#dangerous dreams series ao3
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Clan of Three <3
Inspired by @shirozora-draws series Dangerous Dreams (The Storm, The Suns, The Stars) on ao3
#clan of three#dinluke art#din djarin#grogu djarin#(not doing the din Grogu thing that is so wrong in my brain)#luke skywalker#lukie pookie!#LUKE!#mr. chanel boots#din <3#see them your honour? they could do nothing wrong ever#battle dads#<thank you pencilscratchins for that name its v. cute (its not mine im just using it go look at rheir art)#wars in the stars#the mandalorian#star wars#dangerous dreams series ao3
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
jeon jungkook fic rec list (â
š)
hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them đ„șđ€ also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time âšđ€
a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
⏠ DI Jeon didnât need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories. Â
block party by @minlucent f s a
⏠moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
⏠you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldnât. Will jungkook show you what youâve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?Â
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
⏠Jungkook was lost. He didnât know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasnât expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
⏠Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows youâre his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
⏠You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends⊠and youâre absolutely in love with him; heâs in love tooâjust not with you.Â
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
⏠your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
⏠One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
⏠boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
⏠Itâs been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
⏠Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But heâs also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about himâŠmaybe even love him. But something tells you that you arenât quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger youâve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didnât know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
⏠Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
⏠after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
⏠The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
⏠he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
⏠you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
⏠whatâs there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesnât love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
⏠jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesnât want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
⏠The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
⏠Money canât buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks heâs happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesnât know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
âŹdomestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
⏠purchasing a Hot Bot wasnât exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
⏠You didnât believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friendâs husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
⏠After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe itâs about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
⏠Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, itâs happening again, someoneâs threatening you. Only, this time, itâs not just you thatâs in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and canât help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PIâs around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
⏠In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
⏠Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isnât all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, donât cause trouble and donât give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
⏠When your momâs fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world youâre suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation⊠ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
⏠due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriendâs band. you thought youâve both made peace with it, but suddenly heâs very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
⏠It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasnât who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions youâd been trying to bury.Â
ORÂ Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didnât hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
⏠You havenât seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the worldâs population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. Youâre still surprised Seoul survived â if you can call what it has become âsurvivingâ
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
⏠jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason heâs unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer shouldâve been easy, if it werenât for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
⏠jungkookâs drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but itâs to the very girl he abandoned that nightâand things get a lot more complicated when youâre the best hookup heâs ever had.
Jâaime by @baepop f s a
⏠Youâre the newest hire at a local cafĂ© and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
⏠Youâre the girl of Jungkookâs dreams, literally. The only problem: youâre taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
⏠You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your companyâs first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things donât go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stallsâŠand find it in the arms of no one else but BTSâ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
⏠fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
⏠just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
⏠As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-beâs eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
⏠Youâve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything âfrom his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
⏠jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
one shot
blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
⏠when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls youâve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lightsâeven if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
⏠Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each otherâs lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
⏠What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when youâre always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
⏠War is Hell, but itâs what you had to do to take your brotherâs place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven youâd call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
âŹyou pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
âŹÂ The 2 AM texts have started again. Itâs a bittersweet familiarity that you canât run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and youâll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkookâs presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
âŹJeonâs the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesnât go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
âŹItâs no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. Thereâs nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.Â
burning bright by @snackhobi s
âŹthere are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, heâd turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
âŹJungkook is everything youâre not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most donât, and to that end, you suppose youâre fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
⏠after moving away from your hometown five years ago, youâve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he canât be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.Â
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
⏠Youâve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brotherâs mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancĂ©.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
⏠After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
⏠A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, thatâs nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
⏠Jungkook is the nude model for your art schoolâs life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
âŹthere is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nationâs most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one anotherâs minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.Â
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
⏠a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
âŹÂ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.Â
white lies by @noteguk f s a
⏠in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he canât tell white lies when it comes to you.Â
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
⏠You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
 ⏠If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
⏠jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while heâs at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind â to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
âŹafter departing from your dom, youâre assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
âŹlooking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#moon's recs#jungkook#jungkook:oneshot#jungkook:series#jungkook:smut#jungkook:angst#jungkook:fluff#favourites!jjk#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic recs#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook series#moonchild1#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Do I Wanna Know - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #05
Summary: Taking advantage of the fact that the Avengers are going through a divorce, you decide to visit your (not-so-secret) girlfriend in the compound. While they fight, you entertain Wanda and present her with a third option besides staying in the tower or fighting Steve Rogers: to run away with you.
Warnings: (+18), shapeshifting reader, some talking of gender identity, implied gender neutral but use of female pronouns, established and secret (ish) relationship, canon-divergence, bottom!Wanda, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, intimate teasing, praising, general fluff. | Words: 4.131k
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
It got more dangerous every time it happened. But getting caught, and all the consequences that would come with it, were distant ideas, possibilities that didn't cross Wanda's mind, especially when she was at your place.
She didn't think about the team, the country, what anyone else might think and judge about the relationship - if she could call it that - between the two of you.
All Wanda could focus on when she was around you was undeniably you.
It became a secret routine, a hidden part of her life that she looked forward to almost all the time. Between tiring and dangerous missions, a new excitement among the gray corners of the private life of what many would call the most powerful Avenger.
Nobody knew about you, not the way she did anyway. What the others saw was the smuggler with no loyalty - the thief who stole and would steal from anyone in her path, for the best price. And could also take anything she was paid to take. From a diamond necklace to an infinity stone, from the most exclusive party of the world's elite to the secret country in the middle of the African continent.Â
Sometimes, Wanda would trace Wakanda's scar on your skin while you slept, and wonder if the person you were at that moment was the same person that King T'Challa wanted behind bars for a few pieces of metal.
The moral part didn't bother her much - if she was honest, Wanda understood impressions and what really mattered very well. Coming from a country exploited by the United States, which praised a man in blue who was very reminiscent of the captains who marched to the corners of the world to massacre cities, to one who wore iron armor and produced the same bombs that took the lives not only of her parents, but of the vast majority of the children she grew up with, Wanda understood hypocrisy like no one else. Despite everything that had happened to her, she shared a roof with the man indirectly responsible for her parents' deaths. No one could judge her so easily, but Wanda was sure that if your relationship went public, it would happen in the blink of an eye.
So when she was fleeing, for hours between one mission and another, one meeting and another, she tried to enjoy you as much as possible.
And sometimes, when you were apart for too long, and she worried that she was beginning to forget the features of your face, Wanda could prepare a surprise.
She could lie, taking advantage of her magic or not, to prolong everything from your time together to the sensations you shared in bed. She could haunt you - and you would use that term because, without her around, the feeling of lack was very similar to that of loss. - Wanda would invade your dreams, like a sigh in the night never to leave your mind.
But more often than not, she would simply mark you with hickeys and scratches on everything hidden beneath your uniform, and you might leave a path of purple through the valley of her breasts that would be the only proof of the hours she had spent enjoying your company.
The Avengers were on a thin line now - Accords, fights, and old friends, and neither you nor Wanda knew it, but soon, the world would see you two the same way.Â
Criminals on the run.
But the future hasn't arrived yet - And Wanda, unbeknownst to you, was locked away in a tower like an ancient princess, and you, against the advice of your own safety, went to visit a damsel who wasn't so much defenseless but would definitely be distress to see you there.
"You can't be here." The warning came against your lips, pressed into hers half a second after your arrival into the room - you could only kiss back, smiling at the tug on your leather jacket that fell to the floor behind your feet.Â
"I missed you too princess." That's what you said back, your hand wrapped around her waist as your tongue slid into hers.Â
Wanda sighed, her body yearning for your touch and presence just as much as her heart for the last few weeks without seeing you. Despite pushing you around the room, until you were sitting on the bed, Wanda interrupted the motions, her frown of concern and her out-of-rhythm breathing escaping through her swollen, ajar lips.
"I'm serious." She begins a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "They can't see you here-"
"The Avengers aren't home, I was told." You justify quickly, your gaze wandering to look her up and down. Wanda always looked so beautiful, it was almost unfair. "United Nations meeting, everyone's talking about it."
One of your hands plays with the folds of her skirt, pulling it up, but Wanda pushes them away.
"Most of them, yes, but I'm not alone." She murmurs, looking around and undeniably using magic to check the floor. "Vision is keeping me company."
"Which one is Vision anyway?" You retort casually, not caring about the last gesture, moving your hands under her clothes and biting back a smile at the way her thigh muscles quiver with your touch.Â
Wanda rests her other hand on your shoulder, her gaze serious. "The one with the damn magical stone you once stole from Hydra." She retorts, sighing softly as she feels your fingers playing with the laces of her panties. "Please, detka. Vision... would kill you if he found you here."
You click your tongue. âI could disguise myselfâŠâ But Wanda shakes her head.
âThe stone can see beyond.â She retorts with a certainty that makes you assume this information came directly from her team's study of the Stone. But instead of answering right away, you pull her by the thighs onto your lap, smiling mischievously at the surprised yelp that you muffle on your lips. Wanda tries to listen to reason, but it's too faint compared to the pounding of her own heart.Â
"Don't make a sound and he'll never know." You whisper your last request before kissing her intently, your bold hands teasing inside her blouse. It doesn't take long for Wanda to be restless in your lap, panting against your tongue exploring her mouth so hungrily, sweating with the precise stimulation of her nipples as your hands pull down her dark bra. But despite a mind almost completely clouded with arousal, she bites at your lower lip and breaks the kiss.
"I missed you." Wanda likes you to know these things because sometimes, you have less than an hour together and it feels like one of those times. She hasn't seen you for weeks, and God knows when she'll get another chance now that the team seems on the verge of collapse.Â
You give her a teasing smile, your hands wrapped around her. "You're so sweet, Wanda. My beautiful, darling, princess." Your compliments were accompanied by chaste kisses against her jaw, and it always works to leave her a mess, melting into you and at your beck and call.Â
In the safety of your embrace, Wanda risked being vulnerable:
"Did you miss me too?"
You're not so good at these things - It comes from your past, so different from her happy childhood although later overshadowed by the height of a civil war as a teenager, but definitely different from growing up in Tony Stark's mansions and summer houses, or surrounded by family lunches like Bruce Banner or Thor. If anything, your childhood was closer to that of a Black Widow, with training and punishments whenever the expectations were not achieved.Â
Still, Wanda warmed her way into your heart, and you tried to give back as best you could.
"I don't really think about you when I'm away." Her expression drops immediately, but before she can conclude anything, you move one of your hands to grab hers, and bring it back inside your blouse. Your intense gaze is the only thing stopping her from pulling away. And when Wanda can feel a new scar near your abdomen, she swallows dryly. "Or rather, I just have to force myself not to do anymore. What you're feeling happened in Berlin. An MK2 hidden in the belt of an arms dealer who asked me... how much I was enjoying America." You narrate, and Wanda frowns, being able to visualize the memory fresh in your mind. You swallowed and looked down at your lap. "I don't know how much he knew, but he said your name, and I just... flinched. I was blinded by rage and he took advantage of it. So, no, Wanda. I can't afford to let you cross my mind when I'm away, because you become a weakness. And I wasn't trained to have weaknesses."
Despite the way her body warms to the confession, Wanda gives you a playful look.
"Should I apologize, you know, for making a romantic out of the grumpy assassin?" she teases, and you chuckle, spinning her around in a tug to drop her on her back on the bed, you on top.Â
With your body pressed into hers, one hand on her waist and the other adjusting her hair away from her eyes, you nuzzle your noses together. "Don't ever apologize for making me feel this way." You whisper, and Wanda closes her eyes in anticipation, her cheeks burning. "You have me in a way that no one ever could, Wanda Maximoff."
The next kiss is intense and charged with meaning. It makes Wanda shudder and gasp into your mouth. You smile, secretly proud of the effect you have on her, while your hands move down to pull her thighs up and make her wrap herself around you, ankles locked behind your knees.
The position elicits a deep moan from the girl beneath you, and when you adjust yourself to press your pelvis against her, Wanda chokes in surprise, opening her eyes.
"Is that...?"
Without losing your relaxed posture, you offer her a little smile full of the worst intentions. "I thought I'd play differently today." You reply, grinding gently against her and making Wanda bite her lips. The movement leaves you equally affected, but you let her know: "I can always change back..."
Wanda tightens the grip of her legs around you, shaking her head. Her cheeks turn pink. "N-no! I like... I like you either way." She manages to whisper, and you smile warmly, kissing her softly.Â
One of your hands comes down to invade her blouse, starting an intense making-out session between you, enough to mess up your hair and the bed sheets and leave you hard against her thigh.
When Wanda stops to breathe again, there's a wet spot on the thigh she's spent the last few minutes grinding against - and you take the opportunity to plant kisses on her collarbone. Your hands go down to unbutton your pants.
Between kisses, you warn her: "I have to be careful... I think it works like a real one. Speaking of biological functions, you know. "
She uses magic to force your pants down to your ankles, aroused enough that the delay was driving her to the brink of insanity. Still, she manages to gasp between kisses: "You think?"
You hum, distracted by the sensation of your cock rubbing against her covered intimacy - body shuddering with arousal. "Y-yes... I've never... used it for sex before... Just for the job, you know? While in disguise."
The information made Wanda need to ignore the liquid arousal and press trembling hands onto your shoulders, gently pushing you away and attracting your attention.
After a sigh, she asked: "Are you comfortable, darling? With this of course... I don't know the exact feel of your powers, but I don't want you to think you need to change a single thing about yourself for me. Who you are is incredible and enough."
You break into a loving sigh and attack her face with kisses that make Wanda giggle shyly. "You're too sweet on me, Maximoff." You tease, and wrap your arms around her on the bed, hugging her tightly. Wanda bites her lips, still well aware of your lust brushing her, but trying to ignore the sensation in case you change your mind. After all, just your presence after so many weeks away was what she really wanted. Sex was just a bonus.Â
Somehow, she ends up on top again, your foreheads touching.Â
"It's different because of my powers, everything they do for me, changing my body as needed, you know? But still, I feel that even without these abilities, these details wouldn't make any difference to me." You confess with a sigh, one of your hands stroking behind her back. "Whether my body resembles of a boy or a girl, I say. In my head, I'm always in the middle, or outside of it. I can't explain it very well, and Iâm still trying to understand it better but⊠I know for a certain that I want to make you feel good. In any of the ways Iâm able to."
Wanda absorbs your words for a moment, her heart pounding and her chest warm with tenderness. She doesn't know exactly when she fell for you - whether it was from the first second your eyes met, or whether it was over time, between flirtations and arguments, until finally, she had the courage to act on those feelings and was lucky that you held on to them as much as she did.
Instead of answering with words, she kisses your skin. Your cheeks, your jaw, and your lips, while her hands touch wherever they can. It takes you by surprise, the familiar sensation of her magic on your clothes until you're both skin to skin on the mattress. Wanda sighs deeply, still with her eyes closed, as she adjusts herself on your lap, but looks up at you again before shifting to fit into you.
"Are you ready, love?" You whisper against her lips, one hand on her waist, the other lining up at her warm entrance. Wanda welcomes you with breathtaking heat - you slide in easily, yet she gasps until she gets used to the sensation of being filled, her hands firmly on your shoulders. You sigh too, trying not to get lost in the sensation as you ask: "Can I move?"
"Y-yes, please." She practically meows impatiently, her forehead falling against your shoulder as your hips move upwards, gently thrusting inside her. But Wanda clenches inside, hot and eager, and you grunt, trying to hold in your own pleasure. She grinds down against your hips, the sound of her wet arousal echoing between you. Your hands tighten on her hips, and you gradually increase the speed, making Wanda gasp between moans against your ear. "Dorogoy... that feels so good..."
You manage to gasp back, nodding softly in agreement: "You have no idea how amazing you feel, baby... so fucking wonderful... God..." It takes you by surprise, the first reach of your climax. You try to hold back, but Wanda bites your skin hard as she feels the warm shot on her walls, and your grunt turns into a heavy moan as you spill inside her. Wanda wraps her arms around your shoulders, grinding gently as you throb out the last drops, which soon run down her thighs. A moment later, your voice hoarse, you whisper: "I'm sorry, babe. I didnât... know it would be so hard to hold it..."
She giggles shyly, kissing your skin before looking at you again. A mischievous gaze. "Do you need a break, or perhaps that was the highlight of the night...?" She teases, but you snort in fake indignation, fixing your grip on her waist to flip her onto the bed. The gasp of surprise turns into a muffled whimper as you thrust inside her powerfully, hard again as if you hadn't just come. Her hands move to your waist, and her nails dig into your hips with each thrust.
"You were saying?" You challenge softly, panting against her lips. Wanda chuckles under her breath, one of her legs tucking behind yours, increasing your reach deep inside her. With each thrust in, she shuddered and gasped on the bed, closer and closer to the edge. You lowered yourself completely, pinning her to the mattress and burying yourself inside her as you felt her become impossibly tight. Wanda came in a high-pitched whimper, her nails digging into your lower back just enough to make a mark. You kissed her jaw, rocking gently as she still rode the waves of her own climax.
When you suddenly pulled out, cumming against her soaked and abused pussy, she mewed in protest, her leg trying to pull down and back inside of her. You chuckled hoarsely.
"Baby, I shouldn't have come inside the first time." You whispered, kissing her cheek. "I have to be careful, it's not replication, I transform truly. Let's get you a pill after this, all right? And we'll need some condoms for next-."
"Problems for later." Wanda cuts in good-naturedly, pulling your face back to hers and kissing you intently, effectively silencing any rational thought in your head.
It's honestly the best you've felt in a long time - as it usually is when you're around Wanda Maximoff.
It shouldn't surprise you that much when a few hours of rolling around in bed together, the moment is interrupted by knocks on the door.
Wanda, naked and panting, is sitting on your hips, and you're inside her still, ready to come again when she practically jumps away, and you have to muffle the grumble of frustration against her pillow.
"Y-yeah?" she manages to ask the visitor, sitting on shaky knees on the bed, one hand pulling the covers over her body.Â
It takes a moment, but the male voice answers: "Sorry to disturb you, Wanda, but I made dinner. Won't you join me?"
She pushes the fingers you threaten to drag between her legs away, a smile playing on her lips.
"I'm not hungry, Vision, thank you."
There's another pause, in which Wanda throws you warning glances to stop trying to touch her before the robot speaks again, more seriously than before.
"Wanda, can we talk? Please."
She frowns, and exchanges a look with you, who sigh, rolling your eyes and looking away, your chest burning with a strange sensation. Using magic to bring one of the robes to her after muttering "One second", Wanda stumbles to the bedroom door, which she leaves with only a small gap to the corridor.
"Vis, it's not a good time-
"She shouldn't be here, Wanda." Vis cuts in, and you tense up on the bed. But he makes no mention of entering the room, and Wanda comes out wrapped in her robe, covering the ajar door with her body as a dry laugh escapes her.
"That's none of your business."
The man shakes his head in disbelief, and his tone of voice, although restrained, can be heard by you inside the room.
"Wanda, please be rational." He insists seriously. "At such a delicate moment for the Avengers, to bring... a criminal into the tower..."
"Vision, go away."
He sighs, hesitantly. "I should report this." He mutters, and although you can't see Wanda's face, you can see the way her shoulders tense and you can imagine the hardness of her expression.
"Do as you wish, but know, I will never speak to you again if anything happens to her."
Vision shakes his head. "And where do you think their choices will lead? If it's not the Avengers, it'll be the police who capture her. Interpol, or whichever organization finds her first. What they're doing, Wanda, has no future and you know it." He says, sighing in disapproval. "Send her away now, or I'll warn the others." Vision announces at last.
"Maybe I'll just go with her." Wanda retorts, but Vision chuckles dryly.
"You have no idea what's happening outside those walls, Wanda." He retorts seriously. "The fine line we're on. Mr. Stark is trying to keep everyone out of danger, and after everything we caused in Lagos, wandering around without signing the Accords is out of the question."
Wanda chokes in surprise. "What... Am I not allowed to leave the tower?"
Vision clears his throat, nodding. "It's for the safety of the civilians." He retorts coldly. "Although I believe your intentions are good now, your record as a Hydra terrorist and recent events are not in your favor. It's best, for everyone, that you stay here until things settle down and all the signatures are counted."
Wanda is speechless at the absurdity, but in the meantime, you're already dressed and she jumps softly when your hand opens the rest of the door. Vision's eyes go wide, but you just give him a forced smile.
"Hey, microwave, long time no see." You greet sarcastically, and the man adjusts himself.
"Unfortunately not long enough." He retorts coldly.Â
"Jeez, someone's rusty." You grumble, but he looks at you seriously.
"Don't abuse my patience, Miss. You have fifteen minutes to leave this tower, or I'll call National Security with your location."
You rest your arm on Wanda's shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "Wow, am I that important?"
Vision takes a hard step forward, but Wanda's magic pushes him back with a jolt. You laugh at his indignant expression.
"That's enough, Vision. She's leaving soon, and you're leaving now." Wanda warns, at last, her irises bright red. The synthesizer begrudgingly gives you one last threatening look and leaves the corridor.Â
You wrap your arms around Wanda again to kiss her hard as you close the door with your foot, but she doesn't match the intensity, and soon, her hands are on your shoulders, gently pushing you away and stopping the kiss.Â
At your confused expression, she swallows dryly. "You should go." She whispers, fear in her eyes. "I know he meant it. And I don't want to ruin this night with you getting shot by some federal agent."
You hesitate, but end up nodding, kissing her on the cheek before walking away to get your shoes.
But as you put them on, and Wanda hugs her own body, you take a chance:
"You know you don't have to stay here, right?" You begin a little upset. "You could do like that archer guy and ask for a retirement. Or have your friends forgotten that you've already saved the world once and therefore, you donât owe any of them shit?"
Despite the childish stubbornness in your tone, Wanda smiles sadly before retorting. "I don't think they've forgotten, but things are more complicated than before. And I'm not like Clint Barton, darling." She retorts, swallowing dryly. "I don't have a family to go back to."
You frown, absorbing the words in silence as you finish tying your sneakers. And then, as if it wasn't the sweetest thoughtful thing you've ever said to her, you declare:
"I could be family, Wanda."
She looks away for a moment because she doesn't want to cry in front of you. She has the impression that you won't leave - and she needs you to go so that you can be safe - if you notice the tears.Â
Sniffling softly, and wiping her face before you notice, Wanda asks. "Do you really mean that?"
You stand up, moving closer to her to hold her cheeks. "Every word." You assure her with a smile. "We could travel the world, and have lunch and dinner in different places every day. We would buy all the most expensive and tacky things just because we can..."
Wanda giggles shyly at the fantasy, allowing herself to believe it for just half a second. She holds your hands cupped around her face afterward and sighs.
"It's a beautiful dream, darling."
You swallow dryly, staring at her. "Just a dream, isn't it?" You sigh sadly, and she nods just as upset.
Her tone is very low, like a secret. "They'll find you eventually. And I... God knows how much my power will grow. I can't trust myself outside of here, without the help of training. Stark's containment plans. And I know it's horrible, but I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever again. And if I went with you, with this life you lead, eventually, I would."
You swallow dry, sighing in understanding. This time, it's you who sniffles.
âIâm always one call away, Wanda Maximoff. Whenever you need me, just pick up the phone.â Wanda feels her chest warm at your words, but all she does is smile tenderly against the kiss you place on her lips.Â
Unknown to both of you, it wonât take long for her to call. With really unexpected big news.
Two of them precisely.
-&-
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Like Dad (3 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff
Word Count: 804
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
Soap stumbles through an explanation when faced with a barrage of questions.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist
Johnny is a firecracker. The spark from struck flint.
He dives in headfirst, charges forward, his actions led by his head and his heart. Johnny might be high-strung at times. Rambunctious and eager. Sometimes heâs stubborn when it comes to people and things he cares about.
All of that is true. And all of it is also reflected in his six-year-old daughter.
The two of them stand in the middle of the kitchen. Johnny has his hands on his hips. His daughter mimics his movements, forcing all her attitude into it, even adding a single arched eyebrow. Johnny would laugh but heâs trying to be serious.
She looks so much like her mother itâs startling.
Heâs trying to keep his demeanor calm under the barrage of questions about his job. His daughter is a curious creature. She wants to know everything, oftentimes asking so many questions at once they start to run together.
Usually, Johnny is indulgent. He loves nourishing that curiosity. But right now, that curiosity is treading on dangerous territory. Of everything Johnny is protective of, itâs his daughter. But more than that, itâs to protect her from the realities of his career.
It isnât pretty. It isnât clean.
And sheâs asking endless questions. So many that theyâre melting together, pushing him toward every bad mission and terrible death.
âThatâs not one of the questions,â he replies cooly, nodding toward the piece of paper resting on the kitchen table.
Itâs a questionnaire. One the school sends that has her basic interests along with information about family. Sheâll use it for projects and to make connections with classmates. Itâs a standard thing, something sent out early in the schoolyear as a form of introduction.
His daughter stands mute. Unmoving. Sheâs trying to be tough, and while it makes his heart warm with pride, itâs also incredibly frustrating.
âIâll answer the questions on your paper. Nothing more.â Johnny is setting a boundary because itâs all he can do. He wonât lie to her, but heâs not going to swim through rough waters.
Her bottom lip pops out in a pout and Johnny sighs, crossing his arms. âWhy do you want to know so bad?ïżœïżœ
She takes a deep breath, shoulders softening. âBecause I want to be like you when I grow up.â
Because I want to be like you when I grow up.
The automatic response is âno.â That isnât what she wants or will ever want. All she knows are the friendly faces, of how Simonâs mask is way too big for her head, or Priceâs hugs which she loves more than anything.
Those are not the realities. Those are soft things. Pieces that keep her satiated.
âWhy do you want to be like me?â he asks slowly, chest slightly tight with dread.
âWhy not?â she shrugs, as if that is a perfectly logical stance.
Where is his wife when he needs you? You would help. You would distract and move her on to something else so that Johnny doesnât have to flounder under all these questions. She came like a fury of rapidly popping fireworks, peppering him until she finally ended her chatter with wide eyes and heaving chest.
Why not?
Because there are dark tendrils that cling to him that wonât let go. She doesnât need those. She shouldnât have to carry those burdens with her everywhere.
There is no reason to crush her dreams. There is no reason to smack this idealism down. Not yet. When sheâs older, Johnny can be clearer, he can be more upfront about the toll this line of work has taken on him.
Sighing, he walks up to the kitchen table, picking up her sparkly purple pencil. It is rough against his fingertips as he bends at the waist to peer at the questionnaire. She stands next to him, watching intently, leaning on an elbow, peering over his arm as he starts to fill out information on the page.
Johnny takes his time. He is truthful in his answers. He is part of The Special Air Service. He runs covert missions. He vaguely lists out what a day might look like for him when heâs not deployed. His daughter watches on, saying nothing.
 But there is no snarky comment or attitude that he usually expects from her.
âThank you, Daddy,â is all she says, neatly folding the paper in half to stuff into her schoolbag. Johnny offers her the glittery purple pencil and she takes that too.
He bends at the knees, getting on her level. âWant to help me start dinner?â
âYes!â she beams.
âGrab a chair,â he says, nodding toward the dining table.
She drags it across the floor, pushing it up against the bottom cabinets. She turns, smile wide, hands clasped eagerly in front of her.
This is the distraction he needs.
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair
#john soap mactavish imagine#john soap mactavish fanfic#john soap mactavish fanfiction#soap mactavish fanfic#john soap mactavish fic#soap mactavish fluff#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish fluff#soap fanfiction#soap fanfic#soap mactavish#soap call of duty#soap cod#soap mw2#soap imagine#cod fanfiction#cod fanfic#cod fic#cod fluff#cod imagine#call of duty imagine#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#call of duty fluff#soap x reader#dad!141
612 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tethered Bonds
✠Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)
A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?
Main Masterlist ✠Ao3
✠Part Three - Deja vu
Remember when I said this was supposed to be the easy side project made of easy to consume chapters that was supposed to be easy on my brain? Oh the way life throws a wrench in things.
Apologies for the wait but thank you for the patience! A bit longer of a chapter this time (almost double the length) because if you also read my other fic you'll know I have a moderation problem :)
Trigger warnings: angst, depression
Time converted its seconds into a slow-motion camera, capturing the hectic moment as a series of shutter clicks in your mind. Rich earthy elixirs trapped like icicles in a frozen pour from heated spouts. Spare precious change suspended in mid-air spilled from jittery hands. A systolic heartbeat waiting to finish its rhythm. An overplayed Christmas jingle with the record player set to the lowest speed.Â
How did you not pick up on the telltale signs sooner? It wasnât as if this was a first occurrence for you anymore. Precious moments of escape wasted daydreaming of warm comfort when it couldâve been spent backpedaling to the safety of your vehicle. Even more insulting when you considered how perceptive youâd been not ten minutes prior, untrusting of your nose to keep you from trouble in the supermarket bakery, head on a dizzying swivel for any more unwanted surprises.
Yet here you were again, betrayed by the very caffeine that was supposed to be your savior, too slow to duck back out the shop before your scent had a chance to reach his nostrils.Â
Now you were pinned in place by a complete stranger who had no business smelling that edible.
Pupils blown wide mirrored your own. Blue irises framed by full lashes contrasted against a faded tan that spoke of time spent abroad in warmer climates. Dark brown hair shorn close on the sides peaked into a mussed up mohawk, slightly damp from melted snow and tousled by the wind. Your eyes unfocused to take in the body belonging to the man - shifting lower, past slightly parted lips greedily inhaling your scent and a craggy chin scar encircled by a dusting of dark stubble.Â
A deep brown leather bomber jacket stretched tight across broad shoulders only a few shades darker than his hair, upturned against the elements and protecting a tree trunk neck, accented along the trim by matching tufts of a lighter insulating sherpa. A hint of medium wash jeans caught in your periphery, unable to glance further at the lower portion of his body, too encapsulated by the cosmic force that kept you snared within his gaze.
The back of your neck prickled with the knowledge that whatever was passing between you in the charged space across the checkerboard tiles was a transient mirage at best and a dangerous amalgam of broken aspirations at most. That grim lesson had been embedded into your retinas the hard wayâÂ
No matter how potent the connection, this man was not yours.Â
You shouldnât be here. You should not be here.
The alpha didnât miss the way you transferred your weight onto your back leg. Predatory focus latched onto the subtle way you shifted, instincts preparing behind barely contained canines. Youâd accidentally triggered something; a millenniaâs worth of ingrained primality overriding the structured norms of good societal behaviour. Like an old timey saloon, it was an overstrung standoff to see whose will would break first.
Your need to run outweighing his need to possess.Â
Eyes narrowed slightly, he pointed right at you with a warning look. In a rough brogue, âDon'tâŠâ
You didn't listen.
âHey hey heyâ!âÂ
It was all too familiar now - this choreographed dance of avoiding uncomfortable affairs instead of facing them head on, ignoring the startled clamor of bewildered customers as you darted past a group of unsuspecting teenagers through the narrowing gap of the cafe door.
Nearly bowling an elderly couple over in your haste to escape, you fumbled out a half-hearted apology as you skidded around the next corner with a high pitched squeak, losing traction on the glassy ice in your well-worn snow boots and catching yourself on a vintage lamp post that you used like a springboard to gain a few precious milliseconds of a head start.Â
This was twice in two days now that youâd undergone a fateful encounter the majority of the population could only dare dream of. And here you were bolting from destiny like a frazzled rabbit scurrying helplessly through the underbrush from what should have been your savior.
What the hell kinda luck was this?! And why did it have to choose now of all times?!
The door flung open only moments after, the previously innocent bell chime now a harbinger of doom. Heavy footfalls slapped through the condensed slush of snowfall. Something feral rose up in the presence of a hunter in pursuit of his quarry.Â
There was something on your tail, and it felt far more intimidating than a starving wolf leering at his lunch.
Your pulse was bellowing in your ears, weaving through the conglomerated foot traffic as best you could with a body not prepared for a long winded chase. A hot poker stitched your side and hobbled your gait. Frost coated your lungs with every ragged inhale, sapping what little breath capacity you had and crippling until you were little more than a wounded mammal, panicky and acting on pure foolish adrenaline. The rational part of your brain spoke of the futility against someone his size, the brief glimpse afforded to you of his stocky frame earlier proof that your alpha was capable; well fed, sculpted for survival, muscles made of endurance and stamina.Â
Everything desired in a good mate, the back of your mind unhelpfully supplied.
Long strides ate up the distance, navigating the pavement far more sure footed than you.
âBleedinâ Christ!â growled out the voice. âWill ye jusââ wait!â
The firm grip on your bicep rather than his frustrated words was what halted you in your tracks. The slippery slush beneath your feet gave way to an involuntary squeak as another hand snapped out to steady your skidding, keeping you from tucking ass over tea kettle. Heavy breaths turned visible in the frigid winter air as you panted from exertion, sucking in a heady mixture of espresso and chilled vapors that fogged up your mind and muddled your senses.Â
Fuck, he smelled good.
A gloved hand shuffled you further out of the way from the crowds of passersby, huddling beneath a shopkeeper's veranda, muffled conversation from the buildingâs interior a muted buzzing compared to the ringing in your ears. He shifted so as to take the brunt of the whipping winds on his back, sheltering you from the worst of it and allowing you to blink clear the stinging snowflakes from your eyes.
Although you never really stood any substantial chance of escape, there was still something surreal to be said about standing toe to toe with an alpha outside your family circle. He beheld you with the same wide eyed stare you gawked at him with, pupils stuck in a constant state of dilation as he huffed in your shared air, just as drunk off his scent match as you were. At this proximity, even the outside breeze wasnât enough to dampen the waves of pheromones spiking like heated tesla coils between you. Unlike you, he found it in him to scrounge together just enough self control to soften his stance and manage a relaxed smile your way.
âThere now, lass.â His words werenât winded in the slightest, something that petulantly annoyed you in your weakened state - even if the accented baritone of his vibrato was soothing the consternation from your veins. âSee? No need fer misbehavinâ.â
There was an obvious gentling to his tone; something placating with an edge of sternness that felt at odds with his choice of haircut. Blue orbs roamed your face as if he half expected you to collapse on him, no longer holding on to you but keeping a readied hand hovering in case your shaky legs gave way. Truthfully - with how you were still sucking in breaths - you werenât quite sure his assistance wouldn't be needed.
âChrist, LT was right about ye. Got a scent that can skelp a man flat on his arse.â
Even in your current state he mustâve judged you steady enough to maintain balance, despite still keeping the rigid preparedness in his shoulders as his hands sought a place in denim pockets. âGot a habit fer runninâ, dontcha?â
The capability of speech was all but lost to you, tongue cemented to the roof of your mouth and dry as a wilted prune abandoned on the vineyard soil. Youâd at least managed the bare minimum of appearing less like a beached guppy by snapping your jaw shut, but the snicker from his lips at whatever he found while searching your face revealed your inadequacy to mask as a functioning human.
Azure eyes sparkled with mirth. âI ken Iâm a looker, hen, but I âave tae say itâs been a while since Iâve left a bonnie lass like yerself truly speechless. Strokinâ my ego a bit, ye are.â
âYour coffeeâŠâ
The first words you say to the man of your dreams and all you can think of is his wasted cup left unoccupied on the counter.
âEh, itâs only a drink.â His shoulderâs finally loosened with a shrug. âMore concerned about yers. Not tae make ye feel bad, lass, but yeâre lookinâ a wee bit peckish if I can say.â
So your mirror liked reminding you every morning.Â
You waved him off on instinct, not needing the alpha to start concerning himself with your health. Not like there was much either of you could do about it. âItâs fine. Shouldn't be spending the money anyways.â
He wasnât satisfied with that answer, raising an eyebrow at your justifiably frazzled appearance, but choosing not to question it just the same.
âGonna be honest, lass. Wasn't exactly expectinâ ta bump into ya.â
You could tell by the bite marks on another womanâs neck.
No. Stop it girl. Thatâs not fair to him.
You shoved back the bitter taste of jealousy, forcing a smile you both knew was awkward. âYea⊠what are the oddsâŠâ
âMind ye, when the others mentioned their wee run-in with ye at the shop the other night I kenâd there was a chanceâ Christ, when Capân finds out theâŠâ His words carried on, but you stopped processing them beyond a certain point in his ramblings, focusing more on the melody as it slowly faded to the background. There was a lilt to his speech that didnât quite fit the occasion - at least to you. A restrained awe; measured happiness so as not to overwhelm you right off the bat with unbridled emotion.Â
Part of you was thankful for his careful insight considering the delicate nature of the situation. But even so, the squiggly edges of his personality felt forcefully crammed into an elaborate puzzle rather than fitting naturally into a predetermined space.
You should be thrilled to be having this conversation. Things should be clicking and the world should make sense and his voice should be songbirds twittering in your ear on a beautiful summerâs day without a cloud in the sky andâŠ
All you can hear is the man in a blue camry honking at the lady jaywalking in front of his car, the squeal of halted tires and shouted insults from hot spilled coffee across his lap. The poor woman on the corner shaking a can of loose pennies in hopes of a two dollar meal from the shop down on 7th Ave. Dogs barking at strangers and high heels clacking on wet slushy pavement.Â
Overstimulation hits you hard, leaving you incapable of making out anything but the shapes of his mouth without any of the feedback. His voice muffles despite only the foot distance between you, and try as you might you have no idea whatâs causing that smile on his face. For all you know he could be just as easily discussing the week's snowy forecast or reciting Chaucer like those lunatics on the steps outside the performing arts college.Â
The nagging presence makes itself known in the back of your mind, adding to the chaos plugging your senses and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a way that has nothing to do with the chill. The disgruntled alpha half a country away calls to your fraying nerves, taking advantage of your weakened mentality and twisting like a gnarled root around your windpipe. You disguise the full body trembles with a forced shiver, the restlessness of your fingers giving in to the urge to claw at your mating mark, hiding the motion by readjusting your scarf more securely and clearing your throat. A cold sweat breaks out underneath the insulating layers of warmth, adding to the already miserable conditions of the snowy bluster. Thereâs only so much more you can take before you split apart at the threads and reveal to the stranger just how rotted your insides were.
You needed to end the interaction.
âLookââ you interrupt his languid tirade, voice barely holding steady and as timid as a field mouse, mittened palm up to keep him from going any further and stunning him into silence. âYou donât have to do this. This kinda thing just⊠doesnât happen to normal people. Iâm not gonna hold anything against you when it was a one in a billion chance of us ever crossing paths. You have your life and I have mine.â
Something hard caught in your throat and gummed up your words, threatening to crawl into your lungs and make a permanent home if you focused on it for too long - gave it too much power. You hoped he didnât see the way you forced yourself to push through. âLetâs just⊠be adults, acknowledge that it happened, and go about our day as if we were two strangers passing by on the street. No expectations, no mess. âKay?â
Clearly not envisioning that reaction now that heâd finally gotten his paws on you, something in his look tightened at being told ânoâ. âHardly seems fair.â
Who was he to know âfairâ?
âAnd what about us?â he continued with an unexpected bite. âYe think we can jusâ ignore the fact that our scent match is wanderinâ about somewhere in the city unguarded and at risk of beinâ hurt orâ or taken?â
You could almost taste the self satisfaction flaring across the tainted bond, fighting back a wave of nausea and bristling at the emotional wound he unknowingly gut punched.
âAnd your omega?â You watched him flinch at the obvious retort, both hating and relishing in his discomfort at having reality thrown back in his face. At least you both knew there was an element of betrayal lingering beneath the surface. âYou really want her to have to come home every day with you smelling like another woman? Your fated woman? Do you realize the damage thatâll cause not just to her but to your mating bonds?â
In a perfect world, this whole encounter would be different. Heâd say hi, youâd give him your most winning smile. The two of you would go back to the cafe and heâd pay for your coffee. You'd sit across from each other with stars in your eyes, getting to know the ins and outs of their soul for however much time your schedules allowed, blowing off prior commitments in favor of lyrical words dancing sugar plums around your head. Numbers would be exchanged and youâd both part ways feeling lighter and hopeful and impatiently waiting for the start of the next exciting chapter.
God, you hated fairy tales.Â
The alpha was clearly frustrated at how the conversation was playing out, scratching a rough hand through his mohawk with a groaned out hiss, eyes darting around empty space as a grimaced mouth searched for the right words. âLook, lass. The four of usââÂ
Four. There were four of them. Four mates.Â
ââarenât gonna stop worryinâ, not now that we ken yeâre within reach and without a pack of yer own.â Blue eyes skimmed downwards trying to peer beyond the veil of your scarf, flicking back up to your face when he failed, searching for a sign that you remain unmated as he suspects by your reactions thus far.Â
Glancing off to the side, you avoid his gaze and focus on the piles of brown snow gathered along the curb, not trusting yourself to keep a straight face under his careful scrutiny. He must take your avoidance as confirmation, returning to the conversation at hand.
âAlright, yea. Weâve already bonded another. Nothinâ tae be done about it now and thereâs no use bawlinâ oâer what might âave been. But if ye think that's gonna stop us from tryinâ tae be a part of yer life then yer sorely mistaken.âÂ
Thereâs an endearing quality to his convictions - as misguided as you believe them to be. So sure of himself, reflected in the take-no-objections posture and firm set of his brows. All confident alpha bravado.Â
A small part of you keens at his certitude, recognizing it on a primal level and wanting to bask in the commanding presence yourâ the alpha provides. But those same instincts that scream at you to welcome his protective nature also serve as a reminder of why that could never work.
Thereâs a reason packs only keep one omega. While alphas are stereotyped as being the possessive pigheaded brutes who covet your kind like unstable beasts, everyone knows there is none so fierce as a territorial omega, baring her teeth to encroaching females without a momentâs hesitation to defend. Itâs not like youâre the worst sorts of overly attached pack mates though. Society wouldn't be able to function if an omega snapped every time they all came within three feet of each other.Â
But to have the two coexisting within the same ecosystem fighting over the affections of the same alphasâŠ
If the heartbreak wouldnât kill them, the blood on their teeth will.
The fact that heâs trying to send all that flying out the window is both impressive and infuriating in its stubbornness.Â
Your own voice is far more subdued as you fidget with the hem of your coat. âThatâs not how this is supposed to workâŠâ
âOh aye? Turninâ down gaggles of soulmates jusâ a light Saturday morninâ fer ya then?â
Despite the dour mood, you huffed in something akin to levity at his words, feeling some of that tension unreel from your bones in the face of the small upward curve of his lips that accompanied them. âIf I say yes will that convince you to throw in the towel?â
Enchanting eyes sparked with determination and something playful. âHate to break it tae ya, lass, but weâre a right stubborn bunch oâ blokes.â
âAnd her?âÂ
Cerulean eyes hardened again. âWeâll sort that out between us.âÂ
A leather covered arm reaches out to guard your left side, a firm body stepping into your space to block you from a passing beta encroaching too close on your private conversation. You donât miss the slight rumble in his chest given as a warning to the traipsing man, the subtle growl claiming this spot and two of you in it, an intimidating scowl berating him for nearly knocking into you because of it. It catches you off guard, unconsciously leaning into the alpha's safety from the unaware intruder, the heady scent of freshly ground coffee beans permeating his clothes and coating you in a fresh pot to ease your delicate nerves.
It takes the two of you a moment to separate despite both of you knowing the âthreatâ is gone; and even then the amount of space between is kept minimal at best. Itâs hard to deny the pull molecularly chaining you to this man whose pheromones are carving out spaces in the cracks between the marrow like rapids, filling the pock marked gaps and branding your existence as something completely different than it was before.Â
The structural fibers in your body are being split in half like colliding atoms in a particle accelerator. Itâs a molecular tug of war between listening to ancestral instincts imploring you to stay with the protective alpha and past emotional trauma begging you not to give in to complicated matters of the heart. Youâve been hurt once before by someone of his kind and the last thing you needed was to punt yourself all the way back to square one when it had taken you so long to reach this part of your healing journey.Â
You know where that path leads. Thereâs nothing waiting for you but despair.
Unknowing or lacking regard for your internal struggle, the alpha surprises you by shifting his arm to sprawl across your shoulder, a gentle but unrelenting force ushering you back in the direction youâd originally come running from, the deceptively casual grip brokering no room for argument. âNow, whatâs say we make up fer scarinâ ye earlier with that cup of caffeine ye were gantinâ after, eh?âÂ
Maybe if youâd possessed a stronger will you mightâve opened your mouth to protest his commanding treatment over you. Instead, nestled close to his body and tucked in tight against his shoulder, he was gentleman enough not to comment on the small whiff you snuck on your way back to the cafe.
The soft instrumentals playing festive tunes over the cafe speakers were an appreciated break from the harsh monotony of whirring kitchen equipment. Depictions of snowmen and candy canes painted artistically on the inside glass celebrated the joyous season. Evergreens and mistletoe; frozen fractals falling from white fluffy clouds. A veritable winter wonderscape - the natural frost accumulated on the outside only adding to the weathering effect.Â
Red and green twinkle lights hung strewn across overhead support beams. Garlands with small plastic ornament bobbles snaked around the insides of display cases. An electric votive nestled cozily in miniature wreaths and placed at every table flickered warmly for an added ambience to the already welcoming interior.
The holiday decorations had been up since Thanksgiving, but youâd never taken a moment to really notice them, too focused on the transactional exchange and the time on your phone to give it more than a passing glance of acknowledgement. Fidgeting in your seat, it was a welcome distraction.
Youâd been ushered towards one of the secluded tables upon returning to the cozy cafe, your companion either ignorant or uncaring of the odd glances tossed your way by those still inside who witnessed your previous outburst. You kept your head ducked from the initial embarrassment, blood heating your face as he helped you out of your coat and slung it over the back of your chair, making sure you were settled before sauntering off towards the register to place the drink order youâd rattled off.Â
While he stood distracted at the counter amongst a sea of waiting customers, one of the older baristas with a candy cane apron discreetly tried to flag down your attention, meticulously cleaning one of the espresso machines with a soiled napkin purposefully tilted away from his view.Â
The words in scribbled sharpie pointed your way: âYou ok?â
Touched by her concern, you gave her a surprisingly genuine smile despite your jittery insides, easing her enough to pass along a thumbs up as she goes back to working on whatever festive drink concoction the lady at the drive thru has deigned to torture her with. It was kind of her to look after you given the strangeness of the day. But against what should be all rational thought you trusted the man who was for all intents a complete stranger.
Hereâs to hoping life didnât pair you with a serial killer.
Shaking your head of such nonsense (hopefully), it took you a moment to recall the last time you gave yourself permission to linger somewhere. With the exception of the hour spent every week in Dr. Mirandaâs office, you avoided congregating in public spaces for more than the few minutes it took to get in, get out, and return to the safety of your abode. Crowds made you skittish; the abused animal inside burrowed deep within your rib cage voicing its objections and reflecting its displeasure in the way it made you outwardly twitch. Once upon a time even stepping foot in a place like this - enclosed, swirling with clashing aromas, a singular point of escape - seemed like such an unattainable goal. Even now the awareness of the situation caused your agoraphobia to writhe under your skin, poisoning like fire ant venom and tempting your lungs into anaphylactic shock.Â
Deep breaths, girl. In⊠out⊠in⊠out⊠let it wash over you⊠inhale⊠exhaleâŠÂ
You are safe. You are safe. You areâÂ
Like nails on a chalkboard, the scratching of wood against ceramic jostled you from your meditative process, an involuntary yelp met with a small grin of apology as the imposing alpha placed your own drink in front of you before taking up residence in the open seat across. Something about the setting exacerbated his already potent smell, mixing with the sweetness of the beverages and leaving you with a deep gnawing ache to lean across the table and drink it straight from the source.
The tide of anxiety receded back to the depths of your mind, your inner omega settling in the presence of your scent match. Even if you couldnât escape the dark presence prowling like a half-starved panther on the other end of the bond, the natural relief that came with sitting three feet away from your opposite designation had you breathing steadier than you had since leaving therapy a short while ago. You may not be entirely comfortable with this predicament, but at least the attention came with a few built in perks.Â
The fake candle in the center highlighted the limited edition designs on your respective drinks, but itâs the name scrawled in sparkly black sharpie that catches your attention on his disposable cup. âMacTavish?â
âJohn,â he confirms, âpleasure ta meet ya, lass. Though I sâpose thaâs how I shouldâve started things out in the first place. With, ya know⊠manners.â
âNot like I made introductions easy for usâŠâ you mumbled with a wince, tracing over the cafeâs symbol on your cup as a small distraction from having to make eye contact at the admission.
âAye, ye didnât. But I cannae fault ye fer havinâ a sense of self preservation starinâ down a big burly Scotsman, now can I?âÂ
It had been moreso about running from your problems than being outright intimidated by the man, but you werenât about to question his assumption and open up a whole new can of worms in the process. âRight...â
There was a brief pause as he stared at you expectantly, hoping youâd return the favor now that heâd taken that first step with an official greeting. Something about offering up even that little part of yourself scared you though. It felt like handing over power to the fae folk; like once he knew your name he could strip the autonomy from your spirit and ensnare you forever in his enchanted domain.
Instead, you took a sip from the hot liquid in your hands, soothed by the syrupy blend like a steady palm rubbing lines down your back. Not nearly as good as the earthy bouquet your nose had been sampling with every inhale. Maybe if youâd added a pump of caramelâŠ
You fought desperately to ignore the part of your brain that whispered comparisons to the rich espresso-y figure across the way, stopping any and all sidetracking towards scandalous thoughts of a more private taste testing.Â
This was not the time for slick inducing fantasies.
Once he realized he wouldnât receive an echoing answer, he mirrored you with his own brew, humming in approval at whatever pleasant taste he found and dropping the subject temporarily. Thankful he didnât push, you read further down on his own drink, unable to help the small scoff of surprise after reading the incriminating label.
âA sugar cookie latte? Not the most masculine of drinks, is it?â Youâre not sure where you found the courage to softly tease him over his beverage of choice. Clearly his heavy alpha pheromones were messing with your logic receptors. âThought your kind liked to keep things dark and bitter.âÂ
âI'm an alpha, lass. Chasinâ after sweet smellinâ omegas is what we do fer fun.â There was a sparkle there that hinted towards your earlier predicament, a not so subtle implication combined with his cheeky grin that reassured you it was all good natured. You at least had the decency to duck your head abashedly, face heating up from more than just the warming drink. âKinda gives us a wee proclivity fer honeyed tastes.â
Honestly, he had a point. Canât say youâd ever thought of it that way before. I mean, seriously. Whoever said alphas needed to be gritty when they came naturally ingrained with a sweet tooth?
âGuess thatâs why she smells like chocolate.â
Your lips formed the words without thought, something mean tugging at you the same time he did. Nails bite into the recycled coffee sleeve like sharpened teeth, taking out the urge to scratch on the poor item rather than call attention to the scarf still secured around your neck. Couldnât even get through a normal outing without him adding his two cents to the mix.
A hard tap on the tabletop called your attention back to John. Youâd maybe expected an affirming response, but what you don't expect is to find him staring at you from across the table with a suddenly serious expression, speaking to you in an almost chiding manner. âI'd rather ye didnât bring up sore spots to intentionally cause yerself pain.â
He didnât allow you to hide, his face moving in tandem with yours as you attempted to duck his gaze, the blunt observation leaving you sheepish as you worried your bottom lip.Â
â...can't avoid the conversation forever.â
âAye. But the least we can do is get ta know each other first.â
That genuinely puzzled you. âWhy?â
Even through the bulk of his winter coat you could see the way the material stretched to make way for his biceps as he crossed them over his chest, leaning back in his seat as he regarded you with easy going eyes. âYer my scent match, lass. Ye think I'm not oâer âere stewinâ in a fruity cocktail wishinâ Iâd âave taken ye tae a juice bar instead?â
Your face heated again at the implication. Seems his own thought pattern wasnât too terribly dissimilar to the wiley suggestions pawing at your psyche with scintillating ideas of debauchery. âWouldn't go that far...â
âGot no shame in admittinâ yer drivinâ me up the wall.â
He really didnât, did he?Â
âNot sure you should be saying things like that.â
âProbably.â He shrugged nonchalantly. âNeâer been one fer followinâ rules though. Doesnae make sense when we're both wantinâ the same thing.â
You examined him over the rim of your cup, forearm resting on the sticky laminate as you leaned in closer, almost imploring in your tone. âIsn't that just further proof we shouldn't even be talking right now?â
Taking a sip of his own, he brushed off your concerns like a piece of lint from his sleeve. âYe really think ye can jusâ wipe yer hands and forget about us?â
Silence laid thick in the air between you. There was no point denying when he felt every bit the earth-rattling gravity well that had the two of you touching toes beneath the table.Â
He didnât even bother trying to hide the smugness from his expression. âExactly. I may not be takinâ ye ta my bed, lass, but yer mine nonetheless.â
You shouldn't have liked the way that sounded. For the past four years of your life youâve been unwilling property to a man holding you confined in a secret realm of bleak oblivion. Youâve begged and pleaded through every starless sky to go back to being the woman you were before fate intervened, desperate for peace in an internal war. All you ever wanted was freedom; to bound over mountains and soar across fields. To scrape off the layers belonging to him and build castles in the clouds far beyond his reach.
Yet here you were thanking the maker of scent wicking panties that your match couldnât detect the perfume wafting up between your legs at the thought of him staking his claim over you.
âSo,â he went on, âwe figure out a way thaâ we can be in yer life that doesnae cross any boundaries and ye gain four brutes that'll gladly shank a man fer ya.â
You raise an eyebrow at his choice of wording before taking a sip from your cup. âSounds a tad extreme if you ask me.â
Canines gleaming, the look he sends you is downright carnivorous. âOh, yer in fer a spell, lass.â
Chatter turns to small talk in an effort to distract you from the discomfort of previous conversation. Turns out heâd drawn the short straw when he and his pack mates realized over piles of paperwork and exhaustive meetings that certain individuals who would not be named - but heâd been more than happy to throw under the bus - hadnât checked some things off their list while out doing a routine grocery run the other night. Seems like the previous two youâd met were left nearly as shaken as you after the encounter, forgoing the last few needed aisles in favor of ending things early to process tough decisions behind closed doors.
Thatâs all the information he offers; no further details exchanged on the matter. The internal workings of your personal lives kept private. It didnât take a mathematician to understand why you prefer to remain guarded, but you assume on his end it had a fair bit to do with the obnoxious purple elephant in the room, trumpeting and stampeding all over the future you couldâve built had it just stayed locked in a zoo. Thereâs still some moments along the line where he lays a trail of tiny bread crumbs, challenging you with hungry eyes to follow the path through winding woodland and glittering caves towards whatever lay beyond. Youâre tempted a few times to chance a couple steps, toeing the line of curiosity but always pulling back to the safety of the unknown.Â
The less you know about their lives the better. You never even inquire as to the missing three names.
Eventually you settle on the topic of just how exactly he proposed this hairbrained⊠relationship?... was going to work. Fuck, there really had to be a better word for it. Not friends, not lovers. Not a situationship. Not total strangers anymore.
Companions? Counterparts? Symbiotes?
Either way, youâd both been spouting suggestions for the better part of five minutes and you werenât any closer to a solution that would leave both parties feeling satisfied. Granted the only thing that could work for you would be as little interaction as humanly possible, but he was firm in his convictions.
âWe can keep it ta texts fer right now if ye like.â
âBut then she'll feel bad if she sees you writing them.â
âThen we'll jusâ âave tae come visit.â
âBut then I'll feel like some sleazy homewrecking call girl.â
âNow yer jusâ beinâ a numpty.â
âIâm being realistic.â
âYea, ye should stop thaâ.â
âJohn!â
âLass.â
Oh, how you wanted to wipe that flippant laughter off his face and pry it from his mouth with dental tools. The damn thing was unfairly infectious in the way it warmly beckoned a smile to your lips. Here you were trying to be sensible about the situation he created and so far all attempts to come to some sort of compromise were met with off handed ribbing and facetiousness.
You wouldnât admit that some of the holdup was partially your fault - looking for desperate excuses to keep this from happening - but it hung suspended in the quiet between your words. And whatâs more he knew it too.
âWhat about the occasional email?â you threw out for the hell of it.
John outright guffawed at the ridiculous suggestion, drawing the attention of some of the surrounding tables without a care towards who heard, brawny arms tossed upward in fond exasperation. âThis ainât a business transaction, hen! Saints, what a notionâŠâ
âWellâŠâ you sputtered, âthen it seems like weâve reached an impasse.âÂ
Please just drop it.
He just looked at you with further amusement, swirling circles on the table with the bottom edge of his now empty coffee cup. âYe always a neurotically charged mess or is this jusâ my lucky day?â
Oh god. In your desperation to undo the upheaval heâs already causing in your life you really werenât painting a pretty picture of yourself were you?Â
You cringed backwards at the realization. âPretty sure youâre the reason Iâm making myself look like one.â
âAye, but a bonnie one,â he agrees.
âAnd youâre not worried about the mental stability of the person which life has comedically deemed yours and is making a complete fool of herself?â
âJust tryinâ tae make ye smile. It's been workinâ.â A fact he looked quite proud of.
And it was. You couldn't deny that. For how much havoc this was wreaking on the parts of yourself that had become so ill equipped to handle basic human interactions outside your minuscule inner circle, there was a part of you that was glad to find you still possessed the capability of laughing with a stranger.
The conversation paused as his brow knit in confusion, the faint buzzing of a cell phone rattling in his pocket barely audible over the din as he drew it from the interior lining of his coat. The way he held the device and flicked through it with his thumb implied a text message as opposed to a phone call, huffing as he read over the contents before palming it in his meaty hand.
âOch, the louses are houndinâ me fer their caffeine fix. Hang on a tic, lass.â Flashing a quick smile, his chair slid back with a sharp squeak as he stood, strolling back towards the counter and flagging down an unoccupied barista. It was impossible not to follow him with your eyes, ogling his stocky frame as he rattled off coffee orders from the conversation pulled up on his phone. Even the sweet beta girl behind the register wasnât impervious to his roguish charms; just a little more subtle in the way she admired the casual arrogance in which he leaned against the marble.Â
How long had it been since you last let your eyes wander over the shape of a man and thought of something other than a rancid dumpster and abrasive brick scraping morse code across your exposed back?
There was something uniquely disarming about the alpha. In many ways his ability to break past your bullshit reminded you of Dr. Miranda. Both refused to let you spiral to darker thoughts, spinning the world into one of muted colors rather than shades of desolate gray. But where she spent years undoubtedly locked in a study hall pouring over dissertations and cramming decades of designation theory over red bulls and ramen, John had accomplished that same level of trust in a matter ofâ
You checked the time on your phone. The pair of you had been sitting in this cafe for roughly fifteen minutes now. Thatâs all it took for this whirlwind of a man to blow away the cobwebs accumulating in your chest and deliver a shot of adrenaline to your synapses.
Too bad the monster in your veins would make sure it didnât last.
John came back from the counter holding a cardboard coffee carrier by the handle, looking down at you expectantly from his position towering over you. âRight, lass. Need tae be droppinâ these,â he raised his arm a smidge, gesturing to the drinks, âoff tae the lads. So hows about we quit the stallinâ and skip tae the part where ye stop overthinkinâ things and lemme have yer number?â
He didnât even let you open your mouth in feeble defense of that (true) statement before serving you a warning look that dissolved the syllables from the tip of your tongue. From what little youâd gathered during your brief stint together, you didnât doubt his potential gumption to wrangle you to the cold tile floor - even in the presence of all these people - just to fish the device out of your pocket himself if need be.
Personally, you didnât feel up to testing his bluff.Â
Working off pure muscle memory, you handed over your phone and watched as he pulled up your messaging app, inputting his name amongst the scant others on the list and shooting off a fruit emoji. If he noticed the sparse amount of contacts in your phone he didn't comment on it. Not like it was hard to miss a grand total of four separate text chains.
His phone buzzed again from the text he sent himself, handing back your device with a smile that erred on the side of slightly devious contentment. The bastard knew he won and was being unfairly smug about it. âThere now. See how easy that was, lass? Perfectly painless.â
Thatâs when it hit you.
âWhat if she says no?â The sheer panic gripping your chest catches you off guard as much as the blurted out words. Trepidation crushes like a hydraulic press, the thought of this precious fleeting moment being all you ever get seizing your body like a hundred electrified shocks. The rickety tower of emotional stability youâd been working so hard to keep steady seemed to crumble beneath your feet now that there was a chance he wouldn't be around to keep it from falling. âWhat if this is all just some big mistake and we never should have met and I end up ruining your packââ
Gods, this was so fucked up. A minute ago you wanted nothing more than to never hear from John again and now your inner omega was giving you whiplash trying to cling to an alpha that wasnât hers by the skin of her blunted teeth.Â
This was exactly why you didnât want to have anything to do with them in the first place! It was a no win scenario that was only going to make things worse by confusing your already emotionally precarious omega. Delaying the inevitable. Dragging things out. Torturing her wounded soul trying to wring water from stone.
But you couldnât give him up anymore - not now. Maybe once youâre home safe in your nest and can breathe clean air not tainted with his fragrance. When youâve forgotten the oceanic hues that gleam at you with such open eagerness. When his brogue and his candor are replaced with flashes of doe eyed brown and thick flowing locks and the taste of chocolatey truth cuts too deep to heal. Maybe distance will make this ache inside easier to bear.Â
But at this moment, despite your earlier hesitations, you werenât ready for the clock to strike midnight on the impossible.
If he couldnât read the distress on your face then he certainly was made aware of it by the sour smell of overripe fruit cascading off of you, bitter and tart and pungent as you began to spiral, getting lost in a torrent of what ifs and worst case scenarios.Â
You never got to finish your verbal stream of consciousness. Alpha instincts snapped into action before you could begin blowing fumes, disregarding his coffee as he hoisted you up from your seat with immediate alertness. Strong arms encased your vulnerable form, one hand cradling the back of your neck with gentle pressure, engaging the bundle of nerves located there with a direct line to the bodyâs limbic system. An omegaâs weak spot; it overrides all internal circuitry and sends calming signals to the brain, disengaging stress receptors, activating the amygdala, bringing you to a headspace of obedience and security. It was highly taboo to touch an omega there without their explicit permission; a right reserved only for close family members and chosen pack mates.Â
You should be angryâ you should be furious. How dare he assume that just because he was your scent match that it gave him any right to manhandle you! Robbing your ability to retake control and leaving you just as helpless as that fateful night in the alley.
But he was. And you just didnât care. Call it biology working against you, but all you felt in that moment was a deep rooted need to sink into his grounding embrace and let your mind go blissfully blank. Trusting in fate to send you an alpha with morals and integrity. Handing over the keys to a man who knew how to drive.
Releasing more of his smooth creamy scent into the air around you, body and designation worked in tandem to soothe every aspect of your overwhelmed being. Outside influences floated away with all the cares of the world, revolving around a fixed point in space exactly where you stood. Nothing else existed in this fraction of the universe. Just two souls destined to be together by forces beyond comprehension.
This was what you were made for. This felt right.
And, godâ he was purring for you.
âHey heyâ shhh shhh. Settle, omega, settle... easy now. Jusâ like thaâ... Thereâs a good lass.â
Slowly but surely, the acrid odor of anxiety faded back into the sweet juicy scent of a fresh crisp pear. A small whine escaped your lips as he sapped your body of strength, held aloft only by the taut muscles in his forearms. Glazed over eyes reflected the haze fogging your senses, melting you down into something gooey and malleable that dripped like corn syrup, sticky and coating every inch of your skin in a clear varnish. Breathing became easier. The heavy thumping in your ears faded back to white noise. Bones turned rubbery and tendons fell limp until you could no longer remember what upset you in the first place.
No longer needing the subduing effects of gentling, his hand moved from its spot at the back of your neck to the base of your skull, thumb tenderly stroking where skin met hair, shushing soft assurances against your temple.
âYe neednât worry a strand on thaâ bonnie wee head of yers. Ye dunnae ken her like we do. Jusâ leave everythinâ tae me. Iâll sort things right as rain, yea?â
The rational part of your brain knew better than to believe honeyed lies, but in the cloudy serotonin you simply nodded into the dark leather of his coat, spellbound under his tranquilizing touch.
âAtta girl. Câmon, letâs get ye tae yer car.â
Helping you back into your coat, he made sure you were bundled up nice and snug before shuffling you outside into the frosty air, a hand resting over the small of your back in a way you didnât object to in your current slothful state. The chime felt a little less abrasive this time around as you exited the cafe, moving in the direction of your car parked in its spot alongside the bustling rush hour traffic.
You knew the elderly thing was a spectacle to behold; all chipped paint and rusted metal, duct tape holding the bumper together, a dent in the passenger door from where your neighborâs kids had kicked a ball into it last spring. There was a crack across the windshield from where a bird made friendly with it earlier in the year that sliced through your vision but didnât impede you from driving.Â
âCharacterâ was the word you used to describe it, but it certainly wasnât what everyone else usually chose. John obviously fell into the latter camp.
âYe sure thaâ thingâs operable, lass?â He scrutinized every banged-up, well-worn inch of it, pulling a face at what he found lacking and raising an eyebrow in disbelief. âNot sure I trust it ta get ya to point b without a few bumps and scrapes.â
You sighed at the familiar criticism, having heard much the same from your fathers. âIt gets the job done. Still safer than walking around by myself anyways. I promise I wouldnât drive it if I thought itâd get me killed one day.â Only a partial lie at least.
He was clearly unconvinced, but blessedly didnât say anything further besides whatever mumbled remark he kept under his breath. Watching quietly while still keeping an eye on the surrounding area, he stayed near your side as you fumbled with the keys, grabbing the handle to hold it open as you tossed your bag on the passenger seat. âRight. In ya go then.â
You thought that would be the end of it as he closed the door behind you, buckling your fraying seat belt and hoping he was far enough away that you could safely attempt to start your car without any more judgment from him if this ended up being the one time it didnât turn over.
You jumped slightly as his gloved hand tapped on the glass, turning your head to watch him motion for you to lower the window. Rolling the old school contraption down, you were again hit with a velvety shot of espresso as he half leaned in towards you, forearm resting against the top of your car.
âIf ye think fer one minute thaâ Iâm gonna jusâ up and forget about ye now thaâ weâre partinâ ways yeâll be sorely disappointed lass. Thaâ there thing in yer purseâll be ringinâ before ye ken it and Iâm not afraid to come lookinâ if I dunnae get an answer.âÂ
The promise in his tone felt suspiciously like a threat, but one without any real intended consequence. His relaxed posture and sparkling irises assured you that while heâd probably still be cross if you ignored his attempts to reach out, you wouldnât be awoken in the middle of the night to someone taking a battering ram to your flimsy front door.
At least, you hoped they wouldnât.
Flashing you a playful wink, John took a step back from the vehicle. âTake care, omega. Be seeinâ ya real soon.â
Youâre shouting your name at him before you even realize what youâve done, the small part of you that longs for a deeper connection clawing free from the part that fears having her heart shattered. From a few feet away you could still see the fireworks bursting in his eyes, the way he stands a little taller and puffs out his already broad chest with euphoria at your proffered olive branch. You canât bring yourself to regret it when his unabashed smile conjures images you never dared hope for.
He waited until you rolled up your window and heard the telltale click of the locks on your doors engaging before finally taking off, crossing to the other side of the slippery street and walking with a hand tucked into his coat pocket until a line of cars finally blocked his retreating form from view.Â
You sat there for a moment with your hands on the steering wheel, the silence in the vehicle more deafening than the wind howling outside. The past twenty minutes played like rewind on a VCR, speeding through the chain of events leading to the present to be watched again and again and again.Â
After the fifth or sixth replay, all you could think of was rushing back to your apartment before fate could intervene once more and you accidentally run over your fourth scent matchâs pekingese with your fucking car.Â
<< âż Previous âż << ✠>> âż Next âż >>
#godihatethiswebsite#tethered bonds#omegaverse#a/b/o#call of duty#cod#spooky scary skeleton#prettiest boy#highland games#name your price#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#johnny soap mactavish#john mactavish#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#ghost x reader#gaz x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#price x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#poly 141 x reader
395 notes
·
View notes
Text
âmy all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) áŻáĄŁđ©
consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.
For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!
I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!
red means unfinished
blue means finished
đŻïž editor's note
(sorted by alphabetical order)
Dreams of You by seoktishie
You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. Youâve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!
đŻïž the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*
Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan
Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?
đŻïž this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.
Escapade by bonnehh_
"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by myâŠseemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.
đŻïž a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)
Ethereal by @purpleyoonn
After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.
đŻïž I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so
Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday
Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.
đŻïž enemies to lovers, anyone?
Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk
"I⊠I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, butâŠ" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all⊠hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"
đŻïž another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*
Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)
In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.
đŻïž spicyy đ„” but also cute. I love protective mates
Flaw in The System by Strayberry_
She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.
đŻïž honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.
Full House by fillomina
Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.
đŻïž I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.
Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh
Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for⊠something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.
đŻïž just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.
Her by untouchablerave
The question hangs between you, and youâre desperate to ask it. Usually, you donât mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as youâre so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the âwhoâ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. âI canât believe Iâm about to say this but⊠do you know BTS?â Your head snaps up in shock. âYouâre fucking with me,â you gasp. âIâm dead serious,â your boss replies. âJeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.â
đŻïž spicy but soft soft softtt
Hidden Marks series by Havenesa
ⶠHidden Marks
What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.
đŻïž This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.
â· Connecting Hearts
What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.
Highlight by Alphathyx
Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.
đŻïž friendship and struggle to success <3
Hotel California by Deliebre
You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...
đŻïž immediate connection... yes please!
In The Dark by BearPawBeach
"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"
đŻïž mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!
In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy
Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.
đŻïž another one about the boys being absolute simps!
Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane
From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.
đŻïž sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!
It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi
Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.
đŻïž sooo it's a little complex... just read it!
Late Bloomer by basicwitch13
Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professorâuntil one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.
đŻïž yes to yearning, pining, and healing.
Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter
The story of seven loves across eight lives.
đŻïž so freakin well-written
Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine
In a world where idols and actors canât date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.
đŻïž another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.
Magic Shop by AriZedd
In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.
đŻïž just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.
PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
The right hand, the left hand, the heart of Sylus Qin | ao3 | fanfic masterlist
Summary: Sylus meets with his legal counsel while the twins give you a tour of the base, you wake up from a dream, Sylus wastes some eggs, you attempt to get to know Sylus better, and you have your first 'date' with Sylus Qin. Part 16 of the Sylus series.
Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, some Sylus POV They/them pronouns used to describe reader, meant as a placeholder for your preferred pronouns slow-burn friends-to-lovers This story contains: a lot of fluff and patient, tender Sylus, despite the following: MC questioning their sanity, MC with self-esteem issues, MC in the death-throes of fear-driven denial regarding the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Sylus has been interested in them this entire fucking time, Aidan antics, twin antics, a little self-induced MC angst, mentions of violence, profanity, alcohol use, discussions of gray morality
Sylus lets his bedroom door shut behind him, leaving you to dress, preparing to leave you in Luke and Kieranâs hands. His heartâso long an empty cavern, echoing the rapid-fire rhythm of its beatâclenches, jams. Youâre just on the other side of the door, and youâre already too far.
The twins are leaning against the hallway wall on either side of the door. As he steps out, their heads snap up.
He pauses. âShow kitten around the base, wherever they want to go. Finish the tour with the guest wing.â
Kieran straightens. âWhy the guest wing? Is your hunter not staying in your room?â Heâs still hoarse from the previous night, and Sylus makes a mental note to get him some throat lozenges. It was your feral kitten who hurt him, after all, although itâs arguably also Kieran and Lukeâs own fault for approaching a seasoned warrior in a notoriously dangerous area like a couple of serial killers. Which the twins are, but not in the typical sense of the term.
âKitten hasnât decided where to stay yet,â Sylus answers, secure in the knowledge that you will choose him. But he is serious about wanting to at least offer you the choiceâof rooms. Because even if you choose another room to stay in, he intends to find his way there at the end of every day. You sleep much better when heâs around, after all. Even then, youâll still have a choiceâyou can always try to kick him off the bed again. Heâll just sleep on the floor.
âDo you want us to fix that?â Luke asks hopefully. âWe can flood that floor if you want. Whoops, all the rooms are out of order!â he feigns surprise, poorly.Â
Sylus snorts. âI have a feeling that if you tried to flood only the one floor, the whole base will end up underwater.â
âIs that a no?â Luke looks disappointed.
âThatâs a no,â Kieran answers for Sylus. âUnderstood. Weâll show them all the entertainment options we have to incentivize a long stay, before we show them the guest rooms.â
Sylus nods. âCall me, if it looks like kitten is getting overwhelmed. Their last stay here⊠had unintended consequences.âÂ
âOh you mean when you starved them and forced them to resonate with you and threatened to leave them to die?â Luke asks, counting on his fingers and tilting his head.
Sylus sighs. âYes, Luke. Thatâs what I mean.â
âOkay, then weâll tell them all about how awesome you are so that they forget that you can also be a massive asshole,â Luke perks up.
Sylus just looks at him for a moment. Even with his aether core, it took him a while to get used to Lukeâs particular brand of practical, blunt straightforwardness. So few people speak to Sylus with such raw honesty and fearlessness that spending time with Luke is always a refreshing palate cleanser after enduring meeting after meeting with intimidated, simpering fools who would turn around and slit Sylusâs throat if given half a chance. He tells himself thatâs the only reason he tolerates such insubordination from this half of his right-hand man.
âOh, thatâs a sound plan Luke, well thought!â Kieran agrees, pleased with his other half.Â
âJust give them the tour and keep them company until Iâm done.â Sylus learned long ago that attempting to corral the twinsâ machinations is usually fruitless, but clear instructions tend to keep the fallout from being too disastrous.
The young men nod in unison. Sylus considers continuing to take his sweet time to get to his office, just to further infuriate the undoubtedly seething Aidan who is waiting for him. But then he remembers the last time he had to wade through a bunch of barking human beings at one of Aidanâs munches. He sniffs. Heâd much rather get business over with and get back to you as quickly as possible. If Sylus wasnât already keenly aware of how much your presence in his life is already changing him, heâd realize it now as he swallows his pettiness and teleports to his office, instead of making Aidan wait out of principle.
As he re-materializes in his office, Aidan turns from looking at the wall where a majority of Aidanâs fountain pens have ended up embedded, forming the image of a large happy face.
âHow surprising that you didnât throw them in the pattern of a skull emojiââ Aidan begins, until black-red tendrils materialize around his ankles and sweep him off his feet. They hold him dangling, headfirst. He lets out a little delighted squeal that makes Sylus wince.
âIf youâre trying to discourage my insubordination in front of your paramour that youâre undoubtedly about to ream me for, Iâm afraid itâs having the opposite effect,â his legal counsel grins happily, wriggling against the evol restraints.
Sylus comes to a stop in front of him so that theyâre face to upside-down face, his thumbs hooked casually in his sleep pants pockets.
âOh, I am aware,â  he says in disgust. âBut despite your interrupting a very pleasant moment with kitten, I feel that I owe you an apology for making you miss knitting club. So enjoy my mercy before we get down to business.â Â
âAnd people say youâre a monster,â Aidan continues grinning dopily at him.Â
âPeople are fools,â Sylus tsks. âOh, before I forget. Speaking of interrupting my moment with kitten⊠they say that if you ever call them kitten again, theyâll tear out your tongue and make you eat it.â
Aidanâs eyebrows shoot up⊠or down, depending on your perspective. âThey said that?â
Sylus considers lying, but he doesnât want to mischaracterize you or your words to anyone. âNot the part about forcing you to eat it,â he admits. âBut if kitten doesnât, Iâll make you.â
Aidan just laughs. âI donât believe your empty threats. My tongueâs too expensive for you to waste like that. Still⊠removing my tongue, huh,â he continues thoughtfully. âNo wonder youâre so obsessed.â
Sylus turns, leisurely making his way to his desk as the evol tendrils bind Aidanâs wrists behind his back, jerk him upright, and then toss him onto one of the black leather couches in the officeâs sitting area. They dissipate as Aidan snickers a little breathlessly.
âFirst the happy face. Now giving me a little treat instead of a lecture. Iâve never seen you in such a good mood.â Instead of sitting up like a proper employee showing deference to his employer, Aidan just stretches languidly across the couch and props his head up on a fist. âAlthough Iâm still pissed that this is how you treat my pens,â he frowns, jerking his head back toward the impaled wall.
âI pay you enough to purchase all the pens you could ever want, plus the factory that makes them.â Sylus sits down at his desk, slouching behind the paperwork still strewn haphazardly over it that he abandoned after receiving the call from Luke informing him that you were running from him again.
âBut what you do not pay me enough for is missing knitting club. The grandmas are going to give me hell the next time I go,â Aidan grumbles.Â
âIâm sure you can handle it,â Sylus drawls. âNow, if youâre done whining, letâs get through this so that I can get back to kitten.â
Aidan lets out a dramatic sigh and sits up, as if the effort is utterly exhausting. âHave you had a chance to look at the latest draft?â
Sylus flicks the messy stack of papers with his fingers and they go sailing with his evol to Aidanâs lap. Aidan lifts one page, a look of disdain on his face as he holds it so that he can look at Sylus through the neat hole punctured in it as a result of Sylusâs boredom with the pen.
âThatâs what I think of the latest draft,â Sylus says.
Aidan tsks. âGood, that was my feeling as well. But you didnât have to mutilate the damn thing.â He gathers the pages, trying to put them in order. âAfter Iâm finished reprinting it,â he sighs dramatically again. âIâll redline it and get it to them this week.â
Sylus just nods, staring out into the night through his officeâs wall of windows. Itâs not too foggy, so the N109 Zoneâs skyline glitters menacingly, an undersea predator luring prey in the dark.
âNext order of business: FJB groupâs CEO is hounding me again to arrange a face-to-face with you. Heâs getting⊠aggressive.â
âHardly surprising, considering the type of entitled scumbag he is,â Sylus scoffs. âIâm not interested in his offer. Keep ignoring him.â
âSylus, I donât think heâs the type of guy who will simply get the hint and slink back to his hole. Doing nothing will only embolden him.â
âEmbolden him to do what? If he doesnât get the message and tries to approach you directly, just eliminate him. I do not have the patience right now to play games with him.â He has much more interesting things to focus on, now that youâre in his bed, in his home, just down the hall. And this time heâs certain youâre right down the hall, and not sprinting through the night like a panicked deer. A deer capable of taking down wolves, but still, a deer all the same.
âThatâs a bad call, and you know it,â Aidan argues. âHe is strong enough to have an exclusive grip on the flesh trade. If you remove him, ten other would-be heads of the hydra will sprout and it will destabilize the Zone.That means more collateral damage.â
âAn exclusive grip that he has only because I allow it,â Sylus snorts. âAnd what, more collateral damage than the people he traffics?â
Aidan gapes at him. âWhat has gotten into you? This is the reality of humanity. People are not going to stop exploiting each other, no matter how much of an iron fist you wield. The only thing you can do is ensure that you think strategically enough to minimize the inevitable harm.â
Sylus frowns. That is indeed what he has always thought. The depravity of humanity is such that eradication of human suffering is impossible, and no one person can save the world. People can hardly save themselves. Sylus himself has learned that lesson the hard way, over and over. Itâs not his responsibility to save everyone. That is something that this version of you simply does not understand, and youâre vulnerable because of it. Someday, if Sylus doesnât stop you, youâre going to get yourself killed because of your misguided sense of duty to strangers whose fate is being born to suffer. But knowing this version of you⊠thinking about how hard you take every loss, the way your already broken heart is chiseled further with every person you canât save⊠his own assault rifle heart jams again.Â
The CEO of the FJB Group is just the type of person Sylus thinks youâd like to bathe your feet in the blood of, even if you hate admitting that to yourself. Sylus would happily string him up, field dress him like the pathetic prey he is, and let his corpse drain for your bathing pleasure.
But since youâre still having a hard time admitting that yourself, heâs worried that if he does, you might get mad. And Aidanâs right. If he kills this fuck, ten others will try to claw their way up to take the empty throne.
âNoted. Just keep ignoring him. If he still wonât take no for an answer, let me know.â Aidan looks relieved, until he continues. âBut Iâm going to rely on you more for the next few weeks. Handle everything you can without bothering me, unless you want to contact me in a personal capacity. Things are settled enough after cleaning houseâI want to focus on personal matters for the foreseeable future.â
Aidan jerks to his feet but takes a deep breath. He begins to pace, hands folded behind his back. Sylus appreciates his self control, as he knows that his litigatorâs instinct is to immediately counter-argue his disagreement.
He stops, turns to Sylus, huffs.
âSpeak,â Sylus orders, lifting an eyebrow. Seeing Aidan flustered is always amusing, but Sylus is impatient to get back to you. Maybe heâll be done quick enough to take over the tour himself.
âAre you sure this is a good idea? The risksâŠâ Aidan begins, uncharacteristically hesitant.Â
âWhether itâs a good idea or not, itâs happening. The whole reason Iâm here is finally in my bed. Everything else is secondary.â
Aidan looks pained. âI still donât understand your single-minded fixation on this one person. This one person who happens to be a Deepspace Hunter, whose job mandate is to hunt you, in particular, and bring you down. There are literally thousands of other people in the world who would probably be thrilled to be in your bed. Why limit yourself to one, and to one who poses such a risk to everything youâve built? To your very life?â
âNot all of us have such a low threshold for amusement that just anyone in their bed will do, like you,â Sylus clicks his tongue.
âItâs not about a low threshold of amusement. Itâs being open to the possibility that each person you meet is a gift, containing an entire world, and the pleasure is opening the box to see whatâs inside,â Aidan retorts, âYouâre just a snob, and refuse to acknowledge that other people have rich inner lives, just like you do.â
âSave me your idealistic speeches about free love and the beauty of the human spirit. How you can come from where youâre from, handle the shit you handle in your line of work, openly acknowledge that humans are scum, and yet still enjoy them like little snowflake gift boxes, is simply beyond me.â
âIâm full of imagination,â Aidan sniffs.
âYouâre full of bullshit. Youâre just easily bored and like to fuck,â Sylus baits him, knowing that Aidan is actually sincere.
âExcuse you!â Aidan does not disappoint. âHow dare youâand what an accusation, coming from you, the man who can get bored in the middle of murdering someone. How do you even know that your obsession can retain your interest in the long run?â Aidan lobs back.
Sylus just smiles, with teeth. His fascination with you was already gigantic before he laid eyes on you again. It has only grown, the longer he gets to spend time with you. Your mix of strength and fragility. The unpredictability of your pleasure and your anxiety. Your blood thirst and your compassion. How can he ever get bored, when he has no idea what the next expression on your face will be? When he has no idea how youâll manage to misinterpret the obviousness of his devotion to you, his endless patience, his worship?
âOh god, never make that face again. Iâm going to be sick. Youâre so in love and I hate it,â Aidan gags exaggeratedly, like a cat hacking up a hairball.
âThen donât ask questions you donât want the answer to,â Sylus advises.
Aidan hangs his head for a moment, hands on his hips. When he lifts it, he looks more serious than Sylus has seen him in awhile. âJoking aside, Sylus. How do you know that if things go south between you, the hunter wonât turn on you? This is a huge risk not only to you, but everyone you care about in this organization if youâre taken out.â
Sylus sits heavily back in his chair. He spins it a little, from side to side, as he thinks of how best to answer in a way that Aidan can understand. âI wonât let things go south between us. I will do whatever it takes to make my kitten happy, so that theyâre never tempted to turn on me.â
âEven you canât guarantee that. Love is messy, and itâs so close to hate. Especially when you begin that love with torturing them and using your evol on them without their permission,â Aidan says, wincing, as if heâs regretful about being so brutally honest.
âI have plans in place to protect the people who need protecting, in case I fuck up so badly that my beloved is driven to taking me out. And if it comes to that, Iâll deserve it,â Sylus sighs. He appreciates Aidanâs concern, but every minute he spends expressing that care is another minute that Sylus is kept from being near you. âLet me worry about the risks. Your job is to keep the empire running while I fortify the foundation that will prevent your worries from coming to pass.â
Aidan looks like he wants to say something else, but after a moment, his shoulders slump. âWe just got you back. Donât get yourself in trouble again. And of course. You donât have to worry about the rest.â He straightens. âAnd now, if youâll excuse me, I have some puppy tails to pull.â He flicks a little wave in Sylusâs direction. âIâll see myself out. Toodaloo!â
Just as heâs reaching the door, Sylus remembers the last thing he wanted to ask of his left hand man.
âAidan.â Aidan jerks to a halt, and turns around, eyes narrowed, as if he can sense that whatever Sylus is about to ask will be a huge headache. âSet up a meeting with my architect, and get me a list of names.â
Aidan just stares at him for a beat. âDo I even want to know what type of names?â
âExperts in wildlife conservation. Particularly of the sealife variety.â
âYou want a meeting with your architect and a sealife conservationist.â Aidan says flatly.
Sylus just stares at him.
âMay I ask why?â
Sylus shows his teeth again. âIâve been informed that the base needs an aquarium for orphaned and injured fish.â
Aidan gapes, but then rolls his eyes so hard that Sylus is worried theyâll get stuck. âIâm thrilled that your hunter makes you so happy. Really. Just thrilled. But Iâm starting to get the feeling that theyâll also be the death of me, whether they take my tongue or not.âÂ
âSpare me your editorializing and just get it done,â Sylus forestalls further whining. Heâs getting increasingly impatient to get back to you.
Aidan groans, because he views it as a moral imperative to always make sure that everyone within a five kilometer radius understands the terrible sacrifices he must make as Sylusâs lawyer. âFine . Youâll have your list by the end of the week. But Iâm leaving before you can transmit any more demands from your kitten.â He sweeps out of the room in a huff and the door slams behind him.
Sylus sits for a moment as the door swings shut. He takes Aidanâs concern seriously, but even his furiously spinning mind has a hard time planning for a scenario where you turn on him. Not in this life, at least. He doesnât want to dwell on the past when the current you, so utterly sweet, so pliant in his arms, all of your spikes withdrawn for him and him alone, is walking around in his lair, with no plans to leave for the foreseeable future. He wants to rest too, while youâre here. He doesnât want to think about the past, or a future he has yet to secure. He simply wants to be with you.
He doesnât want to waste another minute. He stands and heads to the door.
* * *
You wake up.
All at once, on a gasp. Your heart is pounding. Youâre aching, aching, because you just woke up from a dream you canât remember and the only things that remain are the feeling of pleasure, of security, of desire reciprocated.
You lie there, eyes still closed, hoping that youâll be able to re-access the dreamâmaybe if you can fall back asleep quickly enough, you can pick up the severed thread again, return to whatever was giving you that feeling of a feast when youâre famished, a waterfall when you thirst, the weight of anotherâs body on you, in you, filling you so completely it eclipses that constant emptiness you carry with you through all of your days.
But despite all of your yearning, all of your effort, you canât return to whatever you were dreaming about. Only that feeling remainsâsafety. The certainty that youâre utterly cherished. That all of your worries from last night were simply little nightmares, extinguished upon your waking.
You remember where you are. Who youâre staying with. Who you were anguished about as you imagined him taking another to his bed. It all seems so silly nowâyou talking yourself into being sad, with no reason at all to believe that he would do so, when youâre the one he has invited into his home, youâre the one he wraps himself around at every opportunity, youâre the one who he insists he wants in his bed.
What a strange sense of double vision, or cognitive dissonance. Wishful thinking. Delusional fantasy. You know that there was a reason you were worried that Sylus would be seeing other people while you stay with him. But youâre now utterly convinced that such a worry is completely unfounded, so absurd as to make you laugh out loud. But you have no idea why you have this certainty now. It feels like someone reached inside your brain and flipped a switch, and though there was a logical reason to worry, you can no longer bring yourself to believe that Sylus would ever want another in his bed.
You feel insane.
You open your eyes, expecting to see the white canopy of the swinging garden fuck-bed above you, but you see the black, ornately carved ceiling of Sylusâs bedroom instead. You are certain you fell asleep in the greenhouse. How the hell did you wind up back in Sylusâs bed? The feeling of unreality intensifies.
You turn your head and feel an immediate sense of calm wash over you as you see Sylus sitting next to you, his glorious chest no longer bare, but clothed in a simple black sweater, his gold-rimmed reading glasses perched on his sexy hooked nose. He has his tablet in one hand. He looks down at you, one corner of his mouth lifted, and you have the most intense sensation that you know what his lips feel like. That you could map his tongue, recognize it by the feel of it in your mouth if you were blindfolded, its heft and insistence between your lips.
You feel insane.
âFinally awake, kitten?â he asks, nonchalantly. He reaches down and brushes his fingertips along your cheek.
âHow did I get here?â you ask, trying desperately to push the feeling of being pressed beneath his beautiful body into something soft out of your mind. Of soft silver fur under your hands. His voiceâ Yes, Beloved?
âThe better question is why werenât you here to begin with?â he snorts softly.
âWhat?â
He continues to look at you with that amused, barely-there smile. âNot fully awake, huh. Why did you go to the greenhouse when you were tired, when you had assured me that you would stay in my bedroom while you're here?â
You look away, back to his ceiling. The elaborate moulding is as extra as the rest of his place, but itâs so beautiful, you can hardly fault him for his preference for lovely things. If you can afford it, why not surround yourself with beauty? You just wish it wasnât such an oppressive black. But it belongs to Sylusâhe chose it, so you think you could tolerate it forever, given the whisper of a chance.
You donât want to answer his question. But that sense of security, assurance, safety , remains with you, even as you fail to comprehend where the fuck it could have come from. You feel brave enough to ask the question that was torturing you before you fell asleep. âCan you give me plenty of advance warning if youâre going to invite someone over forâŠâ you hesitate, trying to think of a more mature way of saying âsexy fucking fun times.â Nothing comes. âFor fucking? I donât want to get in the way,â you finish, lamely. But the thought of him actually wanting to fuck anyone else strikes you as so absurd that it doesnât even hurt to say it out loud. You donât think you even need to ask this question anymore, because you already know the answer.
But thatâs insane. And youâre a lot of fucking things, but you think youâre pretty well-grounded in reality. Youâre hyper-aware of realityâthe reality of being you, with all of your flaws, your broken pieces barely held together, which is part of your whole goddamn problem. If you were oblivious to your own weaknesses, to the reality of living in such a cruel world while being a walking open wound, you could strut around like a mediocre white man and feel entitled to everything, including Sylusâs exclusive affection.
âIs that why you snuck off to the greenhouse, instead of coming to nap in my bed like we agreed?â He sets his tablet aside.Â
âI never agreed,â you mumble, thinking about how he had said that if you found a room you liked better, you had a choice of where to stay. That conversation was left open-ended. There was never a deal.
âA technicality,â he dismisses your protest. âUnless you found a room that you like better?â he asks archly, setting his glasses on top of the tablet and leaning down, running his nose along your cheek.Â
Nothing has changed. No room, not even the greenhouse with its life and relief from the oppressive marble halls of his base, is more appealing than any room where Sylus is. You shake your head, and his lips brush the edge of your mouth.
âBut you were worried about me bringing other people to my bed, even though I have everything I want right here already,â he murmurs.
You close your eyes against the onslaught of sensationsâhis warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin on yours. You donât want to admit it, but now that your bizarre certainty has been confirmed, it feels silly to pretend otherwise. âYeah. I didnât want to⊠I didnât want to get in the way.â
âSo thatâs the reason you ran, again?â he asks, sinking lower, getting comfortable on his side facing you.
You just nod instead of answering, and itâs not because you want to feel his lips on your skin again.
âCome to me next time, when youâre worried about something like that,â he demands, but it feels like a plea.
That sense of safety is filling you, making you brave. You want to bottle it so that you can drink it every time you feel insecure in the future, despite how nuts itâs making you feel. âOkay,â you agree quietly.
âThank you, darling,â he smiles fully, and itâs so soft, you could die.
But hearing him say âdarlingâ is like a gunshot next to your ear while youâre sleepingâyouâre slammed into another reality, the sensation of Sylusâs hands on you, gripping your waistâhis heavy body pressing yours into warm sand, sucking on his tongue, reveling in the feeling of a part of him filling you upâ
You canât. You canât. Youâre delusional, no matter how real the memory feels.
âDarling,â you choke, trying so hard to sound unaffected. âThatâs new.â
âDo you dislike it?â he asks, brushing some hair from your cheek, resting his hand on the side of your head, thumb drifting along the line of your jaw.
You love it. You want him to repeat it, over and over, until you forget your own name. âI suppose itâs better than âkitten,ââ you grumble.
âBut I thought that you were okay with being called kitten, as long as it was me doing the calling,â he teases.Â
You scowl at him.
âThen, darling,â he pauses dramatically, like the big drama queen he is. âWas the only reason you ran, again, because you were worried I wouldnât warn you if I had a guest? Nothing else was distressing you?â
No matter how safe you feel, no matter how assured you are now that for as long as youâre in his home, he doesnât want anyone else around but youâyou canât bring yourself to admit this to him. You can hardly admit it to yourself. Not wanting him to be with others implies a sense of ownership, and you know that he is not yours. In any way, shape, or form. How can you be possessive of something that doesnât and never will belong to you? It does not matter how much even thinking that he doesnât belong to you sends a feeling of wrongness through you that is almost physically painful.
You shake your head.
âNo, nothing else was bothering you? Or no, I lose this round of the guessing game?â He watches you for a few moments, the movement of his thumb so soft against your skin.Â
âI win,â you say, feeling wobbly, feeling safe, feeling unhinged, feeling invincible. He doesnât belong to you, he wants you and only you, As if I would ever want anyone else in my bed, now that youâve been in it. You can hear his voice in your head, saying things that you donât dare dream of him saying.Â
âNot ready yet, then,â he says, and it almost sounds sad. But his face doesnât change. âWell, there will be other rounds of our game,â he says lightly, a clear transition. Heâs letting it go, and you are relieved. âIn that case, are you hungry?â
Hell, if youâre in the process of losing your mind, you might as well do it on a full stomach.
âI could eat a horse,â you answer, trying to match his light tone.Â
âThat can be arranged. But Iâm rather attached to the ones in my stables, so weâll have to outsource your request,â he says, one sharp canine peeking from behind his top lip.
âSylus!â Youâre horrified. âItâs just an expression.â
âI told you that you could have anything. You have only to ask,â he shrugs.
Now youâre horrified and curious. âHave you eaten horse before?âÂ
The canine gleams in the dim light of the lamp on his nightstand. âThere are few things that I havenât eaten, darling.â His hand moves from the side of your head, down, until he slips one long finger between your throat and his tie still secured there. He tugs, gently. You remember that you donât have any of your own clothes, and youâre still wearing his. âThere are places where eating horse is as customary as eating beef. But I never really cared for it.â
âThatâs a relief, somehow,â you say, even though itâs ridiculous to mourn the horses that fed him, when you ate the steak he served you earlier with such enjoyment. Itâs all cruel, in the endâthe necessity of survival which depends on anotherâs suffering. Your heart hurts, so you reach up and rub it. His blood-bright eyes follow the movement of your hand.
âMy tender-hearted kitten,â he whispers, with that same strange sad tone in his voice. âSometimes we must do things to survive that deprive another of life. Do you also mourn the wanderers you have to kill?â
You look down at his strong throat, the pale, soft skin there. So thin, fragile, with his fast pulse beating beneath. âSometimes, when theyâre particularly beautiful. When itâs so obvious that theyâre only following their nature, and that their violence isnât a result of cruelty, like people. Theyâre just made that way.â
âSo you donât regret the people you have to kill?âÂ
You would like to lie, and say that you regret it deeply. That youâre as generous toward your fellow humans as you are toward wild beasts, to the beef on your plate. But you promised Sylus youâd be honest with him, if to no one else. You shake your head.
âSometimes, the sense of satisfaction I get when Iâm forced to put down someone I know who has done horrible thingsââ you whisper, closing your eyes. âItâs frightening.â
âKindred spirits,â Sylusâs deep voice, the warmth of his breath, envelop you.Â
Are you and he really so alike? You had snarled at him, when you first met him, that you and he were not the same, that you would never be the same. You had snarled it at yourself, as much as at him. You open your eyes, and his eyes are all you can see. He looks so happy, hearing you admit the worst of yourself. You realize that you hardly know anything about this man. His past. His family. What he was like as a child. His hobbies, if he even has any. All you know is that he is a killer, a businessman. And that he touches you with the tenderness of a man handling something priceless. Thatâs all. Yet here you are, his hands on you, still gently tugging on a tie wrapped around your throat. Here you are, so attached to him already that the thought of him bedding another feels like your aether core mutilated heart is shredding itself. How did this happen?
You want to know everything about him. You tell yourself that itâs not because youâre ravenous to unravel his mystery, to be sated from the knowing, and cherish him the more for it. You tell yourself that maybe, the more you learn, the more your heart will ease, and familiarity will breed contempt. Maybe youâll be able to let him go when this is over, if you know all the ugly parts of him, all of his annoying traits like everyone has. You decide to ask him about when the fake dating will start, so that youâll have an excuse to ask him to share as much as heâs willing about himself with you, as he practices sharing himself with his beloved.
As if I would ever want anyone else in my bed, now that youâve been in it.
You shake your head. Youâre not his beloved. Why wouldnât he just tell you, if you were?
Would you have believed me, if I had told you that I wasnât behind your familyâs murder?
You close your eyes again. You feel insane.
I expect you to remember what you just said, when this is over.
You canât. You canât. If youâre wrongâ
You open your eyes again. Youâre here now. Youâre here now, and he has the tail of the tie clasped softly in his palm, and heâs gently pulling it so that it tightens on your throat, a hairâs breadth, and then releases. It feels good. You want him to pull harder. You want to know everything about him, and forget everything else. Youâre in a dream, and you donât have to wake up yet. Youâre not insane. Itâs just the certainty one sometimes has in a dreamâyou know something to be true, even though you donât know how you know. Sylus wants you, and only you with him right now. Youâre going to indulge.
âTo be clear, I donât want you to serve me horse,â you tell him, pulling back a little so that the tie tightens against your throat again. He inhales sharply, but the corner of his mouth lifts.
âAs you wish. Letâs go to the kitchen. You can choose something that you do want me to serve you.â He pulls a little harder on the tie and you let out a soft gasp.
You want him to curl it around his fist, pull you to him, devour you in a way you feel like you know, with a strange certainty, that he would. But you canât tell him that. Not yet. If youâre wrongâ
You open your eyes. Sylusâs face is flushed, his bright eyes narrowed on the tie, on your throat.
âI want to go to the kitchen, but I donât have any of my own clothes,â you say softly, needing desperately to break this spell before you do something that you canât take back.Â
Sylus looks confused for a moment. âDo you need your own clothes?â
âDo you want me to walk around in your oversized clothes the whole time Iâm here?â
âI wouldnât mind at all, but I donât need it. Did you not find anything to your liking from the selection of clothes in your size in the dressing room?â he asks, lifting an eyebrow. âI know youâre spoiled, but I didnât realize to this extent,â he says, not sounding displeased at all.
âWhat clothes?â
Something in Sylusâs face changes. âDid you not⊠explore the dressing room?â
You shake your head. âMephisto was watching me, and I didnât want to upset him by touching anything I shouldnât,â you shrug. âSo I just grabbed what I could see.â
Sylus laughs softly. âWhy would Mephisto get upset by you touching anything in this house?â
âBecause itâs your house, and Iâm an interloper, and he squawked at me when he saw me touching your ties.â
âAnd yet youâre wearing one.â His eyes flick down to your neck again.
âOkay, so I was being petty after he squawked.â
Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. âSo you thought I didnât arrange for you to have clothes youâd be comfortable in. And you thought that Mephisto was⊠surveilling you.â
Youâre confused. âUm, is that not the case? And then you sent the twins to show me around to make sure I donât go anywhere Iâm not supposed to.â At his pained look, you rush on. âI get it. You probably have a lot of valuable stuff in here, and just the intel about the layout of your base is probably even more valuable.â
Sylus sighs and drops his hand. âDo you trust me?â
You stare at him. Do you trust him? You let your eyes drift from his beautiful eyes, to his regal nose. His soft silver hair sweeping messily over his forehead. Would you be here, lying in his bed in his criminal headquarters at the pinnacle of the N109 Zone, if you didnât trust him? He apologized for hurting you when you first met, and promised never to do so again. Heâs been nothing but kind to you since those first long days with him. Heâs promised never to use his evol on you without your permission. He said that once given, he never breaks a promise. And you believe him. Of course you trust him.
âYeah, Sylus, I trust you,â you say softly.
âOkay,â he says, sitting up, pulling the tie gently with him so that you come too. You sit, legs tucked under yourself, as Sylus sits on his own knees, and very gently begins to untie the tie. The silk whispers along your skin as it falls away from your throat. He then lifts it slowly, watching your reaction. But you just sit still, letting him sweep it across your eyes as he blindfolds you, securing it at the back of your head. Itâs comfortable.
You feel him take your wrist and tug softly, and you go with him. Your feet hit the soft rug, and you follow where he leads, enjoying the warmth of his calloused hand on your wrist, enjoying the mystery of where heâs leading you.
After an unexpectedly short amount of time, he stops. You feel cold as the warmth of his body disappears, and you hear what sounds like doors opening, or cabinets. He returns to you, and his delicious scent fills your senses. He undoes the knot, and the tie falls away.
Youâre in his dressing room, towards the back where you didnât venture earlier. Door after closet door is open, and you see rack after rack, shelf after shelfâclothes that look like the ones you have at home. Athletic wear. Hoodies. Comfortable clothes you would wear on your days off. But also clothing that you donât have in your own closetâformal wear. Club clothes. Expensive fabrics. Pair after pair of a variety of sneakers, boots, dress shoes.
âNew rule. The next time you are faced with two possibilitiesâwhen you think that what you perceive could be negative, but could also be positive, try to consider that the positive is true,â he says gently, placing his big hands on your shoulders and leaning down a little to meet your gaze. âI had Luke and Kieran fetch some things from your home that I thought would make you feel at ease here. The earring. The plushie you hug the most often. Your phone charger. Your laptop is in my office. But I didnât want them to go through all of your things, and they have no interest in invading your privacy. I was hoping you can make do with new clothing that I thought youâd like, as well as your own care products while youâre here. If youâre missing anything, just tell me, and Iâll arrange for it to be sent.â
As he speaks, you feel your eyes getting hotâin dawning horror, you realize that youâve started to cry. Why the fuck are you crying? You donât want him to see, but youâre helpless under his big hands keeping you grounded. You take a big, shuddering breath. All of this kindness hurts. But Sylus isnât done hurting you.
âAnd Mephisto isnât following you to surveil you. Heâs programmed to greet you, and to follow you in case you need backup and company. If you donât have your phone on you, you can still reach me, wherever you are in the house, through him. Thereâs also an app on your phone for you to change his settings if you want. If you donât like his voice module, you can make him meow.â Sylus slowly pulls you to him, looking down into your face. He thumbs the tears from your cheeks, brings them to his mouth, and rubs the moisture across his bottom lip. He then pulls you closer, hugging you tightly to his chest. âAnd I sent Luke and Kieran with you to see the house because the last time you were here, you were really scared. Since I had to meet with Aidan, I didn't want you to be alone, but also didnât want to force you to sit caged in my room until I could show you around.â
You press your face into his chest, breathing against his rapid heartbeat, feeling all the anxiety and sadness of the tour and return to the greenhouse draining out of your body.
He leans down and presses a kiss to your bowed head. âIf youâre unsure of my intentions, even after all thisâif you consider the positive possibility and canât quite believe it, then just ask me,â he says softly into your hair. âThereâs no need to torture yourself with me.â He lifts your chin, and his barely there smile lifts his mouth. âThatâs my job. And there will be no doubt when I actually intend to torment you.â
You smile through your stupid embarrassing tears, laugh a little wetly. âItâs true. Subtlety isnât your strong suit.â
âYou know that much, at least.â
âHow could I miss it?â you ask.
âGood fucking question. How could you possibly miss so much?â he nudges your forehead with his forefinger.
You scowl at him. You feel light. And with the relief, comes the hunger. âDidnât you promise to feed me? Iâm starving,â you gripe, refusing to think about what else youâre missing.Â
I can promise you that whomever youâre thinking my 'crush' is, itâs not the person you're thinking of.
The only way he could have promised that is if he knew that youâd never consider yourself a possibility.
And Sylus says he always keeps his promises.
âWell, I canât let my spoiled kitten get any more hungry,â he interrupts your thoughts.
You shake your head. âIt would be terrible if I end up having to eat you because Iâm so hungry,â you tease, but he just lifts his eyebrows as if intrigued.
âWould it be so terrible though?â he asks. You pull back and gently push him toward the door.
âGo, make me something delicious while I get dressed,â you order him with a laugh.
âI see how it isâ just a little reassurance, and suddenly youâre bold enough to give me orders." He tucks his thumbs into the pockets of his black, worn looking jeans. âFinally,â he says, looking incredibly satisfied, before disappearing in a whoosh of air, scarlet-ink mist, and feathers that float gently toward you before falling to the floor.
You turn, sighing happily at the sight of all of these new clothes stretching before you. You donât deserve this. Youâve never been a big shopper. Budget too tight, too much ammo and manga to buy instead, when you practically live in your hunter uniform. But you spotted some yoga wear from a brand that is wildly expensive but makes the softest, best fitting shit youâve ever put on your body. You shake yourself. Indulge. Indulge. Indulge.Â
After youâve checked your bandages and cleaned up a bit in the bathroom, you drift through the base and find Sylus in the kitchen, as promised. Soft lighting from floor lamps and recessed fixtures hold back the N109 Zoneâs night stretching beyond the kitchenâs large windows. Soft classical music accompanies the sound of Sylus digging around in the huge fridges, the clatter of a pan placed on the gas burning stove.
âSo youâll be cooking personally for me today? Not your chef?â
âNot my chef,â Sylus confirms. âIâm the the chef today,â he smiles slightly. âSit.â He points to the bar stool on the other side of the massive kitchen island.
âI can cook,â you protest. At Sylusâs doubtful look, you defend yourself. âItâs true. I can cook. Xavier loves it when I have the time and energy to make something and invite him over, because itâs fucking hard to cook for only one person,â you say mournfully, suddenly worried about how Xavier will feed himself while youâre not there to ensure he eats vegetables along with his ramen. But he survived long before he became your partner. Heâs a big boy, you tell yourself.Â
âOh, I bet he does,â Sylus says under his breath. âAnd I am cooking because I thought you would want to give your abused feet a break.â
You squint at him. âThey hurt, but theyâre still functioning.â
âAgain, just because theyâre functioning doesnât mean you have to use them more than necessary. And I believe you when you say you can cook. But do you actually like to cook? Or do you feel like you have to, because itâs cheaper than delivery?â Sylus asks, breaking an egg into a bowl. âWhile youâre here, I donât want you to do anything that you donât actively enjoy doing. Youâre not here to survive. Youâre here to recover.â
Youâre so touched by his words that it takes a moment for you to get your mouth to answer him. Somethingâs wrong with your eyes again, and your throat is suddenly tight. You clear it. âDefinitely the latter,â you admit, thinking of a million other things that youâd rather be doing than cooking yet another meal. You often wish you could just slurp all your nutrition from a pouch and be done with it. âBut I do like baking. That doesnât count as cooking, because the result is fun.âÂ
Sylus laughs softly. âThen when you feel up to it, you can teach me how to bake your favorite things, because thatâs something I never really do. In the meantime, when chef isnât here and whatever sheâs left behind in the fridge for heating up isnât to your taste, Iâll cook for you. Deal?â
You watch Sylusâs big hands gently crack more eggs, grind some salt and pepper in the mixture, fling a little bit of butter onto the now hot pan. You could get used to this beautiful creature preparing meals for you. And you could get used to baking delicious things, and feeding each bite to him by hand. Youâre here now. Youâre going to indulge. âDeal,â you smile. âBut while youâre doing that, I need coffee. Can you point me in the direction of your coffee shit, coffee maker, and mugs?â
Sylus pauses. âI donât have a coffee maker.â
You stare at him. âWhat do you mean you donât have a coffee maker.â
âI mean, I have a french press. But I donât have a drip coffee maker.â
You squint at him. âYou have a fucking ice rink in your villain HQ, and you donât have a coffee maker? You make your coffee, by hand, every morning? Do you also insist on hand grinding the beans with a mortar and pestle every time you want a cup? Are you as much of a coffee snob as a wine snob?â
âArenât you sharp-tongued for a kitten who is depending on me for its caffeine fix.â Sylus sounds infinitely amused.
âIâm just consistently in awe of all of this means you have at your disposal, and yet you do nothing with it. And Iâm assuming that since you donât have a normal coffee maker, youâre also too much of a snob to have one of those fancy as fuck espresso machines that can make whipped foam, along with an entire fleet of flavor syrups on tap.â As you talk, you become more distressed. âOh my god, Sylus. Youâre a hipster billionaire. Youâre like, the worst of everything wrong with our capitalist society,â you say forlornly. Why canât you be nuts about a normal man? Whatâs wrong with a guy with a tidy little flat and a drip coffee maker? A nice accountant whose only crime is jaywalking, maybe a little tax evasion, for a treat, every year when filing. But no, you want to have the stuck up edgelord who can explode people with his mind and who thinks even professional espresso machines are too plebeian for his refined taste buds.
Sylus is just staring at you, an eyebrow lifted. âWhat I hear you saying is that you want a fancy as fuck espresso machine. Is that correct?â
You sigh in resignation. Your heart wants what it wants. âWhat you hear me saying is, okay, Sylus, where is the french press, the coffee beans, the grinder Iâll no doubt have to grind them with, and your mugs?â
âThe espresso machine will be here when you wake up tomorrow. As for the french press, beans, grinder, and mugsâŠâ he smirks at you as he points to one of the cupboards over the long, black marble kitchen counter.
You slip from the stool and go to open the indicated cabinet, finding the promised french press and tasteful glass jar of whole coffee beans. Of course even his storage containers are fancy and pretty. But you stop short, as you notice Calebâs gift and the CUNT mug sitting on the shelf next to the coffee supplies.
You blink. You blink, and turn to look at Sylus, who is now busy scrambling the eggs. âYou brought Calebâs mug,â you breathe.
âI told you, I wanted you to have the things here that make you comfortable,â Sylus shrugs, not turning away from the eggs.
You could cry again. The thoughtfulness of this asshole takes you by surprise, every single time. But you donât want to cry. You want to enjoy. You whip around and march over to Sylus, who is still serenely stirring the eggs. You peek around to catch his eye, ensuring that he knows youâre there. His red gaze flicks to you for a moment, returns to the eggs. You then step behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his broad back.
Your warning must have been successful. He doesnât throw you to the floor, or even stiffenâhis shoulders seem to relax, and he leans back a little, as if trying to sink into your hug. He puts the hand not stirring the eggs on your forearm, as if to hold you there.
âThank you,â you whisper, squeezing tighter.Â
âItâs nothing,â he says, as the scent of butter and eggs, the soft sound of cellos, the dark night and warm lamplight surround the two of you.
âItâs everything,â you counter.
âYou deserve to be harder to please,â Sylus grumbles, turning off the burner. He turns, and you try to step away, but he keeps his hold on your forearm until heâs fully facing you. He leans down and scoops you into his arms, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. He then just stands there, hugging you tightly to him. You hug him back, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes closed to better soak in the feeling of just holding him, of being held.
âYour eggs will get cold,â he says after a while, regretfully.
You just squeeze him harder. Youâve eaten worse.Â
You feel him laugh softly, your chest vibrating with his amusement. âAs you wish."
Suddenly, the moment is shattered with a ruckus like a herd of elephants pounding down the hallway, along with a crash, gleeful laughter and yelps.
âCheater, tripping is cheating, cheater cheater cheater!â Luke roars.
âThe first rule of race club is there are no rules in race club,â Kieran bellows, voice closer to the doorway, until suddenly itâs filled with two grown, grappling men, big biceps straining as they each try to prevent the other from entering the kitchen first.
âNo⊠you⊠donât!â Luke pants, wrapping his arm around Kieranâs neck in a chokehold and trying to drag him back into the hallway.
âOww, my throat, Luke, my throat still hurts,â Kieran whines. Luke looks stricken and immediately lets go, only to find himself shoved back further into the hallway as Kieran cackles and comes careening into the kitchen, socked feet sliding along the smooth, marble floor until he crashes into the kitchen island. He lets out a loud whoop, throwing his arms in the air. âKitchen-race champion, kitchen-race champion,â he chants as Kieran scowls at him from the doorway.
âThat was a dirty trick,â he seethes. âYou know I wouldnât ever want to really hurt you.â
âI keep telling you that youâre too gullible,â Kieran smiles at him fondly. âYou know all is fair in love and the kitchen race game.â
âSome love,â Luke snorts, and then his eyes widen as he seems to notice you and Sylus behind the kitchen island for the first time. You turn to look at Sylus, but his eyes are on your face, as if he hasnât stopped looking at you the entire time youâve taken in the twinsâ skirmish, as if what just occurred is daily life at Onychinus HQ and not even worth looking at. You glance back at the twins.
Kieran turns his head to follow Lukeâs gaze and then straightens as if at attention. âOh, apologies boss! We didnât know you wereâŠâ he takes in how youâre attached to Sylus like a koala. âYou were preoccupied in here.â
You look back at Sylus, but he just stares at you. Okay, if heâs not going to say anything, you will. âWeâre not preoccupied. Sylus was just making eggs.â You cough a little. âSylus, you can put me down now.â
He just hugs you tighter.
âEggs? Oh, can we have some? Iâm starving after my big stupid cheater of a brother scared the shit out of me by acting hurt,â Luke grumbles, sending Kieran a dirty look. Kieran holds out his hand, and despite his indignation, Luke slides into the kitchen on his socks like an ice skater and takes Kieranâs hand, who then wraps his brotherâs arm around his own shoulders.Â
âLet that be a lesson. How to fake out your opponent, and how not to be so gullible, even with me.â Kieran reaches over and rubs his fist into Lukeâs bouncing curls. Luke ducks his head and sweeps Kieran into a chokehold again, who just laughs. âThatâs it,â he crows, and the two tussle like a couple of puppies.
âI canât make coffee if you wonât let me go,â you say softly to Sylus amidst the racket the twins are making.
âDo you really want to make coffee now?â he asks, turning, setting you on the counter and simply standing between your legs. Youâre getting the feeling that he likes this position, because it puts your face a little closer to his if the surface youâre sitting on is high enough.
âWhy wouldnât I?â you ask curiously.
âItâs getting late again. Between the tour and your nap, itâs closer to the time I go to bed now. Youâll be up all night if you have caffeine now.â
âThen why didnât you say so when I first asked about the coffee?â You tilt your head.
Sylus just looks bored. Youâre learning that he does this when he isnât interested in answering you, when youâre most interested in the answer. Suddenly it dawns on you. âYou wanted me to see the mugs.â
He just lifts his hand and fiddles with the hem of the soft long sleeved shirt youâre wearing. âNow you know where they are, in case Iâm not around,â he shrugs.
You lean forward, placing both of your palms on his cheeks. He sucks in a breath, but stays still. âThank you,â you say.
âYouâve already said that, and Iâve already said itâs nothing,â he answers, his stubble shifting under your hands.
âIf weâre not going to have coffee, and itâs almost time to go to bed again, what did you have in mind for after we eat?â you ask, running your thumbs under his lovely eyes, indulging, indulging, not worrying about anyone else, not worrying about tomorrow or the day after. There is only today, every day, until this is over.
âWhat do you want to do?â he asks, leaning in, letting you pet him.
You think about it. Youâre still so tired. You think youâll probably be tired for weeks, until youâve slept enough to make up for your enormous sleep deficit of the past year, however long that takes. Your feet hurt. You just want to be near Sylus. Heâs asking you what you want to do like he intends to do it with you. So instead of worrying if thatâs the case, if youâre misunderstanding something, you say what you want.
âI want to start fake dating you,â you say. His eyes widen a little, and then he frowns.
âFake dating?â Kieranâs voice cuts through your thoughts, and you realize that the twins had stopped roughhousing enough to overhear your conversation.
âWhat do you mean, fake dating?â Luke asks, looking between the two of you.
âOh, your boss just asked me to help him practice dating so that he can successfully woo the person heâs in love with,â you say, the picture of cheerful helpfulness. This is already enough. Youâre happy to help. And youâre going to indulge the fuck out of pretending that heâs looking at you, instead of imagining the other person heâd like to have in his bed more than you. Because you canât imagine itâs you. You canât. Because if youâre wrongâ
Kieran and Lukeâs mouths drop open. They look at each other, and then look at Sylus.
âWhat the fuck, bossââ Luke begins, as Kieran says âFor someone so intelligent, you can be so stupidââ before Sylus cuts them both off.
âTake some of the prepped meals that chef left in the fridge and then leave us.â
For a second, they both look like they want to argue, but then they dutifully snap their mouths shut in unison, and you get that strange feeling of uncanniness again, like theyâre just one person who happens to have two bodies. They efficiently go to the fridge, grab some containers of what must be the prepped meals, and leave you and Sylus alone in the kitchen, now with only classical violin filling the silence.
âWas that a secret?â you ask, feeling bad if you just made Sylus lose face with his employees.
âI have nothing to hide when it comes to you,â he says. âBut they donât need to know every detail of my personal life, even if they may disagree with that statement.â
âOkay,â you say, still feeling bad for some reason.Â
He touches your chin, lifts it. âWhat did you have in mind when you said you want to start fake dating?â
âWhen we talked about me helping you, you seemed to be okay with the idea of practicing sharing parts of your life with your crush. I was thinking maybe while Iâm staying with you, you can already start.â You smile at him, hoping he canât tell how much you want him to say yes.
âAm I not already doing that?â he asks.
You tilt your head. Okay, so he has invited you into his home, showed you around. But you still know so little about him. âI guess so,â you say. You feel a bit silly now. Maybe you were hoping for too much. Maybe heâd rather get on with his normal routine, and isnât interested in any usefulness you have to offer at the moment.
Youâre suddenly really tired again. You want him to back up, to stop looking so closely at your face. âThe eggs are cold now,â you say, trying to keep your hand still, trying to resist the urge to dig your nails into your thigh. Heâs right there. He asked you to hurt him instead. You canât hurt him, so you canât hurt yourself.
âThen Iâll make new ones,â he says, still watching you like a hawk eyeing a mouse about to bolt from hiding.
Youâre not hungry anymore. You hate the yo-yo of your emotions. You want to be as unruffled as the man in front of you. Youâre hoping that the more rest you get, the longer you have to recover, youâll regain some semblance of equilibrium, some resistance to the rawness of the feelings hemorrhaging from your heart. But you know if you wonât eat, your blood sugar will crash and youâll be left feeling faint.
âNo worries. Do you have string cheese or something? Just something to keep me from feeling lightheaded?â
âI'm not feeding you logs of trash cheese while you're a guest in my home," Sylus tsks, probably affronted at the mere suggestion that he would have string cheese in his house. "What else do you want me to share with you about my life?â
âWhat?â You were just talking about cheese. Now you're being interrogated.
âYou said you wanted to start dating. That you were interested in me sharing parts of my life with you. What else do you want me to share with you about my life?â he says slowly.
âOh. Itâs really nothing. Youâre right, you are already sharing a lot by having me here.â
âI didnât say that.â
âHuh?â
âI didnât say Iâm already sharing a lot, as if you were asking for too much. I said, âAm I not already doing that?ââ because I thought I was sharing my life with you by inviting you here and hoping to spend time with you. So now I want to know what else you want me to share.â
âYou want to spend time with me?â you ask.
âWhy else would I ask you what you would like to do until itâs time for bed?â he asks, gently flicking your forehead.
âMaybe you wanted to occupy me so that you would be free to do whatever you really want to do,â you say, wincing a little.
Sylus hangs his head. Huffs a little laugh. âYour mind is incredible.â
You scowl at the top of his stupid, pretty head. âOkay, if youâre going to mock meââ
âI mean it. Your imagination is impressive if there is any ambiguity in a statement. We've been over this, and you promised to try to choose the positive interpretation over the negative."
You look away, feeling shitty for already breaking your promise. Sylus lifts his head and guides your gaze back to him with his forefinger on your jaw. "Habits are hard to break, I know. So let me rephrase. I would like to spend time with you until bed. How would you like to spend that time?â He places his palms on your thighs and smooths them soothingly up, and down.
The soothing gesture works. You feel the impending withdrawal into yourself, into your protective, sad little shell, reverse at his words, at his touch. You think about all the things you were shown today, and what the two of you could do for a little while together. Youâre too tired to read, so the idea of visiting his library is out. You donât want to work out, obviously, so the gym, the ice skating rink, even the poolâno good.Â
âYou have a home theater. Do you like movies?â
He perks up. âYeah, I do.â
âWanna show me what movies you like? Maybe we can watch one?â Youâre casual. The absolute definition of chill.
He eyes you for a moment. âWhen you say practicing to âshare my life,â is this your way of asking to know more about me?â
You shrug like itâs no big deal. Like youâre not terribly eager to know every single thing about him. âIf you want.â
âIf you wanted to know more about me, you could have just said so. No need to frame it in fake dating.â
âBut we made a deal. You wanted to practiceââ
He interrupts you. âAll right, we can date. But just ask if you have questions. And just assume that I want to spend time with you.â
âOur deal was fake dating,â you try again, because he keeps dropping the âfakeâ part and itâs doing things to your heart.
âWhatever you need to tell yourself, darling,â he lifts one corner of his mouth.
âBut thatâs the dealââ
âUh huh,â he says absently, lifting you from the counter with one arm, turning to the fridge, and rifling through it with his free hand. He manages to agilely balance a stack of containers. âThereâs a bar in the theater room, so we can get something to drink there,â he happily informs you.
âOf course you have a bar in there, you alcoholic.â
âNow, now, no need to call names,â he says serenely, carrying you and the food into the hall and heading towards the theater room.
Once there, he tosses you gently on one of the super soft, overstuffed in contrast to other furniture in the house, and of course ubiquitously black, leather couches that sits in front of a huge screen on the far wall. The couch is so soft you hardly bounce, just sinking into the cushion with a laugh. He sets the food containers on the low table positioned in front of the couch, between its two chaise lounge sections that stretch out on either side.
He sits down next to you, so close that his big thigh is squished against yours. âThe dvds are in the cabinet over there,â he says as he opens one of the container lids. âYou wanted to know what movies I like? Knock yourself out.â
You donât have to be told twice. You excitedly make your way to where he pointed and throw open a dark paneled cabinet door. Shelf after shelf, going all the way up to the high ceiling where youâre certain Sylus canât even reach, full of dvd after dvd. You run your fingers along their edges, reading titles silently as you go.Â
It appears that Sylus is a fan of classic films. You see titles that youâve never watched, but have heard in passing from cultural references or watching annual movie awards when youâre lucky enough to not be working through them during a particular year. Black and white films. Foreign films with directors youâve never heard of. As your gaze drifts over his collection, sounds of cabinet doors opening on the other side of the room serve as background noise. The clink of plates, of glasses, liquid being poured.
You donât think you see one film from the last decade in his collection. But maybe theyâre higher up.
âHow do you get up to the top? I donât see one of those fancy library ladders on a wheeled track anywhere. Does the great Sylus Qin resort to using a step stool?â You ask absently, still scanning the titles. He appears to be a big fan of horror movies. Youâre also a huge fan of horror, but you can recognize that youâre a bit of a barbarian in that youâve never watched the true classics. Maybe you can expand your cultural horizons while youâre here. Knowing more about classic film could come in handy while working undercover at pretentious wealthy bastard functions.
Your thought is interrupted as you yelp, having been lifted into the air by scarlet-ink tendrils and carried swiftly toward the ceiling, where youâre now hovering, eye level with the upper shelves of Sylusâs dvd collection. You look back down at him, where he isnât even looking at you as he is artfully arranging your movie snacks in little bowls and plates.
âA little warning would be nice,â you say drily.Â
âWhereâs the fun in that?â he teases. âCanât have you getting bored with me.â
You snort. âThatâs my line.â
One moment youâre floating leisurely near what looks like his Russian film section of his collection, and the next youâre being deposited onto his lap as he sinks back into the soft couch.
âThe presumption of people insinuating that even the possibility exists that I could ever be bored with you is astonishing,â he grumbles, and your heart hurts a little. Even other people can see how ill-suited you are for this mercurial, privileged manâa man who could have anything and anyone he wants, and has the propensity for boredom that goes along with it. âI donât like it.â
You just smile at him, because what can you do? âPeople are wise.â
Sylus scowls like he just sucked on a lemon. âOne other person, and he is a silly deviant and has been corrected, just as Iâm correcting you.â He places his hands on your shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the skin of your throat. âIn no universe could I ever be bored with you.â
âYou donât even really know me,â you say gently, letting your head fall forward under his soft touch. He slides one hand around and palms the back of your neck, squeezing gently.
âDonât I?â he asks.
âYou may know the ugliest parts of me because of your aether core. But you donât know my daily habits. My annoying quirks. How I brush my teeth. My favorite foods. My fondest memories. My pet peeves when it comes to lovers.â You lean your head back now, baring your throat to him, letting his big hand keep you upright. âAnd I donât know yours, either.â
âI know the most essential parts of you to be assured that Iâll never tire of learning about the details,â Sylus answers, shaking you gently.
You open your eyes, lift your head. âBut I donât know the essential parts of you, let alone the details.â
His wine dark eyes look so soft as they meet your gaze. âDonât you?â
You remember the feeling when you first met him. The voice in your head, urging you to devour him. Insisting with a violence that scared you that he was yours, to consume, to swallow, to feast. The recognition in you when you resonated the first and only time, when you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. You might not have an aether core in your eye, but maybe you do know the essentials of him. His cruelty. His violence. His single-minded pursuit of his goals. His steadfastness as he chases you, over and over again, as you run, over and over again.
I expect you to remember what you just said, when this is over.
You do remember what you said at Amnesia. And you remember a kiss that never happened, the taste of his tongue on yours that you canât possibly know. You feel insane.
âDo I?â you echo him.
âMmm,â he murmurs his confirmation. âAnd now we have all the time in the world for you to satisfy your kittenâs curiosity regarding the details.â
Maybe itâs okay to be a little insane in a dream.Â
âWhat movie do you want to watch?â you ask, leaning forward, running your nose along his, inhaling the scent of his skin.
He exhales, his warm breath soft and carrying the scent of some smoky liquor. âWhy donât you choose?â
âWhat if youâve seen it before?â
He turns his head a little, so that his lips brush the edges of your mouth. âIâve seen all of the films I own.â
âWonât you get bored rewatching?â You resist the urge to turn your own head, to meet his mouthâ you canât, you canât, not yet. What if youâre wrongâ
 âI wonât get bored. Iâll be watching through your eyes this time.â
âYou have so many, how can I choose?â
He smiles faintly against your skin. âWhat kind of movies do you like?â
You think for a moment. âI like all kinds of genres. Horror is probably my favorite, but only when Iâm in the mood. I think the movies I like the best tend to be character driven. When I care about what is happening to the people, what choices theyâre makingâwhen I want them to prevail over the conflict. Not just gritty and dark for the sake of being edgy. And I like happy endings unless itâs a horror film. Life is hard enough, without spending it watching depressing Russian films,â you smile against his cheek in turn before sinking into him, resting your chest against his, tucking your face into his neck. His hands drift up and slowly caress your back.
âSo you like fairy tales,â he says, but not dismissively. An observation.
âNo, youâre the one who likes fairy talesâthe original versions. Grim, unlikable characters being taught a lesson. Sad stories where no one wins, to confirm your cynical outlook of an unsalvageable world.â Youâre teasing him, a little. But you also think itâs true.
He huffs a laugh. âJudging my taste in films, just as you judge my taste in coffee, wine, home decor, occupationâthe list goes on. Iâm the one who should be worried that my darling will grow bored with me.â He pauses. âYou actually know quite a few details about me already, donât you think?â
Your mind drifts to all the time youâve shared with him, all the things you already know about him. Maybe heâs right, and you know more than you think. He has been showing you himself, every minute youâre together. Maybe if you manage to stop navel gazing and wallowing in insecurity, youâll learn even more.
âIn no universe could I ever be bored with you,â you echo him again.
âI'll hold you to that promise,â he sighs, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you tightly. Youâre getting so sleepy. If you donât start the movie, youâll be asleep before the opening credits are over.
âSo pick your favorite movie, Sy. I want to watch it through your eyes.â
His arms tighten even further, forcing a puff of breath from your lips. âIn a minute, darling. Stay like this, for a little longer.â
You nod, feeling his rapid-fire heartbeat under your own, slower heart. Itâs soothing, in a way that firing a real gun no longer is for you.Â
âIf you donât start it now, Iâm going to fall asleep,â you mumble, sinking further.
âThen sleep,â he says. So you do.
Sylus holds you in his arms, and for once, his mind is quietâno churning plans, no tweaking the spiderwebs of action and reaction, force and counterforce, push and pull, either for his business or to draw you ever closer to him. Heâs just a man, sitting with his heart in his handsâsafe and calm. He misses you, as he always does, when youâre so close but asleep. He considers joining you in your dreams again, just to make sure that theyâre as peaceful as you deserve, but decides against it. He skirted the edges of his promise to you by doing it once, even though he remains convinced that it was necessary. You were willing to share your fears with him after you woke upâhe just mixed up the order a little bit by reassuring you first and then asking questions second. But heâs unwilling to risk it again.
This is enough, for now. He feels the steady beat of your heart against his own submachine gun rhythm, and his pulse slows, slows, until for once, he feels like he can breathe fully without having to check behind himself, check the exits, check contingencies and backups, check the pulse in your throat to make sure youâre still here, youâre still real, youâre still letting him so close he can taste your skin when he inhales the scent of your neck. Youâre in his home, and you just had your almost-first, definitely not fake despite what you tell yourself, date. Watching a movie together, the most cliche, boring date of all, and you fell asleep before it even started. You called him something other than his full name for the first time, and not in a teasing way like crow man or good boyâan endearment, something no one else will ever have the privilege of calling him. It takes him a little while to figure out the feeling that has been spreading through him since you hugged him from behind in thanks for the lousy gift of a couple of mugs you already ownedâa feeling like how he has always imagined sunshine would feel on a mild summer day for a normal person.
Oh. He laughs a little breathlessly. Heâs happy.
If he wasnât aware of how much youâre already changing him, heâd realize it now, as he hugs you as tightly as he dares without waking you, feeling as foolish as Aidan waxing poetic about every new person being a gift with a surprise inside. Sylus doesnât need any other people to maintain his attentionâyou are the gift, a nesting doll puzzle box, a gift within a gift within a gift, and heâs so fucking happy youâre letting him open each of your secrets, one by one, that heâs dizzy with it. The ratatat of his heart fires, and fires, and fires. For the first time that he can remember, heâs looking forward to tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.
end note: My dear readers, once again I have failed to deliver big toys and action, but the plot has inched along very slightly with Sylus's conversation with Aidan, and hopefully the next part will contain MC having the run of Sylus's place and getting into some trouble with the twins and Noah if I recover from real world events and don't just crawl into a hole and hide for the next four years.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#lads sylus#my fanfic#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#i hope this is enjoyable after today
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkeyâs phantom troupe universe series
Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a âphantom troupe universeâ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!
It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out.Â
Since the day a tall muscular, handsome blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.
You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you.Â
So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black.Â
Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn.Â
One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didnât believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.
Phinks took you because he feared heâd lose you, heâd apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or youâd not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you.Â
Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning.Â
You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinksâs favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks.Â
'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change.Â
It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. Youâre too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress.Â
"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread.Â
You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it.Â
And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.
"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up.Â
"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good."Â
"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.
"Know so."Â
Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.
"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."
"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?"Â
You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want.Â
It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think youâll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement.Â
"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh.Â
You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts.Â
Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,
"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"
And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.
"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine.Â
And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more.Â
Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp.Â
"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"
Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him.Â
He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.â
You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't.Â
"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.
"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinksâ" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."
"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in.Â
His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see.Â
"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl!Â
The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.
-
"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"
You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."
"Figured you would be, he wonât care heâs probably only cominâ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."
"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."
"Which is my job right?"
"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."
"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"
"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.
Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). Heâd handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as heâd call them.Â
Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. Youâre in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.
âBabe,â Phinks voice called out, âCâmere.âÂ
You obeyed as if on cue, âHi.â As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side.Â
âUvo.â Said the largest man youâve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.
Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancĂ©, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men.Â
"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note sheâs frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her.Â
âSo,â You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, âPeople hungry enough to eat?â
âIâm fuckinâ famished.â Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited.Â
You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, âHuh.â Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fianceâs chair. âWhatâs normally on Channel 5?â
âWhat?â She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read âMenâ as you placed napkins around the circular table.Â
âDunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since youâre up?â Phinks asks.
âOf course, one sec, the remote is over there.â You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier.Â
Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red âPhantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.âÂ
âOh my god,â You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, âThatâs horrible.â
As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.
âWhat?âÂ
âShe doesnât know?â Uvoâs fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it.Â
âKnow what?â You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.
âOh- uh,â Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, âJust that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.â
What you can see of her, Uvoâs partner didnât have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers.Â
âWeâre gonna get going...â Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.
âTurn that shit off.â Phinks is at your side faster than youâve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. Youâre frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall.Â
Itâs then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think sheâs mouthing- âItâll be fine.â Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two.Â
Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldnât handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things thatâd make you cry.Â
âPhinks?â He doesnât respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. âTell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Whyâd they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?âÂ
âThought I told you not to watch the news.â
âIt was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.â
âShit.â He had been. He didnât flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station.Â
âPlease be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say âI didnât knowâ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesnât add up.â
âYouâre gonna hurt your brain thinkinâ so hard babe. Letâs drop it.â
âYou broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.â You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. âThat was uncalled for especially in front of guests.â
âFuck.â Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, âFuck!âÂ
You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.
âPhinks?â The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, âY-youâre scaring me.âÂ
You think heâll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesnât.Â
âY/N.â His eyes look as if theyâre screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, youâre too hot, feeling like youâll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, âYou know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?â You nod. âItâs a tattoo.âÂ
âTattoo of what?â You whisper.Â
You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually heâd open up. Because you trusted him.Â
But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink.Â
A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back.Â
An incessant ringing blares in your ears. Youâd heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldnât sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true.Â
âYouâre- when you leave for work⊠What is it you do again? And donât say some business- Tell me.â You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears.Â
âIâm a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.â
Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red.Â
âI- Donât play with me. Please tell me you arenât in that group! You canât be.âÂ
âBaby-â
âDonât touch me.â You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.
âY/N this doesnât change the fact I love you, doesnât change anything here for us. Shouldnât it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that Iâm strong enough to do so?â
âThatâs your attempt to convince me?â It wonât stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"
Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions.Â
"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?â
âYes.â
Fuck. Your worldâs collapsing, youâre certain of it.
âD-Did he kidnap his fiancĂ© too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"
"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"
"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?
"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."
"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"
"I.. don't know. A lot."
Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.
"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."
"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."
"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think youâre going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously.Â
"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?"Â
One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you.Â
"I need space tonight." You whimpered.Â
"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."
You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."
"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."
Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it.Â
Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad.Â
You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?
Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.
With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you.Â
Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that!Â
So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe youâd become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path.Â
-
When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart.Â
Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.
"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"
Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now.Â
You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.
You'd made up your mind that morning.Â
Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.
âI have a lot to say.â
âAlright.â His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.
âYou know, Iâm still mad you kidnapped me and wonât let me have contact with anyone I used to know.â Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. âI told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if youâd want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if youâd ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that Iâd fallen for you. Itâs weird after all this time I never told you that.â Seeing the tension thatâd built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.
You continue, âI think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows Iâve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and thatâs a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now youâre dangerous to an extent I may never understand since youâre a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didnât agree with. Thereâs cameras in every room. Youâd monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that youâre a hot head. I saw Uvoginâs fianceâs fear towards the news.â
Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, âAnd I now know itâs because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe⊠You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone whoâs capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, Iâm sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But youâre still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and youâll never admit you do too.â
âWhat are you saying?â He asked hoarsely.Â
âI hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.â You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.
Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesnât need to become the bad guy, he can let you think heâd have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. Youâre a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him.Â
The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, youâd hate him. And then when heâd have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, youâd despise him and yourself. Youâd be petrified of him.Â
But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul.Â
âI never want you to leave.â Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldnât be enough to describe what you did to him.Â
Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.
"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And donât hide the tattoo anymore."
"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, âI love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.â
âI do, I know.â You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, âUh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.âÂ
He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, âI donât know where to start babe.âÂ
âWell..â You think. âWhat do you⊠do? Thatâs not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?â
âAhh, I donât think you understand Nen at all then if youâre askinâ that.â
âWhatâs Nen?â You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadnât learned of it in school.
âOh fuck me.â The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you.Â
And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didnât matter at the end of the day, you wouldnât be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.
-
MONTHS LATER
This wasnât supposed to be happening.
One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. Theyâre talking but it wasnât loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped theyâd leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next.Â
The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower.Â
He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes.Â
Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldnât tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual.Â
âBabe, why donât we go out? Thereâs a farmerâs market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.â
âReally? Let me find something nice to wear!âÂ
Phinks held your hand as if heâd lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldnât have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, youâd found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.
While you hadnât been to the market in quite some time, itâd never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps.Â
Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as heâs too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow.Â
You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasnât of your concern, heâd have a handle on things.Â
Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But youâre too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like itâs a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in.Â
But then, âBabe.â You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, âFucking hell, scared me.â Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and youâre okay again.Â
âL-Lost you. Didnât mean to.â You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state.Â
âI know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.âÂ
This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. Itâs as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.
âYou donât fucking let go of my hand.â He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is.Â
âS-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-â
âI donât care, in public you know the damn rules.â As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, âJust- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I canât read your mind.â You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that heâd be able to snap faster than you could blink.Â
Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick heâd lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark.Â
âSo,â Phinks said, âRemember when I told you what actually happened to Uvoginâs fiance? How sheâd been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?â
âMhmm.â You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.
âGuess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.â You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well⊠Uvo did kidnap her. âShal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.â
As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. âHuh?â
âShal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I donât think itâs safe.â
âPhinks I donât understand.â You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throatâs suddenly so, so dry.Â
âThatâs what Chrollo called me about this morning.â He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly heâs trying to keep his mood together for your sake, âWanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.â
Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one youâd been enjoying. âI-I donât want to leave. I-â
âWeâll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..â He stopped, âKill them.â
At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, youâd asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right.Â
âWhere do we have to go?â
âMeeting Shal outside the city, heâll take us to Base. It ainât bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.âÂ
âOkay, do we have time to get some stuff?â You mentally began to race through the things youâd need for an extended time away.
âSee, we donât, so wish I thought of that before we left.â
âI swear to-â Phinksâs poorly timed laughter cut you off, âGlad my soon to be suffering because I wonât have my favorite pajamas is funny.â
The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings.Â
People you donât know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadnât met before, you were certain theyâd say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. Youâre trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if theyâre leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but youâre not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up.Â
You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didnât happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadnât mattered for Uvoginâs girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window.Â
âY/N!â You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you donât know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder.Â
âI checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.â Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadnât checked in here or else theyâd have found you behind boxes in the small closet.Â
âFuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.â
âYeah.â A new voice added in sounding further, âThose fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins donât even fuck with them.â
âThe big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I donât want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.â Retreating steps made you perk up.Â
âIf Y/N were here sheâd probably be running to us for help, she isnât here.â
You donât dare move a muscle, but itâs so hard. Youâre weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you donât know how your stress isnât enough to give you away to trained Hunters.Â
An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine.Â
So you wait.
And wait.Â
You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, youâve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldnât see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldnât lose your wits, and you wanted to scream.Â
Phinks will find you- he had to. Heâll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karmaâs way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriendâs victims went through.Â
Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long theyâd had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs.Â
Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you canât give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.
-
A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be.Â
The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers.Â
âWhere is Y/N?â He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitanâs dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes.Â
âD-Donât know! No-None of us found her!â He begged, âYou gotta believe me!âÂ
âI do.â Feitan shrugged, âTell me where others are.â
Thereâs conflict in the Hunterâs eyes, like he weighed his options.
âWonât say.â He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing heâd be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.
Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled.Â
Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when theyâd entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura.Â
Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadnât settled in hours and heâd chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.
Their prisoner wonât answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face.Â
Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. âWhere the fuck is she?â He gripped the manâs cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. âGone all quiet now, huh?â A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. Itâs when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off.Â
Feitan smirked, âGot it all out?â
His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror thatâd made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldnât care for your tears or pleas to let you go. Heâs imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvoâs girl. How when they rescued her sheâd been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldnât stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week sheâd been unconscious with IVâs sticking in her veins.Â
The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him.Â
âNeed to stay calm.â Feitan said, âAlmost hear your thoughts.â
Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his âfriendâ a glare, âI donât know if sheâs okay. Iâm- supposed to protect her. This is fuckinâ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.â It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, âYour girl can be next, Feitan.â
âI know. Stop speaking.â Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching.Â
âWe should go find Shal.âÂ
-
The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.
You weigh your chances here, assuming youâd fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And whoâd wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?
Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didnât creak and youâre now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you itâs night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars.Â
Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you.Â
You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. Itâs safe.
The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent.Â
But itâs the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath.Â
âPer GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.â That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand.Â
âFuckinâ hell.â Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside.Â
âNobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.âÂ
âWhy canât I just start screaming her name loud as possible? Sheâs gotta know itâs me.â
âUvo sheâs probably terrified and youâll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.â
Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone. Â
âHe on his way over?â
âHim and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.âÂ
Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs.Â
But what you hadnât realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldnât stop chattering. The sundress youâd adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state.Â
Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. Heâs on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. Heâs checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You canât speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up.Â
A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.
âShal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,â Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvoginâs arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, youâre trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition.Â
Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears..Â
âI got you.â Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. âSafe now, okay?â
The sky moved by fast, but youâre not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.
Youâre tucked into Phinksâs body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself youâre okay, he has you. A piece of you isnât even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car.Â
You couldnât stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat.Â
âBabe you can sleep, sâokay.â Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him.Â
âAre you- okay?â You ask, concerned for him.Â
Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, âIâm good, I got you back. I donât want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.â
âI ran, I didnât know what to do.â You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, âRan up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.â
His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, âWeâre heading to Base now and weâll get you warmed up.â
You cling to the blonde as if youâd be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. Itâs with the glint of orange rays that youâre alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt.Â
âI can walk.â You try to say to Phinks but heâs having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened.Â
âBabe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.â His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver.Â
You werenât sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door.Â
Youâre not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when youâd ask him questions. Youâre not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, itâs like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinksâs arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if heâd let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. Heâs covered in blood and youâre nauseous at the sight.Â
You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.
âIâll be right back.â Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend whoâs covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient.Â
You think itâs been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but youâre becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everythingâs okay.Â
âHey,â When you look up, the familiar face of Uvoginâs fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile.Â
âHey, how are you?â You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table.Â
She shook her head, âI should be asking you that. You okay? Youâre not hurt are you?â
âIâm not physically, just⊠scared and now really cold.â
Her eyes went wide, âOh would you like my cardigan?â But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, âIf youâre sure.âÂ
You hadnât seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. Youâd slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you arenât sure why. Health?Â
âIâm sure, thanks.â You want to say itâs because she looks like sheâd need the extra body heat, that she shouldnât look so malnourished.
An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitanâs faint shuffling breaking it up. Youâre curious, sometimes too much for your own good and thereâs suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvoginâs work or something along those lines.Â
âAre you-â Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And itâs when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in.Â
âWhy didnât you run?â
âWhat?â You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown.Â
âThis was the best chance you ever could have had- more thanâŠâ She sighs, âSince my healthâs not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..âÂ
Youâre confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, âI donât fully understand⊠Sorry.âÂ
âYou know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where sheâll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.â
âStop.â Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, âThat- I donât have stockholm syndrome.âÂ
She shrugged, âI might have it, might not. You canât truly know either.â
âI loved him before he took me.â
âDoes he let you have free reign of a phone?â You shake your head for âno,â âWhat about, can you talk to old family or friends.â You donât answer. âCameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he canât see or hear from you within seconds?â
âWould you⊠Want a new life away from Uvo?â Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.
âNo. Iâm content, I donât know how much longer I have anyways. Heâs in denial about it.â She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didnât care, like her current life wasnât worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, âI guess I selfishly, while Iâm alive, want to see one of them suffer like theyâve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.â You squirm at her words, âI know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess itâll be karma enough for his actions.â
âDonât you love him though?â
âDoes it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.â She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesnât slip past you as she recounts a good memory, âBut, it doesnât mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say Iâm irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isnât logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but⊠Thatâs all I want to say Y/N, donât forget who these men really are. Theyâre no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to âsafety.â None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.â
âJust⊠Whoâs the lesser evil?â You whisper.
âPrecisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.âÂ
You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.
Uvoginâs fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-
âAh, sometimes I say such strange things when I donât feel well, sorry about that.â She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is.Â
You nod, âOf course.â But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know youâll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.
An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer youâll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact youâre still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride.Â
Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you arenât doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. Heâd walked down the hall behind you so you figure youâd run into him eventually.Â
Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. âSpooky,â You think to yourself, hugging your arms close.Â
The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you.Â
Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked upâ Phinks.
âBabe, whatâya doing?â You donât have time to argue as heâs picking you up, âYou shouldnât be walking around.â
âWanted to find you.â You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.
Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day youâd had, âI was coming to get you.â Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came.Â
Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then⊠You arenât sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open.Â
âAlright, here we are.â
The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didnât care to have.
âThis is your room isnât it?â
âYep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.â
âWhy..?â
âIf Iâm ever beaten up after a job-â He explained, âI donât want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasnât bad for the bachelor life.âÂ
Itâs nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something thatâs been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if youâd never been in that abandoned closet.Â
You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, âYouâre coming to bed, right?â
âWhat a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.âÂ
âI want you to stay by my side.â
His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He canât scare you after the day youâve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high heâs coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. Itâs a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesnât care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself youâre his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think theyâre the saviors of the Phantom Troupeâs women.Â
God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away.Â
âI love you.â Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.
âI love you too.â He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldnât understand, would probably be scared of, âIâll keep you warm tonight, youâre safe.â Right now he knows what you need to hear.Â
âI was so scared Iâd never see you again.â
Good. Itâs secured in Phinksâs mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldnât find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. Youâre just so cute. And heâs lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that thereâs anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter whoâd been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all thatâs left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvoâs girl, heâs sure thereâll be more eventually.Â
He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that heâs âtoo bigâ, that youâre âtoo fullâ, and begging for him to stop- but gods he wonât stop not when youâre broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he wonât stop, never does, until youâve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because heâs not a good man. Because a good man wouldnât fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that heâs not good.
#phinks x reader#phinks magcub#phinks smut#phinks fanfic#phinks hxh#phantom troupe#hunter x hunter#hxh fanfic#hxh 2011#hxh#uvogin#shalnark#feitan#smut#angst#fluff#yandere phinks#uvogin x reader#feitan x reader#ao3#phinks headcanons#hxh headcanons#hhighkeyâs phantom troupe universe
318 notes
·
View notes
Text
⧜ â â ââ â â đđđĄđ§đđŠđđđ â â ïč â â javier peña mini series.
i fantasize about it all the time if you were mine. iâd give this pussy to you, nine-to-five, five-to-nine.
pairing: javier peña x fem!reader
series summary: arriving in colombia for work, you didnât expect to find the man of your dreams there, and you definitely didnât expect to prowl after him like some horny vigilante. Explicit. Minors DNI.
series tags: smut smut smut, set during s3 of narcos, kinda diverging from canon just a little, no use of y/n, reader speaks spanish, some physical descriptions but overall vague, use of pet names, breaking and entering, pwp, oral sex (f&m receiving), fingering, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, spanking, dubious consent, dirty talk, angst, office sex, light slapping, unprotected p in v sex, slight breeding kink, additional tags per part.
misc: đœđ¶đ»đđČđżđČđđ đŻđŒđźđżđ± â đœđčđźđđčđ¶đđ â đđźđŽ
the boy is mine | dangerous woman | need to know | don't wanna break up again | imperfect for you | read on ao3 | more to be added.
#javier pena smut#javier peña fic#javier peña smut#javier peña x reader#pedro pascal#javier pena fanfic#javier pena fic#narcos fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier peña narcos#javier pena x reader#kat's writing.
251 notes
·
View notes
Note
Iâve been binge reading your amazing husband!javier series and it makes me feel soo đđđ but what iâm very curious about is inĂ©s! i donât think (unless i missed it) that you ever wrote anything about when inĂ©s was born!! just curious on javiâs reaction to having a girl. girl dad javi for the win. thatâs it. thatâs all.
Girl
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: I so hope that this is what you had in mind, anon-sweetheart. This is the best I could do đ„șđâ€ïž
Summary: A glimpse into how Javier handles Inés, his two days old daughter.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: Domestic, descriptions of a postpartum body, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, newborn bubble, bit of angst, life with a tiny baby!!
Word count: 2.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57176173
Girl
There are soft and fine hairs on InĂ©s Peñaâs head. Javier already finds that his favorite pastime is to run his fingers over them, feel the way they brush against his fingertips, and send butterflies through his body all the way to his heart. The gentle strokes to her head make her squirm underneath his touch, solidifying the fact that he is a father of two now, one of whom is a baby girl.Â
He never quite understood the idea of wanting to take a bullet for someone until he became a father to Lucas. It makes him feel slightly bad about the stress he must have caused his father back in the day, running around intentionally seeking dangerous situations all the way into adulthood. He supposes that itâs payback that Lucas already causes him stress from merely existing and he has to force himself to give up control once in a while when Lucas wants to independently try new things that might get his knees scraped literally and figuratively. He knows itâs ridiculous to think that maybe itâll be different with InĂ©s because he has a certain idea of how it will be to be the father of a girl. Youâve laughed about that already, told him that sometimes it can be even worse with a girl.Â
A girl.
He weighs the meaning of this, has been aware of the new responsibilities that follow with having a daughter since he held InĂ©s in his arms for the first time. A nurse had handed her to him whilst you got some much-needed rest and he had been floored by emotions that shot through his body. He had never thought much of the significance of raising a daughter before she came into his life screaming but feeling her skin against his own made his mind spiral. How stupid a man he is, that he ever thought it wouldnât be much different than what he has gone through with Lucas, and whereas he still looks forward to the day of her first smile, her first step or her first word, a special kind of dread follows him around as he looks down at her now. The world is so cruel for someone so tiny and frail, someone bound to be met with challenges heâll never understand. Itâs a different kind of need to protect; itâs instinctual, intense, and utterly consuming. What about her first party? Her first job? Her first boyfriend? What about all the things that only you can help her with? Oh God.
He huffs out a little laugh that stems from disbelief. InĂ©s is two days old and she has already transformed him into something new. He loves everything about her: Her flat little nose, her disproportionately big hands, the details on her skin, creases on her forehead, and prints on her fingers that make her seem so real even when she doesnât do much. He knows she exists for real because of her being soft to the touch and because of the tiny noises she makes in her sleep but itâs the feeling in his body, a buzz that he canât explain that tells him how real.Â
Sleep is all she does really, much like her older brother did during his first week in the world of the living. She has big eyes that flutter behind her eyelids as she dreams, curling up her little body to mimic the way she slept in her previous home which is your belly until she wakes up slowly with a massive yawn that makes you giggle as you greet her.Â
âYou are so loved, InĂ©s,â he whispers as she coos in her slumber. He tucks the blanket around her a little more, rubbing her little belly with his fingertips, âSo so loved, mi amor (my love). MamĂĄ and I are gonna take care of you.â
He barely finishes the sentence when he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, making him turn his head to look back at you. You are standing right behind him, smiling tiredly at him and just out of the shower but you shake your head when he starts to get up from his seat to offer it to you.Â
âHow are my two loves doing?â You ask softly to redirect his attention away from you but he takes you in for a moment before finding the proper response. You are in the underwear that you specifically bought for the first month after InĂ©sâ arrival, waddling around as your body still hasnât quite figured out that itâs not housing a baby anymore; your belly is still rounded, your skin bears stretch marks that he thinks of as beautiful as lightning on a night sky, and you move through his home with the careful slowness of someone healing.Â
âPerfect,â he says when he still has his eyes on you, smiling warmly as you return it with a shy face. He turns back to look at his infant daughter and rests his arms on the side of her bassinet, âWeâre perfect, ainât we, InĂ©s?â
âAt least you are,â you groan softly, dragging the footstool from Javierâs chair towards the two of them. Your words are followed by a chuckle to hide your self-consciousness, âI donât feel very perfect myself these days.â
Javier tuts at you as you go against your doctorâs advice of not moving things that are too heavy so soon after giving birth. He decides to move swiftly before you can protest, getting up from his seat and guiding you to sit in his chair instead. He has a warm and reassuring hand on your back as he helps you sit down, knowing that the tiredness is as much from the soreness of your back and feet as well as the sleepless nights a newborn brings.Â
âGentleman,â you note.
âYou are amazing,â he stresses and sits down opposite you, not bothered at all by the new seating arrangement, âAbsolutely beautiful too. How are you feeling?â
âJust a little sore, itâs okay. Donât worry,â you admit and look past him to stare at your baby to consciously ignore Javierâs concerned eyes. You lean towards the bassinet and he decides not to get too fussy about you, just hears your dreamy voice and lets it wash over him, âCan you believe Lucas used to be this size?â
Javier shakes his head as memories of Lucasâ early days flood his mind instead, noticing the way his two kids already look a bit alike. He scoots his seat closer to yours and takes your hand without saying anything, âYes and no, it feels like it was only yesterday. Canât believe heâs running around now, stressing his father out like that.â
You put a hand on your belly as you giggle quietly, moving slowly to rest your cheek against the side of InĂ©sâ bed and only wincing a little. Javier squeezes your free hand but you choose to tease him instead of acknowledging his concern, âThis one will too, you know. Enjoy this moment while it lasts.â
âIâm trying but I really want to pick her up all the time,â he tells you with embarrassment. He wants to press his nose into the top of her soft head and inhale that distinct smell that all babies have, the one that seems to be holding him hostage in a bubble of sentiment.Â
âYou canât,â you scold playfully, âShe needs rest and so do you.â
âFuck, lo sĂ© (I know),â he nods understandingly but he has the kind of longing that only a newborn can cause to a parent, âPero es tan perfecta (But she is so perfect).âÂ
âTambiĂ©n serĂĄ perfecta cuando se despierta (Sheâll also be perfect when she wakes up),â you remind him and pull his hand to your lips to kiss it, showing him a sort of affection that only you have ever brought him.
âPerfecta como tĂș (perfect like you),â he charms with no other endgame other than seeing your mouth pull into a little smile, cheeks warm from his love.Â
âYou clearly need a nap too,â you say in your motherly voice, hiding your face from him and trying to play the fact that he still makes you feel like a teenager off, âGotta sleep when the baby sleeps.â
Javier finally tears his gaze away from his beautiful infant daughter. He sits up straight and watches you mirror him with hidden discomfort. He could continue his playful reluctance to get up from his seat but seeing how tired you look despite your best efforts to hide it from him makes him a little more serious.Â
âAlright, you win,â he lets go of your hand to hold his hands up in mock surrender, earning a quick and affectionate roll of your eyes. Heâll read your mind like this and adjust accordingly, happy to play the fool if it just ends in your comfort, âIâll behave myself if you take a nap with me.â
âThatâs a deal,â you agree and put your hands on your knees to stand.Â
Javier rises from his seat and holds out his hand to help you, shaking it a little when you donât immediately take it. However, when you do and haul yourself up from the chair, a relieved expression crosses your face when you can support your belly while he supports your back.Â
He guides you across the floor to the bed, chest feeling alight with his affection for you as you get comfortable under the covers. He dares a last glance at his daughter before joining you, lying down face-to-face with you and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You smile with heavy lids, placing your hand between your heads so he can take it.Â
âYou rest,â you tell him as he curls his fingers around your wrist instead, rubbing your delicate skin with his thumb.Â
âThank you,â he whispers into the quiet room.Â
You furrow your brows while smiling, âFor what?â
âFor giving me my family,â Javier drags your hand to his mouth, returning the kiss you gave him earlier. Itâs so gentle because you are so sensitive everywhere right now, body filled with overwhelming hormones and overstimulation, âYouâre a pretty big factor in its production, you know. I just⊠did what I do best.â
âJavi,â you avoid his eyes, focusing only on the slightly dirty joke by chuckling.Â
âNo, I mean it. Look at me,â he continues and only goes on when you give in and find his eyes. He places your palm against his cheek, âYou are a brave woman. And so strong. Your body is so powerful.â
You swallow hard, clearly affected by those words because he knows the journey to receiving the gift of InĂ©s has been a bumpy one. You both try not to think about that one particular night. You brush his cheek with your thumb, âThank you, baby. And thank you for being such a wonderful father.â
Itâs Javierâs turn to look away. He exhales deeply through his nose, âI donât know about that. Do you think Iâll be whatever she needs?â
âOf course,â you turn your hand to run your knuckles along his face instead, âWhat are you worried about? Look at Lucas.â
âThereâs so many things Iâll never understand being her father,â he says regrettably. He can feel his blood pressure spiking just thinking about the fact that someone will try to limit her for simply being born a girl. He thinks about his past, guilt rising in his throat at some of the things he has done during his years in Colombia when he jumped from bed to bed which now seem starkly at odds with raising a strong woman.Â
He closes his eyes briefly, a deep crease on his forehead showing you that this is not just a passing thought but something that has been rooted into the bottom of Javierâs mind. InĂ©s being born has simply triggered it to come out. He is struggling before you, feeling the weight of his newfound role as a girl dad.Â
âYou know, having a daughter is very special,â you say without getting a reply.Â
His thoughts drift to the challenges ahead, imagining the countless ways society might try to define or confine his daughter. The world, he knows, can be goddamn unforgiving if he doesnât live up to his responsibilities of teaching her resilience, to empower her to navigate a world where she might face things that he will never fully comprehend but will lie awake over if he misses the severity of them.
âHey, heyheyhey. Javi,â you make him snap out of it, scooting closer to run your fingers through his hair. Your voice is soft and tender, âWhere did you just go?â
âIt was so easy with Lucas, I know, but I canât help but worry if Iâll do wrong by InĂ©s,â he confesses quietly, ashamed of these intrusive thoughts, âIf Iâm a good example of a man.â
âYou are a fantastic father, Javier,â you stress and give him a sweet smile, a twinkle in your eye as you talk, âWouldnât have let you marry me and make babies on me if I didnât think that you were a good man, you know. Give me some credit for choosing you.â
âYou knew how to pick âem, huh?â He says with a smile, reassured.Â
âAnd I should know about horrible fathers, baby,â you bump your noses together with a little laugh, âBut seriously though. You parent with compassion and love. I wish I had had you growing up and Iâm a girl, so yes, my opinion matters.â
Javier's smile widens, the tension in his shoulders easing as he listens to your words. Heâll always feel undeserving of your unwavering belief in him but right now, he just lets it soothe his soul.
âYou always know how to make me feel better,â he murmurs and pulls you into an embrace, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that turns into several loving ones, the two of you using the little amount of free time you have to enjoy each other. Your belly touches his stomach which drives him crazy, your scent is everywhere, and he pants softly when the kissing ends.
âAs long as I am half as amazing as you. Youâre such a natural. I donât know how you do it,â he says and gives you one last longing kiss. He gently runs his hand over your still-rounded belly, the skin marked with stretch marks, âIâm in fucking awe of you, MamĂĄ."
"Itâs just instinct, Javi. We both have it.â
âDonât downplay it. You are the best mother they could everââ He doesnât get to finish his sentence when InĂ©s makes a noise of complaint. He tenses up and listens, his eyes going toward the bassinet. You both hold your breath, waiting to see if sheâll settle back into sleep or if she needs attention.
When the soft whimper doesnât turn into a more insistent cry, you are the first to speak. You tease lightheartedly, âSee? Instinct.â.
âYou know what? Iâm just gonna check on her,â he carefully disentangles himself from you and moves over to the bassinet. You watch as he leans over and he can feel your gaze in his back as he watches InĂ©s' chest rise and fall slowly. The joy of reunion is just the same each time he goes to look at her. Did the two of you really create something so incredible? He sighs in relief and reports to you, âSheâs fine, probably just dreaming.â
âSheâs asleep,â you pat the bed, âNow, come back to bed. I want you to hold me before Chucho drops Luke off tomorrow and we have to be four people in here.â
âNo more quality time with my girls,â he pouts theatrically as he gets into bed again. He scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.Â
âWeâll have plenty of quality time, just a bit noisier,â you say with a soft laugh. You nestle against him, feeling the warmth and safety of his embrace.Â
âChrist, I love you,â he whispers into your hair.
âMhm,â you kiss his chest even if itâs on top of his t-shirt.
As you drift off to sleep in his arms, Javier feels excitement when he thinks about spending his first day as a family of four with you. Tomorrow canât come soon enough, so he falls asleep until he is needed, knowing heâll be there in less than a heartbeat.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications đâ€ïž
#pedro pascal characters#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi p#javi peña#javi pena#javier peña#javier pena one shot#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javi p x reader#javier pena x y/n#javi pena x reader#javi pena x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#my writing#husband!javi#narcos fanfiction#narcos
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
fallout masterlist
cooper howard x reader
screenshots: [ghoul] | [cooper howard] | [wallpapers]
â into the fire | series | 21k | complete
âBeen a long time since Iâve had mouth as sweet as yours.â His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, âDonât make me regret it.â
(When youâre captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)
â mine, all mine | request | 4.4k
Cooper doesnât take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you donât forget who you belong to.
â yours, all yours | request | 2.3k
Cooper canât help the bark of a laugh when he realizes, disbelief woven into the sound that spills from him.
Goddamn. His little wastelander might just be jealous.
â on target | request | 1.8k
Two times the Ghoul tells you to spread your legs, and two times that you listen.
â drinkinâ in sunshine | request | 1.8k
You find yourself having to rethink your strategy, when youâre suddenly struck with feeling for the man youâre supposed to be hunting down.
â heâs a demon, heâs a devil | request | 850 words
the ghoul + cockwarming
â good rocking tonight | request | 1.5k
âYou donât know nothinâ, sweetheart.â His eyes burn into yours, âBut you can try. Go on, letâs see what you got.â | sub!cooper vibes + riding
cooper howard x lucy maclean
medieval!au | western!au
â keep a knockinâ (but you canât come in) | 1.1k | ao3
âWhat did you just say?â Itâs snarled out. Not too far from the sounds of the ghouls he just cleared.
âI said you were no Cooper-â
âNo Cooper Howard. Thatâs what I thought,â He snarls, finishing for her - voice as deadly as a bullet, âAnd what the fuck do you know about him?â
â i can dream, canât i? | one-shot | 1.4k | ao3
Lucy had grown up dreaming about Cooper Howard. Sheâs not sure why. How her mind can piece things together. Little snippets that feel real, flickering in the swirl of ordinary dreams. | soulmate!au
â donât let the stars get in your eyes | one-shot | 3.3k | ao3
Canât say he ever expected this. He hadnât been with anyone since before, those memories long tucked away. Old wounds, those faded scars still healing.
And yet here she is, pretty little Lucy MacLean, crawlinâ into his lap & practically begging him to make her come.
john hancock x reader
â whole lotta shakinâ going on | one-shot | 5.8k
Itâs a dangerous thing to have feelings for the person youâre traveling with. Too much can go wrong in an instant and yet, here they are. Steadfastly ignoring the something thatâs been building, thick enough to taste.Â
Luckily, an incoming rad storm might just be the push they need.Â
â a good, good neighbor | request | 2.8k
when you come back from a mission, Hancock canât wait to get his hands on you
â made for me | request | 1.5k
You need him. Not just tonight, but always - and Hancock is all too happy to oblige.
edward deegan x reader
â only you (and you alone) | request | 800 words
an exploration of deegan's feelings towards sole!reader
#made a proper masterlist đ#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard x reader#john hancock x reader#fallout smut#fallout series#fallout masterlist
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
apothecary diaries
vinsmoke sanji (opla) x fem!reader
âĄâyou need peppermint for a salve you're making, but sanji bought all of it, and that's seriously not fair.
word countâĄâ 3.7k
genreâĄâ fluff
content notesâĄâ opla sanji, afab!reader runs an apothecary and likes to make things, inaccurate chemistry for the sake of the story, mentions of flames in bottles, please do not do that, no use of y/n, not fully proofread
also onâĄâ ao3
author's noteâĄâ I love sanji sm he makes me cry. might be first in a series, but we'll see. please enjoy. xoxo, belle.
The third time a pirate entered your shop, you genuinely considered closing up early today.
You level him with a stare despite the man being twice your size. You cut him off before he can get a word out.
âNo, I don't have anything that works against people made of rubber.â Crossing your arms over your chest, you gesture to the rest of your wares. âNow, are you going to get anything else? Or should you be on your way?â
He leaves, disgruntled, but without a fight.
A huff escapes your lips. The nerve of these people.
Ever since that outrageous bounty for that new pirate came along, suddenly every pirate and pirate hunter in the East Blue was gearing up to chase after him. All the poisons that were gathering dust in your storage were cleared out within days of those posters showing up.
It was good berry at first, but they got more aggressive, and started demanding more of everything. More doses than you were comfortable handing out. More dangerous poisons that could kill everyone in the room if the seal loosens by even a crack.
You took up this apothecary business because you wanted to help people. It wasn't exactly your dream to become a poison dealer.
The shop bell rings again. Thankfully, this time it's one of your elderly neighbors and not a pirate seeking poison.
The old lady smiles at you, the sides of her eyes crinkling. âYou seem to be quite busy these days, dear.â
âIf only they were paying customers like you, Ma'am.â You pick up a box of loose tea from the shelf, already knowing her usual order.
She gasps in concern. âOh my, did they steal from you?â
âOnly my time.â You grimace slightly, remembering how many pirates barged in last week.
âWould you like some honey with this? We have fresh jars from today's shipment.â You offer as you tally her order.
The lady hums in agreement. âYes, I think some honey would be lovely.â
During slow days like these, you like to tinker with new recipes to sell. On a desk at the very back of the shop, obscured by thick curtains, is your beloved workstation.
You review your notes from the previous day. You'll need to get some peppermint for the healing salve you're developing. Taking a small jar of the experimental paste, you test a small amount on your hand.
Indeed, it needs more peppermint. Maybe you should use extract instead of crushed leaves next time, so that the texture is smoother.
The problem arises when your go-to herb supplier says he's run out of peppermint.
âPlease tell me you're kidding.â You groan, looking down at your sadly empty whicker basket.
âMâsorry, lass.â The vendor shrugs, not looking very sorry at all. âYou just missed the guy who bought everything. I promise I'll get you your peppermint next week, though.â
Resigned, you sigh, reading through the rest of your shopping list. The salve, at least, can wait a week as it's still a work in progress. The rest of your list, however, are crucial ingredients for your usual bestsellers.
âFancy looking lad. He asked about spices. Told him to go to the shops down by the river.â
Your stomach drops. Everything else you need are sold by those shops.
Mentally cursing that vendor, you run as fast as your feet can take you. You're not letting some tourist get the better of you when it comes to ingredients.
You reach the river in record time. You'd feel proud if you didn't feel winded. Even so, you scan the road for anyone matching the tourist's description.
There doesn't seem to be anyone remotely fancy around. Triumphant, you go on with your shopping.
You begin to feel better as you cross more things off your list. You've almost forgotten about the peppermint incident, if only you didn't suddenly smell so much of it pass by.
A tall blond man walks by, clearly doing a lot of shopping based on the boxes of supplies he's carrying. The scent of peppermint hits you again. In a paper bag, at the very top of the boxes, you spot bunches of those leaves you've been so desperate for.
You can only clench your jaw in frustration and frown at the back of his head. He purchases a large amount of meat and fish in the next stall, and you gather that he must be some sort of chef. No normal person buys so much meat that the shopkeep offers to deliver everything. But that's what happens to this fancy looking lad. He must not be normal then.
âYes, my ship's in the docks. You can't miss it, thank you so much for your help.â He smiles. His blue eyes wander the stall, then travel to the next stall over, where you are.
There's a moment of surprise when he finds you already looking at him, but his expression changes instantly into a suave one. It almost makes you want to back away, but you stand your ground when he approaches.
âArenât you stunning? I was feeling tired, but your pretty face woke me right up.â
You turn away, pointedly ignoring him. He can't flirt with you while smelling like peppermint. It's just not fair.
âSorry for the hold up, lass. What's it you need?â The shopkeep you were waiting for shows up just in time. You continue to not pay the blond beside you any attention.
âCinnamon and salt, please.â You respond. âPink, if you have any.â
âI'll have the same, good sir.â Fancy pants says. âThough, my salt doesn't need to be pink.â
As the shopkeep rummages through his supplies, the blond continues to speak to you. Why does he keep speaking to you?
âPink salt is lovely to look at, same as you,â He begins, âBut other than the color, there really isn't a difference to normal salt, isn't there?â
He shrugs, his broad shoulder shifting his suit jacket slightly. âYou're paying extra for the same result. It's all the same when you cook it.â
âI'm not using it for cooking.â Is your only response.
The shopkeep returns before the stranger can reply. âHere's the salt for you's.â He hands you a bag of pink rock salt, and the stranger a bag of regular salt.
The dread from the peppermint vendor returns when you realize the shopkeep is holding only one bag of cinnamon. He pats it and says, âI could split it so you both get half.â
âI was here first.â You insist desperately. âSell it to me.â
â...My hands are tied here, lad.â The shopkeep sells you the cinnamon, and it's quickly tucked into your basket when you get your hands on it. The stranger doesn't barter for it. Good.
And with that, you cross out cinnamon and salt from your shopping list. You were able to get everything except the peppermint, which stays neat and legible at the very top of the list.
You crumple the paper and toss it into a nearby bin before making your way back to your shop.
âAre you on your way to get some peppermint?â How did the stranger catch up with you so quickly?
âNo.â No matter how much you wish you were.
You try to walk faster, but his pace is steady even with a large box under one arm and several others tied up with twine held in his other hand.
âBut it was on your list.â He seems to be very interested in your dealings. Is he always this dedicated when he flirts?
You cross the bridge that arches over the river together. The townsfolk who recognize you and not the man next to you begin to whisper amongst themselves.
It takes everything in you to resist rolling your eyes. After a week of pirates, you suspect your shop will be full of gossiping neighbors soon.
âA certain someone bought all the best peppermint today.â Of course the scent of it wafts over you again as you say so.
âAh.â Understanding dawns on his face. âI see, I'm sorry if that inconvenienced you.â
It was your turn to shrug. You were about to say that it was okay, but then remember that you wouldn't be able to complete your salve until next week.
You pout before you can help it. âDid you really have to buy all of it?â
He breathes out a laugh. âI normally wouldn't, but my friends tend to have endless appetites. It always pays to have plenty of supplies.â
Even in the middle of the bustling street, a certain group of strangers stand out. They're gathered outside the tavern. You don't know any of them, but you recognize one of them as that infamous new pirate with the exorbitant bounty on his head.
âSpeaking of my friends...â The blond trails off, nodding towards that particular group.
You just about stop in your tracks. He's with them? He's a pirate?
Okay. A rich, flirtatious tourist you could deal with. A random pirate crew? You would probably still be fine.
But the crew with the highest bounty in all the East Blue? That's just asking for trouble to happen.
While the stranger is distracted by his friends, you slip into an inconspicuous alleyway. You'd have to go a little further around to reach your shop, but that's alright as long as you avoid those Straw Hat pirates.
Luck seems to not be on your side, though. Because fancy pants shows up to your shop later that evening.
He grins. âYou didn't tell me crossing that bridge together meant something. I would have talked about something more romantic than peppermint if I knew.â
Of course, word travels fast in a small town. You should have known someone would tell him. And that he would be able to find you easily if he wanted.
âHow does the legend go, again?â He asks teasingly. âIf two people cross the bridge together on the day they meet... Theirs souls are bound.â
âIt's a myth.â You dismiss his charming grin and try to ignore him.
He leans his elbows on the counter that separates you. He's hunched down, but still towers over you somehow.
âIt's romantic. And I'm glad it happened to us.â He smiles. âMay I at least know the name of the person my soul is now bound to? Mine's Sanji.â
âWell, Sanji. Are you going to buy something?â You ask and avoid giving him your name.
Sanji, surprisingly, nods. He grabs two cans of your special handmade tea and a large jar of honey.
âI'll buy these,â He places the items on the counter. âAnd give you this.â He holds out several sprigs of peppermint. You blink at him in surprise.
â...Thank you.â You gingerly take it, and carefully set it to the side.
You're silent while you ring up his order. It's when you're taking out a paper bag for him that you finally cave and reveal your name.
The smile that blooms on Sanji's face isn't how you expected it would be. You expected him to look arrogant, to look proud that he was able to sway you like he did other women before.
But he looks at you sweetly, dimples showing and eyes sparkling. You wordlessly hand over the paper bag.
âA pleasure, darling.â
You would have thought that would be the last time you saw Sanji. But, be it luckily or unfortunately, he finds you the next day with the rest of the Straw Hats tagging along.
Only this time, they seem to be on the run.
You hold open the door for the Straw Hats and, one after another, they flood into your shop. Sanji smiles and says something about your hair, but you can't process the words with his friends scattering to hide.
âSanji, what the fuck?â
âI know, I know, love. I'm sorry we had to reunite like this. We just need to lay low for a bit.â He reassures you, caressing your shoulders as he does.
âI'll make it up to you! I'll cook you a romantic, candlelit dinner.â
You frown at him, unimpressed.
Sanji kisses his teeth and sighs. âI'll give you the rest of the peppermint.â
You perk up instantly. âDeal. You can all hide in my workstation.â
âHi, I'm Luffy!â Their captain greets you jovially. âThat's Zoro,â Luffy points to the swordsman. âNami,â The woman. âAnd Usopp.â The one hiding under your counter.
âOf course, you know Sanji already, being soulmates and all.â
You trip on nothing, and Sanji grabs your hand to steady you. You glare. He just smiles.
âYour shop is really cool!â Luffy exclaims, looking at all the trinkets on the shelf.
âThanks.â You say dryly, pushing the curtain partition aside. You lead them to the back of the shop.
âMake yourselves at home.â You wave a hand towards the couch and some chairs around your desk. They should be fine here as long as they don't need to stay the night.
Through the gaps in the window blinds, flashlights and shadows stream into the room. There seems to be an active search party out for these guys. You suddenly can't believe you agreed to this for peppermint.
Zoro, whose three earrings glint in the light, shifts to scratch at his chest. You spot bandages from the gap in his shirt.
You grab the small jar of salve from your desk and toss it to him. He catches it, but looks from the jar to you and back, confused.
âIt's a healing salve I made. It should help soothe your skin.â You explain.
The swordsman still looks unsure, but opens the jar anyway. Zoro sniffs its contents, and tries putting a small amount on his chest.
You beam at him, unable to help feeling proud at how his shoulders visibly relax after using it.
âThanks.â Zoro says simply.
âNo problem.â You nod back, still smiling.
Luffy looks at the jar as if it's a miraculous cure-for-all. âThat's amazing.â
âIt smells really good, too.â Usopp says, sniffing at the air around Zoro.
âDo you sell that here?â Nami asks.
âI will, once I make more.â You answer. You never realized how uplifting it was to share your work with new people.
Subconsciously, you turn to Sanji. But, why is he frowning? You follow your gaze to find he's looking at the jar in Zoro's hand.
Before you can ask him if anything is wrong, Luffy bursts out excitedly, "You're a doctor! You should join our crew!"
You wince. âNo, I'm a chemist.â
âCool!â Luffy's enthusiasm does not wane. âSo you can heal, right?â
You're about to correct him before they assume things out of your pay grade when Usopp claps his hands in realization.
âShe's even better than a doctor!â Usopp insists. âShe makes the medicine that the doctors give out!â
Just as you were about to interfere with how much they were overestimating your skills, the shop bell rings. You turn to the clock. Shit, you should have locked up twenty minutes ago.
You meet everyone's eyes and they all nod, understanding that they need to be quiet. You switch off the lights in the back room for good measure.
The customer is a pirate you've never seen before. He looks angry, glaring at every possible hiding spot in your shop. Particularly the room you just came from.
You're careful to completely shut the curtain behind you.
âHow can I help you, sir?â You put on your best customer service smile. âI was just about to close the shop, but if it's urgent, I'll help you find what you need.â
The pirate grunts. He's not buying what you're selling at all.
âPerhaps some calming tea? You look like a refined gentleman who would enjoy this.â You hold up a can of tea as if that will help you seem less suspicious.
âWhat's behind the curtain?â He points behind you accusingly.
âMy work area, where I make all the fine products you see before you.â
Stomping forward, he seems to have had enough of your stalling. Fine.
Just as he's about to bash his fist down onto your counter, you grab a suspicious looking dark jar. You hold it up threateningly.
âThe hell is that?!â The pirate snarls.
âHaven't you heard? I'm the go-to poison dealer in all the East Blue.â You bluff. âA whiff of this, and you'll sink like a rock, my friend.â
He freezes, but glares at you more fiercely. You pretend to twist the lid.
âY-you'll kill yourself too, then!â He barks back. âLet's see your bullshit poison then.â
âOh, but that's what makes me so brilliant.â You grin, laying the act on thick. âI'm immune to all the poisons I make.â
Your hand settles ominously on the lid. âShall we test who survives?â
The pirate scrambles to leave. He's out before you can blink. Without missing a beat, you lock the front door and draw all window blinds down.
You rest your back against the door. Letting out a loud exhale, you almost let yourself slide down to the floor. How long do you have to deal with pirates like that?
Thoughts of yesterday with Sanji at the market fill your thoughts. If only all days could be like that, where the worst of your problems had been a peppermint shortage.
âYou guys can come out, now.â You call out to the Straw Hats.
âUh... Is that really poison?â Usopp asks, staying very far away from the jar.
You laugh, though it comes out airy due to your tiredness. âNo, those are just some herbs I left to ferment.â
âHow brilliant of you, love.â Sanji is beside you in a few strides. Him and those long legs.
âWas he the one you guys were hiding from?â You ask. The crew members shake their heads.
âNo, actually.â Nami says. âWe were hiding from a bunch ofââ
Your shop explodes.
Sanji is quick to pull you into his arms and shield you from the debris with his own body. For a minute that feels like eternity, you can't hear anything. Your ears are ringing, and dust clouds over all your years of hard work. You sob into Sanji's arms.
âNo!â You cry out.
Marines step into the shop, wood planks cracking and glass panels shattering under their feet. There are so many of them. You don't understand. Even if you hid the Straw Hats here, they shouldn't be allowed to destroy private property, right? Right?
âWe got a report of illegal poisons in the area.â The leading officer states, his face stoic. âJust our luck that we run into pirates as well.â
You look to the Straw Hats, all of them are positioned to fight, save for Sanji. He's still cradling you protectively.
Taking a shaky deep breath, you lift your hand to rest it on Sanji's arm. He instantly looks down at you, silently asking if you're alright.
You're not yet, and if you're being honest, you'd rather stay in his arms until everything is over. But you nod anyway. Sanji gently lets you go and gets ready to face your new enemies.
âGet them all.â
Chaos breaks, and you run to duck behind a shelf that toppled over. The Straw Hats put up a good fight, but there are just too many Marines. Your eyes find round bottles of herbs scattered around you, and you come up with an idea.
âGuys!â You yell. âBuy me some time!â
âAnything for you, darling.â Sanji winks at you before sending a Marine flying. You gape at his audacity. The rest of them don't even react, but you notice they rotate slightly, surrounding you to keep you from being interrupted.
Grabbing as many of the bottles as you can, you stuff them with shards of wood and more dried leaves. You take rocks from the debris and strike them together.
With a few sparks, the herbs and leaves catch fire. You act fast, throwing the bottles at the Marines.
The bottles shatter, bursting into flames once they hit their mark. The Marines panic and become disoriented, giving the Straw Hats an advantage despite being outnumbered.
Eventually, the Marines run and scatter, leaving only the few bravest of them to fight. The Straw Hats make quick work of them.
When the battle is over, you watch the dust settle over the ruins of your apothecary. It's going to take years to earn enough berry to restore how everything once was. You can't help but feel heartbroken.
Sanji sits down in the rubble next to you, wrapping you in another embrace. You let yourself fall into him.
âWe'll help you get everything back. I promise.â He swears, voice slightly muffled into your hair.
âOr, you could come with us! Join our crew!â Nami hits Luffy on the shoulder.
âWhat? It's true!â Luffy insists. âWe need someone like her!â
You pull back from Sanji's embrace to look at him. He doesn't say anything, but something tells you he wishes for you to come with them. The others look at you expectantly as well.
No one speaks to persuade you further. But when you compare this rag-tag team to your ruined apothecary, your answer suddenly feels very clear. If you're to slave away to earn the berry for rebuilding your home, why not spend that time with them?
The back of the shop is less affected, even if the sight is still dreadfully sad. Your notes are thankfully intact, and you're able to find a bag and shove some extra clothes into it. It saddens you that you're so quick to pack up your life, but you'll come back. Someday.
When you return to the others, they're all smiling. Sanji more so, but you should have expected that.
He holds out his hand, and you reach out to take it.
âI change my mind,â You jest. âI'll take that romantic candlelit dinner now.â
Sanji laughs loudly while he guides you to walk over the rubble safely. You catch some of the others laughing too, but they walk a ways ahead you and Sanji.
âLike I said,â He says with his signature grin, âAnything for you, my dear.â
Your mind must be playing tricks on you, because he still smells like peppermint. Now, that's really not fair.
© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist âĄ
#vinsmoke sanji x reader#sanji x reader#one piece live action#opla sanji x reader#opla vinsmoke sanji x reader#opla spoilers#opla x reader#opla sanji x y/n#sanji oneshot#sanji imagine#opla#togenabi-writes#sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x you
972 notes
·
View notes
Text
Subjugate the Devil (Sauron/F!Reader)
Sauron has a nightmare. You are only too happy to oblige in making him forget; or:
Sub!Sauron makes a lengthy appearance. Plot, what plot?
Set in my In The Dark series, but works as a standalone (alludes to trauma mentioned in other chapters, but it is literally just smut) // AO3 Link
Soundtrack: Disease by Lady Gaga, Don't Let Me Go by Raign, Like a Prayer by Madonna, Oh You Are Not Well by Chloe Foy
Playlist!
Warnings: 18+! Dom/sub - gentle dom, needy sub; just pure smut; literally Plot What Plot (though there is a bit if you squint); P in V sex; oral sex (male and female receiving); copious amounts of bodily fluids (sorry, like for real); cockwarming; dry humping; handjob; begging/denial/teasing; praise kink; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; unresolved trauma; tiny bit of violence but it is just an illusion; very soft!Sauron, so tender. We make him cry and that's all I wanted to do.
A/N: I've been working on this for a few days, it is ummm filthier than anything I've ever written, like I really don't know where it came from. The warnings are just what's on the menu at this point idk.
I pictured Annatar for this one, but you guys can imagine whomever you like (@troublesomesnitch he's got that chest hair though!!) Sub!Halbrand would be a treat ngl.
Excuse the gif guys, I just want to see him cry :)
Word Count: 4.2k (!!)
Sauron does not sleep. Ordinarily.
However, you make it look so peaceful, he has to try it occasionally. Of course he usually finds you in your dreams, takes all the attention you can spare and more, leaving you wanting until waking when he can ravage you again.
Sometimes however his dreams come unbidden. Instead of slipping into your mind, he falls deeper into his own, unearthing old memories he'd rather stay buried, burned beyond recognition.
You always know when this happens; your usually calm and collected lover wakes in a cold sweat, clutching at your skin, his face in your neck, desperate to forget what his mind has shown him. He has never told you the details, but you can only assume it has something to do with his master, with his cruel and unusual forms of punishment.
Tonight is one of those nights, worse perhaps as he moans and writhes in his sleep, rousing you immediately. You can't seem to wake him from his torment, every gentle touch, every kiss to his temple only seems to fan the flames. You end up atop him, each of your thighs either side of his abdomen, trying to shake him awake.
Visions of Morgoth in his wrath; illusions of you partaking in his torture at his master's hand; pain and terror in his heart, as the nightmare refuses to cease, even as you try to soothe him.
What makes you think a servant as worthless as you deserves a love like hers?
Morgoth's words hold him in a vice grip; he can't break free, the unshed tears behind his closed eyelids threaten to leak onto his cheeks, stricken with fear and pain.
"I've got you, you're okay, you're here with me." You stroke his face, your hair brushing his chest, unsure of what to do except hold him.
When his eyes finally fly open, he grasps your arms, and with a leg hooked behind you, flips you onto your back, a dagger at your throat.
You're fairly sure his weapon isn't real, but he is a master of illusion, and pain is merely a construct of the mind; he could hurt you if he wanted to.
In this state, you're reminded of just how dangerous your husband is, even between dreaming and waking. His eyes are black, unseeing, with a terrifying expression you're sure would have annihilated any enemy he could have been dreaming of.
Your hands shaking, you reach up slowly and try to take the knife; surely enough, when you clutch at it, it disappears like smoke between your fingers, so you take his hand instead, still clenched unfeeling around his shattered illusion.
You pull his hand to your chest, letting him feel your racing heart flutter against his fingers.
Slowly but surely, you bring him back to you, his daze broken but his psyche bruised and bleeding.
Your shallow breathing evens out as the light returns to his eyes, and for a moment he looks at you confused as if his position above you is of your own making.
His eyes dart from his hand on your chest, to your fiercely fixed expression, attempting to soothe his nerves but unable to hide how shaken you are.
"Is this real?" He's still breathing hard, for someone who doesn't really need to breathe. "Are you really here? Is it you?"
He's so tender, tracing your cheekbones, your cupid's bow, gently raking your hair with his fingertips.
"Of course, beloved, I'm right here, I'm always right here." You try to hide your confusion, assuming he's still walking the line between dreaming and waking.
He slowly pulls himself away to nestle at your side, reluctant to break eye contact with you as he does so, still clutching at you to ground himself.
"What did I do? Tell me I didn't hurt you, love." He's so quiet, it's unnerving, but you take him in your arms anyway, crading his head to your chest.
"All is well, my love, it wasn't real, you're here with me, no one can touch you here." Some nights, holding him close and murmuring sweet reassurances in his ear is enough to soothe him; tonight he needs a little more from you.
All you want to do is tell him you love him, that he deserves you, that you're his, that he deserves everything you want to give him, that you ache for him when he's not by your side.
But he's hard against your hip, a fact you're trying to ignore; taking advantage of him is the last thing on your mind, not that he would protest, even when he returns to his right mind.
He listens to your heartbeat for a while, focusing on the strong rhythm to forget his waking nightmare, marvelling at how your heart beats in tandem to his, running his trembling fingers across your exposed skin, up your arm, across your collarbone to your throat, watching the artery jump in time with your heart. He knows you so well, so intimately, that when you notice his erection, your heart skips a beat, and he can guess exactly what you're thinking, not needing to peer into your mind for himself.
You feel him grind against you and you release a breath you didn't even realise you'd been holding.
"Love..." You murmur into his hair, absentmindedly running your fingers over the sensitive pointed tips of his ears. "Come now, you need to rest, darling."
He can't show you what he saw, what he went through, the horror and the agony of his master's worst torments. The image of you performing the worst of it is tattooed on his eyelids, a reminder of Morgoth's favourite form of punishment. He can't show you, can't tell you, but he can ask you to make him forget.
"I need you," he whispers in your ear, strangled groans peppering his sentiments, making you gasp, "need you to feel good, need you to know how much I adore you-"
Your eyes widen as blood rushes to your cheeks, the heat of his words enflaming your core.
"I want you too, love, but right now? Are you sure?" You ask him through ragged breath as he turns his attentions to your neck, licking and sucking and blowing cool air over your wet skin, before warming it with his tongue once more.
You're so close to giving in, wanting to give him all he craves and more, and he knows it.
"Use me," his breathy moan breaks on your skin like a wave on the shore, tingles washing down your spine, filling your core with empty warmth as he bucks his hips into yours, which respond in kind as you turn your head to meet his hungry kiss.
"I'm yours. Make me yours."
His words thrill you, but his tone makes you feel incredible; needy, wanton, desperate to please you.
You glide your hands over his torso, relishing in his hot velvet skin and the soft hair that covers him; taking your time as he tries to kiss you senseless, his heated skin glowing with sweat that you can't resist tasting for yourself, salt and smoke on your tongue.
"Use me... take me... love me..." he begs you, with less and less breath left in his lungs with each command, as you gently lay him on his back, straddling his thighs, grinding your core into the hard muscle.
You slide your hands between the layers of fabric separating your skin, stripping him slowly and laying him bare for your viewing pleasure alone.
He arches his back for you, baring his neck and thrusting his hips into the ghost of your touch, chanting your name and praying for you to take his aching cock in hand.
You trace the contours of his thighs, his firm abdominal muscles, the stiff peaks of his nipples, earning you a shudder and a moan that shoots straight to your core, hot wet arousal dripping onto his thigh.
His fingers move to gather your nectar instinctively, wanting to savour every taste of his wife, but you grip his wrist and raise it above his head, and he gasps. You've never denied him before, not in the eons you've adored him, but it turns him on beyond belief.
Sauron watches you hazily, through heavily lidded eyes, in disbelief that the goddess above him is his and his alone to enjoy and to ruin. You are a sight to behold, as your hair cascades down your back, lips parted and breath ragged; your breasts bounce as you ride his thigh, hypnotising him, drawing him deeper into your thrall.
He tries to lean up to kiss you, lave every inch of your skin with his desperate tongue, but you push him back to the bed.
"Not yet, soon but not yet." You want his mouth on you, the aching between your thighs only amplified by the distinct lack of your husbandâs throbbing length inside you, but tonight is for him; he needs to surrender to you first.
"I don't think you've let go quite enough yet." Your warm breath breaks on his sensitive neck, washes down his spine, straight to his cock, throbbing in his need for you.
You haven't touched him yet, hands firmly in place on his chest; his eyes plead with you to be lenient, and as his loving wife, you're only too happy to oblige him as he continues to beg for all the care and attention you can give.
"Please, love, please, need you to-" he gasps as you run your fingers over the head of his cock, gathering the copious amounts of precum pooling on his stomach to ease the glide over his flesh.
"Is that better, love?" You can't help but smirk at his pained gasps, as you languidly stroke his shaft, circling the sensitive head with your thumb, your eyes locked on his.
His cock twitches in your hand as he moans your name, begs for release, begs for your cunt, begs to be remade.
"That's it, love, let yourself go. All you need to do is feel good for me, my love," you lean down, whispering in his ear, "please me, show me how much you deserve your release."
His breath hitches and you hear him swallow hard; his expression is a masterpiece, eyes wide, jaw slack, as he begs you to show him mercy, groaning and whimpering as you pump his length.
"Please..." It's only one syllable, but it feels like a lifetime as he chokes out his plea, tries to touch you to no avail as you hold his hands above his head, placing them in a death grip on the headboard.
"Please, what? You might need to be more specific, my darling." You edge down the bed, holding him in place as he tries to follow you, until your head rests on his thighs.
"Need you to... fuck!" He growls and curses and grips the headboard as his hips jerk and writhe to meet you.
"Need me to...? What, my sweet, tell me?" You are enjoying teasing him, perhaps a little too much, and you will pay for it later, but right now he's so deeply needy for your love and attention that he'll take whatever you bestow upon him.
"Touch me..." he groans, as his cock visibly throbs with need, "your fingers, your mouth, I don't care, I need you, you're the only one, only one who can make me feel like this..."
His pleas and whimpers cut off with a sharp gasp, as you take his cock in your mouth as deeply as you can manage. He feels the opening of your throat on his tip and loses his mind, his oversensitive flesh shooting stars up and down his spine, heat pooling in his abdomen that almost immediately spreads like wildfire throughout his body, as your fingers and tongue and lips work together like an orchestra, drawing an irresistible melody from the depths of his pitch black soul, and all the seed his cock can muster.
You pull away and let him spill himself over your thighs, your abdomen, your hands; he looks mortified but he can't stop now he's started, pearly white splattering your skin, making you his.
"I belong to you," he keens and stutters but you hear him through his orgasm, his whimpers becoming moans that reverberate through you.
You can only watch him adoringly as he finishes quaking and moaning beneath you, unable to quite believe that he is yours, even after all this time.
You sit up, licking him from your fingers, and your smile is so radiant, he forgets where he is, who he is, all the evil he has ever done. For one shining moment, it is just you and him, all he'd ever need.
"Proud of you, love, so good for me." You murmur as you lean down to kiss him softly, giving him that tiny confirmation of your affections he needs right now.
"...thank you, needed you. Ahh- Need you." He is grateful, oh so grateful, but his still-hard cock betrays him, and you can't help but grin.
"Oh love, did I not do a good enough job? Have I left you wanting?" Your faux sincerity pains him and he immediately starts apologising.
"No, no, not that, never that, always so good to me, my beautiful wife, love you so much, my sweet..." His cunt-drunk ramblings are adorable but you put a finger to his lips.
"It's okay, I know, I've got you," you smile at him; he returns it so radiantly, you have to kiss him, to be the one to destroy it.
His pretty moans flutter to your cunt, arousal dripping from you like honey from the hive, and he looks up at you, gloriously wide eyed, begging to be allowed to taste your nectar, to sate his thirst for you.
You can't help but feel absurdly powerful, a Maia fallen apart at your fingertips, never mind this Maia, this beautiful demon who vowed to never relinquish his control again. It's an honour and a privilege to see him submit to you like this, submit to himself like this, let himself just feel without exercising his need to dominate, to just let go with the one person in the world he knows he is truly free with.
"Please, my love... remake me, make me yours," His breathless plea is like no music the Valar have ever sung, his moans a spell all their own, enrapturing you even as you hold the key to his release, as you take command of the Maia who values his control of others above all else.
"I do believe, dearest, that you made quite the mess, actually, perhaps you'd be so kind?" You gesture to the cum that still drips down your thighs, sticky and uncomfortable and definitely ready to be washed from your skin.
He is only too happy to oblige.
You lie back and beckon him to you; he works his way up your body, methodically but no less desperately, licking up every drop to please you, content to savour every inch of you. When he tries to make a detour to your mound, you gently yank his hair, reminding him of his task, revelling in the absolute control he's given you.
"Oh love, you did make a mess," you moan as you stroke his hair, "so good for me, cleaning me up, such a good husband, always so good to me."
Receiving such praise is almost cruel and unusual for Sauron, who is frankly more used to giving it to you, and receiving wrath from all others. A tiny voice in his mind tells him he should be embarrassed; but what is worship if not praise? Your devotion, your care, your undivided attention; all for him, giving him that for which he yearns above all else.
He can't resist stealing a kiss, crashing his lips to yours as he cradles your face. You taste his seed on his lips, something that feels strangely forbidden, thrilling in its taboo. The aching in your core has only intensified with his efforts, and you feel it is about time he served you with his silver tongue in the way you both crave. You push his head to your cunt, with which he gladly complies, settling between your thighs, gripping your legs firmly apart to allow him to feast on you.
Before his tongue can delve into your folds, he holds back, locking his gaze on yours.
"Please? Let me taste you, let me show you how much I love you."
"Fuck, yes, love, yes," you chant his name as he finally puts his tongue to excellent use, seeking out your swollen clit, lapping at your entrance, sucking at the velvety skin of your inner thighs.
He keeps his hands in view; you haven't told him he can touch himself, and he won't break this spell now.
Like a starving man at a banquet, he indulges in you, exquisitely. Every tiny moan that escapes him vibrates over your folds, making you whimper in return; he flicks his tongue over your entrance before sliding two fingers deep inside you, hooking them and stroking that delicious sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl. He watches you the whole time, basking in the chorus of your pleasure.
You feel the heat coil in your abdomen, and you pull him away sharply; his disappointment is evident but you want him inside you when you finally claim your orgasm.
"Lay back, love, hands on the headboard." It is intoxicating, having your husband obey your every command, and as he settles into the mattress, looking up at you expectantly, you vow this won't be the last time the two of you play this game.
Sitting astride him, you feel as if he's never been so deep inside your cunt before now. You hiss a little at the intrusion but he's so familiar, every time he enters you, it feels like coming home. You grind your hips into him, capturing with your lips every whimper that forces its way past his clenched teeth. Tracing his firm chest, running your fingers through the smattering of soft hair, feeling every curve and contour slowly, languidly, while he writhes beneath your thighs, caging him inside your wet heat.
His strangled moans and gasps echo throughout your chamber; every time he reaches for you, you press a kiss to his palm and hold it above his head, until he learns to behave.
"No one could love me like you, care for me like you, knows how to take their pleasure from me like you, beautiful wife, only yours." He feels like he's losing his mind, slipping further into some deep quiet space where it's just the two of you, where nothing matters but you on his cock.
"Only you can put me back together, can sing the song my soul yearns for-" you interrupt his pretty words with your fingers in his mouth.
"Hush, my love, focus on me, only me, you don't have to speak, you don't have to beg for me unless you want to, just let it happen." You trace the shell of his ear with your tongue, savouring the tiny sighs that escape him, before nipping the pointed tip and relishing his sharp moan.
"Bound together, you and I, for all eternity... and I wouldn't have it any other way, sweet husband." You groan out between thrusts, every movement within you the sweetest form of torture.
No other thrill in the world will ever compare to this; your divine husband laid out beneath you, looking up at you with blissful wonder, eyes black with lust, golden hair mussed and tangled by your fingers, your name tumbling from his swollen lips like a prayer and a curse. Right now, you'd take either.
"Darling, please," his broken gasp spans an octave, jumping to a breathy moan as you descend on his cock once more.
"I know what you need, love," you moan as you ride him, the drag of his cock inside you fucking delicious, but the look on his face is a feast in comparison.
His eyes widen as he clutches the bedsheets, refusing to look away but requiring every iota of self-restraint to stay present with you, not to lose himself to the unearthly sensations you've introduced him to tonight.
"I've got you, just let it go, give yourself to me, beloved, let your mind empty-" you kiss him deeply and swallow the groan building in his chest.
"So proud of you, so good for me, doing so well," you let out a throaty moan as you clench your walls around him, feeling his cock throb within you.
"I know what you need..." You murmur as you lean over him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, "nothing in that head, cock wet and wanting, heart full and happy."
His ragged breath hitches as the last shred of self-control slips through his fingers. He thrusts up deep inside you, throbbing, aching to fill you, as you grab his hands and pull them to touch you finally, a precious relief to you both.
As he runs his hands up your bare skin, he kneads your soft flesh, worshipping every inch as if he's never beheld anything so perfect in his long life. His large hands encircle your abdomen, grasp your hips, pull your ass impossibly closer until you can't tell where you end and he begins; not that the distinction is important anymore.
He rests his hands on your back, fingers splayed as if to encompass you within his flesh, as if being wrapped around you, caged inside you, isn't enough contact, like the two of you enjoined in body and soul isn't enough, will never be enough to sate his hunger for you.
Finally, you let him lean up to join you, his torso flush with yours, gliding against you, slick with the sweat you've provoked in your teasing. He kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, teeth hungry, lips swollen, your breath mingling just as your souls are entwined, a maelstrom of pleasure in which you'd be happy to be imprisoned forever.
You brush back his soft hair, grip the roots, and pull his head back, bearing his throat to your greedy lips. You grind on his cock as you press harsh kisses, soft bites, to his tender flesh, laving his skin and savouring his moans under your tongue. He fucking whimpers under you, and you pull away to take him in, in all his ruined glory.
There are tears in his eyes, his lips wet and parted for your kiss; his expression is nothing like you've ever seen, so completely has he given himself to you and your pleasure.
You softly trace his throat before grasping him firmly, feeling every breath, every sob, every whimper, reverberating through you, inflaming every nerve in your body.
His Adam's apple bobs under your fingers, firm in your grip but tender in your passion. Tears spring unbidden to his eyes, falling down his glorious face and filling your heart with such love, such adoration, such utter and complete devotion, that it scares you for a moment, pushing you over the edge at last.
You clench around him, milking his sensitive cock for every last drop of seed, as you ride this new high, this indescribable feeling of power that his submission has wrought in you. You think if you could just hold onto that feeling-
"I feel it too-" his strangled moan is cut short, all the stars in the sky paling in comparison to the pleasure he feels beneath you right now.
You feel him paint your insides, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you until he is spent. Your foreheads pressed together, your limbs entangled, every breath shared in tandem; you would stay here forever. And he would gladly grant his goddess that wish, and any more that your heart desires.
You roll onto your side, limbs shaking with exertion, pulling him to join you, refusing to allow him exit from your wet heat. He huffs a small, relieved sigh, not wishing to be parted from you either.
His iron embrace never fails to comfort you, and it is especially firm tonight. Your heart swells at the thought that even after surrendering to you so entirely, so perfectly, he still needs to hold and shelter you, can't give up his role as your protector even at his most vulnerable.
"We should do that again, love." You murmur, feeling his smirk against your neck.
"Whatever you desire, my Queen," he peppers your neck with tender kisses, sensing you are close to sleep. "I am yours, you are mine-"
"And always will be." You interrupt with a sleepy smile, provoking a chuckle.
Sauron can only watch you enthralled, as you drift off, content, your limbs entwined with his, reluctant to follow you into sleep after tonight's events. Perhaps, yielding control is something he should master, he muses; after all, you did seem to be utterly delighted with the turn of events, and he is nothing if not a loving Lord, a devoted husband enthralled by his wife to distraction.
You slip into dreaming, holding onto him as if for dear life, relishing in the feeling of being so loved, so obeyed.
Your brain is empty, but your cunt is full, and your heart is happy.
#sauron x reader#annatar x reader#halbrand x reader#the rings of power#my fic#idk what to say he's a terrible muse đ
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
slasher joel masterlist
dark!Joel Miller x f!reader | AO3
moodboard by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
SUMMARY: You're stranded, and a call for help only puts you in more danger. Before long, you find yourself entangled with a troubled tow truck driver. It's not just that you crave him. You want to understand him.
đ Dark, but fun, but dark. Slasher-typical regard for realism. HEED WARNINGS. Slow to update.
Spotify Slaylist
One shots (loose fit series).
Midnight Tow (May 11, 3.6k)
Midnight Blow (Jul 11, 3.3k)
Stop playing (Friday, Oct 13, 3.8k)
Midnight snack (Oct 25, 3.4k)
3:00 Special (Feb 24, 3.5k)
Mama's boy preview
Drabbles, lore, art, and more under the cut.
Blurbs & drabbles
Sleeping photo blurb
Lore & Analysis
Fishnets POV blurb
âšSexyback drabble
Mama Slasher , Mommy issues
Daddy issues
Hopes, dreams, and M.O.
Camper messiness , personal hygiene
If he saw you with another guy
Art
Stunning portrait by @bonezone44
Sexy edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Towing company logo by @angelitaetera
Towing Logo sketch by @thesummerpetrichor
Borrowed shirt by @thesummerpetrichor
Movie poster by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Wrench edit (SNL fit), @gasolinerainbowpuddles
killer lover moodboard by puddles
night in with slasher by @iamasaddie
slasher mood board by @iamasaddie
mood board by @milla-frenchy
collage/phone screen by @iamasaddie.
âš Slasher Joel Trailer by @carminepoison
please let me know if yours isn't linked đ€.
#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#slasher!joel#slasher!joel â ïž#slasher!joel miller#serial killer!joel miller#sleazy!joel miller#degenerate!joel miller#cw dubcon#cw violence#dead dove
708 notes
·
View notes
Text
â isaâs masterlist
â” i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit! â” if you want to use any of my gifs, thatâs okay ONLY WITH credit! â” this blog is a sideblog. if you're a minor don't follow me or interact with me! â” disclaimer: all characters depicted are 18+. most of my fics have adult themes, and are therefore not suitable for minors!!! â” feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 â” happy reading! <3
links: ao3 & gifs & fic recs
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free đ”đž this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.
smut = *
â JOEL MILLER
âż SERIES
* does anyone know where the love of god goes? | farm!joel miller (ongoing)
âł crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.
* brat! (36.7k) | brat tamer!joel (finished)
âł joel is having a brat summer.
âż ONE SHOTS
* heat lightning (5k) | boss!joel miller
âł working late one friday night you help you boss joel destress.
* i wanna be your lover (15k) | 70s!pornstar!joel miller
âł miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
* wet nights (5.1k) | bfd!joel miller
âł getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarahâs birthday party might not have been so badâ not when her dad can help you clean up.
* dirty work (4k) | daddy!dom!joel
âł joelâs work has been a bitch the last few weeks, but itâs nothing you canât fix.
â LOGAN HOWLETT/WOLVERINE
âż ONE SHOTS
* moanin' & groanin' (4.9k) | lumberjack!logan
âł working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad â especially when he can teach you a thing or two.
* snapshot (8.6k) | old man!logan
âł short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.
â PETER PARKER
âż SERIES
* thick skull (40k) | mcu!college!peter parker â band AU & post!nwh (finished)
âł your band, crimson goblins, just booked its first ever gig. there was just one problem. you didn't have a guitarist.
âż ONE SHOTS
* conversation (4.1k) | college!peter parker
âł peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he's in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.
crush (1.2k) | frat!peter parker
âł you accidently learn peter parker's secret.
that was the worst christmas ever! (1.6k)
âł requested: maybe a blurb about peter freaking out on trying to find a gift for reader for christmas cause he waited until the last minute?
© shellshocklove
#making a new masterlist bc the other one broke đ#masterlist#peter parker#joel miller#logan howlett#wolverine#peter parker x reader#joel miller x reader#logan howlett x reader#peter parker smut#joel miller smut#logan howlett smut#peter parker fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#tom holland#andrew garfield#pedro pascal#hugh jackman
305 notes
·
View notes
Text
Close Enough
Summary: When you'd met the Shaws at the morgue the day before, you thought that had been the end of it and you wouldn't need to see one Shaw brother in particular again. Little did you know that Colter was about to once again ask for your help and not only would you be forced to see Russell again but things were about to change drastically for the both of you.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!FBI Special Agent!Reader
A/N: Sequel to So Close. I wanted to follow up and reveal what happened between Russell and the reader in the past but as I was writing it, this idea popped into my head in addition to that and I just had to see where it went. This was the end result lol. Hope it's okay.
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I still have not seen Tracker (besides 1x12) because I just haven't had the time for a proper binge yet so if I got some things wrong about Colter and his experience in the show, I apologize.
A little disclaimer: I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things Iâve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Basically, I made shit up.
Songs I listened to while writing: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye; Easy Loving by Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty; Sweet Dreams by Patsy Cline; Sounds of Someday by Radio Company
Warnings: sanctioned assassination; death; gun violence; graphic description of killing; violence/blood mention; mention of dead bodies; arson; implied sex; a trace amount of smut(ish?); language
Word Count: 16K+
Russell Taglist: @deangirl96 (I hope you don't mind me tagging you in this one; this is going to lead into the series that I mentioned on "So Close"); @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
Jensen Taglist:Â @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
You can also read on AO3
Your phone started to buzz and you glanced at the screen, rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh before picking up. That wasnât the normal reaction you would have to seeing Colterâs name pop up on your phone but ever since that mess back at the morgue yesterday, you had been hoping he wouldnât contact you again. At least not until his brother went back to whatever hole heâd crawled out of. But now it looked like that had been a foolâs hope, on both counts.
âYou what?â You hissed.
âWeâre about to head to this home in the Blue Ridge Mountains and go in to get Doug,â he repeated.
âIâm sorry, an incredible amount of stupid just sounded in my ear. Can you repeat that?â
âReenie got me the location and itâs solid intel.â He lowered his voice. âLook, I thought we should get law enforcement involved, alright? But thereâs aâŠvalid reason why Russ doesnât want to call them that I canât get into right now.â
âWhoops, more stupid. One more time?â
Colter groaned into the phone. âCome on, Y/N.â
âIâm serious, Colter. What the hell are either of you thinkâwait, scratch that. What the hell are you thinking? Going into a dangerous location like that without any backup? If Carlos Solano found your missing man in a safehouse, do you think he wonât be armed to the teeth? That he wonât have guards patrolling the compound that youâre walking right into? That he wonât see something like this coming? You guys are walking right into a shitstorm.â Christ, you loved the guy like a long-lost brother that you sometimes kept in touch with but if he were in front of you right now, you wouldâve delivered one good smack to the back of his head to get him thinking straight. Colter may know his way around a gun, but he wasnât someone who had formal training or combat experience like Russell did. He didnât even have your training and you wouldnât be going in there kamikaze-style like they were.
âThatâs why Iâm calling you and asking you to meet us there. Iâm not exactly calling in law enforcement but weâll have one more person to watch our backs and help us search for Doug. And who better than a special agent with the FBI?â
You sat back in your chair, shaking your head but thinking it over. This was beyond stupid and you shouldnât be encouraging it. Russellâs involvement in this idiot plan didnât surprise you; Colterâs did. He knew better. But you also knew that if he thought he had a chance to get the missing guy back home safely, he was going to take it, no matter the personal risk. If you didnât go like he asked and anything happened to him or Russell, youâd never forgive yourself.
âPlease?âÂ
You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, your decision made. âSend me the location and Iâll leave now to meet you.â
âThank you.â You could hear the genuine gratitude in his tone. âI promise Iâll explain everything.â
âYou better,â you nearly growled before disconnecting the call. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to tell you but for his sake, you hoped it wasnât anything close to what you were thinking. But why else would Russell not want to call law enforcement for help in rescuing his friend who had been taken hostage by a foreign criminal? God, you hoped you were wrong.
You let out another loud sigh and before you could stand, your phone started ringing again. When you glanced at the screen, instead of a name, you saw âBlockedâ. Not good.
You swiped green, holding it to your ear. âY/L/N.â
âWe have a problem,â said the voice on the other end, one you knew all too well, and it didn't sound happy. Shit.
You watched as Colterâs truck pulled up alongside your car. Colter got out and noticed you leaning against your trunk, arms crossed and a scowl in place. Russell came around from the other side.Â
âEither of you boys see two suicidal idiots around here? Oh, wait.â
Russellâs jaw tightened. âIt wasnât my idea to call you.â He slid a glare over to his brother.Â
âYouâre lucky he did,â you snapped. âAnd since Iâm here,â You got to your feet and turned to open your trunk, revealing a smorgasbord of gear and weapons. âWeâre going to be doing this my way.â You held out a bulletproof vest to Colter first and he immediately started to strap it on. You held one out to Russell but he shook his head and didnât take it. You glanced over to find he had already put his own on while youâd been grabbing one for his brother.
âOkay, look,â Russell started, his eyes scanning your makeshift armory and setting your teeth on edge. âThis isnât some FBI raid of some drug gang. This guy, Carlos Solano, heâs the real deal. Heâs as dangerous as they come.â
You could feel your irritation turning into anger at the suggestion that you didnât know how serious this was, and from him of all people. âAnd what am I? Some part-time mall security guard? A receptionist at the Academy? Iâve dealt with cartels before and theyâre as dangerous as they come, too. So take that mansplaining and shove it right up where the sun doesn't shine.â
Russell took a step closer and laid a hand on your shoulder, his eyes burning into you. âBe pissed at me all you want but I donât want you getting hurt.â
âBut youâre okay with your brother getting hurt?â You briefly glanced in Colterâs direction. The younger man was watching you two carefully as he adjusted his vest one last time, wisely choosing to stay out of this one.Â
Russellâs jaw clenched and he dropped his hand. âIâve got him.â
You snorted and grabbed a gun, loading it quickly. âAnd Iâve got both of you. Now, weâve got a bit of a hike so letâs cut the chit chat and get this over with, shall we?â You motioned for Colter to turn around and you inserted an extra handgun into the back of his belt. âWe stick together as a unit. You hear me? No wandering off alone.â
Colter faced you again. âYes, Mom,â he teased.
You swatted at his shoulder before checking the fit of his vest, nodding in approval.
âI have done this before, you know.â
You knew that already. Youâd been there with him a couple of times for such instances. âGood for you,â you quipped. âBut for kicks, how about you just humor me?â
He rolled his eyes and you smirked, turning to slam the trunk shut. You glanced up to find Russell watching you, his jaw still tight but his eyes containing a familiar light that you hadnât seen in a while. âYou good?â
âYep.â And just like that, the light hollowed out, replaced by something far colder yet familiar, but not because youâd seen it in his gaze. Youâd seen it often enough in your own when looking into the mirror.Â
Pushing that thought away and shifting focus, you began to lead the way into the trees. âAlright, letâs do this and get Doug home in time for breakfast.â Colter flanked you on your right while Russell came up on your left.Â
âLetâs rock and roll,â he agreed.Â
It hadnât been as bad as youâd been expecting, even after youâd received the intel Colter had referred to on the phone. One guard and three henchmen. You were annoyed and almost insulted that they had presented so little a challenge considering Carlos Solano was supposed to be this big bad criminal. But when you glanced over and saw Colter looking over Russellâs bloody jacket sleeve, you regretted the thought and gratitude immediately filled you that things hadnât been worse. Russell had taken a bullet to the arm and thankfully, it had passed right through.Â
Before you could shoot the bastard that shot him, Colter and Russell were on it. You watched in awe as the brothers moved as a single unit, almost as if they hadnât been strained or missed a beat over the years. You supposed you should be happy that they were working together rather than still arguing over shit from a lifetime ago that had torn their family apart. For Colterâs sake at least.
Just then, you heard what sounded like a small plane outside. You hurried to a window and glanced outside, seeing a rapidly descending charter plane aiming for the tiny landing strip in the back of the property. Right on time.
You let the curtain fall and looked back at the guys. âTime to go.â
Dougâs face was ashen while Colter and Russell exchanged glances. Immediately, Russell picked up his gun and got ready to leave the room.
You rushed to stop him. âThere will be none of that!âÂ
âYou guys get Doug back to the truck. Iâll handle this.â
You practically jogged around him, planting yourself in his path. âNot happening.â
He glared down at you. âY/N, I need to close this up. Move.â
You scowled right back. âYouâve been shot.â
âIâm fine.â
âNo, youâre not.â
âI have to finish this.â
You refused to budge. âYou are not finishing anything. Youâre getting the hell out of here, thatâs what youâre doing.âÂ
âY/Nââ
âGuys, not the time,â Colter interceded. âHeâs getting off that plane any second now, so whatâs the plan?â
âSheâs right, man,â Doug added, making both of your gazes snap over at him. âWe really need to go.â
Voices suddenly sounded outside and you all glanced towards the window.
âShit,â you muttered, quickly checking the chamber on your gun. As you were about to head out of the room, a hand grasped gently under your chin and forced your eyes to meet Russellâs. You could see the pleading there but also a stone-cold resignation. âGo with Colter and Doug,â he urged, giving you a brief but strained smile. âI need you to go.â You felt the rough skin of his thumb on your cheek as he moved it tenderly back and forth.
You knew what he was really telling you, what he planned to do, but hell if you werenât more infuriated with him. You were so sick of the self-sacrificial bullshit. Hadnât it cost you enough? Cost you both?
You pulled away from him, giving him a glare. âI donât think you understand,â you said in a tone so cold you were pretty sure you could give the winds in Antarctica a run for their money. âIâm taking Solano in and I am not leaving until I have my suspect alive and in custody.â Russell looked pissed but you couldnât care less. Better than him being dead in the next two minutes.
You turned to face Colter and Doug so they also got the message. âThis case is under Federal jurisdiction now.â Colter glanced between you and his brother who you turned back to face. âIâm bringing him in. Got it?â
Russell went to say something but didnât get the chance. The sounds of gunfire erupted right outside the room and you all had to duck for cover.Â
You secured your handcuffs around Carlos Solanoâs wrists that had been forced behind his back once you shoved him into the chair in the room, purposely tightening the metal bracelets past the point of comfort. The man reacted, cursing you out as you smirked up at him.Â
Getting to your feet, you focused on the Shaws and Doug. Russell watched you with a glare while Colter waited for you to speak. Doug looked downright terrified. They had helped you to take down Solanoâs men who had flown with him â all three of them. Russell aimed for Solano but at the last second, you got in his way and tackled the criminal to the ground. Needless to say, he wasnât happy with you. Oh well. The feeling was mutual.
Colter placed his hands on his hips. âAlright, so how are we getting him back to the truck? Are we just going to drag him through the woods and hope we donât come across anybody else he might have coming here? How are we going to work this?â
You slipped your gun back into your holster. âHe doesnât have anyone else coming here and the plan is that you three are going to head back to the truck and get out of here. Iâm going to wait for a pickup,â You gestured towards the window with your thumb where the landing strip could be seen. âTheyâre nearby, waiting for my call, and they wonât take long to get here.â You shook your phone in your hand, indicating you were going to be using it.
Russell glanced around, as if expecting Agents to start popping up out of the woodworks at any second, before his eyes settled back on you. âSo you called this in after all?â
You shrugged. âYou were going into a fully armed compound to rescue a hostage, a two-man team against a crime lord on the FBIâs Most Wanted list? Yeah, of course, I did.â
He shook his head, chuckling and muttering a curse under his breath. âOf course you did,â he echoed, shooting a look over at his brother.Â
Colterâs gaze flickered back to you. âWeâll wait with you until they get here.â
You offered up a small smile. âI appreciate it but not necessary. Iâve got this until they get here and I do the handover.â
âButââ
âLook, you should get Doug out of here.â You inclined your head in the direction of the man who was staring dazedly at the floor. âYou need to get him checked out and your brother should get his arm looked at.â
âIâm fine,â Russell interjected.
You ignored him. âIâll be alright, Colter. Believe it or not, you tend to get experience with this kind of thing once or twice before becoming a Special Agent.â You meant it as a light-hearted reassurance but you could tell that both Shaw brothers were going to be a hard sell. At least Colterâs reasoning was up front and above board.
âIâm sure but I donât feel comfortable leaving you alone. Not with him.â Colter gestured towards Solano who spit in his direction.
âI wonât be for long. But you guys need to get out of here. The Bureau canât know you were involved in this.â You shot him a meaningful look. âFor multiple reasons.â
The younger man looked as if he was going to protest again when you held up a hand. âColter. You may not like it but you need to do as Iâm telling you. If the Bureau finds any of you hereâŠâ You could tell that he didnât care so much about himself but you let your eyes briefly flick in Russellâs direction, who was busy glaring at the man you had bound to the chair. You saw Colterâs expression immediately change and you knew you had succeeded in convincing him to vacate the area as soon as possible.
He nodded his head in assent. âOkay.â He laid a hand on Dougâs shoulder, prompting the man to look up at him, and urged him to start moving to the door.
âOkay? What do you mean okay?â Russell huffed.
Colter held up a hand. âRussellââ
âNo.â Russell turned a glare on you. âNot okay. Heâs a loose end that needs tying up. He knows who we are now, he came after Doug, and the FBI isnât going to do shit with him.â You narrowed your eyes in a glare but he continued. âThatâs not an insult. Itâs the truth and you know it. Theyâre going to what? Get him to talk, to roll over on someone else he has connections to whoâs higher up their food chain, and he gets off scot free? No, not happening on my watch.âÂ
He took a step forward and so did you, in front of Solano. You drew your gun but held it loosely across your waist, your finger on the trigger, ready and waiting should you need it. Russell stopped cold, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the weapon in your hand. Colter and Doug were frozen, watching the scene unfold.
âI told you,â you said in the most deadly serious tone you could muster. âIâm taking him in, alive. If you have a problem with that, wellâŠâ You flipped the safety on the gun off. âYouâll have to go through me. And I promise you, my aim is a hell of a lot more accurate at close range than itâs ever been.â
Russell didnât blink, he just kept scowling at you.
âRuss?â Colter called.
âDonât make me kill you in front of him, Russell,â you murmured so only the two of you would hear. You were serious as a heart attack. No matter how you had felt about him once upon a time, this was important enough for you to make good on your threat if you needed to.
âYou wouldnât.â
âI would and it will be justified by the higher ups as protection of a high-valued target before your body goes cold.â You hated saying the words but it was nothing but the truth that you spoke. You hoped he heard the message underneath your words: walk away, this isnât worth dying over. âAnd heâll be further traumatized,â you inclined your head in Colterâs direction. âLosing his brother right in front of him, just like he lost his dad.â You knew that was a severely low blow but he also needed to hear you.Â
As expected, Russellâs jaw clenched and you saw a twitch in the good arm he had, the one that was holding his gun. âDonât be stupid and do that to him,â you warned. âWalk away.â
That cold look was back in his eyes again. You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to go down. You had hoped he wouldnât force your hand but then again, Russell Shaw had always been the epitome of stubborn, usually to his own detrimentâŠand yours.  Â
âRussell?â Colter tried again.
âRuss, come on, man. Let it be for now,â Doug added in, trying to help. âAnd letâs regroup.â
This time, Russell appeared to hear them both, his gaze breaking from yours momentarily, flickering over Solano behind you, who was laughing and smirking in the formerâs direction, clearly enjoying the standoff over him.Â
Russellâs eyes met yours again but this time, there was nothing familiar about the green you used to stare into when heâd sway with you on the dance floor to a slow song playing overhead or when youâd both wear matching sated grins and laugh, a pleasant exhaustion overtaking you as he pulled you into his arms in a motel bed. It was almost like staring into a dark void and you couldnât help but wonder how often that void showed up during war or if the war created it â the old chicken or the egg question. Either way, you knew youâd succeeded in convincing him to leave, but youâd also have to watch yourself. There was no warmth left in those jade-colored orbs when they focused on you. Youâd done your work well; youâd crossed a line that you could never go back from.
âAlright,â he capitulated, loud enough that the two men near the doorway heard him. He relaxed his arm and slipped his gun into a pocket in his vest. His face lightened a little and a strained smile worked its way across his face. He glanced back at his brother. âSheâs right. We should get Doug out of here.â He turned back to face you, his smile fading. âSheâs got this.â He then glanced in Solanoâs direction, smirking right back. âIâll see you soon,â he promised, giving him a finger gun and winking, before his expression became stone once more and he walked away, glaring at you as he did.
You lifted your chin, not reacting in the slightest, until Solano shouted out, âYouâll be seeing me? No, puta, Iâll be seeing you. Youâll never see it coming, you hear me? Youâll never see it coââ You spun a few degrees and pistol-whipped him, causing the jackass to cry out in pain before you turned back to face Doug and the two most important men in your life. âGet going,â you growled out, lifting your phone with your other hand as a subtle threat.
Colter gave you a nod, the concern still there in his dark brown gaze as he led Doug out the door. Russellâs eyes never left you, even when he walked out the door a moment later, following his little brotherâs lead. You never looked away even when he was past the threshold.Â
You ignored Solanoâs yelling threats and kept your eyes on the spot you had last seen the Shaws disappear through a few minutes longer than needed, tense and ready in case Russell decided to double back. Though you highly doubted heâd come at you from the same angle. A part of you was making sure you stayed prepared in case there was an ambush, yes, but another part of you knew your gaze was lingering on the spot because you knew things had now drastically changed between you and Russell forever. He would never forgive your threats and you would never forgive yourself for having to make them. Though that remorse was more related to Colter than his brother. Regardless, when it came to the Shaws now, you were fucked. Not even Dory would want to hear from you, not that she had all that much before, but now it was definitely a no go. And that saddened you tremendously.
Hearing more of Solanoâs threats, you recentered your focus on the task at hand and prepared to wait, giving him one more pistol whip for good measure, before you settled in and kept both eyes and ears open for any possible ambush that might come your way before you could finish up here.Â
You leaned against the workstation next to the chair, waiting, gun still in hand and your eyes focused on it. You had waited a certain amount of time to allow the boys to get out of the area.
âThe soldado was right, you know. Theyâre not going to hold me,â Solano bragged.
You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance. He had been talking ever since you were left alone with him. He had offered you money to let him go, offered you riches and power that you knew for a fact he had no business offering. He even had the nerve to propose making you one of his new lieutenants, citing your fighting skills and gun handling that heâd briefly witnessed. He knew you would be able to protect him because you had from the asesinos who had killed his brother. He then changed tactics, threatening you, your loved ones, the men who just leftâŠnow, he was boasting about how he would walk free and whatever charges were thrown at him wouldnât stick. You just wished he would shut the hell up already. Needless to say, it had been a long twenty minutes. You now understood why his brother had been the businessman and he was only the muscle willing to do the dirty work. His bargaining skills were for shit, not that it mattered in the scheme of things. No deals were being made today.
âI offer them a little bit of money and theyâll just make the case go away. Just like that.â
You checked your watch. Twenty two minutes now. That was good enough. You slowly got to your feet and moved past him to look out the window. You had purposely moved his chair out of the sight of the glass, in case Russell got any ideas.
âThatâs how it works here in America. Everybody knows that. If the criminals have money and power, they donât stay in jail.â
You ignored him, glancing around to see if there was any movement outside. You didnât see any.Â
âThey wonât keep me locked up. They werenât able to in my home country. What makes you think theyâll be able to here? Where corruption is ripe and anyone can be bought? And then Iâll be coming for you and for your friends. You will wish for death long before I am through with you.â
You made your way to another window, lifting the curtain and looking around. Still nothing.
âThereâs no point in bringing me to jail. It will never hold me.â
You lowered the curtain and squared your shoulders, turning to face his direction. You focused on him, staring right into his eyes. âYou know, I think youâre right.â
Solano seemed pleasantly surprised for a moment, thinking you were finally stupid enough to take one of his offers, before his eyes narrowed with realization. âNo, waitââ
You quickly lifted your gun and squeezed off a round. His head snapped back from the force and the space behind him was spattered with red among other things. One glance confirmed your aim had been accurate; he was dead. Right through the eye. What youâd said to Russell earlier hadnât been an exaggeration; you were much more accurate at close range than youâd ever been.
You slipped a pair of gloves on that you pulled from your pants pocket and immediately started unzipping the small compartments on the side of your vest where you usually kept extra ammo in a raid, pulling out small white bottles that werenât sporting any labels. You began to squirt the liquid from inside them all around the room, dousing Solanoâs body with a healthy amount.
You continued into the house, having quite a few bottles of lighter fluid to empty out in specific areas that would help achieve your goal. Arson wasnât your preferred route but it did get rid of pesky little things like hair and DNA, and what it didnât, it contaminated which would make it harder for not only law enforcement but the justice system to work with. Though you werenât too worried about either looking at this particular house fire too closely.
You didnât bother collecting any bullet casings, knowing that your gun and the ones youâd given Colter to use would be untraceable even if they somehow managed to get a hold of any of the weapons (which they wouldnât). And Russellâs gunâŠyou figured he had that handled. The only thing you did collect were your handcuffs.Â
You also didnât bother staging anything for the scene. There was already enough evidence that pointed to the theory that Solanoâs own men had turned on him and a gunfight ensued, resulting in the multiple dead bodies. While an arson specialist would most likely be able to tell that an accelerant had been used, there was no way for them to confirm just who had been present for this battle and who had gotten away. Satellite imagery would be shoddy at best due to the foliage cover (and eventual smoke) but still, you planned to set the fire and make your getaway out the back, crossing over the landing strip so if they went back to look for any heat signatures after the fire started, it would be one person leaving the scene alive, the person they would assume had started the blaze. There were no nearby neighbors to immediately call first responders but that didnât mean smoke wouldnât be seen from the sky from miles away or that a fiery orange blaze in the distance wouldnât be noticed by residents of another vacation home or cars traveling the backroads in the area. Since you planned to go into the deep woods and take the long roundabout route back to your car, you werenât too worried about your path being followed.
Once you had completed all of your tasks, you used the fireplace to help, moving the grate out of the way, starting a fire, and then knocking a fiery log onto the wooden flooring. You used a lighter to set flammable materials that you could find to add to the flames. Only when the room was nearly engulfed did you finally slip a beanie from your pocket, cover your head fully, and make your way out of the house. Once at the landing strip, you ducked under the plane, making sure you couldnât be seen from above.Â
You watched as the flames consumed the house. Once the smoke was sufficient, flames were ragings out of the windows, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard, you knew it was time for you to vacate the vicinity before the sirens started up. It was fortunate that most people were asleep at this hour but the sun was due to come up not too long from now and you had a long trek ahead of you, so you needed to get moving.
You kept your head down and made your way into the woods surrounding the property line.Â
The sun was breaching the horizon and quickly warming the sky by the time you made it back to your car. You were relieved that Colterâs truck was gone and you needed to quickly make tracks as well. Sirens had started up an hour ago and you needed to get the hell out of Dodge before the cops were all over these roads. You tossed your weapons and vest into the trunk and got in the car. You slipped your beanie off your head, tossing it onto the seat next to you, and started the engine.
Just as you had expected, cops were everywhere but thankfully, you had timed it just right and gotten out before they could block all of the mountain roads. Once you were back in town a few hours later and a certain distance away, you pulled a phone out of your glove compartment you kept there for emergencies and turned it on. You pressed a button and it immediately dialed the number programmed â the only number you had saved on this device.Â
It rang once before the same voice from yesterday picked up. âIs it done?â
âWeâre clear,â you confirmed. âItâs been handled.â
âShaw?â
Your jaw clenched. You knew that despite how you and Russell had left things earlier, you would do whatever it took to keep him breathing. âHeâs a soldier. He follows orders.â
âHe wasnât so willing to follow orders in this situation.â
âYou know what theyâre taught. Leave no man behind. He got his man so heâll be fine. Things can go back to how they were. Heâs not going to be an issue and heâs clean, just like you wanted.â
And then you were asked the one question you didnât want to hear. âAnd the brother? Whatâs your assessment?â
The knuckles of your free hand gripped your steering wheel so tightly that you could see how white your skin turned from the pressure. âNon-issue. He has no interest in you.â
âHe seemed interested yesterday.â
You forced yourself to remain calm and nonchalant. âHeâs paid to be nosy when someone goes missing so he can get them found. He found who he was looking for, he was able to keep the promise to the guyâs wife â itâs over for him. The case is closed, itâs as simple as that for him. Heâs no threat.â
You waited to hear a response, holding your breath and your hand gripping the wheel even tighter, your body tensed. This would be what decided your fate. Either you would be allowed to go on as before or youâd be going on a mission up against one of the top private security contractor firms in the world which wouldnât end well for you. But youâd take out whoever you could with you before you were killed.
Another moment passed before the voice replied, âUnderstood.â
Your body relaxed slightly and your shoulders sunk in relief. Colter was safe. Russell was safeâŠfor now. And you didnât have to go all Rambo Kamikaze on anyone. Win-win all around.
âIâll let the higher ups know the situation has been contained. Good work. Weâll be in touch.â
Without waiting for a response from you, the call disconnected. You quickly shut the phone off and tossed it back into its original spot. You let out a deep breath and the exhaustion from the past twelve hours immediately overtook your body. Deciding that returning to your place was not an option for you right now, you headed to another part of town, parked your car on the street some blocks away to the nearest motel, and using a baseball cap to cover your hair along with sunglasses, you hoofed it and then booked a room, paying cash and using a fake name. Once you set up everything you needed to in your quarters, you slipped onto the mattress and got some much needed rest, keeping your gun under your pillow within reach should you need it.
You pulled up to Colterâs trailer, watching as he stepped outside to greet you. You put your car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. You offered Colter a small smile. âHey.â
He returned it. âHey.â
You had been surprised when Colter called you a few days later to let you know he was still in town for a bit and invited you to drop by for a beer. Not surprised that he was still around (you already knew that) but surprised that he even wanted to speak to you. Perhaps Russell hadnât told him what youâd threatened back in the mountains.
You took the beer he offered to you and followed him over to the firepit, taking a seat on one of the coolers. He sat nearby and held up his bottle in a toast. You mirrored him and then you both took a sip. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as the carbonated beverage slid down your throat. You enjoyed the taste and checked the label. âMmm, home brewâŠnot bad. You got something you want to tell me? Planning on opening some sort of brewery outfit anytime soon?â You were teasing but if Colter really was thinking of doing something else â anything else â instead of his current job, youâd fully support it.
âNot me.â Disappointment flared in your chest, your hope dashed. âRuss was actually the one who made it. I had some left over from the other night.â
The beer suddenly began to sour in your stomach. Well, you supposed it was good that Russell was starting to think of the future, the most important part of that being that there would be one. It still burned a bit, though.
You decided to change the subject so you wouldnât have to think about that right then. âSo, your guy is back home safe?â
Colter nodded. âDropped him off myself.â Something else you already knew but you had to keep up appearances.
You nodded, biting your lip and staring into the flames. âAnd your brother?â
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Colterâs jaw tense for a moment. âGone.â Though you had an idea that was the case, Colterâs confirmation still stung, like someone poking a finger into an old wound after ripping the scar tissue away. But what else had you expected? This was Russell Shaw you two were talking about after all.
You snorted and shook your head, taking another swig of beer. âOf course he is.â
He turned to look at you. âYou know, you never told me what happened between you two.â
You shrugged a shoulder. âNot worth going into, trust me.â
Thankfully, Colter left it alone and he rolled with it when you brought up a different topic instead.Â
âSo, how much longer are you here for?â
âTeddi and Velma are working on that right now actually. Hopefully, something pops up soon.â He took another sip of beer, turning to gaze at the flames as well.
âIt will.â Fortunately for him and sadly for others, someone would always go missing.
âHow about you? Are they sending you somewhere for a new case or are they going to let you stay local for a bit? If itâs the latter, maybe you could get a dog for that place of yours?â
You smirked and ran your thumb down the smooth glass of the brown bottle in your hand. Colter kept teasing you about the residence you maintained nearby considering you were never really there most of the time. Heâd then extoll the virtues of living on the open road, not having roots put down anywhere that would grow into expectations, and the unrestrained thrill of it all. The first time youâd had that conversation, you knew then that the desire to keep moving and stay unburdened must be a male Shaw thing. Dory seemed happy where she had settled and you â you wanted a home base. Some place you could come back to where you were still able to connect to yourself again, no matter how lost at sea you might be at times, no matter how much you felt as if every single piece of you was floating away on the wind until only a monster was left standing there, staring back at you in the rearview mirror of your car.
âRight now, I have a few things I need to close up,â you lied. âThen Iâll probably get sent out in the field again to work some cases.â You hated lying to him but you had no choice. His safety came first. As much as you had hated Russell for a time, you could now appreciate the difficult position he was in. Though, he had chosen to be put there, and now, so had you.Â
You watched Colter nod, accepting your answer. âI still think a German Shepherd would be a great choice for you,â he teased. âYou know, a big dog, trainable, would make a good guard dog. You could take it with you, chase suspects down together...â
âOh yeah, I could see it now,â you played along. âIâd have to sneak him into hotel rooms, make sure he doesnât take a shit on the rug⊠Then weâd go on the job and I could introduce him to everyone, âIâm Special Agent Y/L/N but you can call me Turner and this is my partner Hooch.ââ
Colter winced. âNo, no. You have to give him a name that will strike fear into the hearts of the criminals you track down. Like General or Commando or Killer. Killer! Now thatâs a good name. That will make anyone think twice about running from a dog with that name.â
This time, you were the one who winced though you hid it well. Instead, you forced out a laugh. âI am not getting a huge dog named Killer and bringing him to work with me.â
He grinned. âThatâs a shame. I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when the dog would sit in the front seat.â
âThere would be no front seat sitting. Back seat only.â
âLike a criminal who he just helped you to arrest? Thatâs cold, even for you.â
âI am so glad that you have this imaginary dog of mineâs back.â
He snickered and took a drink, looking back at the flames. Your smile slowly faded as you did the same. You both sat there, drinking in a companionable silence for a bit.
Eventually, your eyes flickered over towards him. âI need you to promise me something.â
His brows drew together questioningly when he met your gaze.
âHorizonâŠâ You noticed him tense slightly at the mention. âNo more.â When you saw the confusion in his expression, you elaborated. âNo more digging, no more Reenie asking her contacts about them, no more mention of them period. You got the guy you were looking for. Now, put it to bed and forget that you ever knew they existed.â
His confusion increased. âI did put it to bed the second I dropped Doug off at his door and saw him hug his wife.â
You gave him a look. âCol, I need you to promise me,â you softly entreated.Â
His brows arched slightly at the use of the nickname; you didnât use it often and if you were, then he knew you meant business. He also knew what you were telling him without explicitly saying it; Horizon was dangerous and they were better left alone. It would be better for him to get a case of sudden amnesia about anything related to the organization.
He watched you for a moment before giving you a nod. âAs long as nobody else goes missing like Doug did and as long as Russ is okay, theyâre forgotten.â
You knew that was the best you were going to get from him and you leaned forward slightly. âAnd if anything happens to Russ, Iâll be right there with you, knocking on their front door,â you promised. And you would be; no question about it.
The corner of his lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile and after a moment, you couldnât help but return it.Â
The coffee shop you were in was decently quiet considering it was around 8:55 in the morning and most people were making their last minute dashes for caffeine before the working day began. You sat near the window, facing the entrance so you could keep an eye on who came in and out. You had ordered your usual, a soy vanilla latte, and you carefully sipped at the hot liquid. You scanned your phone for the dayâs headlines, looking for any updates on the mysterious house fire that started in the mountains a few nights ago. Â
You knew you wouldnât find any and sure enough, you didnât. Someone was working overtime to squash the case from up above, just like you knew they would. You also knew that some local law enforcement officials didnât buy the criminals-turning-on-their-boss theory and they actually thought the scene looked like a professional hit. Exactly what you figured would happen when accelerants had been found to be used at the scene. As much as you were sure the cops were looking to sink their teeth into something exciting to happen in those parts in however long, the bottom line was the case would get dropped and no one was going to care what happened to a violent criminal like Carlos Solano. The FBI would actually be relieved to remove one more name from their list, one more file from their desks. One more dangerous bad guy removed from the world that threatened American citizens as well as national security. No one was going to miss the murderous bastard.
You powered down your screen and placed your phone on the table, turning to glance out the window. That was when you saw him. Well, the reflection of him.Â
You watched as he walked towards you, still dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and old boots, wearing another t-shirt with a different musician on it while sporting an open button-up over it, and donning that old military style jacket. His eyes were intent on you and you had to wonder how he had gotten in without you seeing him. The answer was in the reflection of someone walking past him to get to the bathrooms in the rear of the cafe. There was no exit located near there, you knew that because this was a local spot of yours, so how did he⊠Shit.
Even though you watched him in the glass and he watched you back, you didnât give anything away to alert him that you knew he was there. You started calculating in your head how many people stood in between you and the front door (your only exit at this point), how much force you would have to use to catch him off guard and knock him to the ground so you could make your escape, and how fast you would have to run to your car. You even had a moment to debate drawing your gun and your badge, and making a scene to get yourself out of this mess. But all of that proved to be for naught when he came to a stop near you and announced his presence by asking, âThis seat taken?â
You slowly turned to face him, arching an inquisitive brow, but you eventually shook your head. His lips twitched into the beginning of a smirk and he took the seat across from you. His eyes were a lot lighter than they were the other day as they took you in. âLooking good, Y/N. Like always.â
Your eyes narrowed. âReally?â
He shrugged and reached for your coffee, taking the lid off. You hated it when he did this, the whole sharing coffee thing; now you would need to order another oneâŠwell, depending on how this impromptu meeting went. âWhat, I canât tell my girl that she looks good?â He took a sip and made a face. âHow do you still drink this crap? It tastes like foam mixed with shit.â
âAnd free garbage coffee from the lobby of the latest scuzzy motel youâre staying in doesnât?â
âHey, donât knock it. They have real nice machines now and it tastes the way coffee should. Not like this bullshit.â
You watched as he grabbed a spoon, added some sugar, and began stirring the crap out of what had once been your perfect latte. You thought over what heâd said before. âIâm not your girl, Russell.â His eyes met yours. âI havenât been for some time now.â
He finished stirring and removed the spoon, lifting the glass to take a sip. âYouâll always be my girl.â
You snorted and lifted a finger in the air to signal to the barista that you wanted another coffee. The kid gave you a nod and turned to make it. âIs that what you tell yourself when youâre hooking up with cheerleaders-turned-dental-hygienists in hot tubs?â
Russell pressed his lips together and looked appropriately chastised, not even bothering to deny it. âColter told you. I shouldâve known he would mention it. You two were always close like that.â  Â
You didnât confirm or deny that. There was no point in mentioning that Colter hadnât been the one to tell you, not intentionally anyway. Instead, you leaned forward in your chair. âWhat do you want, Russell?â
âI wanted to talk to you.â
âAbout what?â You snapped. You had been on edge, thinking he was here to either kill you or threaten you. Then him hitting on you and making that asinine and incredibly presumptuous statement bothered you more than you cared to admit. Not to mention he pissed you off when he took the latte youâd decided to treat yourself with after a few difficult days (without even asking you might add), knowing how that had irked you anytime he did it when you were dating. It was like the man was begging you to put a foot in his ass.
Russell glanced around briefly before removing something from inside his jacket. It was a folded up newspaper and he slapped it down in front of you. A picture of a burnt out structure stared back up at you with the headline reading above it âHouse Fire Claims 8 Lives, Sheriff Confirms Arsonâ. Your eyes met his and in that moment, you knew that he knew.
You refused to give it away just like that, though. If he wanted the truth, heâd have to work for it. He wasnât getting anything for free, not from you, not anymore. You gave him a smirk. âIs this your way of telling me that youâve finally learned to read, Russ? Iâm impressed, really.â
Instead of being insulted, his eyes widened slightly. âYou called me Russ.â
You sat back in your chair, pushing the newspaper away from you and prying eyes, waiting for the barista making his way over to you to deliver your coffee. âSlip of the tongue. Wonât happen again.â You smiled at the young kid in thanks when he placed the drink down in front of you and promptly slid your glass out of Russellâs reach. He saw it and immediately worked to smother a smile as the kid walked away.
âSo, you got any more interesting tricks I should know about?â
Without any preamble, Russell said, âSolanoâs dead,â the exact second you took a sip of your new coffee. If he was expecting any reaction to the news, he was in for disappointment when you didnât give it.
âYes, I heard. Quite unfortunate.â
âTheyâre all dead actually. Even that guard we subdued in the beginning.â
You remembered; youâd been the one to kill him after all. Once Russell and Colter got to their feet after knocking the guard out and started moving towards the house, you quietly pulled a knife and slipped the blade into the side of the manâs head. Youâd cut his zip ties, removed them and the gag, and then caught up to the guys â all within seconds. You had made sure to move the guardâs body inside later, right before youâd started the fire, trying your best to get rid of any drag marks youâd left on the ground. You were there to clean up the mess, not leave witnesses, even if they had never seen any of you coming.
You nodded. âI know, I heard that, too. Is there a point here somewhere or can I get back to the nice morning I was having before you showed up to steal my coffee?â
Russell was the one to lean forward this time, lowering his voice even further. âYou said you were calling in the FBI for a pickup. Who did you really call?â
You could tell he was trying to give you an out, an opportunity to explain that it wasnât what he was thinking, and maybe you should have lied your ass offâŠbut you no longer wanted to. You knew Russell; he wasnât going to let this go until he had an answer that he deemed to be the truth. And while you could give him a distorted version of that truth that didnât land at your feet, a petty part of you wanted him to know.Â
âY/N?â He pressed. âWho did you call?â
You sat back in your chair, considering him for a moment before you spoke. âNo one.â
Russell dropped his head, briefly closing his eyes. âFuck, I was afraid of that.â He glanced up at you, his eyes full of a sadness you hadnât seen in some time. You knew he wouldnât be happy if he ever found out the truth, but not to this extent. âI told you to walk away and let me handle it.â His voice was softer, not as gruff as before. You realized then that youâd accomplished what that vindictive side of you had wanted all along, ever since the day he walked away; youâd hurt him and caused him pain. Pain that you could see clear as day lining his face right now. He wasnât even trying to hide it. And quite frankly, that pain caught you off guard. After all of this time, this is what it took for him to feel even a sliver of what youâd felt back in the day when heâd left you bleeding, your heart torn from your chest and sitting in pieces on the floor heâd just casually walked over to get to the door?
Not really sure what to make of this development or the emotions it caused to rise up within you, you went into pure professional mode and forged ahead. âThe three of you didnât need to be involved.â You could see the pain getting worse and it made you uncomfortable, something prodding at your chest and itching at your skin that you really didnât care for. âBesides, last I checked, I donât take orders from you, Shaw.â You threw his last name in there as a last resort to put even more distance there between you.
His eyes flicked from the newspaper to you. âWho do you take orders from then? Something tells me this wasnât FBI-sanctioned.âÂ
You surreptitiously glanced around you before leaning in, lowering your voice.âYou know, going to your handlerâs house during her kidâs birthday party was a pretty bad idea. Ann really didnât like that.â You watched as Russellâs eyes widened slightly before his face fell, a dreaded realization filling his expression. He had never mentioned her name to you before and he knew Colter hadnât mentioned her to you either when giving you the rundown of what they knew before meeting up in the mountains. You sat back, tensed and ready for whatever came next.Â
His jaw clenched. âHow long?â He ground out.
âLong enough.â
You kept your gaze trained on his and you did your best to read him, trying to assess what he might do, now that the pain was all but absent since your revelation. Would he tell you to watch your back and leave? Would he tell you to stay away from Colter for good? It was hard to gauge from the way he was staring at you right then. You could see anger bubbling underneath but you also caught something coming to the surface that strangely looked like remorse. Considering you hadnât seen that emotion on him too often, it was tough to be sure in your identification of it. And then something flickered in his eyes right then, something so fast you almost didnât catch it, but you did. Fear that quickly dissolved into determination. You braced yourself for whatever he would say or do; this was it. This would determine your next steps.
Instead, he surprised you once more. He snatched the newspaper up and slipped it back into his jacket, before reaching over and taking your hand in his. âIâm getting you out of here. Now. Letâs go.â
Stunned, you wordlessly got to your feet but then it hit you, you were about to go somewhere alone with him. Not that you couldnât handle yourself but he had still been Special Ops once upon a time and he killed people for a livingâŠjust like you.Â
âRussell, Iâm notââ
âYes, you are,â he growled. âIâm getting you as far from here as I can. Iâve got a buddy who has a cabin in upstate New York. Itâs got months-long supplies, power and running water, and a small armory. Youâll be safe there until this whole thing blows over.â
You yanked your hand out of his and grabbed your phone and jacket. âIâm plenty safe here. I have no reason to run, so Iâm staying. You want to leave? Go right ahead. We both know itâs what youâre best at.â The sadness was back but you looked away from it. Yes, that had been another low blow but it was also well-deserved. You moved past him, refusing to look over your shoulder even once. There was no way heâd do anything out in the open; he wouldnât dare risk it, especially now.
You slipped into your car, not surprised in the least when Russell got in on the other side before you could even think about locking the doors.
âWhat are you doing?â You hissed.
âWhatâs it look like?â He clicked his seatbelt. âIâm staying with you until you agree to my plan to get you someplace safe or you explain how the hell this even happened.â He pulled out the newspaper, holding it up for a moment before tossing it to the floor. You could see the determined set to his jaw and you knew he meant it.Â
âRussell,â You pinched the bridge of your nose. âI do not have time for this.â You blew out a quiet breath and turned to face him. âNow I suggest you get out of my car orââ
âYouâll shoot me?â He shot you a look. Yeah, he was still pissed about the threats youâd made a few nights ago. You supposed you couldnât blame him but you did what you had to do to get him and his brother out of there. You had regrets but they were slim. âWe both know you wonât.â
That infuriated you and had you seething. âYou think I wonât?â
âI know you wonât. Just like I know that no matter how much you tell yourself that you hate me, you really donât.â
You scoffed out a laugh in disbelief. âWow, you really are incredibly delusiââ
âI also know you would never do that to my brother.â Your glare in his direction intensified. âYouâve always been protective of him. Just like me.â A glimmer of a fond smile worked its way onto his bearded face.
Your jaw clenched and you looked away from him, back towards the coffee shop you had just stormed out of, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. It was true; youâd always looked out for Colter in some way ever since youâd gotten to know him through Russell.Â
While the relationship between the brothers had been strained for years, it didnât mean that there hadnât been a couple of times where Dory hadnât attempted to get them into a room together to try to fix what had been broken. In one such instance, Russell had brought you along, after shocking you by asking you two nights before to accompany him. The man had spent over a decade in the military, worked Special Ops, and there wasnât much he was afraid of, if at all. But when you were wrapping leftovers to throw into the fridge and heâd laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him, youâd never seen Russell Shaw look so worried, vulnerable, and damn near terrified in all of the time youâd known him. Youâd even felt it when heâd enfolded you into his arms and whispered into your ear that he was due to meet up with his family in the next two days, asking you to come with him. How could you say no to that? You knew of the familyâs tragic history and the simmering tensions that still existed between the Shaws who were still alive; Russell had told you everything, even about how his mom had hung him out to dry (though he made excuses for her which made you grind your teeth). And for him to ask you to go, to meet his family, you knew then just how important this was for him. So you went, squeezed his hand in silent support whenever he appeared to need it, and did your best to provide distraction whenever things got a little too tense or heated. Dory didnât care for you too much; you got the distinct feeling that she wasnât happy Russell had brought an interloper to a family-only discussion. But ColterâŠColter you got along with from the start.Â
Colter seemed happier to talk to you than his brother and you could tell that bothered Russell tremendously. He had told you once how much he missed his siblings at times, especially his little brother, and he would never stop hoping to patch things up with them one day. Sure enough, he tried to interject into the conversation a few times with you helping as much as you could, but each time Colter shut him down. It was blatantly obvious that the younger man wanted nothing to do with him and there was definitely some resentment still floating around after years of estrangement. Needless to say, things hadnât ended well at that dinner and you werenât surprised that Russell drank a little heavier that night. Nor were you surprised when he grasped at you in the hotel room and pulled you to him, his lips claiming yours as he began unbuttoning your shirt and moving you towards the bed. You knew he was hurting and you let him take solace in you as you whispered loving assurances in his ear.Â
After that, Colter surprised you by calling you a couple of months down the road, apologetically asking for your help on a case he had picked up. Though he didnât know you well, he was in a rough spot and needed a helping hand, particularly a Federal one. You saw the opportunity for what it had been, an opening of a possible door between him and Russell, so you took it. You helped Colter as much as you could without risking being read the riot act by your superior, and you two got to know each other better as you worked together. It happened a few more times and you had even called Colter in to assist on a case of your own that you had snagged. You had gone for beers afterwards each time and youâd tried your best to talk to him, to convince him to give Russell a chance. He hadnât been interested, was resistant to it even, but he liked you and he was starting to trust you a little more each time. Heâd even reluctantly admitted once that he was glad his brother had you, immediately following up with âHe better be treating you right, though.â You had simply smiled and assured him that Russell very much was.Â
You didnât mention the odd absences a few times a month (sometimes with little to no warning), the radio silence during these stints, and the avoidance of any penetrating questions upon his return â all of it that had become conditional to your relationship by that point. And Russell certainly wasnât happy at all to find out youâd been working with Colter once you told him. You both had arguments before like any common couple but nothing like this. You had never seen him so angry and heâd laughed when you told him he had no need to be jealous if that was what he was worried about, you loved him and you were trying to make things better for the both of them, to pave the way for him to be able to make peace with his brother.Â
âYou just donât get it.âÂ
He had shaken his head and glared over at you before he walked out of the room, away from you. From then on, Russell became even more secretive, distant, and cold as ice. Gone was the easy affection, heart to heart talks, and playful banter between you. Gone were the tender touches, gentle kisses, and passionate sex. The love of your life turned into a stranger right before your very eyes. It hadnât been too long after that when heâd left for good, leaving your heart shattered on your hardwood floor. As time passed, you were surprised he hadnât just packed up and left in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, without a single word to you and completely ghosting you, since he had been intent on leaving you in his past. It might have been kinder actually compared to the things heâd said to you as a final goodbye before walking away for good.Â
So whenever you had dared to think back on it over the last few years, youâd always figured the fight over Colter had contributed in some way to the rapid unraveling of your relationship. Well, that fight andâŠother things.
âLetâs go somewhere we can talk,â Russell urged, breaking you out of your thoughts. âCome on, Y/N, you owe me that at least.â
You turned the most menacing glare on him that was possible for you to give someone. âI donât owe you shit,â you bit out. How dare he say that? To you of all people? Â
His jaw tightened and after a moment, he agreed with a soft nod. âFair enough.âÂ
You broke away from his intent gaze a minute later, your decision made as you turned the car on. âYou know what? If this will get you out of my life for good this time, then fine. Letâs talk. And donât be so sure I wonât shoot you afterwards should you continue to piss me off. Youâre right, I do care about Colter,â You scowled over at him. âBut not that deeply.â
Russell matched your scowl but wisely kept quiet as you backed your car out of your parking spot. You felt an immediate surge of guilt for having said that about his younger brother. You did care about Colter, more than you would ever admit to anyone, even your ex. There was nothing remotely romantic between you two; there never had been and there never would be. But Russell had been right; you were protective of him. Not only because he was a good man but he also reminded you of someone you had lost long ago. You would bend over backwards to keep him safe (as safe as you could given his chosen career), even if it meant putting yourself in harmâs way. He had truly become like a brother to you.Â
But you had also meant what you said just now. If Russell continued to irritate you, there was no way he was leaving this time without you putting a bullet in him. Right in his ass before the door could hit it when he turned his back on you for the last time. That or a good old fashioned ass kicking in the form of your right hook. After everything heâd done, he deserved nothing less. Â
You pulled up to a local motel that you had booked a room at the last few days, in case you needed to close up shop and haul ass out of town quickly. It wasnât the same establishment you had gone to the morning of the fire and you still had your place thirty minutes away, but you had learned it was always best to prepare for any eventuality. Especially after a job needing to be done so close to home. You had seen what happened with Doug; who was to say Horizon wouldnât leave you out to dry, too, should the heat from the fire get a little too close?
You got out and headed over to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside, not looking back to see if Russell was following you. Neither of you had spoken on the ride over (which was probably for the best) and you didnât glance at him once. Instead, you had done your damndest to tamp down the fury you felt racing through your veins as more and more memories played out in your mind. Now that Russell had a vague idea of the truth of what you had been doing all of this time, everything you had ever wanted to say to him seemed to be trying to rush to the surface as well as all of the pain you had endured.
You slipped your suit jacket off and tossed it onto the bedspread. You heard the door shut behind you and you spun around, seeing Russellâs eyes scanning the room, stopping on the bed, and then lifting to you. You scoffed and unbuttoned the sleeves of your blouse, rolling them up to your forearms. âNot happening so donât even think about it,â you hissed.
âWasnât going there.â
You didnât believe him. âRight.â You took a seat at the table and impatiently gestured to the seat across from you. âWell?â
He sat down and without missing a beat, dove right in. âHow the hell did this even happen, Y/N?â
âReally? Thatâs what youâre starting out with?â
Russell shot you a look.
You let out an aggravated sigh and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs and getting comfortable. âI was recruited, not too long after you left.â
His jaw dropped. âThey approached you?â
Nodding, your jaw tightened thinking back to that time. It wasnât a memory you liked revisiting. You were at your lowest, Russell having just walked out like the four and a half years youâd spent together hadnât meant a damn thing to him. He had been it for you. You had put everything you had into the relationship, which proved to be a difficult balancing act sometimes between your career at the Bureau and Russellâs job that he wouldnât tell you too much about. You both had overcome so much togetherâŠall for him to tell you that he simply didnât love you anymore, give you a shitty apology, and walk right out the door years later. Like you had simply been an amusing distraction, nothing more. Like you had merely been a stopping point in his journey and now he was bored and moving on. The breakup wouldâve hurt regardless but the cold detached manner heâd spoken to you with caused more pain than you would have ever been willing to admit. It was a good thing you had already become a Special Agent by then, not stuck to any one location or field office, given how often you were hungover for some weeks there. You had attempted to track him down (which hadnât been easy) to try to talk to him, to make him see reason; you didnât believe that he had stopped loving you just like that. But when you had finally located him, he had been holed up in a dingy motel, similar to this one, but he wasnât alone. That had hurt beyond words and it had taken everything for you not to say anything, not to let him see you, and turn back around, heading home with your tail between your legs and your head hanging in heartbroken defeat.Â
None of it made sense to you. How had your life changed so drastically in a single day? Perhaps you had never really known Russell Shaw. Perhaps you only saw what he wanted you to see. But when you replayed the last few weeks of your relationship, even the fight over Colter, something still wasnât jiving. So you buried yourself in work during the day and as deep into the bottle as you could during the late nights. Until they showed up.
âAnd you said yes?â He asked in disbelief.
Your eyes flicked to Russell, narrowing. âWhy not? You did.â
He pressed his lips together. You had him there and he knew it. âThat was different.â
âHow?â You snapped. âExactly how is that different, Russell?â
âI joined them long before you and I met.â Yeah, you knew that now. You knew everything he hadnât told you the time youâd been together, minus the actual details of the off the books missions he went on. You now knew why Doug had never told Tracy anything either. Not only were they not allowed to, but It was safer that way.
âWell, bully for you, Shaw. Youâve got a few years on me at being a black ops agent and youâve racked up a few more bodies than I have. Told way more lies, too. Congrats. Do we get you a cake orâŠ?â
He leaned forward, covering your hand with his. âStop. JustâŠtalk to me,â he pleaded gently.
You hated it when he did that because you hated that it still affected you on some deep level. You rolled your eyes and moved your hand from underneath his, placing it in your lap. âThey approached me about six months out from when you left.â
âWho approached you?â
Yeah, you werenât giving him that. If you did, you knew heâd be on their doorstep in a second and that you couldnât have. Not after you had just cleaned up the Solano mess and smoothed things over. âDoesnât matter.â
âIt does to me.â You knew that, could see it in his expression, but too bad. You both were in it now, had signed NDAâs, and details like that were meant to stay confidential anyway.Â
âSomeone did and thatâs all you're getting.â You gave him a meaningful look. âRegardless, they offered me a job and I took it.â
You watched as Russellâs features tightened. âAnd the FBI thing?â
âStill active, though Iâm now kept more as an ear to the ground, providing information and cleanup when need be.â You noticed a slight wince cross across his face. âTheyâre the ones I answer to and theyâve chosen to keep me there for the time being. Iâm more effective in that setup.â Those words from your handler still burned you but over time, you had been able to adapt and utilize their refusal to fully bring you in to your advantage.
âAnd Solano and his men? Were they cleanup?â
You didnât break away from his penetrating gaze and gave it to him straight. âYou and Doug made quite a mess of things. So, yes, I was called in to clean it up.â He briefly closed his eyes in the same pain you had seen earlier, though you couldnât fathom why. It had been nearly three years since heâd last professed to give a shit about you. Why would this even affect him? âHorizon wanted you kept clean and Doug was on his own. Then you idiotically showed up at Annâs residence, not only tipping them off to the fact that you were sniffing around where you shouldnât have been but then you allowed Colter to threaten them. You had to know that was going to ruffle quite a few feathers and put a target on your backs.â
His jaw clenched again and that dark void was back in his gaze. His fingers twitched near his phone and you knew he was itching to call his brother to check on him. âAnd they sent you to clean that up, too?â
You slowly shook your head. âNo.â If they had, you wouldnât be sitting here right now. Most likely, youâd be dead while Colter and Russell would hopefully be on the run or have gone into hiding. âOnly to assess what threats you both posed to the organization.â
âAnd what was your assessment?â He watched you carefully. In this moment, you werenât former lovers. You were two people with lethal skills and training, willing to do whatever it took to keep your loved ones safe, even from each other.Â
You never broke away from his gaze, watching him back just as carefully. âWhat do you think?â
He stayed quiet for a moment, looking pensive and most likely turning your words over in his mind. You werenât going to say it but knowing that gnawing feeling of constantly worrying about someone you cared deeply about, you wanted to make sure you both were on the same page of this topic. âAnd, Russell, if they had sent me for that, I never would.â His gaze immediately met yours. âEver,â you promised.Â
His eyes roamed over your face, most likely assessing if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth. Obviously having decided on the latter, after a minute or so, he gave you a nod. âHow do you know they accepted your assessment, though? Thereâs no way they donât know about you and Colter, you and meâŠâ
This time, your jaw was the one clenching. Yeah, you were made aware of that fact when you had been approached for recruitment. That was how they knew about you, your career as a Federal agent, and how you had been involved with Russell once upon a time. When you found out more about Horizon from the inside, it didnât surprise you one bit how deeply they dove into the background of their candidates or the amount of information they gathered on them. Youâd even helped put together a few files yourself, without fully knowing what unit the candidates were being considered for of course. They kept a close watch on their assets and that was putting it lightly.Â
So when you got involved with Russell, completely oblivious to what you were really getting into, Horizon had already scoped you out as well as Colter, Dory, their mother, Bobby, Reenie, Teddi, Velma â everyone. Even Colterâs on-again/off-again, Billie, and the mysterious circumstances of the death of the boysâ father. They knew it all. Horizon didnât like surprises and you supposed you couldnât blame them considering their line of work, but it also meant that you and everyone you cared about needed to be extra careful.Â
It was one of the many reasons you couldnât completely forgive Russell, though you now understood why heâd walked out when he did. Things had unraveled so badly between you that youâd started quietly digging into Horizon, not trusting what Russell had told you prior. Back then, you thought youâd find only what Russell had claimed: private security, perhaps a couple of Special Ops situations where an American hostage was retrieved in another country, or worse: he was lying to you and having an affair. Now, you knew he had told you the truth â a very scrubbed, limited version of the truth that omitted most of what he really did for the outfit. You remembered what heâd told you about a week and a half before he left.Â
âYou need to stop digging.âÂ
You looked upon him with confusion. One minute, you had been having a very tense and silent dinner where you could only hear forks scraping against the plates every so often, and the next, Russell was glaring over at you, speaking cryptically. âWhat are you talking about?â
âYou know exactly what Iâm talking about. You need to stop looking into Horizon and leave it alone. I mean it, Y/N. Let it be.â His eyes bored into you with warning before he got up from the table and took his plate into the kitchen, leaving you to finish your meal alone.   Â
Normally, you wouldnât have listened, determined to get to the bottom of Russellâs mysterious employer, but considering how your relationship was hanging by a thread at that point, you did. Despite the warning bells going off in your head, you did as exactly as he said: you let it be.Â
You suddenly remembered Russellâs question to you. âYouâre still breathing, arenât you?â
Russell affected a slow nod, thinking it over. âAnd Colter?â
âI told them heâs no threat,â you murmured. âI talked to him, told him to forget they exist. He agreed as long as you were safe.â
For the first time since this conversation started, you could see Russell start to relax a bit, relief saturating his features. Even a small smile started to light up the tension in his face. While you could understand the feeling, share it even, something about it had you on your feet, walking over to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water from the six pack you had tossed in there when you booked the room. You held one up in an offer but Russell shook his head.Â
âIâm good.â
You shrugged, unsurprised, and twisted off the cap, taking a drink. It made sense that he was still being cautious. Before you knew it, though, he was standing in front of you, that pleading yet determined look in his eyes again.Â
âI want to get you out.â
You snorted. âThere is no getting out, Russell. Not for me, anyway. Not until theyâre done with me.â
He took a step closer and gently took the water bottle from you, placing it on the counter, and grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. âThereâs always an exit strategy,â he murmured. âI never wanted this for you, Y/N. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. Thatâs why I left.â
Yeah, you knew that now, too. âI know that now. Why you wouldnât tell me certain things about your job, but, Jesus, Russell. Did you really think they didnât already know about me and who I was to you? Colter even? Dory? Your mom?â
He let out a deep sigh and hung his head, letting your chin go. âI know. I⊠It was a good fit for me at the time, the money was good â thatâs why I hooked Doug up with them. But seeing how they hung him out to dry at the first opportunity and now you,â He tenderly ran his thumb along your cheek. âIâm seriously starting to rethink that decision.â
You pulled away from him. âIt doesnât matter. You canât unring that bell.â You made your way back over to the bed and yanked your duffel bag from underneath it. You unzipped it and began rooting through it to make sure you had everything you needed for a quick getaway. You didnât think you needed to go anywhere but now this location was blown for you since you had made the decision to let Russell know about it. You had already triple checked your stash when you left it here upon check-in but you needed something to focus on instead of the clear regret in Russellâs face. âAnd as for me, I made my decision.â You pulled out a gun from a secret compartment, checked the clip to make sure it was full, and slipped it back inside. âIâm good with it. Iâve used it fully to my advantage and I make good money, more than I was ever going to make at the Bureau, even if they fast-tracked me to Deputy Director. Solano was on our Most Wanted List for twenty six days and I took him out in one. Had he possibly gone free, thereâs no telling what he would have done, who he would have hurt besides Doug.â You knew exactly what he would have done and who he would have hurt; heâd told you in explicit detail. You didnât go into it but Russell wasnât stupid (not when it came to things like this anyway). He most likely knew as well. Heâd wanted to close up Solano as a loose end himself after all. âThat kind of cleanup I can more than live with.â
Russell carefully approached, his eyes on the second gun you had pulled out and were checking. âI get that and I more than appreciate what you did with Solano. For Doug, for Colter and me.â Once you slipped the weapon back into its pocket, he laid a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look over at him. âYou canât tell me, though, that this is what you want for your endgame. Not really.â
You shook your head in disbelief. âI donât have an endgame, Russell. Maybe I did once but you took that the second you walked out the door, acting like everything weâd gone through meant nothing to you, like I meant nothing to you.âÂ
There was that remorse again and you despised it. âIâm sorry, IâŠhandled that badly,â he admitted.
âHandled it badly?â You laughed in disbelief. You shirked his hand off of you and moved to the night table, yanking the drawer open to rip out the bible sitting in there. You opened it to the area you had cut out to hold emergency cash and cards, just like Russell had taught you once upon a time. âYou told me Iâd been nothing to you but a fling for the past four years, that you might have loved me once but you didnât anymore. That I wasâŠhow did you put it? A fun distraction.â You slammed the bible shut and tossed it back into the drawer before closing it. You hurried back over to the bag, throwing the funds inside another secret compartment, more than done with this conversation.
âYouâre right, I fucked up. I only said those things toââ
âCut the cord, yeah, I know. Still doesnât make it right,â you muttered, roughly zipping the duffel back up.Â
âI wanted you to be safe. You were digging into them, even after I told you not to! And worse, you were pulling Colter into it!â
That quickly got your attention and you spun on your heel, jabbing a finger in the air at him. âDonât you fucking dare lay Colter at my feet. Especially after what you just pulled last week. It wasnât me hauling him into Dougâs case! Not to mention, way before you met me, the minute you took that job, you put everyone you knew on their radar and you know it! So donât you fucking dare. I have been doing everything I can to make sure Colter is safe and doesnât pull their attention, poring over every case he takes in the background to ensure theyâre not involved or have any vested interests that are. Hell, I even just used a contact of mine to float a case over to Teddi and Velma to get him out of town and far away from here to continue keeping him safe. Me, Russell! Me! And what did you do to keep him safe? You blow back into town and not only put him even more on their radar, you deliver him right to their goddamn doorstep! So donât you dare even try to put that on me,â you finished in a snarl.Â
Shame lurked at the corners of his eyes and you scoffed in disgust, whirling around to grab your jacket from the bed before picking up the duffel bag and slinging the handle over your shoulder. âSo glad we had this talk,â you sniped. âNow go have fun with the cheerleading dental hygienist or Reenie,â You could see more shame looking back at you. Unlike the hot tub conquest, Colter had actually told you about that one. You could tell how much it was bothering him and you knew he wouldnât have mentioned it otherwise, knowing it wasnât something you really wanted to hear. âOr that bartender you holed up with three weeks after you walked out on me,â Now you could see surprise; you could care less. âOr whoever you want. But me? Iâm done. Have a nice life, Russell Shaw, and try not to get killed before you get out to start your little brewery operation. Oh, and try to manage not to get your brother or me killed in the process, yeah? Thanks ever so much. See ya.âÂ
You were walking towards the door when you were grabbed and whipped around. Before you could react, Russell was on you, his mouth covering yours and his hands gripping your face. âI love you,â he breathed against your lips after breaking away to let you catch your breath. âIâm sorry I said what I did back then but it wasnât the truth. It took everything I had to walk away but as long as you were safe, that was all that mattered to me. I fucked up and I am sorry. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not ever.âÂ
He wiped at your cheeks and you hadnât even realized youâd been crying. Shit. Well, that was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was how much you wanted to believe him. You knew he was telling the truth about why he walked away, how he wanted to keep you safe, but it obviously hadnât been as difficult for him to move on as it had been for you. âNo, you donât,â you choked out. âIf that were true, you would have never walked out that door.â Your voice wobbled on those last few words and you hated it, hated how vulnerable you were being to him right now.
You wiped at your own cheeks and turned around, ignoring the pleading you saw once again in his eyes.Â
âY/N, please,â he ground out.
You kept moving towards the door. As you laid your hand on the door handle to turn it, you were whipped around one more time and he was kissing you yet again, your back pressed up against the wood. Except this time, you finally threw in the towel and gave in to what your damaged heart had been wanting all of this time. You buried your fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as passionately, not caring that more tears rolled down your cheeks as you did. He yanked the duffel bag from you and let it fall into a heap on the floor before lifting you up and turning to carry you over to the bed. You knew this was going to hurt like hell later but you refused to put a stop to it. Youâd find a way to numb the pain when it ripped you open a second time, just like you always had.Â
The only thought running through your mind as he laid you down and ripped your blouse open, sending buttons flying everywhere, was that you had been right. You knew the bastard had been lying earlier when youâd caught him looking between you and the bed. But right then as he lifted away from you to quickly shed his top layers and then dove back down to kiss you again and melt into you, your fingers greedily relearning every inch of his bare skin, you couldnât care less.  Â
You reached your hand over, tenderly running a finger along the edges of the bandage on Russellâs arm. âDoes it hurt?â You murmured.
âA little.â He turned his head to smile down at you. âMore than worth it, though.â
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his chuckle at you gently pushing his head away, and turned onto your back. Russell embraced you with his other arm, pulling you into him. You rested your ear against his bare chest, hearing his steady heartbeat and settling your gaze on the ceiling above you. He pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips linger against your hair, as his thumb rubbed your shoulder back and forth.
After a few minutes of content silence between you, you put voice to the question resounding in your mind. âHow did we get here, Russell?â
âWell, you drove us over and then weââ
You softly swatted his chest, making him laugh and hearing the sound reverberate underneath your ear. âYou know what I mean.â
âI wish I knew the best way to answer that, â he whispered to you. You could hear the genuine regret in his tone and it made you start thinking about when you both would have to leave this motel room, and go back to the separate lives you had been living. Memories of lazy mornings like this back when you had been together, of you listening to his voice in your ear and knowing you were safe and loved, replayed in your mind on a loop. You would never admit it to him but you missed this, missed him. Nothing had felt right in the last couple of years like this moment here did. If anything, all of that time felt like some weird drug-induced nightmare, and you had just woken up to find Russell here next to you, nothing having changed. But that wasnât true; everything had changed.
Not wanting to think about that just yet, you picked up the hand that had been caressing your shoulder and studied the skin of his wrist. âThis is new.â You trailed your finger along the design of the tattoo sitting there. âWhat prompted you to get this one?â
âThatâs something Doug and I got one night when we met up with another one of the guys from our unit when he was in town. Tommy Laird. Good man.â
âA crown?â
Russell shrugged underneath you. âTommy picked the design.â
ââWe three kingsâ, huh?â
You heard him chuckle. âNever thought of it like that but sure.â
âIs he also a part of Horizon?â
You felt him tense underneath you at the mention of the dark and deadly elephant in the room. âNo. He, uh, he lives with his wife and three kids in North Carolina. They have a house in Cary and he went back to the family business when he got home.â
You nodded and pulled his wrist to you, placing your lips on his skin and tenderly kissing the middle of the design before letting him go. He hugged you closer to him and placed a kiss to your ear in turn, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh.Â
A moment later, he murmured. âI want to help get you out.â
You nearly rolled your eyes again. You wanted to ask him why he was dead set on thinking that you even wanted out. Perhaps the you he had known would want a way out, want something more out of life than money and secrets and cleanups, but you had changed a lot in the last three years. But you knew if you posed that question, it would shatter the cocoon you currently found yourselves in and you werenât ready for that to end just yet. So instead, you reminded him of another angle of the truth. âThatâs not possible. Not the way youâre thinking. You know that.â
âAnythingâs possible.â You nearly smiled at his response; there was the stubborn streak that sometimes infuriated you and sometimes endeared you to him, like right now. But you needed to make sure you maintained a reality check for the both of you. You knew what he was really thinking.
âEven if it was, we canât.â
His head lifted and he frowned down at you. âWhy not?â
âThis isnât some Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit. We donât get a happy ending,â you finished sadly, thinking back to the life you once shared together as you cupped his cheek and rubbed it gently with your thumb. âNot together. Itâs too dangerous.â You left it at that but you knew that he was more than aware of what you meant.Â
His frown intensified at your words and he covered your hand with his, turning to place a kiss into your palm. âWeâll work it out.â
âRuss,â you sighed.
He gently grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking into your eyes. âWeâll work it out,â he softly repeated, that glint of determination back in his gaze.Â
You decided once more that you wouldnât bother launching into the many reasons it actually wouldnât work out and you would refrain from popping that bubble he had just wrapped you both in. That moment would come later. But for now, you continued to keep silent.
When he noticed you werenât going to say anything, a mischievous smile began to form on that handsome face you loved. âYou know, I donât really have anything planned for today. How about you?â
Other than some paperwork you had to go over later, your day was pretty much free, too. Even if it hadnât been, you knew that look and after this morning, despite still having some unresolved anger with him, despite things that still needed to be said between you, you would have freed up your schedule immediately. âI donât think Iâll be missed for a while,â you teased.
He leaned in to kiss you, whispering to your lips, âOh, you were missed. Very much fucking missed.â The impishness you had heard a moment before was now absent but he never gave you a chance to respond. Instead, he kissed you deeply and began moving to cover your body with his once again. He maneuvered himself in between your thighs, your legs automatically coming up to gently cradle his hips. âYour arm,â you broke away to warn him.
âDonât care.â He lowered down to keep kissing you and surprisingly (or unsurprisingly perhaps), all was right in the world right then. You didnât allow yourself to get swept away by it or by the fantasy of something that would never be. Sadly, the time for you and Russell to be together had come and gone. Youâd had your chance and you both had blown it, with him starting you out of the gate. This right here, this was all that was left â like embers of a dying fire. You would always love him, you knew that (truthfully, you had always known it), but this was all you would ever have. Once you both walked out that door, you would be walking in separate directions, taking different paths in your lives, no matter what Russell would say.Â
But for right now, you allowed yourself to live in the moment, to enjoy it as he groaned into your mouth when your hand helped guide him to where you both wanted him to be. You held onto him as he began a slow movement within you, knowing you would need to take over again very soon when his left arm began to tremble. But until then you kept him close to you, drank deeply of him, and reveled in what the two of you had always managed to create together, content to keep Horizon and the rest of the world on the other side of the motel room door, if only for a moment longer.Â
A/N: I know I left some things open and unresolved. I wanted to do that to let this be a gateway to the continuing story in the short series coming titled "Closer". Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x y/n#russell shaw fanfiction#close enough#thebiggerbear writes
168 notes
·
View notes