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bethecowboyss · 3 years ago

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Domicile - Chapter 1

“So, we’ve finally met”

Summary: You have been trapped inside dungeon walls for what feels like years, until one day a strange man appears in the dungeons to come and save you.

AN - IMPORTANT

So I just want to clarify that I have never actually seen Robin Hood prince of thieves. I have seen clips before and I briefly know about the plot and the setting of the movie as well as the tone. If I get anything wrong or I say something that doesn’t quite sound right it is because I’ve only seen clips of the movie. I have based his character in the clips but be seen and the fan fiction I’ve read so I apologize if any of this feels off. I will watch the movie soon, I just couldn’t help it and had to do a bit of writing before I did watch the movie. Regardless I hope you can enjoy this. I also apologize for any bad grammar, it took a long time writing this and right now I don’t feel like looking over the whole entire thing just to make sure that everything looks right. I will most likely fix it later.

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I had lived inside brick stone walls and cold cement floors for so long that I almost forgot what it felt like to breathe. What it felt like outside of cold grungy dungeons and running through fields, that feeling was far too foreign to me now for me to remember how it felt. I was hardly even twelve years old when I had made a foolish mistake, and got punished severely for a mere accident of a child. It was hard for me to remember my past, but it was even harder to

remember what happened yesterday or even a few minutes ago. When you're spending a majority of your life living out the same old pattern, it’s hard to tell how many years have passed or even what day it is. Every single day starts to blend together, and apart from when I experience something that’s too cruel to forget every single day feels like the last. But after living like this for so long I can hardly imagine being free. There's only one face that I can vividly remember from my childhood, and even their face is still a little bit blurry to me and hard for me to remember. But if that person was the one thing that I could hold onto for the rest of my life, then I'll do exactly that. I'd like to believe that they are important, but it could be that for some odd reason my brain just thought that they were the only thing we could remember.

From what I can see in my brain, they were small. Scrawny, at least shorter than me. They had brown hair, dark or light I can’t tell. Hazel or maybe a brown iris. They had shorter hair, shorter than shoulder length but not straight to the head. And I can almost always remember them smiling. Whenever we were together, we were always surrounded by what looked like nature. It was always trees and woodlands and grassy hills. But just once in a while I could remember a sunset. I think that one memory with them would have to be my favorite out of all of them, it was so vibrant compared to the rest. When I look back at that memory, I can actually see the colors. It’s so clear. It’s not like reminiscing on sunsets and strangers is gonna matter anyways, there's no point in wondering or having a hope about what it might feel like when I’m gonna die any day now.

You see, back when I was taken away the king made a deal with me. If I did everything he asked and served him like a maid or dutchess in training for 5 years straight, my sentence would be redacted. I should've known that It was an empty lie, I'm assuming that he didn’t think I would be able to last this long. He never did give me much food or water so I had to work extra hard to earn it for myself, it’s far too cruel. There were some days I went without even a drop of water or crumbs of food, maybe it was because I just couldn’t afford it. Whatever the reason I survived, and of course the king was not happy when I turned 17. He sentenced that I was to be hanged some time this week due to “aiding and abetting.” Which was a lie, and completely unfair for me.

But I think I’ve learned in my time serving as a maid that nothing is really “fair,” the rich keep getting richer, and the poor keep getting poorer. And by now I've accepted that it’s just what’s gonna happen, cruel or not. But even so, I think there's something deep down inside me that wants to stay alive. I don’t want to die, I haven't seen enough of the world yet. I'm not old enough, I haven't seen the good in the world, it’s just too soon. After the king was done using me for his own benefit, he threw me away. Like the rest of his faithful servants when they were no longer of use to him. And now all that protects my body are two pieces of cloth, as I sit against the cold hard wall with my bruised knees up to my neck and my face buried in my hands.

I was almost all alone, figuratively and literally. I was the only one left down in these dungeons, that was until they had brought a strange man down here not too long ago. He was tall and had quit a build, his hair was short, almost to the scalp. dirty blond hair and grayish blue eyes. He had sum scruff on his chin and was wearing what looked like old dirty clothes. By the lo oks of it he didn’t have any money, which wasn’t common at all to see a prisoner that was poor down in the dungeons. They were almost always blamed, even when the majority of the time it wasn’t their fault but the people who imprisoned them were at fault. Even while he was being hauled down into the dungeons he didn’t look scared at all. Not even mad, it looked more like he was bored. As if this was something that would get fixed in a matter of minutes. But no matter who else was with you it wasn’t like they could help either way, you were both in cells. But curiosity had gotten the better of me, as I looked from my dark vision that was seeded in my arms some of my hair fell in front of my face but not enough that I couldn’t see. He was sitting against the wall in the cell across from me. He had right leg laid out on the ground while his knee faced up against his chest, his right arm leaning on his knee while he tapped his foot. He was looking up at the ceiling whistling, almost as if he was just not worried in the slightest and was expecting something to come and save him. I was awfully confused, I wanted to know what he was anticipating. I wanted to know what was going to happen next. It’s not like I was going to make a conversation with him though, I’m afraid that my voice is much to strained to do that right now. I haven spoken in ages, I almost forgot what my own voice sounded like. Even if I did want to make conversation, I doubt that he wanted to talk to me. His mind seemed much more focused on something else besides chit chatting with your prison buddy. I slowly descended my head back into the pit of my arms, where I could feel myself drifting. “I wonder, I can’t remember what the sun looks like. I'd like to see it one last time.” As I let my thoughts bounce off the tip of my brain I started to feel my eyelids get heavy as everything around me turned black. ….that was, until I heard what felt like an explosion.

My eyes shot wide open out of pure fear and reflexes, I wrapped myself tighter in my own arms. I was afraid that this would be my last moment before I met death. But to my suprise, it was not the king or an executioner that I saw when I opened my eyes, but a group of men.

Two of the guards that were presumably at the top of the stairs slowly tumbled down the stone colored spiral stairs as the group of men ran down the stairs, in what looked like to be a hurry. Probably not guards, but definitely not welcomed guessed either.

“James should be fending off the rest of the guards, but we don’t have much time so move quickly you got that!”

Yes sir!”

I was drowsy and dizzy, I had not been functioning properly so it took me longer to realize what was happening but I think that I ve finally connected the dots.

These must be Robin Hood's men. You had heard about them before from all the gossiping the other maids would spill during break time in the servant room, but you had never actually seen them. They were a group of thrives, ruffians, scoundrels. At Least that’s all you've ever heard, that’s really all they've ever been described as. Not like I had much of an opinion of them, it’s not like I could say one statement is false and the other is true because you never really got to see them up until this point.

Most of them were dressed in rags and cloth hoods, the kind of thing you'd see a bandit were. The man who had been in the prison across from you must've been a part of Robin Hood’s group, his attention had been drawn away from the ceiling at this point, a smirk on his face.

“Allan” The group of men surrounded his cell and chanted his name, the man in the front of the crowd wore a hood. He swiftly pulled his ax out of what appeared to be a weapon holder attached to his belt, almost all the men that had been in front of the cell had some sort of weapon. Whether it be a bow, sword, or another form of weapon. He was wearing a pair of fingerless gloves. His hands looked very soft but somehow rough at the same time. Before you knew it, he started hacking at the hinges of the jail cell helping his man escape. As I watched all of this unfold I could hear banging and muffled shouting at what I assumed was the door at the top of the stairs, there was a man that popped his head out from the top of the stairs.

“ I don’t think that we can hold them off much longer!” another guy who had been sitting by the cell had rushed to the top of the stairs

“You give us more distraction time, and i'll stay here and guard the door for a little bit longer!”

I couldn’t see what was going on but from what I was hearing the door sounded like it opened for just a brief moment and was slammed and shut tight yet again. By now, the man allegedly named Allan had broken free of his cell and almost immediately everyone started to leave as fast as they could, sprinting out one by one. I watched every one of them flee the scene like a deer, except for one. He was the guy that was leading the group, the one that pulled the ax out of his weapon holder. I could tell he was going to leave right after the guy in front of him did, but then he caught a glimpse of me and stopped dead in his tracks.

I don’t think I had ever made eye contact with someone this long up until this point. And even though our eyes only met for a brief moment, I don’t think I'll forget this moment for as long as I live. Despite the fact that we probably only locked eyes for a brief second, I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. They were the color of Hazelnut, green but still brown in a way. They reminded me of not a luscious green field but more so a field, the color of gold and full of not grass but wheat. I had never seen such a color my whole life, it was extraordinary. It was like the color of his eyes were one in a million, a kind of color you didn’t see everyday. One that belonged to him, and him alone. He kneeled down before me, pulling his hand over the tip of his hood and moving it to the back of his head, I can really see what he looks like now. It’s not like I couldn’t see his face beforehand, but it was much harder. He was probably the prettiest man I've seen in a while. Brown, brunette hair that almost fell down to his shoulders and right in front of his eyes. And an almost soft yet visible jawline. He looked bewildered, maybe as to why I was here or who I was.

“Hello? You seem…” He looked as though he was at a loss for words, probably egging me on to add something else, even as much as I wanted to respond to him my throat clogged up and I entirely forgot how to speak. It was as if I had lost my ability to think or speak at all.

He had looked up at the ceiling once more, licking his lips and eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to debate about what he was gonna do next. He looked back at me with his eyebrows still furrowed, biting the bottom of his lips. After a brief moment of neither of us doing anything, he whipped out his ax from before and started hacking at the hinges of my cell. I was confused, this doesn’t make any sense? He came here for his team mate, not me? Wouldn’t that only slow him down? Was there a reason why he was helping me? What benefit did that give him?

“Will, let’s go! We need to go! Just leave them here!”

“No way! Do you have any idea what ___ is gonna do if he gets his hands on them? I’m not leaving them here!” He shouted back in the direction of the voice still hacking at the hinges of my cell. I looked at him almost doe eyed, I still needed so many more answers… Once he finally busted through the iron bars he pulled them apart and walked through, leaning back down when he got in front of me.

“Look you don’t have to tell me anything right now, but if you want to get out of here and live you're gonna have to trust me, okay?” I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks for a brief second, it’s almost like I forgot how to function when he stood right in front of me. It's odd because I've never acted this way before. It confused me. Why was I acting so strange? But even if I was too baffled, I had to do something or otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here much longer. So in utter dismay I hesitantly nodded my head, what happened next is something I definitely did not expect. Before I knew I heard a thud, as the door at the top of the stairs had slammed against the wall. without even thinking about it, the man who had been willing to help me immediately grabbed my hand swiping me off my feet as he lifted my feet to the ground and started sprinting with my hand in his. I was right about before, his hands felt very soft but somehow rough at the same time. And despite the fact I was running hand in hand from a dangerous guard that was not what clouded my mind in the moment. The guy that had grabbed my hand did not seem phased by almost anything either, I’m guessing he had done this more than once. And even though I was running with him as fast as I could, I couldn’t help but trip over my own feet. It had been a while since I had walked, so I was a little bullleged. Especially when running harshly through rough terrain and forest. The man guiding me with his hand had stopped and turned to face me but only for a second, the next thing I knew he was carrying me on his back.

“I do apologize for acting like this so suddenly, but I fear that if we get slowed down any further we'll be in big trouble,”

I didn’t retailite in the slightest, instead I slowly rested my head into his soldiers and closed my eyes.

After what felt like a matter of seconds but also days at the same time, I could sense that he was walking much more steadily now and had gotten much less tense. By the way it felt around me, he had stopped running as well. The only thing I could hear as my head was still buried in his neck was the shuffling as his eyes were he probably readjusted me to make himself more comfortable. After a few minutes of being too scared to open my eyes, as I did not know who this man even was, I went against my better judgment and slowly opened my eyelids. We're in the middle of the forest now, but not too far between where right now there was some sort of community up ahead. It was like a camp. There were a bunch of people waiting at the entrance, hollering and cheering at what I'm assuming was their victory in getting one of their men back. Even though I had never been there before, and it was fairly not made of many materialistic things, I couldn’t help but feel like wonderment. My eyes wide as we walked through the entrance, my hands on the guy’s shoulders who had been carrying me tightened. When we had finally gotten in everybody recoiled for a little bit, patting each other on the back and exclaiming how much they missed one another. That was until they noticed the strange person that had been hanging on one of their mens back like a khola. The group of women that were in the camp all took a quick look at me.

“Honestly, give them some space to breathe Scarlet! Why does this child look so frightened? And where on earth did they come from?” I was a little bit flattered that they were so concerned, but also scared for the man who had been holding me as well. He let me get off his back as some of the girls grabbed my arms and pulled me into their group. One of the ladies who had talked before stood infront of this “scarlet” and pointed a finger right in his face “Wanna explain why it took so long? Where did this child come from? Are they hurt? Did you do something?” She was throwing questions at him left and right. He looked like his head was about to turn that’s how confused he was, he simply put his hands up in the air and tried to answer

“Lady Helena, I was-”

“I think I've heard enough out of you! Now, now, come along dear. Well get you cleaned up, there's no need to worry.”

“I don’t think I had ever seen someone change demeanors that fast up until this moment. And before I knew it I had been taken away where they showed me where fresh spring water was so I could clean myself, along with that they gave me some spare clothes. They didn’t fit exactly right, but it wasn’t like I was going to complain about something as trivial as that, it was better than the rag I was wearing earlier and I was certainly grateful for that. When they were helping me fit into the clothes, the lady before had told me about the man who had helped me escape.

“I know he can be a lot sometimes but he really is a good kid, he’s a troublemaker I tell you so don’t get involved in any of his antics. I know I seemed angry at him earlier but it was only because of how reckless he was acting.”

“I believe you”

The women was a little bit shocked,

“My dear your voice is very strained, are you sure youll be okay?”

“She looked at me with concern, but I only told her that I would be fine. I just needed to use it a bit more before it went back to normal,

“Okay, but take it easy, will you love?”

I only nodded, she was being so nice to me and yet I couldn’t understand why. How come all of these people are so kind? Once I had gotten cleaned up I was invited to join at a fire pit in the middle of this camp. It was after dark so everybody was probably gathering around to eat food. Not like I had eaten anything, I didn't feel too hungry. It was a lot to handle so much excitement in one day that I didn’t think I could stomach anything so I just sat there. I had realized that the man from before was nowhere to be seen at the fire pit, it made me a little bit disappointed. I was hoping I could have greeted him properly, the way we first met wasn’t exactly all that formal. I had watched everybody leave as they went back to where they lived, I was guessing that each one of them lived in their own little huts. I found it fascinating, the way they live out their lives here. As I got wrapped up in my own thoughts, I guess I hadn’t noticed a person sneaking up from behind me and grabbing my shoulder. Out of pure instinct, I squeezed my eyes shut and scrunched up my nose, punching whoever was behind me in the jaw. Turns out it was not somebody trying to hurt me, but the man from before who hadn’t been there at the fire pit.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this guilty in a long time, i immediately covered my mouth with my hand and started apologizing profusely.

“Oh gosh I I’m so sorry I swear I just could tell that it was you sneaking up behind me and I-“

Out of no we’re he had bursted into a fit of laughter, many of the things this man did confused me. This moment being one of them.

I slowly removed my hands from my mouth, he had his hand on his forehead as his face was scrunched up from laughter, he slowly started to calm down and eventually sat down right next me, he was still chuckling a little bit.

I looked at him with a “are you gonna explain why you were laughing?” face and he just kinda gave me a little shrug , laughter still Irradiating from him.

“I’ve just never had some body punch me in the face the second time treating them is all, you just shocked me little.”

He wasn’t chuckling at me anymore, but he was wearing a heartwarming smile.

“Your smile frames your face very well.”

Wait. Why did I just say that? It happened so suddenly I didn’t even have time to think about!

I thought I was about to die of embarrassment, that was until he broke out into a fit of laughter, again! Not as loud as the first time but still noticeable

“Oh, you are quite honest! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as vague as you.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that,

“Oh, before we start talking any further I should probably tell you my name.”

“It’s Scarlet, isn’t it?”

He let out a little stifled laughter

“What? Is it not?”

This is starting to becoming more and more embarrassing every second I’m with him

“Actually, it’s Will. My last name is Scarlet though so I guess in a way you were still right.”

That time he just looked over at me and smirked

“Will Scarlet? So you are the one from Robin Hood’s little gang.”

“We’ll I wouldn’t like to think of it so much as a gang as it is more of a community.”

For a little while longer we both just stared into the fire pit at the fire that was about to burn out,

“Is it true what they say about all of you?”

“Hmm?”

He look at me, I could see him from the corner of my eyes

“About all of you being no good thief’s that steal and break laws?”

He looked like he was stumbled for a minute, as if he got caught up in his own words and didn’t know what to say.

“Well yes I guess in a sense that’s true. We steal, and we break the law.”

I let a little Hmph I stared a little bit more intensely into the pit of the burning fire.

I had looked to the side of me and realized that Will moved closer to me.

“But that’s also because we only steal what we need. I would never take without a good cause. Nobody here is really a dirty no good thief, we’re each other’s family. Our own blood. And If taking what we need to survive once in a while qualifies as being “no good thief’s that steal and break the law” then call me a thief.”

He just looked at me with a face I couldn’t quite describe,

“No. I think I like Will much better.”

He just couldn’t help but laugh at me again, his laugh really did fill everything in the atmosphere to its fullest. Almost made me feel light headed. It was almost contagious.

He started to lean over me and Place something above my shoulders, it was his cloth.

“Will I-“

He put his pointer finger up to my lips and shushed me before I could say anything else.

“It’s cold, and if your staying out here any longer you need to make sure you don’t get sick. Don’t worry about it, I have plenty anyways.”

He started to lift his feet from the tree stump we’re both sitting on,

“You mean the one other cloth you own?”

He just smiled at me, with that same gentle smile.

“You haven’t even known for more than twenty for hours and you already got me figured out completely.”

Suddenly he switched from happy and playful to a serious look on his face (I could tell he was still joking with me, well at least a little.)

“But seriously, don’t get sick.”

He pointed his finger out towards me as if to say “I mean it.”

“Your such a mom.” I just chuckled under my breathe, I don’t think I had ever made conversation with some one so easily before.

He started to walk backwards away from me putting his hand out in front of himself and dramatically bowing,

“Fair night…?” He looked up from the ground still half way in his bowing position, eyebrow cocked..

“Y/N.”

“Huh, what a pretty name. And to think I hadn’t known it up until this point.”

He had finally finished showing off his royal gesture as he walks off into the distance probably towards his shelter, and while he walks he throws his hand up in the air one more time as to wish me goodbye.

I couldn’t help but smile at him. I looked back into the fire.

I definitely think that this place feels like

Home.

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AN - Hello, I hope you enjoyed this first little chapter of a series I’m starting Called Domicile. This is gonna be Will Scarlett x Reader series (From Robin Hood Prince of Thieves.) Along with falling down the Heathers (Movie) rabbit hole, I have also grown an unhealthy obsession with Christian Slater which leads us to here. I have tried finding fan fiction for this beautiful man but there is very little, so I thought why not do it myself? So here we are! Fun fact Domicile means home in French.

#robin hood prince of thieves #will scarlett #Will Scarlett x reader #christian slater #jd x reader #Jason Dean #reader insert

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shushiyuii · 4 years ago

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Subject T0M au

This is an Au I’ve had stockpiled for a while wkakdnknak. It’s going to multiple parts too, once I get to working on those. If you have any questions you’re welcome to ask!

I hope you guys enjoy it (Also gimme your fucking requests UwU /lh)

Warnings: Experimentation, injury? And Horror elements (It’s mainly fluff i promise :3)

Words: 3K

Document – T0MMY1NN1T

Assigned to: Doctor Wilbur Soot Watson

Description: Subject T0M was once a [REDACTED] by the name of [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. His age is of kin to an elder teen, probably around the age of [REDACTED] to [REDACTED].

The appearance of Subject T0M is like a human, they have blonde hair and pale skin. Their most common height is 6’3 on average but can change depending on the form. Their face, arms and legs are covered in a black substance of unknown origin, it mainly takes on half of their body and appears to be almost liquid.

Their face is completely black, the only thing apparent is their fangs like a wolf when they open their mouth to feed, multiple fangs, the only other feature on Subject T0M’s face is their light blue eyes that glow in the dark.

Subject T0M isn’t very intelligent, they have some semblance of human intelligence, understanding simple language and commands.

They’re quite approachable as well but Subject T0M is to be approached with caution, as they could be quite dangerous. If angered there’s no knowing what Subject T0M is capable of.

Their abilities consist of being able to manipulate the material of their body, being able to change shape and size, their favourite is to mimic those around them. It is not an exact copy; it is apparent that Subject T0M is themselves because the material of their body will still be there even if they changed forms.

They can also create weaponry and different things from their material but again not exact copies, they’re quite harmless usually.

Subject T0M is to be assigned to Rookie Doctor Wilbur Soot. Under the watch of Philza Watson.

Entry 01 – 02/09/20��

So today was my first-day researching Subject T0M, from what I can say so far is that they’re quite interesting but so far besides the examinations, they haven’t shown much behaviour. Only staring at me from a distance.

Also, I’m not used to this sort of thing like writing documents and reports, not my favourite thing in the world but it’s not the worst thing either. So, Subject T0M already has a lot of his abilities recorded, I’m just here to see if he develops any noteworthy changes and watch over the guy.

Currently, there is no change in behaviour, he just stares down at me at a distance, like I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, perhaps that’s the case?

He seems so lonely in that containment cell, it’s just an empty white box surrounded by glass, perhaps at some point I could request an upgrade to higher-ups for the lil’ fella? That way he can have a more comfortable place. Rather than a highly lit, bland, cold box.

Entry 02 – 05/09/20—

So Today, Subject T0M did something quite interesting, it’s a drastic difference from the last few days by just staring at me through the windows of the cells.

You see, instead of just watching me from the other side of the office, as usual, it can get quite boring in the office once you finish the days' assignments of reports, schedules, contracts and more and having to watch this guy and do the usual routine gets quite boring so I decided to work on some personal things and bring my guitar, so I could work on my songs, practising the guitar and stuff.

So, I played some things, the next thing I know is that one moment I’m singing, the next in shock as I look over in disbelief. Subject T0M had moved over towards the window, his hands and face on the glass, dead staring me in my eyes, they were filled with curiosity and interest like an infant listening to music for the first time.

A way to describe it would be that Subject T0M seemed so much happier, but when I stopped, he looked almost disappointed, I stared at him in amazement for a moment and I started to play again, and his expression went back to being amazed.

My music seems to interest Subject T0M so perhaps I should do more research and experiments with different kinds of music to see which they prefer?

Not only that but it’s nice to have someone rather than my dad that enjoys my music. They’re almost my second biggest fan. I’m looking forward to seeing more of this kid.

Entry 03 – 06/09/20—

As of now, I have started the experimentation of music with Subject T0M, he seems to prefer rather upbeat, pop music and general music.

I also played him some songs from popular games, one of them being The Able Sister’s from Animal Crossing, he really seemed to enjoy that one.

Besides the experiments, I’ve started to talk to Subject T0M as it does get lonely here, plus he’s the only other guy here in the department. Although he doesn’t talk, he’s a great listener, nodding whenever I state my opinion and even trying to communicate verbally from time to time, even though he doesn’t seem to have the ability to speak.

And I’ve also seemed to have started a habit of calling Tom or Tommy, it suits him! He’s also been showing more personality, he seems more aggressive like a gremlin but not in a bad way, he’s just displaying more emotion it seems.

Entry 04 – 09/09/20—

So, the experiments and communication of Tommy have made significant progress. He’s become feistier and more vocal, he’s not aggressive in a physical sense, just annoyingly loud. He’s like a fucking child.

And today was another experiment with Tom, with the test subject being myself since it seems safe enough, so need to gather others or security over it.

I entered his containment cell, and the moment I did, Tommy showed no difference in behaviour, to begin with, just a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Probably because this was the first time, he had seen me so close.

I carefully approached at first but then a thought came to me. So far I’ve been treating him like a human so maybe treating him the same way now would have the same effects?

I sat down next to him and started talking to him as usual, and he slowly started to move closer to me, cautiously. He seemed almost nervous, but his focus was on me, rather than himself. I found it rather odd, maybe something is wrong?

Again, he tried talking back but of course, it sounded like a fucking crack pipe, so it didn’t quite work. But he was talking and for some reason, it just brought a smile to my face.

I felt like an older brother would be a way to describe it, I made a promise in my head to protect him. We even tried singing together, it was a lot of fun, I look forward to spending more time with him.

Entry 05 – 12/09/20—

The past couple of days have been a lot of fun with Tommy like I’ve gained a friend. You see, growing up I was always a bit lonely, I was social, but I never found myself clicking with anyone because nobody had the same interests as me, so I turned to focus more on my studies, science in fact like my father told me too. And look at me now!

I’m a training researcher in the same facility as my dad, as this place is one of a kind opportunity, so I guess I got pretty lucky. And it seems Tommy agrees maybe, he reminds me of well me, I don’t want him to be lonely like I was, maybe I could arrange a meeting between other monsters?

Entry 06 – 14/09/20—

Tommy and I have been bonding a lot more lately and I’ve also improved a lot myself with finishing work sooner and taking up more assignments.

Speaking of which my father said if I keep this up, I may get more recognition in the facility, maybe even a promotion which I’m happy about. I’ve sent in a request to the higher-ups to allow Tommy communication of other monsters to which I hope they approve.

Besides that, I was talking to Tommy as per usual and he displayed a different emotion, excitement. He seemed eager to show me something and when I asked, “What is it?”. His form changed to be slightly taller and more of his black substance covered his body but after a while, his form changed to be similar to my own, he tried copying me.

Like physically. It was quite surprising if I’m honest, my shocked expression to Tommy made him realise the situation and immediately changed back and tried to reassure me, I felt bad and tried to reassure him it was okay. It’s funny to look back on.

Entry 07 – 15/09/20—

I got approval from the higher-ups, probably getting special treatment since my dad is one of the higher-ups, others aren’t normally so lucky. Dad, or should I say Doctor Philza? He said we could have a meeting between Tommy and his subject, R4NB00 or as he says Ranboo.

Dad said that his subject Ranboo does need to socialise more since he appears to have symptoms of social anxiety so maybe this will do them both some good since they both seem to be around the same age. Like Tommy, Ranboo only socialises with him and another subject T3chn0, or the blade, blood god. He’s got quite a reputation around here.

Anyways, I’ll say what I know about Subject R4NB00 as of his report, so I know to look over it in case of emergency.

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

Report 16/09/20-- - Meeting of Subject T0M and Subject R4NB00

Today was the meeting of Subject T0M and R4NB00. Both were properly secured successfully and safely in transportation cells with the required security of 5 guards each in each truck and successfully transported to the meeting facility without stress or failure.

Both researchers were safely secured behind the required monitoring window.

The meeting was rather successful between the two creatures. To begin with, when the two saw each other they both maintained distance, for Subject R4NB00 it was because they were anxious about meeting another creature and for Subject T0M, meeting somebody else rather than their researcher.

Subject T0M was the first to contact Subject R4NB00 by trying to communicate verbally with them, it was unsuccessful and resulted in Subject R4NB00 being confused. The two sat in silence for a moment longer until Subject T0M attempted another move of contact by cautiously approaching Subject R4NB00, which resulted in them backing up into a nearby wall and trying to get away from Subject T0M.

Subject T0M then backed off and changed their form to mimic R4NB00, this is theorised to be Subject T0M trying to either comfort or entertain Subject R4NB00, they then changed back into their regular form.

Despite being confused, Subject R4NB00 seemed to notice that Subject T0M meant no harm and then tried to approach subject T0M. Subject T0M did not move.

When Subject R4NB00 approached, there was approximately 1 meter between the two, Subject R4NB00 looked at the two researchers to look for approval to which he got from Doctor Philza via a thumbs up.

Subject T0M curious looked to where R4NB00 was looking and noticed the two researchers and made a noise of happiness towards his researcher, to which Doctor Soot responded with a smile and a thumbs up.

Both Subjects looked back at each other and sat down beside each other. Subject R4NB00 began to communicate with Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 introduced themselves and made small communication, to which Subject T0M responded positively too, as they couldn’t communicate back. After that, the meeting was concluded.

After their meeting, when asked about the meeting by their researchers. Subject R4NB00 responded positively to seeing Subject T0M again and talked positively about them despite not being able to communicate.

Subject T0M appeared upset a few moments after the meeting, scratching at the windows of his cell, whining. When asked if he wished to see Subject R4NB00 again, he responded positively. Another meeting between the two has been arranged.

Entry 08 – 17/09/20—

Tommy seems to miss his new friend quite a bit but it’ll be a while before the next meeting between them as it has to be approved again and it’ll be a while.

Doing our normal routine keeps him happy for a while but if I leave him for more than 15 minutes he begins to whine again. I wasn’t quite sure what to do as I couldn’t keep him company all day.

On my lunch break I talked to my co-worker Doctor Puffy about the matter, she’s a smart gal and rather motherly, she reminds me of my mom at times. She suggested that I give Tommy a gift, like a plush bear to befriend so he wouldn’t feel so lonely while I was gone.

So, I quickly made my way to a store, it was rather odd to see myself, an adult in a toy aisle but I found a decent plush. It’s a Minecraft spider plushie. I gave Tommy the plushie and introduced him to the plush, when I asked him what he wanted to name the plush he responded with a sound, it honestly sounded like he said shroud, so I suggested it. He responded happily so I guess we now have Shroud the spider.

Now I’ve got the peril of getting medication for my father as he’s somehow gotten sick.

Incident Report #19283 – 18/09/20-- -

No staff or other creatures were harmed during the containment breach, minor damages to the building, broken walls and broken windows within the cell. All to be fixed within a minimum of 3 hours. Subject T3CHN0 was successfully contained in a holding cell as we interviewed him as to why he breached containment, to which he responded that “Nobody told me where Phil was.”.

Doctor Philza was then contacted to talk to Subject T3CHN0 to explain his current predicament of being sick, to which Subject T3CHN0 huffed in response and refused to cooperate with us further.

Subject T3CHN0 escaped containment in a rampage, the reasoning being as he was not informed of his researchers’ location, as Doctor Philza was sick for the past two days before the incident. Both researcher and creature are rather close with each other, as to why the Subject was upset.

Prior to the incident (recorded by security cameras), Both Subjects of Doctor Philza were speaking to each other about the current location of their researcher, both concluded that neither of them had any idea of where the Doctor was, both subjects ask their temporary carer as to where their researchers’ location was, to which the carer wouldn’t respond so Subject T3CHN0 decided to find his answers.

Subject T3CHN0 broke through his containment cell’s window and then proceeded to break through multiple walls trying to find his researcher.

(The document then goes into detail about what T3CHN0 did during his rampage before he was contained)

During the rampage, Subject T3CHN0 broke through the walls of Doctor Soot’s office and his creature, Subject T0M. As Subject T3CHN0 entered the office, Doctor Soot was frightened at the unexpected visitor as tried to get away from the approaching Subject T3CHN0, Doctor Soot demanded that he get away, to which T3CHN0 huffed in response.

Subject T0M took some time to register that his researcher was in danger, but when he heard he did, he sprang into the action of defending his researcher.

His form changed into one of being described as fearsome, they changed heights to one over 15 ft tall, his hands turned into claws, long sharp fangs became visible, a sharp tail and pair of horns after appeared with this form. (Doctor Soot has been requested to do further research into this form)

Subject T0M roared in warning towards the other, then proceeded to pounce through their containment cells window, shards of glass scattered throughout the room.

They then ran towards their researcher and in a crouched position, picked up his fallen researcher and held him close to his chest, growling furiously at T3CHN0.

The two Subjects stared at each other for a moment until T3CHN0 began to communicate verbally by asking where his researcher was, Doctor Soot was too much in a state of shock to respond.

Subject T0M held his researcher closer and tried to comfort him in a way of purring, even nuzzling his researcher for a response, to which Subject T3CHN0 left due to being impatient.

Subject T0M continued to hold onto his researcher and eventually Doctor Soot snapped out of his state to stare in awe of Subject T0M, When Subject T0M saw their researcher responding he made worried sounds to them, to which Doctor Soot responded with a laugh and said: “I’m fine buddy”.

Subject T3CHN0 was then contained shortly afterwards.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #sizeshifter!tommy #tiny!ranboo #tiny!wilbur #giant!tommy #giant!techno #tiny!phil #Shushi's writings #Subject t0m au

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emospritelet · 3 years ago

Text

Heatstroke - chapter 24/24

Last time, Gold confronted Zelena over trying to frame Regina, and Lacey caught the whole show on tape. This is the final chapter! Happy endings FTW!

[AO3]

Lacey set down the camera on the shop counter, and raised an eyebrow at Gold.

“So,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

He inclined his head, lifting a hand and letting it fall.

“It appears you have a story to tell about Miss West,” he remarked. “I feel the choice is very much yours. Perhaps Mr Glass can be persuaded that running an exposé is in the public interest.”

Lacey hesitated.

“Yeah, I think he would,” she acknowledged. “It’s just - Mayor Mills doesn’t know, does she? About Zelena.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think maybe we should tell her,” said Lacey. “Before it all comes out, I mean. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” he agreed, and let out a heavy sigh, his head rolling back. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is?”

He raised his head again, sending her a stern look.

“It appears I’ve discovered a conscience,” he said. “The rumour was I didn’t have one. I blame you for this outrage.”

Lacey giggled, and leaned in to kiss him.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me to break the news?” she asked, and he offered his arm.

“To the Mayor’s office,” he said. “I’m sure Regina will be just delighted to see us.”

“This can’t be true.” Regina was staring at Lacey’s phone, having watched the recording twice. “This - this is impossible!”

“This must be a hell of a shock,” said Lacey, and Regina shook her head.

“I always thought she disliked me, but Mal told me I was being paranoid,” she said. “All this time she was plotting to ruin my life because my mother abandoned her? The nerve of the woman!”

“I guess sibling rivalry’s tough to deal with,” said Lacey. “Makes me glad I’m an only child.”

“Well, she certainly has my mother’s ambition and vindictiveness,” said Regina, with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the father?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Gold. “Did your mother ever hint that you had a half-sister?”

Regina shook her head.

“She never spoke about her youth,” she said. “Other than to tell me she had to fight for anything she could get and I should do the same.”

She handed the phone back to Lacey and frowned at Gold.

“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demanded, and he smiled.

“I heard what you did,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I asked,” she said coldly. “I know you, Gold. Were you holding onto this information until it was of use to you?”

“You think I’m working against you?” he asked, in a mild tone.

“I think you never do anything that doesn’t benefit you.”

“Well, perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. “Or perhaps we assess risks and benefits differently. Either way, you have Miss French to thank for the investigation of her past and this recording. I merely - encouraged a confession.”

“Quite the sleuthing team,” said Regina, in a dry tone. “Can we expect a new office in town? French Gold, Private Investigators?”

“I don’t mind investigating his privates,” said Lacey, and Gold shot her a very level look as Regina curled her lip.

“Thanks, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening trying and failing to get that image out of my head.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lacey cheerfully.

“The question for you,” said Gold, “is how are you going to handle this? Miss French has quite a scoop on her hands, but she wanted to bring it to you first before raising it with Mr Glass.”

Regina shot Lacey a grateful look before sitting back in her chair with a sigh.

“There’s supposed to be a debate,” she said. “The two of us up on stage. You think it’s her intention to reveal the whole sordid story in front of the whole town?”

“I don’t believe she wants the rest of the town to know,” said Gold. “If they did, then her whole campaign reeks of sour grapes. She’ll want to play on the image she’s created while she’s been here. However inaccurate it is.”

Regina growled under her breath.

“I can’t believe I’m having to go through this charade!” she snapped. “I’m supposed to stand there and - and debate her when she’s trying to frame me for corruption and destroy my life!”

“We don’t have any actual evidence that she’s tried to frame you,” said Lacey, and Regina nodded impatiently.

“I know, I know. Nothing court worthy on that tape, however much she hinted at it,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand it over to the Sheriff, get him to look into it.”

“If you agree to an exclusive interview with me after the debate, sure,” said Lacey quickly, and almost blushed as Gold shot her an approving look. Regina drummed her fingers on the desk.

“She’s far too good for you, Gold,” she said abruptly. “I hope you know that.”

He smirked at that, winking at Lacey.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

Gold was finding it hard to stop grinning like an idiot now that he and Lacey were dating, and even found himself unexpectedly granting rent extensions, much to the surprise of nervous tenants. He made dinner for her again later in the week, and she stayed the night, Darcy curled at their feet as they drifted into sleep. It was pleasant being nuzzled awake by a purring cat and finding Lacey in his arms. It was a feeling he could get used to.

They had eventually managed to finish the interview, most of which was carried out in bed, and he had found himself telling her things he had previously had no intention of revealing. He blamed that on Lacey; it was difficult to maintain his usual cool distance when she was wearing his discarded shirt and looking at him as though he was a particularly delicious snack. She kept her word about giving him the final say on the article, however, and upon reading her draft, he noted that she had kept some of the more personal details to herself. He only felt the need to redact a couple of minor points about his early life, but was happy to let the remainder stand as it was. If the rest of Storybrooke was surprised at the intimacy of the piece and his sudden desire to be open about his life - well, they could all go and fuck themselves, as far as he was concerned.

The only opinions he cared about were those of his family, and it wasn’t too long before Neal called. Gold sighed as he looked at the number flashing on his phone. They’re gonna tease me relentlessly about this. Emma especially.

Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he picked up.

“Dad, hi,” said Neal. “Thought you might have called to let us know how your big social occasion went. You’re not avoiding the issue, right?”

“Of course not,” said Gold. “Been a busy week, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Emma thought you’d say that.” Neal sounded amused. “She’s been dying to find out about the dance, so I said I’d call for an update.”

“Tell her she needs a better hobby than worrying about my social life,” said Gold dryly. “How’s Henry? I was wondering what to get for his birthday.”

“Nice attempt at deflection, but I’m not done with you,” said Neal. “Come on, how did it go?”

“Uh - it was fine,” said Gold.

“Did you ask Lacey to dance, like I said?”

“Yes.” Gold hesitated. “We’re - uh - sort of dating now.”

Neal whooped, making him grin.

“Way to go! See, I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, well.” Gold scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s early days, I suppose. Very early days, but it’s going well.”

“I am so happy for you, really. Wait until I tell Emma.”

“She’s gonna tease me, isn’t she?” said Gold dryly.

“No more than usual.”

“A lot, then.”

“Hey, her teasing comes from a place of love.”

“Hmm.” Gold was amused. “Well, you can tell her I love her too.”

“And you can tell Lacey we can’t wait to meet her,” said Neal, and Gold’s grin widened.

“I believe the feeling’s mutual,” he said.

“Good. How about in two weeks’ time?”

Gold smirked to himself.

“Excellent timing,” he said. “It’s the Mayoral debate and election.”

“I’m almost certain we can find something better to do than listen to some crusty old politicians.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Gold. “It could be an interesting night.”

The evening of the debate arrived more quickly than Lacey thought possible, and she was nervous about more than just reporting the evening’s events. Gold’s son and daughter-in-law were due any minute, and there was a tiny part of her that kept whispering that they wouldn’t approve, that they would wonder why the hell Gold, with his money and power and class, was dating the likes of her. Stressing over her coverage of the election was a welcome distraction from the unwelcome internal monologue, and she concentrated on getting her things together for the debate, checking the recording equipment on Gold’s kitchen table and fretting about the sound quality.

“You’ve already checked it three times,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to be writing the front page article!” she snapped. “What happens if I fuck up and don’t get anything recorded? I’m gonna look like a total idiot and Sidney won’t trust me with anything more complex than the hot dog eating contest!”

“I can record everything on my phone, if you’re worried,” he said. “Besides, don’t you do shorthand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently, and kissed her head. “I promise.”

The doorbell rang, and Lacey started, heart thumping.

“Relax, that’ll be Neal and Emma,” said Gold, heading for the door. Lacey frowned at his back.

“Relax, my arse,” she muttered, shoving the recording equipment into its bag.

There were voices from the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. Footsteps from the doorway made her look up, and she was greeted by a warm smile and an outstretched hand. Gold’s son had his eyes, and curling dark hair above a ready grin.

“I’m Neal,” he said. “Really pleased to meet you.”

“Lacey,” she said, shaking his hand. “Uh - likewise.”

She was reminded vividly of the fact that she had flashed him on their first encounter, and felt a blush start to rise in her cheeks. If Neal was thinking of it too, he was better at hiding it than she was. His wife was a pretty blonde, with a kind look in her eyes and a plump baby in her arms, who was glancing around curiously at everything.

“This is Emma,” added Neal, “and that’s Henry.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Emma, shooting Gold a teasing look.

“Well, I won’t ask if it was all good, because I’m willing to bet it wasn’t,” said Lacey, and they chuckled.

“Maybe not at first,” admitted Emma. “Don’t hold it against the old bastard, though.”

“Oh, believe me, the feeling was mutual,” said Lacey.

“I’m standing right here,” said Gold evenly.

Lacey caught Emma’s eye and returned her grin. She felt herself relax a little, and leaned over to kiss Gold’s cheek.

“We got there in the end,” she said. “Uh - how hungry are you guys? I didn’t even think about dinner.”

She shot Gold a look, hoping that he would suggest something, and he nodded.

“We’ll head to Granny’s after the debate,” said Gold. “I have no doubt that Lacey will be demonstrating her excellent skill as a journalist, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“No pressure then,” said Lacey, and he smiled.

“You’re writing the article for the Mirror front page,” he said. “You have an exclusive with the Mayor herself after the debate. Sidney Glass clearly believes you to be as capable as I do.”

“Yeah, because I got that interview with you,” she said. “I didn’t tell him we were naked when I got most of that info.”

Neal closed his eyes with a pained expression.

“Shows ingenuity if you ask me,” said Emma abruptly. “I can usually get a ton of stuff out of Neal when we’re naked. Must run in the family.”

It was Gold’s turn to look pained. Neal put his hands over his face with a heavy sigh, and Lacey and Emma chuckled. Lacey decided that she liked both Emma and Neal very much. She zipped her bag and nodded to Gold.

“Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

The town hall was filled with residents, chatting amongst themselves and casting curious glances at the empty stage. Ruby was seated next to Leroy on the third row back, and she winked at Lacey as she and Gold took their own seats. Ruby had been delighted to hear that the two of them had started seeing one another, and had only made a salacious comment to Gold on one occasion. Maybe two.

“Big turnout,” said Neal, glancing around. “I had no idea the people in this town were so into politics.”

“Usually they don’t bother,” said Gold. “The Mayor getting some competition appears to have piqued their interest.”

As though his voice had summoned her, Regina walked onto the stage, chin held high, looking calm and competent in a sharp black suit. Zelena followed, in a green dress with a soft silk scarf around her neck and gold hoops in her ears. A green folder was tucked under her arm, her hair tied up, and Lacey thought she was going for the image of a respectable school teacher. A gleam in her eye spoiled the look.

Dr Hopper was moderating the debate, and Lacey quickly checked her recording equipment and opened her laptop, rattling off a few sentences about the tense atmosphere of the hall and the opening statements from each of the candidates. Zelena gave a speech about decency and traditional values, at which Regina seemed to be stopping herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Regina spoke of her record on town planning, law and order—she shot Zelena a look at that point—and prosperity.

“Thank you, ladies,” said Dr Hopper, when she was done. “Now, perhaps we’ll go to some questions from the press before we deal with those the townsfolk have submitted.”

“I have a question for Miss West,” said Lacey, in a loud, clear voice, shoving her laptop at Gold as she got to her feet.

Zelena’s mouth twisted, her smile more of a grimace.

“Of course,” she said lightly. “It’s - uh - I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

She waved a languid hand, and Lacey felt her mouth flatten.

“Lacey French, Storybrooke Mirror,” she said evenly, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh.

“Of course, silly me,” she trilled. “How could I forget Storybrooke’s eager young reporter? Lending the local newspaper such an air of class in that - lovely - outfit.”

There was a muttering amongst the townsfolk, and Lacey distinctly heard Ruby say ‘What a bitch!’, but she smiled sweetly as though she hadn’t understood the insult.

“Yeah, I have a question about your motivation for running for Mayor,” she said. “You said yourself you’ve never been involved in politics, so what inspired you to make this move now?”

Zelena smiled widely.

“Well, as I said, I thought about where I could do the most good,” she said. “Storybrooke is a wonderful town, with many excellent qualities, but talking to its residents has made me realise that there’s a feeling that it may be lacking direction. I sense a need for a return to the basics of community. Neighbourliness. Family values. The traditions of small-town America that we all grew up with.”

“But you grew up in England,” said Lacey. “Wasn’t your father a diplomat? How do you know this view of America is either accurate or desirable?”

Zelena’s nostrils flared as she continued to smile brightly.

“Well,” she said. “Who’s been doing her homework?”

“Yeah, it’s just that people hear politicians mention tradition and family values, and all too often it’s a smoke-screen to hide racism and homophobia,” went on Lacey. “How would you address those concerns?”

Zelena spread her hands.

“I’d say look at my record,” she said. “Since I moved here I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to work with people of all backgrounds. It’s important that no one feels left out, and my initial conversations have led me to believe that there are concerns, and that some residents feel that their interests are not - fully appreciated - by the Mayor.”

“What kind of interests?” asked Lacey quickly, before Zelena could turn away, and her mouth twisted again as she tried to keep smiling.

“As I said, some feel that traditional family values are being lost in the push for modernity,” she said. “I’d like to reassure them that I stand for everything that Storybrooke represents. Decency. Morality.”

“Does that mean you think the Mayor is immoral?” asked Lacey, and Zelena pulled a face.

“I think there have been some questionable decisions at city hall under her watch, yes,” she said. “Does anyone really think that a seedy bar called Queens of Darkness is fitting for this town?”

“It’s a jazz club,” said Regina. “And there’ll be dance lessons each week. A perfectly respectable establishment, run by three accomplished businesswomen.”

Zelena let out that insincere laugh again, and Lacey sat down, retrieving her laptop from Gold and opening it up as Zelena addressed the room.

“Well, it’s not only the company the Mayor keeps,” she said. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Missing money, accounts not holding quite as much as people thought…”

“That’s an outrageous lie,” said Regina coldly. “Where’s your evidence, Miss West?”

Zelena smirked, as though she had been waiting for that very question. She held up the green folder, showing it to the room.

“I have the evidence right here,” she announced. “A brave employee of city hall managed to smuggle this out to me. Evidence that the Mayor has been embezzling town funds!”

There was a shocked intake of breath around the room. Lacey typed furiously.

“How dare you!” snapped Regina. “That’s a lie and you know it!”

“I believe this is my allotted time to speak!” Zelena snapped back. “I think the people of Storybrooke deserve to know exactly who you really are, don’t you? They should understand the choice before them!”

The doors at the end of the hall opened, and there was the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Zelena looked surprised, and then somewhat nervous, and a low-level muttering started up in the audience. Lacey glanced over her shoulder, watching as Sheriff Graham Humbert walked towards the stage with his deputy Dorothy Gale by his side. Regina appeared to be drumming her fingers on the lectern, and Lacey couldn’t work out whether it was anxiety or impatience.

“Miss West,” said Graham. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”

“Why?” demanded Zelena. “I’m a little busy winning this election, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s a matter of obstruction of justice,” said Graham. “If you could come to the station, please.”

Zelena opened and closed her mouth, a sudden flicker of fear in her eyes.

“What if I say no?”

“I’d prefer not to have to handcuff you,” said Graham.

“But we will if we have to,” added Dorothy, folding her arms.

“This is a conspiracy!” blurted Zelena, waving a finger at Regina. “Did the Mayor put you up to this? This is exactly the kind of corruption I’m talking about! The Sheriff being used as the Mayor’s enforcer!”

“Miss West…”

“Mayor Mills will do whatever it takes to silence me!” she went on. “She’s scared I’ve exposed her for what she is!”

“Miss West, I didn’t want to have to arrest you, but…”

“One hint of competition and she calls in her - her goon squad to crush it!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I know you’re my sister!” said Regina loudly.

Silence fell, and Lacey hurriedly typed a few sentences, describing the shocked atmosphere of the town hall. Zelena was staring at Regina, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” said Regina, curling her lip. “I wanted to give you a chance to be a decent person and deal with this in an honourable way. But since you’re determined to try to ruin my life for no good reason, then yes. I’m well aware we share the same mother, and frankly she’d be disappointed at this pathetic bid for attention.”

“How dare you—”

“I believe it’s my turn to speak,” interrupted Regina. “We’ve listened to enough of your rambling this evening. Since you’d been dropping hints about corruption in my office, I had Sheriff Humbert investigate. He told me earlier this evening that someone had been planting evidence to try to frame me. No doubt that’s what he wants to speak to you about.”

“This is—”

“The residents of Storybrooke know how seriously I take my duties as Mayor,” Regina went on, addressing the room as a whole now. “They know that I value their support and their trust. Of course I’d want any threat to that to be investigated. I’m just - I’m beyond disappointed that the threat comes from my half-sister.”

Her voice echoed around the silent room. Lacey was watching the townsfolk avidly, their eyes fixed on Regina as she spoke.

“I had no idea that my mother had had a daughter before me, no idea that I had another family member out there in the world,” she went on. “Her coming to Storybrooke should have been a time of joy and reunion. But instead of her reaching out to me, she tries to undermine me, to take away the most important job I have in this town.”

She looked down, shaking her head, and Gold leaned in close.

“I wonder how much of this is for the benefit of the voters and how much is genuine,” he murmured.

“Maybe fifty-fifty,” Lacey whispered back, and he nodded in agreement.

Regina raised her head, taking a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. Graham and Dorothy had edged towards the stage, Dorothy removing the cuffs from her belt.

“All I can do now,” said Regina, “is trust that justice will take its course.”

“You know nothing about justice!” shouted Zelena, as the Sheriff started reading her her rights. “You’ll pay for this! All of you!”

She was still yelling when Dorothy handcuffed her and marched her from the room. The sound of the doors closing was very loud in the silence that remained.

“Well,” said Regina, placing her hands on the lectern and looking around the room. “I think we can all agree that this was one of the more - eventful - political debates this town has seen.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter, and she smiled.

“I truly hope that Miss West gets the help she so desperately needs,” she went on. “And when she has, I want her to know that she’s welcome to visit with Mallory and I. After all, we may not be able to choose our family, but that makes it all the more important to nurture the bonds we share with those around us.”

There were noises of agreement from the audience, and Gold leaned in close again.

“Ever the politician,” he murmured, and Lacey nodded.

“Storybrooke is like an extended family to me,” went on Regina, “and all families have their moments of conflict and frustration, but underneath that there is respect for one another, and a common set of values. I believe I have lived by those values for every year that I’ve served as your Mayor. I will always reach out to those in need and I will always act in the best interests of this town. Under my leadership, Storybrooke will continue to prosper. I guarantee it.”

There was applause, and a couple of cheers, and Regina nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. She started taking questions, and Gold kissed Lacey’s cheek and whispered that he would see her in the diner when she was done. She watched him leave with his family, Emma balancing the baby on her hip and Neal pushing the stroller after them. Lacey turned back to listen to Regina field a question about the state of the town’s roads, bent her head to her laptop, and began typing up her article on the Mayoral debate.

She emailed the article over to Sidney before leaving for the diner, and walked back there with Ruby, who was chattering about the drama that had unfolded. Regina had been in her element when answering the remaining questions, and Lacey had felt a surge of satisfaction over her part in exposing a crime. Perhaps small town life offered the chance for rewarding work after all. She could see Gold and his family through the window, and his face lit up as she entered, making her stomach flip. Damn the man. I’m falling in love with him.

“Excellent job this evening,” he said, getting up to pull her chair out and kissing her cheek. “I got you a rum and coke, I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” she said fervently, and took a slurp, relishing the taste on her tongue.

“How’d the Mayor look at the end of all that?” asked Emma, and Lacey pulled a face.

“The whole place gave her a round of applause, and she was looking about as satisfied as she could, I guess,” she said. “I still feel kind of sorry for her. Not every day you find out you have a half sister. Especially one that’s out to get you.”

“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” said Gold. “I very much doubt Miss West will present much of a challenge from a jail cell.”

Lacey nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

“Does this mean you and Regina are friends now?” she asked, and Gold smirked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “What’s that term the kids use these days?”

“Frenemies?”

“That’s the one.”

“Kind of like we were,” she observed, and he laughed.

“Regina would fillet me with a letter opener if I even contemplated looking at her the way I look at you.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I just meant - well, we kind of had that thing where we poked at each other to get a reaction, right?”

Gold looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, and she swatted his arm.

“Stop thinking about dirty stuff! You know what I mean!”

“I do,” he acknowledged. “And I, for one, am very glad that we - er - got the reaction we wanted.”

“You’re still thinking about dirty stuff, aren’t you?” said Emma shrewdly, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe a little.”

They ate ribs, sticky with Granny’s special sauce, licking it from their fingers and washing it down with beer and wine and rum. By the time they got out into the cool night air, Lacey felt wonderfully tipsy, and regretted putting on her high heels earlier in the evening. At least there was no one else around to see if she fell on her arse, she supposed. Neal and Emma were walking ahead, pushing the stroller and talking quietly, and Lacey let out a sigh, slipping her arm through Gold’s for support, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I ate too much,” she said, and Gold chuckled.

“We all ate too much.”

“You didn’t throw half of it over your lap, though.”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”

“Stupid gravity,” muttered Lacey, and he laughed, squeezing her arm with his.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah. Long day.”

“Maybe you should have an early night.”

She glanced up at him, and he was grinning at her, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s that gonna work?” she asked flatly. “Your family’s staying over. No way I’m letting you give me screaming orgasms while they’re in the room next door.”

“In that case I could sneak over to yours,” he suggested. “You could scream to your heart’s content.”

Lacey giggled, barging him affectionately with her shoulder.

“I think I love you, Mr Gold,” she said, and Gold stopped dead, turning to face her with a stunned look on his face.

“Really?”

Lacey turned to face him, taking his hand.

“Really,” she said. “I mean I’m kind of drunk, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I think I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while now. Is that okay?”

He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and a softness seemed to spill over his features, making his eyes gleam as he smiled.

“Well,” he said. “I think I love you, too, Miss French. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then raised his chin.

“D’you want to move in?” he asked.

“Can I bring Darcy?”

“Of course.”

“Then you got a deal.”

He was grinning, and she found herself grinning back, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Let’s wait until after Neal and Emma go before I move in, though,” she said. “I think you said something about screaming orgasms?”

Gold’s grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to kiss her.

“I’ll be over later.”

She let his lips pull at hers, leaning in to feel the warmth of his body as his arms went around her, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes. Life in a small town could be amazing.

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #golden lace #rumbelle #my fic

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prophetparadox · 3 years ago

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DMC OC Week Day 1: Introduction

(I made this image in a picrew, so it’s not totally accurate to her design but it’s the best I could do with limited options)

It’s officially midnight so fuck it, time to make my first post for this prompt week! I may have just gotten into this series, but I do have an OC and since I plan on writing a fic soon I figured participating in @dmc-oc-week was a good way to start! So it’s time to meet my girl Kay! So I’ve filled out an infographic for her, and wrote up a little drabble to go along with this, get ready to learn more about her as the week goes on! Though if you read my stuff on AO3, you’ve probably already seen her a little bit, but let’s get this ball rolling!

Name: Kay [Real Name REDACTED]

Age: Mid-20’s (24-26) (as of DMC5)

DoB: September 26th

Race/Species: Human, mostly...

Height: 5’6”/167 cm

Weight: 117 lbs.

Appearance: Kay has medium length brown hair that goes just above her chest, her left eye is brown but no one knows what her right eye looks like as it’s covered by a dark purple eyepatch and hidden further by her hair covering her right eye. She wears a purple sleeveless top, black capris, a gray hoodie that is usually tied around her waist, light gray boots, and fingerless fishnet gloves.

Personality: Kay is a cheerful albeit socially awkward girl, but she has a stubborn side and isn’t afraid to say what’s on her mind. Emotion wise, she wears her heart on her sleeve and isn’t good at hiding how she feels unless she bottles it up. She tends to be optimistic, but there might be something darker lying deeper... She’s very affectionate towards the people she cares about. That being said, Kay is also rather secretive. She doesn’t open up about her past, being vague and only bringing up as little as possible. It’d take a lot of trust for her to open up about such things. Due to being around Dante for so long, she’s developed a bit of a sarcastic attitude.

Quick Facts/Abilities: Kay primarily wields her axe Fenrir, a Devil Arm, in battle, but she does have firearms training courtesy of Lady and carries around a pistol. Despite her right eye being covered up and hidden, she doesn’t seem to be handicapped by this and behaves as if it weren’t hidden at all. She has a good sense of intuition, being able to know if someone is trustworthy or has demonic power.

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

It was always strange when the office was quiet. If it wasn’t a song blasting from the jukebox filling the space with noise, it was the chattering of its employees. Even more rare was when the quiet wasn’t because the power had been shut off. But today seemed to be a rare moment where the power was on but not a sound could be heard. But in all honesty, that didn’t really bother the sole occupant of the office at the moment.

Sitting down on the couch with a book in hand was a young woman known simply as Kay. Without any “work” to do, she had time to finish yet another book she’d had on her long pile of things to read. And with the others still asleep, she could enjoy the peace of the lazy April morning. Though admittedly, she was having trouble focusing on the words. Perhaps it was too quiet? Or maybe it was because she hadn’t eaten breakfast yet? She wasn’t sure. All she knew is that the peace and quiet had quickly lost its appeal. Maybe Dante would wake up soon and then they could-

The phone on Dante’s desk began to ring, sounding louder than usual thanks to the deafening quiet. The sudden noise made her nearly fall off the couch. Quickly stuffing her bookmark into the novel, she leapt up from her seat and dashed for the phone. No one else was around to answer, and it might just be a job! She had to take this chance. She picked up the phone, holding on to the possibility that this would be big.

“Devil May Cry!” she answered, as she had many times before. She listened intently to the person on the other end, unable to hide the grin on her face when they gave the password. “Alright, I think we can help you. What’s the issue?” she asked, grabbing a pen and piece of scrap paper so she could write down the details. This was perfect! She could take this job and-

“I’ll be taking that, thank you!” The voice behind her and the sudden stealing of the phone from her hands snapped her out of her good mood. She didn’t even have to guess who it was, she knew that voice all too well.

“Dante, what the hell?!” Kay shouted, turning to face her “boss”. From the looks of it, he’d just tumbled out of bed and was woken up by the phone ringing. He didn’t bother answering her, simply giving a cocky grin in response.

“Sorry about that, mind repeating what you said there?” he said, responding to the client on the phone. Dammit, he was gonna steal the job for himself! She seethed in silence as Dante attentively listened to the client. “Alright then, I’ll be there asap, we’ll discuss payment afterwards,” He put the phone back on the receiver and grabbed Rebellion. “Duty calls, Kay! You know the drill, hold down the fort while I’m gone!”

“Of course you won’t let me come with,” Kay sighed, sitting down in the chair already aware this would be a losing argument. But it was still worth a try, maybe he’d come around for once? “I don’t see why, this assignment isn’t that tricky.”

“Which is why you’re staying here. Besides, someone needs to hold off Lady and Trish if they come knocking! And if there’s anyone I trust the office with, it’s you.”

She knew that was meant to be a compliment, but she’d heard it too many times and was getting tired of it. “Come on, Dante, I’m not a kid! I can handle myself out there, you’ve seen it with your own eyes!” she argued.

“Sorry Kay, but my mind’s made up. This is a one man job, you wouldn’t be able to do much if you came. They’d all be dead before you could swing your axe,” He leaned down to tousle her hair, earning him a groan of annoyance from her. “I’m sorry, but I have my reasons. You’ll understand one of these days. Just trust me, would ya?”

There it was, the excuse he always pulled. He always had his reasons that he never explained and one day she’d totally understand it all. That was usually a sign the conversation was over. “Just go already.” she said with the wave of her hand at the door.

“I’ll make it up to you, kiddo. I’ll treat you to something when I get back!” he said as he walked towards the door, trying to make her feel better. It was hard when by treating her he meant they’d get pizza from a fancier joint than usual and she’d be the one stuck picking it up.

“I’m still not your kid, Dante! I’m a grown woman!” she called out as he made his way out the door. Once again, she was left alone in the office.

Kay stood up and made her way over to the kitchen, unable to ignore her hunger and resigned to eating alone. She was so tired of being left behind with no explanation. She’d been fighting demons long before she met Dante, but he just seemed content to make her watch the office and pick up pizzas or coffee. She was getting tired of this, she wanted to see some action again! Go out in the field and kick demon ass! But noooooo, she was stuck here.

Maybe one day she’d be able to head out there again, prove to Dante that she was just as capable as him or the girls, take down demons like she used to. But clearly that wasn’t today. But soon, something had to happen soon. They’d get a job so big that he couldn’t leave her behind and then he’d see! Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.

But for some reason, she felt as if that hope would become reality soon enough. She could just be getting her hopes up, but she wanted to believe her intuition was right. If only she could see the future and know for certain… Until then, she’d just stay here and hope that someone would walk through the door or dial their number and change everything.

#Prophet posts #Devil May Cry #dmcocweek

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viastro · 5 years ago

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the time for us | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and soonyoung broke up six months ago and you run into each other at the club. [requested by @shoshishua]

ミ★ genre: primarily angst, fluff at the end

ミ★ warnings: very very brief mention of blood

ミ★ word count: 2,452

ミ★ pairings: hoshi x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! another oneshot hehe. my baby requested this one! we basically had this whole deal where we choose two sentences and a person for the other to write about. the two sentences i got were, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” as well as, “what happens if I do this?” so i hope you guys like this one!

There’s only been one guy in your life who you’ve loved. You may have been young, sixteen at the time, but it felt like you and Soonyoung could take over the world. You were both hardworking, always sneaking around the dance studio at late hours to practice. As well as being ambitious, proven by the fact that whenever the opportunity for a solo arose you and Soonyoung would compete against each other for it.

It was when you both graduated high school that things started to fall apart. You were naive, thinking that since you two were together for three years you guys were practically married. Your relationship only took the turn for the worst once you and Soonyoung realized you both had incredibly different career paths. You wanted to become a nurse while he wanted to pursue dancing. You both completely supported each other, Soonyoung being ecstatic when your application for residency was approved, and you being excited when Soonyoung got into the talent agency.

However, your schedules no longer lined up as you both became busier by the minute. Your late night calls became the new system for your guys communication, but that began to dwindle as well. Suddenly the excuse, “I’m tired, I had a long day.” began to be thrown around endlessly. Which may have been true, but it led the feelings of bitterness and anger to start to rise between you two due to the lack of communication. Or should you say, the lack of effort that was being put into the relationship.

The breakup was the worst thing either of you had to go through in your twenty years of living. That may sound like it’s an exaggeration, but it’s not. It ended with tears, a slam of a door, and Soonyoung throwing a plate across the room. Your relationship wasn’t the only thing that shattered that night, for the plate broke into what looked like thousands of pieces. It was a pain in the ass for Soonyoung to clean, so he didn’t. He left the shards of glass there for months, as some kind of way to punish himself for the things he said that night, for letting you go.

He only cleaned it on the fourth month after the breakup because Chan came over and scolded him, telling him how dangerous it is. Chan basically held an intervention on Soonyoung’s behavior, and took him out to the club to try and get him to feel something again.

Little did Chan know that it would simply make things worse.

Soonyoung started going to clubs almost every weekend to just bring home different girls in an attempt to get over you. It really doesn’t work though because the whole time he’s kissing a random girl his mind is just running off of you, you, you.

He imagines that it’s you he’s kissing, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one laying with him after everything is said and done. He’s been doing this routine for six months now, and no one can stop him.

Honestly, you aren’t doing that much better either! You’re both god damn messes after the break up. You refused to leave your room the whole weekend after things ended horribly between you and Soonyoung. You’d only get up to go to work, then come back to your apartment and wallow in your own self pity.

You only started going out a few months after the breakup because Seungkwan thought you needed to find somebody new. He had the same thinking as Chan when it came to this, and that’s why you’re here in this position now.

Dressed in a silk lavender dress and a pair of flats because god knows you can’t wear heels. You haven’t looked this put together in months, but you’re slowly falling apart on the inside once you take notice of who’s sitting at the bar talking to a really pretty girl.

Yes, you guessed it, it’s Kwon Soonyoung. The guy who broke your heart six months ago, as well as you breaking his. You feel your heart pound against your chest as you look at him from the booth you and Seungkwan are seated at. His hair is no longer red like you remember, now dyed a dark black that emphasizes the sharpness of his jawline. He’s wearing a see-through shirt with a black fitted blazer over it, along with tight black jeans.

“He looks great.” You mumble to yourself as you take a small gulp of the soju Seungkwan ordered for you. Soonyoung smiles at the girl when she rests her hand softly on his shoulder, and you find a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You know yn, the whole reason we came here was for you to get over [redacted], not eye fuck him.” You turn your head to glare at your friend, who’s giving you a knowing smile.

“You knew he was gonna be here?” You ask and Seungkwan shrugs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Yeah.”

“And you thought bringing me here was a good idea… why?”

“I live off of chaos.” You roll your eyes at his answer, turning away to look around the club. The dj is playing an Usher song, which is giving you major nostalgia. Specifically, it brings back the memory of you and Soonyoung fighting for who gets center when you were seventeen. Letting out a small sigh at the thought, your eyes find their way back to your ex-boyfriend, and your heart practically leaps out of your chest once your eyes connect with his.

Soonyoung is no longer paying any interest to the girl in front of him once his eyes land on you. His heart pounds violently against his chest once he realizes it’s been six months since he last saw you. He watches as you look around the room for a moment, only to lock your eyes with his. Your eyes immediately widen for a second, only to go back to normal.

she’s so cute, Soonyoung thinks to himself. He raises an eyebrow at you once he realizes this has now turned into a mini staring contest. You finally blink, choosing to look back at Seungkwan once you feel your hands begin to shake underneath the table. Soonyoung smirks, already feeling pretty buzzed from the bottle of soju he finished.

“Um, Hoshi, hello?” Soonyoung turns back to the girl he was speaking to, only to give her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m interested tonight. You’ll find someone better, don’t worry.” Soonyoung tells her sweetly, and she gives him a sad smile. She nods her head before getting up off the chair and heading towards the dance floor.

Soonyoung turns his head to look back at you only to realize you’re not sitting at the booth anymore. His eyes widen in panic for a moment turning around in his seat to look for you. You let out a small smile as you sit down in the seat the girl was sitting in a moment ago, waiting for Soonyoung to notice you.

“Where’d she- AH!” You let out a small giggle at his reaction once he finally turns back and notices you sitting beside him. Soonyoung lets out an embarrassed cough, trying to play it cool.

“It’s been a while.” He mutters, and you glance at him through the corner of your eye, taking notice of the pink tinge on his cheeks. From being tipsy or being embarrassed? Probably both. You take another sip from your soju before answering, “Yeah. It has.”

“Why did you come here? I thought clubbing wasn’t your thing.” Soonyoung asks you, and you shrug.

“When we were dating it wasn’t, but I’m single now. Decided to try something new.” You respond, and Soonyoung feels a punch to his gut. You almost slap yourself in the face at the stupid, petty comment, but you keep your demeanor cool. Soonyoung downs another shot before standing up from the bar, feeling old anger resurface.

“I’m going to dance, it was nice seeing you.” His tone is as cold as ice, making a shiver run down your spine. You finally turn your head to look at him, and you both feel your breaths get taken away at the close proximity between you two. Soonyoung’s eyes travel from your eyes to your plush lips, and you feel your heart beat wildly in your chest. Soonyoung feels tears prick at the back of his eyes once your scent registers in his mind, triggering the feeling of home. A feeling that’s been lost for months.

“It was nice seeing you too.” You whisper softly, eyes glancing down to his lips, causing Soonyoung to clench his jaw. Before he does anything he’ll regret, he turns around and walks off into the crowded dance floor. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, turning in your seat to watch him.

Soonyoung feels your eyes on him as he begins dancing with a random girl, and it reignites the pain he thought was numbed away. You watch as the girl starts grinding back onto Soonyoung, and you feel your heart shatter once again. You weren’t ready to get over him, god you aren’t even over him. Watching the way Soonyoung starts to nibble on her neck is the last straw for you. You take one last sip of your soju before walking back to the booth you shared with Seungkwan.

“I want to go home.” You demand and Seungkwan nods his head, not needing to ask why. The heartbroken expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

“Yeah, I’ll take you home yn.”

You fail to notice Soonyoung watching you leave.

“I can’t believe I’m still not over him.” You mutter to yourself as you pace around your apartment, barefoot but still in your dress. It’s been an hour since you left the bar and Seungkwan dropped you off at home, and you spent thirty minutes of that just sitting in the middle of your kitchen eating a slice of bread.

“I know our breakup was so fucking stupid and I shouldn’t have left, but that was the past. How am I still hung up over the past when it’s been six fucking months.” You feel a sob begin to bubble in your chest as the fond memories flood your brain.

You hear a knock on your door, causing you to pause your pacing in the living room. You carefully step over, looking through the peephole once you make it to the door. Your breath hitches in your throat once you see who’s on the other side, and you quickly make it to open the door.

“Soonyoung.” You breathe out. He’s standing there in all his glory, looking a bit less put together than he was at the bar. You feel your blood run cold once you notice a red lipstick mark on his neck.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, feeling vulnerable at the way his eyes rake your figure.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you nod your head, moving to the side so that he can step in. He slips off his shoes, and follows you to the kitchen. You open up your fridge, checking inside to see what refreshments you can possibly offer him.

“Do you want a drink? Food? I only have leftovers from this one thai restaurant-”

“I still love you.” You stop mid-reach into grabbing the can of coke, knowing it was his favorite while you two were dating. You close your fridge, and slowly turn around to face him. He has tears pricking at the back of his eyes, and you feel your heart stop when he takes a small step forward.

“Y-you, you what?”

“Our fight was stupid, and it was my fault. I wasn’t trying hard enough which is so horrible because you are quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wish I stopped you from leaving that night because you never came back.” Soonyoung says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“You’re drunk Soonie.”

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” He takes another step forward, and you look up at him, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’ve regretted letting you go every single day these past six months. I’ve become someone so ugly on the inside. I feel like I’m not living and I’m doing stupid shit just to feel something again.” You bite the inside of your cheek even harder to the point that you taste the copperness of blood.

“I- I go to bars every weekend, I drink until I can’t remember, and I find a new girl to bring home just to make sure you’re not on my mind.” Soonyoung confesses and you look away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, only for more tears to take its place. He takes another step forward so that your faces are mere inches apart. He presses a finger underneath your chin, making you look back up into his eyes.

“But it never works.”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you, yn.” A tear falls from his eye, and you reach up to cup his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He lets out a small smile, leaning in a bit to test the waters.

“What happens if I do this?” He asks, his lips almost brushing against yours as he speaks.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, your hand dropping to clutch his shirt. Soonyoung reaches up and softly rests a hand on your cheek.

“I’m going to kiss you now, tell me if you want me to stop.” He mumbles, staring into your eyes. Another tear slips past as you nod your head, a small, sad smile gracing your features.

“Please.”

It’s all Soonyoung needs to hear before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. His lips are slightly chapped, and it tastes salty due to the tears you both shed while also tasting like soju. However, it’s nothing short of perfect. Your hand moves from clutching his shirt to resting on the side of his neck as his arms reach around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you tighter.

“Is this real? You love me?” Soonyoung asks against your lips, pulling you in again to taste your sweet lips that he’s been missing for months. A small smile escapes you, mumbling between kisses, “Yes, it’s real. I love you so much.”

After six months of Soonyoung kissing random people imagining that it’s you, for the first time it’s finally you.

it’s finally you.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

She [2]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series)

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: Steve deals with the aftermath of his recent notoriety.

Note: Alright, so I know this starts slow but I promise it is a steady creep towards the finish line.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Steve

It was a morning like any other. Steve woke up, pulled on his track pants and a light blue tee, and took his time tying his old sneakers. He stretched as he neared the door and hopped down the front steps of his walk-up. It was early and as quiet as New York got.

He set off on his usual route. It was his only chance to just lose himself. He could just run and not think about everything that awaited him. He was due at the compound that day; another briefing. That one thought tugged at his mind. Was it time?

When he returned to his townhouse, he jogged up his steps and let himself inside. He had some water and made his usual breakfast. Two eggs and four strips of bacon with rye toast. He sat and ate alone. The place felt empty.

It had taken him over two years to renovate the place and he missed the flurry of activity. He hadn’t felt so lonely then, even when half the world had disappeared. Now it was just him. He felt less and less himself every day. Bitter, resentful, tired.

He rinsed his dishes as he stared at the deep red tiles above the sink. He sighed. He’d tried dating. He was about as great at it was he had been when he weighed as much as his left leg. He dried the plate and placed it among the stack. He didn’t know why he had so many; it was only ever him. The glass went with the rest and the utensils clattered loudly into the drawer.

A buzz sounded. The noise was quiet but nagging. He often ignored it. He left his phone by the door when he got home to charge and only took it when he went to work. It continued to vibrate. It was ringing. He unhooked the cord and answered as Fury’s name flashed up at him.

“Rogers,” He answered as he headed upstairs. “I’m on my way. I’m not due for another--”

“You’re due when I say you’re due,” Fury snapped. “Which is now.”

“Alright, just let me get dressed,” Steve huffed as he sat on his bed and kicked off his shoes.

“Maybe start answering your phone,” Fury snarled.

“It was charging.” Steve argued.

The line went dead. He tossed the phone on the mattress and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. For all he did, it was never a please or thank you, it was only more, more, more.

He stood and pushed his hair back. He’d take his time just to spite Fury. The biggest act of defiance he could muster. He went into the bathroom and cranked on the shower. He closed the glass door and let it steam up before he stripped. He glanced in the mirror.

He wondered what life would have been if he had stayed the skinny boy who punched up. He was certain even that would be a happier existence than this. He had sold his soul for what? It didn’t have to be him, it could have been anyone. Why had he always insisted on being the big guy? The hero?

He pulled open the shower and stepped inside. The cloud of steam settled over him and he closed his eyes. No, it did have to be him because there was no one like Steve Rogers.

🖋️

Steve walked into the compound. He was agitated. He had been accosted coming out of his house by some photographer and had resisted the urge to swat him away like a fly as he unlocked his car. The compound was worse. A dozen people with cameras awaited him as he pulled up to the parking lot gate and waited for the booth operator to let him in.

He took the stairs. Fury greeted him with crossed arms and his usual one-eyed sneer. This couldn’t be good. He held a magazine and turned it to reveal the cover. Steve squinted and shrugged as he stopped before the irritable man.

“Look closer,” Fury shoved the magazine towards him.

In the corner, Steve recognized himself. An edited photo which showed half of his face with his cowl on and the other without. A small tagline stood out below: ‘The Man Without A Plan: Steve Rogers’ Struggle for Stability’. He grabbed the issue and looked closer at the glossy cover in shock.

“Shit,” He swore.

“Shit?” Fury repeated. “So I guess I don’t have to remind you of what you said to that reporter.”

“Why are you mad at me? You approved the interview.” Steve flipped through the pages to the exclusive.

“But I didn’t give the interview. If I had, it wouldn’t have made the front cover,” Fury hissed.

“No, it would all be redacted,” Steve started to read through. “I didn’t--”

“You didn’t say any of that?” Fury challenged.

“No…” Steve looked up. “I did but I…”

“You let a journalist get the best of you.” Fury shook his head. “And now your plastered all over the city.”

“It’s one magazine,” Steve said.

“You need to start using that goddamn phone of yours.” Fury reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He quickly typed and turned it to Steve. “Search yourself once in a while. I know it’s tacky but shit.”

Steve read over the top news articles; ‘Steve Rogers lashes out at journalist in report’ and ‘Rogers’ Dilemma: Hero condemns ungrateful civilians’. He pulled back and looked at the magazine again. The stabbing in his heart turned to fire.

“That little--” He clamped his lips together to keep from swearing.

“Come on,” Fury glanced around. “Let’s talk somewhere else. This much attention on you, we can’t be too careful.”

He followed Fury through the halls and past several training rooms. He thought of the reporter and her pensive eyes. The way she’d watched him so closely as she scribbled on her notepad. She’d seemed harmless until she started asking questions.

After he calmed down, he’d nearly forgotten about the whole debacle. He assumed it would be buried like most of his interviews. One day of press and then done.

Fury led him into the plain office which looked like it was never used. It was as clean and clinical as an operating room. Fury leaned on the desk as Steve pored over the last lines of the article and paced.

“There’s not gonna be a briefing this morning,” Fury said. “Not for you.”

“What--?”

“It’s best we keep this quiet but… Rogers, you need a break. Take it.” Fury pushed back his long leather duster as he gripped his hips. “Maybe get away from the city until this all dies down.”

“Get away? This is my city,” Steve hissed. “I won’t be run out by some… some…”

Bitch! He wanted to say but he held it in. Even in front of this man, he had to put on a mask. He could never just say what he was thinking. What he was feeling. He bent the magazine and hit it with his palm.

“It’s just an article. Christ. I think my job is a little bigger than some gossip rag.” Steve huffed.

“I’d agree but it’s not just my call and it’s not just about you. We have a team, a younger team now. They can’t be distracted by all this.” Fury said.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“Two weeks.” Fury replied. “For now.”

“For now?” Steve repeated.

“It should all die down before then but if it doesn’t…”

“This is bullshit.” Steve barked. “What did I say that was so wrong?”

“The concern is your temper and as ridiculous as I thought that was, I’m starting to see the sense in it.” Fury sneered. “You need to calm down, Captain.”

“I don’t have a temper problem.” Steve snarled.

“Why don’t you read that again? You were hostile and some would think intentionally trying to intimidate that reporter. A female.” Fury said pointedly. “Who, by the looks of her, isn’t much of a match for a super soldier.”

“I was across the room from her,” Steve argued. “I didn’t even raise my voice.”

“People won’t know that. They know that you got aggressive, quickly it seems, and then shut down the interview abruptly.” Fury took a breath. “You’re only lucky she stopped where she did.”

Steve glared at Fury. He gritted his teeth as he gripped the magazine tighter.

“Fine,” He uttered. “Two weeks.”

🖋️

Steve didn’t realize he still had the magazine in his hand until he got in his car. He sat, staring blindly out the windshield, then slowly looked down. It was bent in his grip and as he let it fall onto the passenger seat, it remained warped. He shoved his key in the slot and turned the engine.

Still, he didn’t budge. He grasped the steering wheel and a rumble began deep in his chest. A carnal growl. He invited her into his home and she ruined his reputation in return.

Perhaps he was still the naive little Brooklyn boy. He thought she was so sweet over the phone. She was just as self-serving and apathetic as everyone else in this world. The very same he had saved, time and time again.

He pulled out sharply and flashed his pass to the booth. There were still photographers out on the sidewalk; waiting for him. He drove without thinking. He had never felt so angry. He had never let himself be this angry. Always holding it in for the sake of others. Always compromising his feelings because it was ‘right’.

He stopped parallel to the curb. His vision cleared and he peered up at the tall building. He shouldn’t have come here but he was there and he couldn’t stop himself. He turned off his car and waited.

He muted his phone as it kept buzzing; Bucky, Sam, all his team members. Asking where he was or maybe about his new found infamy. Well, he wasn’t their leader anymore. Not for the next two weeks so they could take care of themselves as he found something else to do. Something for himself, for once in his life.

He didn’t know how long he waited. Probably too long. An hour or two. Then he saw her. She appeared through the front doors of the building, her attention on the open purse in her hand. She dropped it as a camera flashed and Steve leaned his seat back as he watched her scramble for the overturned contents.

She didn’t look malicious. At a glance, she was just another girl. She picked up her purse and resumed her route past the photographer. He watched her through the rear view as she disappeared into a sandwich shop just a few buildings down.

He readjusted his seat and hovered his hand over the ignition. He paused and closed his eyes. What was he doing? Let it go. It would all just go away.

He started the car and pulled out into traffic. He was edgy and found himself leaning a bit too hard on the gas. He stopped short as he almost hit another car. He punched the dash and swore. She could play innocent but she wouldn’t get away with it. Not if he had anything to say about it.

🖋️

Steve went home but not for long. Another photographer outside his house as if he would give them a show on his front stoop. He went inside and paced his front room then went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge. He wasn’t hungry. He went upstairs and changed. Black pants, grey hoodie, a dark blue ball cap to cover his blonde hair. He fished out his only pair of sunglasses and found his way back to the first floor.

He peeked through the window. The photographer was still there. He went to the back and glanced out into the small fenced yard. Nothing but the patio set he had yet to use and overgrown grass. He went back and grabbed his keys and wallet. He sneaked out through the back gate, careful that no one saw him slip down the next street.

He walked to the subway and strode down into the station. He checked the time as he climbed on the train. He sat by the door and his leg jiggled impatiently. He stopped it with his hand and looked around. No one else seemed to notice his anxiety or him. It had been a long time since he felt invisible.

He got off and slipped past the crowds. He walked the same street he had lingered on hours before. He kept to the other side of the street as he checked the time again. Would she already be gone? He kept to the mouth of the alley and watched the photographers as they waited by the front doors.

When she came out, it was the same as before. She scurried away from her own ilk as they attempted to talk to her and catch her in their lens. They left her at the subway entrance; their cameras too expensive to chance in the underground. Besides it would be difficult enough to get a shot in a car full of people.

He crossed the street and quickly descended the grimy steps behind her. He caught sight of her just before she disappeared onto her platform. He kept his distance, far enough that he’d get on the next car. The train pulled up and he watched her step inside before he mirrored her.

When the train shifted, he waited a minute before he slipped through the doors to the next car. He sat at the end as she huddled in a seat on the other side. She kept her head down, her eyes on her phone. The old New York solitary. She looked entirely vulnerable and it made something inside of him flinch. A subtle snap as he couldn’t look away even as she did nothing at all.

She was nothing compared to him. He could break her as easily as he did criminals and villains. Probably easier. He gulped as he pushed his shoulders back and tried to resist the thoughts. No. He wasn’t that. He didn’t do that.

But what was he doing? Following her; watching her. He hadn’t thought about that. He’d just done it. What would he do from here? Follow her home and what? He could try talking to her but for what? The damage was done; she couldn’t undo what she’d done. And she likely wouldn’t want to.

She had used him to climb her way up the ladder. Now her name was featured alongside his and the world was at her feet. She was the innocent and he was her antagonist. Well, if that’s what she wanted.

As the train stopped, she stood and he did too. Almost too quickly. He slowed and kept several bodies between them as he followed her out onto the platform. She continued up onto the streets and he stayed with her. Close enough to see her but far enough she wouldn’t see him.

Her building was among many sentinels looming along the New York skyline. Boxy overpriced apartments which were often barely more than a single room. He watched her flit inside and waited. Slowly, he approached the door and stepped inside the small entryway. It was empty.

He searched the rows of buttons for her name. The speaker was outdated and dirty. Even he could tell. Her last name was half-faded. He memorized her number and went back out into the street. He inhaled and shoved his hands in his pockets as he coolly walked on. He stopped just past her building and looked down the alleyway between it and the next.

The dimming sky contrasted the wrought metal of fire escape. He glanced over his shoulder and turned down the alley. The dumpster stunk and broken bottles littered the ground around it. He stopped beyond the stinking box and looked up. He bent his knees and jumped, catching himself on the bottom rung of the ladder.

He pulled himself up. Second floor, he noted. He climbed the first set of stairs and the next and on until he reached her floor. He counted the windows across the side of the building but it barely helped. He didn’t know where they started and ended.

He went to the end of the escape and the window beside him lit up. He ducked and listened. He could hear every step on the other side of the wall. His enhanced ears could even measure the heart beat within. He slowly raised himself and peeked over the window ledge.

He couldn’t believe his luck. Or the coincidence. It was her. Her purse was on the table as she removed her blazer. Her small apartment was cluttered but not messy. She yawned as she went to the fridge. She took out a slim can of sparkling water and opened it. She searched the shelves and pulled out a styrofoam box. She picked at the contents with a fork as she leaned on the narrow counter.

She slid her phone from her pocket and set it beside her leftovers as she scrolled with her finger. She turned it over and pushed it away from her. She sighed and flipped the lid closed. She tossed the container in the bin and crossed to the couch on the other side of the counter.

She dropped down and flipped on the television. She spread out with her head against the arm. He could see her face as she wriggled and pulled the tails of her blouse from inside her pants. She unbuttoned just the first few buttons and then let her arm hang off the side. She fiddled with the remote then set it on the low table in front of the couch.

He watched her for a while. She didn’t do much. She just laid there. She turned onto her side and took off her socks. She closed her eyes but opened them shortly after. She changed the channel again and he backed away from the window.

He thought of forcing it open but didn’t dare to think beyond that. The little tug at the back of his mind scared him. What would he do if he just went in there? What could he do? He shuddered and crawled over to the stairs. He descended carefully.

When he reached the ground, he dropped down and took a breath. There was a heartbeat racing in his ears. It was his. He looked up and licked his lips. It took all his strength to walk away.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #she #fic #au #mcu #marvel #series #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

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tuanhood · 5 years ago

Text

35,000 ft

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff?, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, dirty talk, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, public sex (mile high club ALERT)

word count: 9,800+

summary: two years have passed since you last saw your ex-boyfriend. when you’ve thought about running into him again, it certainly wasn’t at 35,000 ft and it certainly wasn’t like this.

a/n: wow my longest one shot yet... UMMM it’s a little messy and all over the place but don’t hesitate to let me know what you think or if anyone wants to cry over the photos of Mark at home playing in the pool sMH. also i do not CONDONE cheating fyI

part 2: 125 ft

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“Yes, yes, yes I’ll call you when I land…” You mumbled through the phone, half paying attention and half trying to decide which sandwich would best suit your needs.

“Okay but seriously… call me. I hate it when you’re over there enough so not getting a call freaks me out even more.”

You wanted to roll your eyes and gag, but you stopped yourself knowing that it wasn’t what a typical girlfriend would do when on the phone with her boyfriend. You two were supposed to still be in the honeymoon phase, not the “he gives me the ick” phase already.

Then again, you had never even been in the “he gives me the ick” phase before. Yay for new experiences you guessed.

“Brian, it’s so fine. It’s one of the safest cities in the world, I’ve been so many times I don’t even need a map to tell me where I’m going.”

“I hope you still do though… Use a map. I don’t want you to get lost and I know that’s easy to do in those modern, technologically advanced smart cities.”

Being with Brian sometimes felt like there wasn’t even a fourth wave of feminism.

You weren’t sure why you were sticking around. Part of you felt pressured because you hadn’t had any actual relationships in… well awhile and your mom was constantly asking when you were finally going to get a ring on your finger and give her a grandchild.

Judging by all the outside influences that were currently controlling your life, it felt like maybe there isn’t a fourth wave of feminism. You were setting everyone back just based on your own sad life. Maybe it was best to just dump Brian and go back to your hook up days, the year and a half before him that was just endless amounts of sex with random guys trying to fix a piece of you that would never be put back together.

“Y/n? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here Brian.”

Even after being together for almost 6 months you couldn’t bring it in you to call him something besides his name. It was always Brian this, Brian that. Calling him a pet name made you cringe.

Yeah… Maybe it was definitely time to break up with him.

“Listen… I should go. I want to get something to eat before they start boarding since it’s a long one and all.”

But you’ll just do it later.

“Okay… sounds good. Get a small sandwich or something so you’ll feel full enough before they actually feed you on the plane.”

Suddenly you didn’t want a sandwich.

“Got it… Bye.”

“Love you, bye.”

You hear a noise letting you know the call has been disconnected and drop your hand, gripping the device at your side.

That was another thing. Brian had told you only 3 months of dating that he loved you – to which you had responded with “oh wow… that’s- that’s… so nice of you.” Being the nice guy, he was completely fine with you not saying it back, because he felt so sure that one day you would. He understood that you had issues with a past relationship that you weren’t quite ready to let go of yet, therefore your heart wasn’t completely available. He felt with time you would give in and love him too.

As of now you weren’t too sure… Especially if you did end up breaking up with him. At a later date and time of course. Maybe when you came back?

Your mind went blank as you looked at the shelves of the poorly made airport food in front of you. The sandwiches that had once looked good and enticing suddenly lost their luster and the last thing you wanted to do was waste money on one. Sighing, you glanced back down at the phone in your hand. The object felt more like a heavy weight and a burden rather than just a phone. It wasn’t due to work or family; it was just all because of Brian.

You’re startled when your phone comes to life once again under your gaze, buzzing softly.

Brian. Remember don’t forget to text me when you board!

It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever you were thinking of him. And to be honest it wasn’t that often.

A couple of weeks ago you were out to lunch with a few friends from college and when updating those who you hadn’t seen in a while on the goings-on of your life, you had at first redacted the fact that you had a boyfriend completely.

“Anyone romantic in your life?” Your friend Alice had asked you.

Without thinking you had begun telling her how he was in game design and was from LA just like you, but soon cut yourself off before you could talk about how cute his dog was. That’s when you realized you weren’t talking about Brian. Brian was in fucking accounting, not game design and was 100% allergic to any kind of animal. When your friend asked about your love life, you had him in mind and not Brian even though so much time had gone by.

You were starting to believe that you weren’t ready for a relationship at all.

Sighing, you figured that maybe chips would be a better and less smelly option for the plane ride. Knowing yourself you would probably dig into them within the first thirty minutes of the thirteen-hour trip.

You whip around to find wherever your newly desired snack choice could be when you catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. The goosebumps that make their way to the surface of your skin and the hair on the back of your neck standing up so eagerly causes your entire body to freeze with fear. There was only one person who made you feel this way, one person who made your blood run cold. The person you had just indirectly been thinking of.

No, no it couldn’t be.

You’re afraid to turn around, because more than anything you don’t want to be right. If you felt stressed thinking about Brian, you were going to have a panic attack from seeing him. Pivoting yourself to the left, you bite your lip anxiously unsure of how you’re supposed to react if you are right. Taking in the sight behind you, you’re met with a father and daughter selecting candy from the shelves of the store. The individual causing your anxiety nowhere in sight. Your entire body relaxes.

The last thing you wanted was a fiasco in the international terminal at LAX. It certainly wouldn’t do you, your family and your company any good to make headlines. It especially wouldn’t have made Brian happy; he probably would have called you a hundred times in worry.

“I can’t fucking believe it.”

And just like that you’re snapped out of your daze, your false security vanished, goosebumps emerging once again. This time there were no questions. That voice. It was him.

Turning back around you find yourself under the gaze of your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend who you haven’t seen in over two years.

You wish you could say that time hadn’t been good to Mark, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He had somehow become even more attractive in the last two years and the only real thing that seemed different about him was his hair color. The last time you had seen him he had been blonde, but now he had opted for a dark brown color. As much as you hated thinking it, it definitely suited him.

The last two years felt like a long blur of trying to forget him and everything or everyone associated with him. Those were of course difficult things to do, many of the people in your shared three-year life with Mark becoming some of your closest allies and the fact that Mark wasn’t an easy person to erase. Since the two of you met – even when you were just friends – you had a magnetic like pull to one another that couldn’t just be forgotten and dismissed. You were even feeling it right now after everything.

He’s wearing a tight smile, almost as if he too can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him. It was as though you were the one inconveniencing him, when he had been the one to even say something to you. If you had seen him first, you would have turned around and ran the other way pretending like it never happened. For some reason he was willing to acknowledge you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” his tight smile soon fades away and his voice is smooth as ice, a nonchalance to it that makes you question whether he even cares about this run in.

“Me either. Good to see you… Now if you’ll excuse me…” You replied pushing past him to continue your previous task of looking for chips. Much to your dislike, he follows you as you embark on one of the aisles, your eyes scanning the items placed out oh so carefully.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?”

The last you had heard of Mark was that he had moved to Beijing after being given a position at a video game development company. At first you had been surprised at Mark taking a job overseas, he had always expressed to you how even over his own dead body he would never leave LA, but ultimately him in China relieved you. No longer did you have to avoid your favorite spots in the city for boba or the park bench where you got most of you best thinking done. You didn’t even have to be worried about getting invited to a party or dinner with a friend, wondering if Mark was going to show up. With Mark gone you could freely have your life back and not walk around with the fear of running into him. But you guessed that it could only have lasted so long before fate – as cruel as she was – brought you two together again.

“No that’s okay. I’m good,” you go down another aisle, he still follows suit.

Where were those damn chips?

“If you’re looking for the chips, they’re over there,” he said pointing behind you to the back wall in a location that you should have noticed sooner, “and if you want your favorite brand of salt & vinegar chips, they’re on the bottom shelf.”

Your stomach churned, he thought after all this time he would be able to still just know you like the back of his hand? What snack you’re looking for? What chips you like? No way.

Wordlessly you march to the back and stare at the shelves in front of you. You felt your hand dangerously moving forward to the bottom to grab the salt & vinegar chips Mark mentioned, but you control yourself and pull back not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Instead you opt for plainly salted kettle chips.

“Thanks… you’ve been a big help. See you never,” you scoffed turning around to face him and pushing past him to pay for your item, leaving Mark in the dust behind you.

“What you’re not going to even pretend that it’s nice to see me?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you practically spat at him, the father and daughter from earlier staring at the two you, the father particularly appalled for your colorful choice of language.

Mark’s silent and you turn back to the self-checkout to scan your chips, hopeful to not think about your ex-boyfriend for the next thirteen hours. He watches you carefully as you take out your wallet to pay and tap your card against the reader. It isn’t difficult for him to sense the tension in your body, he can see it just from you performing the simple and mundane task of paying. The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause.

Grabbing your snack, you exit the small store and Mark follows you, grabbing your wrist, he tries again, “you could say something nice? Like you care? It’s been two years y/n… Can’t we just be normal people with each other?”

At this you feel something in you snap, “I don’t care how much time has fucking passed Mark… I’m never going to get over you just completely throwing our relationship out the window. I can’t believe I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you… I was so fucking dumb to think you cared about me for even one minute. So, to answer your question… no we can’t just be normal people with each other. We were never normal people with each other to begin with.”

The two of you had started off as friends, just friends. It was something new for Mark, being just friends with a girl and not having sex attached. Many people in your life warned you not to get close to him, that he was just a fuckboy who didn’t care about the emotional – it was only the physical with him. Ultimately you ignored him, becoming his friend and finding that you two just worked together. First you worked together as friends and soon you fell under his Mark Tuan spell, working together as lovers.

Throughout your entire relationship you did your best to trust Mark, which you accomplished for the most part, but in the back of your head you would constantly hear the voices of everyone around you. You would hear the stories of the girls he had before you and how terribly he treated them, but you ignored it all. After a while you started to think of it all a little less, people even congratulating you on lasting so long with Mark – something that tended to annoy you. You knew that they didn’t see the Mark that you knew, the Mark that wanted to be something else for you, the best for you. Then after three years together, almost a month after your anniversary, you found out he had been with someone else.

The old Mark had perhaps never truly vanished, but was just immensely good at hiding.

Now here you were in front of him and you couldn’t tell who this Mark was.

Mark scoffed, “you haven’t changed at all…” Now he was mad at you? “It’s probably better we just say goodbye here.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.”

He wanted to say more, but looking at how annoyed you were at merely being close to him, he let it go. It was hard for him to understand how he was feeling. He longed for you, but he also felt a lot of anger towards you that he wasn’t sure how to control.

Both of you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to be the first one to walk off. Without a word, you both collect yourselves and assumedly prepare to embark on your respective gates. Mark gives you a final glance with his fists now clenched in frustration and turns to walk toward his flight.

You realize he’s going the same direction as you and you follow awkwardly behind. After a moment – as if he can sense you’re still there – he turns around and scowls at you.

“Why are you following me?”

You snorted, the actual audacity of Mark Tuan. This is an airport for fuckssake, you can’t control where your flight is, “as if I would ever follow you! I’m going to my gate! I think the better question is why are you following me?”

“I’m going to my gate!”

“Okay!” You yell a little too loud, “Okay!” he repeated, matching your volume. You can sense that people are starting to stare at the two of you for your truly unprompted yelling.

Mark looks back at you once again, rolling his eyes. The two of you may have gates in the same area, but you can’t stand to look at him any longer – much less his back which you couldn’t help but notice has become much broader. Not that you would admit it to him… or anyone.

You pick up your pace, passing Mark and causing him to trail behind. You expect him to say some snarky remark or rude comment when you go in front of him, but instead all you hear is an annoyed groan. It’s when you finally reach your gate and sit down in the waiting area that you feel Mark is no longer right behind you, but instead frozen in the main concourse, in front of the space you’re seated in. He feels his mouth go dry and he wants to scream. All he wants is to just be rid of you, to not be forced to think of you when you’re right in front of him. He wanted to wipe his brain clean.

It suddenly dawns you on the reason why Mark is frozen as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. You stand up abruptly, “this can’t be happening.”

He snaps out of his trance with your words and comes closer to the gate, approaching where you’re seated. You’re just about to wave your hands, warning him not to come any closer when he huffs and sits down on a chair only few away from your own.

“You’re going to Seoul?” He says it as if you being allowed in the Korean peninsula is a disgusting idea.

“I’ve been traveling between LA and Seoul every 2 months for the last year and a half, so yes I am. Aren’t you supposed to be going to Beijing or something?”

He smirked, “I thought you didn’t care about what I was up to?”

“I only care if it assures that you’re as far away from me as humanely possible.”

Your ex looks at his watch and at the screen of the gate alerting passengers that boarding would begin in a few minutes, “well since you’re so curious. I didn’t like Beijing, so I found a job in Seoul that I like much better.

“Didn’t want to come back to LA?”

He looks back to you and you almost wish he hadn’t, “there’s not really a lot left in LA for me anymore.”

Both of you stare at one another for a moment, and you feel your stomach flip. Does he mean what I think he means? Your eyes drift down to your lap and you feel yourself pulling out your phone, not needing any more Mark.

You manage to pass 10 minutes this way, aimlessly refreshing your emails and ignoring Brian’s latest text asking if you’ve boarded yet. Being so engrossed in your phone, you didn’t even notice Mark’s constant glances up at you, wondering what you were looking at or who you were talking to.

There it is again, he thought to himself, Do I care? Do I not care? What the fuck, make up your mind dude.

When the call for First-Class boarding comes to your dismay, both you and Mark stand up. You try to just tell yourself that it’s not important, you would probably both be seated aisles apart, not having to spend any more unwarranted time together.

Even when you’re finally on the plane and find yourself behind him once again in the aisle, you tell yourself that this will be the last moment you have to see Mark Tuan.

“Here’s your seat sir, can I get you any drinks or snacks before take-off?” the flight attendant asked Mark when she shows him his seat. He gives this shit eating grin that makes you want to slap it off his face, you couldn’t believe he was doing this in front of you. What? Did he think he was going to get to fuck the flight attendant as an extra First-Class amenity?

“Ah no thank you, I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes,” you feel awkward standing in the aisle watching this unfold, especially since you can see the attendant is giving in, blush creeping up on her face from Mark’s smooth gaze. You clear your throat, reminding her that you too are there and she quickly turns to you, an apologetic look on her face.

“And here's your seat Miss,” she graciously steps back to let you slide into your seat and you don’t move.

This had to be a joke.

You looked from your seat, to Mark’s and then to the flight attendant.

“I can’t sit here... I’m sorry but there has to be another seat available.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there are no other openings in First Class. We only have seats available back in economy.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had been saving all of your miles for a First-Class upgrade for forever, there was no way you were going to give it up, “Mark move to coach.”

“Huh? Are you joking? My company paid for this; I’m not moving back there! You move!”

How were you supposed to sit in front of Mark Tuan for the next thirteen hours? The man who had loved you so deeply, but also caused you the most pain.

Just as people had stared at the two of you in the terminal, the other passengers in your surrounding area were also beginning to look. Maybe if the two of you got into one of your notorious screaming matches, someone would feel bad enough and offer to trade. You couldn’t do that to someone, you wouldn’t wish being stuck next to Mark Tuan on a long-haul flight on your worst enemy. Well… Mark was your worst enemy.

Smiling, you turn back to the flight attendant, “It’s fine… I’ll just stay here. Thank you though.” She gives you a smile, but you can sense some annoyance behind her eyes. You can’t blame her.

Mark looks at you wide eyed, previously caught up in organizing his space, but snapping out his activities when he hears your dismissal about moving seats, “uh… what are you doing? Are you seriously going to sit here?”

“Yes Mark. Unlike you, I paid for my seat so I’m not moving anywhere.”

He scoffed, “Fine.”

“Fine!”

hour one

“Ma’am could you tell the gentleman in 3A to stop chewing so loudly?” You asked the flight attendant, putting on the sweetest voice possible. Mark was driving you up the wall and you were only an hour into the flight.

It was almost as though you could hear every single cough, every shifting in his seat and it was all driving you up the wall. Just knowing he was there irked you.

The flight attendant looks clueless and as she opens her mouth slowly, unsure of how to respond. You hear Mark’s low voice grumble from behind you, also addressing the attendant, “uh ma’am can you tell the lady in 2A to mind her own business, pop a xanny and just go to sleep?”

She clearly wasn’t expecting to deal with any difficult passengers this early on in a thirteen-hour flight. For her sake you wish you could deal with Mark and be more civil, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

hour three

“Y/n…”

Be strong, you tell yourself, don’t look back, you can get through this.

“Y/n?”

It’s probably not important… He just wants to annoy you.

“Y/n!”

Screw being strong.

“What the fuck do you want?” Being in semi-pods in First-Class it was difficult to just whip around and face Mark, to show him your annoyance under the lights beginning to dim.

“Do you have any extra AirPods?”

“Why the fuck would I just carry around extra Airpods around with me? Are you an idiot?” You sneered.

“Jesus Christ I was just asking. You don’t have to be so vicious. Maybe someone should fuck the tension out of you,” he said, mumbling the last part. He says it so quietly and so half assed that you almost think that you misheard him.

“Choke on a dick Mark,” you replied quietly, not wanting the other passengers to hear or disturb the few who had already drifted asleep.

He scoffed, “maybe you should be.”

You were wrong, the Mark that you had reunited with was just the same old fuckboy Mark who didn’t give a fuck about anyone.

Placing your AirPods in your ears, you close your eyes and ignore the rest of Mark’s efforts to speak to you, just wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in your hotel room in Seoul.

hour seven

You pop your headphones out of your ears in frustration, feeling as though you hadn’t managed to get any real sleep during the hours that had passed. You look behind you to Mark’s seat, and feel relieved to see his eyes closed and a slow, shallow breath coming from his mouth.

It felt weird to gaze at Mark and know you were no longer apart of his life. Sure, it had been two years, but you hadn’t seen him or had to deal with the reality that there was now a separate you and a separate Mark. Two entities that had nothing to do with one another anymore. Although sometimes it felt like you were still anchored to him.

Suddenly he shifted over onto his side, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. The only thing you could make out was your own name. It made you feel uncomfortable, not because he was clearly dreaming about you, but you felt as though you were invading his private space, infiltrating an intimate moment.

“y/n… please…” he mumbled.

You felt like you’d heard enough. The flight was making you restless and you weren’t sure what you would do if you kept listening to Mark’s breathless calls for you. Standing up, you decide it’s probably best now to stretch and go to the bathroom, before you embark on your further slumber.

When you finish up in the bathroom, you almost have a heart attack pulling back the door to be met with Mark’s tall figure.

“Oh my god you scared me,” you said placing your hand on your chest. You shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom with the door closing firmly behind you. Attempting to go back to your seat, you position yourself to move past him, but he moves along with you to keep you from leaving.

“What are you doing?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s taken over him, he had woken up in a frenzy, his dreams not doing anything to help his mental state. He hadn’t dreamt about you in months, but of course as soon as you’re back in his life he has to have fantasies of you wrapped around him once again. It was torturous, especially with you only a few feet away from him. He dreamed about having you every way and any way, feeling like he was going crazy. When he saw you missing from your seat, he immediately got up almost as if in a sleep induced haze unable to control his actions.

"When are you going to stop pretending that you don’t want to be under me again?” he purred.

Your blood goes cold. Was he drunk? His words make you nervous, scared that someone could hear, but looking around the dark cabin it seemed as though everyone in First-Class was fast asleep.

“Mark…” you begin, your tone clearly frustrated, but also weakening a bit, clearly evident that his words are affecting you. It had been so long since someone talked to you like this, and you felt that the hours you had spent on the plane already altering your sanity.

“You were always such a good girl for me, what changed? When did you become so stubborn? What happened to my girl who was always so willing and sweet?”

“I was screwed over by an asshole, that’s what happened,” you mumbled trying to avert his gaze and prayed that maybe if you weren’t to look at him you could pretend that there wasn’t a part of you hanging on his every word.

“That was in the past. I’ve changed now… But I’m still your boy. Even after two fucking years, I’m still yours.”

You want to fight with him, say that if he was always your boy and still is then he would have never cheated on you. He would have never spent a night with someone else.

“Let me fuck the anger out of you.”

“What?” Okay he had to be drunk.

“You and I have too much sexual tension, and we’re both angry so let’s just fuck to relieve the tension.”

“You’ve said some pretty fucking dumb things before, but this is… this is…” you drift unsure of what exactly you think it is.

“A good idea?”

“Mark I’m not having sex with you in an airplane bathroom.”

“What? Like that’s bothered you before?”

When you were with Mark, the two of you would have sex in the riskiest places, so you weren’t a stranger to the kind of sex where you could be caught at any moment, but you had never joined the mile-high club before.

“We’re not together. I hate you and you hate me… for some reason.” You never understood why exactly Mark had been mad at you all of these years and acted as though you were the devil himself when he had been the one that ruined the two of you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t given him a second chance? Maybe it was from the influence of you hating him? Or maybe it was because you had never been enough for him, otherwise what would have caused him to spend the night with another woman?

Mark clicked his tongue and it causes you to bring your attention to his mouth. It almost makes you lose focus completely. “So what if we’re not together anymore? Does that matter?”

Does that matter?

His words make you remember something. Something very important.

Brian.

“Yes, it matters. I-I have a boyfriend,” for some reason the word “boyfriend” seems to be hard to get out. It was always weird to associate Brian as your boyfriend or your “partner,” but saying it to Mark felt like the weight of a ton of bricks.

In the dark lighting of the cabin you can just make out the frown that spreads across Mark’s face. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and the cocky façade is back.

“And that’s a problem?” your ex asked.

As you’re about to protest and tell him that commitment in relationships is important to you, Mark reaches his hand out to rest on your bare shoulder, running it softly up and down your arms in a soothing pattern. It was a common gesture between the two of you, something Mark would constantly do whenever you were telling a story or the times you would fall asleep at night. It puts you at ease and you feel yourself close your eyes at his touch.

Mark would be lying if he said the word “boyfriend” coming out of your mouth didn’t disappoint him. In fact, he felt a similar pain to the one he felt two years ago when you had broken up with him. Mark wasn’t daft, he knew what you thought of him – a player, a fuckboy and someone who never cared about you in the first place. It hurt him to know that you were just like everyone else around him who had a preconceived notion of who he was or what he did. At one point in time he thought you were different.

But now looking at you and having you back in his life – even for only a thirteen-hour plane ride, he just wanted you back in his arms, back under his touch. He knew he should have felt guilty for not giving one fuck about this “boyfriend” you had acquired at some point during your two years apart, but he didn’t care. If he was going to have to be that cocky fuckboy who paid no mind to any consequences to get you, then so be it.

“Come on… it’s been two years… let me feel that pussy that I’ve missed so so much,” he whispered seductively against the shell of your ear, “let me fuck into it so good, because I know no one’s filled it up so well since me. Especially not that boyfriend.”

His words cause you to moan involuntarily and the noise awakens both you and him. You immediately shoot your hand up to cover your mouth, unsure of what’s getting into you. You were supposed to hate Mark, you had spent the last two years training yourself to hate him just in case a moment like this were ever to arise. But maybe that was an easier thing to imagine when you hadn’t seen him, because now with his hands gently caressing you and his request to be inside of you once again, you feel anything but hate. You feel want.

“Fuck Mark…”

“Just say the word baby, and you have me,” he whispered, delicately placing an open mouth kiss on your wrist, slowly continuing up your arm.

What were the pros and cons of this? If you were in any other difficult situation you would take a pause and list all of the good and bad things that could come from this. The big con was Brian… Even if you had been feeling strange about where your relationship with him was going and found him to be suffocating, you couldn’t do to him what Mark had done to you. Another negative factor emerged in your mind… you didn’t want to be put under Mark’s spell again, you couldn’t. Even being this close to him made you feel things that you had been trying to forget for two years, sleeping with him after all this time would only make it worse. That worried you. But judging on the primal way your body was reacting to Mark – your wet core being a clear sign – you knew this wasn’t going to be a logical decision where the cons outweigh the pros.

“I-” you’re about to do it, you’re about to gain enough strength to tell him you don’t want him anymore, but when he pushes your hair away from where it lays on your shoulder and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, any willpower you had vanishing. His gentle sucking on the sweet spot of your neck that he knows oh too well causes you to let out a whimper and he smiles against your skin, knowing he has you.

“Do it,” you mumbled, eyes still closed.

Mark brings his lips back to your ear, “do what baby?” His cocky tone makes you want to roll you eyes. He had always done this – torture you until you were begging to feel his touch.

You open your eyes and give yourself a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the plane and focus on Mark’s face in the small space in front of the bathroom. You want to see his gaze when you make your non-logical decision.

“Fuck me.”

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he brings his arm forward and behind you to pull open the bathroom door, pushing you backwards into the cramped space.

It’s when he’s pressed up against you and locks the door behind him that the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Just as you feel yourself get used to the harsh lighting, you freeze at Mark’s intense stare.

“What are you looking at?” You asked.

He smiled and glanced down at the floor shyly, then back up at you, “You.”

For the first time since seeing him again at the airport store you feel those feelings in your stomach. No hate, no indifference and no bitterness towards Mark - not even just lust. Instead you felt a warmth for him that reminded you of the good days, not the bad ones. The swell in your heart worried you and you didn’t want to feel or dwell on it so you lean forward and kiss him.

Mark’s lips on yours doesn’t do anything to eliminate the softness you felt for him moments before, if anything it only intensifies it. It feels as though no time has passed for the two of you and the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for has finally found its way back to you.

A low growl comes from Mark’s throat and it sends your hands to find shelter in his hair. When you were together you had always had a weird thing for Mark’s hair. You loved running your fingers through it, gently massaging his scalp and tugging at the roots. Mark would always joke that you would probably break up with him if he ever shaved his head, which you didn’t exactly argue with. And now it just felt so good to have your hands where they belong. It’s almost as though Mark’s read your mind and he smiles against you lips when he feels your hands, “pull as hard as you want.”

You feel his tongue at the seam of your lips, urging itself through to deepen the kiss and you tell yourself that it’s not too late, this can be the moment that you opt out for what a mistake this would be. With his hands drifting down from your hips to your ass, you feel yourself part your mouth voluntarily, realizing that you don’t want to stop this. You want to make this mistake; you want nothing more than to let him feel you and taste you even more.

“I want to taste you so bad,” Mark whispered against your lips, “see if you taste as good as I remember.”

You want that more than anything. Mark had always been so good with his tongue and just thinking about the hours he had spent between your thighs in the past made you even wetter than when you were having sex with Brian. Judging however, on the space you were both in, you didn’t know if it was physically possible. He can sense your hesitancy by the way your lips begin to still against his.

He breaks apart from you and gently rubs his thumb along your jawline and lips, “don’t think too much.” In an instant Mark’s crouched down in the very small space in the bathroom and you immediately find yourself worried about his comfort level, “are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you, a dark look in his eyes and waved you off, “don’t worry about me babe, I’m about to have the best meal of my life.” At the end of his sentence he reaches up to the hem of your leggings and pulls them, along with your panties down in one sweep, pushing them aside. You’re almost surprised at his loftiness, but you remind yourself that it’s Mark. He moves a hand around to the back of your knee, hoisting one of your legs up onto the closed toilet seat, pushing the rest of your body up against the small sink counter. Although the space was already limited as it was, the position brought your core closer to his face and as you looked down to see the way his tongue stroked across his lips, you felt yourself already get lightheaded.

He began with leaving open mouth kisses along the inside of your lifted thigh and another on the top of your pubic mound. It was enough to make you feel shaky, as though the one leg that was supporting your weight would give out at any moment. You found yourself unfazed, you knew Mark would be there to catch you if you fell.

Mark leaned in further, his tongue delving between you folds to gather up as much of your wetness as he could, giving you a noisy taste that had him groaning, head pulling back and licking his lips after his first taste in two years.

“You taste even better than I remember, how the fuck could you get sweeter? I don’t even want to go back to my seat after tasting you, I could sit in this bathroom with my mouth on you till the end of the flight.”

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to be stuck in this crammed bathroom with Mark for as long as you both could get away with. The person who was contemplating whether or not this was a bad idea didn’t even exist to you anymore. One lap of his tongue on you and you were reminded of all the ways he could make you fall apart.

He tongued your clit slowly at first, every stroke almost teasing – as if he was making up for the years you two spent a part. His tongue would slip lower, working its way along your gushing entrance to remind you how much he relished your flavor before returning to your clit, the wet sounds of Mark’s sucking not even embarrassing to you. It was when Mark began to groan against you and swirl his tongue and suck that you felt your hands go back to his hair, roughly pulling him closer.

“Mark, I-I can’t… I’m gonna – fuck,” you moaned out unable to form a functional and coherent thought. As you feel your orgasm on the horizon and just around the corner, you tug at Mark’s roots further, which encourages him to pick up the pace of his tongue, wanting you to cum on his face just like you had many times before. He wanted to drive you to the brink of pleasure, but he also wanted to prove to himself that he could still bring you to the edge with just his tongue.

Any delicacy he had been exhibiting before is completely gone, the way he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves causes your chest to heave and sweat on your brow. You’re so caught up in Mark that you barely notice your foot beginning to slip from its security on the toilet. Mark swiftly acknowledges your pending loss of balance and tugs the leg up onto his shoulder, not removing himself from you for even a moment.

You could feel yourself twitch and the arching of your hips towards his face, “come on baby I know how close you are, I need you to cum for me. Cum for me like all the times before, all over my face. I want it so bad.”

Mark’s muffled words against you and the final groans he emits from how much he loves your taste is the last straw as you finally let go and the waves of release crash over you. He doesn’t give way as you buck yourself further into him one final time, his back practically hitting the wall of the bathroom. Your body comes down from your climax and you look to see Mark gratefully clean up the release he caused. When he takes his mouth away, you feel your core wavering against the emptiness and loss of warmth it had felt, almost as though it wanted Mark to be a permanent attachment to you. You’re breathless, head falling back to the mirror behind you as Mark stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and jawline which had become messy and shiny with your juices.

“I knew you were still my little slut,” he pushes the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind you, “letting me have you in a fucking bathroom at 35,000 feet. How else will you let me have you?” He asked attaching his lips back to that spot on your neck.

It dawns on you that there’s no winning. You once again are completely under the spell and at the mercy of Mark Tuan, willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. “M-Mark whatever you want.” At your response he simply smirked, quickly pulling his joggers and boxers down, his painfully hard cock slapping against his lower stomach.

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long to have you around me again. I never thought I would, and I’m going to make every second count.”

He positions himself in between your legs, gripping your hips and pauses for a moment, clearly contemplating something. Mark hadn’t planned on having sex on the plane, nor did he plan on even seeing you again.

“Mark if it’s about the condom, it’s fine… I don’t care, I’m still on the pill and I-I trust you.”

At your trust in him, something he had so deeply been wanting all these years, he doesn’t hesitant another moment at placing himself at your entrance. His teasingly slow rubbing against your slit causes you to let out almost a growl at how much you needed him to be inside of you.

“How much do you want it y/n?”

“So bad.”

He pushes into you suddenly, “you’re still my cockslut, huh?” The feeling is too good and too great to answer him, but he’s not satisfied with your nonresponse.

“Answer me.” He sunk himself inside of you further and you do your best to let out the smallest and most inaudible “yes” you’ve ever heard, which thankfully seems to be enough for him.

“God,” he groaned, “you’re still so tight.” He looks down at the space where your bodies meet, fixating his gaze at the visual of his cock slipping inside your sensitive and swollen folds. Mark waited for a moment for your pussy to get used to having him inside you again, to get reintroduced to his length and girth which it had been so accustomed to in the past. Despite the time that had passed, you felt no discomfort except for the mental discomfort in your head that just wanted him to fuck into you quickly and harshly.

“Taking me so well, squeezing every inch of me. This pussy knows who it belongs to, who it deserves to be fucked by.”

“M-Mark,” a final moan of his name is all it takes for him to begin his first real thrust into you, pulling himself out almost entirely. You feel so sensitive and overworked from your earlier orgasm that you aren’t sure how long you can last with the way your walls are clenching around Mark.

His pace soon became brutal and you’re thankful the loud sound of the engine could cover up the whimpers coming from your mouth and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Mark’s fingers press into your hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises that you’ll have to explain later, but for now the only thing you can focus on is how full Mark is making you feel. He removes his hand from your side and brings it down between the two of you, fixating on your clit, rubbing until it ached. It caused your body to clench on him further, the continual touch and his fucking into you making you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

Mark groaned at how snug you felt and how deep you were taking him, his head falling into the crook of your neck and against the bathroom mirror, “whose are you?”

You know what he wants you to say, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, even in the heat of the moment. It could lead to misunderstandings and a more complex outcome than just that of having sex with him in a fucking airplane bathroom.

“Whose are you?” He repeated, this time a little bit softer and removing his head from your shoulder to look at you with worrisome eyes. Mark knows that if you say you’re his it’d most likely be untrue, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hear it one more time, even if it’s a complete and utter lie. He wants to know he has you, even if it’s for this one moment.

“Yours, I’m all yours,” you breathe out. It comes out on its own, without any time for you to process or comprehend what you’re saying. It surprises you so much that you aren’t even sure if it’s a lie or not.

That’s all he needed and he thrusts into you even harder, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to completely fall apart and combust. You’re too caught up in the pleasure of him ramming into you that you don’t even feel the pain that comes with your backside being continually pushed into small counter of the sink.

“Cum for me baby, I’m close and I need us to do this together. It’s all I want,” Mark said. His tone perplexes you. It’s forceful and authoritative something that you were no stranger to when it came to sex with Mark, but there was a clear tenderness to it that had you second guessing everything. Maybe this wasn’t just sex.

It’s one more strum of his cock against your g-spot and the pinching of your clit with his thumb and index finger that has you climaxing around him. The almost violent pulse from your pussy around him due to your orgasm has Mark following close behind, spilling himself deep inside of you. The ecstasy coursing through you causes your entire body to shake and twitch, wanting to collapse completely onto the bathroom floor. You fall against Mark’s body and in his own exhausted state he holds you close, protectively wrapping his arms around you making you feel secure.

You should want to get out of the situation immediately as a one-time thing, but somehow you can’t bring it in you to remove yourself from his grasp. You felt at home with Mark’s arms around you and him still inside of you. It was a comfort a sense of normalcy you hadn’t felt with anyone since Mark. He softly strokes your hair, placing gentle kisses on the top of your head remembering how much you liked it after a tiring session of sex.

It feels as though no time has passed, but soon you find yourself out of Mark’s hold. He removes his now soft cock from you and you can feel yours and his cum leaking from your core, down to your thighs. It’s almost as though this movement has finally woken you up. You delicately collapse onto the toilet, making sure to take extra care with your now jelly-like legs. With your head in your hands in disbelief at the actions you had just willingly followed through on, Mark stares at you.

“Fuck… I’m so mad at myself.”

With the small amount of space, he has, Mark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “why? That was so fucking great.”

You looked up at him in a scolding manner, he still had no perception of reality, but apparently now you were one and the same. “Because now I did the same thing to Brian that you did to me.”

There’s a pause and Mark avoids all eye contact with you. He had imagined this talk so many times – the talk the two of you never got to have and he really didn’t want it to be here, like this. But by some strike of luck, fate had brought you back to him, even for a short period of time and he may never get the opportunity to come clean again.

Choosing to continue to avert your gaze, Mark sighs deeply and busies himself with pulling up his joggers.

“I didn’t cheat on you.”

You feel like ice and your whole body goes numb, “W-what?”

He sighs again, looking down, “I never cheated on you.”

You think there’s no way you could have heard him correctly. Your entire break up, the reason you ended your passionate love story with the one person you saw a future with came from his cheating. It couldn’t be a lie… Could it?

One thing was for certain, you knew Mark so well and judging by the fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers you can tell you still do. And he was telling the truth. Your stomach flipped.

“Then why did you let me believe that you did?”

“You were the only person in my life who didn’t believe all those stupid rumors about me, the only person who didn’t believe I was a fuckboy like everyone thought… but then the moment someone tells you they think they saw me with someone, you pack your bags. I figured you wouldn’t believe me, just like everyone else.”

It’s ridiculous. The words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous, but part of you understands what he’s saying. Maybe you had been too quick to judge, too quick to believe everyone else’s preconceived notions regarding your own boyfriend, but what were you supposed to do when he didn’t even defend himself?

“You know… even after all this time, I still don’t know why I hated you. I really don’t know if it was because I thought you cheated or because you never went after me when I left.”

Mark’s silent, and the weight of the situation continues to hit the two of you like a bus. Part of you feels betrayed by him. More betrayal then when you first heard the rumors. The two of you could have been together this whole time, saved each other from years of pain, sorrow and longing, but instead it’s almost as though he forced it upon you both.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Jesus fuck Mark we’re not Marianne and Connell from Normal People, we can talk to each other.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Who?”

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV since we broke up.”

There’s another silence between the two of you and in the small space it feels deafening and suffocating. You want nothing more than to go back to your seat and forget this even happened. Weirdly enough, the sex part you were fine with. It was this conversation that left you feeling like you couldn’t get a proper breath of air into your lungs, almost as if you were drowning.

You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll beside you and use it to attempt to clean up the mess that had already begun drying on your legs. Mark watches you mindlessly, unsure of what to say himself. He knows he made a mistake from not telling you and effectively keeping the two of you apart, but every time he would reach for the phone to dial your number he would be reminded of the pain he felt and all the things you had called him that day.

Everyone was right! Why didn’t I just fucking listen to them? Does a three year relationship mean nothing to you? I thought you changed… were different… but now I just feel like I wasted my time.

“I-I really don’t know what to say if I’m honest,” you finally stuttered out, grabbing your discarded leggings and pulling them on, “did you want me to leave you?”

Mark shakes his head vigorously, completely taken aback at you even thinking that, “no... Not at all... I just- it was complicated.”

“Right and you don’t do complicated. Got it.” You stand up and move to unlock the door, but Mark moves in front of you as he did earlier.

“Y/n... Can we just talk about this? When we land can we just go to a cafe and talk about everything? I still- I mean... even after all this time I-” He begins, but you’re too scared to hear him finish the sentence.

“Mark we’ve had a lot of time to talk. Just please let me go back to my seat.”

This time he makes no effort to stop you from leaving and you quickly slip out of the bathroom, fearful someone might see you. Luckily, everyone is still fast asleep and you walk back down the aisle to your seat wanting to forget about what Mark had said.

You couldn’t deal with the what ifs, you couldn’t get lost in a fantasy of imagining that maybe you and Mark could be married already if he would have just said something. You couldn’t be that cruel to yourself.

After a few moments, you notice the bathroom occupied sign go away, signaling Mark’s arrival back to his seat.

He knows he could just sit down and go back to sleep, falling back in to the way things were. But he had already not tried to go after you once before and he had been regretting it ever since. He had to say fuck that to all of the fears he had of being judged and put trust back into someone again. He wanted you.

Your eyes which had drifted closed soon shot open as you felt a movement at the side of your chair, turning to see Mark crouched down next you

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I already let go of you once, I’m not doing it again. If I have to spend the next,” he brings his watch up to look at the time, “six hours convincing you, then so be it. I’m not letting walk away from me this time.” At his final word he moves his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and goes to sit down. His eyes piercing into the back of your seat.

You felt Mark’s words, you felt them deeply in every part of you and it made you think that the Mark you love was still in there.

Love.

You still loved him.

The beating of your heart made it difficult to fall asleep, but when you finally did you had a decision made and a smile on your face.

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #got7 fanfiction

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cutie1365 · 5 years ago

Text

Hello Detective Chapter 69

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I know how long it’s been since I posted... I have a lot planned for these next few chapters so I hope it doesn’t take me as long!

(italics are flashbacks)

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

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The next month went by in a blur. Sometimes it seemed as if the memories weren’t even real. How could you have so much happiness ripped away from you in a matter of hours? You knew how, there was one man responsible for what was to come. You were happy, it felt like just yesterday you were lying in Sherlock’s bed after John and Mary’s wedding.

“You know we can’t stay in bed all day.” You tilted your head up to Sherlock from its resting position on his chest.

“Why not?” He complained, moving his hands from behind his head. One finding its way onto the small of your bare back.

“Some of us have jobs.” You answered, but he only rolled his eyes.

His other hand found yours, as he brushed his hands gently over your fingers, admiring your ring.

“I don’t want to take it off.” You smiled, following his gaze.

“Then don’t.” He answered simply, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss across your knuckles.

“I’d give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack.” You shook your head at his suggestion. He really wasn’t grasping this whole ‘secret engagement’ thing.

“Well you might be right about that.” He conceded.

“For now it can be our little secret.” You smirked, sitting up in bed and wrapping the sheet around your chest for warmth.

“We might as well just get married then.” Sherlock muttered, pushing up until his back was against the headboard.

“You can’t plan a wedding in a week, Sherlock.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“We could elope. No crowds, no telegrams, no speeches.” He nearly shuttered at the memory.

“No attempted murder.” You reminded him with a smirk, causing him to laugh.

“Just you and me.” He stroked the side of your face.

You considered for a moment what this would mean, and it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

“Our mothers are going to kill us.” You shook your head with a sigh.

“Is that a yes?” Sherlock asked, surprised you actually were on board with this.

“I don’t want a big wedding, I don’t want to be walked down the aisle. I want you, and that’s enough. It’s a piece of paper.” You shrugged. After all you’ve been through together, you knew you didn’t need a piece of paper to prove your commitment and connection.

Sherlock wrapped his hand around the back of your head, pulling you closer to him until your lips met. Marriage for him was one thing, and he never thought he’d actually be here, with someone he loved and was actually wanting to marry, but a wedding... that was too far. He didn’t need a spectacle, he just needed you.

“I knew I loved you.” He chuckled, shaking his head as you broke apart.

“Well I should hope so. Now move over, I need to shower and go to work.” You playfully shoved him off of you as you tried to climb to the other side of the bed.

“I could join.” He smirked, wrapping his hand around your arm, keeping you in place.

“Come on then... fiance.” You shook your head with a smile.

And elope was exactly what you did. You could still feel the cool spring air whipping around you in your short white business dress as you stepped into the courthouse hand in hand.

“We’re really doing this aren’t we?” You looked up to Sherlock with a nervous smile.

“It would appear so.” He said, squeezing your hand. Was he nervous too?

“There’s still time to back out if you don’t want to do this.” You spoke softly, you wanted him to be happy, and you didn’t want him to do this just because it was something he thought you wanted. You hoped he wanted this too.

“Never.” He smiled, leading you inside the judge’s chambers, calming any fears you may have had.

Knowing your position and both of your occupations would put you both in danger, you both agreed it was best to not tell anyone yet. You made sure that the marriage certificate would remain confidential and redacted for anyone who would try and look it up.

The week before John and Mary were set to return from their honeymoon, the two of you wondered if that was something you had to do. What’s the point of a honeymoon? Or sex holiday as Sherlock so charmingly called it.

“Do we need a honeymoon?” Sherlock asked you abruptly the moment you entered the room, coming home from work. In his hands he was flipping over a postcard that John had sent.

“I have a better idea.” You smirked, holding a file behind your back. What opportune timing he had to ask about a honeymoon.

“What’s that?” Sherlock tilted his head slightly, eyeing what you were hiding.

You took a step towards him, before dropping the file into his lap.

“Triple murder, Inverness.” You spoke, and his eyes lit up. He jumped from his seat, file in hand and kissed you.

“You’re already making a wonderful wife.” He chuckled, kissing you once more before flipping through the details of the case.

His reaction brought a smile to your face. You knew he needed a case, he was going crazy being cooped up in the flat, and you were due for a vacation. Two birds, one stone.

“How exactly did you convince them to give us this case?” He asked, seeing no sort of consultation or jurisdiction transfers in the file.

“I called their police commissioner personally. It took less than five minutes.” You shrugged, and Sherlock was impressed. A slight abuse of power, but to him it was worth it. Besides, with the two of you on the case, the likelihood of finding the killer before someone else gets hurt just went up tenfold.

“And what did you tell Mycroft?” He asked, knowing it would be suspicious if the two of you just went on holiday suddenly to Scotland, after all you were keeping this whole marriage on a need to know basis. He was also technically your boss, and you’d need a good reason to skip out on work and cash in a few vacation days.

“That the Scottish Highlands police commissioner begged you to take the trip, and I’ve never been, so I just had to tag along.” You spoke just as innocently as you had when explaining to Mycroft that you’d be back in a few days.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger don’t you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s a gift.” You shrug, smiling.

Naturally you two couldn’t just have a quiet, peaceful honeymoon in the Scottish Highlands. No, that would be too ordinary, too mundane. Sure there would be sightseeing, well if that included crime scenes. And of course no Scottish honeymoon is complete without a pub crawl, well maybe a pub brawl. Wrap that all together and sprinkle in a killer just desperate to be caught, and you have the perfect combination for a honeymoon- Sherlock Holmes style. The game was on!

“You said he’d be here.” You looked around the pub carefully, employing the skills you’d learned during your time at MI6.

“Am I ever wrong?” Sherlock said cockily, with the raise of a brow.

You raised your fingers, prepared to count all the times he was in fact very wrong, but he stopped you the moment you opened your mouth.

“Ok don’t answer that.” He said, covering your hand with his.

You smirked in response, knowing you were right.

“All his victims were females that frequented this pub. He meets them here, they take him back to their homes and he dismembers them.” Sherlock explains. Charming subject matter for a honeymoon, but when it came to your lives, were you really surprised?

“Then we’re missing an obvious strategy here.” You said plainly, hoping it would be clear as day to him.

“And what would that be?” He asks, not understanding your insinuation.

“Bait.” You motion to yourself as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes go dark for a moment, his jaw clenching in a way you’ve seen a few times before.

“No, absolutely not.” He said in a protective tone.

“Oh come on, no one knows who I am here. We can expedite the process.” You explained, assuring him that everything would be alright.

Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. He knew there would be no convincing you otherwise.

“Fine,” He huffed, standing from his seat next to you and moving to the other side of the room, leaving you alone at the bar. It didn’t take long for you to be approached, just as you expected.

“Well aren’t you a bonnie lass. Let me buy you a drink.” A curly haired man appeared beside you and spoke in a thick Scottish accent.

“Thank you.” You smile sheepishly with a giggle, playing your role of the dumb American.

“American? You’re a far way from home aren’t ya lassie.” He chuckles deeply, thinking you’d be the perfect target... little did he know.

“A little bit.” You giggled as two drinks were placed in front of you. Whiskey, neat.

“Have you been up to Culloden yet?” He pointed out the window in the general location of the historic battle site in an attempt to get you to follow his gaze, so he could drug your drink while you weren’t looking.

“No I haven’t been.” You shook your head, turning back to him, making sure to let your gaze linger on the window for a moment longer. He offered you the drink and you smiled, taking it from his hand. You make sure to keep your lips closed as you take a sip, not ingesting any of the liquid. Hopefully the police could match the drug to the one found in the victims toxicology reports.

“You here all by yourself, lassie?” He asked, smirking as you ‘drank’.

“Well I’m here with you, aren’t I?” You smiled, and he chuckled deeply.

“Good answer.” He almost growled as he went to whisper in your ear and his hand worked its way up your thigh.

“Why don’t we get out of here-” He began to whisper in your ear before he was abruptly ripped off of you. It didn’t take a genius to guess by who.

There were profanities exchanged and punches thrown, as more and more men joined in, some to help a fellow Scot, and some to help ‘defend your honor’. You were able to pull Sherlock away before he got hurt. Bloody knuckles you could handle, but a busted lip or cheek would not make for a happy honeymoon memory.

“I had it under control.” You hissed at him, your hand still wrapped around his arm.

“He drugged you!” Sherlock argued.

“I know!” You yelled back, pointing to the drink at the bar. The man's drink was almost empty and yours had the same amount of liquid as when it was handed to you, even though you appeared to have been sipping on it for a while. He was so focused on the man’s body language and hand on your leg that he’d missed that.

“Oh,” Sherlock muttered as he realized.

Our heads whipped back to the door as three officers and the local detective you’ve been working with walked in. Sherlock must have called them as you were playing dumb. He nodded to the officer and eyed the man the bouncer now had pinned to the wall.

Everyone cleared out soon after that and the two of you stood outside in your coats, watching the police put the man into the back of a police car.

“Are you sure it’s him? I mean, sure he was a little creepy and handsy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a serial killer.” You said, not that you were defending him, you just wanted to be certain.

“His prints will match the scene, trust me.” Sherlock nodded confidently.

“But how can you be sure?” You tried once more.

“Because I’m Sherlock Holmes.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head and smiling.

If only things remained that easy, that carefree. If only all of your cases were that cut and dry. A man does something wrong, and he gets caught. He breaks the rules and laws of society, and he faces the consequences. But not all cases have a happy ending. Good doesn’t always defeat evil. Being on the side of the angels doesn’t mean that angels exist. But the devil does, and he walks the earth in the form of Charles Augustus Magnussen.

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

Please let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is greatly encouraged.

Remember to comment or reblog to stay on my taglist!

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sharperthewriter · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 7 of Possible-y Utah

Chapter 7 - The Mission-Trip 1

(2 days later. June 4, 2006, 2pm)

The Kimmunicator beeped the familiar four-ring tone on Kim's dresser as she was trying to get ready to go to the mall to see a movie with Ron and Monique that night. Kim was wearing a striped croptop shirt, stud earrings, a gold chain necklace, a silver locket pendant Ron gave her, and her famed Club Banana dark-denim baggy cargo overalls with the left strap hooked and right strap undone and sneakers.

She grabbed the Kimmunicator from the dresser and pressed the button as Wade came on-screen.

"Hey, Wade! What's the sitch?" Kim asked in her famed phrase.

"Hey, Kim. You got a hit on the site from Buckley Air Force Base in Colorado. The lead general of the base is on the line." Wade replied, typing away on his computer.

"Put him on-screen." she insisted.

Wade pressed a button as General Hux, a two-star general, came up.

"Miss Possible, I am glad that my superiors suggested your services." Hux replied. "We have a couple of gentlemen that hold something really important and valuable from a secret lab in Montana."

"What's the big about it?" Kim asked.

Hux tugged at his collar, "With all due respect, I'd rather not talk about it over public communications, Miss Possible. There is a reason why this is considered top secret."

"We will talk more about it in-person in 1600 hours, or 4pm to you civilians." the general continued.

"I will see you then, General!" Kim replied before tapping back to Wade.

"Looks like we're needed for our first mission of the summer." she said. "Movie night will have to be postponed to next weekend. I'll get Ron!"

"When you get closer to the base, I'll provide you with more info, Kim!" Wade insisted.

"Did I ever tell you that you rock, Wade!" Kim laughed.

(15 minutes later)

"Awww...snickerdoodles." Ron complained. Both Kim and Ron were at the Stoppable house and the both of them were in their mission outfits.

"Sorry, Ron. I know you wanted to badly see Bricks of Fury V: The Brickening for this weekend..." Kim began.

"And Rufus was all ready too!" Ron added.

Rufus got out a director's chair and sat onto Ron's shoulder. He grabbed a bullhorn and squeaked 'Action'!

"But our mission work comes first." Kim replied, pointing out on what mattered the most.

"You're right, KP. I just love you so much when we save the world together!" Ron gave his heart-felt reply.

"Aww...thanks, Ron!" Kim replied sweetly before a troop transport pulled up in the driveway.

"I take it that is going to be our ride." Ron guessed.

"Mmm-hmm. Now let's get in and see what the sitch is all about!" Kim insisted as she, Ron and Rufus went inside the transport.

(75 more minutes later)

Kim and Ron were with 20 other troops there heading towards the base.

"Can you help me here?" Ron whined, squeezed inbetween two of the troops. "I can't feel my legs..."

Sargent Jones was the commanding officer of the transport.

"Thanks for the lift, Sargent Jones." Kim replied as she traditionally did on all her rides to missions.

"Are you kidding, Miss Possible?" Jones replied, "It's the least I can do after you helped us lead on that rescue mission to save one of my troops."

"Oh that mission where we had an blizzard in a landside was so no big!" Kim grinned.

"We should be coming on the base very shortly, Miss Possible." Jones said, "I already gave the base security officer the request of security clearance for both you and...uhh...what's-his-face...to give access to the facility."

"Uh...the name's Stoppable...Ron Stoppable..." Ron insisted. "I'm the heroic sidekick slash distraction here!"

"Yeah...him." Jones replied. "Anyways, the BSO just replied. The two of you have been given clearance. General Hux should meet with you shortly, along with the scientists with the 'classified object'!"

"Understood, Sargent." Kim said.

(20 more minutes later)

Once the transport gained access to the base, it came to a complete stop at the front.

General Hux came to Kim and shook his hand.

"I am glad that you came on such short notice, Miss Possible." Hux said, "My soldiers have recommended your services for this mission."

"If there's anything that I can do, General Hux, just call me and beep me!" Kim insisted. "Where are the scientists?"

"They are at the other side of the base. Why not you and your partner step in a Humvee and we'll take you to them." Hux said, pointing to the intended Humvee that they were going in.

"Come on, Ron. Let's get inside!" Kim inclined.

"Right with ya, KP!" Ron said as he and Rufus entered into the vehicle.

(2:15pm)

"And there we go!" James exclaimed, "Everything is ready!" He then heard his cell phone ring.

James picked it up.

"Hello? Possible residence! Oh hey, Ann, my sweet honey bear! How are things at the hospital?"

"Good! Good! I have just finished the final preparations! No, I haven't told Kimmie-cub or Ronald yet. She says that she has to go on some mission. OK, I'll tell her when they both come back to the house! Okay, dear, bye!"

While the Humvee took Team Possible to the other end of the base, they took this opportune time to discuss something that was on Kim's mind.

"KP, do you think that Rebecca really is on the squad?" Ron asked, "Because I didn't like the way she treated Monique and Tara at the party a few days ago."

"No, Ron. According to the Mad Dog Cheer rulebook, Rebecca is only a prospective member on the squad. She has to go through tryouts in July first before she could join." Kim explained the procedure. "And besides, if she does that stuff, she will not be welcomed onto my squad."

Hux escorted the duo and the naked mole rat to a conference room in the base. It had a long table with 40 chairs in it.

"The scientists should be with you in a few minutes, Miss Possible. Make yourselves comfortable." Hux explained.

Kim and Ron then sat in the chairs as the two scientists came into the conference room. One was a female with blonde hair in her 30s, the other was a male in his 40s. Also wheeled into the room was a black box guarded by six soldiers.

"I am so glad that you are here, Miss Possible." the male scientist said. "We have heard of your marvelous reputation on taking on the most impossible of deeds."

"To be fair, Possible is in my name!" Kim smiled.

"We need your help in this trying time." the female scientist explained. "This involves a top-secret military experiment that we need help to transfer from here to another secret back located in the Utah desert."

"Since Hux told me that you're the main scientists behind the project, can you tell me what this experiment is?" Kim asked.

"Yeah, me and KP need to know what it is that we are dealing with." Ron added.

"I do apologize, Miss Possible..." the female scientist replied, "...but it is a matter of national security. About 98% of the information has been redacted from public eyes. But what we can tell you is that it should never EVER be removed from its protective box...or else!"

"Or else what?" Ron wondered.

"That it could fall into the wrong hands." the male scientist explained.

"And we do not want that to happen." the female scientist concluded. "So we are going to trust you with the protection of this object, Miss Possible."

"So when and where does the transfer of the...mystery object...take place?" Kim asked.

The male scientist answered Kim's question.

"It will take place about two weeks from now in Utah right outside the capital, Salt Lake City. On the 18th of June. "

"It's no big! I have a titanium-steel safe in my room where I keep my most glam jewels for special events." Kim explained, "The object will be safe until then."

"Then it's settled!" the female scientist replied, "Miss Possible has earned our trust to protect the object until the transfer occurs. We thank you for your services!"

"It's so not the drama!" Kim replied.

She then turned to her boyfriend. "Come on, Ron. Let's get a ride back to Middleton."

"Right with ya, KP!" Ron exclaimed.

#kim possible #fanfiction #ron stoppable #james possible #ann possible

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cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

Text

SURREPTITIOUS - DRACO MALFOY

CHAPTER THREE: DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS

SUMMARY: After getting her schedule, Leslie realizes that exams and essays just might be the least of her worries. WORD COUNT: 2.7k NOTES: Hello! It’s been a century..... whoops. WARNINGS: none!

MASTERLIST

THE NEXT MORNING, FOLLOWING THE feast the night before and catching up with others over breakfast, all the Slytherin six years patiently surround Professor Snape, the Head of Slytherin House, in the Great Hall as he files through their schedules thoroughly. Before the sixth years could be off on their way to class, their schedule had to be confirmed, ensuring they are fit for N.E.W.T.-level courses, considering how miserably difficult each class is.

Some of Leslie's housemates were already on their way, now leaving the young witch with just a few other students, all clad with a serpent emblem and matching emerald-and-silver ties.

"Greyscale," Professor Snape drawls.

The brown eyed girl takes half a step forward. He skims over her desired schedule, along with her O.W.L. scores, taking as much time as the previous students. Meaning, there was a heavy downpour in Leslie's racing thoughts for quite a few moments. Despite the beating of her heart, Leslie passed with high marks on her chosen classes. She was only worried about one in particular.

"Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Transfiguration are all fine. I must admit, I was pleased with your Potions mark and to see your continuation."

Despite Leslie's company and social inabilities, the long-time Potions professor (now Defense Against the Dark Arts) had a good standing with the girl. She did her assignments well and always lived up to his unrealistically high standards without complaint. Not many could say the same, so Leslie took his statement as a compliment. While the witch let out a breath of relief, Professor Snape had yet to confirm the last.

"But, I must ask: why the interest in Alchemy?"

Leslie had known her answer for a while. "My mother excelled in the practice, and I have always had an interest." Many years before Leslie was born, her mother had been gaining recognition for her work in the art, the Daily Prophet once even had a column titled "Witches You Should Know" with the mother's name at the top. Eve Greyscale was a talented, intelligent, and kind witch with a life ahead of her, but the world is unkind even to the most gentle of souls.

"Fair enough," the professor replies in understanding.

Professor Snape did not feel the need to question the girl further. After all, last term when she and the professor sat down for the mandatory meeting on what her last two years of Hogwarts should look like, Leslie informed him that she was still mostly uncertain which career path she desired. Perhaps Leslie would continue what legacy was stripped away all those years ago. "Lucky it was offered this term. Be sure you and Mr. Malfoy make Slytherin proud."

The girl could have blanched, but the parchment was held in front of her face, egging her to move and get on with her day. Leslie took the paper from the head of Slytherin House and glanced over to the pale blonde for a split second. As quickly as her eyes shot towards him, she looked away—she had not expected to see the young wizard already staring her down.

Leslie let out a long breath as she begun to head out of the Great Hall. Glancing down at the paper, her eyes absorbed her schedule for her sixth year at Hogwarts:

MONDAY: 10:00-11:00 : Defense Against the Dark Arts 11:00-12:00 : Lunch 13:00-15:00 : Potions

TUESDAY: 13:00-15:00 : Potions 15:30-17:00 : Charms

WEDNESDAY:

THURSDAY:

FRIDAY: 09:00-11:00 : Alchemy 11:00-12:00 : Lunch 13:00-15:00 : Transfiguration

The schedule is almost ideal, happy to see her Wednesdays and Thursdays would be free. Though, Leslie knows the off-days are intended for students to work on the vast amount of assignments. Nonetheless, she feels content.

"Hey, Leslie," a voice calls almost lazily.

Upturning her head, Leslie searches for voice, coming across a ginger boy. A distinct memory of her and different ginger boy, though a couple years her senior, alone and in very close proximity pops into her head and she feverishly tries to calm a blush. However, Ron Weasley spots it and it takes effort on his part to not laugh. Harry is with his friend and no doubt knows about the story in the two's head, having a twitch at the corner of his lips.

Leslie almost wants to run to the Slytherin common room, but instead, she smiles sweetly.

"Harry and I were comparing schedules," Ron informs her. "What's yours looking like?"

"Well, I have a free period now," - to this, Harry and Ron made a unanimous 'us too' - "And after, I have Defense Against the Dark Arts and then Potions later." Once again, the two Gryffindors make the same sound, the group pleased they share the same Monday schedule.

As the comparisons went on, Leslie discovered she also has Charms and Transfiguration with both Harry and Ron. It appeared the only class she had alone, at least so far to her knowledge, was Alchemy. The two Gryffindors made a face when they read the name on her timetable.

"Professor Snape said Malfoy is also in it." With a curl of her lip, Harry and Ron visibly see her lack of comfort in the ordeal. The duo understands all too well, and it only took befriending Leslie a year prior to propel their disdain.

"Malfoy is into that sort of thing?" Ron questions, his brow arched in disbelief. "Huh. I wouldn't have put him as someone interested in anything, except for being a royal git."

Leslie smiles though her eyebrows draw close. "Git or not, he's allowed to have interests. He's still a human, you know."

Ron scoffs, glaring at the platinum blonde now walking out of the Great Hall. "Hardly," is the ginger's reply which earns a good laugh from Leslie and Harry.

Now that the corridors were beginning to thin, Leslie decided she could afford to go back to the common room to grab more ink, having realize she only snagged a single bottle. "I'll see you in a few," Leslie tells her friends before taking the stretch to the dungeons.

══════════════════

Almost an hour later, Leslie's march ends at a queue leading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was nearly late, but luckily, Professor Snape is very punctual about when to let students inside his classroom, leaving them all to wait outside until 10 o'clock exactly.

She just reaches the end of the line when the door is swung open, revealing the professor.

"Inside," is all he says.

Leslie did not miss Ron's bright hair and while she would have chose to sit next him and his friends, Professor Snape made it a habit to sort his students by House. So, Leslie took to one side as the other houses took to another. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws took the front while the house of serpents and lions took the back.

Unfortunately, due to Leslie arriving last, the very back row had the only available seating. And what made things worse was who sat in the spot next to the last stool.

Despite her glancing around, there was no other option but for Leslie to sit next to the blonde Draco Malfoy, not having realized (nor is she surprised) he was in the queue for the Dark Arts class. It appears his lap dog Pansy Parkinson and his goons did not pass or choose to take a N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts, otherwise he'd have his own posse to take up the remaining seats. For once, Leslie is upset she and the Parkinson girl do not share a course.

What had happened on the train did not falter in retellings. She felt almost thankful Malfoy created a distraction for her head, that much she will admit, but a giant part nagging at her was the fact that it simply was Malfoy who triggered the silence. She doesn't know whether her bumping shoulders was just a break in the wiring or if his presence meant something else. Leslie also was not wanting to find out. Not to mention, the ordeal made Leslie uncomfortable with their history considered.

"You are the worst person I have ever met, Draco!"

"If you would just listen to me, instead of acting crazy—!"

The witch blinks away a fight from last term and, ever so reluctantly, Leslie lowers herself on Malfoy's left, keeping her eyes far from his figure as a scar across her right hand replays a story. She sets her bag down, knowing Snape will use the first few minutes as an introduction to the course.

Leslie waits for a remark, something cruel to come out of the boy's mouth. But nothing of the such passes his lips. Instead, she finally notices his eyes are angled at her hand that was fiddling with the quill on her desk. Faster than a Golden Snitch, she redacts her arm under the table.

It was only then did Leslie notice how Professor Snape turned the old classroom into something of his own— truly his own. The atmosphere is heavy and gloomy, curtains pulled over the windows and the only source of light comes from lit candles. There were pictures, too, that rose goosebumps on Leslie's arms; they all depict what she assumes is the aftermath of evil curses and dark magic.

"I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

Every wandering gaze fell upon the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion, I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be more advanced." The statement did nothing to calm the nerves of each student. They all went in knowing the difficulties of N.E.W.T. classes, but the reminder from the monotone professor makes everything more real.

"The Dark Arts," Professor Snape continues having rounded the edge of the room towards the gruesome photos, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" - all eyes absorb the sight of a witch shrieking an agony - "feel the Dementor's Kiss" - then a wizard with sunken, lifeless eyes huddled in a corner - "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" - finally, a bloody mass.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asks. "Is it definite? Is he using them?"

The mere concept of an Inferius makes Leslie shudder. To reincarnate the dead to do one's bidding is far too disturbing for her to stomach.

Professor Snape's eyes shows he did not appreciate the interruption. "The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

It was an answer every student knew, but Hermione Granger shot her hand up anyways. Leslie had to bite back the humored smile as the professor surveyed the rest of the classroom, hoping for another hand to raise. But no one wanted to deflate Hermione's ego.

"Very well. Ms. Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform which gives you a split-second advantage," says the Gryffindor.

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six..." Professor Snape says dismissively. Next to Leslie, she hears Malfoy snicker, leading the girl to roll her eyes, a small huff escaping her.

The boy shoots his eyes to the left, eyeing down and smirking at Leslie. "I see the summer did nothing to kill that newfound feistiness. I almost miss the old you."

"And I missed it when you weren't speaking."

Dark brown irises roll once more to glare at silver grays, though the later holds a mischievous glint. Malfoy makes an exhale, the sound of a laugh being hidden. Leslie knows he is trying to get under her skin. Part of her feels it working, the other part truly just wants the boy to shut up. "Those Gryffindors really did a number on you. Especially that one twin—"

Before Leslie can retort, a voice comes from the front of the classroom. "If your conversations during my lecture are so important, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Greyscale, perhaps a free period would be better suited."

Eyes from all around shoot towards the pair in the back. Leslie notices Ron give her a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Professor," Leslie utters, as Malfoy was too busy smiling to himself.

The rest of Professor Snape's lecture was simply instructions on how to cast a non-verbal spell. Luckily, Leslie was already halfway to success, having learned how to perform a Shield Charm thanks to D.A. last year. However, they never learned how to cast it without using words. Leslie felt her nerves kick in even with her professor preparing them with the essential steps.

"You will now work with the person next to you. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence."

Oh, how lovely, Leslie thinks bitterly.

The back of the classroom held a wide space, wide enough for each pair to have room to practice standing up. Malfoy stood before Leslie when Professor Snape sent them off on their way. Leslie suppresses a groan when she pushes her stool back.

From behind her, she hears Harry whisper, "Good luck. If he does anything stupid..."

Leslie tosses a reassuring smile to the boy. "I'm sure I'll be fine, but thanks."

Malfoy already stands waiting with his wand out as Leslie approaches. There's a sly smirk on his face. It makes Leslie uncomfortable: does he thrive on making her queasy? "I'll go first."

"Go figure," Leslie replies wandering a few paces away. A few feet from the Slytherins, two Gryffindor boys named Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were paired to spar but only stood glaring at the blonde boy. Both boys made the assumption Malfoy was going to put Leslie in the hospital wing. Unbeknownst to them, however, the gift that allows her to know their very thoughts will aid her during the exercise, avoiding whatever the reason was behind Malfoy's smirk.

It took a matter of five minutes before Malfoy's smirk fell clean off his face. Much like the rest of the students, he had grown frustrated by the lack of progress. Leslie was gaining some improvement, but of course Hermione had seemingly mastered the skill before anyone else. Her efforts should have given Gryffindor at least 20 House Points, but all Professor Snape was interested in regarding that house was taking points away.

"Excellent progress," Snape tells the Slytherins. "But be more demanding, Greyscale. It is not your strong suit obviously, but defending yourself against Dark Wizards require it."

"Yes, thank you, Professor," Leslie responds as her professor and Malfoy share a brief moment of eye contact.

Malfoy twirls his wand and then goes still once Professor Snape moves on. "Try screaming the spell in your head. It's slowly working for me so far."

Leslie's eyebrow raises. Truthfully, the advice would have made her laugh if anyone would have given it to her. But she's stubborn, and not ready for Malfoy to earn her praise. "I didn't ask for your help."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go back to hating each other."

"I've always hated you." Her eyes narrow but it's a lie, and Malfoy knows that well.

The same sly smirk fell upon his face once more. "That's not how I remember things."

Malfoy would regret his advice a second later as he flies backwards, not yet ready to block the spell from Leslie's wand.

"Powerful, and effective. Twenty points to Slytherin," Professor Snape announces as Leslie wears the proud smirk Malfoy once had.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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wkemeup · 6 years ago

Text

The Witness (10)

series summary: After witnessing a Hydra hit and the handsome, borderline endearing cop who had become a regular at your bar takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

pairing: detective!bucky x reader

word count: 9k

warnings: little bit of angst, little bit of fluff, little bit of violence

author’s note: I almost split this one into two chapters too, but ugh idk i didn’t want to disrupt the flow of the storyline and i have zero capacity to write short fics im sorry

series masterlist // previous chapter

An hour had passed without word from the surgeons beyond the double doors at the end of the hall. The nurse Sam had been bothering finally agreed to come look at you, though when she laid eyes on the light red stains upon your hands and the knife wound along your cheek, she perked up immediately, calling for another nurse as she passed by. She had chastised Sam for not telling her the state of your condition and he all but threw a silent tantrum behind her as she spoke to you, causing you to bit on your lip to suppress a laugh.

A nurse by the name of Sharon knelt in front of you, her blonde hair curled in gentle waves over her shoulder and a sweet look in her eye as she gestured for your hands. You set them in her palms, appreciating that she hadn’t bothered to ask you to follow her to an exam room. Steve sat next to you the whole time, his knee touching yours ever so slightly, but enough to keep you grounded. Sam slumped into a chair across from you as the older nurse returned to the desk, grumbling under her breath and sending a glaring look in Sam’s direction.

Sharon reached over for a cart on Steve’s left and he helped her swing it around. From the bottom drawer she pulled out a series of white clothes and a bottle filled with a clear liquid. She sprayed some onto the wipes and offered you an encouraging smile.

“This may be a little cold but it’ll get the dried blood off your skin,” she said softly, watching you for recognition before she began to run the cloth along your arms. You flinched at first, surprised by the coolness of the damp wipe, but you settled quickly. Sharon was as gentle as she could be, pressing a little harder when a patch of dried blood didn’t want to wipe away on its own. It stuck in the hair of your arms and cracks in your knuckles.

Once she was finished, she threw the red stained rags into the disposal bin on the side of the cart. Then she pulled out a new set of bandages and began wrapping the burns on your wrist without another word. There was some kind of cooling gel underneath that made the ache in your wrists a little less noticeable. She affixed the clips on the ends of the bandage, securing them with just enough pressure to protect it while giving it room to breathe.

Then, she took a seat next to you, dragging the cart closer as she pulled out a cotton swab and dipped it into the clear bottle she had used on your arms.

“This may sting,” she warned, holding it up against your face. You nodded and you felt Steve’s hand sitting over yours. You turn your palm and let him grab your hand. You squeezed it and Sharon pressed it to the cut. It left a burning sensation behind as she cleaned the wound and you clenched your jaw. She muttered an apology under her breath as she continued to work. It was over quicker than you anticipated. Steve released your hand.

“Good news is it won’t need stitches,” Sharon smiled at you, disposing of the swab. “I’m just going to put some surgical glue on and you’ll be all set.”

The glue didn’t sting the way the clear liquid had and it was over before you had time to wince at the tingling sensation of it. When she was finished, she set the materials back on the cart and set her eyes on Sam.

“You know you’re still in trouble for running out on us,” she smirked, folding her arms over her chest. Despite her light pink scrubs and the teddy bear sticker adhered to her ID badge, she had an intimidating aurora you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of, even if it was in jest. Sam sunk further into his chair, grimacing.

“Sorry about that,” Sam apologized weakly, eyeing Steve for support who only shrugged and looked away.

“I suppose if your stitches held together in your escape, you should be fine,” Sharon conceded, though there was a laugh on the end of her words. She set a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “I know you’re waiting on news about the officers down in surgery. I’ll do my best to get an update for you.”

You exhaled, a moment of relief as you nodded. “Thank you.”

She smiled sweetly before she turned towards Sam with a teasing glare and jogged down the hall and through the double doors.

“You’ve gotta stop pissing off the nurses, Sam,” Steve laughed.

Sam shook his head, grumbling under his breath, “they started it.”

***

Sharon came back twenty minutes later. Nat was out of the OR and in the ICU until further notice, and no—you couldn’t see her just yet. Peter was still in surgery and they had successfully removed the metal chunk in his leg, though they ran into a few close calls. Plastics had taken the lead to start removing the burned skin while General closed up his leg. No end in sight for now.

Dr. Palmer was currently working on Bucky down in OR 7. Everything was going smoothly so far, but they were spending more time than expected on the stab wound in his stomach due to the serrated edges of the knife having ripped his skin and internal organs to shreds. It was apparently a miracle he survived long enough to get into the OR in the first place. You winced as Sharon told you so and she immediately bit down on her lip, having realized the way it came out. She went on to inform you that the cuts along Bucky’s left shoulder were proving difficult to stitch up. The scars it would leave behind would be unavoidable.

You nodded as she spoke, trying to breathe through the anxiety tingling in your skin.

An hour later, you met Steve’s wife, Peggy. She had come storming through the elevator doors, heels clicking on the tile flooring as she rushed to Steve. A million questions a minute rambling from behind bright red lipstick and a thick English accent, she started to direct her attention to the nurses when Steve couldn’t get the answers out fast enough. The older nurse who had become rivals with Sam was happy to update her.

After several minutes, Peggy fell down in the chair next to Sam with a huff. She blew a dark brunette curl from falling into her face. Then, her eyes fell on you and a smile so wide lit up her features. She quickly moved to the chair beside you, grinning ear to ear.

She told you how much she had been hearing about you from Steve – your name redacted until now to preserve your identity, of course – and from Bucky as well in their weekly Sunday night dinners. You smiled at that, thinking of Bucky spending his Sunday evenings with a married couple, sharing a meal, probably watching a movie and having a decent liquor for once. It was the kind of normalcy you didn’t have growing up.

“I’m so happy he found you,” Peggy concluded after a long ramble about Bucky’s apparently uneventful romantic history outside of the ‘ghastly’ woman named Dolores who had broken his heart a few years prior.

“Not sure he’d say that right about now,” you sighed, eyes glancing down towards the double doors. “Meeting me brought him a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe he needed a little more excitement in his life,” Peggy shrugged, her hand snaking into yours. Soft skin brushing gently over the dried cracks on the back of your hand. Red nail polish against paled skin.

“He lost a lot of blood. You didn’t see him, Peggy. He might not make it,” you whispered, finding yourself slumping down to lean against her shoulder. Peggy nodded, bringing your intertwined hand into her lap.

“He’s stronger than he looks... and he looks pretty strong,” she reminded you softly, an airy laugh in her voice. “He’s got something to fight for out here. If I know anything about that man, it’s that he’s about as stubborn as his best friend and he won’t let you go for anything.”

***

Sharon came by twice more with updates and you had lost track of time. The sun had risen enough to fill the waiting area with a glow of light through the windows. Sam was hiding from it beneath his jacket draped over his face as he curled up against the wall. These chairs didn’t allow for comfortable sleep, but it seemed like he was doing just fine. His light snoring was evident of that, at least.

Peggy and Steve were talking quietly with one another; everything from what was on the grocery list for the week to when they’ll find time to visit England to see her parents. Peggy led the conversations, asking the questions. She must have known that Steve needed a sense of normalcy. Even a police captain had best friends he was terrified of losing. It was nice to know he had someone looking out for him. This petite, brass, charming Englishwoman took care of him as if he weren’t twice anyone’s size and standing a foot above the rest.

The soft buzz of the tv filled the otherwise tensely silent room. A blonde news anchor dressed in a sharp red blazer sat behind a desk with several sheets of paper ahead of her, a pen twirling in her right hand. To her left was an image of the intersection where the crossfire took place, followed by Rumlow and Ward’s mugshots. Then, the screen changed to a video of Sam’s impala flipped on its roof, flames bursting from the engine. It appeared like it was shot on a cell phone from the vertical alignment and the blurred shakiness of whoever was recording it. The screen rushed between glimpses of Sam dragging Peter out from inside the burning car to Nat firing shots at the Hydra men. It switched to a scene of Bucky, Nat, and Sam slowly lowering themselves to the ground as you were held hostage, gun pressed to your temple.

The anchor came back on screen, a solemn look on her face as the small image on her left showed the front view of the hospital. You gritted your teeth and turned away.

After the news had transitioned into a cooking show and then into a morning talk show you’d never heard of, a few officers you hadn’t seen around the station had begun to straggle into the waiting room.

Detective Clint Barton, the one you had learned from Sam had arrested Rumlow and Ward, was currently sitting in the corner of the room with his feet kicked up, watching the mid-afternoon talk show on the small, grainy tv screen bolted to the wall. He was on his second bad of chips from the vending machine.

Dr. Bruce Banner, the one-four's forensic psychologist, was pacing back and forth by the windows. His messy curls bouncing with each step. Peggy had whispered to you that he and Natasha had a bit of a history, which surprised you for only a moment before you remembered that beneath her hardened exterior was one of the kindest, warmest people you knew.

Peter’s Aunt May was sitting by herself, hands in her face, for the last hour. She brushed off anyone that came near, claiming she just knew he’d get himself into this mess and she didn’t want comfort from those who got him there.

You’d learned Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, was out of state for college and his mother had broken down completely on the porch of her house when the officers arrived to inform her of his condition. She couldn’t leave her home in that state, so Steve had them track down a cousin of hers to stay with her until they had more news.

You’d met Thor and Loki, an odd pair who claimed to be brothers despite their polar opposite appearance and general demeanor in which they carried themselves. They called themselves private investigators but Sam grumbled something about them being ‘amateur Nancy Drews’ under his breath.

Even Tony Stark was standing over in the corner, talking quietly into his cellphone.

Then, a woman who demanded the attention of the entire room when she walked through the elevator doors took a seat next to you. She gave you a knowing smile before settling in. You’d later learn her name was Carol Danvers. She was a Sergeant at the one-four and despite her small frame, much like Natasha, she carried the energy of a someone twice her size. She nudged your shoulder lightly, grabbing your attention.

“Barton handed Rumlow and Ward over to me for processing,” she started, a smirk upon her lips. “Just thought you’d like to know that I roughed them up a bit in the interrogation room. Those Hydra scum will turn on one another real quick if they figure they can get one in for themselves. Idiots. Can’t believe they thought we’d actually cut them a deal.”

You laugh slightly behind pressed lips, lifting your head from Peggy’s shoulder. There was a strain in your muscle in the movement and you reached up to massage it.

“So, they’re secure where they are?” you asked apprehensively, stealing a glance back at Steve, who nodded slightly for you, indicating Carol was safe. “One of their moles can’t just let them out while we’re here?”

Carol smiled, shaking her head. “I locked up their cells myself and took all the spares with me. Plus, I’ve got a guy standing guard. Pietro Maximoff. He may be a rookie, but nothing gets past that kid. Too quick.”

You nodded, feeling slightly relieved and a bit satisfied to know Rumlow and Ward had been on the end of Carol’s bad side. She started to tell you stories from the one-four, ones where Bucky and Steve had gotten in serious heat with the previous captain, that made you smile despite the exhaustion. Your eyes glanced down at the double doors a little less often now that she was around.

***

A light tap on your shoulder woke you carefully. You lift your head to find you had fallen asleep on Peggy’s lap. Her hands were running softly through your hair and she offered you a smile as she gestured across the room. You lift your head from her thigh, combing self-consciously through your hair with your fingers as your eyes narrowed on a woman emerging through the double doors at the end of the hall.

Light teal scrubs and auburn hair drawn back away from her face in a ponytail. She discarded her plastic gloves at the edge of the door and you tried to ignore the blood that covered the blue material. She pushed through the doors, eyes scanning the room until she landed on Steve.

“Captain Rogers. You’re Detective Barnes’ emergency contact, is that right?” she asked, weaving through the dozens of officers and members of the one-four who had come to sit in wait for their colleagues.

Steve stood quickly, wiping his hands on his slacks. “Dr. Palmer?”

She nodded. “Detective Barnes lost quite a lot of blood and it was a challenge to piece together his internal wiring from the intrusive trauma, but we managed. He’ll be in the ICU for a while, but he’s tough. I expect he’ll make a full recovery.”

Peggy squeezed your hand and you nearly burst into tears.

“He’ll have significant scarring,” Dr. Palmer went on to add. “There wasn’t much we could do for that I’m afraid.”

“When can we see him?” Steve asked after considering what she said.

Dr. Palmer looked around the room. “While I’m sure he appreciates the turnout, I’m afraid we can only allow immediate family right now. He’s not stable enough for much else.”

Your heart dropped. Steve glanced down at you, unsure of what to say.

“We are his family,” Steve pressed, shaking his head, at a loss. Dr. Palmer pressed her lips together into a thin line. The regret was evident on her face.

“Ms. Barnes?”

Your eyes snapped up to find Sharon jogging in from behind the double doors. She smiled softly at you, sending you a wink before she came up to stand next to Dr. Palmer.

“I can take Ms. Barnes back to see her husband, now,” Sharon offered.

“Oh, I didn’t realize Detective Barnes was married. I must have missed that in the chart,” Dr. Palmer said, nodding her head. The knowing look in her eyes made you wonder if she knew exactly what Sharon was doing. She smiled at you then and you knew she did.

“He’s still under the anesthesia but he should wake soon,” Dr. Palmer said, directly to you now. “I’ll let Sharon walk you back. Once he’s stable enough, I’ll be sure to let your crew know. We’ll have to sort out a shift system. Don’t want to overwhelm the poor man.”

Steve smiled at that, sitting back into the chair as Peggy ushered you to your feet. She urged you on, waving at you to follow Sharon, but your legs felt like jelly. You clenched your jaw, staring down at the double doors.

Sharon offered you her arm for support and you took it graciously. She led you through the mass of officers and they backed slowly to the sides, allowing a passage through. Once the double doors closed behind you, you glanced over your shoulder to see Steve giving you a slight nod, half of an encouraging smile lifting his cheeks. You exhaled and continued on.

“Now, I want to prepare you,” Sharon began and you could already feel your stomach dropping. “The bruising is darker and more spread out than when he came in, so don’t be alarmed. He’ll have some bandaging on his right hand, his left shoulder, and around his waist. Someone will be by to change those once every few hours. We’ve already removed the respiratory tube from surgery, so don’t worry about having to see that, alright?”

You nodded, trying to take in her words the best you could. Then, she pulled you to a stop outside room 1189. Bucky’s name was scribbled in messy handwriting on the whiteboard underneath. Someone had thought to write “NYPD” just below his name. Somehow, it brought you comfort.

“I’ll work on getting someone in to see Detective Romanoff as well,” Sharon added. “She’ll be waking soon and our staff hates this ‘family only’ rule just as much as you all do.”

She smiled at you, nudging your shoulder. A semblance of a smile pulled at your lips, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. She reached forward and turned the knob to Bucky’s room, stepping aside to give you the space you needed and disappearing back down the hall.

Slowly, you stepped inside the room. It was brighter than you imagined, light seeping in from the massive windows giving view to the towers across the street. White walls, beige tile floors, the faint smell of fresh sheets and sterilized surfaces. The soft beeping of a machine with a red line ticking up and down and it ran across the screen. Wires connecting down from the monitor to the bed where Bucky laid.

Yours hands reached up to cover your mouth as you finally took him in. Stumbling over to the chair by his bedside, you collapsed into it, shaking hands reaching to grab his. A thick plastic clasp sat over his pointer finger, wires connecting it to the monitor above you. You brought his hand to your lips and kissed his still broken knuckles.

Bandages covered his left shoulder, one wrapped around his stomach, another encasing his hand furthest from you. Broken pieces tied together with gauze and thread.

Your cheeks were wet with tears as you glanced over at his face. His lip was busted down the middle. Blue and purple covered more of his skin than not. Swollen eyelid and cheekbone, angry blue veins protruding to the surface. You tried to imagine he was only asleep, that is wasn’t just the anesthesia keeping him sedated, but you knew better than this. You’d seen the peaceful way he lied on his bed in the early hours of the morning, the almost boyish look in his face as he scrunched his nose in his sleep, the endearing mess of bedhead he’d wake up to. It wasn’t the same.

Exhausted, you leaned forward until your forehead rested against the bed. It was so soft, almost like a pillow and you could feel yourself giving into it. You wrapped your arms under your head, hunching over the bed as you dragged the chair closer with a hook of your foot. Gripped Bucky’s hand in yours, you let yourself find rest.

What felt like only seconds later, but had likely been almost an hour, you hummed contently as a tender pressure ran over your scalp, running through your hair, and lulling you back to sleep. You nuzzled in closer, shiftily slight to lean into the feeling. As raspy chuckle fell on your ears and you sprang up, eyes wide only, heart pounding, only to be met with the most beautiful shades of blue you’d ever seen.

You froze completely, just staring at him, petrified that if you even blinked, he’d disappear. Having noticed the fear etched in your features, he offered you a sad smile. You could practically feel him scanning you for further injury, eyes falling over the cut on your cheek for a moment too long. He licked at his lips when he met your eyes again.

“Hiya, doll,” he exhaled, his voice coming out in only a whisper but certainly the loveliest sound you’d ever heard. He started to cough abruptly and you lunged for the water at his bedside, pouring a glass for him and holding it up to his lips. He took a small sip, nodded that he was finished, and you pulled it away.

He sighed, glancing around the room. “I hope us being here means Hydra didn’t win this round.”

“Rumlow and Ward were arrested when they showed up at the bar,” you confirmed quickly and his eyes narrowed quizzically. You continued, “Steve has the chip from my necklace, too.”

Bucky shook his head, leaning back against the pillow. “It’s too easy.”

A humorless laugh escaped you. “That’s what I said. Sam thinks I should work on accepting good things when they come.”

“Yeah, well, Sam’s too optimistic for his own good,” Bucky grumbled, though he raised a genuine smile for you despite the crack in his lips. It made your heart flutter. He sighed, trying to adjust himself on the bed but winced at the effort. You rushed forward to help him, though you found your hands hovering over him, almost afraid to touch him. If he noticed your hesitancy, he didn’t say anything.

Once he settled, he let out a heavy exhale. His eyes fell on you as you pulled his hand back to your lap, drawing patterns in his palm. Several moments of comfortable silence passed, save for your soft humming. He watched you carefully, almost like he was studying you, trying to memorize you, before he spoke again.

“Are you okay, doll?” Bucky asked cautiously and you could practically hear the guilt beginning to build in his voice.

“We’re here and they’re not,” you shrugged, pulling to press a kiss to the back of his hand. You set your intertwined hands into your lap and slowly met his eye. “That’s all that matters right now.”

He didn’t seem convinced, his gaze caught on the scar running over your cheekbone. “Y/n, I’m so--”

“Don’t do this again, please,” you sighed. When his eyes fell away from you, you reached forward to brush his hair from his eyes, tracing your fingers carefully along the scruff of his beard. He leaned into it. “I’m okay. You’re okay. We’ll deal with the trauma later, alright?”

Bucky chuckled softly at that though when a silence took over again, it took a minute before he looked up at you nervously. “So, there’s a later, huh? Now that this is over?”

The way he asked you, trying to cover his fretfulness through the banter in his voice, made your heart ache. He wasn’t asking to tease you. He was sincere in his uncertainty and that, above all else, hurt more than anything.

“Did you think I’d leave once Hydra was no longer a threat to my life?” you asked, watching the way his eyes flickered down to your intertwined hands, then to the door.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Bucky shrugged shyly. “Adrenaline can be a hell of a drug. Not to mention, you’re pretty hard to read, sweetheart.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” you replied quickly, kissing his hand. You brushed his knuckles over your cheek and his opened his palm to rest against the side of your face. You held it there, leaning into him as his thumb traced delicately under the angry red scar.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bucky,” you reminded him, more serious this time as you said it. You needed him to know, to understand that there wasn’t a single thing on this Earth that could take you from him now. Bucky nodded, a smile curving at the ends of his lips as he sighed, seemingly content to just watch you.

You kissed the inside of his palm, drawing his hand from your face and pulling it to sit in your lap again. You flashed him a smirk and he raised an eyebrow playfully.

“I suppose you should get used to your shitty bourbon, Barnes.”

He let out a laugh-- a genuine, boisterous laugh-- and the sound alone made your heart swell. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to that. You hoped you never did.

***

With the help of Sharon, Bucky’s room had become a revolving door of visitors. You kept his hand woven in your own as you sat next to his bed side. He had requested to see Clint and Carol first, after you informed him that they were the last ones to have contact with Rumlow and Ward since the arrest. He grilled them for almost an hour before he finally took a breath and relaxed, accepting that maybe they’d finally won a round against Hydra for once.

Clint, you found, was somehow more of a sarcastic shit than Sam was, and you grew a liking to him quickly. Carol took Bucky’s questions in stride, replying in quick, short responses, just enough to get to the point. She barely even batted an eye.

Then came a steady stream of the officers you’d hadn’t met before. Men and women in blue uniform, some from the one-four, others from different precincts over the city. It seemed the NYPD showed up for one of its own regardless of district. They only stayed to wish him well or bring by flowers to sit on the windowsill. Tight lipped smiles and nervous glances in your direction and then they were out the door.

Almost two hours later when Steve and Peggy finally walked through the door, hand in hand, you slumped back against the side of Bucky’s bed in relief. Peggy scurried over quickly to give a light hug to Bucky and an aired kiss to his cheek before she pulled up a chair next to you. Steve hung behind in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he looked Bucky over. He shook his head, pursing his lips into a frown.

“You gotta learn to stay out of trouble, punk,” Steve chuckled under his breath.

“Only if you do, jerk.” Bucky smirked, eyes on his oldest friend until he walked the room to reach out to shake his hand. Steve was cautious as he gripped Bucky’s hand and Bucky must have noticed it because with one hard yank, he pulled Steve down into a hug. A wince passed over his face as he patted Steve’s back, likely from the heavy weight of the captain, but he didn’t complain. Steve laughed, pulling himself up and moving to lean against the wall.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Steve teased, the relief on his face as evident as you felt.

“Is someone making fun of Barnes? I want in,” Sam’s voice called from a few paces beyond the door, but he wasn’t the next face you saw come through the frame.

“You’re all insufferable. Just so you know,” Nat rolled her eyes, leaning on the armrest of the wheelchair Sam was pushing. Her leg was propped up, held at a ninety-degree angle, with heavy bandages and splints holding it in place. Other than that, you never would have known she had just come out of surgery; gorgeous without even an ounce of makeup and soft fiery hair that never seemed out of place.

She winked at you as Sam locked the wheels on her chair next to Peggy. You reached over her and gripped her hand. You wanted to tell her you were sorry she ended up in the crosshairs of a Hydra stand off for you and that you were thankful she was alive. You wanted her to know that even when this was over, you still wanted to be friends. You hoped she felt the same way. Natasha had the uncanny ability to read minds with a single look. She nodded, a knowing smile on her lips, understanding perfectly.

“Gang’s all here,” Bucky chuckled to himself, squeezing your hand. A silence fell over the room and you lowered your head. You could feel Bucky eyeing the room and no one dared to speak. “What?”

“Parker’s still in surgery,” Sam finally said. Bucky’s lips parted in shock. “He got the worst of the explosion. Burned pretty bad and his leg got impaled with a piece of the car door. He’s got a long road ahead of him, but I hear the doc’s optimistic about his recovery.”

Bucky nodded and you could feel his heartrate picking up beneath his pulse point. “He’s just a kid. We never should have let him get involved with this.”

“Parker is a fully trained officer,” Steve said, serious enough tone in his voice to remind you that he was still the captain of this precinct. “He looks young and he’s got the energy of someone half his age, but he’s qualified and capable of doing his job; a job he volunteered for, by the way. You didn’t force him into this. He knew exactly what he was signing up for.”

Steve reached out to put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder but withdrew quickly when his fingers brushed over the series of bandages. Steve swallowed, folding his arms over his chest. Bucky let out a heavy sigh, pressing his lips to a thin line. He stole a glance at you, the tension falling from his face. He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed it.

***

As the hours passed by and the sun began to fall over the city line, the small, white hospital room echoed the sounds of laughter down the hallways and hushed snickering under breaths when the older nurse from the front desk hushed the room. No one showed any signs of leaving, despite the visiting hours closing in the next hour.

Sam had taken a seat at the end of Bucky’s bed, rolling his eyes when Bucky tried to swat him away and saying something like ‘I got shot for you, move the hell over’. Nat was sitting comfortably in her wheelchair, resting one foot on the edge of the bed as she listened intently to Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering, a sly comment said under her breath every once in a while that always got you laughing before anyone knew what was happening. Steve had taken a seat on the windowsill, his feet still touching the ground and you caught him watching Peggy with the kind of gentle bewonder you often saw in Bucky’s eyes.

“Sam, that’s the third time I’ve heard your stomach growl,” Nat observed in a flat toned comment, raising in eyebrow when his hand began to pat at his stomach.

“Damn, I don’t even remember the last time I ate,” Sam said and the grumble of his stomach rang out again.

“I’ll go get some stuff from the vending machine,” you offered, rising quickly from your chair. Bucky squeezed your hand as you tried to pull away. You glanced back at him and the apprehension on his features was enough to tug at your heart.

“Let Sam go,” Bucky urged and Sam narrowed his eyes as if staring darts.

“Sam’s got a stab wound in his forearm and a bullet in his shoulder,” you teased light-heatedly.

“Ok, what about Steve?”

“Sure, I can go,” Steve agreed, jumping off from the window ledge.

“Guys, stop,” you laughed. “I can handle it myself. Just relax. I’ll be back in five.”

You sent Steve a playful glare when he didn’t back down and he eventually sat back on the ledge. Bucky sighed and you could see the concern behind his eyes. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling him instantly relax against you as your hand ran gently over the back of the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

“Five minutes,” you reminded him again. He nodded slowly, though it looked like the very idea of being away from you for even a moment was agonizing.

You squeezed your way past Peggy’s chair and around Nat’s leg propped up the bed. As you turned down the hall, you could still hear Sam’s boisterous laughter until you passed through the double doors.

The older nurse was standing at the front desk, the corded phone sitting between her ear and shoulder as she scribbled on a notebook, nodding her head and rolling her eyes with each ‘uh-huh.’

As you approached the vending machine in the far corner of the room, she slammed the phone on the receiver and quickly stormed to the back room. You chuckled under your breath, shaking you head. You pulled a few tens from your pocket and eyed up your choices for dinner. Doritos, cheese crackers, potato chips, trail mix, chocolate bars, Cheetos. Sounded good enough to you.

“Not the most nutritious of meals, don’t you think?” a man’s voice said from behind, startling you enough to whip around and clutch at your heart, hand searching instinctively for the necklace you no longer wore. When you saw a black suit-jacket affixed with gold buttons and a shiny NYPD badge with a series of colorful badges pinned on his left breast pocket, you began to relax.

“You scared me,” you exhaled, laughing to yourself.

“My apologies ma’am,” he said, offering you a pleasant smile as he removed his rounded glassed, wiping them on the edge of his jacket before he set them against the bridge of his nose. His sandy blonde hair swept over to the left in short wisps. Over his shoulder an officer you didn’t recognized emerged from the elevators.

“Commissioner Pierce,” the officer greeted, removing his cap in a nod before moving to stand by the double doors. Something about the way he stood guard, his back to the doors, facing you, made you feel uneasy. If he was guarding the commissioner, shouldn’t he be facing potential entry points?

The man in the suit jacket, Commissioner Pierce, pressed out a smile at you as you turned back to the vending machine. Something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones. He cleared his throat behind you and you clenched your jaw, turning to face him again.

“Actually, my dear,” he began and the tone in his voice made you shiver, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking a few moments to speak with me about the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been made aware that you haven’t given a statement yet and I’d like to make sure we have it on the books before your memory becomes… unreliable.”

“That’s a little below a commissioner's pay grade, isn’t it?” you asked slowly, careful to keep your voice light as not to cause suspicion. You eyed the officer standing at the double doors. His hand held steady on the firearm attached to his hip.

Pierce chuckled to himself, head bowing for a moment before he met your eye again. “I take initiative on the ground every once in a while. Keeps me humble. Especially in cases such as yours. With one of our own feeding information to Hydra, we must stay vigilant. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course,” you forced out a smile, clenching you jaw to hide the influx in your heart rate. You turned back to the machine, watching Pierce’s reflection in the glass. “I’ll be sure to let one of the officers know as soon as I bring back some food. They’re expecting me back any minute.”

As you slid the first bill into the machine, you felt a sharp, solid pressure jab into your lower back. Eyes closed as you exhaled; some kind of twisted acceptance washing over you. Pierce leaned in close enough to feel his breath on your ear.

“I tried to make this easy for you, Y/n,” he tsked, pushing the barrel of the gun hard enough into your side to elicit a wince. You took a deep breath, ready to scream and damn the consequences when Pierce clamped a hand over your mouth. “If you make a single sound, I’ll have of the nurses on my payroll shoot up your precious detective with Fentanyl.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat. From behind the desk, a nurse you didn’t recognize was pulling a syringe from the drawer. She eyed you with a wicked kind of smirk before she walked over to the double doors, standing next to the officer as if on guard, awaiting orders. Pierce slowly lowered his hand.

“Good girl,” he praised against your ear and you recoiled away from his touch. He chuckled under his breath at your reaction, clearly amused. He then nodded for the officer at the door to follow as he put a hand on your shoulder, gripping hard enough to draw bruising. He led you towards the elevator doors where the officer had already tapped the now illuminated arrow pointing to the floor.

You glanced down the window through the double doors after the nurse retreated back to her station, twirling the syringe in her hand. The hall beyond the doors was entirely empty. Steve was the only armed officer without a major injury and there was no way you’d be able to call for him before Pierce could get a fatal bullet in you and that nurse could dose Bucky amongst the chaos.

This was it.

You should have known better than to trust things would end so easily for you. Your life had never bene easy so why would this? The moment it crossed your mind you might actually have a happy ending to this nightmare of a chapter in your life, you should have known it was too good to be true. You’d gained too many friends, learned to find a family again amongst the late nights at the bar and 24/7 guard duty. And Bucky ---

Bucky was too kind, too loving and sweet and reassuring. He treated you with a gentle kind of sincerity you hadn’t known in years and a constant unbreakable need to keep you safe from harm. You’d let yourself grow to love him in a way you’d never loved another person. In such a short period of time, you’d happily given a piece of your heart away with the assured trust that he’d handle it with care.

You realized suddenly you already said your last goodbye to Bucky, to the makeshift family at the one-four who adopted you so willingly. You’d already poured his last drink, had your last walk through the city in the early hours of the morning, shrugged off his last flirty comment that got your heart racing, and seen his last smile. You’d already kissed him for the last time, already squeezed his hand for the last time, touched him for the last time, told him you --

Well, you’d only told him you loved him once, hadn’t you? It felt like centuries ago. Did he still know? Would he still know once this was over?

You weren’t sure.

You supposed you’d never find out.

The elevator dinged and the metal doors parted. Pierce shoved you inside with the brunt of the gun and you stumbled into the small space. He pressed the button for the ground floor as the officer stood on your other side, hand still on his weapon as if he expected to use it.

A lifetime seemed to pass by as the red LED numbers at the top of the wall counted down. Your focus blurred on the silver doors, studying the ticks and scratches amongst the metal as you tried to avoid your own reflection.

When the doors slid open, Pierce shoved you forward into what looked like the parking garage under the hospital.

“Get her in the car,” Pierce ordered the officer, sliding his gun back into the waist of his suit pants. The officer grabbed a tight hold of your arm, enough to hurt as he yanked you towards him.

There was no use fighting him. You weren’t physically strong enough to overpower him, especially not with a gun in his hand. Pierce gestured toward a black car sitting just a few spaces away. You nearly tripped over a stray rock in the pavement and the officer cursed at you under harsh breaths, raising his hand as if to strike you when --

“Let her go!”

The officer hulled you to his chest, your back slamming roughly against him as the gun pressed to your side. God, this was familiar, wasn’t it?

Steve stood by the exit to the stairs, panting heavily as he aimed his weapon at Pierce. Pierce slowly turned around, a laugh on his tongue, almost as if he was expecting this.

“I know who you really work for, Pierce!” Steve shouted his voice echoing through the garage. “I know where your allegiance lies. I’ve seen the file. It’s over! Turn yourself in while you can!”

“Frankly, Rogers, I’m a little surprised it took you this long,” Pierce replied smugly, not even bothering to deny it. Steve’s eye glanced at you, flickering over for only a moment, just long enough to catch your nod, signaling that you were okay, before turned his attention back to Pierce.

“Let Y/n go and maybe we can arrange a deal,” Steve bargained. An angry tension carried in his tone and you wondered if he was sincere in his words. The sharp narrowing of his eyes suggested otherwise.

“I don’t want your deal, Rogers,” Pierce spat, swatting his hand in the air at Steve. “You know nothing of Hydra if you think we care for anything but the bigger picture. I am willing to sacrifice my life for the cause. Are you?” He glanced over towards you, a smirk on his face as he turned back to Steve. “Is she?”

“Ward and Rumlow turned on each other pretty easy.”

“They were henchmen at best,” Pierce dismissed, rolling his eyes. He was pacing freely, walking casually as if he wasn’t in the middle of a hostage situation.

“You have nothing!” Steve shouted. “The Hydra informant list was sent to the station hours ago. It’s over, Pierce. You have no reason to take her.”

“There’s still revenge, isn’t there?” Pierce shrugged, whipping out his gun in one smooth movement and aiming it in your direction. There wasn’t enough time to close your eyes before a loud ringing echoed through the garage, but it wasn’t any of the weapons’ discharge.

You looked towards the source of the noise to find the stairwell door slammed against the adjacent wall and a fuming Bucky Barnes racing through the frame, clad only in the light grey sweatpants Peggy had brought for him, bare feet, and bandages covering most of his torso. Sam rushed in behind him.

Bucky was panting heavily as he exchanged a look with Steve who only shot him a warning glare in return. He faltered slightly in his stance and Sam quickly ushered himself under Bucky’s good arm, keeping him steady.

“Great,” Pierce mumbled. “Now that everyone’s here…”

Pierce continued talking but you could hear much of it. It was clear none of the three men standing just fifty feet away from you were either as they talked amongst themselves quickly, eyeing one another up between glances back to Pierce. Pierce was pacing, monologuing about the ‘glory of Hydra’ when you notice Bucky gesturing for Steve’s gun. Steve shook his head, retuning his gaze to Pierce, the barrel of his gun swaying back and forth as the man paced.

Bucky gritted his teeth, his eyes falling on you. There was a determination behind them you recognized from the intersection the last time a Hydra agent held a gun to you, though you could tell with a single glance that he wasn’t getting on his knees. Not again.

He held your eye, mouthing something to you that looked a little like ‘it’s gonna be okay.’ You scanned over at Pierce who was still managing to talk without any prompting. The officer holding you seemed to be getting a little bored with his commissioner’s speech because his grip slowly started to loosen.

Then, all at once, Bucky snaked his good hand around Sam’s waist and pulled the gun from the holster, barrel aimed directly at you. Pierce froze, shouting something you couldn’t quite understand as a deafening shot rang out in your ears. You yelped and a wet substance splattered over the side of your face, soaking into your hair. The officer fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Another shot echoed through the garage and Pierce let out a shriek, his gun falling from his hand as he gripped at the now bloody surface of his palm. You looked over to Steve, who was holstering his weapon, pleased with his aim.

Bucky was sprinting towards you; Sam close behind. Their footsteps were muffled by the deafening ringing in your ears. You glanced down at the officer, his eyes wide, unstaring, as a bullet sat wedged between his eyes. Without thinking much of it, you bent down, and picked up the handgun that he had held against you. It was warm to the touch.

“Y/n,” Bucky panted, reaching quickly to gather you in his arms when you abruptly snapped your attention to Pierce, aiming the gun at his chest. Pierce held his hands up in surrender, though he kept them clasped together, blood dripping down his forearms from the bullet that had ripped through his palm.

“Get on your knees,” you growled, a snarl twitching at your upper lip. Pierce’s eyes fell on Bucky, then Steve as he ran up to stand next to you, almost as if he was begging them for interference. It riled up a kind of anger in you too difficult to control.

“Don’t look at them! Look at me!”

Pierce’s gaze snapped back to you in an instant.

“Y/n,” Bucky’s voice called softly behind you. “Doll, please, give me the gun. You don’t wanna do this.”

“No. I do,” you nodded your head frantically, tears welling in your eyes. “He’s behind all of this! He gave the order for Charlie’s death. He sicked Rumlow on us. He’s the reason Sam and Nat were shot and you were tortured for information I didn’t even know existed! Peter’s fighting for his life because of this asshole! He deserves to die!”

Pierce winced as you stepped closer. The sharp click of the safety as it unlocked was thunderous.

“I know,” Bucky admitted, a hesitancy behind his voice. “You’re right, but please, not by your hand. It’s not something you come back from. Doll, I’m begging you. Don’t let him take anything else from you.”

You clenched at your jaw, willing yourself to not cry as you stared down this man. He wasn’t as powerful as he made himself to be when he was staring down the end of a gun. He was a weak, pathetic, feeble man and he was at your mercy alone. You met his eye, providing nothing for him but the cool numbness he had forced onto you and then, you fired.

Two shots.

One at each knee cap.

Pierce cried out, dropping to the ground and rolling onto his side. The garage echoed with his pained shouts, but you couldn’t hear much of it beyond the ringing in your ears from the discharge of the gun. You stepped backwards, bumping into Bucky’s chest.

His hands brushed over your arms, holding you steady. When you didn’t flinch at the touch, he skimmed his hand down to yours and gingerly pulled the gun from your hand, passing it off to Sam. You let it go willingly. Steve had meanwhile rushed forward and yanked Pierce’s hands behind his back, cuffing him, before he pulled out his phone to call for reinforcements.

You could vaguely make out Bucky calling your name softly but you couldn’t seem to bring your focus away from Pierce. This man, this insignificant man, who hadn’t even existed in your life less than twenty minutes ago had spent the last few months upending your entire world. From behind the shadows, he stood, watching, waiting, for the prime opportunity.

Dark red pooled around the concrete around him and he was complaining to Steve that he needed a doctor. Steve grunted, rolling his eyes, and told him something you can only assume was ‘you’ll live.’

“Sweetheart,” Bucky’s voiced ached, his hand tracing over the line of your jaw. “Please, I need you to look at me.”

You blinked a few times in a row. When did he move in front of you? He was watching you with those careful blue eyes of his, drawing and scanning over every ounce of your face in hopes to find some sort of sign that you were in there somewhere. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. You looked down, focus caught on the red stain growing upon the thick bandage wrapped at his waist.

“You tore your stitches,” you commented meekly, eyes finally reaching up to his. A sigh of relief pushed up the corners of Bucky’s lips and he nodded, glancing at the stain himself.

“Wasn’t gonna let some Hydra asshole take my girl again,” Bucky shrugged, his thumb brushing under the scar on your cheek. You leaned subconsciously into the touch and he smiled sweetly at you. “The second Steve took off runnin’, you should have seen the trail of nurses behind me after I ripped out my heart monitor and the IV drip. It’s a good thing my legs still work, huh?”

“’Good thing’, my ass,” Sam grumbled behind him, shaking his head as he holstered the weapon Bucky had confiscated in the chaos.

You chuckled under your breath as Bucky shot Sam a glare over his shoulder. You tiled your face slightly, just enough to kiss the inside of his palm. He turned back to you upon the feeling.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” you asked carefully, glancing over at Pierce for a moment before returning to Bucky. He nodded, pulling you into his arms. The gentle touch of his lips pressed against your forehead as you wrapped your arms tight around his waist. He held onto you like you were his only lifeline.

“Yeah, doll,” he sighed, his breath warm over the crown of your head. “It’s over.”

He didn’t let go of you even as the siren’s wailed throughout the garage and the blue and red lighting illuminated the dingy underground lot. You stole a glance over at Pierce, ear pressed to Bucky’s chest and listening intently to the sound of his heart beat to keep you grounded, as Steve ushered him into the back of the police car. The door slammed behind him and a wave of relief washed over you.

Once Steve jumped in the driver’s seat to escort Pierce and the line of four other cars back to the station, the garage had fallen silent.

“So, now that I have a moment with you alone,” Bucky smirked, pulling back a moment to get a better look at you.

“Oh God, please spare me,” Sam grunted from a few paces behind Bucky’s shoulder and your cheeks flushed red. He was leaning against a car that clearly didn’t belong to him, good arm folded over his chest as he shook his head. “You just tore open that nasty stab wound the good doc spent hours piecing back together. If you drop dead because you bled out in some disgusting parking lot for a kiss, I will lose my damn mind. Need I remind you, I got shot for your sorry ass.”

Bucky was staring at you the whole time Sam spoke, biting on his lip to keep himself from laughing, though the subtle shake in his shoulders was enough to alert Sam.

“Fine!” Sam snorted, “You got five minutes before I sent the brigade after you. It better be one hell of a kiss, Barnes!”

Sam’s heavy footsteps echoed in the garage as he made his way to the elevator. You were watching him wait rather impatiently for the doors to open when you felt Bucky’s fingers under your jaw drawing your attention back to him. He set his both his hands against your cheeks and you could feel the soft bandage wrapped around his palm where the knife had pierced through. He exhaled, big blue eyes staring down at you as his lips curved ever so slightly.

“It will be.”

epilogue

tags 🐣: @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @lumar014 / @alohafromhell1 / @bucksandroses / @teardropcup / @beautiful-aravis / @me-chi / @somewereinthegalaxi / @marvelfansworld / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @yourwonderbelle / @fairislesheets / @brokeinflight / @verygraphicink / @lollipopdomination / @emotionallysalty / @forsaken-letters / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @ashlieadelia / @kasimagines / @ladymelissastark/ @panic-naran / @pinkisokay / @jsmith509 / @hennessy0274-blog / @littlemsrantsalot / @bucky-rrogers / @the-wayward-robot

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #the witness

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forcedsense · 4 years ago

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PUBLIC PIECE: THE BILLIONAIRE RETURNS

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 001 : THE OUTSIDE. (What most others know)

NAME : Bruce Thomas Wayne EYE COLOUR : Brown HAIR STYLE / COLOUR : Dark brown, nearly black. Oftentimes can be caught messier than any billionaire should. Though, he puts himself together during his events. Slicked back, well kept. Even when we catch him entering Wayne Enterprises, he seems well put together. Yet, we still have the chance to catch him without the glitz and glamor, the mess on top of his head when he thinks nobody can see. HEIGHT : 6′1″ CLOTHING STYLE : Rarely do we catch him outside of suits. If not a suit jacket and dress shirt, he’ll be found still in suit trousers. A man of his status, it’s understandable he’d prefer to remain professional in his appearances. Even when a snap is caught whilst he’s undressing at his window, the times we catch his hair falling past his eyes, we see him wearing his dress trousers and shoes. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE : Many women point out his magnificent jawline, and the man certainly gained a great deal of muscle mass during his time abroad. Many wonder what his routine is, but when interviewed he’ll merely claim it’s the diet his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, keeps him on. We bet working out is how he unwinds, when not in the company of women.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 002 : THE INSIDE. (What we’ve learned from our interview)

FEARS : He’s stated his fears lie in that of Gotham going too far down into the criminal syndicate, or the Earth being lost due to climate change and a lack of good leadership. Thus, he’s claimed his company is taking on an even greener approach than they had previously, including new solar-based features to help disband the need for fossil fuels. We’ve once heard stories of something that happened when he was a child, and fell into a cave, but never have we gotten the whole story. Many believe the memory of that night, all those years ago, could still cause nightmares to rise. Though, most of our interviewers are too afraid to ask him about it. GUILTY PLEASURE : We’ve spotted him with six different women already since his return to Gotham City. At first, it was believed the Wayne legacy was looking to expand, however now we believe he simply has a taste for beautiful women. PET PEEVE : We know he despises those who believe they are above others, including those in the local government who choose inflicting pain upon the poor over offering aid. Many of us question if his motives are true, or if he is merely trying to make the less fortunate look up to him as well as the rich do. From what we’ve seen, however, many other wealthy folks in Gotham don’t have Wayne’s best intentions in line where they place their money. AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE : It’s clear he wants to help fix the world in any way he can, and we certainly hope his plans are as well placed as he claims his intentions are.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 003 : THOUGHTS. (An interview with the billionaire)

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP : “ Placing as much of myself and my resources into improving Gotham as I can. “ WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST : " The world is caving in on itself day after day. If everyone were to pitch in, although it could help, it won’t do what just the worlds one percent richest individuals could do it they put their money where their mouth was. That’s what I try to focus on now that I am in charge of Wayne Enterprises.” WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED : " What my next interview will be, ensuring I make it on time. Try to be civil if I can’t. “ WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS : " I like to try to be modest. I realize how ironic it is given my position, but I do want what’s best for the world, not just Gotham’s elite. “

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 004 : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES : " Single. Hard to be as intimate in a group setting. “ TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED : “ ... Respected, just because that respect was earned, and I don’t want to let anybody down. “ [ NOTE: We noticed he took a fair bit of time to answer this question. Leads us here at Gotham News to question: Has he known what love was since his parents? ] BEAUTY OR BRAINS : " I tend to enjoy a woman with a bit of both. But, intellectual conversations are more enjoyable. “ DOGS OR CATS : " I haven’t exactly had the time for pets, though when I was younger my mother had a Great Dane. He was named Tito, and he tried to protect me a great deal as a child. Cats, I don’t mind, though they tend to be better at taking than sharing with others from my experience. “

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 005 : DO THEY …

LIE : " I prefer honesty wherever possible. “ [ NOTE: Based upon how he felt when we asked about love v. respect, we have to assume he may not be entirely honest. ] BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES : " I believe in my work. That’s all anyone can really do these days. I believe in helping others, and ensuring the people of the world will have a better tomorrow in any way that I can. “ [NOTE: We noticed after the interview, he avoided answering the question. ] BELIEVE IN LOVE : " Love of home, love of country, of course I do. My parents love is what brought me into the world. If I ever had a chance to experience what they had, I could only be so lucky. “ WANT SOMEONE : " At the moment, I just want everyone to find happiness in themselves. “

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 006 : HAVE THEY EVER …

BEEN ON STAGE : We’ve seen him on stage multiple times for his events, even in the few short weeks he’s been back. DONE DRUGS : Not on record. He’s rich, so many of us here assume he has, but he denied it. CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN : Based on his income, we believe Bruce Wayne has never had to change anything about himself for others. Personally, he wouldn’t respond to the question.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 007 : FAVOURITES.

FAVOURITE COLOUR : He seems to have an affinity for midnight blue. FAVOURITE ANIMAL : Unknown, but based off his answers when we asked him how he felt about the mysterious vigilante who’s recently appeared, we can deduce that he seems to hate bats. FAVOURITE BOOK : Unknown, he claims it was one that belonged to his mother, that he’s long forgotten the name of. FAVOURITE GAME : Has claimed he doesn’t have much time for games.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 008 : AGE.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE : April 17th HOW OLD WILL THEY BE : [REDACTED]

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 009 : FINISH THE SENTENCE .

I LOVE : " Gotham. “ I FEEL : “ Passionate. “ I HIDE : " Little. “ I MISS : " ...” I WISH : " Evil could be put to an end.”

𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙴𝙳 : @banschivs && @jokethur :*

TAGGING: you!

#A. We've always been criminals nothing's changed.

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darthlorddiamond · 5 years ago

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New Hope

This is the eighth episode of the Black Diamond story, if you want to read the previous episode or follow the next ones you can check my Masterlist.

Summary: After Egil's death, rumors of a new threat begin to spread throughout Parnassos, forcing Keldo and Balder to take action on it. Meanwhile, Diamond and Phasma's relationship continues to degenerate.

Words: 3,605

Reading Time: 15 min

Category: Bio

Warnings: Smut (Oral Sex Receive, Fingering, Vaginal Penetration).

Note: I really do apologize for my redaction, English is my third language, so I try to write the best I can.

__________________

New Hope

After Egil's death, things in the clan changed a lot. Porr argued that his motives for murdering him were because Egil was condemning everyone due to his lack of leadership and that eventually our deal with the Claw Clan would be damaged by his weakness. All the clan members agreed to send him into exile, but Keldo and Phasma disagreed, so it was decided that Porr would enter combat to ensure his stay in the clan.

It was Phasma who beat him in battle and Porr had no choice but to remain in the clan under her command.

On the other hand, Keldo positioned himself as our leader and patriarch, Ylva, who was our matriarch, chose to give up her place and give way to the younger generation to take the areas of key importance. Gosta and Phasma began to fight to see who would take her place, while I chose to stay out of all these events. I didn´t care who took charge, who made the decisions, although, on the other hand, Keldo wanted me to take Ylva´s throne.

Egil's death, without a doubt, was a tragic incident for everyone, especially for me. At all times I felt that the fact that he was no longer with us was my fault, my heart was completely broken, I no longer wanted to remain with anyone, I just wanted to be alone, so little by little I began to distance myself from the main activities of the clan, I would no longer go to train and most of my life was on the night, that way, I could avoid crossing with someone. With the loneliness and pain of the mourning, I could feel how something inside me was screaming to get out. After a month of my isolation, I decided that it was time to start train my way and stop ignoring that force that is was in me, so at night I sneaked through the caves and, without no one, I began to explore what was that energy that came from me every time the anger and the pain washed me over. Surrounded by silence and darkness it was how I began to understand that that force could be activated and manipulate on my will, sometimes, I remember my games with the snow in Hoth, although those, motivated by curiosities and fascination, were very different from this, obtained through hours of meditation and contained grief.

Since my cabin had been completely consumed by fire, I started living with Ylva, who tried to make my days as bearable as possible. There were full days that I stayed with her, cringing inconsolably in her arms, as she just stroked my hair in silence. Ylva was the only close contact I had with the rest of the clan. Sometimes Keldo visited me after his practices, and he just sat on the edge of my bed while I was still laid. We never spoke.

A few months a rumor began to spread among our clans, predicting the arrival of a fleet that could threaten our entire planet, commenting that it had been reborn from the ashes of the old Empire and its objective was the same. Some people take this as mere gossip from traders who casually land on our planet, while others, including Keldo and Balder, saw it as a warning.

One night, our troops together with the Claw Clan called a meeting to determine our defense measures, and despite my tediousness, I concluded that the best was to join them. "Our planet has an old defense system that Con Star installed when they were here, I think it was established to deal with thieves who might come to steal their minerals..." said Balder as he lit a cigarette; Keldo, Carr, Porr, and Torben were talking among themselves about his comment, while Phasma, now named our new matriarch, fanned the fire of our bonfire "Keldo, even if it's a rumor, we have to be prepared..." Balder was still smoking while I sat next to him, while the others were still arguing "In case it's just that, a rumor, we´ll also be protecting our planet from any future threat..." I discreetly held Balder gently by his hand and with a gesture, I asked him to light me a cigarette, Phasma, was fixing her eyes on me "I plan to guide a crew to the Con Star facilities..." Balder gave me the lit cigar "And find out if the defense system is still working".

The boys stopped talking to each other and look at Balder, Keldo was ready to talk but he was interrupted "And if the system doesn't work, then what will we do?" Phasma sat in front of me "The Con Star facilities have been empty for more than 100 years..." she crossed her arms without taking her eyes off me "It's a toss of a coin!" she continues her argue, looking at me while I was smoking "Going to the Con Star facilities is to cross half a desert, require men, vehicles and resources. If we get there and the system doesn't work anymore, everything will be at useless and a waste of time" she concluded her plea, I only saw her while I continued smoking, it was obvious that this was going to be a long night and more with Phasma disagreeing of everything "I think Phasma is right..." Keldo began to speak while crossing his arms too "Going to Con Star is a risk for every one us, but it´s riskier to ignore the rumors...".

"Keldo!" interrupted Phasma with a shout, while he only raised a hand towards her to shut her up "If we go there and the planet's defense systems no longer work, we´ll have spent time and resources, but, if we can still activate it, we´ll be ensuring the protection of all of us against any threats, so..." Keldo turned to see Phasma, who was starting to turn red with anger "It's decided, we´ll go" and without saying anything, Phasma got up from her place and left the campfire "It´s agreed then!" Balder gave a noisy applause while a huge smile was painted on his face "We´ll leave tomorrow at dawn!" and rising from the fire, he headed out for his clan to begin the preparations.

Once the details were agreed between our crew, some went to their cabins when the others followed Balder, leaving Keldo and me alone, so once I finished my cigar, I threw it into the bonfire and I got up from my place, starting to walk back to my cabin with my back to Keldo "Diamond, could you stay one more moment with me? It won't take long.." turning around, I sat down again, we found ourselves facing another, separated by the fire "I know that these months have been difficult for you..." I crossed my arms while he started talking "You have notoriously left from..." I couldn't believe Keldo believed that he could give me a lecture and without stop looking at the fire I interrupted him "No Keldo, you don't know, stop assuming that you know how I feel and how difficult this has been for me, when..." Keldo abruptly stands up from his place, maybe in his mind, he thought that showing some sympathy I was going to open my mind to him, which didn´t work as he wanted and made him flustered, so he choose to take the offensive "I know about Egil and you Diamond! Phasma told me that she found you in Egil´s arms the night of the first confrontation we had with Balder!" his statement took me completely by surprise, how he dared to reclaim me for something like that, I felt uncomfortable, embarrassed, annoyed and at the same time I understood why Phasma behaved like this towards me "And still, I ignored it for a whole year! A year in which I courted you, to try to be by your side, even knowing that you were sleeping with him!".

I began to feel how some helpless tears ran down my cheeks, how he dares do this "And it surprises me that, even now, knowing this, you make me aside with your indifference!" Keldo was annoyed, since, when he started walking towards me his steps were long and heavy "For some reason, you interest me a lot! More than I should...” his voice became almost a whisper when he reached me. Once in front, he knelt, the tears didn´t stop flowing from my eyes when his hands gently held my cheeks, slightly lifting it, now easily I could see him in the eyes, his thumbs wiped away the tears that ran down my cheeks and Keldo placed his forehead on mine. I could feel his warm breath on my face, his nose brushing mine, when suddenly, his lips landed on mine, and although brief, it was a soft caress that filled my chest with warmth “Please Diamond, left all that behind and stay with me this time..." he whispered to my lips. Keldo kept kissing me, holding my body in an embrace so tight that it seemed that our bodies would come one together.

His lips became more insistent, his hands clung to my body harder and before mounting a scene in public we went to his cabin. Once inside, Keldo's entire body was on mine, pinning me on the door, while his hands untied the knots of my robe and his lips made their way into my neck, kissing it and leaving a trail of small bites, until he found my sweet spot, causing me to moan a little.

My hands gripped Keldo's hair, while he made their way into my clothing, pulling back my robe and exposing my breasts. Gently, one of his hands began to massage one of it, while the other firmly held my hip "I want you..." Keldo whispered in my neck and began to create a path with his lips around my neck to my chest. Slowly he brings his lips to one of my breasts and starts to lick my nipple. All his movements were delicate on my body and I cannot deny that I was loving the way he treated me, with so much affection "Do you like it?" Keldo whispered bringing his gaze to mine, I just nod "Tell me what you want me to do..." he kept tracing kisses on my chest until he reached my other nipple, which he kissed tenderly "Suck it.." I whispered and immediately Keldo brought his mouth to my breast, licking and sucking it.

I could feel his tongue playing with my nipple, his saliva dripping around it. My nipple was so hard between his lips, while one of my hands continued to hold his hair, I held my breast with the other and I began to rub my nipple between my fingers, I started moaning louder, I could see how Keldo watched sideways as I pinched my hard nipple, so she started sucking harder, making me extremely sensitive, meanwhile I could feel my pussy getting wet.

The hand he has on my waist slipped under my pants and his fingers began to rub my pussy. Keldo separated his mouth from my breasts and removed his hand from my pussy, unzipped my pants and removed it together with my panties, he knelt in front of me and looking at me with his eyes semiclosed, he took one of his hands to my slit and began to caress it, opening it and rubbing it and without saying anything, he insert one of his fingers into my cunt and started to sink it gently, at no time he didn´t take his gaze from my eyes, while my chest moved faster and faster, after a few seconds, he inserted another of his fingers and started to increase the rhythm.

I leaned against the door and slightly bent my knees to give him better access while still stroking my nipples, the room filled with my moans and the sound that Keldo's fingers made as it entered and slamed my cunt, his hand was started to be covered with my juices, suddenly, he removed his fingers from my slit and brought it to his mouth, licking and sucking it until it was clean "I want to taste you fully..." his words made my whole body tremble with desire, I just nodded, Keldo brought his face close to my pussy, with one of his hands he lifted one of my legs and placed it on his shoulder, giving him better access to my cunt, once, in that position, one of his hands held my hip to give me stability and with the other, he buried his fingers in my pussy again, while he slowly took his mouth to my slit and began to lick it.

Tenderly and cautiously, his tongue traced all over my slit, while his fingers kept pumping. I started to moan louder and louder, I could feel a pressure forming in my belly, Keldo increased the speed his fingers and I held with both hands his head digging it deeper into my pussy, he continued rubbing his tongue, engulfing my juices "Come in my mouth..." he whispers, sending amazing vibrations in my whole body "I want you to cum in my mouth ... I want to taste you completely..." and he started sucking my clit. I couldn't take it anymore and let my orgasm take over me, while I held his head tighter in my pussy as I came, Keldo just moaned loudly on it as he continued to suck my clit and his fingers kept going in and out.

Slowly, he held my body, which was in a state of ecstasy, my knees were shaking a little and I was panting, so he charged me between his arms to the bed. Once there, as I was getting out of my high state while he began to undress. Gradually, each of his clothes fell to the floor, I took the opportunity to finish removing the few clothes I had left. His hands unbuttoned his pants and he began to lower it slowly, letting his cock bounce, it was not very big, but it was thick.

Licking my pussy had made him extremely hard, since his head was red and covered with a huge drop of pre-cum, which he spread all over his extension with one of his thumbs. Keldo stood at the foot of the bed observing my entire body while holding and caressing his entire cock from top to bottom, my eyes were completely fixed on how his hands rubbed their entire length.

He didn´t say anything, just climbed onto the bed, positioned himself between my legs, which he opened completely, aligned his cock with my entrance and started to push it in slowly and growled "You are so wet..." once with his cock completely inside my cunt, he fixed his eyes on my pussy and caressed my folds with one of his hands "You look just perfect like this, taking all my cock inside your tight pussy ..." he began to move slowly "So, so tight..." a groan formed in his throat, all its length felt so well inside me, his hands began to caress my hip, my waist, my abdomen until he reached my neck and held it "I think Egil didn´t fuck your sweet pussy very often..." and with a big smile on his face, without saying more, he began to thrust his cock abruptly "It's a shame he didn't put it to good use..." I could feel his cock hitting my cervix pulling the loudest moans out of my mouth "But don't worry..." Keldo kept fucking me with brutal force "I'll fuck you until you can't take it anymore..." his hips impacted sharply with mine, while his fingers sank on my hip, curses mixed with my name came out of his lips and little by little his cock began to rub more and more my g-spot, causing my full body to begin to tense "Come on... Fuck... Come on my cock" sweat trickled down his forehead, he was close to reaching his limit as his lunges began to lose pace "I want you to cum on my cock Diamond..." my body, without a doubt, wanted to continue feeling his cock going in and out of me.

I wanted his hands to leave bruises where it held me, I wanted to continue listening to his moans "Do you like Keldo?" I held him by the legs, I wanted to increase the friction "Do you like how my pussy squeezes your cock?" Keldo groaned and fixed his eyes on mine "Keep talking to me like this..." he lifted one of my legs and placed it on his shoulder, leaning over me posing his face over mine "You're going to make me cum if I keep talking like this..." he caught my lips on his and kissed me passionately "Fuck... Yes... Please continue..." with my leg on his knee the depth of his onslaughts grew stronger, I could feel his cock squirm inside me "Fill me with your cum Keldo..." I held him by the shoulders as he buried his head in my neck "Cum to the last drop..." his tongue licked my neck, while his hip pressed harder making me moan louder and louder "Let my pussy milk all your of you..." my words did wonders on he, since, in an instant, his cock began to contract in my pussy, causing my orgasm just in time to feel how he filled me with his warm seed without stopping fucking me.

Once we both recovered from our highs, Keldo pulled out his cock, lay down next to me, and took me to his chest. His hands gently caressed my hair, while I felt how he was kissing the top of my head "Stay with me Diamond" I just nodded as one of my hands drew figures on his chest. Slowly, we both started to get sleepy and as the night continued, I could feel how his actions and words change me; once more my darkness began to transform into a small halo, a light sigh that filled me with new hope again.

The mission to Con Star was successful, between our group and the Claw Clan, we were able to restore the defense systems that are throughout all Parnassos, from now on, if a ship wanted to land on our planet, they had to request permission, otherwise, it would be knocked down at the first second it enters our atmosphere. Little by little, several merchant ships arrived on our planet, since Con Star's communication system had also been put into operation. As the merchants arrived, they brought with them new and bigger rumors about the supposed New Empire, an empire that none of them had personally seen but that is spreading like wildfire.

With all this, the relation between our clan changed radically. Phasma wasn´t entirely comfortable with the fact that Keldo and I were so openly with our relationship and she declared on several occasions her desire to go out and explore other planets with the arriving merchant ships, to which Keldo always refused. I continued with my nightly training whenever I can and during the days, Keldo insisted on teaching me politics, negotiation and business strategies, I learned a lot from him, especially when he taught me that sometimes says nothing and only see the people could tell me much more than words and how the acts could say more about the intentions of them.

Tensions within our clan became increasingly due to the discomfort and anger of Phasma, who positioned herself not only as the matriarch of our clan, but also as one of our best warriors, if not the best. Carr, Porr, Gosta, Siv, and Torben kept in her side forming a kind of group of soldiers, who each time they could, questioned the orders of Keldo, who, supported by Balder, managed to keep them in place. I decided that it was best to stay out of any situation that involved any contact with Phasma and her group, since, for some reason, whenever we get involved in any circumstance, Phasma ended up on the offensive with me and what Keldo less need in that moment, was that, his sister and his, now future wife, ignited more the fires of the disagreement and separation of the group.

I agreed to marry Keldo more out of the need to provide stability to our clan than out of a desire to do so, although that didn´t mean that I didn´t feel any kind of emotional bond with him. Following Ylva's advice, our leader needs to shows the ability to maneuver an own family to give stability to their image, so we decided to set a date for the wedding in the middle of the next year.

The celebrations of the begging of 24 ABY had barely passed, when the security system alarms went on, an unauthorized ship had entered our atmosphere without permission and the security system shot it down near the Con Star facility, at the same time, Claw Clan members claimed to had seen an escape pod launched within their territory. Immediately Keldo and Balder put together a plan to recover the capsule, from our part a group led by Phasma and consisting of Siv, Gosta, Carr, Porr and Torben, will go, while Balder sent a dozen men to accompany them, the instructions of Keldo were clear, retrieving any supplies from the ship and kill the survivors.

Note: I would like to especially thank @kyloren-theprince, @thetorturerwrites & @kylorengarbagedump who took time to read this first part of my saga and sent me observations with all the patience in the world.

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