#i changed who my agent 4 is since last time i mentioned it

[lunaryhues]

The agents describe why they're on their Grand Festival teams. Happy Grand Big Run Day!

single-image version under the cut

[kaybreezy3000]

The Boy A Five Hargreeves / Female Reader Insert

Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)

Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4

Anonymous asked:

will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:⁠-⁠*

(For those of you who are awesome and have read all my stuff before this little smut filled story, you might notice some similarities in this one to some things my 16-year-old version of Five went through in 'Number Five and the Girl.' No worries this is much different, but I thought I'd mention it because so much of what I've written already could have filled this request, so I borrowed some ideas from hot little moments I'd sort of done before to add some fun to this Five's adventure.)

Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂

The Boy

Part One: The Push

Like you had been for the last two months since Five had been assigned as your mentor and you started training with him, there you were, attached at the hip.

Walking down the hall towards your room at the CIA training facility, instead of him treating you to his endless cold glares and his usual lines of belittling bullshit, Five didn’t seem to mind as much that he’d been paired with you. Today, he seemed more than okay with it as indicated by the way he had been eyeing you up like he wanted to do much more than spar with you while the other recruits made jokes about you kicking his ass and him being not that much bigger than you.

After asking him if he’d like to come back to your room so you could change into something warmer and then go get something to eat together somewhere better than the CIA building’s cafeteria, like he’d never done before, Five followed you, but then he was hesitating at the threshold of your room.

Playing the gentlemen and your superior, you could tell that he wasn't going to budge, so you reached out and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. Five Hargreeves was not the type to be led by anyone, and before this he had been acting like he loathed you, so him giving in so easily was very surprising, but also very encouraging.

You had felt the tension building between you all day. On the outside, Five seemed calm and in control like always, but his eyes gave him away. The way he looked at you told you a much different story when it came to him wanting to keep things strictly professional.

Feeling braver, you started thinking.

Earlier, while you were with him in training, Five and the other agents were talking about how most altercations aren’t the type where you get to stand and face each other, and even worse, during the fight, you usually both end up on the ground where things get dirty. They all said you needed to practice more realistic scenarios, but Five, as your assigned partner, didn’t seem too keen on putting his hands on you in any way that may have been considered too rough, but he also didn’t want to let anyone else touch you.

To your shock, as Five braced himself behind you, directing you to get out of his chokehold, his embrace was more like that of a lover than an attacker, his soft breaths tickling your ear from behind as they cascaded down your neck. When he ordered you to drop to your knees, your mind going all sorts of places, other than where it should have been, you did as you were told, throwing all your weight back into him.

Falling back, your body landing on top of him, he started laughing at you, and his laughter was almost just as alarming as his dimpled smile that had been charming you anytime he had been willing to grace you with it over the last few weeks.

You had just crushed him, almost elbowing him in the dick, but the thing worrying you wasn’t his nuts. You were falling for him-hard.

On your walk back to the dorms, giving Five a hard time about constantly treating you like you were made of glass, you said, “Why not start practicing more realistic takedowns? Why are you handling me with kid gloves?”

Five gave you one of his adorable side smirks as he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I can be harder on you if you really want, but I’d prefer to do that with you without an audience of assholes.”

Hmmm? You were alone now?

Five was looking around, taking in the general chaos that was the room you’d been sharing with one of the other trainees. His eyes stopped on your bed.

“Sorry. It’s really messy in here,” you said.

Five looked back up. “No, it’s not bad. Don’t apologize. You should have seen the messes my siblings made of things in the house I grew up in. This is nothing.” He laughed nervously.

“Didn’t you say you had five brothers and one sister? That’s a lot of male mess going on. Where was it you said you grew up again?”

Five didn’t answer. Instead, he sucked in his lower lip, wetting it as he looked around again. He glanced over at the few things you were allowed to keep with you while in training. He swallowed. He was staring at you so intently. He was so hard to read sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

Now he was making you nervous.

He cleared his throat as his lips turned up again. “I like working with you," he said, casually tucking his hands in his pockets. "A lot actually."

Five had no idea how handsome he was with those animated expressions of his, or how cute he was right now, awkwardly flirting with you. Not wanting to break the magical moment that was happening, you decided to flirt with him right back.

“So, you wanted to see how I handle a little groundwork, but in private?” you dangled while raising both your eyebrows in question.

He shrugged his shoulders while tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a bad idea if you want to be able to defend yourself.”

There was an air of the usual superiority in his tone that was so irritatingly him.

You scrunched your nose. “I think I can defend myself pretty damn well already, Mr. Perfect. I’m warning you now, I know how to get down and dirty. You are the one that’s the closeted softy.” You came forward, backing him closer to your bed as you moved your hand down his arm until your fingers brushed the underside of his left wrist.

Five visibly tensed, as if you’d touched him in a painful way, but there was no sign outwardly why that was. Looking down at the flawless patch of skin under your fingers, he came back to himself. “You're allowed to believe that, but it doesn’t mean you’re right,” he taunted, smiling back at you innocently.

Without warning, you pulled him closer. With a quick spin, you twisted his arm behind him. Then, throwing all your weight into it, you pushed Five on your bed.

He landed on your blankets face down, and you quickly leaped on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back to restrict his movement before he could retaliate.

“Impressive,” he huffed, laughing as he lay there, pretending to be vanquished.

You knew he wasn’t that easy to take down. He let you get him, but you were enjoying the moment anyway.

Your victory didn’t last long, despite your best efforts. Five effortlessly ripped his arms free of your hold. Then he sprang up from the bed, sweeping you up with him before nailing you down on the mattress.

In one swift motion, he had you pinned with your arms above your head. He lay over you, forcing your legs wide with his knees.

“You always need to be alert and ready for anything," he scolded. "Things can change in the blink of an eye. If you let your guard down, you may find yourself in a position you don't want to be in."

The way he was schooling you, you knew he was genuinely trying to teach you something, but you were also surer than ever that he was testing you in a whole different kind of way that had nothing to do with your training.

“Oh, I don’t know about not wanting to be in this situation..." You gave him a playful wink, one you knew would fluster him. "The view is not too bad down here. For all you know, I may have wanted to be in this position. Maybe it was all part of my master plan. Did you ever think of that, smarty pants?” 

Five’s cool smile melted into something feral looking.

All at once he secured both your wrists in one of his hands. Then he painstakingly slowly ran the fingers of his other hand down the sensitive underside of your exposed left arm.

“Oh FFffff! Five! Ss-stop that's, please sto-” you laughed and gasped, wriggling like a manic as you tried to escape his maddeningly gentle touch.

He didn’t relent. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. You had nothing on but your cropped workout top and equally tight spandex shorts and he was in his usual gym clothes of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. You’d been training together like that for hours, but all of sudden your lack of normal skin covering clothing was making this feel much different than if you’d been sitting together with him helping you study while he was dressed in his signature three-piece suit and you in your more female version of business attire.

You were in your bed of all places, and that look in his eyes, and the feeling of him pressing himself on you the way he was!

He looked so unbelievably hot and there you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Seriously, that tickles!”

“Awww,” he drawled, while looking fake sorry for you. “Ever hear that saying, you reap what you sow? I felt you trying to get a rise out of me with those evil girl talons of yours. You made me look like an fucking idiot today on the mats when you dug your fingers into my ribs, and you know damn well what you were doing had nothing to do with self-defense.”

Your frantic pleas to make him stop only seemed to spur him on more, because after that, his hand danced along the length of your exposed side, then down your quivering stomach.

“Five Hargreeves…I think they are right, you don’t fight fair,” you accused in between breathless panting for him to stop.

“Doesn’t matter if you fight fair. It only matters if you win.” The sultry tenor of Five’s voice as he leaned down, humming against your skin, only furthered your inability to think.

To add to your shock, he began peppering kisses along your shoulder, then up your neck to your widely gaped jaw.

Five was not affectionate. He was dangerously smart, aloof, and even scary sometimes, but with that maneuver, he’d just proved that there was more to him than the closed off person he wanted people to stay away from.

His gentle fingers trailed across your abdomen, sending shivers through your entire body. Perhaps feeling you struggling to hold yourself together, or maybe just because he was an arrogant shit, Five suddenly had to bury his loud burst of laughter into your neck, and with it, he let his nose brush against your skin in such a loving way it made you squirm all over again.

“Doesn’t really seem to bother you…me not fighting fair and all,” he breathed. He smiled against your neck as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder.

You were pretty sure he said something else after that, but for the life of you, you couldn’t concentrate enough to register what it was, not when his teeth were lightly nipping at the bottom of your ear and his fingers were moving back up, his thumb grazing over the mounded fabric of your top.

As he let out the quietest moan from the feel of your breasts under his hand, you couldn’t help it either as you hummed in approval while your body reactively rocked up against him.

As soon as you did that, Five abruptly pulled back from his onslaught of kisses, his hand lowering as he attempted to shift himself so he wasn’t lying on top of you as much. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable as he sucked in a breath, as if needing the extra air to voice what was on his mind, but instead of coming out with it, he grimaced and looked away, seeming to think better of it. 

Your faces were still so close, so you rose up on your shoulders, as much as he’d let you, clearing the gap. You quietly said his name, wishing he would just look at you again. It sounded like a plea, and it was.

Five’s lips collided with yours. He released your hands, while at the same time pivoting his weight on both his forearms so he could better control how much of his weight he was pressing into you.

His kiss was urgent, and wild, and beautifully sloppy, like he’d never done this before. 

He was becoming more and more agitated the more he let himself explore your mouth with his breathlessly trembling lips. His breathing was becoming heavier, and you could tell he wanted to move his hips into your pelvis more than he was already rocking and digging them against you.

It must have felt so good to him as is though, because he was getting hard, and the young man, who for the last few months was never the type to show any sign of vulnerability, actually whimpered, and holy fuck was that hot.

Shocked by his own verbal moment of weakness, Five pulled away again, but just as fast, you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and steered him back. Kissing him softly, you let your tongue run along his lower lip.

He shut his eyes. His expression looked so pained. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “I am not who you think I am. If you knew all the horrible things I have done, you wouldn’t look up to me the way you do.” He opened his eyes. “On top of all that, I am way too old for you.”

Sure… Okay. All this had to be because Five was just worried that he was your mentor and that this kind of relationship wasn’t something your superiors would be okay with. That made sense, but…

You smiled, then said, “Oh my God, Five! Who says I look up to you? And I am older than you, you self-absorbed jerk who apparently never bothered to read my bio.” 

With that and his exceptionally sour expression that followed your declaration, you started laughing at him, and the entire situation because you were older. Only by a year, but really…What was he talking about?

Five opened his mouth a few times while trying to figure out a retort, so you came at him before he could, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth with kittenish feistiness, and that seemed to rattle him like nothing else had so far, and it sent him coming back at you like a man being torn apart from the inside out.

After that, Five started to let his tongue and teeth explore more freely and it was clear that was something he had wanted to do, only like all of this, he hadn’t been sure of it being okay until you’d pushed him and made the first move.

He always smelled good. You knew that before, but wow. Five tasted like what you'd think comfort would taste like if it had a taste; like the warmth of good coffee mixed with an old-fashioned dinner mint. He was the embodiment of pleasure, and his lean body was built to move in more ways than you’d seen him work it while in the gym when beating the shit out of the other much larger agents.

Having your hands free to do as they wished, you dropped them both down under Five as he lifted up just a little, moving his dick region so it wasn't rubbing as much between your legs as it had been.

You let the tips of your fingers drift down the length of his tight stomach muscles, moving them with a feather-light touch. You inched them along slower and slower after you passed over his navel, going up under his shirt, following the thin trail of dark hair that led from there, down into his shorts.

Five's hands clenched in the sheets at your sides as he fought to hold still. Every muscle in his abdomen shuddered under your touch, quivering in anticipation as you played with the dangling strings that were meant to keep his shorts around his waist.

He pulled away from your kiss to catch his breath, burrowing his face against the side of your neck. “Holy Shit…” he breathed, in between his wet kisses. His body, involuntarily, it seemed, dropped lower, his torso falling flush against the heat between your legs again for just a moment before he quickly readjusted his hips on the mattress next to you.

Before he could fully right himself by pulling back up on his elbows and roll away from you completely, you brought your hand back up to his neck, your fingers lacing through his incredibly soft hair. "It felt good, don’t stop," you whispered.

Looking utterly broken; he began kissing your neck, moving upwards again as he simultaneously started to move his shaft against the side of your leg.

Five nipped at your ear harder than he had been before and the sensation had you digging your nails across his back, and that seemed to excite him even more. In a frenzy, he started to run his tongue along, first the shell of your ear, then anywhere he could get at, and based on the noises he was making, he liked how you tasted.

That boy was good, and not just with a gun while at the shooting range. The ache between your legs was becoming more apparent with each shameless thing he did to you.

When Five satisfied himself with marking your neck, he moved to your collarbone. It felt like he was studying every inch of you with his mouth, gauging your reactions as he went. He first kissed, then licked, then sucked gently along the rolling plains of your rapidly rising and falling chest. It felt so amazing that you had to dig your feet into the bed to contain yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned as he threw his leg over yours and repositioned himself fully on top of you.

You whined as his hardened length nudged between your legs, then cruelly moved away. Thankfully, the sound of your discontent seemed to make Five bolder, and he did it again, then moved his mouth lower, applying kisses along the edges of your workout top, playfully pulling it up with his teeth.

Your toes curled as you squirmed under him in anticipation, and so far, he hadn't even used his hands for anything other than to hold your wrists above your head!

You were both oblivious to the world going on around you when suddenly you pulled your attention away from him because you thought you heard something. Five must have heard it too because all at once he stopped what he was doing. His entire body froze.

“Ahem,” coughed a voice from over Five's shoulder.

You leaned up, peering over him. Even before seeing her, you knew who it was.

“Hey…” you offered weakly, not bothering to hide your embarrassment from your roommate because there was no point. 

She was already smiling like a total goofball, and her expression grew bigger and happier as she took in the extent of your blushing state and that of your equally turned-on partner in crime.  

Loving it, she mouthed, “Is that who I think it is?”

The slow shake of your head confirmed her suspicions. She cleared her throat obnoxiously, then said, “It’s about time you guys got past all your staring at each other with puppy dog eyes of disgusting longing.”

With his face still buried against your neck, Five let out the tiniest sound, like that of the sad little puppy she’d just compared him to, then he growled, “You have no idea what you are talking about because I have never looked at anyone like that.”

“Er, whatever you say… So, ah…sorry guys. I will just, ah…go,” your friend said as she jerked her finger and thumb back towards the hall, but she was still dawdling, enjoying the site of Five, laying there still as could be, trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t just busted while trying to dry fuck you like you were both horny teenagers that were still in high school.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Five groaned, as he started moving off of you.

Your roommate was leaving at that point, but hearing Five's frustrated oration, she turned back around, shooting you a huge cat just ate the canary grin before quietly shutting the door behind her.

Next to you, Five tipped his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. It looked like he was praying it would fall on him.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Can’t I ever get a break?”

It was obvious Five was upset about getting walked in on because this could mean his job, but you also knew that he had to be upset because he’d just totally been cock-blocked, and if he hadn't been, you weren’t sure what would have happened or how far things would have gone. 

Thinking of the impressively engorged package he was dealing with in his sexy gym shorts, you rolled over, facing him, your lower lip pouty. “Ah, yeah… So....that sucked,” you said, stating the obvious as you tried to suppress your giggle.

Five just stared at you and groaned again. By the look on his face, you were pretty sure he was ready to die, and you weren’t about to let that happen, so you were about to suggest a different kind of sucking, but first you thought you should address his other big concern.

“Hey, don’t worry," you said, laying your hand on his tensed forearm. "I swear she won’t say anything. She already knew I had a huge crush on you. Lots of girls here would die to be in my shoes because that would mean they would get to enjoy your scowls and contemptuous comments all day like I do.” You tried a reassuring smile, getting serious. “Really, she’s trustworthy.”

What you said seemed to help. At least it brought a smile back to Five’s tightly pursed lips.

“You are full of shit,” he shot back, not believing you, but about which part, you weren’t sure. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued before you could insist that you weren’t lying about any of it. “If she says anything, I am done, but at least I got to hump you for three minutes, so that was totally worth throwing away five years of my hard work to get myself in this pathetically lame position that I’ve waited a lifetime to totally fuck up.”

He threw a hand over his face, then back into his chocolatey mess of hair.

Somehow, Five managed to sound both irritated, but also so funny, which was just one of the many things that made you like him so much. The light in his eyes was coming back and he hadn’t tried to touch you again, and he'd also not let up on the blanket he was using to cover himself. It was obvious your little moment with him was over, and he was doing his best to calm himself down, but something else seemed off.

You frowned, but you weren’t mad at all because you mostly understood why he’d said all that. You’d feel awful if he was let go because of you. Everyone knew that Five was amazing at his job. He was a bona fide genius the CIA had found at a very young age while he was crushing his studies to get through his PhD. His being a fully contracted agent in the CIA at so young was unheard of.

Compared to him, you were only there as an intern and had years ahead of you to actually get hired and prove yourself the way he already had.

Once you managed to control your brain again, you finally responded, and stopped staring at him like you wanted to be devoured by his perfect mouth.

You took your hand off his arm, then quietly said, “I suppose you’d rather not get lunch with me now?”

His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in that way of his. “I suppose, it would be better if we didn’t,” he said with eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating he was upset about something, but if it was about getting busted and potentially losing his job or something more, you couldn’t tell.

“That’s it then…? That is unless you want to stay," you offered, then purposely glanced at your bedding still bunched to his crotch. "You could show me a few more moves?” 

After a few seconds, Five cleared his throat and grinned, making your heart skip a beat. “We better not do that again,” he said, then he looked away. “You go first. I just need a minute. I’ll lock your door on the way out.”

“Okay,” you replied, your heart sinking through the floorboards.

"Okay," he agreed.

He lay there on his side, head propped up on his arm, you threw on a baggy sweatshirt and some jogging pants. After covering yourself, you turned. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said, still staring off as if you weren’t even there.

Chapter Two: 

Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

 What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.

Part Two:  Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

 What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.

Part Three: Closeted Softy

One second you and Five were heading down the hall, making your way to the conference room where, in an hour, he was going to be delivering a class to other trainees on interrogation tactics, then the next, your head was spinning from how quickly Five had latched on to you and swung you around, pushing you inside a maintenance closet.

It was dark, but not completely because the light seeping in from under the door filled enough of the cramped space for you to see that a jug of industrial cleaner was sitting on a shelf, inches from your face.

Something behind Five jingled, like a set of keys or something else metal.The points of his dress shoes nudged against the tips of your toes as he moved in closer, pressing you against the wall, so you couldn’t get away. You started to open your mouth, but before you knew it, he crashed his lips into yours, silencing you.

As he pinned you in his embrace with his strong fingers digging into your hips, his kiss quickly grew deeper and more desperate, making your heart beat faster and faster. Then, suddenly, he broke away, peering at you with his striking green eyes full of the devil.

“My turn,” he said, his smile exposing more of his charmingly boyish dimple in the dim light.

His warm fingers started sliding up the length of your arms, an unexpected coldness tickling your skin as he went, bringing your hands together. The weight of his body pushing against you, Five recaptured your lips with his again, then he pinched his fingers around the metal rings he’d just sneakily slipped around your wrists, tightening the handcuffs that you had no idea he’d had with him.

“Five, wha-"

As soon as he had you strung up, the chain of the cuffs hung up on one of the hooks above your head that would normally be used to hang a mop or broom, Five’s hands moved down, pushing you into the wall even tighter. "No hands, remember,” he mumbled in way of explanation before biting down on your earlobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he suddenly pinched your nipples through the fabric of your blouse.

You gasped in shock, feeling Five's breathily laughed sigh of happiness over it, then you felt his velvety whisper. "Was that good?"

“I think you know it was,” you breathed as you squirmed in frustration, wanting to touch him, to run your fingers along the lines of his handsome face, then down his lean frame, but able to do none of that as he peered at you through the darkness with a lopsided grin.

Five's eyes smoldered, the soft green glint in them nonexistent. Lowering his head, he started softly licking one of your nipples through your shirt, his saliva wetting the fabric so there’d be no way you could hide it when the door reopened.

“You regretting doing this with me yet?” he asked when he pulled away.

All you could do was let out the most pathetic sounding whimper, so he did it again, only this time smiling against your peeked flesh before he bit down, making your body crane up against his. That’s when he reached down between you, and started palming himself.

Five jerked his chin to the side and slowly swallowed, his Adam's apple moving accordingly while your eyes drank in the sexiness of his nervous tick.

All at once, abandoning his own need, his hands were sliding up your skirt, moving between your legs. His breath hitched as soon as he felt the heat of your desire for him wetting your satin underwear.

A growl crept up from inside Five’s throat as he pushed the garment aside, slipping it down your legs where it got trapped at your ankles, further proving how helpless you were. At the feel of his hand sliding down, you squirmed over the new sensation, but instead of giving you what you wanted, Five paused, letting the wetness of your arousal paint the tips of his fingers.

“Oh fuck, I fucking love this,” he breathed as if transfixed. That breathless declaration, along with the gentle movement of his fingers, softly and carefully stroking, hit you hard. You reactively clenched your thighs together as fresh wetness spilled between your legs.

You whimpered as he cursed again, and his finger started sliding a little harder.

You bucked against his hand because it felt so good. Equally moved, Five feverishly started kissing you, but his hand remained, lodged between your legs.

Trying to chase the gloriously erotic feeling he was giving you by feeling more of him, you tried to push closer to him, but he wouldn’t let you, dodging it by moving himself back out of your reach.

“MMmmmmfff!" you cried, breathlessly breaking away from his mouth. "Yes, Five, there!” you urged and panted, then you had to hold your breath because that was way too loud and his finger was moving just right against your clit and…”Ahhh-ah-Ffffiiiiiivvveeee!”

Standing there, his silhouette in his black suit only making him look all the more sinister, Five smiled so sweetly. “That’s it, say my fucking name.”

“Fffffuuu- Five, yeeeeeesssss,” you moaned, when his index finger moved harder and faster.

Your breathing was becoming more labored, and your heart was beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Your body was moving of its own accord, your hips helplessly wiggling against his hand. Unable to control himself, Five started to thrust himself against your leg. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he growled as your body rammed back against the wall from the momentum of his attack.

His index finger pushed through your folds, flirting with entering you before sliding back upwards, pressing into your clit with just the right pressure. The handcuffs dug into your skin as your back arched off the wall while he licked at your earlobe in long hot hungry swipes.

“Say it!”

“I want you to fuck me! Please, Five!”

Only furthering his claim on you, and proving none of this was in your control, Five bit down hard and sucked at the skin on your shoulder as his finger flew around your nub, gliding faster and faster in a semi-circle like motion, pushing upwards, then down with no mercy. 

You bucked and thrashed. “Yes, like that,” you frantically begged.

Five slowed his pace to a stop, denying you. 

He lifted his head, looking up at you appraisingly, then he slowly slipped his finger inside you. As it disappeared, your walls involuntarily clenched around it, and looking diabolically thrilled, Five moved his digit deeper inside you.

You moaned, so broken and quiet that it finally seemed to bring a little of that familiar light of worry to his eyes. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.

Lost in the feeling of him inside you, you shook your head.

Once your tightness could be felt along the whole length of his finger and his palm was pressed up against you, Five began to slowly move in and out to the same pace as his thumb swirling around your clit.

“Oh my god, Five,” you gasped, as your whole body struggled against his.

“Does this feel good?” he asked, determined to keep you talking as he angled his finger up, letting it drag, making you bucked up, proving that was a move worth repeating.

“Ff-fuck. Ff-feels so good,” your words trailed off as you pinched your eyes shut.

“Say that you are nothing but a little prick tease and all you want is my cock, or I’m leaving you in here and not coming back,” Five demanded, his voice sounding so low and cold.

You didn’t understand. You said nothing.

“Do it!” Five angrily hissed.

“I’m a prick tease and I want your cock,” you obediently cried.

Five pulled out of your warmth, then gently buried his middle finger and index fingers together inside you, doing it so slowly.

Watching you intently, Five gradually increased the pace and angle of both fingers. He moved them in and out, again and again, the soft wet rhythmic sound of him moving inside you, and your panting for more, driving his wrist harder and faster. Unable to stop himself, he pushed his mouth against yours, fighting to be inside you even more than he was, but soon his own breathing became too unsteady, and he was forced to pull away for air.

“Fi-ve....I am almost there… Plea-se don’t st-op!” Your teeth pierced the bottom of your lip as you closed your eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and just like that you did. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, about to double if the cuffs hadn’t been holding you up and he looked like something dark had consumed him, something terrifying.

“Please…let me go so I want to touch you,” you said as you gasped and bucked against his hand, your wetness warmly slipping against his palm as his long fingers felt like they were touching your soul.

“Do this for me, like this, and it will be over,” Five lovingly urged, and that change in how he’d spoke to you and what he’d said confused you even more.

"Five!" you cried as his fingers abruptly changed pace again, violently slamming in and out of you.

Your legs all at once tightened around his hand and your insides began to clench around him. Your entire body tensed, then shuddered. You weren’t breathing at all for moments on end. When you did, it was strained, but Five’s fingers kept going at it hard, letting you ride out every moment of the orgasm he’d forced out of you. 

When the clinching sensation around his fingers gradually began to slow to where he could no longer feel it, Five finally stopped moving them. You went limp against him, breathing heavily as he let you drop your head to his shoulder. 

As he held you, you were letting out shaky noises of contentment, and you were sure by the way his hand trembled as he ran it up and down our back that he wasn’t feeling very steady either. You felt like you could cry it was all so much, but then, adding to your dismay, that was when Five pried himself away and you heard the sound of him starting to open his pants.

Opening your eyes, your entire body still pulsing in time to your frantic heartbeat, you were treated with faintest glint Five’s heartbreakingly infectious pale green eyes that never seemed to cease in their infinite power over you, that, and his long, hard dick in his hand as he slowly and methodically stroked it like a man that knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t care at all that he was killing you.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said while peering at you, still strung up, locked to the wall, unable to get away unless you screamed, ending all this madness of this for both of you.

Coming forward, the ends of Five's hair tickled your heated cheeks, his erection coming all the way to the height of your navel as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry. We’re almost done.”

Moving back so you could see all of it, his leisured motions as he massaged his cock, Five ran his hooked index finger round the tip, carefully spreading the moisture dripping out of him down his entire length, then he began to work himself in earnest, sliding his hand effortlessly over his shaft.

Just looking at him doing that made your insides throb all over again. Tiny shivers of satisfaction danced up your spine as a low growl resonated deep in Five’s throat.

The way he was looking at you as he pleasured himself spoke of so much without him uttering a word. There was a flicker in his eyes, something pained.

His breathing was becoming more labored as he gave himself over to the feel of his hand.

His thighs were tensed, holding him upright as the expensive wool fabric of his dress pants slouched to his knees. He was so beautiful.

“I’m- I'm almost there," he gasped. 

He came at you, whipping aside your skirt with his free hand, just in time for the milky white burst of cum that started to spill out of him. It spurt out, up onto your stomach, and between your legs, dripping down your thighs as he shuddered and grasped, erratically jerking his hand at his sensitive tip with the final jolts of his release.

When Five felt the final waves of tension in him ease to an end, he let go of his cock, but not before giving the thickly engorged length one final pump, that made his eyes fall shut.

Stumbling forward, he collapsed into you, shuddering all over again.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed while shakily wiping his forehead with his forearm.

“You can say that again,” you agreed as his face nuzzled against your neck.

Looking out of it, Five glanced down between you. Even in the darkness he could see what he’d done, his release glistening all over your body and clothes.

“That was not exactly what I meant to do to you,” he apologized, as he immediately reached over to the shelf, swiping a roll of paper down so he could start cleaning his cooling seed off your stomach and even some that had flung up between your breasts, leaving chalky stains on your black blouse that there was no way his efforts could remedy.

As Five attempted to erase the visible evidence of what he’d done, to you, his expression appeared to be a mixture of fascination and shame, and before seeing that look on one face, you weren’t even sure those two emotions could happen at the same time, but with Five, you were starting to realize anything was possible.

Throwing the soiled towels to the floor, he silently reached up, releasing you from your restraints. Still not letting you go, his warm fingers rubbed your wrists, so tenderly as he lowered your arms and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, everything about his behavior so unlike his urgent kisses and crazed demands from before. 

It felt so good to be worried over by him like that. He pulled you firmly against him, his chin resting on your shoulder. The hold he had on you felt possessive but also is heartbreakingly desperate as you both took in the uncertain afterglow of something neither of you could put to words.

After a few minutes, you tried to push away enough to look him in the eye, but the moment you did, Five turned away from you and popped the door open.

“Five, what’s wrong?”

Not answering you, he stepped out, then he stopped a few feet from the door and looked down at his shoes, with his dark hair falling over his face.

“Five, wait,” you snapped at him when he started to walk away again.

Mid-step, his hands clenched at his sides. “No. Go back to your room and change, then go straight upstairs and tell them you need to be transferred to another office,” he quietly said, then walked away.

Part Four: Not Five’s Dolores

You did go straight to your room like Five had told you to do, but you didn’t go upstairs and request a transfer. You ended up being late for the session Five was leading, thanks to having to change, and fix your tear-streaked makeup, and pull your head together enough to face him, but as it turned out, as the other trainees filled out of the conference room an hour later, he wasn’t even in there with them.

He'd bailed and another agent had led the class.

Over the next week, Five was nowhere to be seen, which meant you had no mentor and had to buddy up with your roommate and hers, a middle-aged guy who was not at all as easy on the eyes as Five, but at least he hadn’t ruined you. That was about the best thing you could say about Barry Carponelli and his questionable shirt stains paired with the oppressive smell of stale cigarettes that always seemed to be wafting off him.

Five did not smell like that. Five was…

Five was an asshole.

After another training session, sparring with Agent Smelly, you slung your gym bag over your shoulder, ready to be done with all of it.

“Hey, kid,” Barry called after you. You turned. “You know, before I came down here to teach you girls how to do more than those pansy ass moves Five is always doing in here with you, I heard someone say that smug little prick was finally back. If I took that many days off, I’d be fired. I have no idea why they put up with him. You’re better off without him,” he said, then plucked a smoke out of his pack and strolled past, leaving you filled with renewed purpose.

This wasn’t over until you said it was. Fuck Five.

Racing up the stairs to the admin offices, you went straight to Five’s door, just as his assistant Derek was coming out. “Is Five available,” you asked.

“No. He just left for the day,” the small statured blonde male answered, looking at you curiously. “Do you need me to leave him a message?”

“No,” you quickly replied, glancing at Five’s office door. “I think I left one of my notebooks in there the other day. Do you mind if I go in and look for it?”

“Go ahead,” Derek said, opening Five’s office door wide, making it clear he’d be keeping an eye on you.

Politely nodding your thanks, you went in, heading for the couch, but as soon as you heard Five’s assistant getting distracted by someone else, you darted for the desk.

Pulling on the drawers, you realized most were locked. “Shit,” you quietly cursed, looking around the clean surface of Five’s workspace, but then you saw it. Sticking out from under a paperweight that was shaped like an umbrella that had been turned backwards by the wind, you saw a piece of mail. It was personal. It was a bill with Five’s address on it.

You smiled. “Found you, you bastard.”

A few hours later, just before sunset, you were in a shady neighborhood that was not at all where you’d expected Five to live based on his job and his outward appearance being that of someone that looked like they had much higher standards than the rundown building you were standing in front of.

Going inside wasn’t much better. Since the elevator was broken, you had to step over countless piles of trash in the fire escape stairwell on your way up the fifth floor.

By the time you had gotten to his door, you were second guessing yourself.

Raising your hand to knock, you finally came to your senses. Confronting Five would do nothing to change what had happened. First thing in the morning, you would put in your transfer paperwork.

Then, just as you were lowering your hand and turning to leave, a tall curly-haired guy, several years older than you, or more, opened the door. He looked as startled as you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked you up and down.

“Tell them, I am not coming, and stop coming over without calling first! I told you I am fine!” Five yelled from somewhere in the apartment.

Saying nothing, the stranger looking back at you as he stood there wearing the strangest poncho made of bubble wrap, lifted a finger to his lips, silently motioning for you not to say anything, then he came out.

Once he’d shut the door, he said, “Hi. I am Klaus, Five’s brother. And you are?”

You said your name, and just as fast, his eyes lit up. “Right… I thought maybe it was you…” He grinned. “So…” He pulled his lips to the side. “I suppose you were here to tell off that angry little shit rat in there?”

“I was, but I changed my mind.”

“Since I’ve heard all about you, and I’m sure Five has told you all about me and the rest of his wonderful family, and your plans have changed, and it looks like neither of us have shit to do now, would you like to join me for a stroll to this really nice smoothie place a few blocks away? It’s got the best add-ins, like lemongrass and all sorts of other healthy crap that really boosts the old immune system and keeps the reaper away.”

Five told you nothing about Klaus and almost nothing about his personal life that didn’t relate directly back to his work at the CIA. He’d used you to get his rocks off and that was that, but you didn’t say that because something told you this peculiar Klaus guy already knew that his brother was a first class asshole..

Opening your mouth to decline, Klaus must have seen it coming, so he stuck out his bottom lip. “Pretty please… This neighborhood is scary, and I walked all the way over here to check in on that grumpy old man child and he’s being such a dick head, and I know something’s up with him other than his normal lonely mopey thing, but like always, he won’t talk about it. He’s always shutting us out and I know he likes you and something happened and-"

Taking a risk, you cut Klaus off. “You know what, I am in the mood from some anti-grim reaper juice.”

Giving you a toothy smile because he’d totally got you, the next thing you knew, you were being escorted down the street by Klaus Hargreeves, with him babbling on and on about things that seemed so far out there that they should have been part of a science fiction comic book rather than about what it was like growing up as part of something he called, The Umbrella Academy.

Hours later, after confirming Klaus was not on hallucinogenic drugs, or drunk, or just plain out of his mind, you had heard an earful and then some. After everything Five’s brother had told you, about them all being born with superpowers, their horrible alien father who adopted them, their  lives going to shit, to them all being stripped of their pasts and powers and left to fend for themselves in this new timeline, you didn’t know what to think.

It was clear that Klaus believed all of it. And he was very interested to hear your version about what had happened between you and Five, and when he did, like you’d suspected, he was not at all surprised by it.

“You’re the only one he’s ever done any of that with, and I mean like the only one, other than his plastic woman relationship thing. Five is not the bad person he thinks he is,” Klaus said, just before parting ways. “He’s just been through hell and back, over and over, and sometimes, I think he gets stuck not knowing how to move on from all that, you know…”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to think about any of this. What he’d said happened to Five was so bad, it was on another level of awful and unbelievable. Nobody would be okay after that, no matter how strong they were.

Piecing together the strange things Five had said to you, things like him being older than he looked, and that he’d done unredeemable things, it made sense now, but still…

Wow.

You did your best to act normal and not too weirded out. You liked Klaus. Klaus was the kind of person that was hard not to like, but it was hard not to be very weirded out.

Saying goodbye after you’d made sure Klaus was only a few blocks from his sister’s house, well out of the dangerous area of town that Five lived in, you were left alone again with your thoughts going haywire.

It was late, almost past midnight. Not even thinking about where you were heading, soon you were back, looking up at Five’s building.

Questioning your sanity, you lightly tapped on his door.

He didn’t come.

You knocked again, only louder.

A whole minute later and after several more knocks, startled and swaying as he flung his door open, Five blinked his eyes rapidly at you as if trying to clear his vision.

You looked down at the half-drained liquor bottle in his hand and the fuzzy dog slippers he had on his feet. To match his look of disheveled drunkenness, Five was wearing nothing but a dark blue bathrobe that came to just below his knees.  

“This was a very bad idea,” you said, under your breath, already turning to go.

Five’s voice cracked as he said your name. “…Please come back. I didn’t mean to-”

He wiped at his eyes.

Five took a small, very defeated looking breath. “I tried to leave you alone, but I just..”

“You just what?” you asked, coming back when he didn’t finish, stopping right in front of him with your fingers tapping at your hips.

Five held your accusing stare but just barely. “I just… I don’t deserve you and you could do a million times better than me.”

“Why because you’re a 63-year-old, ex-temporal assassin who’s stuck inside the body of an eighteen-year-old asshole who’s got his panties in a twist because he can’t teleport anymore?”

Forcing himself to stand up straighter even though it was clear that he was a drunk mess, Five swallowed, his face looking entirely serious. “Actually, we don’t call it teleporting. It’s called blinking, and you’re right, I can’t do that anymore, and if I wore panties, yes, they’d be in a twist about it.”

“Teleporting! Blinking! Five! What the hell difference does it make when I just walked into the twilight zone!”

Eyes wide, Five reached out, pulling you inside his apartment.

It was small, dimly lit, the furniture minimal. You could see almost all of it in just one quick glance. An outdated, beat-up kitchen on one side, two reading chairs next to an overflowing bookshelf made up his clean, but tiny living area. There was a bedroom door filled with darkness off to your left. Everything was old and used, but cozy looking. It was exactly the kind of unassuming hideaway you would have expected the extremely traumatized person Klaus had told you about would feel safe.

It was the embodiment of Five: the old man who’d cared about everyone else, but had given up on himself, and the innocent boy who’d been used and abused, who would never be able to stop fighting and hoping for a chance at something better.

“Do you believe it? Everything Klaus told you?” Five asked, looking at you with glossy eyes.

“I do.”

“Then why are you here?”

Pointing to the chair you were pretty sure Five had been sitting in based on the way the other looked like nobody ever sat in it, you let out a loud exhale. “Sit,” you ordered.

Five turned and stumbled back to his chair, dropping down in it clumsily, where he proceeded to almost spill his liquor, then slumped like a sad child that had just been told to go sit in the corner.

Coming over, kneeling in front of him, Five tried to put his legs together before you could position your body in a way that prevented it, but he didn’t move at all fast enough.

“Not this is how it’s going to go,” you said, gripping his knees. “I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth. Do you understand?”

Five nodded.

“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“What kind?” you countered.

“The kind that I shouldn’t have.”

You shook your head and spread his knees farther apart, making his terry cloth robe spread, exposing the snow-white skin of his inner thighs. “Elaborate,” you pushed. From what you could tell, Five wasn’t wearing any panties, just like he’d said. He wasn’t wearing anything.

The line between his eyes deepened as he answered you. “I have the kind of feelings for you that make me wish I was someone you could love.”

Slowly, you started moving your hands from his knees, heading under his robe, stopping just shy of the danger zone. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, Five. I can think for myself, but if you decide to push me away, that’s on you.”

Again, he nodded.

“I like you, Five and that means the you that I thought I knew but then decided to fuck things up and make me cry my eyes out.” You smiled even though that made him look even more miserable. “And I like that frisky old man in you that you’ve been trying and failing to keep hidden. Both are good men even if they act like jerk offs sometimes.”

A tear slipped down Five’s reddened cheek.

“You say you don’t deserve it, but I think, from what I’ve heard, you deserve the world, Five Hargreeeves.”

Five looked down at his lap, holding his breath.

Very carefully, your hand moved over him, gathering the silky length of flesh descended between his legs, lovingly fondling him.

“You need to realize that it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you’ve lost. You’re still worthy of love, and even if you weren’t and all that crazy shit your brother told me turned up to be some kind of dream I’d had in a moment of insanity while wallowing over you as I drank a delicious smoothie, I’d still want you. Even if you looked like the white-haired man grumping around up there in your head, I’d want you because under it all, you are sweet and kind and too smart for your own good and all kinds of scary sexy and I like all of that.”

As you relished in the feel of him getting hard, Five looked utterly defenseless even though you knew that was far from the truth. His tear-filled gaze was lazy and appreciative as he gazed at you, lying your heart out to him as you stroked his ego and his cock.

“Do you still want me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

You brushed aside the rest of Five’s bunched-up, funny old man robe, then came forward, resting your forearms on his warm thighs. Your hand tightened around his cock and kept moving as you looked up at him, his eyes looking droopy as his head rolled to one side.

“You don’t have to do-” Five started, but before he could finish what he was going to say, you were nuzzling him, your face at the crook of his leg and torso, tenderly kissing him there before you slowed your hand to a stop and licked the length of his dick, from the base to the tip, like it was the best thing you’d ever had in her face.

Five shivered.

Without hesitation, you started to suck, slowly running your tongue around and around the drip of translucent fluid that had already started leaking out of him.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed as you tasted him, the smooth pattern of your mouth moving over him, making Five grasp at his armrests as he tried and failed to bite back a broken moan.

Your contented humming continued as you let your tongue spread the wetness so you could push your mouth down, taking in more of him. Feeling the vibrations from your throat, Five’s head dropped back against his chair. He reached down with his left hand, shakily brushing your hair to the side so he could watch you sucking him off.

When your mouth met your fingers, you stopped working downward and began to move your head back up, never letting up with your tight lips or your tongue as it pressed along his length.

“Oh shit, that feels good!” Five whispered, his fingers moving through your hair as he very tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head. More soft curses came out of him on quickening breaths as you buried your nose in the small tuft of dark hair between his legs, taking him until your nose hit his pubic bone.

Gripping you tighter, holding you there and finding no resistance, Five deliriously questioned, “Are you sure this is okay?”

The second he let up, your head bobbed, your mouth making the most perfectly erotic squelching sounds as tears started to run down your red cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.

The sight of him breaking you, but not, and you letting him do it, and the feeling of you loving him like this even at his lowest, sent what was left of Five’s restraint out the door.

Straining not to push you too much, Five’s hips started rocking upwards as you latched on to his upper leg with your other hand, supporting yourself as he pushed his cock deep, sending himself down your throat each time he rolled and fucked his body up into your mouth.

He was the one mostly dictating the speed and depth of each thrust, and the act was brutally degrading, but you didn't seem to care. Even the sound of you forcing your breaths through your nose was a turn on, and Five had to force myself not to say the string of dirty praises he had running through his head.

“I’m so... cl-close,” he stammered instead, in-between hardly contained grunts of the word fuck while forcing your head down and up again.

With his heels digging into the floor for leverage to lift him with each jerk of his hips, something in Five felt like it was shattering.

He took you all the way to the hilt again, holding you there until you started gagging and digging your nails into his leg. Then he did it again, and again.

Overwhelmed by what he was doing and how sick it was of him that he wanted to feel and see you struggle like that, in between thrusts, he let out sob like cries of thank you, and please, and fuck, and with those desperate words helplessly coming out of him, that deep seated feeling in his stomach that followed was impossible to ignore.

“I’m gonna come,” Five wept as he fisted your hair and frantically pumped himself in and out of your mouth as he began to ejaculate down your throat.

He kept incoherently moaning as his hips thrust in angry bursts of momentum.

When his body was done and his shudders had ceased, dizzy enough that the room felt like it was spinning, Five finally let go of you and you fell back on your heels, whipping at the line drool that had dripped from your mouth. You looked up at him, your nose a little runny and your eyes still wet, but somehow you still managed to smile for him and that broke Five even more.

Reaching out, Five ran his thumb across your cheek, collecting a remaining tear before his hand flopped to his side again. “I am so sorry for everything,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back as you covered him back up, pulling his robe around him like he was helpless, which he was. When you walked to his bedroom and he didn’t follow because he was physically incapable at that moment, Five didn’t get to see your smile, but as you looked around in the dark at his boyishly blue quilt and saw the small, worn stuffed animal puppy dog lying on his bed, you knew once again that you weren’t wrong about him.

Snatching up a blanket that was neatly folded and placed by his pillow, you came back out, laying it over him.

Leaning in, you brushed Five’s hair from his forehead before you kissed his cooling skin, then you tiptoed away again. Turning back as you placed your hand on the doorknob, you saw him sleepily watching you, clearly wanting to say something, but like so often, not being able to find the right words.

“Goodnight, Five,” you said, then you left.

Part Five: Perfectly Wrong

The next day, the second you entered his office, Five rushed to the door, locking it, then he grabbed you by the waist, tugging you closer. “Where the hell have you been, I have been losing my mind up here,” he declared while lowering his head to yours, bringing your faces within a whisper's length. 

“I have been working, that’s why I’m here, remember?” You laughed then said, “I wasn’t scheduled to meet with you until afternoon.” You looked at the clock then smiled. “Which is right now.”

Five didn’t look satisfied with that, so you kissed him, then pulled away, leaving him cutely puckering at air with his dark lashes fanning his cheeks so handsomely.

“For a man that once could control time, you seem very confused about how it works,” you teased.

“No shit. If that isn’t the understatement of the year,” he smarted back while giving you an adorable smirk. “I am impatient, impossible to deal with, and so horny for you that they should lock me up to protect you. All that made me think you’d changed your mind about me, that or I’d dreamed you coming to my apartment last night to tell me off, but then, instead, I ended up getting the first blow job of my long pathetic life and finished that mind blowing experience by getting tucked into my recliner like the big baby invalid I am.”

“I didn’t change my mind about you, and you didn’t dream that. I still like you, and our totally taboo, mentor fucking with his student, scandalizing age gapped, dirty talking, panty wetting, dry humping, cry fest of a relationship we have. Speaking of my training and it being your job to see to it that I succeed, I can’t quite understand how things work around here as they relate to my future and what they expect out of me as a fully sworn in agent.”

“Oh...? You read the 3000 page mission statement, but you still need my help figuring that out?” Five offered back, playing along.

You leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear. “I do. Will you help me?” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Five breathed back, nudging your nose with his to make you smile as he peered at you through the strands of his hair that had just fallen in his face.

“Maybe you could lay it all out for me, right here on the top of your desk? Show me how you navigate all these complicated protocols and endless hours of typing up boring intelligence reports. With all the talking and writing up briefings, your fingers and mouth must get so tired. I know mine do. What then? What other tools do you have on you to get you through those super hard, long days?”

Five tipped you back on his desk, his hands moving down your back to support you until you were resting on your elbows. “As a fully sworn in agent, I steer myself around any obstacles in my way, ruthlessly and rudely ignoring anything and anyone that dares to get in my way.” He pushed the bulge forming in his pants between your legs. “When it comes to protocols, I throw them out the window and do what I want because I have never been good at following anyone’s rules but my own. And when I get tired of talking and my fingers get fatigued from all the typing, I say fuck it and really start breaking the rules and let my dick do the talking for me, proving why it was a very bad idea to make me your mentor and that I’m a huge pervert. Would you like me to elaborate on that?”

“Yes,” you said, burying your fingers in Five’s hair, using it as an anchor to draw his mouth to yours as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders while trapping him with your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hands under your bottom, Five pulled you closer to his need, brushing his face at your neck as he sucked on and kissed, his warm breaths tickling your skin.

“Tell me what you want. I mean it, I’d do anything for you,” Five insisted, all teasing aside, speaking into your skin as you gripped his firm backside and fooled around with his hair in that way he loved.

“Because you're a bad boy and I am a very bad girl, I want you to break all the rules with me right now,” you whispered. 

Five let go of your hips where his hands had been rhythmically tugging you against him.

“Jeez-us, fuck you are trouble,” he breathlessly hissed as you reached down and started undoing his pants.

Five couldn’t contain his groan as you pulled his dick out and started to rub him. You flashed him your teeth as you smiled, enjoying yourself immensely as he careened into your grasp.

Giving you the hardest look he could muster considering what you were doing to him, Five pulled your hands away, guiding them both back behind you so he could press them down on his desk, under the pressure of his palms.

“Leave them here,” he sternly ordered, though there was no holding back his amused smile.

You nodded while sucking in your bottom lip as you coyly looked up at him from underneath your lashes.

Once Five was sure you were going to stay put, he let go of your hands, then he pressed himself closer to you again while bracing you from behind with one hand, bringing the other between your legs, yanking your panties aside.

As his fingers slid inside you, you dropped your head back, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re really all in?” he asked, knowing you were, only wanting to hear you say it again.

“Yes, Five. I want all of you,” you begged, as you looked down at his cock, then up at him distraughtly.

Gripping himself, Five slipped his fingers out of you, replacing them with the softness of skin on skin and the warm, girthy head of his cock, gliding it back and forth as he wet himself at your entrance, then prodded and rubbed against your clit, back and forth.

“Fuck me, you're amazing,” Five cursed, unable to contain it when he finally felt what it was like to do this with his bare cock slicked against a body that was warm and forgiving.

He rocked himself against you, marveling over the simple pleasure of it, and he could have probably been held rapt forever by just that, but you’d said you wanted it all, and fuck..so did he.

“Are we okay like this?” he asked, meaning without protection.

“Yes, please…fuck yes!" you moaned, and he swore the look on your face could have killed a lesser man.

Getting the go ahead, Five ran his cock through your folds again, making sure he was wet enough to enter you. Then, carefully, drawing it out with a slow steady motion, he started pushing himself into you. Your warm walls clenched around his rounded tip, fighting it, but you didn't tell him to stop, so he moved inside deeper, whimpering because it felt so good to finally feel what this was like.

With Five’s thick cock opening you wider than it seemed possible, you threw your head back, panting his name and assurances to keep going, forcing your body to accept him. Feeling your tightness quivering around his length, unable to contain himself any longer, Five slowly started to move in and out, watching your face carefully for any signs of pain.

Once it was clear that he wasn’t hurting you, he smiled darkly, then very lowly warned, "Be quiet, or I’ll give you a reason to get really loud and then we both will have to start looking for new jobs.” 

Immediately going faster, his hips thwacking against you harder and harder, Five leaned forward over you again, kissing the exposed area of your neck and upper shoulder. 

When you let out a loud gasp, his hand flew over your mouth, then he increased the pace and angle of hips, rolling them in and out, fucking to a softer rhythm that felt so fucking good and made him look even more like he was the God of fuck he was.

“You are so fucking tight. This feels so…fuck,” he breathed before whipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. As if he wasn’t doing you just fine already, hoisting your legs up a little more, Five pulled himself out a little, attentively working his tip in a way that pushed upwards, increasing the pressure building inside you in a way that made your head rolled back on your shoulders and your legs around his waist go limp.

“Oh, fuck, Five, yes, like that,” you cried out from under his hand.

“I fucking love you so much,” he moaned back, his eyes on yours as he bore down on you.

His dick pumping back and forth inside you even faster, Five’s brain took a second or two to catch up to what he’d just said. Breaking out in a sweat, his hand coming off your mouth, letting you breathe, he suddenly looked horrified, but that was only until you began to wildly thrust yourself back against him, using your ankles by digging them into his back.

Your fingernails tore into his back through his vest and dress shirt as he pushed his tongue against yours.

Slipping farther and farther into subspace every time his cock barred inside you, the more intense the lightning storm inside him got. His thoughts had grown hazy, and all Five knew was he was in heaven. 

He was slamming into you, harder and harder, and all you could do was hold on, keeping yourself locked to him as you clung to the sides of his desk. You felt that sweet aching pressure down in your lower abdomen. Your back arched. You felt your heart pounding between your legs as Five began to come violently cum, his cock throbbing inside of you as he fell into stuttering movements, having been totally taken off guard by the intensity with how hard the height of his pleasure hit him.

The scent of his cum in the air, of sweat gathering on your bodies and the sound of your heavy breathing, the sounds of your lover’s kisses returning to your lips, urgent, insistent, desperate….

It was perfect.

Five didn’t stop working his hips, pulling his cock in and out of you. Bringing his hand between your legs, all it took was the slightest touch of his fingers getting into the game and a few more pumps of his hips, making his cum drizzle hotly out of you onto his desk and you were falling apart, your body trembling through your equally intense release.

Slowing to a stop, Five smiled into your neck, slowly kissing you as he ran his hand down your side. He didn’t want to pull away, but he also didn’t want to force you to stay like that, spread out with him heedlessly leaning between your legs. On top of that, he could hear Derek talking just outside his door.

After a moment more of proudly grinning over what had just happened, he pulled away.

“Are you sure about me?” he asked, uncertain, yet playing it like a joke, not so brazen and sure of himself when you weren’t withering against him.

“I am sure, and that was, holy fucking wow, Five,” you praised, as you reached out, tenderly brushing back a piece of his hair that had stuck to his forehead.

Five’s ego was quickly restored. You always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it. It was as if you understood him better than he understood himself and you were ok with who he was even when he wasn’t.

“You are making this way too easy for me,” he pointed out. 

“I ah… I should probably go,” you said as you grinned at him, momentarily distracted as he looked down at your legs dangling around his. He was so fucking hot.

“Shoot,” he laughed, rolling his eyes to his ceiling, then back to yours. “I meant to show you that my mouth is good for more than delivering sarcastically slights and even better clever commentary. Maybe there’s still time,” he teased, hands moving under your legs as he lowered himself, about to throw your legs over his shoulders and bury his face between the mess he’d made between your legs.

Derek knocked on the door.

“Fuck,” he laughed, jumping up, swinging your legs together, whipping you upright like you weighed nothing. His jaw pumped in agitation but that didn’t change his massive smile. “As much as I hate it, we really need to save that lesson for another time. Not that I care if I get fired, it’s just…You know,” he rambled, racing to zip up his pants and tuck his shirt back in.

“Another time then,” you chirped as you scooted off his desk, your heels landing softly on the floor.

As Five went to the door, unlocking it, before Derek tried to open it and come in, you came up behind him, hugging him from behind, your cheek falling against his as he tried to turn back. “I love you too, Five,” you whispered, then let him go just as the door started to open.

Stepping past Derek, you looked over your shoulder at Five, and said, “Thanks again for helping me, ahh…with figuring all that out.”

“Anytime. That’s what I am here for,” Five replied, his hand running over his mouth to hide his wicked grin.

As Derek looked at him in question, clearly aware that something was up, totally smitten, Five took the file he was handing him, but his eyes remained glued to you.

“It looks like those few days off did you some good. Are you feeling better?” Derek questioned, as he looked over at the papers pushed off of Five’s desk that were now laying on the floor. He smiled. 

“Yes, much better,” Five breathed, coming to his senses, but only after you’d turned the corner, blowing him a secret kiss.

For the first time in his life, Five knew what it was like to feel the love he’d always longed for, and it was all because of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~As always, thanks for reading. Let me know if you liked this. ❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[fractualized]

I talked about the first issue of Robin Lives! and my high hopes for it, but when #2 & 3 came around, I didn't have the time to post about them.

But this final issue… uh… Let's get into it. ("It" including gun violence and suicidal ideations.)

So as a brief recap: at the end of #3, Jason found Joker's hideout but froze when confronting him, and Joker decided to solve his Robin problem by mind-manipulating him to be a sidekick of his own: Jokey the Boy Lackey.

In #4, Joker takes his new pal to go after Dr. Stoner.

In #2, Joker pretended to be reformed but Stoner didn't buy it, expressing disappointment, which only set Joker off. And that anger reappears here, less about the offense of some nobody little man pitying him and more about insisting that nobody could actually care about the criminally insane. Of course, this scene comes off more like Joker punishing Stoner for caring— or rather, getting Jason to.

But whatever control Joker had over Jason doesn't hold.

Interesting that Joker leaves Jason alive, and Stoner too. Also, Jason is still awake in this scene, so Joker is truly not worried about him.

Compare this interaction to the opening of #3, in which Joker imagines he's watching films of old comedians with Batman, who is having a great time, and that fantasy is interrupted by an imaginary Robin, who makes fun of Joker's sense of humor. Did Joker decide that since trying to kill Robin had too many downstream effects, he should try to bring him into the joke instead? And then confronted with the real Robin's disdain for him, Joker lashes out to make him feel small? In any case, Robin has proven himself a poor fit for Joker's plans, unlike Batman.

Joker returns to his hideout to get his supplies, and he leaves a note for Batman not only with a clue to his whereabouts, but explicitly letting him know that he let Robin go!

Again with the signals that Joker regrets almost changing the game. (Though he still has, considering what happened to Barbara, which is never mentioned in this miniseries, which is disappointing. In all the brooding in #2 & 3, it's not like there wasn't room for it.)

Anyway, Bruce pulls that move where he works with a sidekick just fine until it gets too dangerous.

While Bruce goes to meet Joker, we learn that Jason has been stewing in humiliation and has had enough.

And the narration gives the first signal of how the storytelling in the last quarter of this issue is gonna go. lol

Oh, so you couldn't think of anything plausible? Anything at all? Not even, I dunno, Joker boasting to Jokey about his plan, or Jason catching sight of a map when he was in the hideout? Alright.

Anyway, Bruce finds Joker in the Miagani caves, home to the particular bat left with the note. Joker has figured out a frequency that allows him to control the bats, and he's also infected them with a psychoactive agent that he wants to unleash on Gotham.

UNLESS….

A proposal?! 😍

So it's either a swarm of infected bats or one infected Bat. Batman should forget about the dang kid, who just doesn't get the joke like they do, and join Joker!

Jason disagrees with this, which he demonstrates by popping up and shooting Joker in the chest. But we've known since #1 this doesn't end in a chest shot.

Farewell, sad clown. :(

So like Joker not planning to kill Jason, his expressions say that not only did he not expect Jason to follow through, but he was relieved when the kid did. Compare this scene to #1 when Bruce almost let him drown. Joker looked only distressed then; with Batman, he needs the game to go on. But Jason finally brings the compulsion to a stop, forever.

Bruce, of course, is upset, and he was not planning to drink Joker's toxin.

That face kills me

"WHATCHA GONNA DO OLD MAN"

When Bruce gets up to the ledge, Jason is gone. And while Arkhamverse Bruce nicely carried Joker's body out of Monarch Theater, here he seems to simply panic, per the first panel below. Which is quickly followed by a lot of shit that sure seems too easy??

Alert, alert! 🚨 WFA has breached containment again!🚨

There are versions of this that I could buy. None of those versions have Bruce simply hugging out Joker's murder within hours of him dying.

The next three pages are an unbelievable speedrun of the aftermath. Let's go one by one.

The Three Jokers-esque rundown of why Jason couldn't be held accountable for Joker's death is all fair enough. And it is in character for Bruce to take the blame for Joker's death, and boy howdy does it make the batjokes feels dance when Joker's death prompts the death of the Batman persona.

But Bruce putting all his bad bat-decisions into the dead persona doesn't really reckon with him having made all those decisions. In an earlier issue, Sara notes that Batman was a fantasy Bruce used to run away from facing his pain, and him now running into his parents' roles just feels like the same thing.

Also being told that Jason was "nearly catatonic" and not showing it is just odd.

Next page!

This page is also weird. I suppose if the logic is that Bruce's sin was bringing a child into the vigilante life and he needed to give up the cowl to atone… No, it's still weird, because Dick was also a child brought into that fight. Just writing him off as already damaged goods so Batman can stay around feels like it undermines the meaning of Bruce retiring.

I'm setting aside whether or not Dick would really want to be Batman, because I don't have a dog in that fight. But making him a Bruce clone does not feel right.

Maybe that's the point, though?? That the cycle is just starting all over again, inescapable? Is this just TKJ? 🤔

Before we follow that line of thinking, next page!

Ohhhhhhh, poor Sara. I thought you could still get out of this as a confidante. But no, you're the narrator and you're so familiar with Bruce and his family because you're ✨in love✨ now. We didn't have to do this. There's literally no point to making her a romantic interest. Sure, I can see going with her instead of an established one because they're all in the crime game and Bruce is escaping that here, but still. And don't tell me "it took years" in an attempt to gloss over how we don't even know this lady. WE DON'T KNOW THIS LADY. This development feels tacked on. I hate it.

Though I mean, Bruce only falls in love after Joker is dead. That's something. 😂

And then we have Jason getting multiple degrees related to mental health care and eventually becoming a higher up at Arkham Asylum. Way different than the Jason Todd of today, but hey, this is an alternate universe and—

what

WHAT?

Uh… 🎵 Cue game show music! 🎶 Congrats to the jaydick fans out there! You are the next batjokes!

I have no idea what to think here. You could theorize that Joker's brainwashing lingered, I guess, and influenced Jason to take his place later. Or perhaps that Jason studying mental health made him ponder the Joker too much and he "infected" himself with his late tormenter? Or are Batman and Joker truly inevitable in any universe and Jason is just helplessly compelled to take on the role?

I don't know! This all was going so well and then it just ends with a bunch of stuff that happens!

I wonder if it was always supposed to end this way? I reread all the issues today, and some of the narration is strange if #4 is indicating that the Sara telling this story exists at a point where she knows that Jason is now Joker. Like some of it you read and think, "Ohhh, the inevitability here isn't about Jason shooting Joker; it's about Jason becoming Joker." But then other parts conflict with that, like in #3 when Sara talks about Jason feeling like it's impossible to victimize others, as if it's a present fact. Clearly he does not feel that way!

Also, at the end of #3 when we saw Jokey, I was excited at the prospect of Joker seeing himself in Jason, and perhaps vice versa, and the emotional struggle that direct compare/contrast could bring. And the first couple pages get at that a little, I guess? But certainly not enough that the final two pages aren't completely out of the blue.

You could say that since Jason takes on Joker's old identity as Red Hood, he's just doing the same again here, but there's still no lead-up to it!

In the end, I guess this is just a sad story about how even when Bruce breaks away from his violent coping mechanism to really promote healing, he still fucked over his kids and it's just too late? I mean, fair enough, but still. Could've used one of those big exposition pages to at least drive more at that. 🤷‍♀️

The next mini-series I'm pinning my hopes on is the Two-Face one in December. Christian Ward stuck the landing in City of Madness, so let's see if he can do it again!

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 8

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7

"Alexandre, is back in the family." Matthew says as you sit on your balcony, sipping wine to help relieve the stress you've just experienced.

"Nice," you mumble taking another sip and looking at him from behind your glasses. He's changed so much recently, more tensed and stressed. He's been so full of anger and lost compassion that you simply don't understand.

"What's going on with you!" He lifts his voice and you don't even lift your gaze. He's angry but there's nothing that could get you more pissed than you already were. The people who hated the Chevaliers were working their way through history and you were giggling at the sidelines.

"Your brother just flipped his car and nearly died. You're so stuck up and arrogant that you don't even go and visit him and just sit here going on about business, THAT'S WHAT'S FUCKING WRONG WITH ME!" You shout at him.

"All you care about if your doing well in daddy's business. Not once did you stop and think about anyone around you, even your own brother's. Matthew, history from ten years ago is getting pulled back up from the grave and you should care about not getting caught by a lose thread!' And with that your gone. As you storm off as you shove past Penelope.

------

These people cared for no one at all. All they cared about was money. You don't know how you got yourself so deep into this drama but you don't want to know, but one thing you learned is that the only way to survive is to thrive by yourself.

You run down as fast as your legs can carry you. Your dad was called down to the police station along with other team members with no reason for the explanation behind it.

You pull out your badge and guards approve your entering and sadly the first person you lay on is the last you would've wanted. "Matthew."

Matthew, was your father's lawyer, family business brings close and yet that so-called lawyer is actually your ex. You haven't seen him ever since you left, from what you heard he went for rehab and it showed. He didn't seem sloppy and drowsy anymore, he had composure. He stood up straight, eyes not bloodshot and looked like the Matt you knew.

"Y/N."

He could not believe his eyes. The woman he had loved for all those years and the same woman that left him was now standing right in front of him, ready to hear news about her father.

"Hi." You both say in sync , causing the two of you to let out a laugh. Your laugh was one of the finest you've ever given off, you're far from happy to see this man and no act could fake it. It broke the thick and tense silence as you asked, "What happened with my dad?"

He looked down at you and pulled out a bunch of paper while pointing and explaining, "They pulled evidence from back years, then forged them together and got this mess." It sure was a mess, each line being more fake and unrealistic from the other.

Your father would never do such things and never did, he has worked honestly and fairly and whoever was doing this to him would surely pay.

"Can I-"

"Hey, Cobra!" A voice from behind you calls as the tall, muscular, blonde, green eyed Texan runs up beside you. He kisses your cheek lightly as Matthew hunts him down with his gaze. Horrible timing Hangman.

"Who's this?" Jake asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. These actions are getting stared at by Matthew as if he was a hawk hunting his prey. "Matt, this is Jake my partner. Jake, this is Kai's dad Matthew."

If you ever seen a cartoon character lose colour in milliseconds there was no better way of describing Jake. All the colour drained from his face, he went all pale and stiff, while shaking as he held his hand out.

Matthew stared at Jake's put out hand and ignored it, slightly shoving past it as he tells you. "They don't have anything solid on him, don't worry. Excuse me, I have to go see my client." He shoved past Jake whispering in his ear as he walked past. "If I were in your place I'd leave my family alone."

Jake got the biggest chills of his whole life. Your ex was, Matthew Chevalier. Nicely putting it, he was done for.

"You didn't tell me HE was Kai's dad. Wait! So you're-" You've heard this sentence more than you could count in your life, exactly the words used on the phonecall.

"Madame Chevalier or Lady, whatever you wanna call it." You sigh, pulling your head back and putting it back down to lock eyes with Jake. You stare at his green eyes for just a moment and then lean in to plant a kiss upon his lips. You wrap your hands gently around his neck, twirling his hair lightly as your lips perform a sort of dance. You pull back and look Jake in the eyes.

"As much as I hate him he's still Kai's father and a damn good lawyer, that's all that matters."

-------

You enter the white room where Romain lay. His neck was injured and in a brace and his arm was in a cast. He looked so powerless. In this moment he looked as if he lost all the authority he's ever had.

You walk toward the hospital bed and sit down on the small chair beside him. A tear slips from your eye as you watch him in such a state. Out of all the Chevaliers he was the only one with dignity and a heart and this all happened because his dad kicked him out for loving a man and not Grace.

"Hey," you say, putting his free hand in yours as he looks at you. A tear leaves his eye as he lays his sight upon you. You felt horrible for him. He didn't deserve this, not at all.

"Y/N, I-i-i-i." You shush him already knowing what he was going to say. The Fortuny family ended in such a way and now he did the same but if it wasn't for Olivia he'd already be dead.

"Romain, their death wasn't in your hands."

------

You lay on your couch as Kai insisted on walking Jake's dog with him, and there was no way you could deny it. The blanket lay only upon your feet as you curled yourself up into a ball.

Matthew was sober and back into his ordinary life. He was sober and in a brilliant state, he was influenced and trusted and most importantly out of all, he found you. Matthew had the right to fight for Kai if he wished to.

Kai was his son after all and the only reason you left was due to the struggles that your relationship pushed. You quickly got divorced papers and signed them and immediately left the continent let alone the country.

You earlier pulled out a glass of champagne, but now you've ended up in the middle of chugging the whole bottle. Your ex husband is in town, meaning he could tear you down for what you did. He could easily get rid of you for what you've done.

"MOMMY!" Kai's voice echoed through the apartment as they returned from their walk. You place the champagne bottle down onto the glass, black coffee table and sit up properly from your previous egg position.

The second Jake had taken off your son's shoes, the little boy ran to you and sat beside you before you pulled him into your lap. "Mommy, can I stay up with the doggy?" The little boy enforced one of the fittest pouting lips you've ever seen but you couldn't say yes, not tonight.

"I'm sorry baby, bed now. You've taken a bath earlier and went out in your PJ's so you're perfectly ready for a night snooze." Kai groans as Jake appears leaning against the living room doorframe with the young energetic dog at his feet.

"Your mommy's right buddy, you'll still have time to play tomorrow." You look up at Jake and smile before standing up with Kai on your hip.

You carry him over to Jake where your boyfriend happily relieves your arms from your son, carrying him to his room to put him down.

- Once Jake re-entered he found you leaning against the kitchen counter, head pointing downwards as you took deep breaths.

There were silent tears streaming down your face when the flashback of the papers went through your head. You let out a little sob not being able to contain yourself and that's when Jake noticed you crying.

"Noo angel, don't cry. I'm here now everything is ok," at that you get up to face him gently wrapping your arms around him and sobbing into his chest.

"Shhhh baby, it's okay. I'm here."

"It's just that when I left I never had to s-s-see him aga-" you could even finish the sentence with your shaking. You were having another panic attack. You haven't had one in ages but Jake knew this wouldn't end well if you didn't relax and take a breath.

"Look at me angel," he commands softly, not trying to be ruff or rude but in a way to get you to listen.

You raze your gaze to him as your glassy eyes spill again and you start hiccuping softly.

"Now, see angel. I'm here, okay? I'm fine and I'm with you so let's keep the past to the past and now everything is okay," he says pulling you in gently.

Your son's slowed down as you started taking deep, slowed down breaths. "I don't want him here. I want him gone, for good this time!" You choke out before reburying yourself in Jake's chest. You want Matthew dead.

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[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 4 (Steddie X Reader)

A/N: I hope you guys are having a good fathers day <3.

Warnings: Dom security guard Steddie X female singer reader; Light Smut (heavy dirty talk, fingering), fluff, with angst, Y/N struggles with memories of her past and feeling like a disappoint with her family, agent, and exes. Themes of dealing with addiction (drugs and alcohol) , brief mention of domestic violence, the guys share with the reader some of their history when it comes to their dads (as a way to relate to her), reader talks about rehab and AA (mentions of relapses), she does have a panic attack but what triggers it isn't mentioned in detail just what she's feeling

Word Count: 4833

For the first time in a long while, you woke up naturally in a bed. You didn’t shoot up from a nightmare or open your eyes to blurred images and a headache. This time when you opened them you were met with Eddie’s gorgeous, sleeping face. His head was tilted towards yours as he laid flat on his back, one hand strewn over his bare stomach and the other between you two holding your hand.

Carefully, you turned your head to see Steve still passed out behind you, the hair on his chest lightly grazing your back as he breathed. The back of your knees were still curved around his and his arm slung over your waist. 

Slithering out of their hold, you quietly tiptoed to your own room and grabbed your phone. 

“What happened? What broke?”, Sarah answered immediately prepared for the worst.

“No. Hey. Nothing happened. I, um, I wanted to ask you for a favor but I’m not sure if you can do it. I mean it’s probably something I’d have to ask Jack for but I trust you more than him and I want to keep this as close to the chest as possible.”

“Huh. Okay…what do you need?”

You get up and poke your head out of your bedroom to make sure the guys were still sleeping. 

“I, um, I know I’m on tour so I can’t really check into rehab. I mean…I guess I could but…I was wondering if maybe…I could have like a rehab AA counselor or something to tour with me.” There was complete silence on the other side to your request. “Sarah? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m…still here. I’m just… wow. I’m really proud of you. Ok, yeah, let me see what I can do. I’ll call you when I have something.”

“Thank you so much. Can you keep this between us for right now?”

“Of course. What, may I ask, brought on this sudden change?”

“Um…new people in my life, I guess. I just want to be better.”

***

You three barely had any time to talk about last night since the concert was tonight. As soon as you hung up with Sarah, you were immediately ushered down to the venue with Mark hot on your trail. You insisted you had to wake them up to come with you but he insisted you’d be fine. You texted them apologizing and let them know where you were. 

Fifteen minutes later, they were sauntering down an aisle and jumping onto the stage. Eddie silently handed you some coffee and you politely thanked him as you watched Steve casually head for the director. 

“Hey, Mark.”

“Hey, Steve. I’m a little bit busy right now.”

“Yeah no. We’ll get out of your way here. I just have one question. The schedule you gave us for these three days doesn’t have Y/N doing rehearsal until this afternoon.”

“Yeah but something came up and we need to make sure EVERYTHING is just right.”

“Ok, but she hasn’t even had time to shower or anything. Plus, and more importantly, you didn’t tell us about this sudden change. You took her without notifying us.”

“I didn’t know I needed to clear things with her nannies.”, Mark responded sarcastically.

Steve chuckled under his breath as he glanced at Eddie who grinned as he shrugged. The man stepped forward, forcing the director to face him. “Our primary focus, Mr. Lightman, is to keep that girl safe. How can we do that if we don’t know where she is or where she’s going to be?”

“Look, I—”

Steve gripped his collar, pulling him closer to his face. “Now, if you need to make changes, that’s fine. We get that. But we need to know about them, okay? Am I making myself clear here, Mark?”

“Y-yes.”

“Very good. I mean, really, it’s just the respectful thing to do, right?” The man nods his head as the other pushes him away. “Thank you very much. Please continue what you were doing.”

The director’s eyes follow him as he heads towards you. 

“Look at you being all mean and scary.”, you smile up at him. “I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t frighten you guys. I told him we needed to wake you up but…”

“Hey. It’s ok.” Eddie’s fingers gently traced down your arm. “Thank you for texting us and letting us know. I’msorry you couldn’t take a shower or anything.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I can run back to my room during our lunch break and do it then. When I was first getting started, we could barely afford hotels let alone nice ones so sometimes the showers didn’t even work.”, you laugh. “Probably why I looked so grungy that first year.”

#########

That night was definitely a new experience for the boys. They had never guarded someone as famous as you so to be in front of the stage facing thousands of screaming people was slightly intimidating.

“God, you guys have been so great!”, you giggle into the microphone. “I do have something kind of new here. I’ve been working on playing my guitar again.” Steve watches as someone runs on stage to hand you an instrument. “I’m, um, sure you guys have read the tabloids about me and know sometimes I can be a bit…sassy.”

Eddie smirks at your comment as his eyes scan the crowd in front of him. 

“I snapped at a couple of people who, honestly, just have my best interest in mind so… I learned a song from a band I know one of these people likes. I don’t know, have you guys ever heard of Metallica?”

The audience cheers as both men turn their attention to you. Your fingers begin to slowly play and the metalhead becomes lost in your voice.

“Never opened myself this way Life is ours, we live it our way All these words, I don't just say And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you Every day for us something new Open mind for a different view And nothing else matters…”

The man couldn’t deny that the first time he met you, he hated you. More than anything he hated your attitude. The more he got to know you and saw who you were underneath that wall of armor you called sass, he really started to fall for you; both he and Steve. 

Like Eddie, Steve felt this strong need to take care of you and keep you safe. Not just because it was their job but because they genuinely wanted to. They loved seeing you happy, wanting to do whatever they could to keep that smile on your face that beamed down at them from the stage. 

This wasn’t just sex for them and they hoped it wasn’t for you either. They understood you needed to take things slow and were willing to do that for you especially if it meant seeing you the way you were right now. 

***

After the show, you were promptly rushed to the hotel to grab your things so you could head back to the tour bus and be on your way to the next show. As you headed towards a bunk an arm reached out to tug you onto one of the lower-level beds. Once you climbed in, you were met with Eddie’s smiling face. 

“That was amazing. I liked hearing you sing that song.”, Eddie whispered. 

“Yeah? I’ve been practicing it for a while. Since you guys dragged me back from that bar that first night.” The metalhead leans down and tenderly kisses your forehead. “I wanted to apologize…for being a brat.”

A tiny whimper emits from your throat as he trails his lips along your cheek down to the shell of your ear. 

“It’s ok, princess. We can handle the brat.” His palm firmly glides down your stomach, his skilled fingers dipping into the waistband of your sweatpants, and through you cotton panties. “We don’t mind putting you back in your place.”

Your eyes drifted shut as you bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan that wanted to be heard when his digits pressed against your clit in slow circles.

“And where would that be?”

Eddie lifts his head to smirk down at you before plunging two of his fingers into your needy core. 

“Wherever we put you, your highness.” His lips tread along your jaw line as he continues to whisper in your ear and your head turns into the beautiful sound. “Under us, on top of us, in front of us. In a bed, against the wall, or on the couch…”

“Fuck…” You quickly cover your mouth as he thrusts his fingers into you a bit faster as his thumb plays with your nub. 

“Shhhh, sweetheart. You have to be quiet. I know its hard with my fingers in your tight pussy right now but I know you can do it. It will be good practice for when Steve fucks you backstage before you perform with his cum dripping out of you.”

Your cunt clenches at the image and Eddie responds by curling his fingers inside of you. 

“Or maybe in the middle of interview when you take a break…while they’re waiting for good girl Y/N to return, I’ll be fucking you so hard that you’ll have to hide how sore you are and come up with some reason for why you can’t walk straight.”

“E-Eddie, please.”, you mewl. 

“Yeah, baby? You going to cum? Cum for me, pretty girl.”

Your free hand reaches down to cover his own, guiding his pace till you tumbled over the edge, moans muffled by your palm as you came. Eddie’s own hand slides up from between your legs and you watch with hooded eyes as he licks his fingers clean. 

You don’t know if it’s the vulnerability of him making you cum or just the stress and adrenaline of the evening but you rolled onto your side and shoved your face into his chest, curling your body into him till you were as small as you could make yourself. His arm wrapped around you as he tenderly petted the back of your head.

“Can you lay with me tonight?”, you whispered.

“I’m not going to lie; you’re blocking the only way out of this bunk so I think I’m trapped here.”

He smiled when you giggled like a mischievous kid getting away with something naughty. 

“Good. I like the way you feel against me. I wish Steve could fit in here.”

“A sentence I’m sure he’s heard a lot.” Eddie presses your face into his body trying to smoother the laugh that escapes you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. You earned it.”

############

“Y/N!”

“What?!”

The director of the show glares at you when you give him attitude. “Someone is down here to see you. He said Sarah sent him.”

The boys watch from their place at the side of the stage as you nervously smile and jump down to greet the handsome stranger.

“Who the fuck is that?”, Steve asked not even trying to hide his distain.

“How should I know? No one has mentioned them bringing someone else on.”

“You slept with her on the ride here.”

“Yes, Harrington. We SLEPT. She was exhausted from the rehearsal and the show.” Eddie sizes up his friend with his eyes. “Don’t let on that your jealous. Bratty baby like her is going to toy with that.”

“I’m not…jealous.”, Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not! It’s part of our job to know all the people in her circle. Plus, you can’t tell me you aren’t a little annoyed.”

“You’re right. I can’t but I haven’t been cheated on like you have. I know it scares you more than me.”

“Oof. What made Steve so angry?” They both turn to look at you as you climb back up onto the stage. 

“Yeah, Stevie. Why so upset?”, Eddie asks playfully.

“You shut up and you…who was that?”

You casually glance in the direction of where the man you had been speaking to had been standing. 

“Um, his name is Daniel and Sarah sent him over to help me with some personal things.”

“What kind of personal things?”

You couldn’t help but tilt your head to the side at his tone. “Steve Harrington, are you jealous?”

He smirked as he stepped forward till his face was hovering just about your own. “Are you choosing not to answer my question?”

“And if I am?”, you smile back. “Hey, me and some of the other crew members were going to go to Lagoon Amusement Park. Would you two want to come?”

“Aw that’s cute.” You look at Eddie in confusion. “You asked politely like we don’t have to go with you anyway to protect you.”

“Huh. Is it weird I genuinely forgot?”, you grin. “I just want to spend some time with you two.”

###########

“We don’t have to do this.”, Steve cooed as you and everyone else waited in line. 

“No. I want to do this. I can do this.” You closed your eyes repeating your last sentence under your breath. 

“Are you afraid of heights, your highness?”

“As a matter of fact, yes Mr. Munson, I am, remember? I mean, it’s not so much the height part but the, ya know, plunging very quickly into the ground part.” The attendant allows you guys entry and Steve guided you towards the front. As you already began clinging to the handles, you overheard the man next to you inhale and exhale heavily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, um, I’m a bit terrified of heights myself.”

“Steve…”, you giggle. 

“No, no. This is fine. I face danger all the time as part of my job. I can do this. I can do this. I can—” He paused when he felt your hand reach for his and thread your fingers together with his own. When you flash him a comforting smile, he returns it before quickly bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. 

As the ride takes off, you can hear Eddie shouting in excitement as Steve grits his teeth, keeping his eyes closed. You scream with both elation and fear as you squeeze the boy next to you tighter. When you make it back, he climbs out leaning against his knees, making the metalhead laugh as he patted his back. 

You liked watching them like this; smiling and letting go especially in a setting such as this one. Usually in your circle, letting go meant going to a club or bar, getting wasted or high till you passed out. You appreciated that this was an afternoon you’d actually remember. 

You spent the rest of the evening riding more rides and playing games. Eddie seemed to come out of his shell more and you saw a side of him you imagined was only saved for friends and family back home. Steve, while still letting go, was always in protective mode. While you and the crew were in the bumper cars, when your car was hit, his arm would extend out so your body didn’t jerk too far forward. While you were playing a particular basketball game, the ball bounced off the frame and hurtled towards your face. Steve’s palm hastily shot out in front of you, blocking it as Eddie caught it. 

Near the end of the night there was a show everyone had tickets to see but it was still thirty minutes before the event started. 

“Come on. Let’s ride the merry-go-round.” You ran towards it, jumping onto a horse as you grinned, watching the metalhead climbed up side-saddle on the stallion beside you. The other boy leaned casually against the pole between you two. “You don’t want to ride?”

“I mean, aren’t I technically?”

“It’s ok, Y/N. He’s no fun.”

You laugh as Steve jokingly glares at his friend. As the ride begins to move, your gaze shifts between them. No one had ever been so caring or protective of you before. Yeah, it was part of their job but there was another layer to it that you hoped you weren’t misreading. To be honest, you didn’t exactly know what a good relationship looked like. Everyone you had ever been with had always hurt you, Simon being the worst offender. Those relationships, hell, even your relationship with your parents, always made you feel small. They constantly minimized your feelings and made you feel worthless. 

These two men in front of you made you fell little…in a good way. You liked being vulnerable with them when it came to your mind and body because you knew both were safe in their hands. After so many years of chaos, you enjoyed them taking care of you and standing up for you. You spent your entire existence pushing and fighting, and for once, you were able to let go and give up that control. 

“Daniel is an AA and substance abuse therapist.” Your tiny voice cut through the silence as they turned their heads to face you. “I…I can’t go to rehab right now but I asked Sarah if she could send someone to tour with us and help me. I also told her not to tell anyone. That’s why no one informed you.”

Steve’s palm landed on your thigh as he comfortably rubbed his thumb along your skin. 

“I’m proud of you. That’s a big step.”

“Can I ask why you wanted to keep it a secret?”, Eddie inquired. His head tilted as your own hung. “Ah, I see. Princess doesn’t want people to know because that way when she fails…they won’t be disappointed in her.”

“WHEN she fails?”

“Her words, not mine. Am I right?”

Steve sighs when you nod your head. “How did you know?”, you whispered.

He softly smiles at you as his foot reaches out to lightly tap your calf. “Had a few ‘disappointments’ in my family; me being one myself.” Your eyes locked with his as his smile widened. “Harrington to. His dad fucking hates almost every choice Stevie has made. Hasn’t he, buddy?”

“You remember when you woke me up the other day because he was calling me?”, Steve asked and you nodded. “He was calling because he wanted to ask for the five-thousandth time when I would be coming home to take over the family corporate business.”, he rolls his eyes. 

Eddie jumped down to his feet and cupped your head in his hands. “You’re not alone in this, okay? It’s going to take some time but you’re on the right track. You’re not going to fail.”

***

The show had already begun to start as you all took your seats for the event within the theme park. You were completely entranced with the visuals in front of you. So much so that you got lost in the performance and found yourself in a memory; a few of them. 

“Mom, I’m all packed… Don’t you want to come with me to the airport?” You knocked again on her bedroom door to no response. “Mama, please… at least come give me a hug.”

“She won’t come out.”, your father sighed. “I can’t say I blame her. Y/N, this is a bad idea. You should be going to college to become something. Not running around California pretending to be a singer.”

You felt your heart race as your hands started shaking, your eyes squeezed shut.

“AGAIN?!”, Jack screams as he holds up the paper in his hand and reads. “’Y/N Y/L/N Arrested for Possession.’ What the fuck?! You told me you were going to quit and go to rehab!”

“I technically did go to rehab. I just left before they wanted me to.” Your agent huffs as he throws the newspaper across the room. “They wanted me to talk about stuff that didn’t matter! What does my family or my fucking boyfriend have to do with me snorting blow?!”

“I swear to God, Y/N. I’m not going to keep bailing you out of your messes. Get. Your. Shit. TOGETHER!”

A tear falls down your cheek as all sound seems to evaporate around you. 

“You are such a fucking asshole! How could you do this to me?! How could you embarrass me like this!?”

“Embarrass you?! Don’t stand there and pretend you aren’t fucking other people when you’re on tour.”

“I don’t, Simon! Because I love you. I have been 100% faithful to you!”

“From what you remember.”, he growls. “Oh, please. I know how handsy you get when your plastered.” You reach for a dish in the sink and throw it at him. “Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know. Can’t seem to control my actions. Maybe it’s the vodka.” You toss another one and he ducks out of the way. “I hope she was worth it because we’re fucking done!”

“If you throw one more fucking plate at me, Y/N, I swear…”

You two stare each other down before you finally hurl the glass in his direction before running down the hall, his shoes pounding against the floor as he follows. 

It’s pretty much instinct that abruptly forces you to get up from your seat and run out of the area. Your sight is blinded by the tears that streak your face but it doesn’t matter. You just need to get away, away from the disappointment, pain, and the memories. 

Arms practically tackle you from behind, lifting you off your feet, and you angrily start to fight back. 

“NO! Let me go!”

“Y/N, calm down.”, Steve says with a stern tone. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I said let me go!” You hear the sound of a door being opened and Eddie forcefully telling people to leave the area. Once again, everything is silent. “Let me go!”

“Honey, I need you to breathe.” As you continue to struggle, he grips you tighter and his own breath warms your ear. “Come on, Y/N. Stay with me here.”

Your legs give out and you slowly collapse to the floor with Steve still holding on to you. Your head hangs as you place your arms over his and sob. 

“It’s ok, baby. Remember what Eddie said, you’re not alone. You’re safe. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

###########

Once you were able to calm down, the boys drove you back to the hotel and you immediately headed for your room and crashed in the bed. When you finally woke up, it was a little after 2am and the only thing you could think of in that moment was getting your hands on some of the alcohol in the mini bar. 

I mean it’s fine, right? At least it’s not the drugs. I can drink a little bit. 

Peeking out your bedroom door, you were thankful that you didn’t see either boy still awake. You tiptoed to the fridge, huffing under your breath when you realized the only liquid within it was soda and water.

“Looking for something?”

You jumped, quickly turning around to see Eddie leaning against his doorframe. 

“Um…something to drink…”

“I would recommend the water. It will hydrate you after the evening you had.”

You both stare at each other and he can almost see the wheels in your head spinning. There are two ways this could go, the easiest option being taking the water and heading back to bed. The second (and harder) option being…

“Where is it, Eddie?”

“Where’s what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“You know, its adorable you think we wouldn’t call the hotel ahead of time to ask them to remove anything with alcohol from your room.  Even more so that you think we wouldn’t double check.”

“You have…NO right…”

“You’re right. We don’t. Why don’t we all take the night to think about what we’ve done, you call Daniel, and then we can regroup in the morning.” His calm demeanor is slowly making you angrier. “Quite frankly, it would probably be better for you to call your counselor and talk to him because if we do this dance our way…”, he shakes his head. “…you probably won’t like it.”

“What’s ‘your way’?”

“Don’t play with fire, little girl.”

You growl in his direction, backing slowly towards the cabinets. Reaching in, you grab a glass cup and toss it in his direction. Eddie doesn’t even flinch as he watches it soar in the air and hit the ground to the left of his feet. 

“Wow. Were you aiming for me? If so, you suck at throwing. Good thing you settled on being a singer.”

“I didn’t settle, asshole. I was meant to be a musician.”

“Oh, my fault. You just settle on continuing your toxic cycles. Why is that?”

“Personally, after what you said, I think it’s because she struggles with being a disappointment.”, Steve quipped as he came out from his own room. “Sorry, Ed. Seemed like you had everything under control but I at least want to see how this little tantrum plays out.”

“STOP!”, you scream as you toss another glass towards them. Neither flinches again as it hits the wall between their rooms. “Stop talking about me like that!”

“Like what? Like you’re a little girl? Stop acting like one and we’ll stop treating you like one.”

“Remember, Y/N, you’re choosing to play this game here.”, Eddie sighs. 

“I could fire you both, if I wanted to!”

“Do it.” Your eyes met Steve’s as he shrugged before turning towards his friend. “Why does she throw the glass but doesn’t want to hit us?”

“I imagine it’s a tactic that’s worked in the past; throwing things at her partners to get a rise out of them so they’d hurt her.”

“You’re so fucking stupid. Why would I want to get hurt?!”, you seethe. 

“Well, let’s see. We’re not giving you anything to drink, you don’t have any more access to your drug of choice, you had a breakdown today in the middle of a theme park and you’re feeling vulnerable. The only thing you have now is us.”

“Until she fires us, apparently.”, Steve rolls his eyes. 

As Eddie begins stepping forward, you grab another glass from the cabinet and hold it up like a weapon. 

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and assume that when you’ve done things like this in the past with, oh let’s say Simon for example, that he got angry and took that out on you. Am I right?”

Your bottom lip begins to quiver and you quickly try to hide by sucking it between your teeth. 

“You asked why you would want to be hurt. It’s because you’re already hurting and you feel like you deserve it. It’s another form of self-harm, Y/N. You don’t have your normal vices so you’re jumping to the next thing you know.” 

When he enters your personal space, your arm rears back prepared to throw the object in your hand but Eddie is faster, grabbing your wrist, and prying the cup from your fingers before yanking you till your chest was against his.

“The problem with that, your highness, is we aren’t like your other assholes. Steve and I are grown men, not little boys who play pretend. We can handle whatever you throw our way. Literally it seems.” He smirks as he places the cup in the sink. “Now, again, we can play this game, Y/N, but I need you understand that you are at an extreme disadvantage. You may not have known but you’ve spent your time with beginners. Sweetheart, we’re the elite.”

His hand abruptly releases yours, opening the fridge, and grabs a bottle of a water.

“You have two options after I hand you your drink here. A…you can toss it across the room towards Steve and we can tie you to your bed till rehearsal tomorrow. Not really the most comfortable way to sleep but it will keep you from causing any more damage or sneaking out. Or B… you take the water, go back to sleep, and call Daniel in the morning.”

Eddie tilts the bottle towards you as he waits for you to make a decision. Your eyes flick towards Steve who’s still leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching and waiting. 

“May I—”

“No, you may not. It’s just these two choices, Y/N. No stipulations or negotiations. A or B.”

You sigh in defeat as you take bottle of water from his hand and turn to head towards your room. 

“Good girl.” His hand reaches out to yank on yours, pulling you to his chest before kissing your forehead. “Go to bed and leave the door open, please.”

You nod as you give Steve a tiny wave who softly smiles in return. When you climb back into bed, you listen to their voices as they quietly murmur to each other. 

“I got this, Ed. Go ahead and crash. I’ll keep an eye on her now.”

#############

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @alienthingstwo

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@steddieloverrr @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

@needylilgal022

[chubbypotatoepie]

Lily’s War (Chapter 4)

Summary: SOE Agent Lily Darlington is unexpectedly demoted from her position and offered a life changing opportunity to become the first female Paratrooper in US history?

Pairing: TBD - The suspense is part of the fun, no?

Warnings: Mentions of violence, language

A/N: Chapter 4 finally here. Please forgive my lateness, but say welcome back to Lily, hopefully with a bang!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 4.

Camp Toccoa, 1942. 

It hadn’t been an unusual day by any means, nothing particularly out of pocket had occurred. Yet, as Lily sat hunched over on the cold shower tiles watching the crimson stream of blood circle the drain, she recounted how the day had turned out so very wrong. 

— -

The bunkhouse was filled with the chorus of snoring soldiers broken only by the occasional creek of an ever restless Joe Toye rolling in his cot. All were sleeping soundly, except for Private Lily Darlington who was curled into a ball at the very top of her bed. Gentlestreaks of moonlight had trickled their way through the windows, glinting off a pair of dog tags clasped between her hands partially hidden beneath the covers, her fingers glided over the raised letters as she accosted herself at her inability to control her emotions. She sucked in a silent breath and pulled the blanket over her mouth in attempt to stifle any noise as she endeavoured to catch her breath. It had been a week since she’d last slept through the night without being plagued by a nightmare. It wasn’t unusual for them to hit once a fortnight, even once a week at their worst. She was used to that, she expected that, however lately, she was lucky to go two to three days between them. She hadn’t had a full nights sleep for a week, and it was starting to show. It was causing her to lose her sturdy exterior, she had started to quip back whenever Liebgott made a joke at her expense, and she’d purposefully tripped up Guarnere on the obstacle course the previous day due to his somewhat degrading comments on her performance. 

Each time was the same. Waking up, drenched in her own sweat, a searing pain emanating from her old wound accompanied by the smell of blood still lingering in her nostrils. It was part of the gig, came with the job she had been warned. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she placed her head between them, letting her fingertips graze over the scar as she sat there listening to the cicadas chirping outside the barracks. Their true meaning escaped her, she understood that she would have to be void of all human emotions if she weren’t to let past experiences stay with her, but why they haunted her was a question she had little answers to. It was a miracle that she had kept it to herself this long, how she hadn’t woken any of the men with her gasps or thrashing about. Lily thanked her lucky stars as she ran her hands through her damp hair, the groans from the springs beneath her sending a gentle reminder to maintain the peace within the quiet cabin as she gently knotted up her boots and tied her PT sweater around her waist. 

As she quietly sneaked out of the bunkhouse for some desperately needed air she found herself so lost in her own head that she didn’t notice the pair of eyes on her from across the room watching with a curious intensity.

— - 

“Yeah well I bet you’re regretting it now.” The irritating register of Perconte’s voice filled the latrine as he leant on the wall, half in and half out in the open door way, puffing his way through a lucky strike and scraping at a dirt stain on his shirt. 

“How was I supposed to know he’d hear me.” Luz looked up at his friend with a less than amused look on his face as he sat, back to the wall, tapping the excess ash from his cigarette into the bucket by his feet. 

“Ahh he’s got it out for all of us, yesterday was just your lucky turn.” Perconte answered.

“Last week was my lucky turn too, first time in my life I hope I run out of luck.” Luz said, his forearms on his knees as he took a deep breath of his cigarette. 

“You should be grateful, ain’t nobody been as lucky as Redcoat here, every goddamn day Sobel sees fit to reward her.” Perconte looked towards the girl scrubbing away in the corner, rolling his eyes to her seemingly obliviousness to the two men’s conversation. 

“Ain’t that right Redcoat? Hmmmmm?” Perconte clicked at the girl, trying to pull her attention from the floor. “Ears like a hawk that one” he mock whispered to Luz.

“I bet he can hear me in his sleep.” Luz replied, ignoring the short man’s half hearted attempt to irritate his punishment companion. 

“I bet he can hear you smoking and not scrubbing.” Perconte taunted tipping the sud bucket with his boot. 

Luz replied by flicking his half finished cigarette at the man, grabbing the brush from the wobbly bucket and began to scrub the tiled floor again, a little harder than necessary, his eyes conveying a less than amused look. 

“Well I’m off to enjoy this sunny afternoon, a free pass afternoon, do whatever the hell I feel like.” Perconte taunted.

Luz reached for the nearby bucket in retaliation, “you’re gonna be doing it soaking wet if you don’t get outta here” grinning to himself as Perconte made his way back out into the glorious sunshine, leaving Luz and Lily to scrub their afternoon away in the musty latrine. 

“Enjoy.” He spoke, his palms raised in defence, stepping out of the door way and cocking his head towards the girl in the corner with an eye roll.

Back in the corner, Lily knelt by the shower drain up to her elbows in suds from scrubbing the filthy floor, amazed by how the dark speckled tile was actually a light brown, hidden by a thick layer of dirt, grime, and God knows what else. She had been so graciously gifted the afternoon of latrine duty for an unknown infraction that Sobel had concocted the day prior during the afternoon obstacle course exercise after she had displeased him for the thousandth time that day, probably simply from existing. She wasn’t in the know as to Luz’s infraction, but she guessed that it was most likely due to his inability to keep his colorful thoughts to himself during the exercise, although, some of his impressions of Lieutenant ‘stick up his arse’ did make the time pass quicker. So now, they had the pleasure of each others company whilst they spent their first free afternoon in forever scrubbing the dirtiest part of the barracks as the rest of the men lamented in the summer sunshine. 

Without Perconte’s commentary echoing around the building the only sounds were that of the two scrubbing brushes rhythmically sanding away at the grimy floor. The silence was palpable. Lily didn’t mind the cleaning duty as much as Sobel probably hoped she would, she much preferred it to running a couple of miles in the humid sun with a full pack, and whilst she didn’t know Private Luz all that well, he’d been sticking to his end of the latrine, and wasn’t causing her any trouble thus far, so it came as a surprise to her when he broke the silence. 

“You know, if they’d mentioned in that damn Life article that being a paratrooper meant spending two sorry years of my life stuck with Sobel I might not have signed up so fast.” Luz stood up from his bent over scrubbing position, groaning as he clicked his body back into shape and wandered over to find where he’d left his water canteen, leaning back against the sinks, mulling over the absurdity of his situation. He looked over at the girl, scrubbing away at the endless grime that covered the floor, continuing to ignore him.

Lily had been part of Easy Company for some time now, that part being ignored, unwanted, forcing her to the back or just pretending she didn’t exist, the men always attempting to keep her an arms length away from the action. Luz wouldn’t have known she was still there if it weren’t for Sobel’s incessant barking at her. She didn’t speak up much in the classroom, never sat with the men at chow - never invited to sit with the men either he noted, even during the evenings before lights out she was either nowhere to be seen or already in bed turned away from whatever group conversation was taking place. 

“You don’t talk much do you?.” He peered over at her hunched figure as she continued scrubbing, when she didn’t answer he cleared his throat a little louder than necessary. 

“Hey Luz, how are you today? Well Redcoat, I was doing just fine until I had to come here and scrub! I love scrubbing, I’m so thankful that Lieutenant Sobel gifts it to me so often, it keeps my arms strong and my spirits high.” He chuckled to himself, tilting his head slightly in the hopes that she saw the peace offering he was attempting. 

She glanced behind herself, irritated at Luz’s attempt at humour, raising a singular eyebrow as she made eye contact with the sniggering man. 

“Oh thank god, it worked! You aren’t deaf! Had me worried for a minute there.” A ridiculous smile plastered across his face as he stared at Lily, waiting for an answer. She remained on the ground, one hand on her brush, one of the floor, her eyes attempting to bore a hole through his head. Her stare was beginning to make him think that they may have been better off in silence, his heart rate only slowing as he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in as she broke eye contact and slumped herself into a seated position, grabbing her canteen and taking a long, slow drink. 

Lily’s body ached from being bent over too long and her hands were raw from scrubbing, she had blisters on her palms from days of climbing ropes and scaling beams, she wasn’t in the mood for jibes or jabs. Her gaze remained off in the distance until she noticed Luz still looking at her, waiting on a reply, she was too tired for this, but she was too tired to continuously ignore him for the remaining hours of scrubbing they still had left.

“I’m touched?” her voice monotonous, her face unimpressed. 

The pair stared across the latrine at each other in their respective corners, an awkward silence dragging between them as neither knew what to say next. George realised that it might be the first time he’d actually properly talked to her, actually talking to her, rather than the odd nod when they came in contact during exercises. He couldn’t help but feel that part of her hesitation in talking is his own fault. By no means has he been the worst, but he hasn’t been all that forthcoming in welcoming their latest addition to the Company. He’s seen how she sits alone reading on her bunk at night, whilst the rest of the men play cards and enjoy themselves, how any conversation dies down if she merely walks past a group. A strong feeling of guilt washed over him as he racked his brain for what to say next.

“George Luz.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it towards her.

“I know who you are.” She looked towards his hand but made no move to accept the gesture.

“I know you do, and I know who you are too. Ain’t this how you do it in England? Introductions and shit?” He pushed himself off the sinks as she continued to just stare back at him, motionless. 

“Christ Redcoat, shake my damn hand, I ain't got cooties.” He stood there for a moment, his mind dancing between pride and patience before taking a few steps towards the girl, sitting himself down opposite her and extending his hand again. The lump in his chest evaporated as she waited a few moments, before placing her canteen back on the ground and with a firm shake she replied. 

“Lily Darlington.”

“And here I was thinking all this time that your name was Redcoat.” He mocked.

“I can see how you would think that.” She replied, her eyes rolled as she slumped her back against the cool wall.

“Sobel seems to really have it out for you.” He said, dancing on the edge of conversation.

“I’m starting to get the notion that he doesn’t quite like me.” She said in jest, it wasn’t enough to form a laugh, but she let out a huff of air.

“You ain’t wrong there.” He replied, stretching his legs out across the half scrubbed tile floor. 

“Well, perhaps my day just wouldn’t shine the same if Sobel didn’t remind me how worthless I am to the Company. Keeps me eager.” She turned and winked at him as she took another sip from her canteen, the suds from her elbows dripping onto her pant leg. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to have an actual conversation with someone, she felt as if she hadn’t said anything of substance in weeks. 

“You’re funny when you actually talk you know.” Chuckling when he receives a sarcastic seeming eyebrow raise and hint of a smile out of her.  “I don’t know how you do it,  I got six sisters and they cry if I so much as comment on anything they do, I hate the guy and he ain’t half as bad on me” Luz’s expression crinkled. 

“Its manageable.” She spoke as she scraped the sudds off her arms and shook them back into the bucket. 

Manageable, it was just about manageable, however it was teetering close to unbearable. She had a stern spirit, and a stiff upper lip, but not even she was unbreakable. They had so much more training to go, and then goodness knows how many years actually in the thick of it. If she couldn’t break the seal on the men’s freeze out then she had no hope of survival.

“Manageable, hmmm. Your Lieutenant hates you, your Company ain’t so keen on you either. Either you’re one determined son of a bitch, or you’re crazy.” He replied with a single eyebrow raise. 

“I’m not entirely sure I want to be friends with people who spit in my food.” She replied.  

“That’s Liebgott, he’s a jackass. And we don’t all hate you, we just don’t know you. You’re the only broad outta nine companies. You gotta see how weird that is.” 

“I see that it’s different, I don’t necessarily see it as the disadvantage that your lot do. I don’t even think they realise to know me they’d actually have to talk to me first, their friendship hasn’t exactly been forthcoming.”

“That’s fair.” He replied, his hands raised in defence. “We ain’t exactly been forthcoming, maybe it don’t come easy talking to a broad if it ain't at a bar for my lot?” He winked at her, met by a disapproving look. 

“I know you and I don’t think you’re all that bad. ” He smiled at her.

“You’ve known me, all of, two minutes?” Her sarcastic tone coming out again as she glanced down at her watch ticking away on her wrist. 

“I only let the very best of people be my friends.” He said mockingly.

“You’re friends with Liebgott…” She replied looking through her eyebrows.

“I am friendly with Liebgott, there’s a difference.” He smiled back. “Two long minutes, give it six months, we’re gonna be best friends.” His face turned to her with a childish grin plastered across it. 

“Is that so?” Her pitch raised as she suppressed a laugh at the mans premonition. 

“I know these things, feel it in my bones.” He winked before standing up and ‘wiggling his bones’ as he made his way back over to his own bucket, laughing to himself as left.

The pair fell back into their quiet rhythmic scrubbing, broken every so often by Luz trying to make conversation, and to his surprise, Lily trying to reply in a way that showed him she wasn’t entirely disinterested by his peace making attempts. After the lack lustre interactions she was used to she didn’t want to get too optimistic over a single conversation, but she couldn’t help feeling that it might be a tiny step in the right direction. 

— -

A hint of a smile crept across Lily’s face as she hung the buckets back up in the supplies closet. The pair had finally finished their punishment and Luz had rushed off to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with the men, something about Bull Randleman owning him a pack of smokes from their poker game the previous night. Lily had offered to finish up the job, and afterwards planned to find a quiet corner and watch the world go by, she had been looking forward to doing nothing for so long and her body was begging for a break. 

With her smile still lingering and her heart a little lighter she made her way along the barracks towards the quieter end of the camp, turning the corner without noticing the large figure coming straight towards her until it was too late, smacking head on, and sending both parties stumbling back, the ground littered with papers that Lily could only assume the other party had been rushing somewhere.

“I’m so sorry!” Lily exclaimed, gathering up all the lose sheets around her before looking up to see exactly who she had run into. Her heart dropped in her chest when her eyes raised to meet those of Lewis Nixon’s, Lieutenant Lewis Nixon’s, “Sir.” She tried to add quickly, however in her shocked state, it came out more like a whisper, much to her embarrassment. 

His eyes lowered for a split second before he also reached for the loose sheets, shoving them haphazardly into the file tightly grasped in his hands, almost in an attempt to by himself some time to think of something logical to say. Before it could conjure anything Lily’s hand thrust out towards him as she offered his remaining papers, his eyes met hers once again, and he drew in a sharp breath as he took them from her grasp. They both stood there awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak first. 

It hadn’t really sunk in for him yet. He still didn’t truly believe she was here. That it was actually her. Yes he’d sat through the meeting with her and Winters, however, most of it was a blur to him, he was certain he was being pranked and any moment now his sister Blanche would pop out from behind a tree, grab Lily and run off giggling. He felt as if he had been shot upon seeing her unannounced all these years later. She had been here for weeks now, yet he found himself avoiding her, filling every available hour with extra tasks just to minimise the amount of time in which he’d actually have to face her. He just couldn’t understand what the hell she was doing here - the Lily he knew would not be here. 

Lily could feel a flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, she had been wanting to speak to Lewis privately ever since she arrived, yet could never seem to find an appropriate moment, now she had one she couldn’t even seem to form a single word out of her mouth, it didn’t help that he was staring at her in an unnerving manner. Before either of them could say anything Lieutenant Winters called out for him. His eyes rose to the source of the voice across the far side of the opposite field before dropping back to meet hers with a regretful expression. 

“I have to go.” Was all he could bring himself to say before pushing past her small frame and dashing off to the very meeting he had just made himself late for, grimacing at the way he had just handled the situation, knowing full well he was just making everything more complicated for his future self and somewhat guilty for not even saying hello to the girl he was once so very close to. 

— -

If persistence was a person it would be George Bloody Luz. It was evident that he been steadfast in his intentions in becoming best friends, but to be fair, Lily hadn’t been stopping him. She was right about the step, which had actually turned out to be more of a leap, George Luz didn’t seem to do anything halfheartedly. She had begun to enjoy having a someone to shoot the shit with as they scaled Currahee, someone to compare notes with after a classroom exercise, to stand in line with at the mess hall as they awaited that evenings sloppy serving of grub. Luz had even been trying to get her to sit alongside the men at meals, to which she complied, but somehow always found herself perched half on half off the bench, too far away to be able to be involved in any discussion. One step forward, one step back. Lately they’d even found themselves sat out the back of the Barracks late in the evenings before curfew, sharing a laugh, going over the best and the worst parts of that day, occasionally joined by Floyd Talbert or another one of Luz’s friends, which only seemed to make her situation feel even more isolating, ironic really. Lily craved the dynamic that George had with the rest of the chaps, the camaraderie and the comfort it seemed to bring him at the end of a long day when he could truly be himself. It was a harsh reality, not one that she was expecting either, that to let herself be open to any form of friendship, she had to be able put her guard down, not to mention swallowing her pride. 

In a surprise turn of events, the men seemed to take the lead from Luz, she was far from getting into conversation with anyone new, however when she sat next to Luz at chow the previous evening, she received head nods from some of the others at the bench, and Randalman had even saved her a seat. It was an improvement, a very small improvement, but one she so desperately needed. 

— -

"You know Nix, I think if you stare any harder you might just fall through that window.” Winters noted from beneath his stack of papers. 

“I am not staring, I am observing.” He replied, eyes fixated on the field before him.

“That her?” Spiers motioned to the short figure at the back of the group.

“Sure is” Winters replied, placing his papers down and joining the men congregated around the window. 

The trio stood side by side behind the window, watching the line of Privates as they stood in formation, being barked at by their beloved Lieutenant Sobel. Nixon’s eyes fixed on the form of Private Lily Darlington at the end of the line, a full head and shoulders below her fellow men, the longer he stared the less he began to recognise the girl he once new. 

— -

“Easy Company, each of you will select a strip of paper! On that paper will be a name, that name will be your partner for the rest of the day, there will be no trading partners, no exceptions!” Sobel’s voice cried as he thrust the helmet forcefully into Lily’s hands.

She groaned as she grabbed a strip from the pile, she had gotten away with mostly pairing Luz for the week. Sparing wasn’t anything new to her, in all actuality she excelled at it, but there in lay her problem. Her position within the Company already ruffled feathers and had the men asking all sorts of questions that she had little interest or ability to answer. If she had gone from quiet girl at the back of the group, to launching grown men over her shoulder within a day she doubted that she’d be able to escape without explaining herself. Luz was her scapegoat, not that he knew it. She had let him lead the training, she tried to spar with her non dominate hand to lessen the blows, heck he’d even commended her on her improvements the day before. As she passed the helmet towards George she said a silent prayer that the name on her slip was an easy opponent, whilst she knew she was going to have to suppress herself, she wasn’t exactly hoping to have to take a punch from the likes of Bull or even Guarnere, she was hoping to remain under the radar, not in the medical bay. 

“Who’d you get?” George whispered across to her, passing the helmet to its next victim. 

Lily felt her prayer fall from the sky and slap her as she opened the strip of paper between her fingers. Inked across in a barely legible scrawl was the one name she’d have paid good money to not see.

Liebgott. 

She tilted the paper towards him and rolled her eyes as an amused grin swept across his face.

“Weren’t you saying yesterday how much he deserves a ‘kick up the arse’” Luz replied, mocking her accent rather crassly, his eyebrows wiggling in jest.

With a look of distain she nodded towards his paper, the corners of her mouth turning up as she read ‘Randalman’, looks like Luz will have a tussle of his own. 

“Find your partner and pair up!” Sobel yelled from the other side of the field. 

“Have fun!” Luz mocked as Lily dragged herself towards the other end of the field to find her unlucky partner. She was barely 10 steps towards where he was stood before she could feel his eyes beginning to glare a hole through her.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, boys, this is gonna be fun.” He spat, looking her up and down before shoulder passing her and strutting away from the group of men towards his spot on the field.  

“Listen up Easy Company! The man on the far side of the field will make the starting move, last man standing wins!” Lieutenant Sobel’s whistle rang through the air as Lily centred her weight and dug deep deep down within herself to find an ounce of self control to not smash his face in. Defence, defence, Now wasn’t the time to be putting anyone in the medical bay.

“Afraid of messing up your hair sweetheart?” His childish voice rang in her ears as he stood on the far side of the field rolling his sleeves up. 

“You’d have to make contact with me to be able to do that, Liebgott.” She smiled back at him with a shit eating grin, spitting his name as if it were a slur.

“Yeah?” He said, slowly squaring up towards her. He was a good head and shoulders taller than her, and he was using every ounce of his stature to try to intimidate her. It was pretty easy to pinpoint exactly how Liebgott managed to get under her skin so easily, he was impulsive, rude, he knew how to push all her buttons, but mostly it was that he seemed to wake up every day with the innate desire to do anything, say anything to tick her off. It was killing her to find an ounce of strength not to retaliate. She had learnt the hard way that it mostly makes situations worse.

The duo stood steadfast, each not willing to back down from their ridiculous stare off, completely oblivious to the approaching footsteps of the Lieutenant Winters as he made his way over towards them. 

“Do we have a problem here?” His deep voice broke their trance, his eyes shifting between the pair. 

Liebgott’s head swung from between the Winters and the girl, “Afraid of getting her hands dirty I’d say, Sir.”

Winters let out a huff of aggravation, “Private Darlington, do you have a problem sparring with Private Liebgott?” His face displayed a look of curiosity as he peered down at the girl. “From what I’ve seen I’d say quite the opposite. Perhaps you can teach Private Liebgott here a thing or two.” He said with a wink. 

“Yes Sir” Lily happily replied, a hint of a smile edging on her lips, I’d happy slap the shit out of him, Sir. 

Lieutenant Winters smiled as he backed away, he couldn’t help but admit that he did hold a slight interest in watching her take down the loudmouthed Liebgott. He’d been an onlooker a few of their interactions, and whilst he wouldn’t feel inclined to step in between them; he knew that they needed to learn how to live amongst each other, and sometimes that required an ego takedown, he was comforted in the knowledge that his meddling would only produce what Liebgott had been fuelling with his behaviour.

Lily didn’t know the last time she had free rein to pummel someone, and she adored it. A rush of adrenaline overcame her as she waited, her weight spread, knees slightly bent. Joseph Liebgott you are so bloody predictable. During the drills prior shed had time to observe almost every man, assessing their strengths and taking note of their weaknesses. Liebgott was a classic, he favoured his left leg for balance, he always threw his first punch with his right arm. He was always telling the other men about fights he had gotten into back home, he was experienced, but impulsive. His aim was always to throw as many punches as he could before his opponent got a look in. Always so quick to attack that he never assessed the situation, his anger and his ‘better than thou’ attitude clouded his judgment. 

Lily dug her foot further into the dirt for leverage as she looked across at her partner, taunting her with a confident smirk and accompanying wink. Her eyes didn’t move from his as she waited for him to make the first move, she remained still, waiting on each footstep as he moved closer towards her. 

She barely had a second to breathe before Liebgott launched himself at her, throwing a punch that narrowly missed her eye. She ducked to dodge its trajectory, having to stop herself from sinking her fist into his crown jewels as she came back up, although she’d be lying if watching Liebgott rolling around on the ground like a worm cradling his crotch wouldn’t amuse her. 

Her weeks of silence in the evenings had been beneficial, it seemed Liebgott’s favourite pastime to recount the street brawl fights he’d gotten himself wrapped up in back home in California. She needed to prepare for a dirty fight. He retreated for a short moment before he lunged at her again, his movements brash and wild, he aimed for her blind spots, however, Lily anticipated it this time, and blocked and you countered, clipping his ankle as he came past, his impulsiveness made for a simple fight, however she kept her fists tight to her body, defence Lily, she reminded herself, scraping every ounce of self control she had left.

Winter’s attention was pulled from the scene as Nixon and Spiers made they way over the field to where he stood. 

“Battle to the death?.” Spiers said as he looked out onto the scene before them. 

Nixon stood between them, his arms tightly folded watching the ebb and flow of the drill intensify, his brow knitted tightly. “She’s reading him like a book.” He said, with more concern than he intended.

Thwack! 

She blocked his expected right hook, and countered with an elbow to his face, it wasn’t hard enough to break anything, but just about enough to knock his balance off. Swinging around she met his eyes as he recoiled back, his dark eyes glared at her, a mixture of shock and fury. This time Lily moved without hesitation, rushing forward she ducked down and grabbed Liebgott below the waist, using her entire body weight to throw him to the ground, the loud thunk of his head colliding with the mud drew inquisitive eyes from them other sparring pairs. A quiet murmur started to form amongst the onlookers who didn’t know wether to stop or watch what was going on. The force of the impact sent ringing through Liebgott’s ears, his eyes felt heavy in his head as if he was being pulled into the earth itself.

A quiet suppressed chuckle escaped from Spiers as Sobel shoved past the onlookers him yanked Liebgott back to his feet by his shirt collar.  “Easy Company is better than this Private, are you going to let a girl beat you?!” He bellowed into Liebgott’s ringing ears as he shoved him back into the fight. 

Liebgott stood for a few seconds catching his breath, before swinging his arm again and unleashing a series of rapid strikes. Lily moved and countered, her blocks almost poetic in their efficiency. 

Sobel’s voice called out once more, “Private Liebgott this isn’t a street fight, you are to take down your opponent!” His cowl voice broke Lily’s concentration, and in the split second she had stopped to turn her attention towards Sobel Joe had moved to throw a wild punch. Lily failed to block him as his fist collided with the side of her face. He was overjoyed, a slinky grin crept onto his face as his eyes scanned the red mark quickly rising across her left cheek. 

A few men down, Luz and Randleman had paused mid takedown as they saw Liebgott’s fist meet Lily’s face, they anxiously watched, unaware how they each still had their fists curled into each others uniform. 

Lily swallowed hard as she re-entered herself, she was prepared for a few bruises, she had settled on a few bruises, a few stumbles and she’d fall, faking defeat. She’d be able to sit the rest out and no one would remotely pay any attention to her, she had had her fun with him. That was until Liebgott decided to open his mouth and drain every inch of her self control.

“Gonna cry Red? I’ve seen you cry in your sleep, ain’t gonna be nothing new, you just can’t hack it.” He scoffed in her direction as she wiped a loose tendril of sweat covered hair out of her eyes.

His words seared into her skin and a switch flipped inside of her. She let him move first, her eyes shooting daggers into his. She watched as he moved slowly towards her, before shifting his weight and throwing a punch that she dogged with ease, he was playing into her hands. Then, with a sudden sprint Lily moved towards Liebgott.

Crunch!

With a sudden jab to the face Liebgott stumbled backwards, his nose bloodied and his fists tightened. He moved to wipe the blood away, however Lily didn’t give him a moment’s rest. 

“What in the Sam Hell…” Escaped from Randleman’s mouth as he stood, still connected to Luz, his breath caught in his throat as he watched the tiny girl, his eyes wide with shock.

With Liebgott’s hands up to his face, he left himself open, and Lily rushed forwards again. She explored his opening and with a shark kick has landed a blow to his ribs, a jarring move that stole the air from his lungs. Liebgott doubled over as the onlookers winced, barely sparring themselves anymore, too interested in the action. 

“She’s got bite, I’ll give her that.” Spiers spoke

“You can thank the SOE for that.” Nixon replied, his eyes completely fixated on the girl.

Liebgott, with more fury in his eyes than before attempted a desperate counter attack, Lily, however, moved in with ruthlessness, blocking each strike, and retaliating with a relentless barrage. Her fist collided with the Californian’s nose for the second time, forcing Liebgott to stagger backward as he let out a gasp of pain. As the confrontation reached its climax, Lily delivered a final, devastating series of blows, landing a final kick to his abdomen, followed by an elbow to the face in order to distract him, seizing the opportunity she grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her shoulder. The onlookers shuddered as a sickening crunch sounded when Liebgott hit the ground, his shoulder dislocating the impact. Lily stood over him, her hands on her thighs as she panted, catching her breath as he lay there, defeated, bloody, and breathless. 

“Jesus Christ” Nixon breathed out as stood with the other Officers, their faces a mixture of curiosity and shock. He was finding it difficult to put into words what he had just seen, who was this Lily?

Tag list:

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild @icantdecideofthename @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @weird-obsessed-girl

Next part sooooo much sooner than you think!

[booksforevermore13]

Make it up to me later (I love you)

...

Summary: 4 times Percy ditched Annabeth for missions and she didn't know why, and 1 time he didn't. Angst and fluff and a lot of percabeth. AU, where Percy is a special forces agent and Annabeth is a doctor. Rated T for mentions of death and mild swearing.

Author's Note: Credits go to @redlion8123 for letting me use their headcanon while writing this fic. The idea is theirs and I am so thankful to them for letting me use it. I let myself go wild with this one, and as this is my first 4+1 fic, I hope you all like it. :D As always, I will be immensely grateful for all those who take the time to read this. Reviews will be much appreciated, and I always welcome constructive criticism.

...

I

...

"He's coding," Annabeth stated plainly, her voice tight as years of training set into place, and she handed over her scalpel to the attending nurse, starting on chest compressions.

Thirty seconds in and she knew it was of no use.

"Charge to 150," she barked as the nurse brought over the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!"

She watched the monitor burst into activity and then die down again.

"Push one of epi!" she commanded. "Resume chest compressions."

Inside, a thin veil of panic was taking over her chest. This man couldn't die, she thought to herself. She'd known Henry for far too long, attended his wedding, been in the room when his daughter was born. She couldn't afford to lose him.

"Charge to 200," she said, peering intently at the chest monitor. A minute had already passed. With his condition, a minute was too long to last.

She waited with bated breath as the shock passed through his body, and then sighed in relief as she saw the heart monitor changing.

"ROSC," she stated, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll finish off the surgery, and then we'll move him to ICU for further monitoring."

Voices around her agreed in unison as she was yet again handed her ten-blade and forceps, as yet again, her fingers descended into the chest of a decade old friend.

Annabeth really needed a break.

…

She sighed as she walked through the halls of the hospital and reached her office, collapsing immediately on her sofa. Annabeth ran her hands through her hair, which over the years, had lost its shine and was falling apart in her hands.

She really needed to stop taking on back to back 36 hour shifts.

Annabeth groaned as her neck snapped painfully as she turned to lay on her side, her eyes settling on the wall hanging that her boyfriend had given to her on their anniversary. At just the right angle, the sunlight hit the ornament in such a way that the wall above became a mural of waves crashing against each other. It was mesmerising to watch, and on hard days, it had become her solace.

"Hey!" Annabeth turned, as Piper walked in, the familiar scent of lavenders wafting into her office. Annabeth smiled in welcome, as Piper settled in on her sofa. The latter peered in concern as she took in the resigned figure of her counterpart.

"How many hours has it been since you properly slept?"

"A couple of days at most." Annabeth grunted as she struggled to find a proper place to rest her neck in.

"Mother of Zeus, you've got to stop doing that!" Piper exclaimed, her light brown hair glinting in the sunlight, and appearing a gorgeous amber. Piper was stunning, and Annabeth had once questioned whether surgery was really the line for her instead of more fashion oriented professions. But then, Piper had put her in her place, and once she did, that was all.

"I know," Annabeth muttered, her eyes once again floating towards the waves on her ceiling. They were now a bright sea-green, and Annabeth smiled as she was reminded of the eyes of her beloved.

"You heading home?" she asked Piper, who nodded in response.

"Jason wants me back for something."

"Jason always wants you back for something."

"Yeah, well." Piper smiled fondly and Annabeth chuckled as she saw a dreamy expression settling in on her friend' s face. A year into their relationship, but Annabeth had never seen that expression on Piper for anybody else.

"You have that date too, don't you?" she fired back, and Annabeth blushed, as she looked away in embarrassment.

Piper cackled in response.

Truth be told, it was the only thing Annabeth had been looking forward to for weeks to come. Her boyfriend was an international aid worker, meaning he was more often than not, travelling to various places for his job. This meant they couldn't meet up as often as Annabeth would have liked, but it made no difference. In her thirty four years of life, he was the first person with whom Annabeth could truly let go of herself, and her job and all the tribulations it brought.

Now, three weeks later, they would finally be meeting again, and after hours and hours of surgery and stress, not that those never overlapped, those few hours she'd spend with him would make up for it.

"Few hours doing what, exactly?" Annabeth smiled, as Percy's voice resonated through her head, his crooked smile making home in her mind.

She wouldn't admit to herself, but she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.

"What's it been, a few weeks?" Piper asked, after she'd finally calmed down and gathered herself.

"Hmm," Annabeth said, "Speaking of, I should really be going now. He'll be here any minute."

Piper smiled again, that same coy expression on her face, and Annabeth whacked her as she got up from the sofa. "You're not going to change?" she yelled, as Annabeth headed towards the door.

"I won't need to," she quipped as the door closed behind her.

Annabeth laughed softly as she heard the thud of a pillow against the door.

…

Where are you?

She typed, sighing as she felt a few drops of rain on her head.

Percy was never this late. And he'd never not replied to her texts before.

She heard the ring of her phone and her hands fumbled as her fingers swiped at the screen to accept the call.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth!" She jerked away as his voice boomed across the receiver. Annabeth glared at a passerby as she hurriedly walked over to a corner on the street, ignoring the now constant slew of rain over her.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth," his voice came through again, a note of urgency in it. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry I don't think I can make it. My flight's been redirected to Chicago, and I don't think I'll be on time for the date."

Annabeth felt her heart sinking, as she mustered up the voice to answer back. "You're already late!" she yelled back, and smiled sadly as she heard Percy laugh through the phone.

"I'll make it up to you!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, I have to go now!"

"It's okay!" she said, but the call had already ended. Annabeth looked at the phone screen, willing his name back. She couldn't help it, but she felt small pinpricks of tears at the back of her eyes.

She'd been looking forward to seeing him again.

"Annabeth!" she heard someone yell her name. Annabeth looked up to see Piper in a small Bentley, Jason by her side, both of them peering at her, through the rain, "What's wrong?"

"Percy couldn't make it." she replied, as she walked over to them. "Drop me home?"

"You never have to ask." Piper said gently, as Jason smiled warmly back at her, tipping his cap in greeting.

Annabeth smiled, her throat clogged, as she got into the back of his car.

Even the rain didn't seem to appease her today.

...

II

...

"So, its like a ball, but for doctors?" Percy quipped, one eyebrow raised, and Annabeth shoved him, laughing as he feigned injury.

"It's not a ball," she argued.

"And yet, you're still going?"

Annabeth chuckled incredulously, as the couple walked hand in hand across the streets of New York. Percy had picked her up to get doughnuts, and she'd gotten the plain glazed, while he'd settled for blueberry. Apparently, her choice was extremely basic, but Percy had sneaked in a few bites from her nonetheless.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.

"You know that fairytale that little children like to hear before going to bed?"

Annabeth looked back blankly.

"There's a movie too."

"What-"

"The one where the girl goes to a ball and there's a prince-"

"Cinderella?" she offered and Percy snapped his fingers, elated.

"That's the one!" he exclaimed and Annabeth laughed.

"This is absolutely not a Cinderella story," she argued back, shaking her head in exasperation. Around them, people sped across trying to reach their destination in the shortest amount of time possible. It was like a race against time, but Annabeth had by now, accepted that they'd always be on the losing side.

"Of course it is! There's a ball, and there's a prince, that's me," Percy pointed to him in all seriousness. "There's you-"

"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous." She shook her head again and Percy put his head back as he laughed, letting go of Annabeth's hand and putting it across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

"You know I'm right."

"Absolutely not."

He made a face, and Annabeth poked him on his side, while he squirmed away. The couple walked hand in hand and they slowed down as they neared Annabeth's apartment, a small cosy set-up in a three story brownstone.

"You're sure you're coming?" she asked worriedly, and Percy turned around, taking her face in his hands.

"There'll be no prince without his Cinderella now, would it?" he said in mock seriousness, and Annabeth chuckled, shoving him gently.

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, while he reciprocated, enveloping her in his warmth. Annabeth closed her eyes, enjoying a moment away from the chaos of New York City.

"I'm just saying, you don't have to come."

"But I will," she heard Percy say and sighed in content. "I promise."

October had arrived and in consequence, the leaves had started falling. New York changed colour, Annabeth had observed, unlike San Francisco, which seemed never changing. No, in New York, there was always something to be seen, and felt.

Right now, it seemed orange.

"I have to go," she muttered.

"Don't."

Annabeth smiled, then raised her face to look into his eyes. Percy bent forward, kissing her softly.

"Six pm. Sharp." she said sternly as she stepped away from him, and towards the door.

"Yes ma'am."

…

Three hours later, Annabeth walked towards her mirror, checking her reflection in it for the umpteenth time.

She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged her waist and went flowing down to her ankles. Her hair had been let down for once, and her eyelashes had been curled and painted as per Piper's instructions.

She didn't look like herself.

Annabeth fussed over her earrings, smoothing her hair down, as she debated upon tying it up in a bun just for the sake of it.

Who'd care?

Percy would, she thought to herself, then realising he actually wouldn't. Annabeth smiled, as she thought about him, his ever-ready tongue that had got him into more trouble than he could account for, his eyes which seemed to understand everything and everyone in the world, and his heart, that had made room for her in the same way hers had done for him.

Sunlight flickered in through the window in her bedroom, as Annabeth paced to and fro, waiting for Percy's call.

She'd called him twice, and he'd disconnected every time, and Annabeth was slowly getting worried.

Her phone pinged, and she unlocked it, scanning through Percy's new message.

I'm sorry

'What?', she thought to herself, and called Percy again.

This time, he picked up.

"What the hell, Percy?" she barked into the phone, sensing Percy wincing on the other end.

"Someone I know got into an accident," he explained hurriedly, but Annabeth snapped.

"What in the world are you talking about? What accident?"

"Uhh.." Percy stammered, "car accident. It's bad, and I'm so sorry -"

"Cut it out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth sighed. "Do I need to go to the hospital? How bad is it, do I-"

"No, no," Percy denied, and Annabeth frowned as static came through the other end. "You don't need to do that. You just go to the party. You don't need to come, it's fine. It's okay."

"Percy - "

"I'm so sorry, Annabeth. I know I promised."

Annabeth bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up her little hairdo, as she resigned herself to the bed.

"It's fine," she said, more to convince herself. "It's okay."

"I'll make it up to you."

Annabeth nodded, feeling like a jerk for feeling like this, as static came though the call, and it disconnected. She blinked away rapid tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

She hadn't wanted to go to this party alone, but she'd make do.

Annabeth sighed, letting her hands fall down to her sides, composing herself for the upcoming slew of discomfort.

Cinderella would have to go alone, she quipped to herself, smiling sadly.

...

III

...

They'd fallen into an easy schedule after that. On the days he'd be in New York City, he'd come to pick up Annabeth at the hospital at the end of her shifts. He'd become popular among the nurses, having won them over by his quick wit and charm. Around the hospital, he'd started being known as Doctor Chase's new guy, something that Annabeth had secretly liked.

However, an incessant suspicion had settled itself in her head that something was up with him. With his untimely disappearances and excuses that didn't line up with each other, Annabeth had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.

Piper and her had chalked it up to her paranoia.

Today had been one of her worser days. She had lost two of her patients in a span of three hours from each other, and each time she had had to listen to the daunting sound of the heart monitor flatlining.

Ten years as a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she could still never get herself accustomed to that sound.

All doctors unanimously agreed that the worst thing about losing a patient was telling their family. There was nothing worse than to see their expectant faces as they approached them, and then seeing the light leave their eyes. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of it, and till date, she could never decide which evil was better.

Worst of all, their faces always seemed to stay with her.

"Miss Charlton's mother, please," she asked the receptionist, Margot, as she reached the waiting room.

Margot pointed to a seat at the extreme right corner at the back of the hall. Annabeth sucked in a big breath, steeling her nerves as she entered the room.

Her heart hammered painfully as she saw the woman get up and run to her expectantly.

"Ma'am," she began softly, but Annabeth could already see that the woman had understood.

"No-"

"Ma'am, the moment I opened up her heart-"

"My baby," the woman wailed, clutching at her heart, as she staggered towards the bench beside them.

Annabeth looked to the ground, her chest feeling tighter by the second. She didn't even think she knew the mother's name. Annabeth had always addressed her as Mrs. Charlton. Or Evelyn's mother.

Curse the Gods.

It was protocol that the doctor couldn't leave until they had informed the guardian about the happenings in the O.R.

After all, it was their ward the doctor had been operating on. It was their ward the doctor had killed. Annabeth had killed.

She sucked in a breath, blinking back tears as she approached Mrs. Charlton again. Annabeth had no right. No right to feel what she felt, when a mother in front of her had lost her baby.

Mrs Charlton howled in her grief.

"Ma'am," she said, and she stepped back as the woman turned on her, her eyes blazing, clouded with grief and anger, as she walked over to Annabeth and slapped her across the cheek.

Annabeth gasped, her hands flying towards her cheek, as she staggered away from the woman in front of her.

"You killed her," she snarled.

"I," Annabeth stammered. "I," she said, her voice breaking.

She tried to explain, but then turned and ran.

…

Outside, she took her phone out, ignoring the looks that she was receiving, as she dialled Percy's number, hoping to Zeus he'd pick up.

Still sobbing, she slipped into an empty on-call room, locking it shut as she sank to the floor, her legs trembling, the emotions of the day catching up to her.

As the call disconnected, she frantically dialled his number again.

"Hey, Annabeth," she heard his voice, and scrambled to put the receiver close to her ear. "I'm sorry, can I call you-"

"Percy," she sobbed, completely breaking apart, as she tried desperately to get herself under control. She'd killed that girl, and that was all she could think about.

"Annabeth?" Percy's voice turned frantic. "Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"No, no, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she blubbered. Somebody was yelling behind Percy, yelling at someone, at him? Annabeth heaved in a breath, as she fumbled to reduce the call volume.

"Hey, hey," Percy said. "What's wrong? Where are you?" His voice seemed urgent, and the person behind him was still yelling, making things inside her head seem even more deafening.

The voice in her head was mocking her for trying to find comfort in her boyfriend when she had just left a life destroyed, not a few metres away from her.

Annabeth stifled a sob, as she answered. "I'm at the hospital. I just…I just, had a bad day."

"Fuck, Annabeth," Percy said, her voice growing more frantic by the minute.

Annabeth jerked away from the phone as a weird static came up, followed by Percy yelling that he'd call later.

"No, wait," Annabeth cried, as the phone disconnected, "Wait!"

She screamed into her hand, pulling at her hair in frustration as she flung the phone away from her.

Tears leaked out, as the day's events flashed across her mind. The first patient, who'd been a John Doe, then Evelyn, Evelyn's mom, and now….and now Percy.

Annabeth heaved out a sob, as she finally rested her head against the door, her body slumping in defeat. She closed her eyes, and let herself be lost to the world.

Days later, Percy appeared at her door, enveloping her in his arms. With him, came an excuse and the sound of Annabeth's heart breaking.

...

IV

...

"Can I see the trauma entry records for last month?" Annabeth asked the nurse behind the counter. She had a slight idea her name was Olivia, but Annabeth had never met her before other than by word of mouth from the other nurses.

"May I know why, Doctor Chase?" the nurse(Olivia?) questioned, as she got up from her chair, rummaging under her desk for a second, before she got out a slim file, filled with patient records.

"I just," Annabeth hesitated, "I just want to check something."

Olivia nodded, handing her the file, and Annabeth flipped through it, looking for the records under July 15. A few broken bones, a heart attack, and yes, a car accident. For a second, Annabeth's hopes were lifted, a cruel irony, until she saw that the time of entry had been at 11 pm in the night.

She had called Percy in the evening.

Annabeth felt her heart sinking as she read through the contents of the patient record, eyes flickering back to the time of entry.

11:58 pm. Annabeth had talked to him that evening at 6:59. She knew because she had checked.

"Everything okay, Doctor Chase?" the nurse questioned, and Annabeth hurriedly blinked back tears as she closed the file, returning it back to her.

"Yeah," she managed to say, "everything's fine." She turned to go, before pausing and briefly turning back. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - "

"Olivia. Olivia Hansley."

Annabeth smiled, nodding in thanks, then turned to go.

…

There had been no flight redirected to Chicago either. There hadn't been a flight in the first place.

Annabeth sat down heavily on her sofa, running her hands through her hair. He had bailed on her. Percy had bailed on her.

Already, a lump had set in on her throat, as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to distract herself.

She had been cheated on once by her ex. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if Percy had done that to her too.

She stifled a sob, raising her head as her eyes fell on the mural that he had given to her. Again, the waves seemed iridescent compared to her bland grey walls, but this time, unlike all the other times when it had managed to calm her, Annabeth felt enraged.

He had lied to her so many times. Disappointed her, left her waiting while he screwed some other girl.

But still, it was Percy.

And until a few hours ago, Annabeth had felt that she had known him. Known him just like he had known her. She had fallen in love with the boy with the green eyes and crooked smile. Who had shown up when she'd needed him Who'd brought her back from the broken shell of a person that she had once been.

He at least deserved a chance. And Annabeth hoped to all the gods of Olympus that she was wrong. For once.

She got up from her sofa, dialling the ever-familiar number on her phone. She heard it ring once….twice…..thrice, then heard Percy's voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"I want to meet up," she declared, her voice assuming the one she adopted in the operating room, when she meant business and nothing else.

"Annabeth, what?" Percy's voice came through the other end, and again, she could hear the familiar sound of static, that she had gotten used to on calls with Percy.

"I want to meet up," she repeated.

"Annabeth, I don't think I'll be able to -"

"Why?" Annabeth demanded, anger coursing through her veins. "What could you have possibly going on today, on a Saturday, that you won't be able to meet me for a few hours?"

"Annabeth, I'm sorry - "

"I'm so sick of you apologising," she interrupted. "What, you have some flight that's been redirected to the Philippines now, or somebody's dying again? Is it some other girlfriend that I don't know-"

"Annabeth, just hear me out," Percy's voice reverberated through the speaker, but Annabeth could hurl her phone at the very mural he'd given her.

"What, Percy? What can you explain? Because I have waited for you for so many months, overlooked all of your excuses," her voice broke, but she went on, "hoping…praying that you weren't like all the other guys who had left me hanging."

"Annabeth-"

"But you ... .you have completely��exhausted me," she finished, sinking down on the floor, back against the wall, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. She gulped, breathing in deeply through her nose, but the lump was still there, hurting her throat.

"Just give me a chance to explain," his voice came through the speaker, and Annabeth shut her eyes, willing the past few hours to just go away.

"Explain then. Right now. Explain to me why you've been lying to me for the past few months," she said into the phone, voice clogged with desperation.

"I…..I can't," his voice came through again, and Annabeth closed her eyes, finally letting her tears flow.

Percy went on. "Not right now. Just… just one day. Give me one day, and I'll tell you everything. Please."

The sun was setting as the last few rays came pouring into the room, lighting up a few select tiles on the floor. Annabeth stifled a cry, as she snapped back.

"Don't fucking call me again, Percy."

...

+1

...

I'll come. Jason will drop me.

Annabeth saw Piper's text, her fingers flying over the keypad.

Don't. I'm fine. I'll come over tomorrow.

Annabeth watched as the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, indicating she was typing again. Annabeth sighed, then typed back.

It's 3 am already. I just need some time alone.

The dots disappeared. Then a message popped up.

I'll be there first thing tomorrow.

Annabeth smiled sadly, then switched off the phone. Her phone screen flashed as the clock turned to three, and she sighed.

Outside, the night had taken on its darkest, the wind blowing against the window shutters, making the room inside deafening. The night felt like her, had become her, and Annabeth could barely do anything without being reminded of the hurt in her chest.

Try as she may, she couldn't shake it. Hadn't ever even met with this hurt before.

Annabeth had fucked up. After Luke, she had vowed to neve give her heart away to anybody ever again. But then Percy Jackson had appeared, and got under her skin. And try as she may, she hadn't been able to stop it.

Annabeth buried her head in her pillow, letting her tears soak into the linen.

Outside the storm raged on, unrelenting, unyielding.

How Dickensian indeed.

Then, the bell rang. Annabeth jerked up from the sofa, immediately reaching for her phone. Was it Piper? No, Piper had a key. She'd walk right in.

Annabeth crept closer to the door, her thumb just inches away from dialling 911. She'd seen reports of people being robbed at gunpoint by late night visitors. She'd even treated them in the ER.

The bell rang again, and Annabeth hyperventilated, furiously typing in the digits, hands trembling, when a voice came through.

"Annabeth, it's me!" the voice yelled through, and shestilled, her heart in her throat. "It's Percy, don't call the police!"

Annabeth frowned, phone away, as she slammed open the door, wincing at the onslaught of the wind against her face. She glared at Percy, who was heavily leaning on the wall beside her, hand on his side.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes flashing, her back against the harsh drops of rain.

"Just hear me out, Annabeth, please," Percy begged, and for the first time in a few weeks, she looked into his eyes, really looked and saw, to her surprise the desperation in his face, an emotion that she had never before seen on him.

"Are you going to lie to me again?" she bit back, and Percy tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers.

"Just the truth," he replied. "Nothing else."

She glared at him, and then let the door open wide. Percy got up, shuffling forward, before his legs buckled. Annabeth rushed forward and caught him before his knees reached the ground.

"The fuck," she muttered. It was then, her eyes scanned over his body, noticing the gaping wound on his side. It was why he was leaning against her wall, and looking at it now, the blood had seeped into the wall as well. On top of that, he was soaking wet too.

"I'm fine," Percy muttered, looking at her expression, but Annabeth looped his hand around her neck, as she hauled him up. Percy grunted, but complied as they both shuffled into the house, Annabeth kicking the door shut in the process.

Once inside, she settled him on her sofa, before rushing into the kitchen, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. On second thought, she got up a few select pain meds as well, before sprinting back towards him.

"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded, as she cut open his shirt. Annabeth cursed internally, as she touched his cold skin, knowing it was because he had been in the rain for so long.

"I…" Percy hesitated.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly, as she examined the wound. In the light, she could see a few bruises forming on his face as well, and not for the first time, she wondered what he had been up to.

"Bullet graze," he muttered, and Annabeth smarted back.

"What?" she cried out. "What the fuck do you mean by a bullet graze?"

"I…"

"No, don't speak," she commanded. "Wait until I've patched you up."

Under the yellow light of her tungsten bulbs, Annabeth poured the rubbing alcohol on his wound, ignoring his wince, as she pulled out a cauterised needle and thread from the first aid box.

"I'm going to stitch you up, okay?" she said, gently swatching a generous amount of numbing cream on his wound.

Annabeth worked on the stitches, her fingers flying over the broken patch of skin in record-breaking speed, trained from years and years of practice and experience.

She noted briefly how he barely winced, and as she finished up, wrapping a roll of gauze around his abdomen, Annabeth noticed Percy's eyes on her, silent through the entire ordeal.

She handed him a towel instead and a pair of shorts that he had left in her house last time he had been there, which now that she thought about it, had been over six months ago.

The familiar burst of anger ignited in her veins again, as she turned away from him, giving him the space to change. She wrapped up the gauze and needle in a cellophane plastic, all the time being acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room. Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, sucking in a few heaving breaths before going back into the room again.

Percy was now standing beside the sofa, waiting for her.

"Sit," she commanded, and Percy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You'll rip the stitches."

He nodded, facing her as she leaned opposite to him, biding him to start.

"I lied." He said, hsi voice barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling for a long time.

Annabeth said nothing.

"I lied about my job. About what I do," he admitted. "I am not an international aid worker, or whatever the fuck I told you I was," he said, his eyes looking straight at hers.

"I work in the special forces," he ended, and Annabeth imperceptibly sucked in a breath. "I work for an organisation, named Olympus. They give me my missions, and I carry them out. They give me my orders, and I follow them."

Annabeth's eyes softened, and she dared to ask. "So, all the times you lied to me -"

"I was in Jakarta. Slovakia. Portugal. Venice," he finished. "While I'm working, I'm in multiple places at once. The only time I'm at one place is ... .is when I'm with you," Percy's voice broke, and he looked away.

Annabeth gulped, her mind running through all the scenarios where she'd sensed something wrong, where Percy had had to leave suddenly after some call in the middle of their date, the number of times he had not been able to meet her for something after being excited for the same for much longer than her. It was all falling in place for her.

"And," Annabeth paused. "And, what does this entail?"

Percy looked back at her. "I'm breaking enough protocols to tell you this anyway," he chuckled bitterly. "But, I….I have lied to you about everything I do. I have let you down, but," his voice broke, "I have never lied to you once about how I feel about you."

Annabeth felt a lump rising in her throat.

"When I met you," Percy said, his voice heavy, "you were this brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon I'd met in the ER, who'd looked at me once and deemed me too far gone for my own good. And I was. My life is full of people who I've killed in order to protect myself, who've died in my crossfire, and those who I've killed under orders."

Annabeth watched as a few tears streaked down his face, landing on his hands. She frowned, blinking back her own tears as they threatened to overcome her.

"I'm a murderer," he went on, and Annabeth winced. "I kill people for a living. But then you…you have shown me how different life could be from my own, and I've fallen in love with it. I've….I've fallen in love with you."

Percy looked up at her, and Annabeth gasped as their eyes met, both of them overcome with emotion. She had pushed this man to the edge, hoping he'd leave her, but he'd come back. He'd come back.

She stepped forward, hesitating, before Percy gently caught her hands, pulling her over his lap. Annabeth yelped, before rushing to get up. "Your wound -"

"I'll be fine," Percy interrupted, one hand slinging around her waist, holding her in place.

Annabeth let her hand rest on his cheek, wiping away the tear trails on his face, as she felt a light shudder pass through his body.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, letting a few of his tears escape again.

"You won't," Annabeth replied, letting her forehead rest on his. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance-"

"No," Percy shook his head. "You…you have done everything right. I…" he shut his eyes tightly., shaking his head again. "I quit."

"What?" Annabeth jerked back. "What do you mean?"

"I quit today after I got back from my mission. I've been wanting to for so many years now, and after last night, I….I just couldn't afford to lose you to do something that was about destroying everything around me and losing everything I'd ever loved. I can't. I can't keep doing this job, leading this life anymore."

"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice heavy with tears.

"Annabeth," he said back, cracking a smile.

"I love you," Annabeth settled on saying. She smiled, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. Yes, she could say that now. She loved him.

Percy's eyes shone with tears, as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, raising himself just barely above the sofa to capture her lips in his. And unlike all the kisses they had shared before, this one was full of fervent passion, as the both of them clung to each other, sharing a mutual sense of need, brushing away tears and letting the midnight rain in.

"I love you," Percy whispered back.

Outside, the storm eased, as the rain found in itself the grace to die down into a drizzle. And as the soft pattering of the rain lulled into a wind that soothed away the lashes of the day. Annabeth drew back, eyes furrowed in question.

"So, your bullet graze is a -"

"Crossfire. Stray bullet," Percy accepted, wincing as he shuffled to get into a more comfortable position.

Annabeth nodded, before declaring. "I'm making an executive decision that you need to sleep."

Percy chuckled, complying as she helped him lie down on her sofa, getting up to go, before he pulled her back close to his chest, snuggling together, their warmth blending together to create one.

"I'm sorry I got blood on your coach," Percy muttered into Annabeth's hair, resting his head over hers.

"Make it up to me later," she smiled back.

"I'll do a lot more than that tomorrow," he replied, an evident smirk in his voice, and Annabeth laughed.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

It’s Always the Same

1200 words for 1200 followers #4 

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! This is one of two requests that I got for Jack, and they will be related... and I already have plans to continue it after all the 12-A-Palooza requests are done. So in addition to the Spectrum Soulmate Marcus Pike AU, the Jack Daniels Time Travel AU is now a thing. (And I’m not mad about it at all.) 💚

Warnings: mention of character death, mention of violence, this one is angsty and I am SORRY. 

Requested by: @azure-waves Song: Back in Town Character Choice: Jack Daniels - Thank you for sending this in! I hope you enjoy this, darling! I know it’s a little angsty, but I have a plan so don’t worry too much!!

Jack Daniels was the best Agent within the Statesman organization. 

Skilled, suave, brave, reliable, dedicated. Jack was everything the agency stood for, everything they valued. Because of that, he’d risen quickly in the ranks, becoming a Senior Agent after only eight years of service. 

But there was one thing that set him apart from the rest of the Agents even more than those attributes - his willingness to partake in tests of new, experimental technology that could help the agency gain advantages. He had been the first to step forward when researchers brought Alpha-Gel to trial, fully aware and accepting of the risks involved. 

Nothin’ much to lose if it goes sideways. 

So when Champ and Ginger came to him with the proposition of a new trial, Jack had all but signed on before knowing a single detail. 

“It’s not as dangerous as the Alpha-Gel testing was,” Ginger explained. “But it’s … delicate.” 

“Well, darlin’, I can be as delicate as a daisy when the occasion calls for it. What’s the mission?” 

He didn’t expect time travel.

They called it The Rewind, since for now Statesman only had the ability to move in one direction along the continuum - backwards, and only up to three years - and Ginger had been right to deem it delicate. Time was a fragile thing, and handling it too harshly left fingerprints where they didn’t belong. Those fingerprints could cause the present to cave in on itself and the future cease to exist. 

Jack silently hoped that they never gained the ability to travel beyond the three year mark. He knew that if it became possible to go back to the moment that his wife was killed, no amount of moral obligation would keep him from trying to save her. 

Future be fuckin’ damned. 

The Rewind hadn’t been engineered so Agents could change things that had already happened, though. It was created strictly so the agency could gather intelligence. It allowed a person to go back to a specific time and place, to witness that moment again and again from different perspectives, drop eaves on a conversation until it had been memorized, hunt for clues in the near past that might give them an edge in the present so they could put a stop to things before they happened. 

But it was still in the early stages. There was still a battery of experiments to run. That was where Jack came in. 

“We’ll be sending you back three years, to the night of July 19th. There’s a place on the outskirts of town called the Junction. Or -” Ginger arched one eyebrow. “There was. It closed down six months ago. But before it did? A lot of shady characters used to meet there. We think it’s where Dark Shadow did most of its recruiting.” 

Jack’s top lip curled at the mention of the crime organization. Dark Shadow had been a weapon smuggling ring that operated by overwhelming local law enforcement with a slew of small crimes so that they could pull off their larger ones while the authorities were distracted. They sold guns to drug dealers, who in turn put pistols in the hands of every sales soldier on the streets. They were the reason that countless hearts had been broken by the words “wrong place, wrong time” just as Jack’s had. 

Taking them down had undoubtedly been his proudest moment as a Statesman. 

Ginger explained that since they already knew how things shook out for Dark Shadow, testing the Rewind on their hideout meant that the stakes were low. “For now we just want you to go, spend a few hours there, act as though you’re just a patron getting a drink. You can talk to people as long as you don’t tell them anything that hasn’t happened for them yet. We’ll pull you back remotely when it's time, and then you’ll report on anything you can remember.” 

Jack nodded. “Seems simple enough.” 

“We’ll repeat this process until we’re confident that you’ve absorbed every detail of that night - what people were wearing, the texture of the bar top, all of it. That gives us an idea of how big a window we’ll have when we send Agents in for live missions. How long they’ll need in a space that size with the same number of variables and-” 

“Ginger.” Champ cleared his throat as a gentle interruption. “Think he gets the idea. Don’t ya, Whiskey?” 

“Sure. Like any old night on the town. ‘Cept it’s the same night every night until I can paint it pretty as a picture for you. That about it?” 

Ginger gave a sheepish nod, aware that she was prone to over explanation at times. “Yup. That’s about it. For now.” 

– – – 

Jack stopped outside the Junction, staring at the flickering neon letters on the sign that hung in the window. Like always, the C was dead. This time, though, he noticed that it was due to a crack in the lightbox that looked distinctly like a bullet hole. 

Well look at that. A new piece of the picture already. 

With that he went inside. He wasted no time lingering near the dart boards or sauntering through the billiards tables as he’d done his first few July 19ths. He’d already gained what he could from the people gathered around them on previous trips. This time his focus was directly on the bar. Or more directly on the woman behind it. 

You.

It was his twelfth time pulling up a stool and ordering a drink from you. Nine of those times he’d asked you your name and he’d given you his. You’d spent nearly half your shift ignoring other customers to talk with him on at least seven occasions. Five times he’d caught you looking at him in the bar mirror, a guilty - but not ashamed - grin curving your cheeks. There were four times when you had asked him if he wanted to get coffee at the diner on ninth street, three when he had said yes, and two when you’d invited him back to your place after that. The last time he walked into the Junction he ended up in your bed, with you panting his name into his ear. 

He remembered every detail of every interaction with you.

But for you it was the first time you’d seen him. You didn’t know his name or his drink. Didn’t know that he made you laugh or that his hands had already mapped your body. “What’ll you have, Cowboy?” 

He gave you the same smile he had the last few times - which meant that you couldn’t tell it was just a little sad. “Whiskey’n water, darlin’.” 

Always the same. 

He couldn’t help the twinge in his chest as you turned to make his drink. Jack wasn’t expecting the mission to be time travel. And he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to fall for a woman from a different timeline. But here he was. And there you were. 

The Alpha-Gel trials had been painful. Knowing that you would forget him every time was torture.

Still, when you asked him out for coffee, he grinned, standing from his stool. “You ever been to the 9th Street Diner, darlin’?” 

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags:  @something-tofightfor​ @paracosmenthusiast​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @dihra-vesa​ @disgruntledspacedad​ @littlemisspascal​ @hellovanessax​ @mishasminion360​ @nyctophiliiiiaaa​ @practicalghost​ @tanzthompson​ @harriedandharassed​ @woodlandmouth​ @swtaura @trickstersp8​ @princessxkenobi​ @imtryingmybeskar​ @wildmoonflower​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @theredwritingwitch​ @silverstarsandsuns​ @competentpotato​ @pedro-pedrito-pascalito​ @jedi-in-crocs​ @hannahkatharine​ @novemberrain221 @chiyo13​ @myloveistoolittle​ @spishsstuff @writeforfandoms

[isabelguerra]

not to get personal (on whats sort of become a personal blog? how dare i) but im thinking about how crazy my life has been since i started this blog.

i emailed, organized an event around, met, and had dinner with 3 of my industry heroes. one is an art director at cartoon network. i had interviews with 4 more of the most amazing creative workers ive ever spoken with. in my last week of college i both met and signed with my agent. didnt sleep for 4 days while trying to set up my final exhibition and dug a fork into my leg when i realized everything was happening. my senior thesis got picked up to be a graphic novel.

i was invited to an early screening of nimona. that nd stevenson was at. if id mentioned it to my agent he probably would have invited me to the screening HE was at. WITH nd stevenson. because hes HIS agent. because i share an agent with the guy who made comics about burning yourself alive in college like theres nothing coming afterwards. and 10 years later he looked at me and said ‘that one. thats my next one.’

i met nd stevenson after the screening and managed not to say a single smooth word, which was probably for the best. he signed my book. i asked about our school. he changed the topic. i had panic shakes the entire trip home.

i got hired to teach art summer camp. got sidetracked from my comic pitch. got back onto my comic pitch. went to SPX and assisted a friend with tabling. met ANOTHER industry hero. who also works with my agent. told her who i was working with and she lit up, we talked about her current project, she almost started crying because i remembered it and she didnt think anyone did. now we’re emailing.

emailing ANOTHER comics friend. got lunch and they helped me get back on track with my pitch. theyre helping me find a comics internship. i’m working on the pitch again and im FORCING my deadline to be the end of november. before the year is over i’ll have pitched my first graphic novel at age 24. i already know one publisher is interested.

i got an invitation from my old professor to come speak to her class. waiting to hear back from that. i never thought theyd want me again but there the email was, plain as day, “ive been thinking about you and i want you back.”

i know what im doing. nobody can say i dont know what im doing. im afraid all of the time and my hands keep shaking and i never sleep. i think im on fire.

[sacredwarrior88]

What's Love Got To Do With It (Spencer Reid x OC)

Summary: Zafina Cartwright meets Spencer Reid thanks to mutual friends and despite claiming to not want a relationship due to her traumatic divorce, she still desires Spencer especially physically which leads to her feelings becoming stronger than anticipated and she lets Spencer go to protect her heart and his.

Warnings: Age gap (OC is 10 years older), mention of sex (18+ only), angst, brief mention of serial murder and rape

Tagging: @reidsbtch who inspired me to write this! Thank you baby! @reiderwriter

What’s love got to do, got to do with it? What’s love but a secondhand emotion? What’s love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?

Ice Queen. That is what most people called her. Ice Queen. Although the nickname was born out of derision and dislike at first, Zafina Cartwright owned it and it eventually became a term of endearment. Being in the military for so long made her develop thick skin and a hardness that made even the strongest of men fear her. Softness wasn’t in Zafina’s vocabulary nor was it in her nature.

However there was one man that changed all of that for her and was doing things to her that she never thought it possible for a man to do. Dr. Spencer Reid who was an FBI agent and major genius as well as 10 years her junior. Zafina’s ex-husband Emmett Washington was a serial killer and rapist and he absolutely ruined love and relationships for her. At first, all she wanted to focus on was her career and raising her 4 kids but they were growing up and her first 2 kids were already grown and out of the house. Her last two were teens but definitely independent enough to take care of themselves. This gave Zafina a lot of free time especially since she was getting ready to retire from the Army.

Enter Spencer Reid. She had met him thanks to her childhood friend William Lamontagne Jr who was married to Jennifer Jareau. Zafina never expected to hit it off with the BAU but she did with a quickness and the attraction between her and Spencer was obvious to everyone. Zafina was skeptical about pursuing anything with Spencer because of the age gap between them as well as not wanting to fall in love ever again. But she had needs and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find Spencer very attractive.

Fast forward to a year later. Spencer was now laying in Zafina’s bed spooning her and kissing the back of her neck. Zafina shivered lightly as she felt a breeze against her naked body and smiled lightly as Spencer held her tighter. Every chance Spencer got, he was always at Zafina’s place and the sex between them was mind blowing to say the least. No man had ever been able to satisfy her like Spencer did! Not even her ex-husband! 

Zafina’s eyes widened as Spencer whispered those three forbidden words in her ear. The words that she told him to never say because she didn’t have the heart to love again. The words that she didn’t want to hear because she’d be forced to face her fears.

“I love you.”

“Spencer, don't do that. We’ve been through this. This is strictly casual, remember?”

“Yes I know. But let’s not pretend that we haven’t gotten closer in the past year either. I’ve been spending the night more and more and you’re even cooking for me every time I come over. I’m not going to deny my feelings anymore Zafina. I’m in love with you. And I would appreciate it if you tell me the truth. How do you really feel?”

Damn it Spencer! Why did he have to admit his feelings now? Things were going so well too! Zafina could feel her heart racing and she knew that she had to end things before someone got hurt. Deep down inside, Zafina knew that she loved Spencer too but she couldn’t risk having her heart broken again. Assuming she had one to begin with.

“I feel nothing Spencer. This whole affair has been purely physical for me. It’s been amazing don’t get me wrong but I have no love for you. I can’t give you what you’re looking for. I can only give you physical pleasure.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

If only Spencer could read minds and see that Zafina was lying. All she wanted to do was pull him into her arms and make mad, passionate love to him all over again while loudly declaring her love for him. But her fear was too strong to overcome and Zafina had powerful ice walls to protect herself. She wasn’t called the Ice Queen for nothing!

“That’s not good enough for me. I want all of you, not just a part of you. I can’t do this anymore Zafina.”

She didn’t say a word as Spencer got up and got dressed. What could she say? It wouldn’t change anything. It would just cause unnecessary confusion. Zafina had to let Spencer go for his sake as well as hers.

It was for the best. Or was it? Zafina’s heart was screaming for her to go after Spencer but her body wouldn’t obey. It was for her own protection. Or at least that’s what her mind was telling her.

“Goodbye Spencer.”

Those were the last words Zafina said to him before he walked out the door and her already fragile heart shattered into a million pieces.

I’ve been taking on a new direction And I have to say I’ve been thinking about my own protection It scares me to feel this way

[cambriancutie]

some info on my agent 4's (happy 4/4)

leander (27 yrs)

he's not from inkopolis, his family travelled around a lot to different countries and when he moved out he moved to inkopolis by himself. i think he has an accent

he has an older brother, i posted about him once or twice; he works for grizzco and lost his leg during a salmon run (this isnt about leander himself but i wanted to mention it somewhere)

he likes playing instruments but hes not good at any. he owns a acoustic guitar and a drum set (although he cant use the drum set often)

the scar from his chest is an injury he got from octo canyon, he survived it but the scar is pretty gnarly (took a couple years to heal completely)

umm i dont think i elabarote on their relationship a lot but hes married to guava:) been together for like..3 years maybe? not married for long. i think they got hitched around the beginning of splatoon3

hes actually a very anxious person and has a bad habit of biting the skin around his fingers

he's a very big squid!!! i keep on changing what species he is but his mother had giant squid genetics (he inherited a lot from her)

i think if he was a human hed be one of those guys who owns a big dog

dominic (17-18 yrs, i keep changing how old he is)

"inktoling" from the octarian domes, he doesnt remember much from living there as he left(was kicked out) at a very young age. he's very insecure about his "octavio scar" (no idea what to call it) he was made with unknown octarian and inkling dna. he has 2 other "siblings" that are out and about doing whatever, dont ask why these experiments are just roaming around octavio dont give a fuck

lived by himself at 14-15 yrs old, lived in inkopolis for all his life(other than the domes, of course). currently he lives with eight

he doesnt have a last name

he believes hes not very good at things, but hes very skilled, hes just a very anxious person

the reason why he's agent 4 is bc when leander was injured marie panicked and hired the next person she saw

he and eight are very close, they have similar shared experiences, however dominic doesnt remember as much as eight does

he does origami and bug keeping in his free time. his favorite bugs are beetles

i feel like i should mention his fins because they are an important part of his design, their based off of concept art where an inkling boy looks like he has fins on his head (I CANT FIND THE IMAGE ONLINE BUT I OWN THE ARTBOOK AND ITS REAL. I SWEAR). they have no use anymore since inklings dont really need them but they are cute.

favorite idols are off the hook. big pearl fan

really looks up to leander as a mentor figure

[devilsupdates]

I just saw this

Taking a Look at Potential Devils Head Coaching Candidates

TSN’s Pierre LeBrun mentioned some potential candidates for the Devils head coaching job, so let’s take a look at them.

By Jared W Moore Apr 3, 2024, 11:00am EDT

Two weeks ago, I wrote about what qualities the New Jersey Devils should look for from their next head coach. I didn’t really talk so much about systems or anything like that, other than I wanted somebody known for more defensive structure than the previous regime. I also talked about accountability and how there needs to be a lot more of that moving forward regardless of who the coach winds up being. If you haven’t read that, I’d suggest going back and taking a look at it as I’ll reference some key points from that article throughout this one.

Last week, TSN’s Pierre LeBrun mentioned during their “Insider Trading” segment that current interim coach Travis Green is a serious candidate for the job. In case the video doesn’t open for you (TSN can be weird sometimes with content being blocked geographically), here’s the quote of what LeBrun actually said in regards to Green and the Devils vacancy.

“My sense from talking to the Devils is that Travis Green is a serious candidate, absolutely. They love what he’s done since taking over for Lindy Ruff, the Devils feel they’re a different team, they play differently. But GM Tom Fitzgerald will probably still look at some other candidates just to have a thorough process here in terms of naming a head coach at the end of the year. So bigger names....perhaps, like (Craig) Berube, (Todd) McLellan, Gerard Gallant who hasn’t coached all year.....those are all possibilities but yes, Travis Green is very much a possibility.”

LeBrun is as credible an insider as there is and he clearly has connections within the Devils organization. His recent on-the-record conversations with Tom Fitzgerald and Martin Brodeur are proof of that. While circumstances can change and lists can change (Lindy Ruff wasn’t exactly the first choice the last time the Devils conducted an extensive head coaching search), LeBrun isn’t the type of insider who will throw anything at the wall just to see what sticks. I’m sure he didn’t just float the names of Craig Berube, Todd McLellan, and Gerard Gallant out there for no reason and on a whim if he didn’t hear from someone (Fitzgerald, Brodeur, agents, the coaches themselves) that they have some level of interest in the job. I also think if you have your sights set on a bigger name like Mike Sullivan, keep in mind that he already has an NHL head coaching job. I’ll be the first person to admit that this list is kind of uninspiring, but I don’t think its anything more than a few names LeBrun heard and that the Devils will do due diligence. I say all that to say that I wouldn’t look at the names LeBrun mentioned as a final list. Circumstances can change.

That said, that didn’t stop people from reacting to the list. Something that I was guilty of as well.

Devils candidates mentioned by LeBrun, ranked.

1. Berube

2. Gallant

3. McLellan

4. Getting hit by a bus

5. Green

After having a few days to take a step back and think more about it, I thought it would be a smart idea to take a look at each individual candidate, try to figure out why the Devils might be interested in them, and whether or not they’re the right fit.

Let’s start with the interim bench boss, Travis Green.

Travis Green

The best argument for Green getting the permanent gig might be the same argument for Principal Skinner getting his job back after Ned Flanders was fired as school principal.....he seems to know the kid’s names.

The Devils might indeed be playing differently under Green, but it’s fair to question whether or not they’re playing well, despite a 6-8-0 record since taking over.

On the season, the Devils are giving up 3.39 goals per game and are averaging just over 30 shots on goal allowed per game. In a small sample size since Green took over, they’re giving up 2.92 goals per game, however, I think that can be more closely tied to improved goaltending by Jake Allen (.923 since the trade) and Kaapo Kahkonen (.934) over what the Devils were getting the majority of the season. And while purely counting shot totals doesn’t tell the entire story of how the Devils are playing defensively, they’re giving up more shots on goal with Green on board than before (31.7 shots on goal per game). It might be true that players such as Luke Hughes have cleared the rookie wall, but this is also still a team that regularly plays Brendan Smith for some reason, so take all of this talk about defensive improvements with a grain of salt.

The Devils are also not doing so hot with the expected goals since the Ruff firing. And while I’m always the first person to point out that real goals mean far more than expected goals, it further supports the idea aren’t really playing all that well now, they’re just getting better goaltending than before.

It’s probably not fair to Green to expect him to dump Lindy Ruff’s system overnight, implement his own, and get the team to execute it when they’ve had little to no practice time and no full training camp. The Devils have played games in 14 of the 30 days since Ruff has been fired, after all. But we’ve also seen very little to suggest they’d have more structure defensively or maintain what they’ve been doing offensively. In fairness to Green, the power play has ticked up a bit since he took over. Whether that has more to do with Timo Meier taking over Tyler Toffoli’s spot on the top unit, and whether or not we should ignore that the PP was stagnant for a long stretch under Green’s coaching....I’ll leave that up to you to judge.

For what its worth, I don’t believe Green is a serious candidate to be the Devils next coach. Or at least, I hope he isn’t. John expressed his concerns with the power play back when Green was hired and I think a lot of what he wrote at that time has indeed come to fruition. Chris wrote the other day about how Green has overseen too many lifeless efforts to get serious consideration, including Friday’s loss in Buffalo, and it goes noted that a team that is supposedly still alive for a playoff spot somehow plays as uninspired, lifeless hockey that this Devils team plays.

Green does have some championship pedigree in his background with a championship at the WHL level with the Portland Winterhawks and a Calder Cup Final appearance with the Utica Comets in 2014-15, but its fair to be underwhelmed with his previous NHL head coaching run in Vancouver, as well as his tenure thus far as the interim Devils coach. I can see why Fitzgerald might want to give Green an interview as a professional courtesy, but I feel like hiring Green would be ‘settling’ and the Devils would be doing it because he’s there. The only way promoting Green makes sense is if they can’t get their preferred choice and they choose to wait until a better candidate becomes available sometime next season. Either way, the Devils should aim higher than settling for Travis Green.

Todd McLellan

McLellan brings plenty of experience to the table, as he has well over 1100 NHL games as a head coach and 9 playoff appearances on his resume. He is best known for his run with the San Jose Sharks, becoming the winningest coach in franchise history and helping the Sharks reach a pair of conference finals. McLellan landed on his feet after parting ways with the Sharks, getting the head coaching job in Edmonton, but he was fired early in his fourth season in Alberta. He took over in Los Angeles prior to the 2019-20 season and helped lead the rebuilding Kings to a pair of first round playoff exits, but was once again dismissed earlier this season.

McLellan is known for a defense-first system and clogging up the neutral zone with a 1-3-1 alignment. It’s not the most visually pleasing version of hockey to watch, and I think questions whether or not the Devils have the personnel to play that manner is fair, but McLellan has had enough success in this league to where he’s going to do things his way and want to bring this structure to his next head coaching job. I’m also old enough to remember the Devils being very successful playing a brand of hockey that could be described as somewhere between grinding, efficient, and boring.

I don’t necessarily hold it against McLellan that he got fired from his last two NHL head coach jobs (and ‘mutually parted ways’ in the third).....coaches are hired to be fired, after all. I also don’t necessarily hold it against McLellan that Cam Talbot was brutal for a six-week stretch around the time of McLellan’s firing because that’s the risk you run counting on a journeyman netminder in Cam Talbot in the first place. I also don’t hold it against McLellan that the Kings appear to lack the top-end talent a team needs to get past the Edmonton Oilers, something they have failed to do the last two seasons in the playoffs. Never mind being able to beat more complete teams like Colorado or Vegas in a Best-of-Seven series. And it should be noted that it appears the coaching change will work as the Kings have stabilized, Talbot has stabilized, and appear to be heading back to the postseason. Unlike Tom Fitzgerald, Rob Blake knew when to make the coaching change and will reap the rewards for doing so.

I do question whether or not McLellan will be able to get that level of buy-in and commitment defensively if the Devils were to hire him, as he has had issues getting that from players like Pierre-Luc Dubois and Kevin Fiala. Granted, Dubois has his own history of playing his way out of favor in markets he doesn’t want to be in and Fiala won’t be confused with Mark Stone defensively, but the Devils have their share of forwards who make cursory efforts in a 200-foot game. I question whether or not the Devils have the wingers who are capable of winning on the boards and being able to retrieve pucks. But thinking more about it, I do think with some tweaks on the roster that need to happen anyways, McLellan could be an interesting hire.

Gerard Gallant

Gallant, who as far as we know is the only repeat name from Tom Fitzgerald’s previous coaching search, is back in the mix, and understandably so. His body of work at his three most recent head coaching jobs in Florida, Vegas, and New York speak for itself as he has consistently gotten his teams to the postseason. Gallant is a former IIHF World Championship gold medalist as a coach, a former QMJHL League champion, a former Memorial Cup champion, and a Jack Adams winner. He also was the coach who led the Golden Knights to the Stanley Cup Final in their inaugural season, where they ultimately lost to the Washington Capitals in five games. Gallant has been known for being a players coach, to where he’d allow the skill players to play to their strengths and hold themselves accountable. That all sounds well and good, but when the opposition adjusts, Gallant’s teams in the playoffs have often been left having no answers. Lindy Ruff outcoached Gallant in last year’s playoffs, so turning around and replacing Ruff with Gallant would be a curious choice. Gallant has also been criticized for not doing a whole lot to develop young talent, and it’s probably not a coincidence that former #1 overall pick Alexis Lafreniere had a breakout season the second he left. In fairness to Gallant, his job is to coach the hockey team first and foremost win games, not necessarily try to squeeze blood from a stone in hoping that Kaapo Kakko is better than he actually is. Considering the Devils still have some young talent that needs developing in Luke Hughes, Simon Nemec, and eventually, Seamus Casey and/or whoever the Devils first round pick is, I think its fair to question whether you want Gallant involved. I said previously that I think the Devils team needs a kick in the pants and I don’t know that Gallant’s “let the players police the room” approach is the direction I’d go in when that clearly hasn’t worked this year under a different player’s coach in Lindy Ruff. Add in the fact that Gallant typically has a short shelf-life....shorter than he should considering his track record of success and that would suggest to me there’s something going on behind the scenes we’re not quite privy to. I don’t know if his hands off approach tends to lead to him losing the room or if he’s just a miserable jerk behind closed doors, but I feel like Gallant would be better suited with a more veteran team where the standard is understood. I think the Devils are still in the process of figuring out what that standard actually is. Just because I write on this blog that the Devils need to have the mindset that “this can never happen again” doesn’t necessarily mean the players will show up to camp next September with that mindset.

Craig Berube

The most interesting name on this list to me is Craig Berube. Berube coached two seasons in Philadelphia and made the playoffs once before famously resurfacing in St. Louis. After serving as an assistant coach on Mike Yeo’s staff, Berube took over for the fired Yeo and the Blues went from worst to first, ultimately winning the franchise’s only Stanley Cup in 2019. Berube followed that up with three more playoff appearances, but the Blues struggled to replicate Jordan Binnington’s brilliance in net as well as replace what Alex Pietrangelo brought to their blueline. St. Louis missed the playoffs last season and they fired Berube 28 games into this season when it became apparent things weren’t going to turn around.

What ultimately did Berube in in St. Louis was poor defense and goaltending, as their defensive zone play was not good. That said, I think a lot of these issues are more on roster construction than they are on the coach himself. Torey Krug was a desperation signing after Pietrangelo left for Vegas a few summers ago that hasn’t worked out. Colton Parayko has not been good for some time now. Their CapFriendly is littered with unmovable contracts and NTCs. Players like Ryan O’Reilly who play a good two-way game ultimately left. And while Binnington is having a good year this year, the 6x6M contract that he signed a few years ago has been a mixed bag. Some good like a .912 this year, some bad like a .894 over 61 games last year. Most of this probably isn’t Berube’s fault.

That said, I think Berube was instrumental for helping the Blues become Stanley Cup champions. They got the right level of buy-in at the right time. They played as a team and played a physical brand of hockey. Berube did play 1000+ NHL games as an enforcer, after all. Instead of letting the players hold themselves accountable, he holds them accountable (which might be part of the reason why Jordan Kyrou wasn’t too sad to see him leave). That type of hard-nosed style may have a shorter shelf-life than most coaches, but it can be very effective.

Berube would need to do a better job of having all five skaters engaged defensively than Ruff did, as that was ultimately one of the things that did both coaches in in their respective cities, but I think Berube’s approach would be what the Devils need at this time.

Final Thoughts

Upon further review, I’d probably rank Berube and McLellan as my top choices from LeBrun’s list, followed by Gallant and then getting hit by a bus. And then Travis Green. Again, its not exactly an awe-inspiring list, but its still early in the process, coaches who may ultimately become available such as Mike Sullivan haven’t become available yet, and there might wind up being another interesting name linked to this opening that we haven’t heard yet.

The pressure is on for Fitzgerald to get this hire right. Odds are if he doesn’t, he won’t get to stick around long enough to make a third coaching hire.

What do you all think?

[pastelbatfandoms]

The Red Widow- A Marvel AU

A/N: This is an Alternate Timeline set in the Marvel universe. As I am a reality shifter and this is one of My Desired Realities, most of what I write come from memories as Lilianne mixed with scenarios. So if things seem out of chronological order or "characters" seem different that is why. Also Black Widow is still alive in this.

Part 1

My name is Lilianne Liandre'. But you may know me by My vigilante name Shadow, an Agent of Shield, part time Avenger and X-Men (Woman) but before that I was...well let me start at the beginning.

I don't remember much of my childhood in Canada if I even had one...other than I could speak french and english. My parents and I moved around a lot, then there was a year of my life missing when I was around 6 or 7 I'm still not sure.

But I was told an organization took me in, convinced I had powers they could use, but gave up once they figured out I wasn't ready to learn how to control them.

My parents and I moved to Ohio,that was when I met and became close friends with Natasha and Yelena Romanov. Natasha taught me how to fight, where she learned it she never told me.

Then My parents died in a car accident when I was 9 years old, later I learned it was no accident. I was taken by that same organization that called themselves Hydra, for something called The Widow Project.

It was 1995 I was reunited briefly with Natasha and Yelena but they seperated us again, the sisters went with other girls crammed together in one military vehicle while I was taken by someone who they thought could control my shadows, my literal demons. A master of Mind Control, Baron Zemo...

Where I would be known as The Red Widow.

28 years later...

I woke up in a cold sweat again, another nightmare, the same place like every night. That damn Red Room, the memories haunting me of being strapped down while they tore me from the inside out at only 12 years old.

A familiar russian male accent, calming me, the words soothing "It'll be fine Princess. You can handle this, just a bit more." Zemo did nothing to stop them though even as I begged him too, as he placed his hands on either side of my head and I screamed as they took my choice away.

I gripped the sheets, willing the memories away, as I got up. Even so I punched the wall angrily making a large hole into it, damn super strength powers, the serum hadn't made us super soldiers like Bucky or Steve but we had above average strength and agility.

Shaking off the nightmare that was all too real. I looked around the room, confused at first then remembered this wasn't my room it was a guest room and it belonged to Baron Zemo...yes that Zemo, my mentor, my tormentor (or at least accomplice) and former lover for 10 years until I'd escaped with the help of Bucky Barnes then The Winter Soldier.

I was upset with Bucky for breaking Zemo out of prison, but he insisted we needed his help, so I let it go for now. I didn't have much choice in the matter, I mean I could leave but I didn't want to leave Sam and Bucky high and dry against The Flag Smashers (stupid name btw) especially since Bucky was My boyfriend now.

Oh did I forget to mention that? Yeah we've been dating for awhile ever since we reunited after the snap....Although the reunion didn't start off great.

4 years earlier...

A hand made of vibranium wrapped around my throat, slamming me hard against the wall outside the apartments in Budapest. His icy blue eyes stared into my hazel one's, emotionless and cold. "For the last and final time...who are you?" He ground out his tone sending shivers down my spine.

"Bucky...It's Lili, you don't...remember me..." I gasped around his strong hold.

He froze then, his expression changing as he realized who I was finally. We had been fighting for over an hour, it was about time he remembered me. His grip eased as he released his hold on. His breathing uneven and and his eyes wide with shock. "L-Lilianne?" His voice hoarse with disbelief.

I took a breath, smiling in relief. "Didn't think that would work...Hey Buck."

"I can't believe it. I-It's been too long. You're actually here. It's you." Bucky reached out to touch my face but froze at the last second, his expression faltering before he continued. "So much has changed." He muttered. It was impossible for him to hide his surprise. The snap had only been a year but to them it felt like 5 and it showed the year had left their mark on both of us.

I looked down for a moment. "I know...Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk."

Bucky nodded in agreement, "Yes that would be...smart." His tone as serious as his expression. It was clear a lot was on his mind, I could feel the tension in the air as we walked side by side.

"Let's go to my place. It's more secure." Okay so it wasn't actually my place it was Natasha's she was letting me use it until she got back...whenever that might be....I grabbed the keys opening the tall ornate but worn doors.

The place was small but cute despite being an assassin Natasha had good taste, but then so did I if I say so myself. Even if mine was more on the alternative side and hers was more kitschy.

we walked through the living room and straight through to the kitchen as I opened the retro fridge trying to appear calmer than I felt as I rummaged through it before finding some drinks. "Beer?" I offered him, holding up the glass bottles.

I could feel his eyes boring a hole into me, noticing how different yet the same I was. He nodded, "Sure." His response seemed nervous as he took the bottle I offered him and sat at the round table in the center of the kitchen, the chairs mismatched in bright orange and teal but still cute.

I stood then staring at him, trying to appear calm, detached like I had been bred for but inside I was a jumble of nerves same as him. "So how'd you find me? Where did you think I was this whole time?"

Bucky opened the bottle then taking a drink. After a moment he took a breath, setting the bottle down. "I don't know...I looked all over for you after the snap...when I couldn't find you I panicked...I started thinking the worst. I thought something had happened again." His eyes dropped to the table not looking at me.

I took a sip of my beer, surprised. "Really? last I heard you didn't care what happened to me, I was just a burden. Something you to deal with." But to me he had been my everything. I thought.

A look of confusion spread over his face for a moment before the memories started to resurface, of how he treated her, basically ignoring her while in The Avengers and then going back into cryo sleep. "I was scared after what had happened before...after what I was made to do. I thought it better to keep my distance then risk hurting you that way." His voice was quiet, the regret in his eyes clear.

I just looked at him then still upset. "The Winter Soldier's words then...not yours?"

Bucky gave a small nod, "Yeah, I...the time I spent as The Winter Soldier has always been hazy. I was on edge, paranoid most the time, hoping I wouldn't lose my mind again. I was different then, nothing like I am now. So yes those words were his."

I gave a small nod of my own, not looking at him, "I thought so. Are you better now?" I asked. Well as better as we could be, I knew working for Hydra what they did to the human psyche. Saw what they did to him, what Zemo did to both of us...I took a breath, willing the memories away.

Bucky sat in silence for a few minuetes, reflecting on my question as he tried to find the right words, "Yes, I mean I'm a lot less on edge then before. After everything that I happened, I've had time to make amends to change, I'm still working on it."

I gave a sad smile with a nod, "Me too. I found a balance. I don't work with just shadow anymore." A glow seemed to light up around me then faded as I said that.

Bucky raised an eyebrow in curiosity at that, leaning forward. "You learned more? You use light as well now?" Bucky hadn't thought someone could control both light and shadow.

"Yes. Well Lucifer's lighter side. Demon's don't just work in the darkness. I've been laying low but I do still help The Avengers and XMen occasionally. I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more against Thanos, it's just The XMen needed me and I was helping Yelena."

Bucky nodded in understanding, he knew we had also been avoiding each other at the time. Which seemed petty in the scheme of things. The new information about the demons though surprised him, he knew I was into magic, that I had that potential that's why Hydra had wanted me after all but... "So you actively work with the demons now like as equals? So you can control light and shadow?" His expression was stil stoic but I could see a flicker of something else in his eyes.

I smirked, "Ah yes I was still developing that when you met me...still just being an agent. I can still fight as you saw but yeah things are different now."

Bucky looked impressed, his voice laced with admiration and interest. "I had no idea you were so powerful...controlling both light and shadow. You may be able to give Wanda a run for her money."

I smirked at that. Knowing she had been the one to teach me how to practice real magic, as well Magneto but I decided not to mention that...only replying with, "I had to do something. I only ever worked with them for small things before and what Zemo tried to get out of me...but after I left Hydra and Shield, I made some more deals, they helped protect me." Illyana Rasputin had been the one to introduce me to most of them.

Bucky nodded, still trying to process what I told him. "Makes sense. You said you were laying low after the snap, what have you been doing all this time?"

I sat down across from Bucky then as I answered, "Odd jobs mostly. I've also been working with Natasha and Clint, they needed help with some young supers. I met Kate Bishop, I like her, we became fast friends. But otherwise I've been trying to lay low, May and Coulson know where I am but thankfully they haven't been pressuring me to come back to Shield."

Bucky listened intently at me, then said "Sounds like things have worked out for you. Have you ever thought about coming back to Shield? Maybe we could work together again?"

I looked at him, frowning. "Aren't you worried? what if Hydra tried to infiltrate again?"

Bucky paused at that, as he seemed to mull it over, leaning back his eyes wandered from mine as he gave a small shrug. "Honestly? I haven't had the chance to worry much about it. I've been more focused on...other things."

I look curiously at him now, "Such as?"

The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly as he met my eyes. The look on his face hinted at what or rather who he was referring to. He seemed unsure how to say it but ultimately gave in and spoke, "Such as...you. I've spent the last year thinking about you. I've missed you."

But not enough to come find me....I hesitated for a moment before replying, "I missed you too...despite everything that happened..."

"Despite everything, despite what I said and did. I regret letting you go and I...I'm sorry." It was the closest he'd ever come to apologizing and I knew it took alot for him to say that.

"It's alright...I know you were just protecting me by getting me out of Hydra. I get that you coming after me also wasn't personal, that they made you." I replied a bit softer than before, referring to when he was still The Winter Soldier.

Bucky nodded glad I understood him for who he really was not who they had made him. "It wasn't personal, you know I would never want to hurt you." He said softly looking into my eyes.

"I know." I looked up at him then not being able to contain the emotions in my eyes. Despite the fear of getting hurt again, of losing each other, the feelings I held for him never went away no matter how much I had tried to bury them.

Bucky couldn't help notice the emotions in my eyes. Seeing how much I cared, I always had. "I...I thought I'd lost you. I've carried that guilt with me for a long time. i felt powerless, I couldn't do anything to protect you, I couldn't stop them from...." A sigh left his lips as he shut his eyes to try and block the memories, of Zemo making him hunt me down, to either bring me back or kill me...

I wanted nothing more than to hug him then but I held back speaking softly, "Hey we were both being controlled. You had no choice...I get it...I honestly never thought I'd see you again."

Bucky shifted his eyes from mine, I noticed his hand squeeze around the beer bottle trying to keep his emotions in control. "I'm glad you get it....and I know...I didn't think I'd ever see you again either."

I notice his change in demeanor and knowing he was not good with emotions decided to change the subject. "Oh I heard your working with Sam Wilson now? Falcon? Here I thought you didn't get along."

Bucky laughed slightly a bit embarrassed, taking a swig of his beer before replying,"Sam and I have our disagreements sure...but we work well together. Though I will admit when I first heard he was going to be the new Captain America, I was not impressed."

"Of course not. Wish it was you?" I give him a knowing look, Bucky had been Steve's best friend for well centuries of course he'd feel like he deserved it more...or maybe he didn't and that was the issue.

Bucky looked at me his eyes widening in surprise as he chuckled and shook his head. "You know me too well. Though I think it was for the best. I think Steve would want Sam to be Captain America...It's a different lifestyle, one I'm not entirely ready for. I feel like Steve was made for it literally. whereas I fit better with the fighting and action. I'm not sure if I'm ready for a role like that. At least not now anyway."

I nod in understanding, "I get it. Despite my new...gifts. I'm not sure I want to be front and center or a leader again."

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the irony that the both of us held so much power yet were content staying in the shadows. "I guess that makes two of us. We're more suited to the fight, not the politics. I don't know about you but I prefer the chaos to those meetings."

"Definitely. I knew there was a reason we got along." i joked. Not like we weren't similar in other ways...

Bucky seemed to relax more then I noticed. he took a long sip of his beer, I noticed his eyes roam over me. And took a sip of my own beer,smirking.

"You know me so well...maybe too well." A playful smirk crossed his lips but he was only half joking.

"Same goes for you." I agreed looking at him, "But that's not a bad thing right?"

"I guess not..." The playfulness in his tone disappeared then, his growing more serious. "I guess we have always been close...you always knew what I was thinking, didn't you?" Bucky shifted in his chair, turning slightly to avoid looking at me. I could tell he was reliving something he didn't want to.

I narrowed my eyes in concern, "Yeah like right now...Bucky what's wrong?"

Bucky took a deep breath before answering, "It's just that...I'm remembering things. The memories have been resurfacing and their bringing back other feelings I was suppressing. I know it's stupid but I don't like thinking about the time I was with Hydra...or when we fought...I never want to be that person again."

I nod in understanding. Knowing just what memories he was thinking of, not just being brainwashed and coming after me but the same thing happening to me as well. "Yeah...me either, trust me those demons are a lot harder to deal with then the real ones."

"that's the thing..." Bucky shifted in his chair, leaning on the table. his voice becoming more gentle, "You're a survivor...I should have known you'd be able to handle yourself as everything that happened."

I sighed,looking down. "I shouldn't have to deal though...WE shouldn't have too." Then I asked him "Do you still get nightmares?"

A hint of sadness crossed Bucky's face then as he nodded, "Yeah...I still get them...you too?"

"Yeah. Almost every night. My guardian demons try and protect me but they can only do so much." Not to compare but Bucky had been an adult when all that happened. Lilianne had been a child, for along time Hydra was all she knew...

Bucky looked pained at my answer, "I'm sorry...I'd take them from you if I could. I know how hard they are to deal with..."

"I know you would. I am grateful you got me out when you did, yeah I was almost an adult and Hydra ended up infiltrating Shield anyway...but at least you tried." I smile at him, wanting to take his hand but not sure if it was time yet.

Bucky looked at me, knowing what I wanted he held out his hand towards me. I smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad our reunion didn't end up in a fight well mostly." I grinned.

Bucky laughed softly, "I guess I've mellowed out with age. You did try and kick my ass."

I scoffed, "You started it. That metal arm of yours hasn't lost it's grip that's for sure."

Bucky smiled back, "That's true. And you haven't lost your touch either. those kicks are still powerful."

"Good to know training teenagers hasn't made me weak." I joked.

Bucky laughed, his eyes lighting up in amusement, "I don't know anyone else that can fight that good, especially with how small you are." He joked.

"I mean I was trained by The Black Widow and then was made leader of The Widows which was ironic." I mused.

Bucky chuckled at that, "I always thought it was strange and ironic for a teenage girl to lead The Widows. I guess being around them helped your skills..."

"Oh yeah I mean I had no choice really..." I trail off at the memories then try and lighten the mood again. "But I'm glad I haven't gotten rusty."

Bucky seems to know what memories I'm referring too, he had been Natasha's instructor in The Red Room after all. But he didn't bring it up, instead he smiled and said "I think you could still kick my ass in a fight...again."

"Wanna bet?" I smirk giving him a look.

A smile spread across his face then, I had his attention now and he was intrigued. He'd never pass up a chance to spar with me. Bucky looks at me a small smirk and hint of confidence appearing on his face. "You think you could still take me?"

"I know I could." I grinned back.

"Is that so? You think you have the upper hand?"

Suddenly I disappear into shadows only to reappear behind him. "I know so." I whisper into his ear.

I noticed Bucky's breath catch in his throat, the smug smile turning into an amused chuckle, "Alright then, I won't argue with that. Maybe you do have an advantage." Bucky gets up from the chair now turning to face me, grinning in amusement.

"Alright I'll make it easy on you. No powers. just strength and skill." I smirk backing away and geasutering for him to come towards me, it had been awhile since I'd had real competition. I was also glad I had worn my black tactical outfit instead of street clothes.

"Deal." Bucky nodded, stepping up. "Cmon on then." I wink at him.

Bucky smiled back at me before raising his fists, waiting for me to make the first move, to see what my strategy would be no doubt. His eyes glued to mine. More than ready.

I smirk, feinting a left kick then use the wall to push off into the air and kick him with my right leg.

The sudden kick catches him by surprise, my move faster than expected as I kick the side of him sending him back a few feet. Bucky kept his composure though raising his guard against me. He took a defensive stance not wanting to leave himself open again. This fight wouldn't be so simple.

I notice his stance, getting him off his feet wouldn't be so easy. Good thing I was quick. I used my momentum to leap over Bucky then, "Surprise." Putting a foot in front of his to catch him off guard. "No one said we had to fight fair."

To be continued...

A/N: Thought this was getting too long, more sparring with Bucky will continue in part 2 and a bit of Angst...cause we know how he is with feelings.

Part 2

[callipraxia]

oh!!! this is a few hours later, but i also wanted to ask what the lost-but-recently-revived project actually is, because i've never thought to ask in an ask box until now. when my tablet is dead. eugh. it must've been mentioned before, but if you'd like to say more, i'd love to learn about it!!! i feel like i've been talking too much about my own things lately, and i wanna read about others', specifically yours >:] (i remember something about gideon and the axolotl, but that might have been a different project---regardless that sounds whimsy af) if you dont feel like it or anything, you can ignore this :^

The lost project actually hadn’t been discussed much, if at all; it’s a post-canon one-shot where Stan and Ford go back to Glass Shard Beach, reasoning that Stan probably needs to see the place again for the good of his memory and that Ford should probably pay some form of respects to their deceased parents. Stan has a video camera. He ends up documenting just how much everything has changed. He and Ford have Feelings about this, and then they run into someone unexpected. It’s...hardly high drama, so it probably doesn’t make sense that it’s taken this long to start rewriting it, but so it goes with my short pieces.

The Gideon thing is a spinoff/sequel to FWJB I’m considering – specifically, what happened to him after the final battle. It begins ten years later, with Gideon waking up to discover that someone appears to have recently jammed the majority of a tube of drugged lipstick down his throat. Since said lipstick would knock someone unconscious and induce mild amnesia in a much smaller quantity, it’s done a real job on him, which leaves him trying to figure out where he is, how long he’s been there, who drugged him, why that person drugged him, and, in fact, most of who he is – he knows his name is Gideon, he knows he should really not tell anyone that, and very little else. Not even why it’s so important to hide his identity.

Naturally, once he figures even a tiny bit of that information out, he promptly finds himself with even worse problems than he started with.

Other ideas...what the heck, I might as well talk about them a bit, not least to, er, document them in some fashion. Been thinking that writing them down might be a good idea anyway, so here we go:

1) You once suggested I kill Ford and make Stan have feelings about it. I’ve started that one, too; it’s the one I wrote down a lot of and then typed up and then lost...last week? Week before last? Week before last, I think. In this sad little universe, Ford manages to break his neck and die like six months after Weirdmageddon. Stan takes this poorly.

2) In other possible returns to old stomping grounds, I’m intrigued by the idea of going further into how Agent Trigger, of all people, somehow managed to slip under the radar, climb the ranks of the DFSI, and end up recruiting Dipper. Similarly, I’d like to do at least a short return to the IG Epilogue situation, if I can think of a good plot for it beyond Dipper’s initial reaction to “...did that guy really just take his face off like a pair off sunglasses and call me by name??” Plus, of course, if I’m ever in a fluff mood, I gotta write what happened when Soos made good on his promise to loan Ford the deeveedees.

3) Road trip time with Fiddleford and the Stan Twins! What could possibly go wrong?

4) So, Powers. Tell us more about how your agency spotted signals from Gravity Falls thirty years ago. What did you guys do then?

5) Writing more of McGucket’s memoirs, and/or the horror novel about the building of the Portal that I’ve had in mind, and/or a between-the-episodes incident where Fiddleford, struggling to remember who the Author was and why he’s so darn difficult to remember, convinces Tate to talk to him about the past, resulting in them going over a bunch of letters Emma-May had kept and Fiddleford struggling to figure out what was real vs what he was lying about, all while he and Tate are having feels (and sometimes explosive arguments) in the present.

6) Some college years stuff. I have vague ideas for something about the construction of the mind-control tie, and for something else about That One Time Fiddleford Convinced Ford To Come With Him To Tennessee Over The Holidays.

7) More angsty one-shots...stuff like Stan pretending to be Ford at Filbrick’s funeral, and the first day Ford went back to high school by himself, and some stuff with small Tate, and...you get the picture.

8) I will admit this only because of your current tagline – I, too, have entertained the idea that Stan has actually read Moby Dick. Specifically, that in his last months in school, he and Ford ended up in separate classes for part of the day because Ford was taking calculus or something, resulting in Stan having to take the standard-issue American Lit class by himself, and the teacher essentially annoying him into making a good-(ish; it is Stan we’re talking about) faith effort to do his book report properly...only for it to all end on the most depressing note possible, of course. I’ve told myself I cannot actually write this, but… *shrugs*

9) Early in his years in Gravity Falls, Stan visits the library. The librarian is someone he finds attractive. Somehow, one thing leads to another and he finds himself being strong-armed into helping with the town science fair, despite a) him not really being a scientist, only playing one in front of tourists and b) his very specific hatred of science fairs.

10) It is September. Everyone is going back to school. Wendy discovers that Tracey and Quattro exist. This is the one that had me complaining about how I missed the apocalypse not long ago – it’s harder to 99% ignore their infatuation with her in a lower-stakes scenario, and I have no idea how to handle that.

11) It is the academic year. Pacifica struggles to deal with her new social milieu.

12) Some other AU ideas...mostly “what if someone didn’t think of [clever thing] in time” disaster scenarios. There’s also the Better World AU, where...let’s just say it’s not a very nice place at all, at least for some people.

So, there you are! It’s...the majority of the ideas floating around my head at the moment. Some could merge together into one project. Some might not ever see the light of day. But I’ve got plenty of material to work with, just have to get my head back in order for writing, and I’m pleased to say that my head is getting closer to order by the day.

[spooky-fm]

Phantom Thief

Ao3. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Part 5. Neal Caffrey is technically an alien. Or is he?

The agents perk up at Peter's approach, and he quickly gives them the condensed version of the calls he just made.

"Marshals are happy enough that I have Neal with me and that it was an involuntary destruction of the anklet. We will have to fill out some paperwork, but I think you are pretty familiar with the process," he smirks at Neal, who mock-groans, failing to mask his relief. "Hughes is a little suspicious, but luckily there is a very important meeting today, so he is busy talking to his bosses about budget and supplies."

All four of them grimace at the thought of being stuck in one of those meetings, though Peter tries to conceal it. He is supposed to be leading by example, and he cannot show any disdain for the bureaucracy. Even if he really hates it. 

"What about Blake?" asks Jones. "He helped me trace the call and knows that we were looking for Neal. We took most of the suspicious stuff out, but it's pretty obvious that whatever is missing is not standard kidnapper gear."

Diana nods in agreement. "Since we involved Agent Blake from the start, he would have to submit a report to the file, meaning there is going to be a location on file. We can figure out what to put in our reports without putting Neal in danger, but it's going to be hard to explain why we did not search the premises with a dedicated team."

Neal smiles weakly at her, and Peter is reminded that they will also have to solve the glowing skin and green eyes problem. 

"Neal," he calls out. Said green eyes snap to him. "I am going to phrase this as delicately as I can, but I need to ask some questions to figure out the plan here." Neal nods. He looks a little resigned and a little anxious, but it seems like the earlier show of support has done wonders to his confidence. "Okay, good. So, first of all, how soon can you look like the picture we have of you on file? I am assuming the fact that you had to show yourself to us like this means that's currently impossible."

Neal smiles teasingly. "What makes you think I have any control over it? Or know how to change?" He seems to be genuinely curious as well, so Peter thinks he should answer properly, instead of waving the teasing off, but Diana snorts and beats him to it.

"Aside from the obvious 'I can explain everything' speech, meaning you know enough to explain, you don't seem too concerned. You want to cover the tracks, yes, but not for running away, but for staying here without consequences. Which means you are counting on being able to stay without anyone finding out about the whole glowing skin situation." Neal flinches, and Diana shoots him a reassuring smile. "Anyone else, I mean. We got you, Caffrey."  

Neal is looking a touch wild in his eyes, but she valiantly powers on. "Since you didn't do anything to prevent us from seeing you like that, you either cannot do it without something else that's not here, or you cannot do it yet because of something to do with the events of this morning or your kidnapper's actions," she frowns thoughtfully. "Possibly due to whatever that energy is that you are 'especially susceptible' to," she mimes quotation marks with her fingers.

Neal makes a so-so motion with his hands. "Kind of, but not because of the shields, those are just to contain me. My, ah, abilities are mostly blocked right now. Vlad has this gun with special electrical charge, and I've always been extra vulnerable to electricity..." he says the last part absent-mindedly, like he is talking to himself, which gives the agents a moment to school their faces from abject horror that appeared there the moment Neal, their sweet, caring, carefree Neal mentioned being shot with a gun and electricity with off-handedness suggesting it was a common occurrence for him. They are mostly down to their normal expressions by the time he blinks and re-focuses on them, but some concern is obviously there, because he quickly clears his throat and changes the subject with a hasty 'never mind that!' and they drop it. For now. Peter is going to sic El on Neal the moment this blows over. 

"You are right, of course," Neal says quickly, not quite meeting their eyes. "I tried transforming back in the room, before you came here, and then again before we got the door open, but," he grimaces at the memory. "Let's just say it didn't work and leave it at that." 

Peter puts that into his 'things to be concerned about' mental list. 

"So how do you know you will be able to change again?" asks Jones. 

"I may not have seen Vlad for more than fifteen years, but it seems he hasn't learned many new tricks. The gun is mostly the same, with some cosmetic changes. It mostly relies on electricity shorting out my powers and lasts maybe 12 hours at most, though being stuck in this form is new. Usually, I am forced to transform into my human form— "

Neal's mouth snaps closed, and he stares at them with wide eyes, looking surprisingly terrified for someone who has been walking around them with glowing skin and freckles in the shape of Big Dipper and other constellations Peter doesn't quite recognize. He levels his flattest, most unimpressed glare at the CI. Neal shrinks a bit under it. Good. 

"Neal," Peter says slowly and clearly, as if talking to a small child, satisfied when Neal bristles in offense at the tone. "If any of us didn't at least consider that you might not be human the moment we saw you come out of that room looking like that, we might have needed to turn in our badges and look for other career options. There is good at disguises, which you undoubtedly are, and then there is having fangs, pointy ears, glowing green eyes, and constellation freckles that glow brighter when you are excited."

Neal dips his head down with a sheepish grin, and his face is suddenly flooded with dark green color. For a second, Peter is afraid that he crossed some kind of line, before Jones breaks the short silence with an awe-filled voice.

"Holy crap, you blush green!"

The green color intensifies and travels down to Neal's neck. Peter huffs out a laugh and makes a mental note to tease him about it later.

Something from Neal's speech digs itself into his mind, though, and Peter takes a moment to go over the words again. "Wait a moment," he says, horrified, "You are thirty-two!"

Neal nods, confused. "Yes, Peter, we have established that before. It's in my file and all."

"Yes, of course, but you said you haven't seen this Vlad for fifteen years, so it must mean that he shot you enough to be familiar with the gun's effects when you were in your teens. And definitely a minor!" 

Both Jones and Diana have matching expressions of horror on their faces — again. Neal's face is carefully blank.

"Ah," he says in an even voice. "Yes, I suppose it does."

Peter senses this is not a topic he should be poking at, but he resolves to come back to it later. He pushes his unease down and changes the subject, for which Neal at least seems grateful.

"Alright. Okay. Judging by your previous experiences, we have about ten hours in which you should stay hidden from anyone else. Considering the marshals and the anklet, it's going to be at my house, but it's up to you if you want to tell El or not. She will be home in a couple of hours, so we can easily hide you before then."

Neal looks at him wide-eyed.

"You would lie to Elizabeth?"

"I don't lie to my wife, but she knows I cannot tell her everything. It's not exactly my place to tell anyone about this, so it is up to you if you want me to ask her to keep away from the guest bedroom for today. I'm pretty sure if I tell her it's about you she will even happily find something to occupy her outside the house for most of the day."

Neal nods slowly, then shakes his head a little. 

"No, it's ok," he murmurs. "She can, uh, it's ok if she sees- It's fine."

"Alright," Peter agrees easily. "Tell me if that changes. For now, we are all going to my place. Then Neal will make us some tea, because he is the only one allowed near El's tea cupboard and then we will figure out what to put into our reports and how to deal with the rest of the situation."

They nod, finding no issue with the plan. Neal's smile looks a little smug after the comment about the tea, but Peter chooses to ignore that and move towards the exit.

Lugging the shopping cart up the stairs is not an exciting prospect, but then Neal seems to steel himself and mentions that while he may be limited for now, he is not completely cut off from his 'abilities'. Peter is not sure how that is helpful until Neal pokes around the cart for a moment before gripping it carefully around the bottom and lifting it almost above his head. Diana whistles in appreciation, and Jones doesn't stop staring at him in wonder all the way to the top.

Peter falls into step with Neal on their way to the car. "So, when you say 'abilities'," he starts casually. "You obviously mean more than the shape-shifting thing." 

He glances expectantly at Neal, who crinkles his eyes at him, face mostly hidden behind Jones's scarf. 

"Yes, Peter, I do." He seems to hesitate a little. "It's honestly a lot of things, and I'd rather get the backstory out of the way first, because explaining the abilities without it is a bit like explaining the specific techniques of impressionism to someone who is wearing a blindfold. Possible, but much easier if you can just wait for them to take it off and see the paintings."

Peter huffs at the metaphor but lets it drop.

"Not even a 'short version' for us?" Diana asks teasingly.

Neal shakes his head in amusement. "I can do that, but I don't think you'd be very happy to hear it without getting the long one immediately. I don't think... Well, you guys freaked out about the gun thing, and it really is not anywhere close to the worst or least believable part."

That kills the lighthearted atmosphere pretty thoroughly. Peter tries to not imagine the horrors that his CI had to deal with, apparently as a kid. He is pretty sure he will learn the truth soon enough, and he's going to need his emotional control as strong as it can be until then. 

He unlocks the car and opens the trunk.

Neal sighs while transferring the loose tech parts into some bags Peter always has in his car for emergencies and unexpected grocery runs. Peter notices that he keeps one of the bags with him, making sure to not jostle it too much. He makes a note to keep away from it. And maybe lock it from Satchmo.

"Yeah," Neal says quietly after closing the trunk. "Sorry about that. It's not really going to be a very nice day for any of us." He smiles wryly, climbing into the backseat with Jones. "Not exactly the fun 'meeting an alien' experience you might have been expecting," he adds, grinning teasingly at Diana. She blushes a little but doesn't deny it.

"Are you?" asks Jones, unable to fight his curiosity any longer. Neal raises an eyebrow. "An alien, I mean."

Peter keeps his eyes firmly on the road. 

"No, no," Neal laughs brightly, before pausing for a moment. Peter's heart sinks a little. "Or, well. That's actually... hmm. I suppose that depends on your definition of an alien."

"How can someone be an alien by one definition and not by another?" Diana asks with a puzzled frown. 

They are standing at a red light, so Peter can look at their faces. Neal smiles widely, showing off an impressive array of sharp teeth. Peter has a feeling that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to be very bad for Peter's blood pressure. 

"Well, you see, I was born on Earth to human parents, that much is true. I grew up on planet Earth, in the country of the USA. Amity Park, Illinois state to be precise. This would usually preclude someone from being considered an alien when they are on planet Earth." 

He smiles even wider, somehow, at Diana's confused expression. "Yes," she agrees. "That is a pretty good indicator that someone is not an alien."

Jones snorts. "I sense a but, Caffrey."

"But!" Neal agrees gleefully, and Diana's eyes narrow suspiciously. Peter wishes he didn't have to watch the road and could just close his eyes and pretend to sleep until they were in his nice home, drinking warm tea and coming up with a plan to falsify evidence in a federal investigation. "But! I was not born on this planet! Neither were my parents or any of my ancestors. In fact, I had never been to this planet, the planet we are on currently, until a little after my 16th birthday."

Peter carefully relaxes his grip on the steering wheel. They are almost 20 minutes away from his and El's house, and he cannot deal with earth-shattering revelations and mind-bending puzzles while driving. 

"Now, hang on a minute, Caffrey," Diana frowns. "You just said that you were born and raised on planet Earth! You can't just turn around and claim that you had not set foot on it until you were 16. That makes no sense at all!"

Jones smirks. "Unless you are claiming that there is another planet named 'Earth', somewhere in the universe, with a country that has the same state and abbreviates the same way as ours."

Neal chews on his lower lip thoughtfully, long enough that Jones's confident smirk starts to strain and finally shakes his head. "I don't want to just say no to that, because a universe is so vast and varied that I couldn't be absolutely certain of this, but I highly doubt that another planet that is that similar to ours exists in this universe."

Diana huffs, frustrated. "Meaning you are not from it, got it."

Neal smiles beatifically at her, and she scowls darkly. "I will even amend my statements," he continues. "Fact one: I was born and raised in Amity Park, Illinois, USA, planet Earth, which is the third planet from the Sun, located in the Solar System, in the Milky Way Galaxy, which is part of the Virgo Supercluster. Among others." He grins and licks his lips in excitement. With the fangs, the gesture looks evenly split between adorable and threatening.

Jones mouths the words 'Virgo Supercluster' confusedly.

"Fact two: We are in the US, also on planet Earth, in the Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Virgo Supercluster. And others." 

Neal's smile widens. Peter sighs. He is getting a headache, but he is happy to deal with it in silence if that means Neal is smiling and joking around and not shaking apart in his arms. He would also like his agents to be a bit quicker on the uptake, but it has been a long day, so they get a pass this time.

"Fact three," Neal almost chirps. Peter contemplates whether the difference in his biology is strictly external. "I was not born on this planet and did not grow up here either. I arrived here for the first time soon after turning 16 and have lived here since then."

He nods to himself and watches Jones and Diana with an expectant expression. Peter stops at a red light and catches Neal's eye in the rear-view mirror. His CI raises an eyebrow, and Peter smirks, looks at the other occupants of the car, and turns back, smile turning smug. Neal's eyes widen a little, and he practically beams in excitement. Literally, as well, the faint glow around his skin growing slightly more intense, and the constellations on his cheeks twinkling brighter than before.

Peter re-focuses on the road. 10 minutes to home. Diana shakes her head angrily.

"This doesn't make any sense," she cries out finally. "Is this some cosmic edition of '2 truths, 1 lie'? At least two of those are mutually exclusive."

Neal shakes his head. 

"Nope."

"It's a special Caffrey version of the game," Peter can't stop himself from butting into the conversation. "Called '3 truths, 1 existential crisis'. You cannot win unless you shatter your opponent's worldview at least once per round." Neal smirks. "He is going to be playing it a lot today, I suggest you get ready for the experience."

Jones narrows his eyes in suspicion. "You figured it out!" he accuses Peter. "You know what he is talking about!"

"Maybe," Peter hedges.

"You absolutely do, you have that look in your eyes, the one you get when you and Caffrey close a case. Man, that's not fair," Jones slumps in his seat. "What am I missing here?"

"Whatever it is, you are not the only one," Diana grumbles dejectedly.

"Wait, that's it!" Jones straightens up in excitement. "Of course! 'Not the only one', 'mutually exclusive', 'existential crisis', it all makes sense together. The planets are the same planet, but you were born on one and came to live on the other, which means that you are not from this Earth, but you are from an Earth. Some version of the planet that is almost identical to ours, but located somewhere else, like a mirror reality, or, or—"

"Or another universe!" exclaims Diana, her eyes wide in wonder. "Is that true? Is the theory of the multiverse correct?"

Neal pauses before answering that one and considers it carefully. "While the theory of the multiverse is not incorrect, the existence of my world has nothing to do with the rate of expansion of matter. Our universes are basically identical, down to languages and modern pop culture. It's maybe easier to call them parallel worlds, or split timelines. The theory of the multiverse, on the other hand, is mostly concerned with universes with entirely different laws of physics and processes of creation. Most of those have no life as we understand it, though I am far from an expert on them." He looks so modest and contrite in that moment that Peter snorts, almost crashing through the door of his garage. Neal Caffrey and humility really don't mix well. Neal winks at him and continues. "I haven't really gone to those places, especially since most of them are uninhabitable or incomprehensible for human or human-adjacent minds."

He looks at them, bites his lip, and adds, quietly, "Which I am by the way." 

Neal goes even quieter at that, holds very still and speaks carefully and deliberately. Peter finishes parking the car, pushes the 'close' button on the garage door remote, and gives all of his attention to Neal. This seems important. 

"As you have guessed," Neal says, intense in a way they have never seen him before. "I am not completely human. But when it comes to intelligence, I am just as sentient as a human: emotionally, cognitively, spiritually, and in any other way. I am not more or less sentient than any of you or any of the people you know or the rest of the world. Is that clear?"

It feels like a vice grip is squeezing Peter's heart. Did Neal just imply that someone considered him...? Hot fury rises in his chest, and he pushes it down, squashes it mercilessly. He reminds himself that Neal needs him to be supportive right now, not to stalk off to fight unreachable demons.

He's missed Jones's confused but firm agreement and Diana's horrified assurances, and now Neal is staring into his eyes from the rear-view mirror. Peter twists in his seat to look him in the eyes directly. 

"Neal," he says quietly, intently. "If anyone implies that you are not sentient ever again, I am going to use every resource at my disposal to ruin their life and make sure that you never have to see them again." 

Neal stares at him, as if transfixed. The loud clang! of the garage door closing against the floor makes them both flinch. Neal averts his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. "Yeah," he whispers. "I know." He puts his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. "Sorry," he continues louder. "I brought the mood down again."

Peter shakes his head incredulously. 

"Don't apologize for standing up for yourself," Diana tells him, pulling off her seatbelt. Peter notices that he is the only one who is still wearing his, and quickly unbuckles it and gets out of the car. Jones puts his left hand on Neal's upper arm and gives him a moment to pull away or protest before draping the arm across his shoulders and pulling the CI into a half-hug. They stay like that for several moments, both losing some of their tension in the comfort of a physical touch. When they break apart and climb out of the car, Peter puts his arm around Neal and draws him against himself, keeping the man close even as they climb up the stairs to the Burke living room and are greeted by over-enthusiastic Satchmo. 

Peter looks down and smiles at the younger man. "So, about that tea," he starts. Neal raises his right palm with a laugh.

"Say no more," he answers and disappears into the kitchen. 

Peter motions the agents to sit down at the table and goes to grab a set of coasters and some pens and paper. While Jones and Diana freshen up and take their seats, he texts El with a short summary of the day's events, leaving most of the exciting things out, and places a call to Agent Blake who will get the dubious honor of picking up their work for the day. 

He hopes Agent Blake has better luck with Catherine Woolridge's expense forms than Peter.

AN: If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, is it actually an alien lifeform?

Also, hey, Danny's life is kinda fucked up from the point of view of a normal person, isn't it. But at least he can now geek out about space and physics as Neal Caffrey, who is not supposed to have picked up a handmade realistic scale model of a mars rover in his life. The newfound competency in physics and engineering is definitely not adding to the agents' mental crisis.

[clickerflight]

do you have anything like a character info or picrews for your adventurers story? since there seems to be a bunch of lore outside of what you’ve posted so far :)

i already thought the whump week story was interesting so i’m definitely going to have a look at what you’re writing about them this time !

— honey <3

Of course!

This story is one I started developing when I was 14 and it has grown with me. The whole worldbuilding and everything is so complicated it takes literal hours to explain it.

So, the general idea is that in the entire universe there are thousands of galaxies and plenty of them have some inhabited planets here and there. People can travel to other planets, but most of them don’t get involved in space travel. Most people instead use the complicated art of portology (this is mentioned in the story and I could sit an explain portology by itself for an hour)

Anyways. In the beginning there were five base races. One of these were the Telari, the first dragons. They were meant to be the protectors of the universe (protecting planets, helping end wars, guarding ambassadors, stopping apocalypses etc) and they did a good job until about 1000 years ago when they vanished. Most people believe some malevolent force set a trap to capture them, leaving the universe vulnerable.

So people stepped forward and created an organization called the Kahtir (this generally translates to memorium) and now they perform the jobs that the dragons left behind.

This whole story/thought project/daydream fodder thing is named The Adventurers because this story focuses on a team called that. Explaining how they all met is another hour of exposition but they became Teliar, agents of the Kahtir. They’re specifically a resource team which means they’re sent into most of the really fun jobs. The big magical catastrophes and whatnot.

Got distracted giving context. This story was built this way so that I could make my own worlds, but also include worlds from books and movies and such (this also has an in universe explanation but I won’t get into it now) so in the story of you see references to things like Star Wars and whatnot, that’s why.

And on to the actual character lore!

Laurance is actually based off a character in a show I watched as a kid but he’s changed so much that you can’t really tell anymore lol. He was born on a medieval planet and trained to be a guard. He got caught up in a cult on a pocket dimension and got killed and brought back to life as a demon and kept as a slave when he would swear to the ‘god’ the cult worshiped. He ended up escaping with a part dragon (scaleon) named Anisha who later became his wife. So here’s some are of him.

And yes, I drew them.

And a drawing I did last night for my Halloween wallpaper of his demon form

And then the other main character in this short story I’m writing is Matsu. He’s also based on an anime character I watched as a kid, but he’s changed so much that all that really remains the same is the color of his hair.

I have a yearly tradition of drawing him with a boba drink.

Matsu is a half mer so his other form really only shows up when his gills are immersed. This drawing was done by my friend.

Here’s a drawing I did of Laurance and Matsu I did a while back.

The other two members of the Adventurers show up in the short story towards the end so I’ll throw a couple of images here. I don’t have much are of Kira because she has been going through a redesign and it has been a mess.

Anisha

She is a part dragon known as a scaleon but she is actually stunted, 2-4 feet shorter than normal scaleons and her face is way more human looking than a scaleons is meant to be.

And we have kira. She is fully human but has slight abilities with shapeshifting. Only enough to change her hair and eye color occasionally. She’s from a high tech society and her parents while traveling through space to a new planet when she was still in the womb were in a radiation accident. Not enough to cause too many problems, but enough that any unborn children on that ship were later born missing limbs. She’s missing one arm but that’s not a big deal. She’s a techno wizard (a literal wizard that mixes magic and technology) so her prosthetics are nearly perfect

So, that’s the lot of them. (Not including all the kids they keep adopting over the years)

There is so much lore. I could talk about this all for days if anyone showed interest.

Thank you so much for asking!!! I’m very proud of this story and it’s complicated worldbuilding so I love getting the chance to talk about it, especially done I don’t usually get to because of how complicated the lore all is and how long it takes to provide adequate context for it.