduced that he had just got out of the shower.
“Fuck Rojas! You scared the hell out of me!” You say putting your hands automatically to his chest, he can't help but laugh.
Observing his face now more calmly you see him with a softer expression, almost one that you don't usually see every time you are next to him. He notices you paying more attention to his features.
“What?” He asks, his arms crossed in curiosity.
“You look different, I don't know.” Your smile widens, Rojas' presence always did that to you.
“Oh, it must be because we're all clean tonight. You know, to celebrate Billy’s thing.” He says exactly, really glad that they were doing this for their friend.
Your face drops, “Oh no, Cami didn't tell me anything… I brought, you know, nevermind. I'll just keep them in the car.”
Warren walks with you to your car, and even though you tried to hide his presence it still affected you. A few weeks ago you had spent the entire night with him on the porch of your house, after inviting everyone to dinner there, he had been the only one to stay after one in the morning.
And after this interaction there was a tension that could be palpable between you, but as the drummer was always dancing in jokes and humor in any subject you never thought it was something to discuss again. When you get to your car he rests his hand on the hood, watching your every movement, you feel nervous but he loves watching you closely.
“Just out of curiosity, what did you bring?” He speaks with a smirk, you hit him on the shoulder, rolling your eyes while laughing.
“No no no, let's keep the promise for Billy.” You close the door of your car and when you are about to go towards the door once again he grabs your hand, making you turn around.
“Are you sure? There's still time." He jokes, you grab his hand and pull him towards the door “Alright Alright, you make the calls cariño.”
Interviewer: Wait wait, but what happened the night on your balcony?
Y/n L/n: *blushes* First of all I'd like to make it clear that I was really high…
The sky was getting completely dark when you were smoking your fourth cigarette, your friends had stopped there for dinner and they had said goodbye not long ago. You exhale the smoke forward knowing you were alone, feeling the early morning breeze hit your body like a hug. As you feel the wave hit your brain, your muscles relax, and you let yourself lean on the counter while relaxedly observing the lonely street.
Warren had left with the others, but as he walked to his house he stopped at the door, Karen entered next to Graham but he didn't notice. Eddie notices when Rojas thinks twice about entering, so he watches what the drummer is going to do or what's stopping him.
“You good there?” He asks yawning, the dark surroundings making it easier for his body to seek rest.
Warren could see your body on the balcony of your house, the dim light in your room illuminated you from behind and the view he had of your figure puffing cigarette smoke was majestic. There had been a time when the drummer's dark eyes observed your person with a different affection, where just your presence caused sensations that he enjoyed discovering.
He nods to Eddie's question, turning to him. “Are you guys okay without me?”
“You wanna go back to y/n's?” Eddie asks with a smirk, weariness visible in his eyes.
He opened his mouth to respond, but he only had one answer. He nods, and Eddie does the same with pride, turning to enter the house.
You can see the curly head heading back towards your home, and you just turn your head to the side trying to understand what could have happened. You hear four knocks on the door, a pause for two more knocks and finally a light knock, you smile a little.
“It's open Warren!” You scream so he hears, and soon afterwards you hear his steps up the stairs.
You hear the silence again and turn to find the drummer watching you in the doorway, you see his chest only with the classic vest, this time the one with a donkey on the back. You approach him, resting both hands on his shoulders.
Y/n L/n: Very high…
“You're back.” You smile and he does the same, you admire his face and he feels naked under your gaze.
“You asked me to bella.” He answers, Wrapping you in his arms as he looks deep into your eyes. “Come, let's sit down.”
He takes you to the padded bench that was on your balcony, as soon as you do so, he goes towards your room.
“No Warren, please don't leave.” You complain, as you feel the drugs intensifying.
“Calm down, I'm not going anywhere.” He returns from your room with a blanket that was on your bed, wrapping it around his back and then wrapping it around him. “Estoy aquí niña, now tell me, what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“You keep appearing in my dreams Rojas.” You talk slurred, you hear him giggling and you break away to look at him.
“And what do I do, uh?” He teases you, kissing the top of your head.
“Usually we are like this, which is confusing, you know? ” He listens to you calmly, and you feel that the drugs leave your filter behind. “Because I never know if you're serious when it comes to anything. But we are like this, all my doubts and insecurities are gone and I just feel you protecting me from everything.”
“You really think I'm able to do that?” Warren feels his heart speed up, his arms pulling you closer with urgency.
“Yes, I honestly think so.” You mumble against his chest, snuggling closer. “It's just, ugh…”
“And what's wrong with it, hermosa?”
“That they are just dreams.” You speak in a whisper. Letting yourself finally fall asleep.
Y/n L/n: I mean, later he told me all that happened that night, because I remembered just flashes of it.
Warren Rojas: *smiles shyly*
Eddie Roundtree: Hear me out, everyone and their mothers knew that Warren and Y/n had feelings for each other, since day one they just connected. But on New Year's Eve, it was different.
Karen Sirko: Y/n was radiant, she looked at Warren in a way I've only seen... Nevermind *says shyly*
The rest of the band was in the living room while you and Rojas were cooking, or better, he was watching you cook. He watches you leaning on a counter while smiling at your every move, he loved watching you and you knew that and loved it.
“I know you are watching me Rojas.” You say while mixing the salad.
He comes closer, laying his body close to you. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.” He shrugs, and you roll your eyes playfully.
There was something about Warren's presence that you had never noticed before, he seemed to actually be there, by your side and one hundred percent present. You liked that.
“What was the first song you learned to play on the drums?” You ask without precepts, catching him by surprise with your sudden interest.
“I think it was something like...” He opens the cupboard under the sink, taking out two pans and pots, you immediately let out a laugh. He starts drumming a random beat that sounds more like noise. Looking at you as if he felt complete in your joyful reactions. “Thoughts?”
You burst into laughter, he smiles with his eyes shining. “So many.” You say when you finish laughing, wiping the corners of your eyes that had a little water in them.
“I always played, Mi Abuelo had a drum kit and that's where I started to learn. Ever since I was a kid, I would go there and pretend I knew what I was doing. Until I understood how the basics worked, and from then on, well... It became my fixation, it was all I wanted to do twenty-four hours a day.”
You smile genuinely in awe. “You were definitely born for this. Seriously, you’re the best drummer I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh stop, you don't mean that.” Warren Rojas was shy, you were in shock.
You let go of what you were doing, since you had promised that he would be the one to put everything in a container when ready. Wiping your hands on the nearest towel and turning to him with a serious look.
“I do, you're amazing.” Your gaze penetrating his eyes was the reason his legs were shaking.
“Gracias…” He says scratching the back of his head. "Means a lot.”
You see more than sincerity in his eyes, you see dedication, it was a type of intimacy that he had never had with anyone and that's when you felt that he allowed you to read him. Warren feels his heart beating like an animal desperate to free itself from its cage, he thought it was the absence of drugs in his system but it was actually the release of another hormone, he was falling in love.
He fakes a cough to bring back the air of simplicity, failing in one of his goals. “What about you cariño? Since when did you know what you wanted to do?”
You let out a sigh, raising your hand and calling him closer with your index and upper finger, he approaches you. You take your hands to the collar of his jacket, asking permission to remove it, he just agrees and so you do.
You position yourself behind him, removing your apron to tie it around his waist, Rojas closes his eyes feeling your touch in fear that it would end soon, and opens them when he feels you away.
You look at him once again, with curiosity, deciphering what was hovering between you. “I'm an artistic person, as long as I'm connected to art I feel good. When I turned fifteen I was in a play in my hometown, and found momentary but welcoming homes on each stage where I brought a character to life. That was the moment I knew.”
As you say it, you guide him around the kitchen, indicating what he should do. And during all those seconds, all Warren wanted was to put it all down and memorize your every move.
He focuses on the ingredients for the first time, which makes you surprised, but it was the only way he had the courage to say what he wanted. He feels his heart racing once again, is this what being sober is?
“Eres arte, hermosa.” He whispers, and you frown trying to understand. He tries once more. “You are art, you're just… perfect.”
Your mind and body stops for a moment, you widen your eyes. He takes a few steps back, taking off the apron and putting his jacket back on. You immediately rush over to him, cupping his face in your hands.
“Do you mean that?” You ask, afraid of the answer. “Please, tell me you do.” You whisper, like your body was begging for you to get closer to him already.
“I do.” He replies, taking his hands to your waist. “You are art, and I would spend days analyzing every detail of you.”
As your eyes locked, an overwhelming sense of tenderness washed over both of you. The kitchen's aromas faded into the background, and it was as though the entire universe had conspired to bring you to this moment.
Without haste, you pressed your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a meeting of souls that had been separated for far too long, a kiss that held the weight of a lifetime of unspoken love. Warren pulls you closer, feeling every curve of your body as he promises to “analyze every detail of you”.
The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips danced together, a delicate and cherished connection. Each brush of your lips conveyed the depth of your affection, a love that had patiently waited for its time to bloom. You play with the curly strands of his hair, showing urgency at this moment, for him, for both of you.
Time stood still as you shared that kiss, a moment suspended in eternity. It was a kiss that whispered of a profound bond, of two soulmates reunited at last, afraid to let go, lest this precious moment vanish like a dream.
When you finally parted, there was a softness in your gaze, and a huge smile on his face, you caressed his cheeks feeling his unshaven beard almost meeting his mustache, he plays with your shirt as if trying to keep his hands to himself.
“Thank God!” Eddie's voice makes you both jump in fright. “Took you long enough!”
Eddie Roundtree: We were starving!! They wouldn't come back. *Shrugs*
...
Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo
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ananke-xiii · 7 months ago
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"The Born-Again Identity" is one of those SPN ep that I like despite the fact that there are so many things in it that drive me a little bit insane (truth be told, in part it's only my fault cause I can never completely turn up the "suspension of disbelief" volume and I go to a default "but why?" mindset everytime I see something on screen, so okay it's a *just me* problem). However, I do think that S7 was not that bad and it had some quite intriguing and original ideas while the execution was... well, let's say clunky. So, all in all, I think this episode is kinda cool.
the things that drive me a little bit insane:
the imagery of sam desperately running alone in the night along some tracks in a supposedly dangerous part of town. The "derailing" and "going off the tracks" symbolism was a bit on the nose; him buying drugs from the "tweaker" and sleeping with the guy in his car: mmm I feel like that was, like. a lot. to be just thrown away like that.
sam being admitted to the hospital with no mention of said drugs use and the whole scene with the doctor telling dean that they had to put sam in the locked psychiatric floor. I don't know, it also feels like.a lot. and.all of a sudden. they could ease into that way better, it's too ham-fisted as in: we have to find a way to put sam in an horror asylum-like facility in less than 5 minutes for the ep to make sense. so that what feels like to me.
daphne. everything about her drives me insane. I have a whole story where she has to clean up the mess dean has made and hide the body of the demon or something. she'll later start her own private hero's journey to find emmanuel and bring him back to their white picket fence life so perfect and so based on manipulation and stockholm syndrome.
the demons showing up at the grocery store. like what? it was established just a few scenes before when dean told the demon that he was "hands-off" or something and that the demon was actually looking for emmanuel. so why oh why would the other demons look for dean when there's emmanuel.alone.in.the.car. nonsense.
that one demon torturing sam with the electroshock. what was the point? why were demons there anyway? weren't the brothers hands off? maybe i missed something here but to me just felt like "asylum ep= electroshock scene is a must" and meh.
sam leaving the hospital.just.like.that and "swapping place" with cas. i'm sorry, what? i won't even comment on meg being suddenly hired as a nurse cause okay i want to give the writers that, but wtf? oh okay, this guy that has just showed up here (and has definitely possibly murdered 4 or 5 people at the entrance) is maybe not okay, let's not call his wife or someone, let's just lock him up. whaaaaat?
the quite intriguing and original ideas:
the cas/sam parallel: they are both evidently mentally unstable for very different reasons. cas has, in a way, "left the life" and dean, of all people!!!, is not 100% cool with him regaining his memories because what if he leaves???? sam is quite literally very close to leave life in general because the trauma is affecting his body in an irreversible way. they are both "born" again identities at the beginning and at the end of the episode. Very cooooool.
sam and lucifer interactions: the actors really did their job well in this ep cause everytime I watch it I'm exhausted, like I can't bear to hear Lucifer talk and talk and taunt and I definitely feel worn out like sam. I think Jared works very well with Mark Pellegrino, too bad that the whole Lucifer storyline was a mess in later seasons cause the actors had great chemistry.
meg. every scene with meg is just joy for me. and her storyline? left alone looking for "friends"? sure, she totally plans to use cas as her ally but what's new? (jokes aside, there's a whole pattern of women manipulating and using cas, am i the only one seeing it???).
marin. first of all, hello abigail????? (hannibal memories flooding in). second of all, cool MoTW-Not-So-Much-MoTW story. ofc she's a sam's mirror used to basically explain what happened to sam but the ghost who's tormenting her is also her brother and he must die-die-die because he won't let her go. hello??? paralleling sam's hallucinations with sam's issues with dean was super intriguing and too bad that the MoTW was Not-So-Much-MoTW cause marin's story was maybe not even 8 minute long.
bonus: "Peace of Mind" from S14 echoes this ep brillianty, they even cast one of the same actors (the doctor/the mayor) and they used the same surname for sam (sam smith/justin smith). cool cool cool (although unrelated to s7).
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roguelov · 6 months ago
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Hello! It’s kindergarten teacher anon again! Sorry I haven’t been very active, I’ve been busy and the school year is finally over until the fall. I already miss my kids 😭.
If it’s not too much to ask, would I be able to make another request? I absolutely loved the last one, thank you so much for writing and responding to it!
I was thinking the other day as I was reading to the kids- how would Morpheus react to finding out the reader has a set story time with her class every day? I wonder if he would ask to come in to read to the kids, and if he would make up stories to entertain them, or if he’d just pop in or watch through Mathew as the reader reads to the kids. My kids also love to draw as they listen, so I frequently get artwork of me reading and such. Would Morpheus love getting their artwork as much as I do?
Story time is one of my favorite parts of the day (second only to recess), and the kids love to make requests or bring in books to read. I love hearing their laughter at the silly parts of the books or the voices I use, and how they get excited and can’t help but ask me 1,000 questions as I read. I’d love to know if Morpheus would love the same things I do about it.
I’m very sorry to clog up your inbox with my long message, and that it’s about teaching again! I very much love my job and the kiddos I have the privilege to work with every day, and getting to share my love for my job makes me very happy 🥰. Thank you for reading through my request, and have an awesome day! 😁
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Well back my love! And I absolutely adore this 🥰🥰🥰
Dream would adore story time and find it very endearing, he is the prince of stories after all. I feel like Dream would come and bring stories most kids have heard of, maybe a few that have a twist but he likes the classics. He wouldn’t create his own, but he will find the kids’ artwork and interpretations interesting and fascinating. Kids truly have wondrous and wild imaginations and dreams
If he doesn’t have the time to get away he may call Matthew to go to you to simply listen to the stories and books you are reading, but he does like getting away from the Dreaming if he can
If a kid brings a book, Dream would read it and with his soothing voice the next day and whole bunch of kids will bring in stories for him to read. And you may joke that he has his work cut out for him, but like I said he secretly loves it
I would like to propose that he also adds a little endless magic. Maybe he tells the kids to close their eyes and daydream along with the story so he can truly make them see and feel things (daydreams are part of his territory) and all the kids are in awe and love with Dream comes to read. He makes story time way more magical and leaves the kids’ spinning with joy and excitement. He likes seeing the sparkle in their eyes afterwards and he can tell their minds are racing with new dreams
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myreia · 3 months ago
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Sketches of Times Lost
Day 11: Surrogate
thancred searches for release. if only it was so easy.
thancred x hilda, mentions of thancred x wol (pining for her like a fool). set during heavensward patches. written for ffxivwrite2024. rating: explicit tags: explicit sexual content, dissociation during sex, mildly dubious consent, hair pulling, hand jobs, rough body play, piv sex, fantasizing about someone else. 2306 words ao3 link
notes: hw patches are 2 years after arr on aureia's timeline, so thancred is 34 here. aureia looks a lot like hilda. unexpectedly and unintentionally. i have cursed character design choices. weeeee.
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Memory is a fickle thing.
There are good memories and bad memories. Memories that bring joy, that lift one up even from the depths of greatest despair. There are memories that ache, stinging like open wounds, refusing to heal. Memories that haunt, full of regrets that cannot be undone. But memory not just defines a person; it makes them who they are. Who are you, if you cannot remember yourself? Actions past, mistakes made, torments suffered, lessons learned…
The sum of a soul is made of memory.
And yet there are times when he can do without it.
These days he doesn’t know himself. A sad, pathetic shadow of the man he once was. No point on dwelling on all that has come to pass since the Bloody Banquet, but his point still stands—he has changed, and not for the better. Try though he might, any attempt to draw himself out of the dark stupor he is trapped in makes no difference.
The best he can do now is distract himself. Drown out the noise. Numb the pain. Forget the memories.
Which brings him to now, and this small, threadbare room tucked away at the back of the Forgotten Knight, stripped of everything but its essentials. The place he goes to drink and fuck when the Scions of the Seventh Dawn don’t require his skills. More of the first these days, less of the second.
His charms weren’t what they were before.
If he even had any to begin with.
Breath in his ear, lips nuzzled against his throat, and the scent of sweat and ale and gunpowder fills his nostrils. Desire stirs in the pit of his stomach as Hilda embraces him from behind, her breasts pressing firmly against his back. Her arm snakes around his waist, holding him firmly in place as she tugs at the laces of his trousers. He stills, a groan lingering on his tongue, and her palm brushes the growing bulge. She’s stronger than she looks at first glance, broad muscles rippling beneath the stiff sleeves of her leather coat. The harsh physique that comes from a childhood spent scrapping for food on the streets. It never quite leaves you, even when adulthood fills you out and access to regular meals are no longer a concern.
He should know. He is this way, too.
A Brume brat and a street urchin from Limsa. Perhaps they have more in common than they thought.
She drags a bruising kiss across his jaw, her other hand threaded in his hair. A tug on his ponytail, sharp but controlled, testing the boundary. “This all right?” she asks, her voice low and wanting.
He closes his eyes, wishing she would get on with it. No sense in a drawn-out seduction when they’re both here for the same thing. “Aye,” he grunts. “When I said do what you will with me tonight, I meant it.”
Husky laughter murmurs across her lips. “Not bad for a grizzled old rogue.”
“I’m not old.” Difficult to remind himself of some days. Thirty-four is not old, and yet some days he feels the weight of those years in duplicate. Perhaps the Lifestream stole his youth along with his aether, the way it stole Y’shtola’s eyesight.
“Older than me.”
Gods above, he’d rather not think about how much.
“But I know you ain’t, I’m just pesterin’ you.” Hilda’s lips brush his ear, her teeth scraping his lobe as she pulls his laces loose. He exhales a ragged breath, stiff, frozen by her touch, a deep aching pulsing inside him as she slips a hand beneath his waistband and caresses his hardened length. “But if you didn’t protest it so much—”
It’s no protest, it’s a… Gods. He doesn’t know. This is the sort of thing Aureia once teased him for, but somehow when it happens with Hilda the joke loses all its appeal.
“—it wouldn’t nearly be so much fun to say.”
“I—”
She pulls his cock free. Cool air passes over his exposed skin, at odds with the rough heat from the friction of her fingers. One stroke, two—his head fuzzes, the fog of arousal flooding his senses. He groans, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks and down his neck.
He could come right now if he let himself, and it would do him no favours in terms of avoiding the accusations of grizzled age.
So, he closes his eyes and leans back into her, allow her to touch him how she pleases. Her lips across his jaw, her fingers in his hair, her hand on his cock. She works swiftly, coaxing numb desire from him with every stroke, her fingers some paradox of coarse and delicate as she grips him around the tip and squeezes. Pleasure spreads from his core, sensationless and distant, like the faraway buzz he sometimes gets after the fourth or fifth drink while chasing oblivion with yet another one.
He grits his teeth and clamps his mouth shut, strangling the moan in his throat. It’s too soon to be done with this. Hilda would leave and he would only end up seeking it out again, with his own hands if he must. Perhaps that would be better for them both. Save her the shame of being with someone like him. It’s not serious—neither of them ever claimed it to be—and it was admittedly fun when it started. He can’t say it is any longer. She’s young. She can certainly do better than him.
And on his own, he is free to imagine. They both know there is someone he would rather be fucking than her.
Hilda exhales a sharp breath and her hand stills. “Not workin’ for you, eh?” she asks bluntly.
He closes his eyes, his stomach in knots. “It’s good. Wonderful. Nice—”
“Thancred, if you don’t want to, you better tell me.”
He twists, spinning around, and seizes her by the shoulders. She gasps, ruby eyes wide with surprise, but does not protest as he presses a rough kiss to her mouth. “I’m not here for you to play with me,” he growls, gripping her ass. “I’m here for you to fuck me.”
A wicked smile spreads from ear to ear. “Then get on the bed,” she says, pressing a hand to his chest. “Now.”
She shoves him.
He backs away, the old floorboards creaking beneath his steps, and his knees hit the mattress. She’s on him a moment later, sailing into his arms, her mouth hot and urgent against his. He wraps his arms around her as she kisses him, the fog seizing him once again as her tongue slips into his mouth. She pushes him down on the bed and straddles him, thighs pressed tight against his. Her hips roll once and he arches his back, a moan ripping free from his throat.  
“There we are,” she says, eyes dancing eagerly. Panting, she brushes her long, dark hair out of the way and strips off her jacket, tossing it on the floor. Her shirt follows next. He stares dumbly, entranced, the fog clouding his mind as she doubles over and undoes her own trousers, her arms pushing her breasts together. “This doin’ it for you now, then, eh?”
A flash of black hair, the ends tinged red. Ruby eyes, curious and fierce. The hint of a small smile, the one she saved for him—he hasn’t seen it since Ul’dah. He may never again.
It isn’t Hilda’s fault that she and Aureia look so much alike. What hellish coincidence did Halone have to design to ensure that the two most infamous half-Elezen women in Ishgard would not only resemble each other so closely, but become best of friends?
He swallows. “Aye,” he says, the syllable slurred as he forces it past his tongue. “Aye, it is.”
She peels her trousers down and grinds against him, the slick heat between her legs achingly hot. She bucks her hips again in that quick, succinct way that gets him panting, and flips her long hair over her shoulder. “What else does it for you, hm?” she asks, stretching her hands above her head and arching her back to give him a good view.
His gut twists and he bites his tongue. There is someone he would much rather have on top of him. It feels wrong—dirty, callous, shameful—how easily it is to imagine what she would look like. A fantasy he can barely admit to himself.
Stop it. Get that out of your head.  
“That…” He sighs and closes his eyes. “Aye.”
She stills. “You ain’t even lookin’.”
He opens his eyes. “I did. I am.”
Her hands flops to her sides and she cocks her head, making a face. “What do you want, then? This ain’t exactly the best time for a list of suggestions, but if you want ‘em, I have ‘em. Otherwise, I’m startin’ to feel that you would rather not—”
“I do.”
“You keep sayin’ that, but Thancred, I can tell you’re not all the way here.”
His jaw clenches. He lies back, staring at the sloped roof, the exposed beams. The unlit hearth, blackened and oily and cold as ice. The mattress sags beneath their weight, the bedframe creaking, the bedspread thin and scratchy. How many times have they found themselves in this room, him and her? How many times has he wished it was someone else?
“I’m here,” he says at last. “I… my apologies. There have been many distractions of late. Many concerns.”
“Yeah, I’m sure about that, Scion business and all. I get the same shit from Aureia.” She pauses, her ruby gaze lingering on him. “I don’t want your apologies. Too formal for my liking. Do you want to fuck or not?”
He hesitates. For a brief moment, the ghost of no, I don’t lingers on his tongue. But he can’t say it. His body is aching, he is craving the haze of bliss, the few passing seconds where time stretches out and for once he does not have to godsdamn think. So he does want this (does he?) after all.
Even if it’s not with her.
He pushes himself up on his elbows and kisses her, quick and rough. “Aye,” he murmurs. “What must I do to convince you of it?”
She smirks and trails her fingers across his cheek. “Nothin’,” she says. “I rather like the look of you flat on your back.”
He grins. Hollow, empty, but present.
She presses her mouth to his—breath hot in his mouth, teeth scraping his lower lip—and pushes him down. He falls, willingly, easily, eager to drift. When the unspoken presence of someone neither of them wish to mention isn’t bearing down on them, sex with Hilda is easy. Uncomplicated. She enjoys being in control.
He enjoys allowing someone else to make the decisions.
The fog tugs at his mind, lulling him to numbness even as Hilda takes his cock in hand and slips it inside her. The slick heat sends a pleasant shudder down his spine and he grips the bedspread, twisting it between her fingers as she slowly rides him. He does his best to watch her, keep eye contact, groan and moan at the right time. Her hips roll and his own respond in kind, thrusting up into her with a steady, simple rhythm.
He trusts his body to do what it must, chase the high it yearns for. Maybe then his mind can catch a fucking break.
Hilda lolls her head, her long, dark hair sweeping over her like a curtain. Her gaze darts across the room to the window, observing the shift in light. She slips a hand between her legs and strokes her clit, her lips pressed together as if she were listening to a boring sermon. She shudders when she reaches her climax, the clench sending a desperate spike of arousal coursing through him. He gasps, back arched, and lets go of his release at last.
The sweet nothingness of numb pleasure seizes his mind and for a moment, he coasts on emptiness. Nothing to think. Nothing to feel.
Simply nothing.
Boots scrape against the floorboards. A heavy thud knocks against the bedframe. When his mind finally clears, he finds himself still lying flat on his back, his lower half exposed, his cock flushed and limp and numb. Hilda stands at the foot of the bed, dressed and pulling on her jacket. She casts an eye in his direction and finishes doing up her buttons.
“Sun’s goin’ down.” Her voice is short, clipped, matter of fact. She pulls her hair into its customary high tail. “Best be goin’ now. Said I’d meet Stephanivien. Best avoid him sendin’ out a search party, that would be a whole load of embarrassing neither of us need.”
“Hilda.”
She pauses, a hand on the bedframe. “Don’t need say anythin’,” she says. “I know how these things go. But I think… You need help. Whatever it is you’re going through, I don’t… I can’t be the one responsible for it.”
The words sting. “I don’t need anything,” he grunts, pushing himself up. “Let alone help. I don’t know what you think this is, but sometimes it’s no more complicated than two people having fun.”
She snorts and hoists her rifle, strapping it across her back. “That’s just it, ain’t it? I was havin’ fun. Don’t know about you.”
“I—”
“Remember what I said when we started all this?”
Don’t mistake me for her. Because I’m not.
“I think you need to think about that a little more. Goodbye, Thancred.”
Footsteps on creaking floorboards. A door slammed closed.
He lies on the stiff old bed and stares at the stiff old beams and at last his mind goes blank.
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