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bucky-hues · 4 years ago

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stucky fic recs

here are some stucky fic recs! as always, be sure to read the warnings for each fic <3

one shots

finding home | @thedamageofherdays

cap steve x modern bucky

After he is caught in a terrible rainstorm while hiking, Bucky is glad to find shelter at the cottage Steve shares with his daughter and his dog. Bucky ends up finding so much more than just a safe place to spend the night.

x | @dreadlockholiday

steve x bucky

Request: Bucky looking through a glossy magazine and saying something like "God, can you imagine being paid for just looking cute?" And without thought Steve replies, "you'd be a millionaire" and Bucky just blushes furiously while Steve's all like 😳 *oh no, I just said that out loud*

x | @dreadlockholiday (18+)

steve x bucky

Bucky finds his BFF Steve's sketchbook... and it's full of nothing but sketches of Bucky... naked.

sweethearts | @musette22

steve x bucky

Steve confesses his feelings to Bucky using sweethearts

my moon, my man | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

AU meet-cute. Strangers on a Train, but with less murder and more sexual tension.

make it till you fake it | AggressiveWhenStartled (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Ned,” Peter said, like a drowning man sighting land. “Ned. Captain America and the Winter Soldier are fake dating right now and it is the most painfully awkward and obvious thing I have ever seen, all of us want to die, Ned.”

things my heart used to know | Nightwing11 (AO3)

steve x bucky

In a world where soulmates can communicate telepathically with their partners, Steve Rogers has always had Bucky Barnes with him, a calming voice in a sea of turmoil. And, when Bucky falls off the train during World War II, Steve experiences deafening silence for the first time.

Now, after crashing a plane in the Arctic to save the world and being frozen for 70 years, Steve’s still trying to figure out how to live without Bucky there. His new friends are trying to help him adjust, to move on. And he thought he was doing better, he really did.

So, why is he suddenly hearing Bucky’s voice again?

catfish | @buckmebxrnes (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn't expect is a guy using Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating site?

Not like it's really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

let's go have fun | @sebastanbucky

steve x bucky

“Nat wanted me to-” Nat clears her throat and he rolls his eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.” He looks at Steve with a look he hopes says ‘play along’. “Okay. What did you want to tell me?” Bucky has to take a deep breath to keep from laughing again, it helps with his performance as Nat nods encouragingly at him. “I’m gay.” He says, making his voice sound shaky and weak.

the way you came around | sokaless (AO3)

steve x bucky

After a while, Bucky says, “You know, this song sounds like it was written for you.” “That's funny,” Steve remarks. “I chose it because it reminded me of you.” Steve gives Bucky an iPod full of his favourite songs from the 21st century to help him deal with his nightmares. Bucky has a new mission- to find out who Steve is in love with, because there are a few too many unrequited love songs on that iPod.

stuck on you | wearing_tearing (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

you have the place next to my place | justanotherStonyfan (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

prompt: “We live in adjacent apartments and our bedrooms are on opposite sides of a very thin wall and one night I heard you crying and talked to you through the wall” AU

Captain America helps the Vet next door.

you’ve got (30) new matches | williamkaplans (AO3)

steve x bucky

When everyone finds out Steve's bi thanks to Bucky's recovering memories, Natasha kicks up her match-making into high gear. Steve has zero luck, but Natasha won't give up, especially when Sam (jokingly) suggests online dating. It isn't long before Steve finds someone, a someone who seems eerily familiar.

perfectly right wrong number | melonbutterfly (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

put your number in my phone | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve tucks his phone back into his pocket and turns back to the computer. He only has to click a few times before he finds the link to the questionnaire and opens it, inputting the participant number before hitting next. The beginnings of the consent form fills the page, and all Steve has left to do now is wait for the participant— one James Barnes, according to the website— to show up.

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t end up having to wait very long. James Barnes shows up ten minutes early and knocks on the door before cracking it open and peeking in.

“Oh, hi,” he says, when he spots Steve sitting at the desk. He pushes the door open all the way and steps into the room just as Steve spins in the chair to face him.

“Um, I’m, uh, a bit early, but I’m here for the decision making study,” James continues, clear blue eyes flickering around the room before landing on Steve again. The skin between his eyebrows crinkles up a little, and god, Steve probably shouldn’t find his uncertainty as cute as he does. “Am I in the right place?”

wouldn’t it be nice | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"You are never going to believe what just happened," Bucky bemoans, shaking his head. He's at Steve's side in a moment and doesn't bother to give any warning before he dramatically falls into Steve's lap. Steve just barely manages to save his book from getting squashed.

"What is it?" Steve asks, matching Bucky's dramatic tone. "What am I not going to believe?"

"I just got off the phone with Natasha," he starts. "She cancelled on me!" Bucky throws his arms up, nearly smacking Steve in the face in the process.

Steve carefully places his hand on Bucky's forearm and lowers it away from his face.

"You're kidding," he says, a frown curving onto his lips at the news.

"I wish I was," he sighs. Bucky presses his lips together into a disappointed line and deflates against the back of the couch, slinking down Steve's thighs a little. "Who goes to Coney Island alone? How pathetic is that?"

Steve snorts, earning a glare from Bucky, and pats Bucky's thigh. "Aw, don't be such a sourpuss, Buck," he says. "Who said anything about going alone?"

all jokes aside | darksknight (AO3)

steve x bucky

"Before we know it Banner’s gonna be makin’ insinuations.” (Everyone "jokes" about Steve and Bucky being in a relationship until, eventually, they admit that they are.)

barnes & rogers and the goddamn truth

steve x bucky (teacher au)

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

in the shadows | DragonWannabe (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Five times they thought they were almost caught, one time someone found out, and one time they didn't have to hide.

OR:

Bucky and Steve grew up in a time when people like them went to jail.

single and looking | Jaiden_S (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

"Bucky held his place with his index finger and turned the magazine over to check the date on the cover. It was brand new, just out this month. An unexpected cord of anxiety tightened in Bucky’s chest. Single and looking? Frantically, he flipped back to the article. What exactly was Steve looking for? According to the article, Steve’s dream girl should be intelligent, altruistic, well-versed in current events and have a wicked sense of humor. Oh, and he had a thing for high heels and red lipstick. Bucky’s stomach churned as he re-read the article. Was that really what Steve wanted? Make-up and stilettos?"

A slightly sappy tale of two utterly besotted super-soldiers who excel at miscommunication.

these american dreams (ain’t no white picket fences left for me) | kariye (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

In which Bucky has a house, a dog, an herb garden, and a serious case of insomnia. Welcome to Havensport, Indiana (population 8,294), where Tom’s Neighborhood Grocer stays open all night, little old ladies call the car shop to get their refrigerators repaired, and the heat of summer days and the length of summer nights can make you think that this perfect world will last forever.

i’ve been careless with a delicate man | paraxdisepink (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Steve lets SHIELD think he and Bucky were boyfriends so they’ll let him see the Winter Soldier in medical.

knock on wood | 74days (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers lives a quiet, steady life, until his next door neighbour moves in and starts having incredibly energetic sex every night. All Steve wants is for him to move his bed away from the wall so the damn headboard doesn't knock a hole through his wall.

progressively bigger keys | spinawren (AO3)

steve x bucky

“A very little key will open a very heavy door.” ― Charles Dickens, Hunted Down

Steve and Bucky, it appears, have less need for a key and more use for a battering ram in trying to come out of the closet.

(The one where Steve tries to do one thing (one thing!) without causing a national ruckus, but the press are determined to see Bucky as Steve's best friend. And nothing more.)

stucky discover gay rights | Alicia_Borealis (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Then, why-” Steve stopped himself and looked at Bucky, who had tears rolling freely down his cheeks. “We’re- we’re not sick?”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked.

“Being a homosexual, it isn’t… wrong?”

The story of how Steve Roger's loved and lost Bucky, then how he got him back and then how he realised he was allowed to love him after all.

thursday nights with bucky barnes | Ellessey (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve has a comfortable, well-worn routine for his Thursday nights, until the old man who runs the laundromat breaks his hip.

Then Steve has Bucky instead.

to seek a nood-er world | jehans (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Send noodz

Steve has been staring at his phone for the last six minutes, eyes narrowed so much they’re almost closed at this point, trying to figure out what the hell Bucky means. Noodz? What the fuck are noodz?

Listen, Steve is at least marginally aware of modern pop culture. He’s heard of nudes — not that nudes are exactly a modern invention; artists have been creating them for millennia — and he does know that people tend to misspell words to be cute or funny. They did that when he was young, too. Because time is a flat circle, apparently.

But, wait—does that mean…?

No. Not possible. Bucky isn’t asking Steve to send him…nudes.

Right?

tied ‘round your throat | sleepypercy (AO3) (18+)

police officer steve x serial killer bucky

Steve's a small-town police officer trying to track a serial killer who's been in Steve's bed the whole time.

much tattoo about nothing | Deisderium (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

the perfect man | Ellessey (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Setting up a dating profile is decidedly not in Bucky's skill-set, but against all odds he manages to connect with someone who makes the one-night stand he thought he wanted feel like not nearly enough.

kiss me and take off your clothes | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is dared to send a dick pic to a blog which critiques dick pics (run by none other than Bucky Barnes). Hilarity ensues.

i can’t dare to dream about you anymore | steveandbucky (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve considers himself to be a pretty open-minded guy, which is why he can't quite understand why he feels so uncomfortable whenever he sees his gay roommate kissing guys. He's not homophobic, but how else can he explain the way his stomach twists at the sight?

It takes him a while to catch on.

exam room b | steveandbucky (AO3)

modern steve x nurse bucky

“Wait, what do you mean he asked for me?”

“He asked if the cute male nurse with the ponytail was working today. I assume he meant you.”

kickstart my heart | Kalee60 (AO3) (18+)

doctor steve x modern bucky

Bucky’s Wednesday wasn’t off to a great start. Not only did he wake up in a hospital with his annoyed best friend staring down at him, his treating Doctor just happened to be way too familiar, and the reason for that was slightly mortifying.

With misunderstandings in the air, a snarky nurse who is a pain in his butt and the ugliest neck brace known to man attached to his body. There was no way his Wednesday was ever going to improve. Could it?

you make me feel.. | kalika_999 (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

All Steve wanted was to take a breather, decompress after a mission and go out for a jog in the rain. He wasn't expecting to hide out in a bookstore filled with new and used books or that the employee that worked there thought he was an absolute loser and didn't even realize he was insulting Captain America.

nothing in the world that could stop it | rainbow_nerds (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky just wanted to send his best friend a picture of his cat being an idiot while he was taking a bath. Was it really his fault for forgetting the full length mirror right opposite the tub?

rescue me and hold me in your arms | 74days (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky is on the worst date of his life, and what he really needs of for this waitress to get the message he's sending her with his mind to rescue him. She doesn't, but she does send someone to extract him from a night of torture...

odd ways | peterbparker (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“And it would have been an amazing night with my son if he wasn’t distracted by the hot guy on the other side of the room,” Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “He’s been looking over at you for the past fifteen minutes.”

Bucky choked on the mouthful of beer he had just taken.

“What?” he croaked. Things were starting to make a little more sense now.

“Right?” Sarah said, waving her hand towards her son. “He completely ignored my garden stories because he’s been making eyes at you so I decided to come over and introduce myself.”

series

rare is this love (keep it covered) | @musette22 (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

It’s 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

coming up easy | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

4 minute window | @cesperanza

steve x bucky

"Look, if they catch me," Bucky muttered, "they're either going to kill me or they're going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can't."

swapped | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

if u wanted my number u couldve just asked

u didnt have to steal my whole phone ;)

Steve stared down at his phone, confused. He didn't recognize the number – except, oh wait, he really did. That was his number. On his phone.

He flipped the phone over, then slid one hand down his face. Not his phone.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

[stupid fucking] brooklyn hipster bros | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky's mother gives him an ultimatum. Bucky doesn't respond well.

All Barneses are stubborn assholes, Steve observes, as though he doesn't see the irony of calling someone else stubborn. Or an asshole.

And Bucky can't even deny he is a total asshole for lying to his mother about dating Steve just so he doesn't have to bring someone else to her wedding, but damn if he's not going to give the lie everything he has.

brought to brightness | eyres (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

slide to answer | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

how to woo the winter soldier | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said.

“What,” Natasha said.

“What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier.

“Steve, no,” Clint groaned.

Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

all these things that i’ve done | @not-withoutyou

steve x bucky

Steve was the patron saint of waiting too long. Bucky was atoning for his sins. Maybe they’d both been forsaken, abandoned by the light. Maybe they’d find a way back to each other again.

Post civil war, if things had gone differently.

find a way (to make it back home) | belwrites (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (college au)

Fresh off a year abroad, Head Resident Assistant Steve Rogers finds his senior year of college to be full of changes, and he's not just talking about the growth spurt. He's more concerned with the fact that his best friend...isn't talking to him? Is dating his ex? May or may not be missing an arm?

In which Steve has no fucking clue what's going on, but he's trying, Bucky learns how to communicate with his best friend again, and everyone quietly panics about the future.

is it pretending if i already want you? | OhCaptainMyCaptain (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they're never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event

the roommate | layersofart, Niitza (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

dear mr. postman | odetteandodile (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve and Bucky revive an old friendship, get married (but totally just as friends, for reasons), and navigate a few of the many trials of the heart that come with falling in love with your best friend.

fate will play us out | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Bucky has landed himself a job with Stark Industries. He doesn't know yet that the job is actually being the PR manager for the Avengers.

Bucky has also started dating Steve Rogers. He also doesn't know yet that Steve is Captain America.

Bucky's life is about to get a whole lot more exciting.

the avengers hate club | notebooksandlaptops (AO3)

pop star steve x modern bucky

Bucky falls hopelessly for Steve and starts an Avengers hate club with the lead singer of the Avengers.

songbird | chicklette (AO3) (18+)

modern steve x musician bucky

At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Well, one of them anyway. He’s a man who’s given up on finding joy in his life, and if it wasn’t for his kid, he’d have probably found a way to quit the world a long time ago.

Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is, other than some musician his mom liked a lot. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top.

Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

the right partner | LeeHan (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x ws bucky

Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

Date Bucky Barnes. Defeat the Winter Soldier. Bring down Hydra. How hard could it be?

#stucky fic #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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another-fantasy-world · 4 years ago

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Theirs, In Every Way Possible

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Jemily x Fem! Reader, JJ x Reader x Emily

Summary: JJ and Emily thought that their life couldn’t get any better, until they met you. However, what happens when you aren’t completely truthful to them and the team who was already a family to you?

Warnings: Canon Violence, Reader came from a serial killer family, Reader has so many traumas, Homophobia, Reader has trust issues and is very indecisive. Y/N might frustrate you. Major Character Injuries.

Word Count: 3816 words

GIF isn’t mine

This case is completely made up from the top of my head, so if there are any similarities in the episodes in CM, they were probably just carved in my brain. Also, this might be a little ooc because I can’t just seem to tap into their personalities just yet

I’m sorry, I tried making this as angsty as I possibly could, I’m still working on my angst.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were fairly new to the BAU, only working there for about 6 months, and yet you fit in really easily. It definitely helped that you were the sunshine- Penelope Garcia’s bestfriend and that Erin Strauss couldn’t bring herself to dislike you. But what matters the most to them is that fact that you were a genius. No, not like Dr. Reid genius. You understood the serial killers in a personal level, and you would often coax the weapon out of their hand and get them to submit and surrender. Of course, when they confronted you about it, you easily lied and they somehow accepted that. So much for being profilers.

You never really did know when you first started seeing the couple in a new light. Yes you liked them both. It never really mattered since you just knew that it would just fade away. It was already embedded in your brain that everyone eventually leaves and that being too close to anyone would only get them killed. You learned that the hard way. But that didn’t stop you from admiring them from the shadows. It didn’t stop you from smiling whenever they talk, it didn’t stop you from memorizing their features like they were about to vanish into thin air, it didn’t stop you from admiring how JJ controlled the media, or how Emily used that voice when she’s speaking to the unsub and it didn’t stop you from admiring how well they fit each other, how their hands fit like puzzle pieces, and how your heart clenches in awe when you see them cuddled up with each other. You didn’t know what you would do with yourself, you desperately needed to get away from them, but you also wanted and needed to be around them. God, you knew you sounded like a hormonal teenager.

“This is Daryln Garcia, Ahron Balydyn, Abbey Banagher and Jehoushua Castiel. Their names are on top of the list of the recent chain of murders all over each state.” Garcia winced at the pictures that she had to present to the whole team, she never did seem to get used to it

“Some of these are from waaaaay long before, why only now?” Emily asks from her seat , which was coincidentally next to yours

“The M.O’s are all over the place, which is why they didn’t connect the murders until now. The only thing connecting them are black sticky notes that are posted on the wall and on their body.” Rossi reads out.

“Where’s the latest one?” You ask, sipping your coffee

“...Los Angeles, California.”

“Wheels up in Five.” Hotch concludes, as everyone gets up to gather themselves.

After talking and discussing the case a bit more, You all decide to calm down for a few hours, and each and everyone of you set off to do your own things.

“Uh-huh, you’re staring at them again huh.” Garcia teased you through the screen.

Spencer was memorizing and rereading the case files,

Hotch was talking with Rossi, probably discussing the case,

Morgan has his headphones clogging his ears,

JJ and Emily were cuddling with each other as JJ munched on her cheetos.

You were currently seated away from the team, just out of earshot because you knew that Garcia would begin spouting non-sense.

“Shut up...” You blushed bright red. “...I told you this once, while I was drunk and now you bring it up in every conversation that we have. It’s just a silly little crush, sunshine. It’ll pass.” You told her, playfully glaring at the screen, to which she laughed

“Sure, Gummy Bear. Keep telling yourself that.” She grinned.

When you were about to land, you hung up on your bestfriend before steeling yourself, You didn’t need to acknowledge the gut feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you most certainly ignored the growing headache that you have.

JJ and Emily certainly noticed you right from the start. The woman who had no experience in the field whatsoever is suddenly the finest one they ever seen. (or maybe that’s just because they were so attracted to you that they happen to pay too much attention) That wasn’t the only thing they noticed though: They also noticed the tiny change in tone when you talk to either or both of them at the same time, or the way that your head would be the first to turn when they walk in the bullpen, or the way that your eyes would quickly scan them from head to toe before you bury your face into the paperwork that Hotch gave you, just a slight hint of embarrassment in your eyes peeking out from the cover or maybe it was the way that you would breathe a little heavier and talk a little faster when you discussed the case with them. You weren’t painfully obvious, but they were profilers for God’s sake, they notice everything, especially if it’s about you. There was just something so painfully attractive about you that interests them so much. The way your hair flowed as it dances with the wind, The way you licked your lips since they were dry (They tried to get you to use a lip gloss or a lip balm but you fought them, real hard.), The way your body tackled unsubs who got into your nerves (They always had to change clothes after that...), The way your eyes shined when you successfully return and reunite families, The way your mind worked: How you analyze quick, How you look at things in all angles, How you tried to put yourself in the very scene, How you work so well with Spencer and How you always seem to know what to say, every damn time. Maybe it was the way you broke social construct just by wearing a suit everytime you go to work, or it’s probably the smirks you give them when you’re right about something and they were in the wrong. (It makes them want to pounce on you, but they restrain themselves, taking their frustrations out on each other in the privacy of their own home.) But what they hate the most, it how dense you are. At this point, JJ could send you a love letter and you would think that it’s a recent case evidence.

"...This is Dr. Reid, SSA Prentiss, Y/LN, Morgan, Jareau, and Rossi."

“Right this way, we have arrested a prime suspect this morning.”

“How?” You ask, lifting two duffle bags and setting them down to your designated table

“She was found lurking around the crime scene and a bloody shirt matching one of the latest victims in his backpack.”

“Can we have her bag?” Emily asks, approaching the officer

“Yeah sure. Right this way Agent.” He leads her to somewhere while you trail Hotch to the interrogation room, only to freeze in your tracks.

“What the hell” you whispered under your breath, feeling the same suffocating aura when you felt like your past is catching up to you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You hear Derek ask you.

“I can’t do this. I need to call Garcia. Excuse me.” You replied with a look in your eyes. Derek recognized that same look with Emily when she ran away, pursuing Doyle to protect the team, and he’ll be damned if he let’s history repeat itself.

“Nuh-uh sweetcheeks. I know that look. Tell me.” Derek grips your forearm gently.

“Derek. I promise I won’t run away. And if I’m not back within an hour, track my phone and my ring.” you assured him, pulling your phone out and hurrying outside.

“Garcia. Please tell me that my identity is still concealed.” You begged Penelope while you were stress smoking at the back of the precinct.

“It is! I promise! There’s no way they would find you! through technology at least.” she ranted. You see, Penelope Garcia doesn’t do well with secrets, but you really needed her, and she understood that. Which is why your secret is the best kept secret she has, she hid your secret for a year now.

“Then tell me why my aunt, who might I add is an absolute psychopath, is in our major suspect list right now?” you panicked, knowing that your “family” has somehow tracked you

“It might be a coincidence, Gummy Bear. But I will look into it! I promise.”

“Garcia. One more favor. Back up all my files, all of it. From my work laptop, my FBI files, my personal devices, all of it. Then delete them all. I’m going to use a disposable starting now. Pull up the GPS service for my ring, keep an eye on me at all times. I’ll be damned if I see more of my family.” You spat out, stomping out the light of your cigarette, before popping a mint.

“Consider it done. Don’t you think it’s time to tell them?” she carefully asks, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Thank you Garcia, And I will. Once the time is right.” You grumbled, knowing that it’ll be sooner than later.

“Y/N. Tell them before it’s too late. Please, for your sake and for ours too.”

“I will short stuff. I will.”

For days you successfully evaded interrogating your aunt, subtly helping them as much as you can without raising suspicion. You knew that this secrecy is going to be revealed soon

“Y/N. We picked up coffee for you.” You suddenly hear JJ behind you, Emily’s hand gently placing the coffee in front of you, her eyes filled with concern

“You didn’t go to your hotel room did you?” Emily accused

“...No” You dropped your head onto the files in front of you

“You need your sleep Y/N. You’re no use when your brain can’t even function.” JJ retorted, taking a seat beside you, with Emily by her side.

“...Fine. A nap on that sofa. That’s it.” You bargained, determination shines in your eyes

“Okay. Go.”

And then, the moment your head hits the arm rest, you blacked out. Only waking up to Derek’s frantic shaking of your body

“Y/N! Get up!” It was rare for Derek to be this panicked and scared, and that gave you anxiety

“What? What is it?!” You stood up, feeling yourself get dizzy my how fast you got up.

“JJ and Emily are gone.”

What?

“Wait- What do you mean- How long was I asleep?” You blinked

“Precisely 4 hours, 36 minutes and 56 seconds.” Reid blurts out from infront the whiteboard.

“What happened for fuck’s sake?” You sat back down, rubbling your head

“Hotch was about to send you in on a lead, but they both volunteered instead.” Rossi explained

“And no one sent backup?” You were angry, barely keeping it in, you were slowly regretting keeping your secret now

“No one knew until now, when JJ and Emily didn’t come back after an hour, Derek went after them, only to find this.” Rossi lifts up the black sticky note.

“Family for Family, Blood for Blood”

“Is it possible that Rayna Torres, is their relative?”

“ Call and Tell Penelope I said Yes.” You point to Derek, knowing that Garcia will know what to do. You’ll let your bestfriend explain, she’ll explain it better since your mind is fogged

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your face hardened, clenching your jaw. You rarely showed anger, or annoyance for that matter, so they didn’t know what to do when you stormed off in pursuit of Hotch.

You found Hotch in the interrogation room, silently observing your Aunt

“Let me talk to her.” You say, earning a nod from him

You stormed in, slamming the door behind you.

“Listen here, you little psychopath. Where are they.” His eyes widened slightly, Hotch didn’t expect you to be so hostile

“There you are. I was beginning to think that we got the wrong team.” She grinned, intertwining her fingers, her wrists still bound to the table by a handcuff.

“I am not in the mood for your games.” You deadpanned, gripping the table to conceal your anger

“Hmmn. You always did have your father’s temper.”

“WHERE. ARE. THEY.” You slammed your palms on the metal table, making a slight dent on it. Ignoring the pain, you glared at her hard

“You know where they are child. I know that you know where they are.” The devilish grin once again appeared on her face.

“If I step foot inside that warehouse, and they are not there, I can’t guarantee your head will still be attached to your shoulders when they prepare you for your casket. Auntie.” At that statement, you walked away with a surprised Hotch on your trail.

He treated you like his very own ever since you knocked on his door, crying your eyes out, ranting about your family. Of course he noticed the small slip-ups you accidentally let out especially when you’re drunk. But it was never enough to completely put the picture together. He knows that you treat him as a father figure. Which is why he can’t let you go in there alone.

“No. Absolutely not. You might die Y/N!” You raised your brow at him, the bulletproof vest never felt as heavy as it is now

“You’ve known me for 6 months, you’ve known them for years. Why are you picking me over them? You know that I’m what they want. You or any other person steps in though that door, they’re all going to be dead before they see JJ and Emily. Not to mention they might kill JJ and Emily too. Please Hotch. This is my battle. If I die, I die. I don’t want to live knowing I could’ve done something.” Those were your last words before you slowly walked to the warehouse door after getting wired.

“This really isn’t the best first impressions you could make on your future daughters-in-law. Father.” You spoke as you saw him pointing a revolver at her, at your Emily.

You almost collapse at their state. JJ’s beautiful blonde hair caked with dirt and blood, she was staring at you, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lip is swollen and you could see multiple bruises forming.

However, Emily’s state was much worse. Her eyebrow was bleeding, her knuckles are bruised, she has small cuts everywhere and you could see that she was struggling to stand up despite being tied by her hands to the ceiling

“This one has a sharp tongue daughter. i don’t appreciate it.” He snarled, now pointing his gun at you

“Last one who said that exact words to had his dick cut in half. Where’s my jerkwad of a brother anyways? How’s his dick? Still has my bite marks? Scars maybe?” You smirked, hearing your “mother” load her gun

“Disrespectful Bitch. Don’t talk to your brother like that, he’s better than you ever will be” She snarled, firing at your feet, slashing through your pants, making you bleed slightly, making JJ scream through her gag.

“Your aim’s getting rusty.” You pulled out both your guns, pointing them at you biological “parents”

“And you’re wearing a bulletproof vest. Take it off and kick your guns to us. You know what’ll happen if you don’t” you gritted your teeth, taking off the vest despite the protests of Hotch and the rest of the team

“Happy?” “Very.”

“Now let them go.” You frowned

“No. You see, since you do love them right?” Your father smirked, making you frown

“Yes. I do. I’m in the same team as them for fuck’s sake!”

“No. No. That’s not just it. You love them in a different way as well. Say it.”

“...” Your mother rolled her eyes at your silence and fired two bullets to Emily and JJ, scraping Emily’s cheek and JJ’s shoulder.

You flinched, you knew not to show emotion, but it’s painful to see the women you love get hurt.

“Okay! Fine! You want me to say that I love them? I will.” You gritted out

“Go on then, you know how I love my drama shows.” You glared at them, taking a deep breath in, watching them walk out of the room, a bright spotlight aligns itself on the three of you, It really is a sick TV show that your parents would love to watch.

“What they say is true. I don’t know if you noticed it yet. But I do love you, both of you. I really hoped that I could tell you over dinner, or a cup of coffee, but I guess life has other plans. Loving the both of you seems so weird, and unconventional, but who wants to be normal and boring am I right?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, which they didn’t appreciate.

You moved your hand to their gags slowly, listening for complains from your parents, hearing none, your grabbed their gags and pull them down.

“Y/N-” They both started

“Shhh. Let me speak, you know I don’t have much time.” You smiled, implying that you wouldn’t get out of this alive.

“I notice everything. I do. I’m not as dense as you think I am. I just... I didn’t like the thought of you both getting attached to me. I love you both so much that I knew that if they catch up to me, I could die, or you could get hurt. And now this happened.” JJ shook her head as if to say it isn’t your fault.

“I love you both so much, I love the way you look at each other, often wished I could look at you both like that. I love the way you both force me to sleep then give me coffee in the morning. I love the way your brow furrows when you see a detail in the reports that displeases you, and then you’ll playfully glare at JJ and I when you notice that we’re laughing at you. There’s a lot more that I want to say to you, but I don’t have enough time.” you say, moving closer to them, tears staining their bruised cheek.

“I’ll see you in our usual spot in the coffee shop across the street?” You whisper to JJ, kissing her cheek

“I’ll be copying your move now.” You chuckle lightly, kissing her cheek

A slow clap rang throughout the room.

“Now that is a perfect drama and revenge.” You whipped your head around, only seeing your father. Pulling out your knife from your thigh, you run towards him recklessly, the screams of JJ and Emily’s pleads piercing your ears.

And then three gunshots rang throughout the warehouse, Derek kicked the door down, chasing after your laughing family. Your ears were ringing, you didn’t even notice that you collapsed from the impact. You couldn’t believe it actually worked. You could feel the sticky, red colored cornstarch mixture on your abdomen. However the growing pain on your shoulders prevented you from celebrating.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, the impact of the bullets on your abdomen radiating throughout your body, yet you can also feel the bullet that’s still in your shoulder.

“Y/N. Stay with us come on” Emily whispered, despite her being in a worse condition that you, She still has your hand in a death grip.

“I’ll be fine Em.” You reassure her through jagged breaths, JJ’s crying face invading your view made you smile too.

The moment that Emily and JJ were free from their binds, they immediately limped towards you as fast as they can, both of them on each of your side, silently wishing that they had more time

“They only managed to shoot me on my shoulder okay? I’ll be fine.” You could see the confusion in their faces, which faded when the paramedics unbuttoned your stained white shirts, only to find another bulletproof vest and an empty plastic bag, previously filled with what they can assume was fake blood.

Emily’s eyes widen, what you did was dangerous, and extremely risky. You gambled on a unpredictable mess and she wondered how you got Hotch to approve of what you did, only to find out later that Hotch didn’t know either.

You could only smile at them, feeling the drugs the paramedics injected take effect, slowly drowsing off. You were happy they were somewhat safe. You were also happy that you managed to stab your father in his arm. Even if your brother did shoot your shoulder from behind, you were still happy with how things turned out.

Almost regretting what you did when you woke up to a staring Emily, JJ quietly handing you water, before they both scolded you like there’s no tomorrow.

However, after what seemed like ages of reprimanding from the older women, they both pecked your lips before asking you out on a date.

I guess it all worked out in the end.

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jemily x reader #emily prentiss imagine

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thatfanficstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Impossible - 21

Pairing: Eric Northman x Reader

Warnings: Nan Flanagan

A/N: *looks at Godric suspiciously* He's up to something.

***

When you woke you found yourself in bed, laying between two vampires who were quite literally dead to the world. Despite that, you felt safe and loved. You smiled and took the opportunity to do inventory of your injuries. You seemed to be fully healed. At the very least you were a damn sight better than you’d been when you passed out. You spared a second to wonder if you would have survived had Godric not been there to give you his blood.

You turned to face the vampire in question to find him laying so he faced you. You trailed a finger down his face to trace his profile. A ghost of a smile curved his lips. It must be nearly sundown which meant you needed to get ready for the night.

You climbed over Eric to get out of the bed and pressed a kiss to his cheek on your way by. His hand brushed your leg. A glance at the clock confirmed that sunset wasn’t far off. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand where it was charging and headed into the bathroom to clean up. You scrolled through the texts from your father as you turned on the shower so it would warm up. “Shit,” you said as you read his latest text. Nan Flanagan would be here within the hour. God, you hated that bitch. Your father called her a necessary evil.

You responded to let him know that you were awake and healed. You also provided a summary of the events and who was responsible before Nan got his ear. After tossing your phone on the counter, you climbed into the shower and scrubbed yourself clean which took longer than you liked. Only when the water ran completely clear did you shut it off. When you got out, you wrapped yourself in one of the robes on the back of the door.

The bed was empty when you opened the door to go back into the bedroom. You quickly dressed in a pair of black jeans with a red top and your boots. You fixed your hair as best you could without drying it. You simply didn’t have the time. When you left the bedroom, you found Eric and Godric both waiting for you along with breakfast.

Eric was by your side in a flash. “How are feeling?”

“Good, thanks to the both of you.” You hugged him and gave him a quick kiss before releasing him to eat.

“Hello, Godric,” you greeted with a smile. He merely smiled in return. “When are we meeting with Nan?”

“How did you…your father,” Eric said. “Ten minutes.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. Don’t tell her.”

“Are you not planning on attending?” Godric asked with a frown.

“Oh, I am, but if she realizes I’m there she’ll be on her best behavior. I’d rather catch the bitch causing trouble.”

Eric chuckled. “Should I even ask how you intend to keep her from seeing you?”

You pursed your lips. “Probably not.” You finished your breakfast and ducked back into the bedroom to grab your necklace. You slipped it on and smiled at the other two. “All right. Just don’t talk to me until I speak and we might be good to go.”

The amulet you wore had been gifted to you by a witch. It didn’t disguise you or anything, it simply made it more likely you’d be overlooked. The three of you arrived at the room where the meeting would take place. You stood along the wall in the shadows and kept your head down. Sure enough, Nan came into the room and her gaze moved right over you without pausing.

You smirked and pulled out your phone to hit record in case there was an issue later. Nan lied like it was crucial to her survival. Your father claimed that’s what made her so good at PR. He probably had a point. She didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything before she started in.

“Do you have any idea of the PR mess you’ve created? And who has to clean that shit up? Me. Not you. Me. I should drain everyone of you bastards,” she spat out. You rolled your eyes. As if she had the authority.

“Stan acted on his own. None of us had anything to do with the attack on the church,” Eric said.

“Oh, yes, because no one could have possibly predicted that Stan Baker would attack humans. Especially not his nest mates.”

“And how were we supposed to know that this time he meant it?” Isabel defended.

“Not my problem. Yours,” Nan said with a lifted brow and a glare at Godric.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the back of Nan’s head. Why was she always such a raging bitch? Couldn’t she talk to anyone with respect? And if she knew that Stan was a threat, why didn’t she take care of it? Her logic was flawed, as per usual.

Eric was apparently done with her shit as well. “Don’t talk to him that way.”

“Don’t talk to me that way. Do you enjoy being Sheriff? Because I can take it all away.” The arrogance in her voice pissed you off more than anything. Well, that and she was threatening your mate.

His lip curled in irritation. “You don’t have the authority.”

“I’m on TV try me.” She turned her attention to Godric. “How did they capture you?”

Godric’s gaze flicked to you and back to her. “They would have caught one of us eventually. I offered myself.” Oh, and didn’t that make your heart hurt. You suspected, but to hear him admit to it was too much. Eric’s face reflected your own thoughts.

“Why?” the bitch asked in disbelief.

“Why not?” your friend responded.

“They wanted you to meet the sun and you didn’t care?”

Godric simply stared at her without responding. Finally, Nan scoffed. “You’re fired.”

“You cold bitch,” Eric responded while Isabel tried to get Godric to fight for his position. You glanced at your phone and pressed an icon before sliding it back into your pocket.

“Listen, Viking—” she started until you stepped from the shadows and interrupted.

“Stan Baker was to blame for the attack on the church,” you said and Nan’s eyes went wide as she paled ever so slightly. Her gaze moved from you to where you’d been standing and back. She was wondering how the hell she had missed you being in the room. “He was killed in the subsequent attack on Godric’s private residence. The Authority was aware of the danger Stan posed and had already ordered his execution. The order unfortunately could not be carried out prior to the attack.”

Her jaw was tight and her eyes were cold. She didn’t like you any more than you liked her. “That’s your failing, not mine. Someone needs to take the blame and as Sheriff of the area, Godric is the best candidate.”

You took a step forward and narrowed your gaze. “You are a glorified mouthpiece. You don’t get to throw someone under the bus to make your job easier. The fucking humans don’t know about all this shit anyway. You’re supposed to find the truth, not make it up as you go along. You don’t get to decide if people live or die. You don’t get to threaten to take away someone’s territory for defending themselves or someone else. If you weren’t such a power hungry, raging bitch maybe they wouldn’t have to.”

“You don’t even work for the Authority anymore,” she said, but she sounded unsure. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re not doing your job, Nan. I literally moved from area to area to make sure everyone was doing their job. What makes you think you can get away with it if no one else can? Because there’s no one to dispute you? No way for anyone to tell the Authority what you did? And if they could why would they believe them over you, right?” You pursed your lips in thought before shaking your head. “You’re abusing your position. That pisses me off. It pisses me off even more when you do it to my friends. So, here’s how this is going to go. Godric, without admitting any culpability, resigns his position as Sheriff and will be relocating to Louisiana. Isabel will take over as Sheriff. She’s level headed and had nothing to do with any of this.”

She stood then, fists at her sides as she glared at you. Eric and Godric both stood as well, taking position behind you and to either side. “Who do you think you are? You can’t dictate to me.”

The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk as you pulled out your phone. “You’re absolutely right. But he can.” You handed her the phone and her face twisted into confusion. When your father started to speak her eyes darted back up to meet yours. She didn’t speak, only handing you the phone when she finished. You slid it back into your pocket.

Her eyes never left you though she spoke to the room as a whole. “Stan Baker is responsible for the attack on the church which caused the subsequent bombing. Godric holds no blame for any of the events that occurred. His resignation is accepted as is his relocation to Louisiana. Isabel Beaumont shall report to the king of Texas to be sworn in as the new Sheriff.”

She walked past all of you and out of the room. Once she was gone, everyone looked to you. Godric turned you to face him and laid a hand along the side of your face. “How did you accomplish that, little one?”

“I would like to know that as well,” Isabel echoed.

Eric smirked and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “She is Y/N. That is all you need know.”

#eric northman x reader #eric northman fanfiction #true blood fanfiction #eric northman x you #series #impossible

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i-need-air · 4 years ago

Note

Hello I really like your hybrid au especially with kirishima

I was wondering if I can request one with kirishima hybrid where reader gets kidnapped because someone from the old ring wants revenge and kirishima is looking for them

Wow, I took some time with this because it was hard to place Kiri in such a situation. I hope I gave it justice. This is not my usual fluff since it's a darker theme, so yeah. Hope it was worth the wait though! Enjoy and tell me if you liked it!! 💕💕

Word count: 4k [ I... I got carried away... and I still feel it's short 💀 ]

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, mentions of abuse, guns, Kiri's past being f'd up, insults [?], hint towards assault;

[ Masterlist ] [ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ]

× this man is all about safety

× asks you to send him a message whenever you arrive safely at home or wherever you're going

× it's super-sweet and really helpful; your well being is everything to him after all

× yet one evening you didn't arrive on time

× no message, nothing

× he was waiting and paying attention to time since he wanted to suggest going out to watch a movie, but you didn't arrive

× one hour later he finds himself frowning at the clock, tapping his foot in wonder

× he sent you a message; the fact that it send but you didn't receive it unsettled him more, to which he decided to call— "The phone you're trying to reach is disconnected or no longer in service."

× did you run out of battery? was that even possible?

× what seals the deal is a DM he receives from a throwaway account on social media he was so active and known on.

× "We've got your little toy. You know where to find us, Red Riot. Come alone or they die." and attached was a pictute of you, on the floor, possibly unconscious, hands tied behind your back.

× a collar was placed by your side; he knew what it was.

× his blood ran cold, a freezing shiver electrified through his spine as he jumped out of the couch, terrorized and more importantly raging mad

× Red Riot: a name he tried to forget; a name people shouted at him in praise as they put bets on his head; a name he's been given as he fought friends and foes; a name that brought back pain and suffering. A name he didn't want to taint his new life with.

× he did not take any time to leave the house in a hurry, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

× Kirishima didn't know where his friends were, so he found himself on his own, outside your apartment complex, taking a deep breath in; he could find you; he had to find you even if it was the last thing he did, yet he had to do it alone.

× he spotted your car in the parking lot— in a blink he was by it's side, just spotting your belongings inside and the car-keys still in

× uncontrollable rage took over him as he still sniffed your scent in the air.

× you've been here and because of him, now you weren't; you're gone; you've been attacked too, the window smashed and blood running down the door

× he sniffed again, noticing how it wasn't your blood— relief didn't come since he did recognize the other scent; his dealer.

× "You fucking mutt!" he growled above the red-haired man chained to the wall, fist closed readied to make impact.

× Kirishima growled lowly, remembering.

× "You fucking made me lose ten fucking grands because you didn't want to finish that fucking beast!" his screams could be heard throughout the hallways.

× He got inside the car.

× "You and your fucking group, you think you're too good to fucking follow MY ORDERS—" a crack could be heard as the punch collided with the hybrid's jaw, yet it did little to no damage to him. Curses followed, making the man almost chuckle, yet chose not to, knowing the damage it would bring. "YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF— I FUCKING BROKE MY HAND, SHIT!" he yanked him by the hair with his other hand, pulling hard. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born." And if it weren't for his improvised family, Kirishima would've been regretting that day anyway without his assistance.

× He sped off, fingers whitening on the steering wheel because of his harsh grip. Tears now ran freely on his cheeks with no conscious attempt made to be stopped.

× Only two places haven't been raided by the Hybrid Protection Services came to mind, deemed as abandoned yet for those that knew the insides, the buildings were definitely used mostly as hideouts and for special occasions

× few escaped from being detained by the police, yet word came to him that the bastard, Mawler as he liked to call himself, was caught; it didn't seem to be the case and as he drove, Kirishima could only think he'd make the fucker regret the day he was born; a bitter laugh left his lips, hating himself for a moment. Although the image of a friend came in his mind, imagining him slapping his back in a poor attempt to motivate him. That's what he would say too.

× the self-hatred washed off; for you he'd do anything.

× he rushed to the first location; it used to be a club with an underground arena, in which he himself fought in countless times

× his neck itched as he gritted his teeth; the memory of the electric collar they had to have on while almost killing each other made him want to vomit

× a deep growl left his frame; gutural, dark, menacing; they wanted the Red Riot? it seems they forgot where he really got that name from;

× he only saw blood on the way there.

× he parked not too far but tried to keep a low profile although his big frame didn't help in a stealth situation. Kirishima knew he's in for trouble, but what else could he do?

× —

× you blinked, blinded by the light that shined harshly in your face

× "Would you look at that, fellas? Guess who's wakin' up?" you had no time to panic, just flashes of the quick encounter just by your house appearing in your mind as a boot collided with your stomach, making you wince in pain

× What was going on? What the hell happened?

× "Aww, don't make that face..." someone mocked. "Save it for when Red Riot comes along, baby." he whispered harshly at you, venom in his voice.

× you muttered "—Riot?" in daze, placing your knees as close to your chest for protection; your head hurt badly, a throbbing pain coming from the back of it.

× laughed echoed around you; "He didn't fucking tell you? How much of a fucking BEAST he was?!"; other voices joined in... two more voices, but you couldn't be sure

× memories came back at you; how you were arriving late but decided to not send any message since you were driving; parking, gathering your stuff, the sound of crystal breaking—

× but nothing else;

× "You don't fucking know what your piece of shit of a mutt even did before acting like a perfect little boyfriend, didn't ya?" the same venom filled voice came closer to you, giving you the chance to finally see his ugly scowl and to imprint his stupidly face in your mind;

× were they talking about Kirishima? Your Kirishima? He never really got into detail about his previous life yet made it clear he was forced to fight for the entertainment of others— did they fucking think he had a choice?

× yet you remained silent; it seems Kiri knew you'd be there and your concussion didn't really help you to think straight and form any plan;

× something could be heard outside, a crash of some sort and everyone stood still for a good second.

× "He—... He's here already?" one of them whispered. A clicking made you freeze. You snapped your head up in terror, only knowing that sound from movies, a sound so scary you really didn't think you'd hear it in real life; guns.

× "I fucking send that message 20 minutes ago..." Ugly Scowl said, taken back in surprise. His eyes, dark and void of goodness snapped on you, an unsure smile painting over him. "I wanted to have some fun with ya."

× your body couldn't control the shiver that ran through it, from head to toes, and he noticed, turning his uncertain smile into a sadistic one; your face was probably a dead giveaway too.

× but Eijirou was there and deep down you knew there was nothing to fear; except for the guns.

× the red-head wasn't dumb, he knew this world a million times better than you, so he must've known; with a flood of nervousness piling up in your stomach, you blinked the stinging feeling in your eyes away and hoped for the best.

× "Go check that fucking sound, retards!" he then screamed, two sets of footsteps rushing at his orders; it seemed he was the "boss" of whatever the hell this small group of pieces of shit was and hated your boyfriend's guts.

× should you talk? should you not? what's the best possible outcome out of this?

× your wrists stung, locked harshly with what felt like a rope; in a poor attempt to move your fingers to feel if you could, in an ideal world, free your hands, the man caught your movements instantly; he yanked you by the neck, lifting you off the ground with no difficulty and that's when you noticed he was strong, muscular, big; his frame wasn't as massive as Eijirou's by any chance but massive enough to make you reconsider any attempt to escape. "Don't even fucking think about it, dear."

× his breath, foul and heavy, hit your face and you almost gagged; he was watching you, observing your face in search of something. Through a nod he hummed at himself.

× "Not bad, Riot." his nose hit your cheek as he breathed you in and a whimper left you, guts screaming danger; he snickered. "It's okay, I like them when they cry." he mocked your tears in a heavy whisper, which you didn't notice until he pointed them out.

× a snap could be heard from inside the building, possibly on the floor above; were you underground?

× the disgusting man by your side lifted himself up, throwing you on the floor like garbage. He lifted his gun and narrowed his eyes towards the stairs.

× "Be good and maybe I'll keep you for myself after I hunt your mutt down." he said between gritted teeth. You just started praying for the man you loved, still trying to figure out a way to at least hide before this scum used you as a threat more than he did already.

× —

× Kirishima watched them from the shadows; his breath was heavy yet silent, his enhanced vision saw the two low-life mobs he sometimes noticed following Mawler whenever he went; he took in consideration their stance; of course they'd bring weapons—

× his mind drifted to one of his trainers, EraserHead, and on the few moments of aloofness he let himself have around the younger ones put in his charge; "Humans are easily fooled—" he'd grin lazily. "And very easy to scare."

× with determination like he's never had before, he grabbed a rock; if he had to reach you, he'd have to do the only thing he was never good at: being stealthy.

× he rushed to the left of the back entrance, hidden behind a beaten up car as he threw the small rock in the opposite direction and in any other situation he'd find himself amused, EraserHead's words on replay in his mind. One of the guys almost jumped in place at the sound, gun fastly jerked into its general direction with trembling hands.

× with no second to spare, he entered the building, his speed impressive—

× no sound was made, but what helped him greatly was that one of them started talking into the nothingness; "We know you're there, you bastard!"

× the other one was now searching inside the building, yet his head turned towards his companion outside; sadly for the poor idiot, it only took a punch in the jaw to immobilize him and knock him out entirely. He took the guns from the now unconscious body and put them in his belt and pocket, yet had no intention to use any.

× the second one left outside was still talking a whole monologue, making the man sweat drop; was this Mawler's plan? he wasn't known to use his brain much...

× yet he wasn't as easy to take down as Kirishima wanted it to be; he turned around, probably uneased by the lack of response of his partner, suspicious and more on the edge; he could feel it, his nervousness, his fear; another bitter grin appeared on Eijirou's features.

× "Jackal?" his voice hid fear behind it.

× they definitely knew the damage he could do and the hybrid was glad they did, wanting them to be terrified, his predator instincts washing over.

× he jumped on him, kicking the pistol out of his hands in a heartbeat and making him stumble backwards, losing his balance; it happened in a blurr, old feeling of being in the ring, fist to fist, tail low and ready to pounce. He was in his element once again and God, he hated himself when he let go of all the pain and broke his arm, the sweet image of your smiling face as you burried yourself into the same arms he hurt people with always in the back of his mind.

× before he could realize, the other woke up from the knockout; he heard rushed steps towards him and a snapping sound. The blabbering idiot was on the ground now, breathing but beaten to a pulp and everything stood still for a good second.

× he got hit? in the back of his head? With just one glance he saw a broken wooden plank and blinked stupidly; did he seriously think—?

× Kirishima grinned and in an instant he grabbed Jackal's head and smashed it into his knee.

× —

× you could hear his steps; you knew it was him; heavy yet trying to conceal them poorly; your man was walking around the floor above and you sniffled your nose at the thought.

× he was absolutely massive and nothing about him was silent; gentle, yes, but silent? laughable. Even in this horrendous situation you closed your eyes lovingly at the thought. He's here.

× "Those damned fucking useless pieces of shit—" Oh, yeah. Him.

× the barrel was suddently pointed at your head and any thoughts you had abandoned your brain completely

× utter terror overwashed your senses in every way as you stared at it with wide eyes

× "Let's see if he fucking likes this—"

× —

× the only way down for the public was the stairway; not even those useless guards knew the hidden entrance his friends and him used once; they had to come back though, the guilt and knowledge that if they're found to be gone would make Mawler execute everyone else.

× a low window painted black that led to a storage room behind the filthy bathrooms and the place they'd be kept in cages; he ran on the first floor, approaching the stairs before jumping on the dusty metal bar, now completely silent and praying his poor attempt at a bait worked.

× in no time he was outside again and in even less of a second he found himself by said window leading to the underground arena.

× —

× "Maybe if I hurt you a little bit, he'll come to his senses." He grinned, gun's safety lever clicked, now pointed at your stomach.

× you saw your vision blurr and you really, really wanted to say something but didn't know what to; your lips trembled and you bit them in the hopes of showing at least some courage before getting shot but you couldn't help closing your eyes.

× the sound was so loud; an obnoxiously loud bang shook the room or maybe just shook you to the core, then warmth engulfed you wholly.

× it gripped into you so strongly yet no damage came; "I got you, baby." came as a whisper in your ear and just as you snapped your eyes to see his red, sweet, gorgeous red eyes look at you tenderly, he was gone.

× nothing was said; just a rush of screams and silence; your kidnapper tried to shoot again or so you saw but he was jumped on instantly; that's when you noticed Eijirou was growling like a wild animal and was covered with blood.

× he was like a hurricane, like a bulldozer, like an unstoppable force that destroyed with no mercy; covered in red and splatters due to his constant attacks just painted him with more of it;

× you were looking at Red Riot and your stomach dropped; this is what he was made to be and you cried when he did not stop beating the man underneath him.

× "Baby, stop—" you'd whisper, really trying to get up and barely making it to stay in a seating position, kinda desperate; and he indeed stopped at your plea, froze actually.

× the poor devil under him was groaning, gargling whatevers but it didn't matter; he was looking at you, shocked and you could see the fear in his eyes...

× was it bad that it didn't matter to you? as long as he didn't kill them, as long as justice got to them and furthermore kept Kirishima by your side forever, it didn't matter to you; it was instant, that thought.

× but as he stood there frozen, taking in your nerves and sudden relief, your crying face filled with worry; you took him in too... how his back was getting soaked in blood, running through his shirt down, and down, leaking...

× he got shot for you;

× "Please, leave him, help me and—" he turned a little, ashamed yet mute.

× like a scolded child, unsure; he was bleeding but he was scared of you; he had a hole in his back but he was hurting for your reaction.

× you sniffled again, getting on your knees, pain striking in your stomach but ignoring it; "Eijirou, come to me, please."

× and he did, all so gracefully, so fast and without a single wince; as if he knew pain more than he should've.

× your hands were instantly freed

× his silence killed you inside, it really did. This man, this amazing creature that beamed like the brightest star in the sky was now somber, dull...

× your phone was thrown on the floor as they tampered with it and you rushed, with trembling hands and uncertainty at his attitude to call the police; he was still to say anything, just staying on his knees in front of you, head low and teary eyes.

× he just muttered the location when they asked you about it but that's it; the operator asked questions yet you didn't care to answer them, just saying you need an ambulance too before closing the call to crawl towards him, taking his torso into your arms careful not to touch the wound on his back.

× he then cried harder into your neck, almost falling into your embrace, accepting it but his hands didn't move to touch you, laying unmoving on his sides.

× "I'm so—" he hiccuped. "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]." His frame was shaking more and more;

× "I love you, Eijirou." It's all you could say. Really, your brain just screamed for you to tell him that, as if you felt it's what he needed to hear the most.

× guilty; blaming himself; putting himself down;

× he shuddered into you as your hands, tired and sore, reached for his sweat soaked hair to stroke it gently.

× "You came for me. You saved me. Thank yo—"

× "Don't! It's all my fault—" his voice broke for a second, hands turning into fists and the only thing grounding him was your scent invading his nostrils. "You're hurt because of me..."

× you cried with him too, gluing his head more into you, peppering his face with shaky butterfly kisses.

× "It's not your fault, it was never your fault, Eijirou." you shook in place as you reassured him. Word by word, sentence by sentence, you let him know he's just as much of a victim being chased by his past, a past he was forced to have; he came for you, he rushed to save you, he took a bullet for you and yet again, he acted like it was nothing, as if the pain of putting you in danger was greater than any damage he could take.

× his hands encircled you and for the first time since you saw him after waking up to this nightmare, he winced in pain but did not let you go. Instead, he pressed your body into his, fearing you'd dissapear.

× you asked him if you should cover the wound, not really knowing what to do for now; you'd have time to talk, you'd have time to reassure him again and again and again, but now you had to make sure he was fine.

× he shook his head, feeling his nose tickle your neck in the process; "Leave it, I've taken worse." And with that statement you cried harder.

× the police sirens could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the ambulance one...

× —

× so much time passed; so many hours without sleep; police station, explanations, Kirishima almost getting arrested in the spot and being incarcerated, hospital, lawyers, more questioning...

× everything was explained, everything kinda settled for the never-ending day, knowing it wouldn't be the last time you'd have to visit said police station, already sure you'd follow Kirishima there without hesitancy to make sure he's treated correctly, but for now... home.

× the bullet didn't reach any vital organ even if he was hit square in the back and for a normal human it would've meant a hit in one of the lungs, but not for a hybrid—

× still, it didn't hurt less to see him in that state;

× your car was sealed and taken away as evidence, so a taxi home was your only way there.

× hands locked and much, so much to talk about ahead of you but one thing sure

× "I love you." You squeezed his hand, catching his attention, loving how his lips curled in a small smile, not as bright as usual, but still, his smile.

× "I love you more." Was his usual response yet this time it was shy, not looking into your eyes but somewhere behind you, out the window. You frowned and shook his hand to catch the attention fully.

× "No. You don't seem to get it." You led his big, strong, scarred hand to your lips, kissing the back of it softly. "I love you, Kirishima Eijirou. So much."

× the car ride was silent as he took in your words and you couldn't help but enjoy the way his eyes widened, now having his full attention as his cheeks reddened slightly, knowing he's been caught putting himself down.

× he let out a breathless chuckle, so small but with it his shoulders fell in relief. He nodded, watching his hand holding yours and gulped, your words repeating in a loop in his mind.

× Eijirou was so easy to read, so transparent and honest and it warmed heart to ser him accept your words, words you've said countless times before this incident and without a doubt in the future until they engraved permanently in his heart.

× he chuckled again at your expression, catching your gaze and holding it until a smile broke on his face, this time big and warm, just like him. The smile you wanted to see all along.

× he cried again through it, passing his free palm over his eyes for a second; "You're my everything, [Y/N]." he'd pull you into his chest, inhaling your scent. "I love you." he squeezed you close.

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #hybrid!kirishima #hybrid!au #noire writes #kirishima headcanons

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thestraggletag · 4 years ago

Text

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions.

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd.

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation.

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress.

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced.

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief.

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

“A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him.

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness.

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her.

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

#argoslight #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Roll for Initiative #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Rumbelle Gift Swap

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caesthetix · 4 years ago

Text

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 2 Extra Bread

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

"T-Thank you, sir!"

He stuttered out and bowed a little to the soldier who gave him five loaves of bread. Though the older man did not acknowledge his gratitude at all, instead he just sneered at him, making him flinch since he was reminded of the fact that this island filled with demons.

His long feet stride out from the line, wanting to get back to where his friends waited. Today it was his duty to get the food for his companions, and it needed all of his courage to utter how many people in his family were left when the soldier asked him.

Four, it was the right answer that he was supposed to say. But he couldn't help but stutter five instead. It had only been a few weeks after they breached the outer wall, Maria, and yet he still couldn't believe that it was only the four of them now.

Each of them was grieving. Annie would now scowl a lot and buried her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see the vulnerable look on her face. Reiner was different, he tried to act tough despite the nightmares that often accompanied him in his sleep. While him? He hid his sadness and pain deep inside his heart because he knew that someone suffered more.

You, you didn't talk at all for days as if you were just their shadows. Annie made sure that you were not hurt when he and Reiner crushed the gate. And even though you were not uttering any words, you could do your task ideally without a hitch, and that was to sneak inside with battered clothes, acting like a child who lost everything.

But maybe you were indeed lost everything, that was what he thought when he saw you just staring into spaces without any expression on your face. The bubbly and warm person that he met back then in Marley was nowhere to be found at this point and he hoped that someday he could meet her again.

When his pale green eyes fell to the familiar strands of your hair, he started to run, wanting to give you the bread for today since the sun was up for hours yet no one ate anything just yet. The shelter where all of them were hiding was an abandoned barn just outside the main city, no one knew who the owner of it was, but when Reiner found it empty, they decided to use it as a temporary house.

They just needed to survive for a few years and they could enroll in the military after that. But now they had to make a plan about what they should do in the meantime. Now they were just four orphans who lost everything from wall Maria. A few days ago a soldier gave them a form to fill out, consisting of some questions about names, birth, and the residence they used to live in before.

And that was the first time he heard your voice after weeks wallowing yourself in silence. When Marcel was alive, he told you that you needed to change your last name. Just for a disguise, it was the safest option because who would have expected if someone knew the weight of your name.

"No." You whispered out, one hand scribbling down the paper to write your name. "I am not going to lose my identity. No." There was a lingering pain in your voice that everyone could notice. "I will do anything, Reiner, but not this. This is my last name and I will lose it if someone takes it away from me."

The blonde frowned when he heard your rebellion, you seemed fine when Marcel asked you to do that back then, but now you changed your mind and he wished he knew the words that could sway you. You continued to write down your information without stopping while the boys stared at you with wonder.

Annie knew that you couldn't be forced to do something that you wouldn't do, so she just shrugged it off and focused on her paper, not wanting to spend her time filling forms if she could do it fast. She really thought Reiner would drop it after hearing your statement, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop.

"Hey, but Marcel would tell you to do the same."

Bertolt could imagine his friend getting beaten up again at this point. But this time not from Annie, instead, he would get it from you who was now gripping so tight on the pencil that he was afraid you would stab the armoured titan inheritor on the neck with it.

"That's the thing, Braun." You gritted your teeth, avoiding yourself for kicking him on the face. And when the poor boy heard you called him by his last name, he knew that he was done for good. "Marcel is not here anymore, and you are not Marcel."

Bertolt made a note on his head that he would never want to get on your bad side. He felt a shiver down his spine at that time when you completely disregarded Reiner, and those words were not even for him. He couldn't imagine what his friend felt, must be hell for sure.

"Hey, I-I got the food for us today." Stopping on his track right in front of you. You were currently cleaning up the dust on the window, he recalled you said that you despised dirty windowpane last night, and he raised his eyebrow since he wondered how you got some clothes to clean it up with.

"Thank you, Bertolt." You gave him a soft smile, and from just that gesture he could feel his cheek burning from — goodness, he didn't even know what he was feeling right now. "Oh? You got five? How?" He was still in a trance when you threw the question, making him baffled for a second there.

"I said that there were five members in my family." He averted his eyes, ashamed to confess that to you. That and the fact he would see the sadness inside your eyes if he did so."I didn't mean to, really, b-but I only realised it after the soldier gave the portion to me."

"Oh, Bertolt." You let out a long sigh and grabbed two pieces of bread from his hand. "You know you could correct yourself after that, right?" He knew that you were scolding him, but with how soft your voice was, he just accepted it, not even once trying to correct himself. "I will give it back to the soldier, okay? You go inside, Reiner and Annie are waiting for you."

"But shouldn't you eat first?" He was concerned for sure, and despite knowing the fact that you could handle this harsh world by yourself, he was not sure if it was the right choice to let you go alone. "I can drop this off to them and I can accompany you, right?"

You chuckled at this, and his pupils widened at that since it was the first time you expressed some kind of joyful gesture since Marcel's incident. Your eyes closed as you chuckled at him, he didn't know what he did to make you like this but his brain short-circuited to even think about it. He just stood there with mouth agape, enjoying the pure, melodious giggle that slipped from your mouth.

"Bertolt," And how much he loved his name rolled down your tongue was uncanny. "It's okay, I will eat mine on the way. And I can handle myself, I am going to be back before you know it! You don't have to be concerned about me." You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his body went rigid at that. "See you later, tell the others where I am going, okay?"

He was too frozen in the spot even when you already strolled down the street with the loaves of bread in your hand. There was no time for him to answer you, and he felt like all the words were stuck in his throat. You just touched him, that was the only thing that he could process right now.

Yes, it was nothing special since you always held Pieck's hand back then or gave a pat to the other warrior candidates (especially Porco, for as long as he remembered even though the boy seemed to dislike your presence and unfazed by it), but to him, feeling your touch like that was everything.

It gave him some kind of boost, maybe it was the warm tingle that he felt whenever you were around or the fact that your existence just screamed comfort — he didn't know exactly what caused him to treasure your touch. What he knew for sure that in the end, he enjoyed your company.

"Oi, Bertolt! Why are you standing there like a statue?!"

"S-Sorry, Reiner—"

〄

The wind caressed your hair as you wandered down the street, turning left and right to the alleyway that would lead you to the plaza. This place had been your home for a few weeks now, and you started to enjoy living here, greeting some people here and there despite how many times Reiner told you not to.

They would ask, of course, where you were from. And you always answered it without hesitation, without a pause, as if the one who talked was an entirely different person with how you always lost all the light in your face when you gave them your answer. They would sympathize, and you took their pity and kept acting it out.

You had a different approach in this mission compared to the other warrior. While they decided to keep a low profile, you were going all out and showed yourself as a victim from the fall of wall Maria. Lots of benefits coming your way with how some adults asked you to move in with them or offering you a job so you could fend for yourself.

Their offers were always so sweet, but you didn't want to leave your friends inside a cold barn with nothing to lay on except the pile of hay. You always ended up cuddling with Annie, not caring that she wanted to kick you on the face at first for not giving her enough space, she ended up liking to sleep in your embrace days after that, so for you, it was all worth it.

Maybe though, their offer about working for them could help you. There were some of them and you sure at least one of the jobs had good earnings. You could buy food for your friends if that was the case, all of you didn't have to rely on free food anymore. And so, you decided that you would go to the adult near the plaza after this, asking if the offer was still up.

"I am sorry! It was already late and there was only one bread left for us!"

Your ears caught the distressed tone that came from the alleyway near you. The plaza was empty now since it seemed like the ration already finished for the day. To know that a lot of people couldn't even have one bread to eat made your stomach churned with guilt and anger for yourself.

"It's alright, Armin. We can share it."

"Yeah, it's not like I eat a lot anyway."

There were three of them, three children that looked like they were the same age as you, and they only got one piece of bread for the whole day. Knowing that the soldier was not there anymore and the commotion already dispersed, you decided to give the bread to them instead.

Your tiny feet waddled toward them, they were currently deep in thought about how to divide the food fairly. And you were thankful that you haven't eaten your fair of bread, so now each of the kids could have one.

"Excuse me," You interrupted their discussion, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to face you. Two of them looked at you with confusion while the other one had her eyes filled with caution. "I am sorry, I heard about your problem before, and I have two extra pieces of bread that you guys could take."

The two boys, one with blonde hair and the other with short dark brown hair — looked at each other without saying anything. It was like they had this kind of bond, talking through their minds before giving each other a nod. Maybe they were debating if it was alright to accept your hospitality or not.

"It's fine, but is this bread really alright for us to take?" The boy with the ocean blue eyes spoke up, taking one step forward to your figure. "What about you then, have you eaten yet today?"

"Yes, it's fine. If not, I am not going to offer it in the first place." You gave him a gentle smile before answering his next question a little bit too quickly to your liking. "Don't worry about me! I already got breakfast before and ate mine. You don't have to think—"

"You are lying." The girl that had been silent the whole time suddenly cut your sentence. "Don't tell me I am wrong because I am sure that I am right." She didn't sugarcoat her words at all, and you couldn't understand anymore if her words mean good or bad. Because surely her onyx orbs looked at you as if you were a threat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing that you couldn't lie anymore with how sharp the three of them were. But this fact wouldn't stop you from wanting them to take your fair.

"Well, yes, I haven't eaten." Surrendering yourself to honesty, you continued. "But I am going to be fine, an adult in this shop near the plaza offered me a job and food, so I could get it from them after this." You explained truthfully, handing them the bread thereafter.

"Then how come you had extra bread in the first place?" The short-haired boy now squinting his eyes, wanting to understand your hidden motive in case there were any. "You had one for yourself too despite knowing that you could get food from this adult you told us about. So why should we trust you?"

"Eren!"

Ah, so the boy's name is Eren. You thought, couldn't believe that someone would even doubt the others for giving free food. But then again, you couldn't blame them for being extra cautious. No one knew what could happen inside these walls. The worst-case scenario from this was that you poisoned them to get rid of another life to prevent any more hunger.

"You don't have to trust me, of course." You answered him with a soft and calm tone, something that you learned from your house back in Marley. That even when someone raised their voice at you, you needed to handle them with care. "My friend was the one who got the food from me, and he didn't check that he got extra food, so I am here with the first mission to give it back to the garrison soldier."

You gave them the answer that they want, both hands still pushed forward, waiting for them to take it. "Promise I wouldn't disturb you anymore, I just want to make sure you guys get enough food. That's all."

There was a long silence engulfing the four of you. That was until the blonde took the bread out of your hand and gave you a smile of gratitude, which you answered with the same gesture as him. The other two were now looking at you with a softened gaze, finally stripping away their caution towards you.

"I am sorry that I sounded rude before." The brunette started, giving you a cheeky smile as his ears tinted with a pinkish hue. "I just need to be careful around strangers, everything just messed up at this time, you know?" He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening as if a terrible memory fleeting through his mind for a second.

"It's fine. I know where that thought is coming from." You kicked the pebbles near your foot before, making it bounce to the wall as you looked down. "Everything is just a nightmare after the breach." And you tried so hard not to break down, not in front of anyone, especially those who were the victim of your action. "All of you — didn't deserve any of it."

Your voice that was so warm and comforting before now turned into a completely different tone. There was sadness, at least that was what they could hear from you. They couldn't see the expression in your eyes since you persisted in looking down at your feet, avoiding their gaze at all cost.

"And you didn't deserve it too."

The blonde, that if you recalled from before was called Armin, telling you words that you thought you wouldn't need to hear. "No one wanted this to happen, no one deserved to live like this." He continued, and you were ready to crumble even more. "But this is our life, for now, so we can't do anything else but move on."

You wanted to get down on your knees, hugging his legs as you begged for forgiveness. Just like what you saw in some of the memories from your ancestors, there were just normal human beings inside these walls. Just like in Marley, just like on the other continent, there were good and bad people, and nothing differentiated them except the fact that they had a titan's blood flowing inside their veins.

Nothing else but that — and the dangerous truth that lies within the walls.

"It's called rumbling, right?"

Just one month from now, you were going to inherit the war hammer titan, and you have been studying a lot, reading the journal that your ancestor wrote. The book was so helpful, preparing you to know the truth that this world had to hide. Sometimes your twelve years old brain could not even understand it.

The past few years you had been training hard privately. You got the best instructor, honing your mental and physical build at the same time. But since you reached the age of ten, your father introduced you to Commander Magath who was in charge of the Warrior Unit, the unit for those titan inheritors.

And you trained with them ever since then. Creating a bond and friendship to those who would fight alongside you in the upcoming battle. The majority of them were easy to talk with like Marcel, Pieck, Zeke, Reiner, and Bertolt. While the rest — not so much.

Annie was fine though, she still talked to you here and there and taught you about some certain techniques of hand-to-hand combat that you deemed remarkably useful. Porco on the other hand, you wanted to grimace at the interaction that you had with him. Yet despite all that, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling for just thinking about him.

But this moment was not the right time to reminisce about the warrior training, not when a few months from now, you would embark on a mission to reclaim the founding titan.

"Yes, when the founding titan decided to unharden the walls and released millions of colossal titan, it was called rumbling." Your father sat across from where you were, filling out papers from the military about you. "If that happened, the whole world would turn into nothing."

You gave a nod of acknowledgement, fingers tracing the ink that seeped on the worn-out paper journal.

"So it was risky to let the founding titan stay in Paradis since no one knew if someday they would activate the rumbling or not." You stated the sentence as a matter of factly, absorbing the information that sometimes made your head pound. "It was risky since they closed themselves inside those walls and no one knew what happened there."

"Yes, my dear." His voice cracked like any other time, having so much burden for throwing you to the frontline of the battle like that. You, his little star, his precious daughter that he never wanted to turn her into a war machine that could only live for thirteen years. "That is why you need to prevent it from happening."

But it was something that needed to be done — and there was nothing that you could do except embracing the cruel truth like an old friend.

"Yes, you are right." Fixing your composure, you were back to the kind girl from before. "Thank you for telling me that, I think I need it." You chuckled softly, fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind the ear. "I-I will go now, then. Hope all of you survive and continue on living!"

Bowing yourself a little before departing (a trait that you couldn't shake off that easily), you waved at them and turned your heels, walking away from the three children that you really hoped would have a beautiful life ahead, for as long as they could have.

"Wait!" But you halted your feet to move forward when you heard Eren's voice calling out for you.

"Yes? What is it?" You were still not that far from them, so you decided to use your normal volume as if they were still right in front of you.

"We haven't got your name!" Yet despite how calm you were, the boy seemed to choose to shout at you anyway. "I am Eren! This is Armin and Mikasa, they are everything that I had left! Now, what's yours?!"

Hearing how excited he was made you giggle, such a complete opposite for real compared to him a few minutes ago when he looked at you with caution. Now he became the child he was supposed to be, with a wide grin on his face as he just wanted to know the name of his probably new friend.

And so you indulged him with it, answering his question with a clear and solid tone.

"It's (Y/n)!" You decided to shout back, equaling his enthusiasm. "(Y/n), (Y/n) Tybur!"

Paradis Citizen(s)

↪@yumaryko @may-machin @cuteissei

↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #Jean Kirschstein #jean kirschtein fluff #bertholdt hoover #attack on titan bertholdt #bertholdt x reader #bertolt x reader #Bertolt Hoover #porco galliard x reader #attack on titan porco #porco galliard imagine #aot imagines #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk imagines

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mondayrobot · 4 years ago

Text

120-Day Fanfiction List (G)

A collection of my recommended Eren/Mikasa fanfictions for the first one-hundred and twenty days of the year.

Rating: General Audiences

a gilded world by infinitesimalll

The world was cruel. It was cold. Nearly everyday those words flowed through her mind, often accompanied by traumatic experiences.

All The Things Between You and Me by iRememberTheDark @irememberthedark

In most situations, Mikasa takes what she can get, especially where Eren, her...her...whatever he was to her, was concerned, and she was more than willing to let that pattern continue. Too bad life was so adept at kicking her out of her comfort zone.

"What am I to you?"

Mikasa asks a simple question and the world tilts.

Bad Idea by fevversinherhair

Like all bad ideas that passed between them, pretending to be dating at his brother's wedding was 100% Eren's.

Call out my name by Gcf_khaleesi

Ever since he brought her back into paths he knew that this would be the last time, he knew that he wasn't getting out of this what he was doing out there alive and she knew it as well.

canvas by orphan_account

there’s a familiarity in that question, the same one that comes along with the unspeakable way she smiles.

Cruel Decisions by solsun

The public now knows the truth of the outside world and who they are. The impending threat. No matter what, they must survive. Eren struggles with the colossal responsibility he believes he bears, the weight of an entire nation in his hands. He searches for a way to ground himself while keeping his principles intact.

demands by infinitesimalll

In all honesty, Eren hadn't expected Mikasa to take his offer after they had faced the titan who killed his mother and Hannes. It was something he said in the heat of the moment, when he was determined to survive.

for you, 2000 years later by aenar_thedragonlady

life seemed normal, as it always was but she wasn't aware of something, or rather, someone, who's been waiting for 2000 years.

fuel to my fire by aenar_thedragonlady

Being the princess of a powerful kingdom and with a legendary bloodline, Mikasa came to terms with how she was born and raised a conqueror in her father, family and kingdom's name. But when her conquest led her to Eren, a solitary king hidden in his domain far north in the mountains, she knew things could never go back to how they were.

Will she extinguish all the fires she never knew she had?

Or will she add more fuel to the flames?

ghost out of his grave by simplyhumann

At first glance, one might even think this is his glimpse of heaven. To come home to her in death, like how he always wanted to when he was alive.

It was anything but that. This was his punishment, Eren knew. To have a front row seat to the way he ruined the woman he once loved— no— still loves— and all the consequences that came after it.

hallucinating by enchantingoats

Mikasa knew it was undoubtedly her drug-addled subconscious longing for a second reunion with better odds.

Still, she wanted to touch him.

home by infinitesimalll

"in this world, i've got a place to go home to."

I’ll Take Care of You by Queenzie

When Mikasa falls sick, Eren decides that for once he needs to look after her.

Long Dream by wallmaria

“What am I to you?” Eren had suddenly said. Mikasa was again taken aback by his question. She looked at Eren’s face, there were no hints of shame when he said it, when he’s practically asking her to bare herself before him… She felt her heart pound loudly in her chest… She felt embarrassed to say the truth, but Eren also seemed to look distraught and expectant as Mikasa stammered.

not so strong after all by infinitesimalll

After a patrol in the freezing cold rain, humanity's second strongest has come down with the common cold.

Now and Forever by connectedfeelings @connectedfeelings

Waking up from a strange dream, Mikasa experiences odd visions throughout the day, all of a man and of a red scarf. Everyone leaves her with a strong sense of melancholy. Who is he? And why has he been in her mind all day? Perhaps she could ask him. Because his scarf just landed on her face, and she can't help but feel like the universe is telling her something.

New Year by Ilucida

The New Year celebration in Hizuru style was different.

remember a day we dreamt by Violea

Let's live the rest of our lives peacefully. Just the two of us.

return to me, the you of 2000 years ago by rilakkuma5 @uhhstar

Eternal return is a concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

Simpler Times by wamomo

Three moments in which Eren doesn't regret leaving and one in which he does.

some place to be at peace by bacondestiny

He remembers the feeling of his head exploding off his body and the earth quaking before him under the weight of millions of titans on the march, remembers the awful ruin and the craters and the puddles and the charred remains as he crawled after them on hundreds of ribs--but all of that is so far away. It’s so far away that he’ll never see it again. All he can see is Mikasa, smiling up at him.

It doesn’t matter what’s flowing through his veins or lurking in his bones or rattling around in his head. What matters is what he has in his arms.

sparkling green by maketea @rosekasa

mikasa wakes up to find eren has done all the work for her.

The hellfire called love by septembersnotes

I hold us together, our lives, our pitiful youth, our days under the sun- shard by shard.

The Red String of Fate by hunnyB

Alone and defeated, Eren sighs and sinks back on the bench, eyes flickering up on Mikasa's seemingly frail frame as she sleeps soundlessly beneath the white bedsheets. He stares at the peacefulness transpiring through her face, glossed lips parted gently, raven hair splayed across the pillow, and thin long eyelashes casting shadows over her cheeks, giving off an extremely pleasant sight to lie eyes upon.

A sight that Eren has always had nearby but never sought, never once stopped to admire.

they are the prey by bacondestiny @inbothourhandsgloria

Eren does not want to be here.

It is sunny and warm and the birds are singing, today is the kind of day that should be spent running through the streets and splashing in the creek. He could be helping Mama with errands or Daddy with mixing medicines or Zeke with the goats. But no. Now he has to stand in this stupid line with Zeke so he can go to school. It’s terrible.

Through the Night by Diphy_D

It’s through the night when Eren’s mind doesn’t stop thinking while his hands don’t stop tracing the profile of the sleeping woman who rests at his side. The boy loses his faith and sinks alone.

And it’s through the night too when Mikasa's sweet touch calms his demons.

“We'll be free. The two of us, just wait”.

To You, 2000 Years From Now. by fetching

“You were dreaming again. What was it about?” He asks, smiling at her.

It takes a great effort not to cry.

This is it. This is home.

“Home,” She breathes. “I was dreaming about coming home.”

to you, at world’s end, a promise by AdelineVW7

She has never been one to sleep deeply, so Eren moves with deliberate gentleness. With only the tips of his fingers he caresses the dark hair splayed upon the pillow, all the while watching the rhythm of her breathing, the flitting movement of a dream beneath her eyelids.

viva la vida by zeninclan

"Mikasa, what am I to you?"

She looked down at him as the crowd watched them, standing face to face.

A soft blush spread across her skin as she stared back at him for a moment, wind pushing through their hair as they stood in silence. They had been friends since childhood. He knew everything about her, and she did the same for him.

"Family," was the answer she landed on. She cursed herself that night for not answering him honestly.

Since then, something had changed in Eren.

Warmth by ApplePapelProductions

His body, against yours. So close, so safe, the bite of the cold, the closeness of death, did not matter. Even in this fleeting moment, only to last a second, it meant more than the entire world. More than the remainders of humanity. More than the world beyond the walls. More than you could have ever imagined, no matter how many times you prayed for it to happen.

It would end soon. Maybe one day, he could tell you that he loved you, too. But until then, this was enough.

when you move I move with you by SapphireOcean

An unrequited crush comes back into Eren's life in an unusual way.

would have married you by enchantingoats

But truly it was beyond that. She was precious to him above all else, and though it was hard to put his finger on the feeling, this attachment, it had to be what they called love.

You can also check out: 2020 Eremika Fanfiction Masterlist

#eremika #writing #fanfiction

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thelastenvoyyy · 3 years ago

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Can you tell me the story of Jett Jhazar? The star and and face of the envoy legacy.

Ahhhh yessssss, Jett. Jett, Jett, Jetty. My pretty thick bloo floof boy. Where do I start with thisss??

A strong Force-user since he was a cub, Jett Jhazar was recognised by the Clan Mother for his potential to be a great Jedi Knight. As soon as he was old enough, he was sent to Tython to train. Though he showed great prowess with the Force, he struggled to temper himself given his hot-blooded Cathar nature and a genetic disorder that raises his hormone levels during his rakktarr (mating cycle).

Though far from an outcast, this led to an insecurity that everyone was secretly afraid of him, especially those who were non-Cathar. But even for his own species, we was unusually tall and incredibly muscly. This made him ideal for fighting in a battle against the Sith but it inhibited his chances at mastering his own impulses, like a true Jedi.

In an effort to help him, Master Ghost Dural sent him on a pilgrimage across Tython to reach an ancient temple and retrieve the artefact that lay within its walls. Jett gladly took up the challenge as it involved a week wandering in the wilderness with only his survival skills to rely on. As a natural predator on his homeward, this was no problem for Jett.

He was not, however, expected to be told that he was forbidden to use his lightsaber. Neither was he allowed to harm any wildlife that crossed his path, even if they tried to hurt him too. The exercise was designed to help reign in his instincts and resort to non-violent means as a way to retrieve the artefact. It would know if he had killed another living thing in his quest to retrieve it.

So, Jett faced his trial and, though he struggled to keep himself in check, he passed and was granted the title of Jedi Knight. This was a great moment for him, however it was tempered with the knowledge that, had he been under the full effect of his rakktarr, he might not have passed and he would still be an apprentice.

Regardless, he left Tython and travelled to Ord Mantell where he would help the Republic effort against the Empire and the Mantellian separatists.

This would continue for a few months until he was summoned to Coruscant by the Jedi Council to assist in a diplomatic mission. The mission involved reducing the presence of high-profile criminal cartels, such as Black Sun, in the lower levels of the ecumenopolis.

Unfortunately, Jett arrived just as his rakktarr cycle was about to begin and had a hard time adjusting to the city world as well as the unexpected mission. Hence begins the events of my fan fiction, Mastery, which you can read on Ao3 here [x].

During the events of the story, Jett meets the SIS agent, Theron Shan, for the first time and the two end up falling for each other. Hard. Together, they embark on a mission to stop a clandestine anti-alien terrorist group from ripping the Republic asunder. It is, without a doubt, the most trying period of Jett's life, yet he emerges from the other side, damaged but still alive.

He also makes a few gains. As well as making Theron officially his mate, he earns the title of Jedi Master and holds better knowledge on how best to control his more bestial nature.

But Jett and Theron's story is far from over! In the years following the events of Mastery, they spend as much time as they can in each other's company. While a dark time for the rest of the Republic, the Shadow of Revan arc proves to be fruitful for them both as they spend the most time with each other than they ever had.

At one point soon after this, both venture to Cathar to perform a secret union ceremony so that they can officially call themselves husbands. Theron is hesitant at first but comes to understand just how deeply in love he is with Jett and the two of them celebrate beneath the baking Cathar sun.

It is when the war against the Eternal Empire breaks out when things become more difficult. Sworn to his duties as an intelligence officer for the Alliance, Theron finds himself unable to spend as much time with Jett as he wishes. Jett is still a Jedi, fighting on all fronts to prevent the order from extinction.

Despite this, Jett wants to run away with Theron, to head to some unknown planet on the other side of the galaxy where there is no war, no Jedi or Sith. As detailed in A Parsec Apart, which again you can read on Ao3 [x] he grows so frustrated over this in his correspondence with Theron that he lashes out.

He quickly apologises to his lover, however, and though the two of them are light years away from each other, they continue their relationship and do their best to balance it with the duties which have been bestowed upon them.

#swtor #swtor ocs #star wars #star wars the old republic #oc: jett jhazar #theron shan #cathar #jedi knight #Cathar ocs #Theron thursday

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reyescarlos · 4 years ago

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Prompt list: Tarlos + 61? ✨

this was one is so sweet!

#61 “I love it when you laugh.”

Early mornings have never really been TK’s thing. All too often on his days off, one could expect to find him clinging to his pillow a bit longer, burrowing in more deeply beneath his blankets as he rested soundedly. It’s a rare occurrence to wake up now and find that the sun has barely hitched itself over the horizon and Carlos, breathing softly beside him, is still fast asleep.

TK relishes in the silence now, the call and response of birds outside, the gentle tread of tires as a car drives past. The world is already coming to life around him but nothing outside of these four walls truly matters to him now.

He shifts slightly in bed, careful not to disrupt Carlos. With his head squarely on his pillow, TK turns his head to the right and studies Carlos' profile. He takes in the plane of his cheek, the curve of his lips, and the slope of his nose. The expanse of Carlos’ back is bathed in morning light that streams through the window, the curtains pushed aside. TK lifts a hand, watching the shadow it cast against Carlos’ skin. He smiles to himself and lowers his hand, drawing in a breath.

He can’t help but to wonder what Carlos is dreaming about now. The man’s face is so serene, so unbothered that TK, at least, can conclude it’s something pleasant.

All he can do is stare, watch in awe of the mechanics at play here with the breaths he takes, the steady rise and fall of his body. TK reaches out a hand hesitantly, unable to stop himself from gently cupping Carlos’ face. The man’s eyes flutter for a moment as TK strokes the apple of his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Carlos’ eyes open slowly, landing right on TK.

TK smiles shyly at him. Carlos blinks twice and TK drops his hand, pulling it back to his side of the bed. Carlos rubs at his eye and yawns with a shudder, shaking off the last bits of fatigue and peering over at TK.

“Were you watching me this whole time?” Carlos muses.

“It was supposed to be romantic. Now I just feel like a total creep.”

Carlos lets out a laugh, a deep one that seemingly starts in the pit of his stomach and branches out, rattling his shoulders. His eyes crinkle at the corners, a wide smile plastered on his face. Carlos’ joy practically makes him glow, the early morning sunlight only adding to that. It’s enough to take TK’s breath away, enough to leave him speechless.

This image before him now is arguably the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Carlos’ face is still soft with sleep, his curls unruly and yet somehow so perfect.

He can’t help but to stare, his heart tightening in his chest. Carlos is just so beautiful, so unbelievably open now. It makes TK always want to strive to see him like this, to keep this uninhibited smile on Carlos’ face and ensure his happiness. Inevitably they’ll have to leave this bed and join the rest of the world. But these few precious moments here belong solely to them.

This is far more than TK could have expected to get his hands on in life. It feels as if he’s somehow woken up into a dream.

“What?” Carlos asks, his smile fading slowly as he looks back at TK. His eyes remain bright, expect even.

“Nothing. I just...I love it when you laugh.”

TK shakes his head and looks down, brows furrowed. “Maybe that’s a dumb thing to say but I just— seeing you like that, it makes me happy. And all of this,” he says, gesturing to the bed around them. “Getting to this point with you, I don’t know. These last few months have been amazing.”

To think of where he was just before coming to Austin, barely clinging to life on his living room floor, so unsure that his life had meaning with what he thought was his future being torn away from him. It’s so hard to look back on his last few days in New York. If only he could have known what was in store for him in Texas, that this man and this life overall was around the corner.

But TK has had time to ponder the what-ifs of it all. This road certainly wasn’t easy but the contentment he’s discovered in Austin has been truly unmatched. Between his co-workers and now this tight bond with Carlos, TK feels like a different person entirely.

Gone now are the days of feeling trapped in a world devoid of feeling and color. Here now he’s able to live so boldly and vibrantly.

He had held on so stubbornly to an inaccuracy, believing it to be true, needing it to be real. Alex was a pit stop. Carlos was his destination.

Carlos smiles at him, leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose.

“They’ve been pretty spectacular for me too.”

TK can’t help but to grin at this.

“Thank you for choosing me. You didn’t have to but you did anyway.”

Carlos adjusts himself, propping up his arm to rest his head on his hand.

“My heart will always choose yours. It picked you before I even realized what was happening.”

TK closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Carlos’. He stays still, simply breathing him in, taking comfort in the warmth of his body so close to his. For so long TK has felt as if he’s been begging to be loved, to be seen, to be wanted. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Carlos sees him fully and accepts him just as he is. Such a thing is rare, especially to look back at someone else’s heart and see everything yours desires staring back. And yet, that’s exactly what he has now, right in the palm of his hand.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you,” he says quietly.

“I fully support this plan,” Carlos muses, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Carlos runs his fingers down his back and TK can feel goosebumps appear on his skin. He shivers at his touch, gasping softly. Carlos smiles slyly and leans in closer, pressing his mouth fully against his. TK's arms drape over his shoulders, pulling Carlos in as tightly as he possibly can, relishing in the warmth of the morning sun and his boyfriend in his arms.

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #kimmy writes

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cheri-translates · 5 years ago

Text

[CN] Victor’s Phantom Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Dedicated to Victor’s lovely @litteidiot 🌹🥰

The date begins with MC in Victor’s office to present her weekly report. While waiting for him to return from a meeting, she thinks about how she plans to invite Victor to a dinner event.

This event includes a fashion show, and has been organized as a collaboration between MC’s company and a magazine company.

While she’s thinking, she falls asleep on the sofa.

Victor: MC? Wake up…

I wave my hands impatiently, wanting to chase away the pesky voice at my ear.

Victor: Looks like you don’t need to give a report for your proposal.

MC: !! I’m awake! I wasn’t sleeping!

MC takes out her documents.

Victor: Hair.

MC: Hm?

Seeing my puzzled expression, Victor reaches over to the top of my head, and presses down the hair that’s standing up.

Victor: You can begin now.

After she presents her report, Victor nods.

Victor: Not bad this time.

MC: That’s great!

I release a huge sigh of relief at the rare praise. Only now do I have the mood to think of a new goal.

MC: Victor, are you free this Saturday?

I secretly hold the invitation card that was sandwiched in between the documents in my hand, prepared to hand it to him once he responds.

Without giving it much thought, Victor answers.

Victor: I have to attend a Finance Talk on Saturday. What’s happening on that day?

MC: Oh… nothing! I was just asking.

I shake my head, quelling the disappointment in my heart, and stuff the invitation card back amongst the documents.

Victor seems to have noticed that I’m hiding something, but he doesn’t press further.

On the day of the event, stress levels are high. After checking the flow of the event yet again, MC finally relaxes a little and decides to send Victor a message.

MC: You can come over to the dinner event if you still have time after the talk!

Even though I didn’t invite Victor in person, I still sent an invitation card to LFG on behalf of the company. However, I’m unsure if Victor saw it.

After pressing the “send” button, I hold onto my phone and wait for a response. As the minutes and seconds trickle by, the disappointment in my heart swells.

MC: Maybe phones aren’t allowed in that venue.

I find random excuses for Victor. At this moment, Anna walks over frantically.

Anna explains that the mystery guest they planned to have as the finale model just met with an accident. Anna insists that MC replaces her.

After a full makeover, MC gets stunned by her own reflection in the mirror.

The person in the mirror is wearing a glittering silver dress which outlines her good figure. A white mask covers half of her face, revealing seductive red lips. She looks extremely foreign.

I suddenly feel a little glad that Victor didn’t come.

In the resting area of the venue, Victor looks at the message on his phone and freezes in place.

Victor: Did MC’s company recently organize any dinner events?

He turns to Goldman and receives an answer.

Soon, an elegant champagne-coloured invitation card is placed in his hands.

Seeing the neat handwriting on the card, a smile flashes in his eyes.

Back at the dinner event, MC feels incredibly nervous. She notices that everyone looks similar because they’re all wearing masks.

However, I see an extremely familiar profile with just a sweep of my eyes.

--What is he doing here?!

My eyes widen, and I mess up the actions I had rehearsed earlier.

That tall man standing near the window and wearing a black mask – who else could he be if not Victor?

I try to maintain my cold posture, but my line of sight involuntarily falls to him. My earlier nervousness is completely forgotten.

Victor looks as though he just arrived at the venue, standing against the window and facing the stage.

As though sensing my gaze, he lifts his head towards the stage.

He halts his movements, then raises his hand to peel the mask off his face. He meets my eyes amongst the crowd.

He is illuminated by the white light from outside the window, casting him in an extraordinarily cold glow.

I hear my heart beating out of control, and even my breathing becomes messy.

While I’m panicking on stage, the audience is calm.

It is unclear if he has recognised me or not.

A mixture of shyness and embarrassment flood my head. I use my remaining willpower to grasp my reason, turning around to finish the final half of the catwalk.

The gaze that follows my back carries a certain warmth, making my ears turn red.

After the fashion shows ends, I can hardly wait to head backstage to change out of my outfit, but I’m stopped.

Artistic Director: This outfit suits you! The celebratory dinner is about to begin, so there’s no time to change.

I look at the time and resignedly admit that he’s right.

After taking a quick break backstage, MC returns to the venue. She’s unable to recognize who anybody is because of the masks

Just as she wonders if Victor has left, she spots him in the crowd…

His head is lowered while he talks to a model. She is wearing a skirt similar to mine and is wearing the exact same mask. As though they are talking about a common interest, he smiles.

An inexplicable emotion overflows from my heart.

Victor seems to have sensed something, and he turns his head in my direction.

I hurriedly lower my head and hide behind someone’s back. I inch away slowly.

MC: Why do I even need to avoid him?

She decides to go back, but the Artistic Director stuffs a glass of red wine into her hand and asks her to celebrate together with the group

Because people keep offering her toasts, she eventually finishes the entire glass

MC: I will… leave for a while. Please continue.

I find a random excuse and stagger to an empty corner. My head feels dizzy, as though someone had twirled me around in circles.

Several thoughts run through my mind: Why did Victor appear? Did he see the message I sent? Is he waiting for me? Why was he talking to someone else – did he mistake her for me?

The more my mind wanders, the more I’m unable to control my heart, and it bubbles like champagne from an open bottle.

MC: I should change out of this outfit, then look for him…

I shut my eyes, my mind working especially slowly in my drunken state.

The music from the hall becomes modified, and the weird series of notes makes me forget what the original song was.

In my dazed and hazy state, I sense someone coming towards me. A nearing warmth suddenly appears in the ice-cold air.

Victor: What are you hiding here for?

A deep voice enters my ear. I am compelled to call out his name, but I’m unable to tear myself away from this dream-like drunkenness.

Victor: You’ve been drinking?

A familiar scent is within reach, unhappy with the mildest resistance.

Searing fingers lift my chin. Slightly rough fingertips brush my skin. In my dazed state, I tremble involuntarily.

Victor: Are you okay?

A low voice accompanied by warm breaths descend on my ears and bare shoulders, making my back go weak.

With no time to think, I reach out to push away this warmth that messes with my senses and heartbeat.

I open my eyes unhappily, and the person in front of me looks like an illusion, swaying in my vision. He is basked in a heavy shadow, and I can’t see him properly.

MC: Victor?

Am I dreaming? Or is this an illusion caused by drinking?

Victor: You can still recognize me?

One hand is pressed against the wall, trapping me between the space between him and the wall.

The light muslin of the curtain swishes in the wind. I follow the movement of his fingers and lift my head, as though I’m a prey that has fallen into a web.

Why is the Victor I hallucinated not gentle at all?

I look at him, my mind still imagining things. The playfulness that I usually suppress suddenly bubbles to the surface.

My tone is laced with boldness when I think about how he might have confused someone else for me earlier.

MC: Have you gotten the wrong person?

Victor: Hm? What are you trying to do?

Victor arches an eyebrow, the slight huskiness in his voice stirring the heart.

I suppress my accelerating heartbeat and continue this performance to the end.

MC: I never thought CEO Victor would make time to attend these types of fashion dinner events. Are you on a date with a beautiful woman?

Even I myself fail to realise how sour my tone sounds.

Victor purses his lips and does not respond. The warm light sharpens his features, making him appear slightly cold.

If it were a typical day, I would have backed down. But under the influence of alcohol, my boldness has grown, and I even feel wronged.

MC: Why aren’t you saying anything?

Victor: What do you want me to say?

He lets go, the corner of his lips raised. The sense of resignation he exudes carries with it a tinge of tenderness.

I stare at him in a daze, telling him what is in my heart.

MC: You look good when you smile.

This time, Victor is the one who looks at me in surprise. He doesn’t speak, waiting for me to continue.

As though enchanted by his charm, I smile and reach out for his palm, happily asking him a question.

MC: Victor, let’s dance!

Victor: You still want to dance in such a drunken state?

MC: Yes! I… I’m amazing at it!

While saying this, I raise his hand up high and twirl gracefully in front of him. After that, I toss him a provocative look.

Victor: You win.

Just when I thought he would reject me, he places his hand on the small of my back and applies pressure to it, gently closing the distance between us.

Music from the hall travels to this corner where nobody would disturb us - mellifluous, romantic, and gentle. Even the aura surrounding Victor turns tender.

My steps are light and messy, but in the space within his arms, our Waltz carries on steadily.

I lift my head to look at his expression and meet his especially deep and serious eyes.

It’s as though they own the entire cosmos.

They continue dancing, and MC tries but fails to hide her smile.

Victor: You no longer step on people’s feet when you dance now.

Taking two seconds longer than usual to respond, I raise my head and respond arrogantly.

MC: That’s a given! It’s because I have a good teacher, and I am a good student!

Victor: A good student… you’re not wrong.

Victor lets out a low laugh. The magnetic sound has a crispness to it.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or his breath, but whenever I turn or when we draw near to each other, my breathing becomes increasingly hurried.

Even before the song ends, I have already stopped my movements.

MC: I don’t want to dance any more, I’m feeling very dizzy!

Victor furrows his eyebrows and releases a sigh.

Victor: If you’re feeling dizzy, stop moving about. I’ll bring something over for you to sober up.

MC: Don’t go-

Seeing that he is about to leave, I quickly grab hold of his sleeve, then stand on my toes and lean in, stopping just a few centimeters from his face.

A faint smell of alcohol mingles in our breaths, but it isn’t a bad smell.

A darkness flits across Victor’s eyes. His breathing is deep and steady, but it quickens slightly.

I hold onto and observe him for a while, then open my mouth with hesitance.

MC: Are you really Victor?

Victor’s face blackens.

Victor: Then who do you think I am?

MC: Oh, this tone is really like Victor’s!

I duck my neck, letting go of his sleeve reluctantly. I sit next to the window obediently and watch him as he leaves.

MC slowly starts to sober up:

Victor: What’s wrong now?

The sudden voice pulls me back to reality. I turn my head to see that Victor has returned. I suddenly realise — it truly is Victor.

It’s neither a dream nor a hallucination. I really asked Victor to dance with me for no reason at all!

Victor: There’s only honey water. Drink this first.

MC: …I think you’ve got the wrong person. So sorry about that, my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good!!

Victor lapses into a short silence. The gaze he is shooting me with very clearly spells the word “idiot”.

I slowly recall that I had already used this “wrong person” phrase before, so I cover my face with my hands.

MC: …I was just kidding.

I laugh in embarrassment, looking at Victor’s expression through the spaces between my fingers. He seems to be a little angry, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m drunk or because of the words I just said.

Victor: You think I wouldn’t be able to recognize you?

There is a bright flash of danger in his eyes. Borrowing the leftover courage from my drunken stupor, I mutter incredibly softly.

[Note: The word “danger” might seem odd, but it’s the literal translation of the term used (”危险”)]

MC: Weren’t you talking to a girl who was dressed like me just now?

Victor: What girl?

Victor pauses for a few seconds, then seems to recall who I was talking about.

Victor: You’ve been vexed about this issue all this time?

MC: Not really vexed. Just a little…

Victor: Is there an issue if I asked the staff where you were? It’s all because someone went missing after sending me a message.

My eyes widen. The tone of Victor’s voice changes.

Victor: Is that why you went into hiding after seeing me?

MC: This, um, there’s a reason for that.

Victor’s eyebrows arch in interest as he waits for me to continue.

At this moment, my stomach suddenly lets out a weird noise.

MC: Ha, haha…

I cover my empty stomach and let out two embarrassed chokes of laughter.

Victor: You haven’t eaten anything tonight?

MC: I ate a small bun. If I ate too much, I wouldn’t look nice in this skirt.

Victor sizes me up with his gaze. I’ve long since forgotten that I initially didn’t want him to see this outfit. I even continue complaining.

MC: These high heels are very high and my toes hurt. The necklace is very heavy and my neck is about to snap off. Ah, this is the price of beauty!

Victor: Do you like this style?

For some reason, I suddenly sense a dangerous aura, so I quickly respond.

[Note: Again, I personally feel “danger” is too strong a term, but it’s the literal translation of the term used (”危险”)]

MC: I don’t. If it weren’t for the sudden accident, I wouldn’t have been roped into the fashion show!

Victor: In future, don’t agree to these sorts of things.

MC: Mm, I wouldn’t do such things again next time!

I nod my head immediately. Seeing his expression become warmer, I release a sigh of relief.

Victor: Next time, don’t drink. Learn how to reject when too many people offer you a toast.

Victor hands me the glass. I gulp it down obediently, and the sweetness on my tongue dispels the bitterness of the wine.

Victor steps closer to me, his hand moving to the back of my neck. It is only when his fingers brush against the skin on my neck that I think of dodging.

Victor: Don’t move.

With a sweep of his gaze, I dare not move.

MC: What are you doing?

I ask softly. He doesn’t respond, lowering his head and patiently unhooking the necklace.

His breath descends on my eyelashes, and I can’t help but blink a few times. Yet, I don’t want to tear my gaze from his face.

The pressure on my neck becomes lighter. I lower my head and see that Victor has removed the heavy necklace in front of my chest, putting it at the side.

Victor: Let’s go and eat.

With this, Victor pulls me in preparation to leave.

MC: Can I have your cooking?!

Just when I think he is about to reject me, he turns to me and nods.

Victor: Sure.

My eyes light up. The moment I think of listing down a series of delicacies I wish to eat, I immediately recall an issue.

Victor: What’s wrong? You haven’t thought about what to eat?

My face crumples as I struggle between the choices of having delicacies or work. Logic triumphs in the end.

MC: I’m one of the persons-in-charge, so I have to wait for the whole event to end before I can leave.

I feel like crying while saying this. While I look at Victor, I can only feel my delicacy sprouting wings and flying away.

Victor: Since I already made a promise, I won’t go back on my word.

MC: Really? Then let’s make a pinky promise!

I stretch my finger out in front of Victor and stare at him in anticipation.

He lifts his hand, not to hook my pinky, but to give my forehead a gentle flick.

Victor: Childish.

I pout while covering my forehead. It is only now that I see a mask. Recalling how Victor looked when he had his mask on, I hurriedly go over to take it.

MC: I’ll help you put it on!

I stand on my tiptoes, raising both arms as I help Victor wear the black mask.

Victor doesn’t move and lets me put the mask on for him. I didn’t realise that my entire body was basically pressed against his.

The black mask gives Victor a different kind of colour, mystery and unpredictability.

The deep eyes beneath the mask are comparable to the darkest hour of night, and like a vortex that can swallow me up whole.

I’m left dazzled, and yet also instinctively feel like avoiding them due to the danger within.

MC: This way, you wouldn’t be recognized by other people! I’ll be the only one who can recognize you.

I accidentally let the words in my heart spill out. My voice is very soft and contented.

Victor: And you still say you aren’t a dummy.

MC: How am I stupid! I…

I retort, but my words are forgotten once I notice Victor’s tender gaze.

This moment feels like an imagination. His voice clearly and steadily enters my world.

Victor: If you can recognize me, why do you think I wouldn’t be able to recognize you? All you have to know is that in my eyes, you are different from other people.

I let Victor take my hand as we walk into the crowd. The light outlines his profile.

In this strange world created by my remaining stupor, only Victor is real.

In this gorgeous masquerade, nobody knows who lies under the mask.

At this moment, everyone is immersed in opulence.

Under the masks, no one looks like their original selves.

But he is still himself, and she is still herself.

Two genuine hearts are mutually drawn to each other, and draw nearer to each other.

🍷

Calls: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor #gorgeous MC #gorgeous Victor #let’s all enjoy a calming cup of Victor before we collectively COMBUST from the anime release

238 notes · View notes

a-singleboat · 5 years ago

Text

Serious

Word Count: 3.3k

Request: can you do emily prentiss x fem!reader with some angst? Thanks! - anon

Warning(s): Reader gets kidnapped, blood, stabbing, general gore

When you first started dating Emily Prentiss, you knew the risks. It wasn’t easy dating a high-profile government employee, especially when you were roughly six years younger than her. If anything, it made it even harder especially when your lives didn’t seem to line up at all. While she was Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI, you were working toward your first pHd out of, hopefully, two.

So while she was out catching serial killers and the rest of the mortal evil in the world, you were attending classes and conducting research on “The effectiveness of rehabilitation in prisons and the criminal justice system.” It was riveting stuff, really. A pHd in forensic psychology would put you on the path to becoming a criminal researcher like you’d always dream of.

Well, technically you wanted to be a criminal profiler but you weren’t all too athletic and based on knowing what your girlfriend did, decided on a career change shortly after gaining your bachelors. What Emily did seemed exhausting, quite frankly, and you could make just as much of a change as she did out in the field by sitting in a lab.

But what made things really hard between the two of you was the fact that due to who you were as a person and what Emily did for a living, you have attracted a very adamant stalker who was twice as likely to turn violent than the rest of them simply because he’d known you earlier on in life.

Unfortunately, your oh-so-loving stalker was a man by the name of James Carlton, who’d felt slighted in the way you’d rejected him several times over the course of your high school career. Yeah, you didn’t really pick up the sentiment of “Treat People with Kindness,” until about midway through your sophomore year of college. Some could say you’d brought this on yourself.

“I’m okay,” you assured your girlfriend through the phone, crossing your arm over your torso and leaning against the wall. It reeked of cigarette smoke despite the huge sign on the wall stating that smoking was prohibited within fifty feet of the establishment. You peered through the gauze-like curtains, searching the motel parking lot for the tell-tale sign of the FBI’s arrival. “I’m just a bit shaken up. Though, I think he might have my psychology paper. I can just reprint that though.”

“Of course out of everything you’re worried about, it's your goddamn paper. You shouldn’t be worried about your grades when your life is in danger,” Emily advised, the sirens blaring in the background.

“But my grades are all I have right now, well, except for you.” You risked another glance out the window. “How long until you guys get here?”

“Five minutes, tops,” Emily assured her. “We’ve already passed the library.”

A shadow passed in front of the window as you took a step back in shock, the frightening electric blue eyes of the very man you were running from staring straight at you. He pressed a sheet of paper against the window, a sadistic grin spread over his features as he leaned into the musty glass.

In crude sharpie, the words YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER had been scrawled over the careful ink of your psychology paper. You really couldn’t pass that in for a grade now.

Smoke started to creep into your room through the vents, forcing you into the center of the room as you covered your mouth and did everything you could not to breathe in. You just had to last four more minutes.

You whimpered as you saw the door handle jiggle, James having disappeared from the window to attempt breaking down the shoddy motel room door. You could barely hear Emily asking what was going on over the thumping of your own heart as your vision blurred. It was either you stopped breathing and passed out or took a breath in and passed out anyways.

You managed to whisper, “He’s here,” into the receiver before you collapsed, gasping for air. Not even a moment later, you felt a hand at your waist as someone heaved you over their shoulder. Unfortunately for you, it probably wasn’t Emily.

By the time you came to, you were already thoroughly scared. Your dreams had been anything but pleasant, flashes of torture blinding you even before you were awake. But still, you kept your eyes closed and your breathing even as you tried to figure out where you were.

It felt dark. With nothing covering your eyes, you could tell that it was as well. The air smelled damp, like an old towel that had been left sitting for too long. It was cold as well and as far as you could tell, you were underground. You were willing to bet you were in a cellar of some sort.

Slowly, you moved your left foot only to realize your ankles had been shackled to the extremely uncomfortable bed. It felt like you were laying on hay, which was completely possible. The prickly sensation at your back was either that or hair, which would have been extremely unfortunate.

A door opened on the other side of the room, causing you to stiffen. You choked back a sob as you struggled to keep your breathing under control.

“Oh, Y/n,” James cooed, running a finger down the side of your face. You heard more footsteps before the door slammed shut, causing you to tense up once more. “You’re awake, aren’t you, baby?”

You figured there was no reason to hide anymore, flinching away from him and his use of the pet name. Emily called you baby all the time, something you’d grown to like in your relationship. You never liked the name before her.

“What?” he asked, pulling down your blindfold. “You don’t like it when I call you baby?”

Instead of focusing on him, you turned your head so you could analyze where you were. You were right, it was dark. There was a dim floor lamp in the far corner, weakly emitting an eerie glow over the room. By the lamp, barely within reach of the light, was another man. He had a gun on his hip and stood protectively in front of the door, as if he were waiting for something.87

James was a lot more prepared for your abduction than you originally thought. This would make it difficult for your rescue but to be honest, you were doubtful that you would make it to the next day.

He grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him. You tried to sink further into the scratchy mattress but he followed you, a sadistic smile on his face as he just got closer the more you tried to shrink away. “You thought you were safe?” He got closer, chuckling. His rancid breath washed over your face and you held your breath until it subsided. “You’ll never be safe. Not as long as I’m alive. You know why?”

You really didn’t want to know why.

“Because I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, darling.” He traced a finger down the side of your face. “You’re never getting away from me again. You’re mine.”

“You’re delusional,” you managed through gritted teeth. “I’ll never be yours. I wasn’t in high school and I sure as hell am not now.”

James scoffed. “You popular girls were always the same. Always thinking you’re better than everyone just because you were well liked.” He slapped you, causing your head to whip to the side. The sting from his palm meeting your cheek hurt more than it normally would. You could already tell that it was already reddening even without the help of a mirror. “Though, I have to give you props. Ashlynn didn’t last this long before she was sobbing for her life. You really surprised me.”

“Ashlynn?” This was news to you. In high school, you’d surrounded yourself with like-minded individuals all more self-conscious than the last. Ashlynn was the “head bitch” as others put it. She was like the Regina George of your friend group. “So after me you’ll go for Georgia and Penny, is that it?”

“You always were the smart one, weren’t you?” James said, backing off. He walked over to a table just out of sight, picking up a knife and running it over a whetstone a few times. You winced at every stroke, watching as he sharpened his weapon with glee.

“You really should have saved me for last,” you said, choking down any fear. James raised the blade into the air, admiring the sharp edge before strolling back over to you. He pressed the knife against your collarbone, barely applying any pressure.

“And why’s that?”

“Because my girlfriend’s going to come for me,” you said, gasping as he forced the blade into your skin. You felt the trickle of blood slide down the side of your neck until it dripped off onto the mattress. “She’s an FBI agent, you know.”

James rolled his eyes. “And Ashlynn’s husband was a cop. She still died.” He pulled the knife back, resting the tip on your arm. “They still haven’t found her body, you know. It really shouldn’t have been too hard to find though. It’s where you and the rest of them used to hang out everyday after school.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You stiffened your arm, pushing into the mattress to escape the knife. There were two outcomes that you could see. Either Emily dramatically bursted into the cellar and managed to save you just in time or you got marked up and eventually bled out. You crossed your fingers and sent out a mental prayer that Emily would get to you in time.

The tip of the knife dragged over your arm, splitting your skin like the Red Sea. Strangely, it didn’t hurt. The knife was so sharp that you couldn’t feel anything. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not but at least it saved you from the pain.

“Why am I telling you this…?” James brought the knife up and cut down the middle of your shirt, leaving you exposed. He traced a few letters over your stomach with his finger before turning the knife over in his hand, pressing the weapon blade-side down. It cut into your skin, the beginnings of an “M” blossoming on the right side of your stomach. “Because you’ll be dead by morning. If you refuse to be mine then there’s no point in keeping you alive. You think your idiot of an FBI agent can save you in time?” He finished carving his word into your stomach, pain blossoming across your entire midsection causing your sight to go blurry. He’d pressed harder that time which meant you actually felt each excruciating cut he made.

James took a step back, taking the moment to admire his handy work before thrusting the knife hilt-deep into your stomach.

You felt the pain, a searing white-hot pain right underneath where your belly button was. If you breathed wrong, you could feel the knife move, which was horrifying in many ways. You tried to make your breaths more shallow on purpose, not wanting to disturb the weapon jutting out from your stomach.

And, just like a movie, the door burst open a moment later. Shouts of “FBI!” and “Hands up!” could be heard. You watched through blurred vision as James put his hands up, laughing maniacally as the blood left your body. Not only could you feel the blood drip down your collarbone and arm, but you could tell that your stomach was doing a good job of acting as a waterfall, watering the mattress below you.

Unfortunately for you, your stomach’s waterfall performance was not beneficial to the cause of keeping you alive. The last thing you saw before succumbing to the darkness was your girlfriend’s extremely worried face and the muffled sounds of her beautiful voice. Too bad you didn’t stay awake long enough to hear any more.

Emily was struggling between acting as the Unit Chief her team needed her to be and playing the understandably worried girlfriend to the woman that was bleeding out in front of her not even four hours ago. Thankfully they’d gotten to you in time. You hadn’t been bleeding for too long and the knife hadn’t been taken out which improved your chances of survival by a good amount. Emily wasn’t really paying attention when Reid was prattling off your survivability rate. She was more focused on making sure you actually survived.

You’d lost a lot of blood. That wasn’t arguable. By the time they reached you, your neck was drenched as well as your arm. The pool of blood in your stomach wasn’t comforting either and the second she saw what had been carved into your skin, Emily had to excuse herself for a moment to go throw up in the bushes.

And the worst part… the worst part was that you looked dead. You looked exactly like a victim in one of the many photos she’d see in a day. Your hair was wet--from what, she didn’t know, and you looked awful. After years of looking at the photos and consoling grieving families, she never even imagined that she’d be the one to be consoled.

“The doctors are hopeful, but she lost a lot of blood,” JJ said, resting a hand on her shoulder. Emily didn’t react. She had your scarf clenched in her hands. It was the same scarf you’d given her after it started snowing on your fifth date together and you had to escape into your apartment that was nearby. You’d said that it looked better on her and smiled. God, she’d give anything to see you smile again.

It was crazy how five years of love could be erased in just a day. Five years of morning phone calls when Emily was away, five years of at-home dinners after a long case, five years of just existence with you… it hurt to think about how quickly it could all just be gone.

“This is all my fault,” Emily muttered, twisting your scarf through her hands. She let the fabric slip through her fingers, watching as it fell into a heap on her lap. “I should’ve never left her alone.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Reid was standing in front of her on her left side, his arms crossed across his chest. As much as he tried to make it seem like he hadn’t been crying, he didn’t really do a good job with hiding it. His eyes were red and his cheeks blotchy. The fact that he was sniffling didn’t help either.

Reid and Y/n were best friends for years before Emily came along. The two of you actually met through Reid. You’d brought him lunch one day and it took about five weeks of seeing you around before Emily got the guts to ask if you were single--to which Reid had smiled wide at and answered that yes, you were single.

“I was the last person to see her,” he said. “If anything, it was my fault.”

Rossi scoffed. He didn’t know you as well as Reid or Emily but after years of having you as Emily’s plus one for dinners at his mansion, he’s gotten to know you better than most. You saw him as a father figure and he saw you as one of his own. “Neither of you should be blaming yourself. Y/n is here and she’s safe, that’s all the matters now. We can’t change the past.”

Says the man who obsessed over an unsolved case from his prime, Emily wanted to say. But she held back. Arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere and as much as she hated it, Rossi was right. You were safe with six government agents plus one technical analyst and one retired government agent sitting outside the room where you were receiving surgery.

“Y/n’s tough,” Morgan said, resting his own hand on Reid’s shoulder. He’d been there a lot toward the beginning of your relationship, quickly becoming the older brother type that you never get to experience as an only child. “You both know that. She’ll pull through.”

The night passed into its eighth hour when the doctors finally emerged. Emily was the first to stand, slapping Reid’s shoulder until he woke up and stood with her. The rest of the team had either passed out or left. Alvez had gone home, as had Lewis. The only other people that remained were JJ, Morgan, Garcia and Rossi.

“Most of the injuries she’d sustained were superficial. They should heal within a week or so,” the doctor, Dr. Smith, informed them. “She’ll be in pain for a few good weeks as she heals. The stab wound to her stomach will take longer to heal, the knife having gone deep enough to penetrate her uterus. We expect she’ll make a full recovery.”

Emily frowned. “And the carving?”

“Wasn’t deep enough to scar,” Dr. Smith assured her. “In fact, most of the knife injuries should heal without scarring. Just the stab to her abdomen should scar.”

Reid nodded, thanking the doctor before turning to Emily. He looked more relieved than worried, which was a good thing. Y/n would be okay.

“I thought I was going to lose her,” Emily said. Your scarf had become a bracelet of sorts, securly tied around her wrist. It still smelled like you, though it had faded since you’d given it to her.

“Do you want to go in and see her first?” Reid offered, looking over at the Intensive Care Unit you’d been moved into. They could see you through the glass now. You were asleep, most likely exhausted, and rightfully so. You looked peaceful asleep, a familiar and welcome sight, though she usually saw you like this when she came home late from cases.

“Shouldn’t we let her sleep?” Emily asked, eyes not moving from your still frame.

Reid looked over his shoulder. “Well, I don’t think anyone’s going to go home until she’s awake. You could go sit with her until she does.”

Emily nodded but she didn’t move. She was torn between wanting to be by your side and wanting to just leave you be. Reid pushed her toward you, motioning for her to get along with it.

She crossed the threshold, closing the door behind her. Immediately, the silence was apparent. Compared to the occasional sound of chatter in the hallways, your room was completely silent. It was a welcome change, though Emily would have much rather preferred the space be filled with your laughter.

Emily pulled a chair from the wall over to where you laid, sinking into the uncomfortable faux leather. She reached for your hand, taking it in hers. Your skin was still as soft as ever thanks to the hand cream you use nearly every chance you get. The dumb little habit had things slipping from your fingers more often than not but Emily was always there to catch the occasional glass.

You had a few paper cuts from the speed at which you read, and though you were nowhere near Reid’s 20,000 WPM, Emily swore that you consumed material faster than he did. For a brief moment, Emily thought about leaving you. The world was dangerous enough as is without a constant target on your back because of her occupation. Maybe you’d fare better with someone who wasn’t as high profile.

But then she thought about what you would say--you’d reprimand her for being an absolute dumbass before telling her that dinner was ready with a smile. Emily leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your palm before settling back into the seat. She refused to let go of your hand, bringing the chair as close as possible.

Emily would wait a thousand years if it meant you’d wake up and be in her arms once again. She drifted off to sleep with your hand still firmly intertwined with her own, a reminder that you were safe and that she would never let go of you again.

TAGLIST

PERMANENT

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000 @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch

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crystalrose555 · 4 years ago

Text

Slap me, I dare you! pt. 1

“Come on, Marley~” A small voice begged.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

“But you gotta finish your story!” Another voice demanded.

“Nope, the next part is too scary for little seals. I’ll finish the story when you’re older.”

“Liar!”

Marley stuck her tongue out as the sound of little feet followed her to the living room. It’s been around a month since she returned from her adventure in Devildom and the pups refused to let go of the enticing story she started. While she had stretched the truth and sugarcoated what she could, Marley couldn’t bring herself to talk about everything that happened, she barely could understand it herself. She sighed as she tossed herself on the couch next to her new pelt, giving it a gingered rub before grabbing a clean shirt from the laundry bin. However, she was smothered by the pups that invaded her personal space which caused her to release a large sigh.

“If you don’t tell us, we’ll just have to get the rest of the story from Nixie.” Gell, the oldest, claimed plainly.

“Good luck with that since I didn’t tell Nixie the ending either.” She snorted.

She soon found herself surrounded by the booing of various tones which started to grind against her nerves.

“Knock it off! If you’re not going to help with the laundry then go for a swim and cool your heads!” She commanded firmly pointing to the backdoor.

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to tell us the rest eventually.” Rem, the second oldest claimed while Gell herded the younglings from the room.

“Make sure the little ones don’t go too far from shore and keep an eye out for humans. I’m counting on you boys.”

“Yeah, yeah, what else is new?” Gell called out with a snort as he led the others to the back door.

Once she heard the back door close, Marley sighed heavily in relief.

“Finally, geez, they’re worse than seagulls.” She mumbled as she tried to fold laundry once more.

Suddenly, a hearty knock echoed from the front door, causing Marley to flatten on the couch with a huff, grabbing her pelt.

“Of course, because why not.” She groaned before peeling herself off the couch to answer the door.

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

“Do you think she’ll ever tell us what happened to her?” Rem asked with a sigh as he dug his feet into the warm sand.

“I doubt it.” Gell answered while staring at the younglings playing in the waves.

“I mean, I know she makes up stories to tell us but do you really think she was kidnapped by demons?”

Gell just scoffed as his brother gave a snarky smirk in his direction. He then rested his head in the palm of his hand.

“Yeah right, she probably got caught by some poachers or drunk sailors and had to fight her way off the boat.”

Rem snorted out a laugh in response.

“Or she was fighting a Kraken while doing a deep dive.” He managed to chuckle out.

“Nah, if she did, we would still be eating calamari. On top of that, when was the last time she came home empty-handed?”

“But she didn’t, she got that new pelt, remember?”

Gell sighed before turning to his brother.

“Then where’s her old one? What happened to it? Have you ever heard about a selkie getting a new pelt before? Let alone one that looks that strange.”

Rem blinked in disbelief.

“Woah, you’ve been really thinking about this.”

Gell sighed as he scratched his head through his thick hair. Rem patted his brother on the shoulder and gave a light smile.

“Come on, don’t think too hard about it. Let’s just let Nixie handle it. It’s not like she’s crying for help or something.”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!”

The boys suddenly jumped from their seats as Marley’s loud protest penetrated the house’s walls. Wasting no time, Gell told his brother to wait with the others as he rushed into the house from the back door. In a huff, he scanned the living room and headed toward the front door to see Marley tossed over the shoulder of a blue cloaked figure, banging on his back furiously. Cursing at him to put her down, the stranger simply scoffed as he headed out the door. Gell stood frozen as Marley continued to curse at the black-haired stranger who looked back at her with crimson eyes. His knees nearly gave out from underneath him as he tried to charge forward to help his guardian but he lost his steam as a rush of black feathers blocked his vision. Once the torrent was over, nothing was left but a single black feather laying in the door frame. His knees buckled in as he dropped to the floor and reached for the large feather with a shaky hand.

“Gell, Gell! What’s going on?!” Rem yelled from the back door to his brother.

“Demons are real!!!” Gell answered back with a shrill wail.

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

“Put me down already!” Marley screamed in Lucifer’s ear.

“Gladly.” Lucifer answered as he roughly dropped her on the chair in his office.

Marley rubbed her bottom gingerly while Lucifer crossed his arms and stared at her with steel-like eyes.

“What the hell, Lucifer!? Who stuffed a bee in your collar!?” She protested loudly.

Lucifer didn’t answer, instead, his form slowly shifted as his clothing turned black and his horns pierced his ebony hair. His demonic aura crept upon the floor and encased the ground beneath Marley’s chair in jet-black shadow. Looking down at her feet and taking in the warping surroundings, Marley returned her vision to the now winged demon in front of her. Reading the room, Marley crossed her legs and pulled down her oversized hoodie before addressing Lucifer.

“You seem upset.” She calmly pointed out.

“Upset doesn’t begin to describe how I felt in the past month. Livid is a better word to use.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, it must have been very stressful.”

“You can say that.”

Marley smoothly got up from her seat and took in a gentle breath.

“Well, it’s been wonderful to see you again, give your brothers my love and you can send me back now.”

“Not a chance, especially considering the stunt you’ve pulled upon your first departure.”

“Come on, I have laundry and I want to fold it while it’s still warm.” Marley whined as her shoulders slumped.

“Is that truly your main concern right now!?” Lucifer hissed as his aura grew darker.

“Yeah, considering that I was kidnapped from my home this time! Seriously, what’s with the kidnapping, what the fuck is wrong with a letter!?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“I’m not changing the subject, I’m just getting to the subtext!”

At this point, Lucifer and Marley’s conversation devolved from yelling to inhuman noises that echoed in the office. Since neither refused to budge, their base instincts came to the surface in the form of demonic growling and seal barking. Unfortunately, the sound of conflict spilled out of the room and attracted unwanted attention as a group of demon brothers poured themselves into the room. Marley turned her gaze only to be engulfed in layers of arguing demons.

“Get off of me, I was here first!” Levi claimed as he tried to push Mammon and Asmo away.

“Like hell, nerd! I ain’t got a chance to hang out with her yet!” Mammon hissed as he pushed back.

Asmo just took the opportunity to hold her closer, kissing her cheeks over and over.

“Mochi, I missed you soooo much, I’ve been so lonely without you~” Asmo cooed between kisses.

“Oi, get your hands off of her, Asmo! Don’t think you can run off with her!” Mammon yelled.

“Yeah, besides I’m her first demon and I get first dibs!” Levi added.

Satan kept close to the door as he watched his brothers tugging the surprised selkie back and forth between them. Finally having enough, an annoyed Marley released a wave of cold that repelled Asmo and Mammon, leaving Levi grasping onto her stubbornly.

“S-See? I’m the w-winner!” Levi claimed through his chattering teeth at his pouting brothers.

“You too, Geek Boy.” Marley claimed flatly as she lowered the temperature again, causing Levi to pull away to warm himself up.

The trio stared at her with puppy eyes only to receive a cold stern glare in return.

“Don’t give me that look, I’ve already had to deal with enough of that today!” She barked at the pouting demons.

She turned her attention back to the eldest brother who remained unfazed from the sudden cold.

“Send me back now, Lucy, and if my bedsheets get wrinkled, I swear to God.” Marley threatened slowly.

Lucifer didn’t even get a chance to respond before his brothers forced their opinions out in the open.

“W-wait, you’re going back already?” Levi questioned with big eyes.

“But you just got back here and you were gone forever!” Mammon added.

“Yeah, there’s so much we need to talk about, Mochi~” Asmo whined.

Marley snapped her gaze back to the trio with a surprised expression.

“I’ve. Been. Gone. For a month! What have you all been doing since I left?”

“Waiting for you to get back...” The trio said in a united pout.

Marley rolled her eyes as she turned back to the waiting Lucifer. Eventually, the trio began to beg Lucifer to let her stay while finding themselves clinging to Marley’s body once more. As the volume continued to rise, Lucifer’s anger began to boil to the point where his dark aura finally overtook the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Can we focus on the true matter of hand?” He claimed coldly.

“And that would be?” She asked.

“Your sudden departure message, the picture that you decided to post on Devilgram.” Lucifer growled.

Marley thought for a moment to remember the picture before a genuine look of surprise came across her face.

“That’s why you have your panties in a bunch? For a picture? On the internet!?”

“It wasn’t a normal picture and you know that.”

Marley snorted out air as she turned her gaze away from the angered demon.

“Ok, so what? I put my pic on Devilgram, big deal.”

“You posted it on Lord Diavolo’s Devilgram, it’s a very big deal!”

Marley just tossed her arms in the air and scoffed at the issue, showing more concern for her laundry than the prince’s profile. Reading her expression, Lucifer’s rage peaked only to break away to an eerie calm that washed over his being. Seeing this, Marley stood on guard of the demon who put away his blackened wings and horns and took out a cold smile.

“What’s with that smile on your face, Lucifer?”

“I’m just thinking about how much school work you have to catch up on.”

“Excuse me?”

“You left in the middle of the term, without notice, so you have to make up all of the missed assignments. And you better maintain those impressive grades you’ve earned while you were sliding around. So you’re not going anywhere until it’s all finished.”

“EXCUSE ME!!?” Marley repeated louder.

However, her concerns were drowned out by the excited shrieks of the clinging demons on her body, all excited by the fact she would be living with them once more.

“Aww, Mochi, you get to live with us again~” Asmo chimed with his brothers in agreement.

“We have so many anime and manga to catch up on, not to mention the behind-the-scenes and director’s cut!” Levi added.

“BUT MY FUCKING LAUNDRY!!!” She screamed.

#obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date?#obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me levi #levi #asmo #satan #mammon #lucifer #obey me oc #obey me fanfic #mochi story fanfic #selkie #obey me mc

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missluthorwillseeyounow · 5 years ago

Text

Hitch Me To The One I Love (Supercorp Hitch AU), part 1

Supercorp Hitch AU where Kara is a dating "consultant" who helps her clients, mostly useless gays, get the girl. She's got a little bit of a chip on her shoulder, because her ex-girlfriend, Siobhan cheated on her when she was still a gullible and vulnerable kid in college (I'm imagining a scene where Siobhan derides her by saying that she's "out of Kara's league").

Since then, Kara's kind of made it her mission to help her fellow gays avoid the same heartbreak she experienced. She's a hopeless romantic, who believes that everyone should have a chance to get the person of their dreams, even if they're "out of their league". She's clever about it so no one ever traces anything back to her, and her dorky charm and sunny demeanor keeps people from connecting her with this "Supergirl" matchmaker that everyone keeps talking about. She's made a lot of successful matches, and all her clients are grateful to her, and they pass her business along by word of mouth.

Enter Veronica Sinclair.

Kara goes to meet her, thinking she's another ordinary client, but when Kara sees her, she immediately knows something's off, because Veronica is stunning, sultry and confident in an eat-you-alive kind of way. There's no way she needs help getting a girl - any girl, or anyone for that matter. Then Veronica starts telling her about this woman she wants to pursue.

"She's.... something else. There's always been something elusive about her. We were at boarding school together, briefly. We never got along then. But now.... Now, things are different. The stakes are higher. She never returns my calls, won't even look my way. It's infuriating! I've been trying to fuck her for years--"

Kara chokes. "Excuse me??"

"Fuck her," Veronica says with a catty smile at Kara's spluttering. "Rail her until she can't walk the next day. Bend her over her desk and break her in half. Have her on her knees with my fingers in her mouth. I really don't know why I need to explain this to you. You're supposed to be the professional."

"I think you may have misunderstood what I do." Kara tries to storm off, but Veronica catches her by the arm.

"I think you may have misunderstood who you're talking to." Veronica murmurs, low and dangerous. "I'm not the sort of person people say no to. People can wince, cry or beg, but eventually, they do what I want. "

Before she can finish her threat, Kara has her in an armlock, and Veronica's face is pushed up against a wall. "And I'm not really the sort of person who likes to touch or be touched without permission. I'm all about consent, y'know."

Kara lets her go with a forced cheery smile before storming out.

_________

Lena, on the other hand, is the reclusive CEO of L-Corp. Her dating life is nonexistent, because she's married to her work, and trying to repair the shambles of the company her brother almost bankrupted with his schemes.

She had her gay awakening in boarding school, secretly staring at Veronica Sinclair's profile in biology class, and watching her smoke under the bleachers from afar. Lena as a schoolgirl was much too focused on escaping everyone else's radar that she and Veronica didn't interact much, but when they did, they didn't get along. Veronica was too much like a snake for Lena's liking - beautiful to look at, but venomous and deadly.

So when Veronica begins displaying an interest in her, Lena avoids her as much as she can. It's not that difficult, she's the CEO of a multinational conglomerate after all.

Things change when Veronica begins to.... court her. Or whatever version of it Veronica is capable of - which, coming from Veronica, feels more like coercion than courtship.

Veronica keeps sending gifts to L-Corp, and when Lena ignores or returns them, she begins making donations to Lena's various charities and sends her extensive (and admittedly sometimes dubious) contacts Lena's way whenever she gets wind that Lena has need of them for whatever innovation she plans to develop next.

She conveniently runs into Lena, at galas and fundraisers, and other various events that Lena mostly goes to just to keep up appearances. Every time, Veronica is there, scorching Lena with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

And Lena is only human.

It's nice to have all this positive attention when all her life she's lived under the shadow of her family's infamy, especially when she's been dragged by everyone recently after what Lex did.

And she will admit, it.... it feels nice to be desired after being scorned for years, especially by someone she had stared at and wanted for years as a girl.

She gives in and agrees to a drink. One drink. That ends up with her bent over her kitchen counter, panting against the marble while Veronica fucks her from behind.

Veronica doesn't stay the night. Nor does she answer any phone calls the next day. When Lena finds out that one of the contacts Veronica had sent her way backed out from an important project at Veronica's insistence, she deletes Veronica's number from her phone.

When scandalous pictures of Lena and Veronica in a very clearly compromised position are released by the tabloids, she grits her teeth and takes the hit from the board of investors. Then she downs two glasses of her heaviest scotch in quick succession before drinking it straight from the bottle.

Jess, ever the efficient assistant, gathers as much information as she can on Veronica for retaliation. That’s when she first hears about “Supergirl”, this elusive dating consultant who, from what Jess gleaned from Veronica’s circles, supposedly connects people with women they want to sleep with.

She almost doesn’t tell Lena. But Jess knows her well, and she knows Lena would rather know the truth. So Jess tells her, and hands her the nondescript little blue and red business card with an anonymous phone number on it.

Lena looks down at it, the muscles of her jaw twitching even if the rest of her face is still. When Jess leaves, she throws it in the trash, and throws herself back into work.

_________

Fast forward a year later, Kara meets Lena when she acquires tickets to an L-Corp event for one of her clients. She’s there mostly for surveillance and as back-up for her client, in case she’s needed, but she spots Lena drinking alone at the bar.

Kara sits down next to her with a smile. Lena politely nods back before she goes back to nursing her own drink.

Kara keeps studying her, even though Lena pointedly ignores her, and out of the blue, Kara tips her glass at her and grins. “I bet you a date I can make you laugh.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You look like you could use a laugh right now. I bet you one date that I can make you laugh.”

“Excuse me--”

“Hear me out. My terms are simple. If I can make you laugh, I get to take you out on a date. Preferably somewhere as far away as we can get from this stuffy shindig. It’s a win-win for you. Your mood gets better, and you get to see me out of my suit.” Kara leans in with a conspiratorial grin. “‘Cause if you think I look good in a suit and tie, trust me, I look much better in jeans and a t-shirt. ”

“Oh, really?” Lena’s expression morphs from one of surprise to amusement. “And what do I get if I win?”

“Well...” Kara’s grin goes wider, and she intentionally drops her eyes to Lena’s lips. Lena’s mouth parts a little, but instead of moving forward, Kara plops the small tub of maraschino cherries from the bar in front of her. “I’ll share these with you. And if you knew me, you would know what a big deal it is that I’m even offering to share food with you.”

The corner of Lena’s lips lifts into a small smile. “Deal.”

She offers a hand out for Kara’s to shake, and Kara takes it in hers. Kara’s hand is warm, calloused and long-fingered. Lena quite likes the feel of it, but she’d rather die than admit it. Just like she’d rather die than give Kara a laugh.

The next half-hour is spent with Kara using the worst pick-up lines on her, each progressively worse than the next, in an effort to make Lena laugh.

“Do you believe in love at first sight—or should I walk by again?”

“I'm no photographer, but I can picture us together.“

Lena shakes her head. “God, you are bad at this.”

“Well, can you blame me? You’re so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line." Kara winks, and Lena bites her lip to keep from smiling too much.

“Here’s another one -- Is this the Hogwarts Express? Because it feels like you and I are headed somewhere magical.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Oh God, and you’re a nerd.” She neglects to mention that she’s probably a bigger nerd than this girl.

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!” Lena almost grins too widely at that one, but she schools her expression.

“Are you the SAT? Because I’d do you for 3 hours and 45 minutes with a ten minute break in the middle for snacks.”

Lena takes a sip of her whiskey to hide her smile. “I finished mine in under two hours, so...”

“Well, I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it.”

“Can I follow you where you’re going right now? Because I was always told to follow my dreams.”

By now, Lena’s struggling not to smile too much. Her mood has definitely improved, thanks to this nosy yet attractive blonde with the sparkling blue eyes and the irrepressible grin.

When Kara tries her next pick-up line “Didn’t I see you on the cover of CatCo magazine?” Lena finally laughs. Kara’s face lights up and she does a fist-pump.

“You probably did, I was on the cover last January.” Lena holds out her hand again. “Lena Luthor.”

The other woman grins widely, irresistibly. “Kara Danvers.”

“I guess I owe you a date, Kara Danvers.” Lena smiles as she rises from her seat. Just before she leaves, she slides the tub of cherries back toward Kara.

“Just so you know, I’m allergic to cherries.”

__________

Their first date is a disaster.

Hordes of paparazzi attempt to follow them, all eager for the scoop on “Lena Luthor’s new lady love”, and Lena’s security team deems it unsafe for them to go to the gallery Kara knows Lena would have loved.

Instead, they stay holed up in Lena’s office, and Kara orders in Big Belly Burger while she pulls up pictures of the art made by the trans street artist that the gallery was featuring. One of her old clients, though she doesn’t mention it to Lena.

But Lena sits beside her on the white couch, heels off, feet tucked under her, humming in appreciation as the two of them pore over the young artist’s work. They spend hours on the couch, talking and laughing, shoulders barely touching. The date ends with Lena enthusiastically purchasing many of the artist’s pieces, while Kara studies her with a small smile on her face.

The next date is no better.

To avoid the paparazzi, Kara decides that they should stay in again. She painstakingly sets up a private dinner at the rooftop of L-Corp -- with the help of Jess, who has now been recruited into her operations -- complete with Lena’s favorite food, a trail of candles, and Lena’s favorite flowers.

Unfortunately, the weather report that morning betrays Kara, and the skies suddenly open up in a heavy downpour, leaving her drenched like a drowned rat with nothing but doused candles and a water-logged meal.

Kara sulks, frustrated and disappointed, looking at the mess that was half a day’s efforts. The small bouquet of plumerias she had been planning to give Lena wilts, sodden in her hand. She’s a little startled when an umbrella suddenly appears over her head, and she turns to see Lena surveying the mess on her rooftop.

Instead of being annoyed, Lena smiles at the whole soaked wreckage, then at Kara, who sheepishly holds up the sodden white flowers and offers it to her with a defeated shrug. Lena takes it with a small laugh.

“Thank you.” Lena takes the flowers with one hand, the one holding the umbrella, and slips the other into Kara’s slippery hand. It makes Kara smile, and she lets Lena pull her back into the building.

In her office, Jess -- bless her, she would do wonders for Kara’s business if Kara could ever steal her away from Lena -- has laid out fluffy white towels and a blanket. Lena takes a towel and drapes it over Kara’s shoulders, rubbing lightly to dry her as much as she can.

Kara stays very still. She could insist that she can do it herself, but there’s something almost... entrancing about the way Lena bites her lip as she rubs Kara’s back and shoulders in wide, gentle circles.

When she reaches up to dry off Kara’s hair, Kara finds herself leaning forward. Lena studiously avoids her gaze for a moment, toweling off the ends of Kara’s hair. Kara’s hand gently encloses her wrist in a loose grip, giving Lena enough time to pull away if she wants to. Lena looks up, fragile, glass-green eyes finally meeting Kara’s mesmerized stare.

Lena’s hand stops moving, and Kara slips her hand from Lena’s wrist to her chin, fingers slowly tracing from her jaw to her neck until she can slip her fingers right under her head. Lena’s eyelashes flutter, and her pulse beats rapidly under Kara’s palm. She pulls Lena just a little bit closer, and she feels Lena’s breath stutter.

“Kara, I...” Lena’s lips part to form words, and Kara’s gaze is immediately drawn to her mouth, full and red and tempting.

Before Kara can lean forward, Lena is pulling away. Kara feels disappointment crash over her like the downpour of rain on the rooftop, but she lets Lena go, lets her clear her throat and straighten herself. “I-I asked Jess to get you some dry clothes. You can change in the bathroom.”

Kara dutifully accepts the clothes, taking one last moment to study Lena, before closing the door behind her. When she’s done changing, she returns to find Lena on their couch, surrounded by food from Kara’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

Lena looks up at her with wide eyes and an appreciative smile. “Well, you were right. You do look good in jeans and a t-shirt.”

Kara grins. Despite the earlier awkward moment, she thinks they’re okay. “You should see me in flannel.”

Their third date is at a dive bar.

Not exactly common date fare for a multi-billionaire, but Kara thinks Lena will like the change. They’re soon joined by Kara’s friends, and Kara chuckles a little at Lena’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. She runs her hands up and down Lena’s arms to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

She’s already drilled into her friends to be on their best behavior around Lena, but of course, her sister is the first to break that rule.

Alex smirks as she shakes Lena’s hand. “So... you’re the Lena I’ve been hearing so much about. Kara hasn’t shut up about you for weeks. Every sister night, it’s ‘Lena this’, ‘Lena that’, ‘Alex she’s just so pretty’, ‘Alex, she’s so smart, like you would not believe’, ‘God, Alex, I just wanna--- mmphff!”

Alex’s voice is muffled by Kara’s hand slapping over her mouth. “Sorry! This is my sister Alex, and she is going to be silent for the rest of the night, and -- Ew! Did you just lick my hand?? Gross!”

The rest of the night progresses smoothly. Lena manages to beat Kara soundly at pool (”It’s basic geometry”) -- and Kara’s definitely not gonna complain, because holy crap, the view she gets whenever Lena bends over to take a shot almost makes her pass out several times. Lena, however, loses spectacularly to Alex at darts (”Excuse you, I have great aim. I’ve just never played darts before.” ”Yeah, yeah, sure. Pay up, Miss CEO”). At one point, Kara hears her offering Kelly a position in her VR department, so it’s safe for Kara to assume that Lena’s having a good time.

The only tiny baby hiccup of the night is when Kara offers to get her another drink from the bar, and Lena’s eyes tighten a little before she refuses with a polite smile. Throughout the night, Lena carefully sticks to one glass of wine and no more.

When the group disperses for the night, Lena offers Kara a ride home. A few blocks in, Kara asks her the question niggling at the back of her mind.

“Why didn’t you drink anything tonight? I mean -- you don’t have to answer that, I-I was just curious. I know you have a bar in your office, and I’ve seen your collection of scotches that probably cost more than my yearly rent. But you barely touched your wine tonight.”

Lena is quiet at first, fiddling with her purse. Kara lays a soft, gentle hand on top of hers to still her nervous fingers. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything--”

“The last time I got drunk at a bar with a beautiful woman, it almost ended up ruining my life.”

The story slowly unfolds, and Lena shows Kara the tabloid pictures of her and Veronica. Kara merely sits and listens, even after Lena’s driver has parked the car in front of her apartment.

She’d known Veronica was bad news from their first and only meeting, but she hadn’t known how truly atrocious she was. Kara is acutely aware that there’s a high probability Lena was the woman Veronica had been talking about when they met. She finds herself vacillating between the need to tell Lena the truth, and the need to keep her own anonymity.

No one outside of her friends and clients knows what she does. And she had refused Veronica outright as a client. Exposing Kara’s part in this, however small and non-existential it was, would mean exposing herself as “Supergirl” to someone who’s not a client.

Besides, telling Lena would only add another complication to an already complicated mess. Lena has moved on, she’s recovering from the fallout Veronica left on her life, and telling her this will only set her back, open wounds that are probably better off left alone to heal.

Kara takes Lena’s fluttering hands in a gentle grip. She meets Lena’s eyes with a warm, steadfast gaze. “ I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this, Lena. That woman, she doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.”

Lena doesn’t speak, just looks at her with soft, heart-hurt eyes. Kara feels her chest constrict, robbing her of breath, and she knows that she would do anything to make sure this woman is never hurt again.

She doesn’t realize she’s spoken it out loud, breathed it into the space between them, until Lena drifts forward and presses their lips together.

Kara’s mouth is still half-parted, and she tastes the wine from Lena’s mouth. She feels a tingling that starts from where their mouths are pressed together, soft lips meeting soft lips, spreading through the rest of her body.

It’s like being wired alive, and Kara’s hands move of their own accord, settling firm and greedy on Lena’s hips, urging her closer. Her fingers slide under Lena’s expensive top, finding warm skin there and making Lena gasp into her mouth. Kara shifts, and Lena shifts with her, hauling herself onto Kara’s lap. Her tongue sweeps over Kara’s lower lip, filling her mouth with the taste of wine and Lena, and Kara moans into the kiss.

Eventually, Kara knows they have to stop. They’ve been parked in front of her apartment for more than half an hour with the engine running. She won’t be able to look Lena’s driver in the eye for a few weeks. Her nosy old neighbor is likely peering at them through the curtains, and who knows if there are any reporters following Lena. Despite every cell in her body protesting, she pulls away from Lena slowly, trying to catch her breath.

Lena doesn’t look like she’s faring much better. She rests her forehead against Kara’s and her possessive grip on the collar of Kara’s button-down pulls her forward. Her eyes are closed, her breathing heavy, and her lipstick is smeared in the most delicious way that almost makes Kara kiss her again.

When Lena’s eyes open, Kara can see the crystal green of them. Her heart squeezes at the brilliance and tenderness of Lena’s eyes and oh, Kara’s in trouble. Lena’s fingertips gently stroke Kara’s cheek. “You’re amazing, Kara Danvers.”

Lena lets her go, and Kara somehow manages to stumble out of the car. She stands on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, waves like an idiot with a silly grin on her face, as Lena’s smiling face disappears from her view.

Well, shit. She’s fucked.

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #alex danvers #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #veronica sinclair #hitch #supercorp au #those pick up lines are not mine. i just found them online #i was watching hitch and i was like ofc this could be supercorp #my writing

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