#i have 3 days left and after that I need to head to storage to grab my things

[rin-a-dingding]

Oughhh I want this fuckass job to be over with

I just want to be at home relax and draw my blorbos in peace

[gor3-hound]

WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE - NAOYA ZENIN

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

a/n: commission for the very lovely @nexysworld !! naoya is so very pretty and i was scared to write him BUT !! he was actually very fun to write. i love my asshole nepo baby :3 hope you guys enjoy, fb and reblogs are always appreciated <3

cw: 18+ content, dead dove-ish, pussy inspection, mistreatment of hybrids, forced cosmetic procedures, dub-con bcs power dynamics, praise, degradation, use of shock collars, caging, mentions of filing teeth, ear cropping, touching unhealed wounds, tail play, misogyny, spit, mean naoya, dehumanisation, orgasm denial, forced spaying, p in v, creampie, dacryphilia, neglect

word count: 3.2k words

Naoya’s bored.

It might’ve made you feel better if he had a secret soft spot - that the pressures of his clan have left him lonely and desperate for companionship, but that’s simply not the case. There’s no profound self-realization that comes with his actions, no sense of guilt when he pays one of the maids to suck him off before he kicks her to the curb.

He’s just bored. He’s always found the best cure for his boredom was to find a pretty little plaything that was willing to put up with him. But there’s only so much you can do to a human girl before she’s skittering off. Women value their life more than their job these days, a thought that has him scowling and breaking the shit in his room as soon as his latest slut cuts him off.

He needed something more permanent. A pretty thing that he can use to get his dick wet. One that isn’t crying for a relationship or money when he’s finished. He’s always found those hybrids pretty cute, and it seemed like the perfect thing to keep him entertained. A girl that knew she was lesser than him. A pet he could play with that would forgive him after a couple of head scratches and a new toy.

It’s that thought that has him dragging his ass to the nearest adoption center, his eyes scanning the kennels until he spots you.

You seem like a shy little thing, but he doesn’t see an issue with that. He’s always had more fun breaking girls in, and you’d be no exception. He hums thoughtfully for a moment, his head cocking to the side as he looks you over. He doesn’t address you or ask you any questions, but he doesn’t need to. You were cute, and that’s all he really cared about, anyway. He calls a worker over, asking to get some time alone with you.

“Well, we don't really have any private rooms for you to-”

“How much?” Naoya cuts him off without even gazing his way, his eyes locked onto your form. No point buying the goods if he doesn’t get a trial run, first.

“I'm sorry?” The worker stutters out. Naoya hates that shit. Pisses him off more than anything, acting like he doesn’t want the Zen’in’s money. Naoya knows better.

“You heard me. How much? Doesn't need to be a fancy room. Shit, I'll take a storage room. I gotta check she's worth the money, y'know?” He says with a sigh, his brows twitching slightly as he fights back a scowl.

Seems to work well enough, because the worker leads him to a staff room, telling him to wait right there. He crosses his arms over his chest, making him sigh in annoyance. He waits impatiently, but he lights up when you come padding into the room, looking all nervous.

”No need to be scared, girl.” He tells you, but his words come out in a grunt. He doesn’t really care if you’re scared of him or not, as long as you let him get a good look at you. He moves towards you when you don’t budge, gripping your chin between his fingers.

His gaze is sharp, his dark brown eyes narrowed as he looks over your features. He reaches a free hand up to your floppy ears, giving them a flick. A frown crosses over his features as he gives you an appraising gaze , clicking his tongue. “They’ll have to get done. Don’t like ‘em.”

His fingers and thumb dig into your cheeks, forcing a gap between your teeth so you open your mouth. He shoves his fingers down your throat, sighing when you gag and splutter. “Gonna have to train that outta ya. Those canines are gonna have to get fixed, too. Bet they’d fuckin’ hurt if they caught my dick.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your spit off on your cheek, smirking when your nose wrinkles. He reaches down, tugging on your fluffy tail with a thoughtful expression. “That can stay, though. Cute.”

”Bend over the table, pup. Spread your legs, lemme see your cunt.” He orders, releasing your tail and taking a step back. Your hesitance irritates him, and his hand comes out to smack you across your face so hard that your head snaps to the side, your ears ringing. “Don’t make me say it again. I fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Your tail is tucked between your legs as you shift to lean over the table, those fluffy ears pressed down firmly against your head. Doesn’t bother Naoya. He kicks your feet apart, pulling your pants and underwear down in one tug. The tail is a little bit of an obstacle still, so he sighs and scratches behind your ears.

”C’mon now, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He coos, making sure he finds the spot behind your ear that has you pushing back against his hand. His tone is condescending, but that dumb puppy brain of yours can’t register that. He grins as your tail perks up and wags, showing you off to him. “That’s better. Lemme get a look at that pretty pussy.”

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect.

He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door.

”Hey! I’ll take her.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Naoya’s unpredictable.

It’s hard to settle into a routine with him. He can be easy to handle one moment, only to switch up at the next second. He’s never kind - that’s not the right word for him - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments. If you’re good, he’ll let you curl up at the foot of his bed. Sometimes he’ll even let you sit at his feet when he’s relaxing, petting your head absentmindedly.

Those moments are few and far between. For the most part, he’s cold. He doesn’t pay much attention to you unless he’s feeding you or if it’s play time.

He shows you the most attention when he wants to play. He’ll praise you, scratch behind those freshly cropped ears standing tall on your head and run his fingertips through the fur of your tail until it’s wagging fast enough that he knows you’ll be pliant and eager for anything he wants to do to you. You’d tried whining, begging, pleading… Anything just to get him to look at you and show you some affection, but you quickly learned that the only way you could guarantee something from him was to paw at the front of his pants until he’s twitching against your hand.

His choice of affection has a bit of a side effect, and you’re unlucky enough that Naoya notices it. All it takes is one little ‘good girl’ or a scratch on your head for you to be soaked, whining and rutting against any part of him you could reach. He loves feeling you wrapped around him, but he loves teasing you even more. So, naturally, as soon as realizes how desperate his touch makes you, he decides it would be a fun little game for him to see just how needy you could get.

He’s leaning back against the couch when he spots you padding over, that fluffy tail slowly picking up speed the closer he gets to you. He can’t help but chuckle when he spots you settling on the floor by his feet, a smirk spreading across his face when you rest your chin on his thigh. Your gaze flicks up to his face, a longing expression on your features. His hand comes down to pet your head, fingers scratching your scalp gently.

”You need something, girl?” He coos, tugging on one of your bandaged ears until you whimper, biting back a laugh when you lean into the touch regardless of the pain that comes with it. You’re always so eager to please, it drives him crazy.

“Need you, please.” You whine, your ears tilting back slightly, unable to press flat against your head due to the wrapping keeping them up so they heal pointed. He grins wolfishly at your words, yanking you by the collar until you’re straddling his thigh, a mischievous going in his eyes.

”Go on then, pup. I’m too tired to deal with you myself. You can handle it, can’t you?” He hums, giving your head a pat before crossing his arms behind his head as he leans back on the couch. You give him a curious little head tilt, confusion twisting your cute little face. He loves it when you give him that look - you’re just a dumb puppy, nothing more than entertainment for him. He can’t help but feel amused, shifting his leg so he can press his thigh more firmly against your core.

”You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure it out, puppy.” You seem to get the picture, a soft, needy sound rising in your throat as the hard muscle of his thigh presses against your cunt through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips start shifting on their own, rutting against him desperately. Your mouth falls open, artificially rounded canines digging into the flesh of your bottom lip.

Your hands come down to rest on your own thighs - you know better than to touch Naoya without asking, and you don’t want this to end so soon. Your nails press into your flesh, leaving indents on the surface of the skin. Naoya’s face is a mask of indifference. There’s no sign of enjoyment from him, the only hint that he isn’t completely unaffected by your actions is the tent forming beneath the fabric of his pants. You whine when you realize he isn’t even looking at you, staring over your shoulder to look over one of the paintings on the wall.

You want him inside of you, want his strong hands to grasp your thighs as he fucks into you. The thought alone has you panting, your head hanging as your tail starts to wag again, steady behind you as you grind against his thigh more harshly. Your breaths come out heavier, your cunt soaking through the fabric of your shorts to coat his own pants.

You’re so overwhelmed with your rapidly approaching orgasm, how good it feels to finally be this close to your owner that you don’t see his hand reaching for his phone until it’s too late. You yelp as your collar zaps you, the fur on your tail standing on end as the shock makes you spasm, your hips quickly pulling away from his thigh.

”I didn’t say you could cum, did I? Bad girl.” He hisses, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you across the floor, forcing you into your crate with a swift kick. He slams the door behind you, locking it before stepping back. “You can stay there for the rest of the night. If I hear you so much as fuckin’ squeak, you’re not getting let out for the rest of the week. Got it?”

You nod quickly, but that’s clearly not good enough for him. He taps at the screen of his phone a few times before pressing his thumb down for a longer period. The voltage is higher, and he doesn’t let up on shocking you until you drop against the blanket in your crate, your fingers twitching. He scoffs at the sight, letting go of the button.

”Pathetic. If I’m talking to you, I expect an answer. Surely you’re not so stupid you’ve forgotten how to use your words?”

”N-no. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll be quiet.” You whisper, your voice shaking slightly with the effort it takes you to hold back tears.

”Stupid mutt.” He grunts, fiddling with his trousers until he can free his cock. His jaw tenses in slight annoyance at how quickly that has you perking up, your eyes wide with interest like he’s holding a damn treat up for you. He steps closer to your crate, pressing his length down against the bars above your head. Naoya can’t help but laugh as you try to crane your head to get a taste of him, his eyes shining with amusement as your tongue laps between the gaps to catch his skin.

”Look at you. You were crying a second ago, and now you’re drooling like a bitch in heat? You are the single most pitiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.” He muses, letting out another chuckle at the whine that spills from your lips when he pulls away from the crate.

”Go to sleep.” He grunts as he tucks himself back into his trousers, his eyes trained on your as he takes a step back. “If you’re good enough, I might let you out for breakfast.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Naoya is wordless as he approaches your cage.You can tell from his narrowed, fox-like gaze that he hasn’t forgiven you from last night, his jaw set tight as if you hadn’t just made a small mistake. Naoya expected nothing but perfection from his pet, and it was something he made abundantly clear. He opens the door, his eyes narrowed in on your slumped over figure.

”Out.” The words are short and clipped, but firm, leaving no room to argue. It wasn’t a request, but a command. You weren’t stupid enough to ignore it.

He watches you crawl out of the cage, kneeling at his feet on the cold floor. You keep your gaze trained downwards, unable to meet his eyes. You look so pathetic it almost angers him, a crease forming between his brows as looks down at you. He slowly strips his clothes, his eyes locked onto you the entire time.

“Strip.” You listen, pulling your clothes off and adding them to his own pile on the floor. There’s no praise now, no attempts to get you wet enough to take him. He just pushes you down onto all fours before spitting directly onto your cunt as he forces his cock into your tight heat. It’s meant to be a punishment, but all it takes for you to get wet is the feeling of him stretching you out, your tail swaying side to side as his tip presses up against your cervix.

”Such a slut… Dripping as soon as you see cock. Bet it doesn’t even have to be mine, hmm? Could pass you around the whole clan and you’d gladly let each and every one of ‘em mount you until you were sore and dripping cum.” He spat, his hips rocking forward harshly. He builds up a steady pace, pounding into you brutally.

”Wouldn’t…” You manage to force out, brows furrowing as you try to rock back against his hips, your walls pulsing around his length. “Just you… want your pups.”

”Aww, that’s cute. You want me to breed you, girl? Is that it?” He lets out a cruel laugh, tugging on your tail to pull you back against him with each thrust, his cock brutally pounding into your tight cunt. “You think I’d let you carry my seed? That your bastard children could be sufficient heirs for the Zen’in clan? I’d never let you have puppies. Stupid fuckin’ bitch. Didn’t even realize I got you spayed? You just believe every little thing I tell you, huh?”

Fuck, he really likes the look of your tears. Nearly has him cumming from the way you look sobbing on his dick, the way you clench around him like you're trying to milk him dry despite how upset you are. It doesn't matter what he does to you, not when you're so forgiving. He knows he can say whatever he pleases and you'd still come running back to him, tail tucked between your legs like you were the one in the wrong.

He presses down between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest flat against the hard-wood floor as he keeps your ass in the air with his grip on your tail. With your back arched, the new angle allows him to fuck into you deeper, bullying himself into you without any regard for your pleasure. You were nothing more than something to use to him - a glorified fleshlight, at best. He only let you cum because of how tight you squeezed him when you did, how hot it was to see your dripping down his length.

This wasn’t about you right now - it was meant to be a punishment. You'd be lucky if he decided to let you cum in the following weeks, let alone today when he's still pissed off at you for almost breaking one of his rules.

His hips smack the fat of your ass with every thrust, low grunts spilling past his lips as he wraps your tail around his hand, smacking your thigh in frustration when you yelp at the discomfort that comes with it. He's increasingly glad with every pained whimper as his grip tightens that he decided not to dock your tail. It's so much better than a leash could ever be, forcing you back onto his imposing length everytime it gets too much for you and you try to crawl away.

“M'gonna cum.” He groans, harshly forcing your upper body further against the floor as he leans his weight on the hand pushing you down, slick sounds filling the room as he thrusts himself brutally in and out of your twitching pussy. He yanks on your tail, pulling you back against him as he cums with a grunt, his cock twitching inside of your abused cunt. He ruts his hips into you shallowly as he rides out his high before pulling out, smacking your ass once before standing up, ignoring your pleas to let you cum.

“Stupid mutt.” He spits out, rolling you onto your back with his foot, pressing it down against your stomach to hold you down. He spits on your face, a huff of laughter leaving him as your nose wrinkles. “I've been too good to you. Made you think you have a say.”

“You are a toy.” He continues, pulling his foot away with you before moving to gather his clothes. He pulls them on, leaving you panting and leaking his cum on the floor. “Something for me to use when I get bored.”

He makes his way to the door, shooting one last glance at you over his shoulder. “The quicker you learn that, the better.”

[hard-core-super-star]

Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff

ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate x reader

summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]

warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!

wodcount: 3.2k

a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3

part one | part three | part four

* * * * * * *

Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.

You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.

To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.

Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)

You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.

Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.

Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.

There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.

You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.

You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.

Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate

It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.

As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.

But the fantasy doesn’t last long.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.

Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”

She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.

It makes the mess you’re both in real.

“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”

“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.

Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”

You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.

“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”

Everything crashes into you at once.

The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.

Without her.

“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”

“It’s not easy for me either-”

“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.

“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.

Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.

“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”

She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.

“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”

She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.

You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.

So, because you do know her…you walk away.

It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.

So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.

You restart.

It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.

You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.

Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.

You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.

At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.

It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.

The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.

To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.

“Oh, shit.” She groans.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.

Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.

“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”

“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.

You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”

The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.

Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.

“Try me.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”

There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.

“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”

“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”

“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”

“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.

A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.

It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.

“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

She didn’t give you any other choice.

And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.

“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”

You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”

“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”

“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”

You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.

Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.

There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?

It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.

You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.

You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.

Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.

“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.

All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.

Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.

It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.

But she doesn’t.

All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.

You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.

You love her.

Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.

Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.

You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.

And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.

You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.

“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”

The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”

“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.

She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”

Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.

“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”

A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”

It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.

The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.

“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”

“y/n-”

“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”

The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.

You don't hear a word she says.

You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.

You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.

You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.

“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”

“I know.”

The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.

Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.

“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”

“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.

Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.

The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.

It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.

You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.

Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.

You could even get used to life out here someday.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.

Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.

[vin-taege]

hii am i doing this right?🫠 i hope so lol i saw you saying your requests were open and wanted to ask for chishiya x reader who is really shy or has social anxiety and something like niragi bothering them? i want all the angst and all the fluff lmao

if you aren’t comfortable or just don’t want to do it that’s totally fine of course!:) i hope you have a great day :3

I'll Handle It

Summary: Niragi has been fucking with you mainly to get on Chishiya's nerves—but this time, he's gone too far.

Genre: fluff, a smidge of angst (Niragi being inappropriate)

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 1.4k

Note: This is set before Arisu and Usagi came to the Beach! I've been caught up in school, so I apologize for being absent for so long :((

You tried to steady your grip on the glass, despite the condensation making your hold on it slippery. The poolside was significantly more difficult to weave around after Hatter's return from his game. Bodies were slick with sweat and adorned with glowstick necklaces, bumping and grinding all over the tiles. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and alcohol, and the night wasn't dwindling to an end yet.

You normally would be as far away from here as possible, but your willingness to help a friend trumped your despise for large crowds. Earlier in the evening, Tatta had asked you if you spotted Ann anywhere, with him saying that he needed supplies from the locked storage closet in her office. You had shaken your head then, and you could've left the conversation at that. But you thought that he already had a lot on his plate, especially after being the Beach's errand boy. So, here you were, trying to find An in this beer-fuelled rave area.

The earphones Chishiya gave you helped to block the loud bass from the speakers. You had "swiped"—technically, borrowed, but the man thrived off teasing you—them from him during the morning. It helped calm you down and prevented the feeling of being overwhelmed. When Chishiya figured out this habit of yours, earphone pairs started to mysteriously pop up on your bedside table. When you confronted him about it, he only said that it was for you to stop getting his own pair.

Typical.

Unbeknownst to you, Kuina and Chishiya were presently on the other end of the party, trudging through the thick crowd as well.

"Are you sure you spotted them here?" He glanced back towards her, raising his voice a little so Kuina could hear him above the music.

"Yeah, I saw them just leave the bar a couple of minutes ago," she shouldered past a particularly rowdy guy. "Why'd she come here?"

"Knowing them, it's probably a favor," he sighed.

It was when they got into the middle of the crowd that he saw you standing anxiously near the beach chairs. Your back was towards them, an oversized jacket covering the majority of your body. You usually didn't care about showing skin, but you didn't want to give the militants fuel to bother you. But no matter what you wore, people like Niragi always found a way to be a creep.

"Shit, we need to get there," Chishiya muttered to Kuina. His eyebrows knit, gaze hardening as he saw a familiar black and white giraffe-print polo coming closer and closer to you. "Kuina, remember the medicine I gave you a while back?"

You felt a hand on your shoulder, gripping you firmly before spinning you around. You scrunched your nose, greeted by the sight of Niragi's crooked smile.

"Are you lost, little puppy?" he mockingly cooed.

Instinctively, you cupped a hand over your drink. Taking a step back, you stood your ground and peered up at him. Despite mustering all your courage, your voice came out wavery. "Go away, asshole."

He cackled as you warily looked at the gun slung over his shoulder. With a wicked glint in his eye, he closed the distance between the two of you, a hand snaking behind your lower back and forcefully pulling you towards him. "All that bark from such a small bitch. Where's your pussy of a boyfriend?"

"Not wasting his time getting shit-faced here, unlike you," you snarled. Your heart was thumping, skin crawling in disgust. He reeked of alcohol and his touch was uncomfortably getting lower. "If you won't let go of me right now, I'll break your fucking nose."

"I'd like to see you try. You won't be so mean after I'm done with you. Why don't you just give in and sleep with a real man tonight, huh?"

Before you knew it, you slammed your fist into his face. The music blared on in the background, but you swore you heard a faint crack. Your drink spilled all over him, ice cubes flying out. He staggered backward, clearly not expecting you to actually do it. Despite being good at games, everyone knew you to be mild-mannered, usually avoiding conflict.

But damn, it was so difficult for you to restrain yourself any further from people who gave you the ick.

A hand was suddenly on your elbow, tugging you away from the now undoubtedly fuming man. Chishiya landed a kick square on Niragi's chest, hurtling him towards the pool.

"We should run," he whispered close to your ear. Taking your hand in his, you slid out of the crowd and into the protection of the halls. Chishiya led you towards his room before shutting the door behind him. He peered out the peephole, waiting for a few minutes before deeming it safe.

When he turned to you, you were sitting quietly on his bed, busying yourself by winding your earphones up and tucking them away.

"Why were you at a party?" He sat down next to you. To your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. You knew he wasn't one to initiate physical contact, and you respected that. But having him be this affectionate to you was admittedly a nice change.

"Was trying to help Tatta find An," you murmured into his chest.

He hummed, starting to stroke your hair with his hand. "You okay?"

"I handled it," you lazily grinned at him. Truth be told, you felt proud of yourself.

"I know you did. But I'm asking you if you're okay, not if you handled it," Chishiya's voice was muffled against your hair. He was still very paranoid of what the militants could do to you, especially after news broke out of the two of you dating.

You looked up at him, cupping his face with your hands. "I'm okay now. I just really want to take a shower."

You offered him a small grin, one which he didn't reciprocate. You could tell he was still mad over what happened. You wondered how much of it did he see in general. This type of anger within him was familiar to you—one that was silent, but by all means, still threatening. Above all, it was the type of anger that only showed when it was directed towards himself.

"Shiya, I'm okay, I promise," you firmly repeated.

"I saw how he had his hands on you," he said darkly. "I'll make sure it won't happen again."

"Don't get into trouble because of me okay?"

"Niragi can't keep harassing you all the time. Even if Hatter did something about it, he wouldn't listen," he tsked. "I'll handle it, okay?"

One look at him told you that there was no convincing him otherwise. You just gave him a hesitant nod, before allowing yourself to be cuddled again. His lithe fingers pressed softly against your waist, his other hand twirling strands of your hair.

Outside, you could still hear the faint sound of the party, but it seemed miles away now. At that moment, there were only you and him—and nothing else mattered.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

"I'm sorry for dragging you into that mess, ___," Tatta looked at you mournfully.

"You should be." You dug an elbow into Chishiya's side lightly, making him roll his eyes.

"It's okay, Tatta. I'm fine now," you offered him a reassuring smile.

You were seated in the lounge, basking in the silence of the morning—mainly because a majority of the Beach's population was hungover.

"You know, if it makes you feel any better, I heard Niragi was bed-bound since last night or something," Tatta said, before munching on the bread he had for breakfast.

"Wow, I didn't know I could hit that hard."

Kuina let out a light chuckle, Chishiya smirking next to you. You flitted your glance towards the two, raising an eyebrow in question. Kuina caught your expression, giving you a playful shake of her head.

"Tell them why, Tatta."

Tatta let out his own tiny smile. "Well, from what I've heard, someone snuck laxatives into his drink last night. He downed it right after he got out of the pool and realized you guys were gone."

You let out a snort, turning your attention to Chishiya. The platinum blond avoided your gaze, though a playful smile was on his lips. He stated defiantly, "It wasn't me."

"Oh, it was definitely me," Kuina beamed. She then threw Chishiya a pointed glance. "Wonder who gave me those drugs though."

"Still wasn't me," he replied cooly, crossing his arms.

"You are unhinged," you laughed at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

[cheriladycl01]

The month of winning - Alex Albon x ZimbabweanOlympicSailing! Reader

Plot: As an old money girl, having been part of your dads sailing club for years you become an athlete, getting a silver medal for your country and a new boyfriend!

You and Alex new it was going to be a busy few weeks, You'd been training hard for the Olympics your whole life. Your dad was part of a fancy yacht and sailing club in your home town. And he was a very very wealthy man, some of the yachts he sold ended up in places of the world like Monaco.

You'd grown up with just your dad, and were homeschooled and were constantly helping him with the boats and that started your love for sailing as a sport. You started to compete in championships when you were old enough and your father had taught you everything you know about the sport.

Everyone you grew up with and Alex came to watch you at the Paris Olympics. And it was a moment to remember getting silver. You were stood on the podium your flag flying in the wind making the biggest grin ever to appear on your face.

You could see Alex and your dad in the stands cheering loudly for you, making you wave and blow them a kiss.

After your win, you wanted to travel home to see all your old friends and family who couldn't go all the way to France for the Olympics, and wanted to congratulate you on your win. It was the off season for Alex too, so you both got to spend loads of time sightseeing Zimbabwe.

Alex loved animals, mainly pets but that didnt stop him from freaking out when you guys took a day to go on a safari and see all the animals your dad would take you to see in the reserves as a kid.

He used probably 3 sd cards for the digital camera he brought to take pictures and filled out storage on his phone too with the amount of pictures he'd taken on just the safari alone. It was crazy, and when you asked him to take a nice picture of you, it would take him ages scrolling through to try find it when you wanted him to send it to you so you could upload it to your Instagram.

"Baby, come on its a picture of me vs a picture of a cheetah how cant you pick me out!" you laughed looking over his shoulder as he's scrolling through trying to find the picture of you at the watering hole.

"Look, I took so many of all the animals and only like 4 of you because the rest were on your phone!" he exclaims before he gasps and see's a gorgeous picture of you.

"Awwww look at my pretty baby!" he grins showing you the picture making you shake your head in disbelief.

"Right, send that to me now... before you loose it!" you chuckle. And he does air-dropping it to you there and then.

After a beautiful week in your home country it was time for the end of Alex's summer break and for him to get back in the car racing. You were excited because he'd extended his contract with Williams and you knew that even though this year wasn't going very well for them, that each race the data they were gathering making it easier to predict which upgrades were needed and worth it.

Monaco, being as historic as it was came with a few upgrades that not only had Williams buzzing but the whole paddock because it looked like they might be in the position to fight for some points this weekend unlike Alpine and Sauber who unfortunately were still struggling with various issues.

You could sense in both Alex and Logan how excited they were for these huge next steps.

"How's the car feeling this weekend? It's looking nicer to drive, more steady on both of you" you questioned the boys who both nodded with grins on their faces.

"Yeah, it's an incredible change it feels so smooth now. Like it felt like we were fighting the car before but now it's complying with us, its a great feeling!" Logan answered only for Alex to nod in agreement.

"Yeah i can definitely see us grabbing points this weekend!" Alex smiles.

Two days later on the Sunday Alex was in P11 and Logan was defending P8 incredibly well and there was only a few laps left to go. Ahead of Alex was two drivers. Yuki Tsunoda in P9 right behind Logan and Lewis in P10.

Last lap action was every fans favrioute but as a WAG it was the most stressful. Especially for you as you knew Alex, even though he was a smooth driver would start to push more than he might be able to handle.

You were stood with his mum and sister and Logans girlfriend and parents biting your nails in anticipation as he pulled up alongside Yuki and Lewis, and taking the inside line managed to overtake both of them.

A cheer came through the paddock upon realizing that Logan also just made the overtake of his career getting him up to P7, placing Lance Stroll in between the two Williams drivers.

They crossed the finish line, Logan in P7 and Alex in P9, a double points finish for Williams, the first points they'd gotten this season and the garage and pit wall went wild as you all ran out to go find the drivers to celebrate.

Alex was grinning from ear to ear in his post race interview, his eyes kept meeting yours behind the camera and interviewer making him chuckle every now and then.

"Amazing race today Alex, first points for both you and Logan. How are you feeling having this and your girlfriend winning and Olympic medal all in the same month!" she asks and his grin widens if that's possible.

"Yeah, i mean I'm so thankful to everyone this weekend for making it happen, it was definitely a long time coming getting these points but we've done it. We're happy with this weekends progression and yeah we're gonna push harder next weekend in Montreal! Obviously I'm so proud of my amazing girlfriend as well, she has worked so hard for everything she's achieved and yeah she deserves the world for the support she's given me over this weekend" he answers.

"Thank you Alex!" she smiles before letting him go and getting ready for Logan.

"What a month" he sighs pulling you into a hug and kissing the side of you head.

"What a month indeed!" you grin back.

y/user

Liked by alex_albon georgerussell63 landonorris and williamsracing

y/user: From a weekend in Zimbabwe Sailing and winning Silver to a weekend in Monaco, Fast Cars and Formula One all w/ Boo 🔥

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y/dads/user: Amazing medal sweetheart! So proud please come back soon!

-> y/user: we will! Alex loved all the animals and seeing you guys again!

fan1: so proud of this woman for bringing silver home!

alex_albon: two weekends I’ll never forget! Big celebrations incoming 🫶🏼🇿🇼🇹🇭

-> fan2: omg he put their flags together!

-> y/user: Love you Alex and I’m so great full you were there! 🫶🏼❤️

fan3: she just looks expensive, you guys know what I’m saying?

-> fan4: she comes from old money so she has those vibes!

Instagram Story Caption:

From 🇿🇼-> 🇲🇨

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part VIII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VIII

Since winter was settling in, there wasn't much work to do outside. My father had cast a powerful spell on the surrounding grounds to keep the water pipes from freezing, and the dead branches to always find their way to our wood stores. 

There was no work to do outside in the gardens, except harvest the fruit(if any) of the already existing plants and trees. 

It was the season of oranges and strawberries, though, and they had grown abundantly. I kept what I needed for myself, then windowed the rest to my father to sell in the market or make wine. He sent me the wine bottles which I stored in the basement underneath the villa. Father had dug it out for storing wine and made a cold storage partition for other items. 

When I was working outside, Azriel remained at a respectful distance and watched me. I had become used to it by now, and there were a couple of times where I had left some of the oranges and strawberries by the front door for him. 

It was my third round of harvesting oranges and I had put up a ladder against a tree, balancing on the rungs with a basket in one hand. I carefully plucked each fruit and deposited them in the basket. There was one fruit just out of my reach, and I leaned a bit further to try and grab it. Before I knew it, I had slipped off the rung and was tumbling on my way to ground. I didn't even have the time to scream, but Azriel intercepted just in time and scooped me up, gently landing on the ground. The ladder had fallen on its side with the basket, the fruits spilling out of it. 

"Careful," he breathed in my ear, and let me stand. 

In Cassian's arms, I had felt excitement rush through me and made my heart race. Like I was standing on a cliff and about to jump.

Azriel's arms held me like they wanted my body to understand that I was safe, and my body responded by making me feel like I was in a tranquil bliss. 

I quickly gathered the fruits, not acknowledging his presence. Leaving the ladder on its side, I entered the villa and closed the door shut. 

That night, as I sank into the hot bath, I laid my head on my forearms and watched him through the window. It was almost a month now, since he started hovering around. I didn't understand it. Why did he run away like that when we discovered we were mates, and why did he come now? 

I wanted to let him in and hear the answers from him, but not yet. I wasn't yet healed from the helplessness and humiliation I felt during the last meal we had together. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Two days later, I was harvesting the remaining oranges from the first bloom. Winter rains were frequent around these parts, and I could see storm clouds gathering in the horizon. They predicted a thunderstorm later on. Azriel hadn't arrived yet, and I didn't want him to get caught in the storm. 

It began that night as I settled into bed. Azriel hadn't come at all, and it was good. The heavy rain lashed mercilessly against the windowpanes, and I fell asleep to the sound of it.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 9 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[I am overwhelmed with the amount of responses I've received for this fanfic. Thank you very much. This will be my last post of this year, as I have exams in my midst until January 7th, 2024. That's why I double posted today. A very happy new year y'all, and see you soon!]

[waltwhitmansbeard]

3, 8, or 10 with dorym please? Whichever sparks your creativity more!

8. letting them collapse against your chest the second they make it through the door after a hellish day i didn't know which ask meme you were referring to so i guessed lol. setting this in a hypothetical post-c3

Zephrah makes Dorian nervous. It's not the people—every person he's met here has been the nicest person he's ever met in his life, and they've all gone out of their way to make him feel at home. It's not the culture, either, which is much quieter and more peaceful than the Silken Squall, just the way Dorian likes it. It's not not the rift to the Elemental Plane, but he's pretty sure that the Ashari have that covered, so he's not too worried.

It's Orym. He's a hero of them realm, a Very Important Person, not just to the Voice of the Tempest, but to all of Exandria. So is Dorian, who is technically—not technically, Orym would say, you're a big damn hero—but here, it's all Orym, all the time. And Dorian is not complaining; it's about time the world gave Orym his flowers, and besides, despite being a performer, Dorian's never reveled in the attention of others.

But all eyes being on Orym means that Dorian's actions reflect on him, and he's terrified of fucking things up for him. Orym has a big position with the Tempest Blades now—Dorian's definitely been told what it is, and he definitely can't remember—and the last thing Dorian wants to do is embarrass him or make the other Blades wonder where he found this blue dork he brought hom.

So mostly he stays home, the little cottage Orym once shared with Will and now shares with Dorian. There are echoes of Will all over the home—his winter clothes in storage, his training sword leaning against the fireplace, his aftershave beneath the bathroom sink—and Dorian is still figuring out how to settle in without erasing his memory. He's learned a lot about Will through the things he left behind, and he's bummed that he's never going to get to meet him. He's pretty sure they would have gotten along.

Like now, when the door to the cottage swings open and a haggard, exhausted Orym limps in, his Sentinel Shield dragging behind him. Dorian leaps off the sofa, where he had been noodling on his lute, a love song he now feels more qualified to sing. "Orym! Is everything okay? You look..." Better to let that though trail off than sound like a dick.

Instead of answering, Orym crashes headfirst into Dorian, who drops to his knees to hug him properly. He can feel every tense muscle in Orym's back loosen as he sighs into Dorian's chest. Dorian cups the back of his head, the other hand splayed across his back to keep him close. "Oh boy, you've had a day, haven't you?"

Orym tips his head to the side just enough to murmur, "I've been through worse, but gods, it doesn't feel like it."

Dorian presses a kiss to the top of Orym's head. "I'm sorry." Then he says something so wholly out of character that he catches himself by surprise. "Need me to crack some skulls?"

Orym stiffens, and Dorian could kick himself. Crack some skulls? Dorian has never said such a thing in his life, and now he's freaked Orym out, because he's a moron who doesn't know what he's doing—

Orym snorts out a laugh, straightening up to smile wryly at Dorian. "Y'know, Will used to say the exact same thing to me, whenever I was cranky."

Oh. "I...didn't know that."

"It's nice to hear it again." Orym kisses his cheek. "I think I'll take a rain check on the skull-cracking. Want to join me for a bath?"

Dorian's face instantly goes hot at the suggestion and warmth in Orym's voice. "Um, yeah, of course. You go run the water, I'll grab us some wine."

"Sounds good." And Orym kisses him again, on the lips this time, tired but smiling. As he trudges off toward the bathroom, Dorian stands and walks shell-shocked to the kitchen. Pulling wine glasses down from their cabinet, he finds himself thinking of Will—or maybe to Will, as if he were praying. Thanks for showing me what to say.

"You comin'?" comes the call from the bathroom.

"On my way!" Dorian pops the cork on a bottle of red, breathes in the fragrant bouquet. I just want to take care of him. I think we both know how much he deserves it. He heads toward the sound of running water, and he swears for a moment he feels a strong, broad hand rest on his shoulder. Dorian smiles, and he thinks that maybe he'll be able to do right by Orym after all.

[whxre-bxby]

I wish people would write more soft romantic fics like you do, you write it really well!

Thank you bbygrl lemme give u a kiss <3 here's round two

"Hopelessly Devoted To You"

Masterlist

Summary: The RDA has a capacity issue and the recom's have been kicked out of their accommodations. When Quaritch says you're sharing a room with Lyle, it seems to bother him. You don't understand why so you confront him and eventually one thing leads to another and he's confessing his love to you.

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, little bit of angst, fingering, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, bad language, penetration, bonding (tsaheylu), arguing

Word Count: 6137

"Hopelessly Devoted To You" (From Grease) - Olivia Newton-John

The RDA was recently having a little space crisis. A new spaceship of workers arrived on Pandora this morning and they were struggling to find accommodation for them. 

They were behind in building plans of expanding Bridgehead City and were now facing the consequences. 

While the recom team was one of the most important muscles of this entire place, the RDA still prioritised their human workers and we found out the hard way. 

After a long day of training and exploring the jungle, we came back to find our bags packed and in the hallway outside our rooms. As you can imagine, Quaritch wasn't having it one bit and he let all his rage out by yelling at Ardmore. 

She got so pissed she threatened to have us all start sleeping outside because we need twice as much space and different air. 

That shut Quaritch up because he wasn't going to have his best team sleep outside on Pandora. 

Luckily Ardmore didn't let her conflict with the Colonel influence her decision of where we sleep too much. She let us take rooms which were located further away from the centre of Bridgehead and we were on our way there right now. 

The recom team walked through hallways, jet runways and large storage facilities to reach the specialised rooms. Quaritch was leading the way while we all followed. I walked with slumped shoulders, dragging my bag behind me. Z dog yawned and it made me drop my head and yawn too. 

I noticed how others would always take precautions when we passed. Sure we were 3 times their normal size but it was a little silly. Then again I enjoyed walking past them, knowing everyone except people like Ardmore are intimidated by us. Maybe she is too. 

Finally, the exhausted team arrived at the Na'vi-designed rooms, filled with Pandora's air. 

We stopped and the Colonel turned around and sighed, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. 

I leaned against a wall, dropping my bag by my feet and closing my eyes for a few seconds. 

"Alright squad, listen up." The Colonel spoke and I opened my eyes, trying to give him all the attention I had left. 

"I hate to do this to you, especially after such a rough day..." 

I hold my breath, eyes opening a little more just to make sure I'm hearing him properly. Oh god, bad news. Did some of us have to sleep outside? I would rather take the hallway. 

"But since we are dealin' with a space problem-" he sighs, taking a deep breath to break the news to us. 

"...some of you are sharin' rooms." 

My eyes widen, but I am a little relieved that we are not sleeping outside or that our rooms don't have a roof or a mattress. 

"Because my day has been as bad as yours I picked the names at random. Alright startin' with..." Quaritch spoke, naming soldier after soldier and whether they shared a room or whether they were alone and also which room they had. 

Everyone's name had been called up except Lyle and me. While others were already walking off and high-fiving, Lyle and I waited with perked ears. 

And yes we both noticed the way the Colonel avoided eye contact with us. It made me dread to hear the words he was about to say. 

He sighed, pinning his ears back and re-reading his list again. 

"Wainfleet. Y/N. You're sharin' a room." He said, glancing at us for a split second before grabbing his own bag. Of course, he had his own room

I just blankly stare at him for a few seconds. But it’s not such a big deal to me. I didn’t really mind.

Lyle however didn’t seem happy and I wasn’t sure whether I should make fun of his silly behaviour or whether I should be offended. 

Lyle was looking at the Colonel as if head lost his mind. 

“Sir- sir! You can’t be serious.” he said, calling after Quaritch who was retreating to his own room. 

“Very serious Corporal.” Quaritch said, getting his keys without even looking at Lyle. I’m just standing there and watching. I had the keys in my hand but I wanted to see what Lyle was doing. 

“But-” 

“We’re on a deadly planet here Wainfleet. If your biggest concern is sharin‘ a room with one of your most trusted soldiers, I’m gon’ start thinkin’ you ain’t suitable for this mission.” Quaritch warned, turning to Lyle and glaring at him. 

That did it, that shut him up. 

Quaritch stared him down for a few seconds before giving me an apologetic nod and going into his room, leaving Lyle standing outside in silence. 

I shrug it off, walking down the hall to find our room number. It’s not that far down and I reach it quickly, taking the small keys I was given and unlocking it. I can feel Lyle watching me but I don’t want to say anything to him. 

Was I so bad to share a room with? Does he secretly hate me that much?

I heard him pick up his own bag and follow me while I had unlocked the room, flicking the light switch on. 

It really wasn’t a nice room but I didn’t complain, walking inside. 

Lyle arrived at the door. 

“Wow, what a shithole.” he mumbled, looking around before closing the door behind him. I don’t answer. 

I enter what is meant to be the bedroom and freeze. This was going to be complicated. 

Lyle walked up behind me and was met with the same sight. 

“No fuckin’ way.” he groaned out in frustration while both of us looked at the double bed. 

“I could kill the Colonel right now.” he muttered, seeming very agitated. Lyle was starting to already get on my nerves. 

“I don’t think so.” I mumble, walking to one side of the bed and putting my bag next to it. 

He picked up my words and noticed the tone I used. 

“What’s up with you? You on your period or somethin’?” he asked and I rolled my eyes. No fucking way did he just ask me that. 

“No, you moron.” I answer a little louder this time while unzipping my bag. Lyle stays standing where he is. 

“What then?” he asked, completely oblivious to how he’s been complaining. 

“Is it such a big deal to share a room?” I ask, putting my hands on my waist while my ears are tipped back, clearly showing my annoyance. His own ears flatten when he realises I’m mad at him. 

“Am I that bad?” I ask, looking at him before returning to unpack my clothes. 

Lyle looks dumbstruck for whatever reason. 

“No, no of course not it’s not that.” he says, trying to save himself but I’m already pissed. 

“What is it then?” I snap back and he seems taken aback by my words.

“Oh right, you’re not mature enough to share a fucking room.” I add with a scoff and now he looks mad too. But he doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t talk to your superior like that.” he says after a minute and I almost laugh. 

“Yeah right, superior my ass you’re not suitable to be a Corporal if you can’t grow the fuck up.” 

I did feel like I was crossing the line with my words a little but I couldn’t seem to stop. My bag is thrown from the bed by me and I grab my toiletries and towel to go shower. I can’t even look at him he’s gotten me so mad. 

Lyle stares me down when I walk past him and into the shower, quickly closing and locking the door behind me. 

Not even five minutes in and I needed a break. 

….

I sigh, taking in a deep breath before putting my hand on the door handle of the bathroom. 

Lyle and I had an odd relationship and it seemed to always change. Sometimes we avoided each other. Other times it felt like we were the best of friends. Once, I thought I felt a connection with him and genuinely thought he might end up being my boyfriend. That’s how much has happened between us. We never did anything. The highest point of things we’ve done together was hugs and flirting. I fell asleep on him once too, but that was it. 

During the flirting phase, he once looked at me like I was all that mattered to him. A look you would see in movies with eyes twinkling and all that. I thought I was in love with him but the next day, he went back to barely acknowledging me and we started from the beginning of the cycle again. 

A week ago, we were at the close friends stage once again and I was happy around him. When Quaritch announced the rooms I thought Lyle and I would high-five each other too but seems like he had other plans. 

My heart is racing as I try to collect myself before stepping outside. I open the door and walk out in my so-called pyjamas. It was a pair of shorts and a loose old shirt which… actually used to belong to Lyle. 

He’s laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling but his head tilts over to me when I exit the steamy bathroom. 

“Took ya long enough.” he said and his tone was no longer annoyed. But damn did his sentence still annoy me. 

“Miss me that bad?” I ask, surprising myself with the words that slipped from my mouth. I wanted to actually throw an insult at him but this worked too I guess. 

He seems to be amused by what I said and rolls to his side to look at me, who has walked to my side of the bed again. 

“Maybe… Buttercup.” he replies and I can tell he was thinking about whether he should risk calling me that or not. 

I glare at him, flattening my ears back again before I return my attention to packing away the shit I took out before. 

“Oh come on, you used to like me callin’ you that.” he said and I took a deep breath to control myself and not snap at him. He was so confusing it frustrated me. Suddenly, he hates me and now it’s as if he’s forgotten how he was complaining before. 

“Yeah, back when you weren’t a dick.” I say. Oops, maybe the self-control faltered for a split second.

Lyle’s ears perked up. He was surprised by my mouth again. 

“When did I become one?” he asks with a small chuckle. Great, now he thinks it’s funny. 

“Maybe when you decided that I was such a bitch you can’t share a room with.” I say, turning my head over my shoulder but not looking at him. 

“Or when you don’t talk to me the day after we were finally having fun together again.” 

Lyle stays quiet while I just angrily refold my clothes. I hear the bed creek and Lyle get up and somehow I secretly hope he is walking to me to give me a hug. If he would I would probably break down. 

But no, I hear him gather his things and he leaves the room, closing the bathroom door behind him with a thud. 

“Sure, just walk away. Not like I matter to you.” I mumbled under my breath. I was feeling all sorts of emotions and to be completely honest, if I were completely alone right now I would just cry myself to sleep. 

Mainly because I was angry and when I get angry my eyes tear up. I was sad because he didn’t treat me like the friend I was to him but I was also sad because… I don’t think I want to just be his friend anymore. I was attracted to Lyle and I hated myself for it. 

Every time we got close and he pushed me away again, I swore to myself that that would be the last time it happens. But each time he comes back and is all friendly and kind again, I can’t help but accept him. 

I sit on the bed with my legs and arms crossed while in deep thought, listening to the running shower water coming from the bathroom.

The door opens minutes later and Lyle steps out. I snap out of my thoughts and glance at him. 

He’s just wearing the loose shorts that he sleeps in. His torso is bare and speckled in water droplets. 

I rip my gaze from him, not wanting him to see but Lyle smirked to himself because he noticed my lingering eyes. 

I stared down at my feet as Lyle sat on the bed next to me. 

He too was thinking and then his ears perked forward as he thought of an idea. Teasing you or doing things to get you to laugh were good ways of getting your attention and having you talk to him. 

He wasn’t good at starting conversations so he needed you to talk, even if it was scolding him. He was able to mostly turn the conversation in a positive direction but it had to start. 

He picked up his dirty sock and tossed it to you.

I saw the sock fly towards me and it landed on my legs. Immediately I sat up, grimacing a little. It wasn’t disgusting because the sock was only a day old and it didn’t look dirty but I wanted him to know I didn’t think it was funny. 

“Ew Lyle, why would you do that?” I complain, scrambling to my feet. 

“Do what?” he asked, trying to suppress a laugh. 

I snatch the sock from the bed, grabbing for my bag to get my own dirty clothes and throw the whole pile on him but I only now notice it's gone. 

“Wha- where’s my-” I start before my head shoots to Lyle who is avoiding eye contact. He didn’t expect such a reaction and he was a little scared of what you would do now. 

“Lyle I swear to god-” I start almost shouting while I stomp over to his side of the bed. I can see my bag hidden next to his nightstand and I want to go and grab it back. I throw the sock back on him but suddenly he is scrambling up to his feet and he’s in my way. 

“Wait Y/N-” he says and his hands reach for me but I dodge them as if they were sharp and take steps back. The last thing I needed was him holding or touching me. I would as I said break down. His arms found mine but I wriggled it out of his grasp with fast movements.

Quickly I start walking away and retreating back to my side but Lyle is quicker and when I reach the foot of the bed his arms encircle my body, preventing me from taking a step further. 

They tighten and wrap around my middle, pulling me against him. I freeze in my movements and all the muscles in my body tense. 

I can’t give in. It’s happened too many times. 

He’s holding me against him while I keep my eyes clenched closed. 

“Y/N I’m sorry…” he softly says, his breath fanning against the skin near my ear. 

I shakily exhale after hearing his words, turning my head away from him. He can see how much I’m fighting him. 

“I know I’ve been an idiot.” he says and I fight the urge to aggressively nod. Instead, my ears once again strain all the way back and my tail stops moving. 

“Please talk to me.” he almost whispered and I picked up a hint of sadness in his voice. 

His arms loosened around my waist and fell to his sides. I turned around and took a step back to create at least a little bit of distance between us. 

Lyle watches me, finally letting us lock eyes. His gaze softens when he notices how glossy mine have become. 

“Why do you do it?” I ask, internally cursing myself when my voice becomes shaky. 

He knows exactly what I mean because he looks away in shame. I’m helplessly staring at him, needing to hear some kind of answer. 

Lyle sighs before speaking. “I was trying to keep things professional…” he says and his voice is now gravelly. 

“Professional? By constantly pushing me away?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all. Then again I was glad he was such a forward and bold person. He wouldn’t usually dance around things, he says what’s on his mind.

His sad eyes meet mine and his look answers my question with a yes. 

“You heard the Colonel. You’re one of our best soldiers. I don’t wanna screw it up for either of us.” he says. I don’t know how to answer that. 

“You’re one of my… best soldiers.” Lyle adds. This cheesy asshole. Somehow it‘s working.

“How would our friendship ever screw it up?” I ask, thinking he’s talking about us being friends. 

He gazes deep into my eyes as if he were searching for something to tell him I didn’t mean what I just said. 

“It wouldn’t be the friendship doin’ that.” he faintly replies. There it is again. That look. He’s doing it right now, looking at me with big eyes as if I were everything in the world. It’s making my heart warm up and my knees weak. 

“Lyle, what are you talking about?” I ask, wondering whether he means what I’m thinking. 

He straightens his posture a little, looking up at the ceiling for a second to steady himself in reality before taking a deep breath and locking eyes with me again. He seems to zone out a little while staring at me.

“I’m so in love with you…” he whispers. His ears droop and his body slumps a little in defeat. As if he too has been trying to fight the feeling and deny it but now it’s won and he told you. 

I just stare back at him and my lips part in an attempt to say something but no words come out. His words shock me but I can tell by the way he is looking at me that he means them. 

“I’ve been trying to hide it but every time I do that I can see it hurts you,” he continues talking, confessing all his feelings to me and somehow I am grateful for that because I am currently speechless. 

“And I don’t want to be doin’ that anymore. I want this,” he says, pointing between him and me “to be more than just friends.”

“I’m sorry…” he adds when my silence becomes unbearable for him. “I just needed you to know.” 

His gaze flickers between me and the ground. Lyle is clearly nervous and his anxiety is eating him from the inside out right now while he awaits my response.

He’s expecting a clear rejection because he thinks you only want to be friendly with him.

“You moron.” I say in disbelief with a scoff. Lyle flinches a little at my words, now fully staring at the ground.

All the worrying and crying I’ve gone through, all because he was suppressing his feelings for me. 

“I thought you hated me.” I say and a look of confusion floods his sad face. 

He looks up at me with a glimpse of hope and when I reach for his dog tag and pull him down a little, his eyes widen and his ears perk up. 

I pull him to me, eliminating the space between us and pressing our lips together. 

For a few seconds, Lyle doesn’t move. It hasn’t fully loaded in his head yet that I’m kissing him. 

Once he replays what just happened, he deepens the kiss and his arms are once again around me, pressing me right up against him. 

We pull away and just stare at each other. A huge smile finally brightens Lyle’s face and he’s laughing. It makes me smile too. 

“No fucking way.” he says, looking at me in disbelief. “You’re into me?” he asks, suppressing another laugh. He needs one last confirmation before he can feel relieved from the stress. 

“I know, it’s bad.” I say with a grin, teasing him. 

“Come on, just say it properly so I know.” Lyle pleads. 

I take a deep breath. “Corporal Lyle Wainfleet, my attraction to you has been the cause of my lack of sleep this month and the month before. Maybe even the month before that.” 

I’m smiling like an idiot at him now too. “Yes, I love you dumb ass.” 

“Fuck princess, you don’t know how happy you make me.” he replies, his huge smile spreading across his entire face before he pulls me into him once again for a kiss. This time I wrap my hands around his neck and his arms start running all over my body. He’s gripping my waist, squeezing my hips and finally allowing one of his hands to test the waters and rest on my ass. 

I break the kiss by laughing and it makes him chuckle. 

“What?” he asks, wondering what’s so funny. 

“I really thought you didn’t like me and here you are so desperate for me.” I joke and he sheepishly grins. 

“I couldn’t get you outta my head since the day we woke up like this.” he said, referring to our resurrection on Pandora. 

I smile, looking down for a brief moment when I feel my cheeks start to heat up. 

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” I say with a breathy laugh, poking him in the chest. It seems to just spur him on. 

Lyle’s mission is now to get you as flustered as possible.

“I’ve dreamed about you too, no kidding.” he said and I shake my head, pretending like I don’t want to hear it. 

“They weren’t always workplace-appropriate dreams either.” he says, leaning down and smirking at me.

“Oh my god.” I say, clutching my reddened face in my palms.

“Don’t hide yet I’m not done.” he chuckles, gently pulling my hands from my face. 

“Sometimes, when I’m in the shower…” he starts talking and I know this is going in a very bad direction. “... or when I’m alone in my room at night…” Oh god, help me please. “I touch-” 

“Okay! Okay!” I say, my face completely flushed. 

“What’s wrong, you embarrassed?” he coos, teasing me. 

“Never.” I say, accepting the challenge. I was never bold with my words so I was going to unleash the dirtiest hell on him and shock him.

“Sometimes…” I say, grinning and tiptoeing my fingers up his bare chest. His grin slowly retreats and he watches me. 

“When I finger myself…” I say, sounding as seductive as possible. Boom, just like that all teasing and smiling was flushed away and gone from Lyle. He was completely shocked by my words and could not believe I was saying that. 

“I push them in as deep as possible… and I imagine it’s you doing it.” I whisper and watch as Lyle gets literal goosebumps. His mouth also happens to be hanging open a little. 

“And I think of how you would feel like inside me.” I say, slyly smiling up at the dumbstruck blue marine. 

He can’t believe it. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Lyle curses, adjusting his shorts and my smile turns into a grin. “Don’t stop.” he says and it sounds very desperate. 

“When I cum, I moan your name.” I add and he groans at my words, not taking his eyes off me for even a second. I can’t remember the last time I saw him blink. He isn’t blushing either because Lyle just rarely gets embarrassed but my words definitely affect him more. 

“But I’ve been so stressed lately, I haven’t been able to help myself anymore.” I say, faking a sad and helpless voice which seems to really do it for him. 

“Since I sometimes think of you… I think I need some help.” I say, tracing my fingertip down his chest muscle. 

“Only sometimes?” he asks in a joking manner, playfully raising an eyebrow. 

I grin, knowing just how to get under his skin. “Mhm. Sometimes it’s someone else.” 

His grin drops. “Take that back.” he says and I’m biting my lip to hold back laughter. 

“Make me.” I say, knowing that will trigger the right things in Lyle. 

It does.

“Oh I will.” he says, tugging me by my arm and pushing me back onto the bed. I fall back, bouncing down on the mattress before looking up at him. He’s towering over me and I scoot backwards, trying to create a distance between us again but this time he won’t let it happen. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good your legs will stop workin’.” Lyle says and I gasp when he tugs me back. 

My stomach twists in excitement and anticipation of what he has planned. 

He glides his hands up and along my legs, fumbling with the hem of my shirt and grinning. 

“You look good in my clothes.” he says and I smile. 

“I always wear this when I think of you.” I say, trying to make him hornier. 

“Oh you’re in for it now.” he says, with dilated pupils and a grin. 

“Can I?” he asks for permission to remove my clothes. 

“Yes, sir.” I say, making him smile. He pulls my shorts down my legs, leaving my bottom half bare in front of his predatory eyes. 

“Fuckin’ hell… you don’t know how much I’ve dreamed of this.” he says, not taking his eyes off my pussy. 

My cheeks heat and I try to close my legs to shield myself from his prying stare but he won’t let it happen. His hands push my legs open again and hold on beneath my thighs. 

Lyle is kneeling by the edge of the bed, leaning against the mattress as he pulls me closer to him. One of my legs rests on his shoulder and he gives it a kiss, before slowly kissing down my inner thigh. 

When he nears my crotch he inhales and the next time he opens his eyes, I can almost only see his dark pupils. 

He can’t wait or waste a second more. It looks so inviting to him and your scent has become irresistible. 

Lyle leans his head down and sticks his tongue out. He flattens it out and licks a long stripe from my hole to my clit. I gasp, balling my hands into fists. 

Such a small action had me already feeling this good. 

“Oh fuck-” I breathily whimper and Lyle wishes he could savour those noises forever. 

He needs to hear more and he can’t fight the urge to taste you anymore. 

Lyle buries his face into my cunt, tightening his grip around my thighs so that I can’t escape. 

I squeak in surprise while my mouth falls open. He starts fully eating me out, licking and sucking on everything he can access. 

I arch my back off the bed, already feeling high off of him. 

“Lyle-” I mewl and he growls against my heat. I know I won’t last long because I’ve been longing for his touch for a long time already. 

His tongue is flicking over my clit and he lets go of my thigh with one hand, slowly pushing a finger into me. I gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth so that I don’t accidentally scream. 

Luckily the walls here were thick for once.

He pushes it in, thrusting it in and out for a while before adding a second finger. 

God, it feels so much better when he does it. 

The feeling of penetration mixed with the stimulation of my clit has me whining and whimpering incoherent words.

I try to suppress my pleasure a little, just so that I can last longer and extend this euphoric feeling. That plan goes to shit once Lyle starts purring. His chest is rumbling and The vibrations go through his tongue which is pressed against my most sensitive area. 

“Fuck- Lyle I’m gonna-” I say, unable to stop the approaching orgasm. He doesn’t stop, in fact he deepens his actions making me clench my thighs around his head. 

My orgasm hits me like a brick and then I’m falling apart while Lyle is fingering the life out of me. 

My chest is heaving and I manage to open my eyes again, remembering where I am. Lyle pulled away, resting his arms on my trembling legs and giving me a shit-eating grin. He licked his lips while keeping his eyes firmly locked with me and I sighed. 

“Was that how you imagined it?” he asks, teasing me. I scoff. 

“Better. So much better.” 

He grins. “Good, we’re not done yet.” he says, climbing onto the bed and over me. He helps me scoot up so that my head is laying on the pillow while hovering above me. 

“God you look so good.” I mumble, feeling up his bare chest. My common sense was gone. I was still recovering from my intense orgasm so I could only confess every thought that came to mind while looking at Lyle with half-lidded eyes. 

“Look at you, buttercup. Fuckin’ goddess. I don’t even know how I managed to pull you.” he says with a smile, slowly inching my shirt up. I know he took my compliment to heart though. He would prefer me saying he looked hot or that his body was toned rather than being told his eyes are beautiful. He wasn’t the poetic romantic type. 

I lift myself off the bed a little and he pulls my and his shirt over my head, throwing it down next to the bed. 

When his eyes meet my bare chest he becomes weak. 

“I’m fallin’ asleep on those.” he said as if he were reserving my breasts, unable to tear his eyes from them.

I chuckle. “I didn’t know you were a ‘titty’ man.” 

He grins, kissing my cheek. “I’m a ‘you’ man.”

I giggle before he starts peppering kisses from my collarbone and onto my chest. He sticks his tongue out and flicks it over a nipple. 

I wouldn’t have expected it to feel good but it oddly did and it made me arch my back off the mattress and into him. Lyle’s other hand came up and groped my other breast before massaging it. 

My heavy breaths have Lyle struggling to control himself. 

The straining of his shorts is becoming painful, so he rids himself of the remaining clothes he has on. 

“Holy fuck.” I say, shamelessly just staring at his erection. I knew it would be bigger but this was massive. Compared to me as well. I would probably struggle to take him. 

He grins and moves back over me. This time, his braid falls over his shoulder and onto my chest with a small thud. 

It reminds me of something and the same idea seems to be in his head. 

We exchange looks and he smiles. “Do you wanna try it?” he asks. 

I reach for my own one, examining it for a few seconds.

“Sure, I just don’t quite know how it works…” I say. 

“Me neither.” he chuckles. We mess around with them a little until I open the end of my braid and watch the small nerves move around. Lyle watches mine before mirroring what I did. Once he revealed his own cord we just followed our natural instincts and held them together. Before they even touched, the little tentacles were reaching for eachother. Now they are entangled and become one. 

I saw white light for a good few long seconds and my senses seemed to strengthen and expand. I managed to feel a part of Lyle and I could tell he felt the same with me. 

Without further ado, we followed what nature told us to do. We couldn’t wait any longer. Both of us have needed this for so long, the release was so close, we couldn’t lose another second. 

Lyle parted my legs again, pressing his hips in between them. I held onto his shoulder with one hand while resting one leg on his lower back.

He lined himself up with me, pressing the tip of his leaking cock against my dripping heat. I clenched my jaw in anticipation and then Lyle finally pushed his hips forward, fully entering me. I was so lubricated that he slid in with ease, stopping once he bottomed out just to relish in the feeling. 

I drop my head back, finally feeling like my needs were being fulfilled. 

“God damn, buttercup you’re so tight ‘round me.” he groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds. 

“Please move.” I whine, desperately needing to feel more of him.

I don’t need to tell Lyle twice. He’s pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in with long and precise strides. Each time he jolts forward a new wave of pleasure shoots through me. He leans down, wanting to be close to me. 

Our lips crash together and we heavily make out while Lyle continues to fuck himself into me. After a few minutes, we are breathing so heavily that we have to break the kiss. We just rest our foreheads against each other, our hot breath fanning against the other's face. 

“So good.” I whimper, closing my eyes while Lyle rubs his cheek against mine. 

He’s speeded up a little, starting to rut his hips against mine, trying to force himself further into me with each thrust. 

Lyle hits a spot inside me that makes my body jolt in ecstasy and since we are bonded, he feels it too. Quickly, he rearranges his hips and starts to relentlessly pound into me while groaning and hissing. 

This feels so much better than I could have ever imagined. 

Lyle’s thrusts are becoming a little sloppy but I don’t blame him because I’m close to another orgasm again. 

“Lyle, too much… I can’t-” I whimper, still sensitive from the previous one. 

“Come on baby, one more f’ere me.” he grunts, encouraging me. I can’t answer because my mouth is falling open. 

He feels how I’m slowly starting to clench even more around him. “That’s it Buttercup, let go.” he whispers, kissing my neck. I nod, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him in. 

Lyle growls, speeding up a little more just before he pushes me over the edge and I swear I can see stars. My pussy’s walls clench down around him and Lyle only manages to thrust into me a few more times before spilling his load deep into me. 

He moans, clenching his eyes closed and biting down on my shoulder. His fangs sink just beneath my skin but I’m so overwhelmed by my orgasm it doesn’t even hurt. 

After a few moments, my legs loosen and fall off of him. Lyle stops desperately grinding into me and he drops his head into the crook of my neck. I wrap my arm around him and he gently lays himself down on me. 

Our heavy breaths mix and after a few minutes he scoots down a little lower so that his head is in fact lying on my breasts. Lyle gently pulls out of me in the process and I chuckle at his behaviour while he shoots me a cheeky smile. 

“You’re mine now.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me. I smile, tracing the stripes on his head. Our braids disconnected but I felt more connected to Lyle than I ever have before. 

“No one else gets to have you.” He said, tracing his hands down my hips before returning to just holding me again.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” I smile and he chuckles. 

“Say it again. How you feel about me.” he says, looking up. I’m not quite sure what he means. 

“I need to hear it once more before I fall asleep.” he says. Oh, of course. 

“I love you, Lyle.” I whispered, cradling his cheek. He looks relieved as if he were still somehow worried I would have changed my mind. 

“I love you more. And I’ll take care of you.” he said with a grin. I smile in return before my eyelids become heavy. 

The Na’vi body seemed to be able to fall asleep much easier. 

Lyle did in fact sleep on my chest for most of the night. However, he made sure and waited that I fell asleep first before he closed his eyes. 

He felt protective of me now and even though there was no current danger, he was passionate about caring for me.

I wonder how things will be between us after this. We still work together, meaning we might have to keep this relationship secret.

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

[moodymisty]

Hi ! I hope you're having a great day/night and I was wondering if I could place a request of maybe Crosshair wanting to have kids with reader (female reader if possible)/having a slight baby fever after seeing her interact with Omega a lot ? Have a good day/night ! ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 2

Author's Note: This took a bit of finagling to try and get a scenario that would work timeline wise, I will admit. But then I just said 'fuck it' AU time. So 'Crosshair doesn't leave the batch' AU it is. l I kept this one SFW just cause that's how I read the request, but if you want the spice, you're always welcome to throw in another request sometime ;3

This one got a little fru fruy and poetic, so if you just want the sauce, I can cook some up

Summary: Crosshair sees how good you are with Omega, and thinks of a future that's rare, but not impossible.

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: SFW, Mentions of having kids, tokophobia warning (trying take sure this gets hit by peoples blacklist if they don't like this sort of thing I know it's not everyone's cup of tea), Crosshair longing and thinking of his future with you, Treating Omega as a like pseudo-adopted kid give this kid parental figures lol

Hyperspace might be the perfect time to get things done- but to Crosshair, it's dreadfully boring.

The ship sails through the stars with a monotonous hum, putting anyone of a less overactive mind to sleep a long time ago. Wrecker is snoring away, a forearm over his eyes. Hunter isn't asleep, but he's relaxing, as is Tech. Which means more so that he's tinkering on a personal project, instead of needed repairs. Echo is resting his eyes- Crosshair can tell by the rhythm of his chest he isn't asleep.

You're nowhere to be seen however, though it's obvious where you are, as he looks to his right towards the cockpit.

He can see the top of your head in the co-pilot's seat, as your head is clearly leaned onto your left shoulder. You must've fallen asleep, as you don't move at all in the few seconds he looks. Getting up off the storage crate he was relaxing on, crosshair makes his way closer until he steps between the seats, and looks down on you.

And Omega, as he quickly notices.

She's sitting sideways in your lap, and you have her loosely supported with one arm over her knees and the other behind her back. Her cheek is smushed against your arm, and the both of you are completely asleep.

It's... Endearing. Crosshair hasn't really seen you this relaxed in, well, he can't exactly remember. Life hasn't been easy, since everything. The two of you have seemed to go with the flow perfectly so far, even after everything that's been thrown at everyone so far. Especially you; As while they were all used to the chaos, you weren't.

He slowly lowers himself into the pilot's seat, trying not to make a sound. But just as he finally settles, he notices your head shift. Not long after, you open your eyes. They almost instantly settle on him, looking over his body as he sits ankle over thigh in the seat. You swallow your mouth dry, blurry sight focusing.

"How long was I asleep?" He glances to you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Don't worry about it." He hears you softly exhale. "I wasn't asking because I wanted to get up."

Omega remains asleep even through your quiet talking, establishing that she's clearly a heavier sleeper than you. But even if Crosshair still doesn't speak up again for awhile, watching the stars streak by the viewport. When he glances back over to the two of you, he notices the way you're brushing a piece of Omega's hair out of her face.

The two of you have been stuck like glue since first meeting, and even someone far denser than Crosshair wouldn't have much trouble seeing it. He can't really put a word to how the sight makes him feel. It's not bad, not in the slightest. It makes his chest hurt in a similar way it did when he would watch the cities bustle with life while they were locked away for later use in clone bases.

Longing?

"You're good with her." He mumbles, jerking his head your way. You shrug your shoulders.

"Hard not to be. She's a good kid."

He doesn't exactly have much of a gauge of what makes a 'good kid'. All he's even spoken to was clone cadets, neck deep in training.

But you look so, natural with her. Omega seems to be so comfortable with you, and maybe in a way, she sees you as a parent. She seems to think that way about Hunter, Echo too; He kind of wonders how she views him.

She almost always views the two of you as a unit, as even in a small ship you and Crosshair are rarely apart. Does she view him the same as you?

He never even thought he'd get the chance to even think about those sorts of things, until he met you. But even then, he never wanted them. Kriff, if it hadn't messed with the early clone tests brains so much, the Kaminoans would've made sure they'd never have the chance. But would he even be able? He went from test tube to battlefield, how can that raise a kid?

But for all of his rough and gruff, he wouldn't mind giving it a shot with you. You'd help him in the spots that need work. He'd help with yours, even if he doesn't think there is any. If Omega is any indicator, you'd be the perfect parent.

How'd he get so stupidly lucky? This all feels like a dream sometimes. He feels like having a child with you would be like rolling the dice yet again and risking losing every good thing he's manage to win. But gods, does he want it.

"Crosshair?" He looks up, and sees you staring at him. Your eyebrows are raised, almost suspicious.

"You good? You look lost." He doesn't respond, instead looking away from a moment. He's trying to think of a way to word his thoughts, but Omega stirs before he has the chance. He probably wouldn't be able to word them in any way that made sense, anyhow.

"Hmm?" She rubs her one eye, looking up at you before turning awkwardly to see Crosshair. He wasn't there when she'd fallen asleep.

"How long was I asleep?" You respond as Crosshair moves to stand. "Not that long. I just woke up too."

Standing right beside your seat he lays an arm on the headrest, leaning downward. He can see all the little imperfections on your face, as you look at up at him and habitually smile. He'll never get over how it seems like the sight of him makes you happier. He feels the same, even if he doesn't show it in the same way.

"Should get out of that seat before you ruin your back." It's true; The way you've been tucked in is horribly uncomfortable, but you aren't going to abandon it right at this moment.

After talking Crosshair leans down just a bit farther, enough to steal a kiss. His lips are nice and warm against yours; Soft, gentle pressure as his nose brushes against your cheek. Afterwards he plops a hand on Omega's head, ruffling her hair before running it down her face and squishing it as she lets out an irritated noise, slapping it away.

He hears the two of you quietly snicker as he walks out of the cockpit, moving to sit on his bunk and take off his boots. The two of you are mumbling about something, and he hears his name mentioned once or twice. He can't help but take another glance and see what the two of you are up to, and while he won't join, he'll enjoy the sound.

Maybe once this is all over, Crosshair can finally enjoy the pitter patter of small feet he always heard the holo-dramas talk about himself.

Join the taglist here: @seriowanwan @starborncyare @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-somethingg @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriterr @lucyysthingsgs @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @Rennyboo9

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 21)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: plans become finalized, and you finally get a moment alone with Nesta and Eris.

warnings: graphic violence, misogyny, ANGST ANGST ANGST

word count: 7.5k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i genuinely hate how i wrote this chapter it disgusts me so i apologize for how terrible it is but let me know your thoughts as always!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20

read on ao3

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The venison was tasteless in your mouth as you pushed your food around the golden plate. Beside you, Malgorm was already on his second helping, the juice from the meat dripping down his chin, and you tried not to cringe.

After Rhysand had left, Beron had ordered you, Malgorm, Nesta, and Eris to join him and the Lady of Autumn for lunch. Even though your stomach churned at the idea of consuming food after the anxiety of Rhys’s visit, you had simply smiled and said it would be an honour. Beron had offered you his arm, ordering you to walk with him to the dining hall. Keeping up the facade, you had once again gone along with it with a smile.

Beron’s moods gave you whiplash. When you had last seen the High Lord, he was ready to toss your body back over the Autumn Court border. He had not cared if you had lived or died, but something had changed. The way he defended you against Rhysand, treating you like his own daughter that he genuinely loved, unsettled you. It was an act so convincing that part of you wanted to believe it was real. But you weren’t stupid, you knew better. Beneath the surface, there was something evil and cunning behind his actions.

There was always an ulterior motive with Beron, that much you had been told by Eris. But if Beron had married you to Malgorm with the hopes that his second youngest son would eliminate you from his list of problems, then why bother being so nice to you? 

For a split second, your eyes had met Eris’s as you took his father’s arm. Panic flickered across his amber gaze before slipping away. That look haunted you as you walked – why was Eris so afraid? Even you knew that Beron wasn’t about to strike you down at that moment.

A thousand questions and thoughts swarmed your head as you ate. With a hearty sip of wine, you forced yourself to pay attention to the conversation at the table.

“The Lords from the remaining cities will be here in three days' time for the wedding,” Eris was saying to Beron. “Extra servants have been brought to the guest house to ensure all their needs are met.”

Beron spoke between bites, not bothering to look at his son. “And the wine storages are fully stocked?”

“Of course. I had extra barrels brought in just in case.”

The High Lord simply made a noise of what you assumed to be satisfaction. He turned towards you, those cunning eyes meeting yours. You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. “Are you looking forward to your wedding, girl?” He asked. The question was pointed – phrased politely enough to not raise questions but there was a challenge underlying his voice. Beron was not an idiot, it was clear he had figured out you knew exactly what kind of male Malgorm was. Every wince in your movement had been noticed by the High Lord, it seemed. As he now dared you to protest the engagement.

The true Beron Vanserra seeping through the strained mask of a loving father.

But you did not give in. “Of course, my Lord,” You dipped your head politely. “It is an honour I could have only dreamed of. I look forward to being wed to your son.”

The High Lord pressed further, as if to urge a stronger reaction out of you. “Is it the wedding you always dreamed of having?”

“Not particularly. But only because I never thought I would be lucky enough to be engaged into someone of such royal status. Nor did I expect it to be a Lord of the Autumn Court. But this wedding is better than anything I could have ever hoped for as a child, and I thank you, High Lord.” A blend of truth and lies, the sweet spot to dealing with Beron Vanserra, as Eris had once told you. You could never outright lie to the male, for he had a talent of seeing right through it. Beron narrowed his eyes for a second, but thankfully did not press you further. Instead, he turned back to Eris. “Once Malgorm’s wedding is over, we will keep the staff for the next month to prepare for your wedding to Nesta. No use spending more gold sending them home only to have to bring them back two weeks later.”

Eris nodded. “An excellent idea, my Lord.”

As the eldest Vanserra discussed more details of the weddings with his father, you snuck a glance at Nesta. She sat across from you, eyes darting between her unfinished plate of food and the conversation between Eris and Beron. She sat stiffer than normal, as if being in close proximity to Eris was too much for her. Thankfully, no scent of the mating bond hung in the air between them, or between you and her, hiding this larger than life secret from Beron. 

More than anything, you wanted to go over to her. To sit next to Nesta and hold her hand, leaning into the comfort of her presence. It chipped away at your heart having to act so distant from the female, your mate. It was a hard act to keep up, and you didn’t know how Eris had survived for so long pretending to be so detached.

For the first time in days, you reached down through the bond towards Nesta. You did so as subtly as possible, as to not elicit any sort of reaction from her that might draw attention. On her end of the bond, it was as if a wall of storm clouds were surrounding her. You could feel her turmoil, a whirlwind of emotions so strong it nearly sent you back down to your end of the bond.

But you stayed, gently pressing into the thick wall on her end, urging her to let you in. At first, they did not give, shutting you out and preventing you from feeling her through the bond. Please, you begged her silently. And then you felt the clouds soften, allowing you to push through into the centre, towards the end of the bond. Instantly, you began to feel better, your nerves soothing as the bond warmed and brought you comfort.

But then you felt Nesta’s emotions through the bond. It took everything in you not to flinch as you stood in the eye of her hurricane. It was too loud, as if a thousand different voices were screaming at her at once. Guilt, anger, confusion, all crashing into her like the tidal waves of a raging sea. Yet none of it showed on her face, as if her emotions were not even there. You caressed her end of the bond, feeling the storm slow ever so slightly. It will be ok, you reassured her.

You saw Nesta’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and it took all your self control to go back to your end of the bond. You wanted to keep your mind huddled in there, soothing her and turning those grey clouds into distant memories. But you couldn’t, not with Beron there.

The sound of footsteps dragged your attention away from Nesta. A male in courtier attire appeared, bowing low and apologising for the interruption before insisting the Vanserra’s accompany him to attend to an urgent matter. Beron seethed, angry at being disturbed at meal time, but Eris spoke quickly. “Of course, we will see to it right away.”

Malgorm, Lirilla, Beorn, and Eris all stood up and began to follow the male, speaking in hushed voices leaving you and Nesta alone at the table. As the doors closed behind them, you peaked around at the ten guards in the room. No doubt they reported you and Nesta’s every move to Beron, making you unable to speak freely. Gods, it had been so long since you had a moment alone with Nesta. You had barely seen her in the last week with the wedding planning. 

After a few minutes of silence, Nesta finally spoke. “So, are you being kept busy with wedding preparations?” Her voice sounded forced and awkward, confusing you until you heard her speak a second time, but into your mind through the bond. The guards are listening. Keep talking about the wedding.

You cleared your throat, straightening your spine. “Yes, very much so. The different cake varieties I sampled were incredible. Would you like to hear about them? You’ll likely be presented with the same options in a few weeks.” Are you ok?

“Do tell.” Are you? Azriel told us about what Malgorm did to you. 

You barely heard yourself rambling on about various aspects of the wedding as you continued your mind speaking conversation with Nesta. Yes. No. I’m not sure. Things with him are already bad, and I’ve been told it’ll get worse once the wedding happens.

Like we said, we won’t let that happen.

Are you sure? Nesta blinked at your words. Because as much as everyone’s telling me I’m not allowed to know anything about your plan to stop the wedding and kill Beron, it really just seems like you have nothing. 

She did not respond. A chilly gust of wind seeped in through the cracked windows, unyielding against the blazing fires meant to keep the room warm. The candles flickered, and neither of you moved as you stared at each other. Well? You asked her. Am I wrong?

It’s not that. Nesta said, her blue-grey eyes going down to gaze upon the intricate designs of the table cloth. Eris, Azriel and I are at a disagreement about how to handle the situation. Eris and Azriel believe… Her voice in your head faded off like a song carried by the wind. 

You gulped, swallowing the lump in your throat. Well?

Nesta’s solemn gaze met yours. Eris and Azriel believe the best way to end the engagement is to kill Malgorm. And to frame you for it.

Your stomach dropped. You knew Eris was cutthroat and bold with his schemes, but this? This felt like a setup. Your trust with Eris had waxed and waned in the years you had known him, and since your arrival in Autumn he had done nothing to make you believe that he would betray you.

But if he was mated to Nesta as well, perhaps he did not want to share his mate. A mating bond affected males deeply, that much you knew. You willed your panicked breaths to cease as Nesta continued mind speaking. Eris would be the one to find you over Malgorm’s body and take you to the dungeons. That would lure Beron down for an interrogation, where I would be waiting with Eris to kill him. Eris claims that the shock of a bride killing her suitor before the wedding would be something Beron would want to keep under wraps, so he would be more likely to come to deal with the situation alone without letting the word get out that you were supposedly the one to kill Malgorm.

 So you’d use me as bait? Your throat was dry, stomach resisting the urge to hurl up lunch’s contents.

Silver fire flickered beneath Nesta’s eyes. Absolutely not. That is where we disagree. I am not willing to let you be put in this position. Too many things can go wrong.

I’ll do it.

Nesta’s slender hand curled tighter around her goblet of wine. No you will not. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about this plan, (Y/N). Because this is exactly what Eris said you’d do.

So you’d rather me not have a choice, just like you didn’t have a choice either when you were shipped off to the House of Wind?

Your mate flinched as if she had been struck. Part of you regretted your words, but the other part didn’t. Nesta was being blinded by fear for your safety, as any good mate would. You knew it was unfair to compare the two very different situations, but that didn’t change how you felt. Nesta, I’ve had all of my choices ripped away from me these last few weeks. You know damn well how that feels. Please. As my mate, let me do this. Let me have this be my choice.

Her face softened slightly, contemplating your words. She sighed, pretending to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve as her voice sounded in your head again. Funny. Eris knew you’d say that too, if you found out. Something tells me the slippery bastard was banking on me telling you so he didn’t have to. I don’t think he wants to piss you off.

You chuckled into your wine as you took a sip. So, how do you plan on killing my beloved fiancée? Beheading? Death by glorious silver fire? Being fed to the dogs?

Believe me. After what Malgorm did to you, Eris wants nothing more than to make a public spectacle of his suffering. But we will have to be quick and discreet, lest we draw attention to ourselves. And it has to look like you did it, not us. 

How will that work?

We’re still figuring out the details. 

You folded your hands in your lap, taking a deep breath as you decided to finally address the elephant in the room. So… you and Eris?

Nesta stiffened visibly, her voice quieter in your head as if she was pulling back. I don’t want to talk about it.

Nes, please. We don’t have to talk about it right now but… but I need to hear it from you, not Azriel. Please, just tell me… is it true that a bond snapped between you and Eris?

A moment of silence before her answer. Yes.

Ok.

Ok? That’s it?

Well what do you expect me to say?

I don’t know. It feels strange, having more than one bond. It’s as if I am being unfaithful to you. Aren’t you supposed to be mad? 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, stabbing a piece of broccoli on your plate harder than necessary. Azriel asked me the same damn thing. And I’ll tell you what I told him: no, I am not mad. No, I am not jealous or hurt. Hell, I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I see no reason why potentially being loved by more than one person is a bad thing when it hurts nobody. 

But things have… happened between us. A faint blush crossed Nesta’s cheeks. Things I don’t just want to forget and let go of.

You remembered her words to you, those six words that made up the phrase you replayed in your head over and over again every day after Nesta was brought back from her hike with Cassian. It’s you. It’s always been you.

She had never explicitly said it, but Nesta loved you. And you loved her. No amount of mating bonds would change that.

And you don’t have to. Your hands tingled with the urge to reach across the table and entangle your fingers in her own. I certainly won’t. We can figure out what all of this means for us once things settle down, ok?

A hint of a smirk crossed Nesta’s lips. Remember that day after the Prison where you helped me bathe?

You were naked in front of me and I was too nervous to look because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. Of course I remember.

There was a haunted glaze over her eyes that replaced the playful one. You’re so different from Cassian. He… he always wanted to fuck me in those moments where I was vulnerable. And I wanted it too, but… 

You finished her sentence for her. But he should have known better.

You felt something warm around your ankle. It was gentle, and you knew if you looked under the table and beneath your skirt you would have seen a silver flame there. It was electrifying, but not burning – a soft caress of reassurance.  

The sound of the doors opening snapped you out of your trance. A pissed-off looking Beron entered the room, his sons behind him with their heads low. Lirilla was nowhere to be seen.

You and Nesta quickly stood up, curtseying at the Vanserra’s. The atmosphere in the room tensed with their arrival, Beron’s anger casting a dark cloud over everything like the comings of a thunderous storm. His face was twisted with mal contempt as he resumed his seat at the head of the table, delving back into his food without giving the nod for the rest of the lunch party to sit down as well. The sound of the High Lord’s noisy eating echoed throughout the room. You clasped your hands together, impatiently wanting to sit back down.

After what seemed like forever, Beron finally nodded, urging the rest of you to finally take your seats. Malgorm reached behind you to pull out your chair, his hand conveniently brushing your backside along the way. It took every ounce of self control you had to not glare at him. He snickered as you stiffened at his actions.

“Father,” Eris spoke up smoothly. “Lady (Y/N) and Lady Nesta have finished their meals, and I believe you and my dear brother still have wedding matters to discuss. If it pleases you, I can escort both of them back to their chambers.”

Malgorm’s thin upper lip curled, eyes flashing with anger identical to Beron’s as he challenged his brother. “I can escort my own fiancée.”

Eris scoffed. “I saw you groping her ass just now. I do not think I can trust you to bring her back to her room without soiling her before the wedding.”

You cringed at his language, speaking of you as if you were a shiny new object. Females here were treated just as badly as in the Court of Nightmares. It would be hard for Eris to convince them to change their ways, and you doubted he would be able to do so without bloodshed. You wanted more than anything to make Autumn Court safe enough for Gwyn and Emerie to be brought here, along with any female who sought a better life. 

“You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do with my wife, brother.” Malgorm snarled viciously, causing you to flinch.

“Silence!” Beron seethed. Malgorm’s eyes still burned with anger, but he clenched his jaw shut at his father’s orders. “Eris may not be able to tell you what to do, but I can. Eris is right – if you cannot be trusted to keep your cock in your pants, then you are not to be alone with your bride until after the wedding. She is to remain pure and untouched until you are married, am I clear, Malgorm?”

Malgorm sighed. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Then consider the matter closed.” Beron motioned for another glass of wine to be poured. “Eris, escort the females back to their respective chambers. Now.”

Eris nodded hastily, offering Nesta his arm as they both stood up. When they reached your side of the table, you took Eris’s other arm. His expression was unreadable as he led you away from the table, heavy doors closing behind you. 

 *********************

The three of you walked back to your bedroom in silence. Guards and servants hastily parted ways as you strode through the winding hallways. Eris held his head high, the perfect portrait of an arrogant eldest son. You wondered how many of the servants reported to Eris or Lirilla rather than Beron.

Autumn truly was a court of spiderwebs, each one carefully woven by each player of their own game. Unless you knew for sure who was loyal to who, nobody could be trusted. 

You relaxed when you saw Saeros and Ivar posted outside your door. They nodded to Eris ever so slightly, a reassuring sign that they wouldn’t repeat whatever they overheard. Beron’s eldest son ushered you and Nesta into your room, and only when the door closed and locked behind you did you let out a breath.

“We may speak freely here.” Eris said, igniting a small flame on his fingertip. He flicked his hand, casting it into the fireplace. A soft orange flow filled the room, chasing away some of the damp chill.

You kicked off your shoes and sat down in the middle of your bed, sighing against the soft pillows. You rubbed your temples, feeling the mattress sink beside you as Nesta joined you. Her comforting scent calmed you, and you finally reached down and entwined your fingers in hers. Warmth swelled in your chest through the bond, relief of finally having physical contact with your mate. Nesta’s gaze softened, her blue-grey eyes finally free of their cold mask. She squeezed your hand comfortingly, her free hand coming up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.

“So, (Y/N),” Eris drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the tall bedpost. “Shall I challenge you to a blood duel for the hand of our mate?”

You felt Nesta stiffen beside you, and you shot a death glare at the Prince. “That’s not fucking funny, Eris.” You snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on (Y/N). It is a little funny, you have to admit. The female we both wanted to save from being swallowed by Rhysand’s dreadful court just happens to be both our mate? I find great irony in that, don’t you?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an insensitive asshole?” You shot back. Beside you, Nesta’s lips twitched ever so slightly as if she were fighting off a chuckle.

“Oh, plenty. But it sounds so much better when you say it.” Eris purred. “Besides, I’m a very sensitive male. I got you guys your alone time at the table earlier, didn’t I?”

Nesta spoke up, confusion lacing her voice. “You planned that?”

Eris sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. “Your surprise wounds me, my love. Of course I planned it. With a bit of help from a certain shadowsinger in creating a distraction to pull my father away from his favourite meal.”

“You certainly have a lot of tricks up your sleeve.” You muttered, the heat from the fire finally beginning to warm you up. Nesta leaned closer into you, her arm grazing yours as she settled into the cushions.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Always. Now, the elephant in the room is that (Y/N) and I are both mated to Nesta. However, that does not matter until we can end your engagement to Malgorm. But for the sake of efficiency, shall we put all discussions of mating bonds on pause for now while we figure out what to do about my brother?”

“Please.” You spoke at the same time Nesta said, “I would love nothing more.”

“Perfect. Now, I trust Nesta told you about how much she disagrees with mine and Azriel’s plan?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, I did. And naturally, she was on board.”

Eris clasped his hands together smugly. “Good girl,” He said as he smirked at you. “I was right. Admit it, Nesta.”

“I’d rather stick pins in my eyes, thanks.” Nesta said dryly. You snorted at the deadpan tone of her voice.

“But they’re such pretty eyes.” Eris protested before continuing in a more serious manner. “Anywho, as I predicted, you are willing to play a role in this, correct, (Y/N)?”

You shifted against the pillows, nervous at the idea of the plan. But you forced your voice to be even as you said, “If you mean am I willing to be Malgorm’s bait, yes.”

“Make no mistake, I do not like it either. But as I am sure Nesta explained to you, framing you for his death would force my father to come deal with the matter personally. By having you chained up in the dungeons as evidence, it is more believable. Then, Nesta and I can kill him.”

“Why do your plans always involve me in chains?” You sighed.

Eris’s voice was like pure silk as he replied, “Maybe I just like the way you look tied up.”

“Eris.” Nesta growled, her voice low with warning. You couldn’t tell which your heart was fluttering from more – Nesta’s veiled protectiveness, or Eris’s flirtatious remark.

The Prince continued as if he had not heard her. “But yes, chains are a little extreme even for my taste. I will not lie to you, there are huge risks involved with this plan. And I promised Nesta I would be transparent with you. In order for it to be believable, you have to be there when Malgorm dies. And if you were without injury, my father would see right through it.”

Your mouth dried up at his words. As if sensing that, Nesta clamped her hand even tighter around yours. Her lips were drawn in a thin disapproving line, and you could feel her distaste for the plan through the bond. Even though it was written all over her face.

“So you’re going to let Malgorm beat me up a bit first?” You asked, swallowing the dread that was building up in your throat.

The look on Eris’s face was one of remorse, an expression you had not seen him wear before. “That’s the only way it’ll work, my dear.” He said softly. “My father needs to be able to smell Malgorm’s touch on you. Feigning injuries will not work in this case. The evidence of a struggle needs to be real.”

“Stop.” Nesta hissed at Eris. “We can’t do this. I will not stand by and let my mate get hurt by that male.”

“Nesta,” You said quietly, and her head turned back towards you. “He already has hurt me. After everything I’ve… after all that’s happened I can take it. I promise.”

“Besides, we will be right there in the shadows. We will not let anything terrible happen to you. You have my word.” Eris added in an attempt to ease Nesta’s worries.  

“Please.” Nesta’s voice was breaking barely above a whisper as she spoke to you, desperation in her grey eyes. “You have already sacrificed enough for all of this. I will support your decision but… please, don’t do this. We can find another way.”

You smiled sadly, cupping her cheek with your free hand and letting her lean into your touch. “We both know this is the only option. It’s okay, I can do this. Let me do this so we can finally be free of Beron and Malgorm.”

Nesta closed her eyes and sighed, but nodded. Gingerly, she grabbed your hand that was cupping her cheek and pulled it away. She pressed a soft kiss to the palm of it before entwining her fingers in your own. “Okay.” She said softly. “I trust you.”

Eris coughed, forcing you to break your gaze away from Nesta and focus back on him. “Now that that’s settled, we need to discuss the logistics of the plan.” He said. “(Y/N), Malgorm will undoubtedly choose to come see you here in this room. That’s where everything will take place.”

You frowned. “I thought your father banned him from being alone with me. Don’t your brothers obey your father’s orders?”

He shook his head. “Not Malgorm. His obsession with the chase of a forbidden female will tramp any desire to listen to Beron’s orders. The High Lord did us a favour and planted the seeds for him coming to seek you out somewhere that is not public, which gives us more privacy to kill him. I have no doubt he will come to your room tonight to spite my father.”

“Tonight?” Nesta said, tensing up beside you. “That soon?”

“I strongly believe so, yes. Malgorm will seek (Y/N) out tonight after most of the castle is asleep. She is to try and ward off his advances which will provoke him to anger. Then–”

You interrupted Eris. “Then I let him use me as a punching bag for a bit before you guys come in and kill him?”

“Not quite.” The male said, twirling the large amber ring on his finger. “He needs to die without magic being used to deal the blow, or else it won’t be believable since nobody knows you possess any kind of magic. Malgorm is to be slain with a dagger, the old fashioned way. Nesta will use her magic to restrain him and his powers, while Azriel comes in and deals the killing blow.”

“Azriel?” You baulked. “Why not you, Eris? Don’t you want to be the one to kill your brother?”

“Believe me, there are few things that would make me happier.” Eris said bitterly. “But Azriel can use his shadows to mask his scent – it would be too obvious if I killed him. My father knows exactly how I fight, how I wield a blade. We cannot take that risk. Plus, I believe the shadowsinger is still trying to make up for his role in your capture in the Night Court. Besides, I am trying to conserve my power to make killing my father as easy as possible.”

You hadn’t expected Azriel to be actively participating in this plan. It was an act of war for him to slay Malgorm, and a huge risk for him to take. But Eris was right – for the sake of evidence, it was easier if Azriel killed Malgorm with a blade than if Eris incinerated the bastard with his magic. “So what will you be doing amidst all this?” You asked. “Standing in the corner braiding your hair?”

“My job will be to keep you out of harm’s way after Nesta and Azriel enter the picture. And to provide backup if needed, but I am confident in Nesta’s ability to take on my brother alone. Especially with her hatred towards him.”

You glanced at Nesta, who met your gaze and nodded. “I will deal with Malgorm.” She promised, her voice cold.

“Once Malgorm is dead, Azriel will winnow Nesta away and I will make sure everything is in order. My guards have been instructed to enter the room once I depart, and they will take you to the dungeons while I go inform my father. You will be chained, but Azriel has the key. He will be in the cell with you, hiding Nesta with him. Once my father comes down, Nesta and I will work on killing him while Azriel unchains you. He will take you to my personal residence and get you healed up. Once Beron is dead, we will all breathe a sigh of relief.”

“And I won’t have to marry that awful male.” You added.

Eris nodded. “Precisely. by tomorrow morning, my father and brother will be dead, and I will be High Lord. And we will drink the best wine my court has to offer to celebrate.”

 *********************

It was impossible to try and sleep. You didn’t know why you bothered – perhaps it was an attempt to make time pass until the inevitable happened. Malgorm was coming for you. And every creak and noise from the surrounding area made you flinch.

It wasn’t the pain you were afraid of. Gods knew you had endured worse at the hands of Rhysand. It was the fact that so many things could go wrong. You were about to play a role in two murders. Well deserved ones, but murders nonetheless.

Please, You prayed to the Mother. Let us get through this.

You knew it was somewhat pointless, given that Estelle had said you were an incarnate version of the goddess she was. But you could still feel her presence, watching over you as if she, too, feared for what was going to happen. 

You knew Eris, Nesta, and Azriel were not far away, cloaked in the darkness by Azriel’s shadows as they waited. But even their presence was not enough to bring you comfort. Your body was sweating with dread, the usually comfortable mattress feeling like rocks as you tossed and turned.

It was going to be a long night.

 *********************

It was three hours later when the door creaked open, and you forced yourself to lie still as the unmistakable footsteps of Malgorm entered your room. The sound of a lock closing shut made your blood run cold. He was here.

You pretended to be asleep as you felt Malgorm walk around to the base of your bed. His presence was like a cobra in the dark, poised to strike at any moment, but not quite yet. The anxiety nearly made you tremble as you put on the best sleeping performance of your life.

You felt the covers being viciously yanked off of your body. Your surprised jolt awake wasn’t entirely an act. You blinked several times, panting frantically as your eyes focused on the male before you.

The sight of him made your stomach churn. Malgorm’s expression was nothing but predatory, his eyes practically glowing with glee in the dark as he drank in your nightgown-clad form. “Hello, lovely.” He purred.

You scrambled against the headboard, trying to cover your bare legs. “What are you doing here? It’s late, and your father said–”

“I don’t give a shit about what my father said.” Malgorm growled. “You are mine to do with as I please. Not even he has a say in that.”

You could feel Nesta’s anxiety through the bond, which increased your own. A large hand reached forward and grabbed your ankle, yanking you down to his end of the bed. Your body burned against the sheets as you were dragged towards him, squirming. “Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” Malgorm mocked your voice before laughing and digging his sharp nails into your ankles. “I love it when they beg like that. So pathetic. I will not fuck you tonight, dear wife, that will have to wait until after the wedding I’m afraid. But I can enjoy other types of begging from you until then.”

Malgorm reached into his pocket and drew out the same knife had used the other day on you. In response, the barely healed cuts that littered your skin began to sting, as if he was reopening them all over again. Undoubtedly something he would likely try.

“I said no!” You shouted, bringing up your free leg and mustering all your strength to kick Malgorm between his legs.

The male let out a surprised groan as your foot connected with his groin. You gulped nervously – Eris had said to fight off Malgorm’s advances, but by the murderous look that crossed his face, you knew you had maybe taken it a bit too far.

“You little bitch.” Malgorm snarled furiously, tossing the dagger aside and launching himself at you. You had a split second to prepare yourself for his anger, and then the blows began.

Malgorm’s large form landed on top of you, his knees pinning down your legs as he drew back his fists and began bringing them down on you. 

The first blow collided with your stomach, knocking the air out of you. The second one came immediately after, agony lacing your cheek as his knuckles slammed into it. Your body screamed in pain as his fists pummelled you, punching and slapping with tremendous force. Through blurry vision, you saw his amber eyes wild with fury and glee as you squirmed beneath him. It was enough to fuel you with enough anger to finally begin fighting back. He had gotten his blows in, judging from the blood that pooled in your mouth. Now it was time to make the struggle look real.

With a strength you didn’t know you possessed, you freed your left hand and raked your nails across his face, clawing deep enough you felt blood. You screeched furiously as you began meeting his blows with your own, biting and clawing like a creature from hell. Malgorm continued to pummelled you with his fists, but you barely felt it as you savoured the growl of pain he emitted as you fought back, your elbow connecting with his chest.

You couldn’t tell if it had been hours or seconds before a current of silver fire exploded from the corner of the room, sweeping in and curling between your bodies. Malgorm’s weight was lifted off of you, his body thrown into the wall. Flames of silver wrapped around his wrists and legs, pinning him to the surface as he snarled furiously, Flickers of orange stemmed from Malgorm’s fingers, but were quickly smothered by the silver flames.

Through blurry vision, you saw Nesta emerge from the shadows, the dark ribbons peeling away from her body and skirting back to the towering form of Azriel. Hazel and silver eyes glowed in the darkness as Nesta approached Malgorm’s struggling form like a goddess of death, Azriel quietly beside her like the executioner of an ancient queen. Death and darkness, united against Malgorm who could do nothing but sputter angrily.

“You will never touch her again.” Nesta hissed at him, silver flames bathing her body like an otherworldly gown. They danced around her, happy to be unleashed.

“Let me go, cunt!” Malgorm spat.

“You will not speak to my mate that way.” A familiar voice sounded from behind Azriel. Eris peeled out of the shadows, his amber eyes blazing with fury. He came to stand beside Nesta, whose silver flames licked at his fingers, as if they wanted his attention.

“I should have known you were behind this.” Malgorm said furiously. “Once father finds out, he will have your head.”

“Father won’t find out.” Eris said coolly. “Because you won’t be alive to tell him. Actually, I had not even planned on making an appearance to you until I saw your corpse on the floor. But I had to see the look in your eyes when you knew you were going to die.”

“You won’t kill me.”

“No, I won’t. But he will.” Eris stepped aside to let Azriel stalk forward, shadows dancing around his scarred hands as the blade Malgorm had tossed aside gleamed in his hand.

To your delight, Malgorm’s eyes flickered with fear. Azriel had a reputation amongst all courts for his cruelty, it seemed. Even in your half-conscious state, you watched with a shiver of fear for Malgorm as the coldness in Azriel’s eyes made the room nearly freeze over. “Any last words, Malgorm?” Azriel’s voice was soft but lethal, the unmistakable voice of death against the echoing rush of Nesta’s silver fire.

“Father will kill you all.” Malgorm hissed, albeit with a hint of tremble in his voice.

“Beron will be dead before your body even grows cold.” Eris said before nodding at Azriel. Within a heartbeat, the shadowsinger brought the blade up to Malgorm’s neck and plunged it into his throat. It was messy and untrained, the opposite of how Azriel would normally deal a death blow – but it was a deliberate choice, you realised. One to make it look like you truly killed Malgorm.

A sick, gurgling noise echoed throughout the room as the male began choking on his own blood. It gushed from his throat, filling the air with a burnt, coppery stench. After the longest minute of eternity, the light left Malgorm’s eyes as he took his last attempt at a breath, body going limp under Nesta’s silver flames.

Malgorm’s body hit the ground with a thump, his face still twisted in a look of pure hate. The silver fire retreated, going back to Nesta’s fingertips. Not a single mark was left in the room from them, evidence of Nesta’s new control of her magic. You tried to turn your gaze to her, but Azriel blocked your view. The Illyrian crouched down beside you, pity in his hazel eyes as he muttered, “I apologise, this is going to be unpleasant but necessary.”

Before you could wrap your brain around his words, scarred hands filled with dark red blood met your own fingers. Azriel carefully painted Malgorm’s blood on your hands, face, and chest, using his fingers to flick it as if it were paint and you the canvas, creating a splatter effect. You fought the urge to gag at the scent, a single tear falling down your cheek as the adrenaline wore off and the pain from Malgorm’s fists began to take over.

When he was done, Azriel carefully placed the blade next to you, staging the perfect crime scene.

“(Y/N)...” Nesta’s worried voice sounded through your weary blinks, but was cut off by Eris’s sharp voice.

“Az, get her out of here. Now.”

You whimpered, but had only a split second to see the horrified look on Nesta’s face before Azriel’s shadows encased her, whisking her away.

“I know it hurts, love,” Eris said softly, having crouched down beside you. “You were brave, and I am so proud of you.”

And then you felt it. 

That tug in your chest that had always led you straight to Nesta and her mind.

Only this time, there was a fork in the path, a new rope to travel down. You felt yourself falling down it, away from the comforting silver clouds of Nesta’s end of the bond and into the red mists. The scent of smoke and evergreens enveloped your senses, and your skin was hot as if you were being bathed in flame.

At the very end of the magical rope, orange flames burned. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly seeing clearly as you met the orange flaming eyes of Eris.

The male at the other end of the rope. The mating bond.

“Eris…” His name felt different on your tongue than the hundreds of other times you had said it. This time, it was like a sacred prayer in a forgotten language was being uttered from your lips, the world itself spinning around you – and not just from the punches to the head that you took.

“I am sorry…” Eris’s voice was soft, and to your confusion, lacked the surprise that was reflected in your own.

Then it hit you. You reached down into the newly snapped bond, feeling the whirlwind of emotions of the flames that surrounded it. There was sadness, fear, and about fifty other different emotions, but not the one that you had expected the most: shock.  

Your stomach dropped, and you could barely hear your own voice as you spoke. “You… you knew.” You rasped.

Eris said nothing, only stared down at you with sadness and regret across his pale face.

You sat up, and said stronger this time, “You KNEW? All this time, you knew that you were…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed your own blood before uttering the phrase you never thought you’d say to him: “You knew that you’re my mate?”

He did not answer, but his expression said it all.

“YOU KNEW!” You screamed at him hoarsely. “Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me that you knew, all this time, that I was mated to you. And that even after I placed all my trust in you, put my fucking life in your hands, you still kept it from me.” Every word was agony, but you didn’t care.

The prince swallowed, his face breaking. “Yes. I knew.”

Tears flowed down your face. “Since when?”

“Since the Winter Solstice when Azriel took you away.”

You let out a sob, the force of it aching your sore ribs. Each breath was shaky, and you pulled yourself away from the bond, feeling the sting of the action deep within your chest. 

Eris had known since the ball in the Hewn City. You had trusted him with your plan, having felt something within that reassured you that you could trust the male. You could never explain it, choosing to justify it with a dozen other reasons. But now you knew why.

Was that the only reason Eris had helped you? Not because he truly cared, but because a mating bond forced him to care? The thought stung, and you recalled every time you had looked at him while in Autumn, and wondered how he could look you in the eyes and pretend he wasn’t keeping this big secret from you.

Once again, Eris Vanserra proved himself a liar.

“(Y/N)...” He began.

You cut him off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear your excuses or more lies. It doesn’t change the fact that you kept this from me for weeks, for months. You’re a snake, Eris. And you’re no better than your father.”

Eris flinched as if you’d slapped him, a faint pooling of tears forming in his eyes. But you didn’t care, you just kept going.

“Get out.” You growled. “Get the fuck out of my sight. You’re fucking dead to me. I don’t care if you’re my mate. If you were a halfway decent male, you’d have fucking told me about the mating bond. But you’re not. So get out. GET. OUT.” You screamed the last two words at him, and as your vision faded to black you saw a single tear slip down his cheek as Eris stood up and left the room.

You didn’t even feel Saeros and Ivar dragging you to the dungeon.

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[joels-darlin]

Monday Morning - The Rescue

Chapter 1 can be found here - Ch 1: Monday Moring - The Situation

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of blood and injuries. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: A standard Monday morning commute to the DEA office takes a harrowing turn of events. Now Javi and Steve are here to rescue you.

Word count: 2469

Author Note: Apologies this took so long to get out but have been hit with huge writers block recently and finally got through it!! I am debating (being a strong word here) wrapping this all up with a Chapter 3, so if you want it please let me know! Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️

Special thankyou to @ladybess-a03 for your help/support on this and providing your amazing Beta reading services which I am forever grateful for ♥️ AO3 Link

Javier was losing his mind, anxiety bubbling in his chest an unusual feeling for him. Taking another glance around, his eyes landed on the clock that hung on the yellowing walls of the office.10:43am, and you still hadn’t stepped through those heavy brown doors. He knew you liked to be in earlier than the rest, taking the first couple of hours of peace to catch up with any leftover paperwork and enjoy the coffee you grabbed from near the markets on your short commute in.

His fingers drummed against the solid oak desk, shifting to grab another file from the growing pile of paperwork next to him. Having only drained his coffee cup a mere five minutes ago, file still in his hand closed, Javi pondered for a second thoughts of you filling his mind. 

“Fuck this!” he thought shoving the chair back with force and standing to his feet. Snatching the cup from the desk he stalked to the kitchen; he needed a distraction, and fast.

In the kitchen was where he ran into Steve who seemed to have a similar need for a caffeine fix. Javi made himself busy washing and drying his cup before leaving it next to the coffee machine, signaling he was next in the queue.

“You heard from her?” Steve spoke first, breaking the unusual silence between the pair.

“Nothing, she must be on holiday or sick?”

“I spoke to the front desk earlier, but no phone calls or requests have come in,” Steve responded in a flat tone.

As far as they were concerned this was unusual behavior, and something felt really wrong. You had never missed a day's work, always opting to call in at the earliest convenience if you were sick or unable to come in. After Steve left, Javi busied himself again now that the coffee machine was free, retreating back to his desk shortly after. A sigh left his lips on approach as he spotted the paperwork pile which he swore had increased since he had stepped away.

The day dragged on like any other; go through the never-ending paperwork, look at leads on Escobar, review new (but also useless) intelligence. It was the conversation between some other colleagues that caught his attention on his seventh visit to the kitchen for a refill.

“Did you hear about the trouble this morning? At the markets, I heard some young woman was bundled into the back of a car. They must be in trouble with Escobar and his cronies” he overheard. 

Javi’s ears pricked up at this, craning his neck towards the conversation happening in the other room. Paper thin walls meant no secrets were safe in this office. His mind suddenly went into overdrive. The markets? Wasn’t that near where you usually frequented for your coffee? Shoving his cup in the sink, not even bothering to clean it this time, he rushed back to his desk.

“Steve…can we talk…in private?” he asked. He leant over the desks, getting as close to his partner as possible trying to avoid causing any commotion. Moving his head to gesture at the storage cupboard across the other side of the room. Steve nodded, rising from his desk before following, closing the door behind.

”This better be good, I have a pile of paperwork to-” he began. 

“I was just in the kitchen…overheard a conversation about someone getting kidnapped by possibly Escobar’s men near the markets early this morning…you think it could be her?”. It had been radio silence all day, still not hearing anything from you, definitely a cause for concern.

“Wow, you really like her don’t you?” his partner chuckled. Steve knew Javi had a slight infatuation for his female partner but didn’t think it ran this deep. It was obvious sometimes though, the extra glances across the office towards your desk whilst working or the way his partners eyes lit up upon you entering the room.

“Steve…not now…seriously…could it be her?”

“What makes you think it could be? These things happen on the streets pretty much every day!”. Javi sighed, lifting his hand to card his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling and it won’t go away…”. 

What Steve failed to mention was also the sinking feeling in his stomach that had been churning around for most of the day; in his eyes you were a friend and even he was starting to get concerned. 

“I guess it won’t hurt to go ask around” he said. 

~~~

Absolutely useless, the pair might as well have stayed in the office, having not gotten a single lead on your whereabouts. With the endless shaking of heads and “No’s” they were met with, the frustration was grating. Not a single person had recognised your face in the picture they were showing around, but there had to be someone here. 

From the corner of his eye, Javi spotted it; the coffee cart. Still manned, an old looking bloke who must have been late sixties maybe. In all of ten minutes the man in question had identified you, and even made note of the number plate of the vehicle he saw you being carted into; it was like some sort of miracle. Javi and Steve left not long after, graciously thanking the man for his information, even grabbing a quick coffee whilst there as a token gesture. 

He might have just saved your life.

~~~

It took less than an hour for them to find the location once back at the office. A small group of the team pulled off their current assignments, their new focus now being tracking the whereabouts of the black SUV they now knew you had been taken in. It wasn’t long before they got a hit. The vehicle was last spotted in a location known to Escobar - owning establishments up and down the country.

As soon as the approval was given they were out of the office and into the car, the location being a disused house just a few miles from the market. It was a huge risk just two of them versus however many of Escobar’s men were guarding you. But Javi had to get you out if it was the last thing he ever did.

Under the cover of darkness they parked just up the road from the house, in the hopes to not raise any suspicions. Slipping out into the warm air, both quietly approaching the two doors on the building, splitting them evenly. Luckily, for once, there were only two men inside; taking one each the bodies dropped to the ground in the blink of an eye. The partners opted for a quick scan of the premises for any further Sicarios before giving the all clear.

“Cariño” Javi’s voice came out barely a whisper, catching sight of you from through the doorway. Eyes scanning your frame he could see you were stripped to just your underwear. Beaten, bruised, blindfolded and currently slumped over in a rusty metal chair. It wasn’t hard for him to miss your chest heaving with sobs. His heart sank, stomach twisting and turning in a sickly way - the bile starting rising in his throat. Then came the wave of rage. How could someone do this to you, a small, fragile but beautiful human being?.

Checking his surroundings again before holstering his gun he approached you cautiously, your head lifting slightly at the sounds of footsteps in the room.

“Please ...no…not again…please” you begged, screamed in fact. Evidently choking on a fresh set of tears. Javi stood frozen for a second a million thoughts whizzing around his head; what the fuck had they done to you?

“It’s Javi…sweetheart…you’re okay, Steve is outside the door…you-you’re safe now” he said, his own voice stammering as he processed the sight of you, the sickening feeling in his stomach not having passed yet as his mind ran with thoughts of what had happened to you in this room. 

“J-J-Javi….H-H-How?” you croaked. 

“Shhh now, it’s okay. I’m going to undo the ropes and blindfold for you. But it’s just me; I won’t hurt you” he said. 

Javi waited and the small nod of approval was enough for him to step closer. Approaching the back of the chair his eyes fell to your hands bound together with an old dirty rope. Releasing the knot took him longer than expected and he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing it hit the floor - not missing the angry bleeding marks which embellished the soft skin there.

Circling back around Javi wasn’t prepared for the sight he lay his eyes on; breaking his heart into pieces. The mixture of pain and blind rage bubbling up in his chest; insistent that he was going to make every single one of them pay. Fighting with his demons he wanted nothing more than to pull you into an embrace. Now was not the time for that though, as he was unsure how much physical damage you had endured, and wanted to get you straight to the hospital to be checked over.

“Hey…” a soft voice made you lift your head, eyes locking for a brief moment with those brown orbs, it being hard to miss the sadness and guilt swimming in them “…think you can stand?” Javi asked. 

You nodded, taking a minute for a deep breath in and out before shakily standing from the chair - feeling his eyes watching intently, ready to intercept at any moment. It wasn’t long before your shaking legs gave out, landing on the cold hard floor with a thump. At this point what was just another bruise for the ever growing collection.

“Okay cariño I’m going to carry you, alright? If you get uncomfortable at any point tell me, okay?”. Javi waited for your approval and after another slight nod he approached slowly, sliding one arm under the back of your knees and the other around your back, lifting your frame from the floor to carry you bridal style. Ever so careful with hand placement.

Cradled against his chest it was hard not to close your eyes, the sheer warmth radiating from his skin, your head nestled in the crook of his neck; forehead brushing against the exposed skin there. The smell of Javi filled your nose as you tried to control your breathing - a mix of leather, tobacco and coffee.

“You good, hermosa?” he asked. No words came out, just the nod of approval again to signal that you were okay. Making sure he moved slowly out of the house, he carefully bundled you into the backseat of the car.

“Is she alright?” the familiar voice cut through the darkness, and it took a second to realise that it was in fact Steve. You don’t remember much after that; the world plunged into darkness.

~~~

Coming to your senses, you slowly started blinking, desperately trying to open my eyes and see what’s around. The blinding light slowly subsided as you craned to take in the surroundings. Okay so this was a hospital, you knew that for certain, obvious by the pristine white walls and that goddamn awful bleach smell that made your nose crinkle in disgust. It was the soft voice from the right which caught your attention more though.

“Cariño…”. Turning your head, you saw him. There was Javi, sat in the sickly green looking hospital chair, standing the second your eyes locked. “…it’s okay we got you, you are safe now”.

A heavy sigh left your lips, the events of the morning playing vividly in your head. “I mean…I th-think so” your voice was hoarse and weak.

“I’ll go tell them you are awake” he smiled and reached out a soft warm hand, taking yours and giving it a quick squeeze before heading towards the door. 

Taking in the surroundings, you quickly noticed it was dark outside from the slight crack in the blinds over the window. How long had you been out? Looking down at your body, the tangle of wires and IV’s all connected into your skin causing a shudder to run up your spine. Not failing to notice that you were still just in your underwear, the scratchy feeling of the hospital blanket against your skin was uncomfortable, but at least it was covering you from the chest down. The door creaked open again, in strolling Javi moving to stand next to you.

Your skin was a mass of purple bruises and luckily only a few superficial cuts which were taken care of whilst you were out, your face being the part that had taken the brunt of the beating. They had left you with a hefty black eye, split lip, and fractured cheekbone. Javi was seething hearing the damage they had inflicted. But there was one thing he couldn’t get off his mind, the thought plaguing him for the many hours he had spent sitting in that goddamn chair.

“Sweetheart…I need to know…did-did…they touch you?” he stuttered, locking eyes with yours again, emphasis on the word he needed to get across so you understood what he was asking. Taking a moment to answer, you were obviously reliving the previous trauma and he could see it behind your eyes, tears just starting to collect at the lash line.

Gaze drawn back down to your lap all you could do was nod, not baring to look at him again knowing the tears will spill over. He had an idea but wanted it to come from you and the non-verbal response was enough. It took a lot for Javi to show his emotions but that was when he broke.

It was only when a nurse entered the room, fresh hospital gown in hand, that he turned away. More so to give you privacy whilst she helped you into the clothing, he let a single tear slip down his face whilst his back was turned, wiping it away with the heel of his hand. Gods above, he was going through it right now, unable to comprehend how someone could even do that to you. The feeling in his chest was insufferable, his heart breaking into a million tiny pieces again. He couldn’t even imagine the pain you must be feeling right now. 

It was only when he caught sight of the nurse leaving that he turned back around. Glancing over at the bed, you looked so small…so frightened. Javi wanted nothing more than to scoop you up into his arms and make the pain go away. But right now, that wouldn’t achieve anything, for as much as he wanted to. He was going to have to be so careful with you for a long, long while.

This was going to take time, but he swore then and there to be by your side every step of the way.

[munsonownsmyass]

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: After his first visit, Frank comes to town more often. As the days go by, him and Abby get closer.

Notes: Still just some good ol' pining for this one folks. It's a slowburn, I'm sorry 😆

But we get way more Frank in this one and some not so pure thoughts. But really... who could have pure thoughts around Frank Castle? 🥵

There's also a little nod to Matt Murdock in here 🤭

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Words: 3.3K

Part 1 - Masterlist - Part 3

Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since Abby had last seen Frank. Some days she caught herself looking at the door, hoping he would walk through.

Which in itself is really silly. First of all, Mildred said he rarely comes to town, always keeping to himself. Secondly, she had barely talked to him. So why did she think about him?

Well, she had to admit his eyes were kinda pretty. Okay, they were downright beautiful. And thinking about it, his lips were kinda plump and… really kissable.

God, was she really thirsting over a man she barely knew? It really had been too long since she had gotten laid. And how old was he anyway? Definitely older than her, but the beard probably made him look older than he actually was. Abby shakes her head, finishing putting some freshly baked muffins in the display.

Thankfully it’s a slow day, so Abby has lots of time to do some much-needed chores around the store. Browse for new recipes, put the delivered goods in the cooler or storage. Just as she puts the empty boxes away in the backroom, she hears the bell from the door.

“I’ll be there in a sec” she yells cheerfully. When Abby re-enters the store, she sees him. Frank Castle. Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and all that. Without thinking, she instantly smooths down the folds of her apron, before she walks towards him.

“Mr. Castle, what can I do for you today?”

“I wanted some more bread. And maybe some cookies too.”

“You came to the right place then.” she smiles softly, hoping he takes no offence by the playful tone to her voice. She walks towards the counter, gesturing to the selection she has, waiting for his order. When he walks closer, she is reminded of just how tall he is. And broad. God, he is broad.

She forces a smile, looking up at Frank with an innocent face, like she didn’t just think about him. “So what tickles your fancy?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks at her with an intense gaze. His eyes trailing down her body and up again, where they once again meet hers. Abby suddenly feels shy, strangely exposed under his gaze.

“Do you have more of that corn loaf?” He asks, his deep voice calm and soft.

Surprised, Abby’s lips quirk up into a smile. Figures he would be a man of habits. “The same bread again, Mr. Castle? You don’t want to try something new?”

“Just call me Frank.”

A sudden warm feeling washes over her at the prospect of getting to know Frank better. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“I do have one left.” Abby says softly, as she walks to the bread and put it in a bag. As she types the order into the register, Frank just looks at her, studying her quietly. Once she had added the cookies, she looks at him again. Not wanting him to go yet, but still not wanting to push too much, she gestures towards the coffee machine.

“You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No.” He says a bit too hard. He frowns quickly before his face turns softer. “No, thank you.”

It’s strange, as if he’s been alone for so long that he’s forgotten how to interact with people. Abby doesn't mind, though, but the thought makes her sad, makes her wonder why he keeps to himself.

He lingers for a moment, looking to the display, before his eyes find hers again. “You don’t have any red velvet cupcakes?”

 “No, but I can make you some.” Abby smiles softly, suddenly eyeing an opportunity. “If you leave your number, I can call you when they’re done?“

Frank nods softly, taking one of the notepads on the counter. As he scribbles down his number, Abby notices how small the ballpen is in his hand, how small the notepad is against the other. God, his hands are huge. Just like the rest of him. Before she can stop herself, Abby looks him up and down, before scolding herself. Down girl. She doesn’t even know him yet. And even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do, hopeless around men. Truth be told, she’d never had a serious relationship, always been a little shy. Or she just never found the right one. But… Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

She forces herself to look away, biting her lip in shame.

Frank hands her the block, before he puts his hands back into the pocket of his coat. Silence falls between them. Abby fidgets with the block, while Frank looks at her. He opens his mouth, as if he’s gonna say something, but no words come out. He looks away, nods and turns towards the door.

“Have a nice day, Frank.”

He gives her a quick wave and leaves the store. Abby looks after him until he reaches his car, wondering what he wanted to say. She looks at the block in her hand, smiling, before she returns to her chores.

The next day, Abby and Mildred are sitting in the couch area, when Mildred spots something outside.

“Well, will you look at that? Frank is in town again. Twice in one month.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes following him as he walks towards the shop. “Don’t think that has ever happened before.”

“Actually…” Abby starts softly, biting her bottom lip. Mildred looks at her, scotching closer. “He was here yesterday.”

Mildred looks at Abby softly, raising her brow, as a shit eating grin spreads on her face. “Hmm… I wonder what’s suddenly causing him to visit more.”

She nudges Abby’s shoulder playfully, before she puts her cup down, walking towards the back room.

“What are you doing?” Abby asks, confused.

“Leaving you alone with him.” Mildred blinks, before she disappears behind the kitchen door, just in time for Frank to enter the shop. Abby turns to face him, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks. Frank walks towards her slowly, a faint smile on his lips.

Huh. A smile. Would you look at that? Abby can’t help but imagine how he would look with a full-on smile, how it would light up his face.

“I was wondering if my cakes were ready. Was heading to town anyways, so…”

“Oh, yeah. I… I was just about to call you, actually.” She smiles softly, fighting the urge to smile too much. Mildred couldn’t be right, could she?

Abby gets up to get his cakes, already packed up nicely in a little box. As she hands him the box, he has a faint smile on his face, his features softening ever so slightly. Looking softer, he’s not that intimidating. Sure, the hair was a little long, and that beard could use a little trim, too. But it really wasn’t that bad.

As he walks to the door, Abby softly wishes him a good day, even though he never reciprocates. Frank stops in the door, looking out into the street, before he looks back at her. His brown eyes are soft, as they look into her green ones.

“Have a nice day” he says quickly, before lowering his gaze and walking out the store.

Once outside, he looks through the window, but when he sees Abby watching, he blushes and looks away. As Frank walks to his car, Mildred comes out of the backroom, practically snickering. She puts her arm around Abby, a wide smile on her face.

“That is something I never thought I would see. You got more than 5 words out of him. He must like you.”

She gives Abby a little squeeze, before she returns to her coffee, already talking about the county fair, even though it’s still a month away. But Abby’s mind is still on Frank. He couldn’t possibly like her, could he?

She shakes her head, walking over to Mildred, trying not to smile too much.

The next few weeks flew by. Frank had come into the shop 3 more times. Once to pick up more cookies and twice for… Well, Abby wasn’t sure. He said he just wanted coffee, but the coffee couldn’t be that good, could it?

He was still very quiet, not talking much at all. A few sentences here and there, but one thing she noticed was his voice. He sounded warmer, more comfortable. Even his body language changes. He looks more relaxed, the tension gone from his shoulders, as he sits on the couch, enjoying a coffee while looking at the small bookshelves.

One day he casually mentioned he was reading Moby Dick as he was browsing through her collection of classics. It was nice to know they had that in common.

Sometimes they don’t even talk at all, just relax in each other’s company. Every so often, Abby would look up as she’s finishing up a cake, only to find Frank’s eyes already on her. And for every sweet smile she gave him, he would give one in return.

The bell to the shop rings. When Abby looks up, she is in shock for a second. Frank is there and in his hand is a bouquet of Gerber Daisies. Smiling widely, surprised by his gesture, she takes the flowers from him. “What is this for?”

“The shop's three-month anniversary.” His voice soft and… nervous? No, she must be mistaken. “It’s from my garden.” He continues softly, looking at her. Abby is one big smile, as she finds an empty vase and pour some water in. Once the flowers are in, she puts it right on the counter.

He couldn’t have picked a better flower, the Gerber Daisy being one of her favorites. She had always loved colors and could remember how her dad would always bring her mother a bouquet every Friday, filled with Gerber Daisies in all the colors the florist had.

“It… It reminded me of you.” He says softly, a gentleness to his voice that almost makes her heart ache.

“How so?” Abby asks softly, almost certain her face was flushed red at this point.

“You’re colorful.” He huffs softly, before looking down at his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks up into her eyes again. But before he can say anything, they’re interrupted by Mr. Peterson, the guy who owned the flower shop next door.

“Hello Miss Miller. Here with your flowers.”

When he sees Frank, he instantly smiles wider. “Mr. Castle, it’s such a pleasure you’ve been coming to town more.”

Frank nods and smiles, before he walks to the door in a hurry. Mr. Peterson just shrugs it off, before he begins replacing the flowers around the shop.

Abby looks down at the Daisies, gently taking one of the petals between her fingertips. So he thinks about her, huh? A warm feeling runs through her, her heart beating faster. Abby wondered what he was about to say, when they got interrupted? God, she wishes she knew.

Still caressing the soft petal, she barely hears when Mr. Peterson speaks to her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson. What?”

“Just said I was done, Dear. Have a good day.” He looks at her hand, before shooting her a knowing smile. He snickers softly as he leaves the store. Great, now that’ll be all over town. But somehow, she really doesn’t care. She turns to the flowers again and then notices something on the counter. A wallet.

Confused, she picks it up and looks for an ID. A huge grin spreads as she reads the name. Francis Cast-… Castiglione? Italian? And a Francis, huh? Curious, she reads the rest. His address, birthday and… Wait… His birthday was only a few days away. Should she…? No, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? He would probably hate it if she did anything.

If he wanted to celebrate his birthday, he would say so, right? But maybe he didn’t say anything because-

Before she can finish the thought, some customers walk in. As she helps them pick out some cakes, Frank comes back. He sees his wallet and gestures to Abby that he found it, before leaving again.

A week later, Abby is sitting in her car, heading down a small forest road. This was probably crazy, but she really wanted to do something nice for Frank.

The last few months they had gotten closer and dared she think, had become friends? And friends didn’t let another friend be alone on their birthday.

Finally, after 4 wrong turns and 50 checks to many with the GPS, Abby finally pulls into the driveway. As she looks around, she is at a loss for words. The cabin is beautiful, taken straight out of a travel magazine. Beautiful wood and stones, perfectly matched, looking gorgeous against the green of the woods. Near the treeline, there are huge stacks of lumber.

The whole place is really quiet, peaceful. She gets why Frank loves it up here.

From a small gap in the trees, Frank emerges, followed by two pitbulls. When he sees Abby, he drops his axe on a log and walks towards her car, a frown on his face.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. As he strides towards her car, she braces herself. Ready to be scolded, told to fuck off. She slowly exits the car, smiling gently at Frank.

“What are you doing here?”

She can’t quite decipher his expression. A mixture of anger and shock is painted on his face. Maybe even panic. Abby gets it. She’s probably the first one up here in years, maybe ever. “Sorry, I… It’s your birthday, so I wanted to-”

“How do you know?” He demands, looking into her eyes, confusion written all over his face.

“I… I looked in your wallet. To see who left it.” She bites her lip, looking at the ground like a scolded child. When she looks back up into his eyes, his expression has softened.

“Sorry, I… I never have visitors.”

“And now I see why.” Abby smiles nervously, gesturing towards his intimidating posture. Frank instantly relaxes.

A small wine comes from behind him, and they both look at the dogs, sitting nicely, waiting to be called over. Frank whistles and the dogs rush to Abby, almost knocking her over. She’s always loved dogs, grew up with them and had actually been thinking about adopting one after she moved out here.

“Easy boy.” Frank says softly to the eager dark one. God, his deep rich voice always makes her heart flutter.

“They’re cute. What’s their names?” Abby asks curiously, her eyes never leaving the dogs. Always been a dog person, maybe even liking them more than humans. Dogs are honest, their emotions and intentions always clear. She liked that.

“This guy is Max.” He points to the dark grey Pitbull, before turning to the red one. “And this little boy is… Red.”

Frank shuffles slightly, scratching the back of his head, as he looks down at the two of them. “Max I rescued, and Red I got at a shelter. Named after someone I knew years ago.”

He smiles softly as he pats squats down and pat the young Pitbull’s head. Abby couldn’t help but wonder who this person was. Must’ve have meant something to Frank. Abby stands again, brushing the dirt and dog hairs of her fingers. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down her dress, before gesturing towards her car. “I actually brought you something.”

Abby excitedly opens the door, pulling out the cake and a present. Her smile falls slightly, when she sees his face. Abby was expecting him to be surprised, but she never would have expected this.

He looks overwhelmed, like he can’t believe what is happening. Abby’s heart clenches at the thought. How long had it been since anyone had done anything like this for him?

He gestures for her to follow, leading her to the backyard. While he goes inside to get plates, Abby sits down in a lounge chair. She didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it wasn’t quite this. New stylish furniture that complimented the wood of the cabin. It was all very clean and minimalistic, but still somehow had soul. She looks towards the terrace door, dying to know what it looks like on the inside. Maybe next time.

Frank comes back with a tray, holding plates, cups and a teapot. But that’s not what has caught Abby’s attention.

While inside, Frank has taken his jacket off and holy fuck. Abby had never seen arms as his, suddenly feeling her throat dry up. Toned muscular arms, flexed, so thick. And God, the shirt. Until now, she had only seen him with a jacket or sweatshirt on, never really knowing what kind of body was underneath. But now, as his tight t-shirt clings to him slightly damp skin, nothing is left to imagination. A broad, muscular chest. Nipples perked in the cool afternoon air. Abs dancing under the thin fabric. She bites her lip, wondering what he would look like without it, sweat dripping down his chest as he chops wood?

It takes every ounce of willpower for Abby to look away, before she gets caught. Her head now filled with images she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, she clears her throat, pushing the cake towards Frank.

“I… I-“ she coughs, stumbling over her words. Damn, how could he affect her so much without even doing anything. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I made carrot cake.”

“Well, lucky for you I love cream cheese frosting.” A wide smile plays on his handsome features. Just when she didn’t think he could be any prettier, he smiles.

Frank carves them both a piece and then they eat in silence, looking out over his grounds. A big field of grass surrounded by trees. To one side, there’s a big greenhouse filled with plants and raised beds with herbs. To the other side there’s bushes with berries.

All over the yard there’s flowers, making it a colorful space. But closest to her, in many pots on the terrace, there’s Gerber Daisies. Just like the ones he gave her, in all colors of the rainbow. “This place is really wonderful, Frank.”

He just smiles and mutters a quiet thank you through a mouthful of cake. Abby giggles softly, the sight of Frank with his mouth full priceless, his cheeks filled out like a chipmunk. “So, I take it the cake was a hit?”

“Best damn cake I’ve had in years, sweetheart.”

She’s so damn easy. One ‘sweetheart’ leaves his lips and she’s a puddle. But to be fair, that voice of his is something else.

Abby gently pushes the present towards him. Frank tears the paper away, smiling when he sees the book. Okay, sure, maybe she should have gotten him something else. But she didn’t know him well enough, and he did seem to love books.

“Looking at what books you eyed at the shop, I thought that you might enjoy ‘The Call of the Wild’.”

“I love it, thank you.” Frank smiles softly, opening the book, inspecting the pages. Suddenly captivated by the way his fingers gently dance over the pages, Abby can’t help but wish she was that book. To have his fingers dance over her skin like that. She swallows a huge lump, looking at his hands. How could such a big book look small in his hands?

After a moment's silence, he looks into her eyes, suddenly looking a little nervous. “Abby, you’re going to the county fair, right?”

Slightly surprised by his question, she tells him how Mildred coerced her into helping set up. “But my evening is free. Why?”

“Maybe… You’d wanna go with me?”

Abby isn’t sure he heard him right. But the way he smiles, she knows it’s true. She can’t hold back her smile, as she happily agrees.

She was already tripping. Did he just ask her on a date? As she looks up into his beautiful chocolate eyes, a soft smile on his face, her heart flutters. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @chvoswxtch @theradioactivespidergwen @danzer8705 @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

And some no pressure tags 🙈: @anna-hawk @feelmyskinonyourskin @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober Day 10: Seven/MC & Robot

You can read this over on Ao3 if you’d prefer.

Rating: E for Everyone <3

Prompt: Seven/MC && Robot

WordCount: 1507

Summary: MC is keeping a secret from 707, and it's tearing him apart. But is it as earth-shattering a secret as he thinks?

Seven looked around the bunker, even going so far as to check the locked storage room. No MC.  This wasn’t the first time they’d gone somewhere, of course, but lately it had started to grate on him a little bit that she wouldn’t tell him anything.

She knew that secrets nearly tore about the entire RFA.  She knew he had abandonment issues. He was working on them.  But just disappearing was no good.  Sure, she’d leave a note telling him she was heading out to “work on something” or “take a class” but never about what, on what, for what.  Sometimes she took Saeran with her, sometimes he was moping around because she was busy.  As if one twin moping around wasn’t bad enough.

He flopped backwards onto the couch, fighting back the tears that were threatening.

“You could just ask her.” Vanderwood said, and Seven shouted in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“I’ve been here for the last twenty minutes, watching you pace around like an angry kitten.”

“Yeah, well MC’s gone.”

“Yep. Note says she’s working on something. Why are you so out of sorts?”

“She’s been ‘working on something’ or ‘taking a class’ or ‘out with school friends’ almost every day.”

“You’re supposed to be working too, you know.  So she’s doing something with her summer break, what of it?”

Seven sighed. “I know I’m overreacting. I just. I’m nervous. What if she.. what if she’s bored with me? What if I’m just too much and she needs a break? What if she only thought she loved me because there was a bomb and things were scary and she was trapped in a bad situation and now she realizes she has so much future ahead of her that being with a nerd like me is holding her back, and --”

“Zero Seven. You’re spiraling. MC Loves You.”

Seven huffed but didn’t say anything else, and Vanderwood stood and left the room.

Great, now I’m making everyone else hate me too. Soon I’ll be all alone. Poor little Zero Seven who can’t even keep the people around him who are paid to be there.

He sighed as his eyes started leaking.  He wasn’t crying, they were doing this all on their own without his input, just like everything else in his life.

Seconds or hours later, perhaps millennia, (but what was probably like three minutes), Vanderwood appeared with a glass of PhD Pepper on ice, and a bottle.

“You should take one of these, brat.” Vanderwood said quietly, shaking the pill bottle at him gently. “You’re stuck.”

Seven knew they were right, and took the pill with the soda, not even arguing when Vanderwood set the soda aside in order to pull Seven into a hug.

“Why do you care so much now?” Seven said, once words seemed like something he could make again.

“I always cared. It was just… forbidden.  But you freed me from those rules, so now you’re stuck with my feelings, kid.”

“You’re not even that much older than me.”

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

“No one can fool you, Vandy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The telltale beeps and clicks of the door opening woke Seven from the unexpected nap he’d been taking on the couch. At some point Vanderwood had disappeared, but a coaster had appeared under the (still cold) glass of PhD Pepper, so not all was lost.

Seven looked up to see MC walking in with her arms full of fast food fried chicken.

“Hey sweetie, I’m back from class, did you have a good nap?”

Seven shook his head, and MC set the food on the counter before coming over to crouch next to him.

“What happened?”

“You were gone.” he croaked, and wrapped his arms around her. “And you’re leaving again after dinner.”

MC hummed softly, hugging him back. “Yeah, I’m working on a project.”

“Are you going to leave me? Am I too much?”  He sniffed, trying not to cry. He’d gotten this far without crying about it, surely just another minute more…

MC pushed him out to arms length so she could look him in the eye. “Saeyoung Choi. I love you. More than my projects. More than school. More than the stars in the sky. More than life. More than PhD Pepper.”

He sniffed. “Now I know you’re exaggerating. It’s not possible to love something more than PhD Pepper.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Our love defies the laws of physics.” She leaned her forehead against his, and he shut his eyes. He may be weird, but that was probably the strangest view you could have of another person. “Listen, Sevenny.” She said, softly. “I love you. I’m trying to surprise you with something for your birthday, but I think the secrecy of it is too much. Not worth the stress I’m causing you. Do you want to come with me tonight?”

He gasped. “Wait… really?”  He pulled back from her, confused. “You want me to… come with?”

“I mean, I wanted to surprise you. But this surprise will be enough. I’d rather have you happy and confident every day than overjoyed on one specific day and stressed out and sad the rest.”

Seven’s chest felt tight. She really… “God, I love you MC.”

“I love you too, babe.” She chuckled, and kissed his cheek. He really did have the best girlfriend. “Come on now, I brought chicken and if it gets cold I think Jaehee would come beat me on principle.”

“Ooooh, she would.” Seven said, considering how that woman felt about proper nutrition and food safety combined. “Let’s not invoke her wrath.”

“What is this place?” Seven said, turning circles as he looked around the big, loud warehouse full of people working on various crafts.

“This is our local Maker Space.  It’s got all the tools I could possibly need, and classes so I can learn how to do things, and I can reserve space so I can work on projects like my lovely boyfriend’s birthday present without him spoiling himself by trying to help.” MC said with a pointed look. 

Seven blushed. He did like helping, was the thing. He was already itching to try and see what some of the people were doing so that he could hold a nail or put down some glue, or god forbid saw something.

“This is amazing.” He said, feeling very much like a Gisnep Princess. “But what are you working on?”

MC chuckled, and pulled him along over to a space along the wall where there were welding torches and other heavier metal-working tools set up.

“Stay right here and don’t touch anything and I’ll be right back.”

Seven was vibrating. This place was awesome.  So much better than just building his robots on the floor of his office. No wonder Vanderwood had been trying to get him to make a workshop… Now he didn’t have to. He could just come here with MC!

“Okay, close your eyes and hold out your hands, Seven.” MC said, and he did as he was told, until something solid was put in his hands.

“Can I look yet?”

“Not quiiiite…. okay, look!”

Seven opened his eyes and a small little Calico Cat sat in his hands.  She wasn’t complete, there was etching to mark out where all of her different colors would go, but her eyes lit up, and her ears twitched.  He’d never seen anything more adorable in his life, and he’d both met Elly and had a girlfriend. 

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, like the Elly-bot you made me. but calico!” She looked chagrined. “She’s not done yet, and the personality chip is way harder to program than I thought it was, even taking a class on it.”

“I can help with that!”

“I know you can, babe, but that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to have to do all the work to make your own present. I wanted to do it for you.”

“Oh.”  She was right.  If he’d known she was working on this he would have made her a full step-by-step IKEA-level guide on how to do all of it, but then it would have been basically him doing it with her hands, and not her making it for him, and he’d even gone and spoiled the surprise by being a complete ball of garbage, and--

“But how about this… Now that you know, there’s no way I’m going to keep you from helping… what if we made her together? We can make one for Saeran too.”

Seven bounced on his toes. He loved doing things with MC. And making a gift for Saeran? That was ideal. “He wants a shark.” He said, thinking about his twin.

“A shark robot.” MC was dubious.

“Yes.”

“We can’t make it swim though.”

“No. But we can make it hover.” His glasses flashed.

“Oh god.”

“Say yes, MC. Tell me we’ll build robots together.”

“Yes, Saeyoung. Seven. My love. Of course. The answer was always yes.”

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

Happy Jmart-iversary!!! Have some S1 annoyances-to-lovers (or, well, annoyances-to-mutual pining) Jmart to celebrate their day!

Martin usually has more shame than this.

Despite what certain Archivists might think, he isn’t oblivious. He knows Jon doesn’t like him, and while Jon seems to think that Martin has made it his mission in life to bother him whenever possible, Martin usually does his best to avoid Jon as much as civility and his job will allow.

But the thing is, Martin is lonely.

Worse than that, he’s 1 AM Lonely.

Martin has become something of an expert in loneliness, over the years, and he can confidently assert that 1 AM loneliness is the absolute worst. 7 AM loneliness is rough. 8 PM loneliness can be dire. But 1 AM loneliness is utterly, entirely hopeless. If he felt this way while the sun was still up, he might be able to find an excuse to call Tim and Sasha that wasn’t just, “I wanted to hear your voice.” If nothing else, he could walk to a library, or a coffee shop, and remember that there were other people in the world. But at 1 AM, he has nothing to do but sit with the yawning, aching emptiness in his chest, and feel like he is the last person left on the face of the earth.

Except for Jonathan Sims. 

He’d always sort of suspected that Jon had a deeply unhealthy work schedule, but he was still surprised at how often he wandered out of Document Storage after midnight, expecting to have the Archives to himself, only to run into Jon in the breakroom. He’s always more irritable at night – which Martin wouldn’t have thought possible, a month ago – but an irritable Jon is better than nothing, which is how Martin has found himself standing outside Jon’s office in his pajamas, socked feet barely keeping out the chill of the scuffed linoleum floor.

There’s still time to change his mind. He could still turn around, go back to the cot in Document Storage, and sit in his insomnia with some semblance of dignity intact.

He knocks. 

There’s no response, but Martin’s used to that, so he lets himself in. When the door opens, Jon lifts his head from his work to stare daggers at him.

“Yes?” he snaps. “What do you want?”

“Just– J-Just checking in. Do you need anything?”

“No,” Jon says with a finality that borders on rudeness.

“Right.” Martin can take a hint, so he starts backing out of the door. “I’ll, uh… I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Jon purses his lips like he wants to say, See to it that you do, but is aware that that would be rude even for him, and says nothing. Martin winces as he pulls the door shut behind him.

Well. He did achieve what he was setting out to. He no longer feels like he’s completely alone in the world – there’s at least one asshole here with him.

Somehow, that thought comforts him enough that he is finally able to sleep.

*

The next few days, Martin manages to sleep a bit better. The Archives are remarkably empty on the weekend – not even Jon is working Saturdays, this week – so he has to contend with 3 PM loneliness (and 4 PM loneliness, and 5 PM loneliness…) but by 1 AM he is sound asleep. When the work week starts again on Monday, Martin is feeling almost well-rested.

Jon, it seems, isn’t.

He hasn’t stayed late at the office for the past few days, but whatever he was doing away from work, Martin feels confident that it wasn’t sleeping. He’s in an even worse mood than usual, and chews Martin out for a full 5 minutes about a simple formatting error that Martin has seen Tim and Sasha make before. 

(Tim used to work in publishing, he thinks but does not point out, he built his career on finding formatting problems, so if even he screws this up occasionally, I’m pretty sure it’s not a huge deal. But of course, when Tim makes a mistake, he gets a note on his report asking him to revise it, not a 10-minute lecture in which it’s implied that he doesn’t take seriously the historic institution for which he works, and that he may as well be spitting on the grave of Jonah Magnus with each misused semicolon.)

Which makes it all the more embarrassing when 1 AM rolls around and Martin once again hesitates outside the door to Jon’s office. He’s got tea this time, which is a pretty feeble excuse to barge in at 1 in the morning, but it’s a better one than he had last time. He has to shift both mugs to one hand to get the door open.

“Tea?” he asks in lieu of a hello. “I was making some for myself and figured you might want some.” (It’s a bald-faced lie, but Jon doesn’t need to know that.) When Jon doesn’t respond, Martin trips over himself to fill the silence. “It’s, uh. I-It’s herbal. I hope that’s alright. Thought caffeine was probably a bad idea, this time of night.”

“Hm,” is all Jon says in response, but he still takes a sip.

Martin settles into the seat opposite the desk. Jon eyes him suspiciously, but once again says nothing. He turns his attention back to his laptop, and they drink their tea in silence. 

It’s almost pleasant, somehow. The tea is delicious, in Martin’s completely unbiased opinion, and Jon relaxes enough to become a reassuring presence. He doesn’t speak, but he’s a living, breathing human in the same room as Martin, and that’s all Martin needs right now. Jon sighs and coughs and taps his foot, and whenever he notices a mistake in whatever it is he’s reading, he gives an irritable click of his tongue and starts typing furiously. At one point he even laughs. It’s not much – a quiet little bark of a laugh, barely any louder than his sighs – but it still comes as a surprise.

“What?” Martin asks, and Jon startles as though he forgot Martin was there.

Jon looks vaguely mortified to have done something so human and unprofessional as to laugh, but he explains, “Tim’s report on the Ramao case. His methods for obtaining Ramao’s marriage license were… very Tim.”

“Ah.” Martin has a few guesses at what that could mean. “B&E, bribery, or flirting?”

“Flirting,” Jon confirms. “Honestly, I’d prefer a good B&E. At least then I wouldn’t have to explain to Elias why dinner for two at Frescobaldi counts as a business expense.”

“Always happy to do my part,” Martin grins, but his smile droops as he adds, “Though my last break-in didn’t quite go to plan.”

Jon’s face grows serious as well. “Right. How, uh, h-how are you… adjusting?”

“Fine,” Martin says, and it’s not the biggest lie he’s told in his life, but it’s close.

“Right,” Jon says again. He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions, and Martin can’t help but be relieved to let the subject drop, even if the rest of the conversation drops with it. They go back to drinking their tea in silence, and soon enough it’s time for Martin to collect their empty mugs and slink back out of the office.

This time, at least, Jon says good-bye.

“Good night, Martin.”

Martin’s lips twitch upward, just a hair. “Good night, Jon.”

He sets the mugs in the sink and heads back to Document Storage, and he’s asleep within minutes.

*

Tuesday night he manages to fall asleep at a shockingly reasonable hour. Which is wonderful, right up until it isn’t.

He wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare that is already fading from his memory. His dad was in it, which is rare. He tries to recall what his face had looked like, but it’s gone. Maybe he hadn’t even had a face – dreams are like that sometimes – but he can still feel it at the edges of his memory, slipping away with each passing second.

He does his best to remember what the dream had been about. He was back in the apartment he used to share with his mother, the tiny, dingy place that forever smelled like mildew and cigarettes even though neither of them smoked, and his father was there. Then he left, again, and his mother was furious. She didn’t need to say that she blamed Martin, he could read it in her face, but she told him anyway. And then the apartment was a hospital room, and there were nurses yelling at him, too – how could he upset his mother at a time like this? Didn’t he know how ill she was? And then the hospital was his new apartment, and the mildew smell wasn’t mildew at all but worms, worms and rot, and he hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks, and no one had thought to check on him, and the only one in the world who cared whether he lived or died was the woman trying to break down his door and fill him with worms.

So not the best dream he’s ever had.

He checks his phone. 12:22. Great. Too late to talk to anyone, too early to just get out of bed and start the day.

He stares out at the dark room. Document Storage has no windows, and with the hallway light off, there isn’t even any light spilling in under the doorway, so his eyes have nothing to catch on. He can do nothing but sit in the dark as the afterimage of his bright phone screen gets swallowed up by the gloom.

It’s not as though the dream was real. He’s safe for now; the worms can’t get to him here. And he’s not alone in the world. He’s not. His coworkers didn’t just abandon him to die – he’s seen the texts, he knows they had every reason to think he was safe.

Still, if Tim had been out for two full weeks with a stomach bug, Martin would have been on his doorstep with soup and ginger chews and an offer to drive him to the doctor any time he needed. He would have checked up on him. So would Sasha. So would Jon, probably – as much as he likes to present himself as aloof and coldly professional, Martin knows he cares about Tim and Sasha a whole lot more than he lets on. There’s only one person in the Archives who could disappear without being missed.

It isn’t that his friends don’t care about him. He knows they do. But he also knows, with bone-deep certainty, that they don’t care about him as much as he cares about them, and that’s a very lonely feeling.

Martin pushes himself out of bed. He doesn’t know what to do, exactly, but he’s had enough nightmares in his life to know that getting out of bed and away from the room he woke up in is a good place to start.

There’s a light on in Jon’s office. This time, Martin can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed when he steps inside.

Jon is sitting behind his desk, like always, scribbling furiously in the margins of some document Martin doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t even glance up when Martin enters the room this time.

“Yes?”

“Do you–” Martin’s voice is hoarse and rough – he hadn’t thought to get anything to drink when woke up, and now his throat is painfully dry – but he clears his throat and pushes through. “Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Right.”

Martin takes a seat in the chair beside the desk. He doesn’t try to make conversation. He doubts Jon wants to hear it, and he isn’t feeling up for it, anyway. He just sits and listens to the scratching of Jon’s pen.

He’d be more than happy to sit in silence all night, but Jon keeps pausing his work to shoot suspicious glances Martin’s way, and Martin knows he ought to say something, so he clears his throat again and asks, “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“Quite sure, thank you.”

He sounds more than a little irritated. Martin should definitely take that as a sign to leave, but he isn’t ready to go back to sitting in the dark in Document Storage just yet.

“I could make tea?” he offers. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“I don’t need tea,” Jon snaps. “And I don’t need help, and I certainly don’t need a nosy coworker barging into my office every five minutes to try and guilt me into leaving work.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” Jon insists. “And it’s none of your business how late I work–”

“I don’t care how late you work! I mean, I think you could stand to get some sleep once in a while, but that’s not–”

“Then why are you always hovering around any time I work late?”

Martin is too tired to think better of it before he snaps, “Because I’m lonely, Jon! Because it’s one in the bloody morning and I can’t sleep and everyone else I know is already in bed. Believe me, if there was a single other person I could be talking to right now, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh.”

That’s all Jon says. Martin isn’t sure what he’s going to say if he stays in this room any longer, so he stands up.

“I’m going to make tea. Do you want any?”

Jon nods.

When Martin comes back with two perfectly-brewed cups of camomile-and-vanilla, Jon has set aside his pen and his notes and is fidgeting at his desk. Anxiety and shame flicker across his face when he accepts the mug that Martin offers him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking. I thought you just wanted me out of the Archives.”

“Yeah, well. Not everything’s about you.”

And Jon laughs at that – the same soft, barking laugh he’d given to Tim’s report – and Martin feels a strange sort of affection flood through him at the sound. Pretty inconvenient, given that he was just getting used to being irritated with Jon.

“I suppose I deserve that.” Jon smiles, and it’s somehow worse than the laugh. There are a few more minutes of silence before he speaks up again. “Have you, um. Have you ever tried lavender?”

“What?”

“Whenever I tell people I have insomnia, they always recommend lavender – lavender essential oil, lavender tea, lavender eye masks…”

“Have you tried it? Does it help?”

“Not in the least,” Jon says. “Not for me. But maybe it would help you.”

“Maybe,” Martin agrees, more out of politeness than any real hope. “Never hurts to try.”

Jon nods. He looks for a moment like he’s debating with himself whether to say anything else, then he clears his throat with an awkward little grimace and says, “If– i-if you ever need to talk… I can’t promise I’ll be very good conversation, but I can promise I won’t yell at you next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

*

Martin’s insomnia doesn’t get any better. Breathing exercises don’t help, and neither does the white noise app he downloads. A box of lavender tea mysteriously appears in the break room, and it doesn’t make him tired, but it does leave him with a warm, fuzzy feeling that can’t be entirely explained by having drunk a hot beverage.

Jon starts staying late more often. Some nights, just knowing that he’s there is comforting enough to stave off the worst of Martin’s loneliness, but some nights he finds himself once again sitting in the chair in Jon’s office while Jon sits across from him with his nose buried in a statement. Jon never asks for an explanation anymore, just nods at Martin when he comes in and then gets back to work.

They don’t talk much on nights like this, but they do talk. Mostly it’s just chatter – how was your day? Did you see what Tim was wearing today? How long until they fix the aircon in this building? – but some nights the conversation opens up to the kind of vulnerability that only 2 AM can bring.

“I wish I was as close with Tim and Sasha as you are.”

It’s not a complete non sequitur – they were just talking about their coworkers – but Martin can still feel the tone shift between them.

Jon just blinks. “What do you mean? I’m certain they like you more than they like me – The three are always going out to lunch–”

“And we always invite you!” Martin reminds him, “You just never come! And anyway, you three go way back, you all know each other so well… They don’t even know me well enough to know if it’s me texting them or some evil worm woman.” He’s gotten to know Jon well enough over the past few weeks to know that, supportive or not, Jon’s never very quick with words of comfort, so he goes on. “I can’t complain – I mean, they’re nice! They’re really nice! It’s just… it’s not fun, feeling like the odd one out.”

Jon flashes him a grimace that Martin thinks is supposed to be commiserative but mostly just looks awkward. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I also wish I was closer with Tim and Sasha. Things haven’t been the same since we transferred from Research. And it doesn’t help that they both know Sasha should have been promoted over me.”

Martin wants to reassure him, tell him that Elias must have promoted him for a reason, but he’s the last person who can argue that Elias always hires the most qualified person for the job.

“Anyway,” Jon says, “I know for a fact they like you. Have you just told them how you feel?”

“Have you?”

Jon smiles. “Alright, fair enough.”

The conversation moves on to lighter topics from there, and Martin almost forgets about it. But the next time 1 AM loneliness hits, it’s a relief to know that he isn’t the only one in the Archives who’s lonely.

*

Jon stays late every night the next week. 

Martin knows Jon doesn’t want anyone chiding him, but he worries. He looks more and more worn out by the day, and Martin’s pretty sure he’s getting less work done for all the time he’s spending in the Archives.

When Martin wakes up from another nightmare (just a Prentiss nightmare this time, not a Prentiss-and-his-mother double feature) he doesn’t have to question if Jon’s around. When he checks his phone and sees that it’s well past 2 AM, some small, optimistic part of him thinks Jon might have gone home by now, but he isn’t at all surprised when he sees light spilling in from under the door in Jon’s office.

Jon doesn’t look up when Martin enters the room. 

He looks rough. His head is resting in his hands, shoulders slumped, fingers wearily massaging his temples. When he hears the door click closed behind Martin, he finally looks up, and Martin can see that the dark circles under his eyes have gotten worse.

“Go home, Jon,” he says, and Jon shakes his head.

“I’m fine.”

“You need sleep.”

“I doubt I could get any sleep tonight regardless,” Jon says. “Insomnia, remember?”

“Well, try,” Martin says, patience waning. “Go home.”

“I can’t.” Jon’s voice is small and hoarse, and he sounds more vulnerable than he ever has in all their late-night chats.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

 “You were alone for two weeks, Martin,” he says, voice hushed as though he’s confessing something. “I can’t leave you alone like that again.”

Oh. Martin puts some pieces together. His boss has been running himself ragged, staying at work past 2 in the morning most days, because he’s convinced Martin can’t handle being alone at night. He thinks that Martin is a child in need of a security blanket, and has decided that the best course of action is to simply never leave work. It is, unfortunately, very sweet, but it’s also utterly humiliating.

“I can handle being alone!” he sputters, mortified beyond belief. “Believe me, I’ve had plenty of practice. I don’t need you to always be around. I-I know I said I get lonely sometimes, but, God, I’m not that pathetic.”

Jon frowns. “I don’t think you’re pathetic,” he whispers. “Believe me, Martin, that’s the last thing I think. I know I haven’t always been… fair to you. Or kind. Or even civil. If I had been fair to you, you wouldn’t be living in this basement.” He drops his gaze and addresses his next words to his hands. “It’s my fault you have to stay here,” he murmurs. “The very least I can do is ensure that you don’t have to stay here alone.”

Martin doesn’t know what to say to that. His brain cycles through several options and discards them all as insufficient. In the end, he decides to forgo words altogether. He stands up, reaches over, and pulls Jon out of his seat and into a hug.

Jon startles, and for a moment Martin thinks he’s made a horrible miscalculation, but then wraps his scrawny arms around his middle and squeezes tight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I forgive you,” Martin says. “Now go home.”

*

That Friday, the four of them go out for drinks after work. It’s Martin’s idea, and he insists that they invite Jon. Tim and Sasha tell him it’s a lost cause – Jon’s never agreed to get lunch with them, he certainly won’t agree to drinks – but lo and behold, Jon agrees.

It’s awkward. Martin hasn’t left the Archives much since Prentiss, and he’s on high alert for worms, but he can’t deny that having his coworkers with him is a comfort. Sat around a sticky high-top table in a pub that smells like stale beer and fresh sweat, the conversation simply flows. Every now and then, the other three will laugh at some inside joke from their research days, but Jon always makes a point of bringing Martin up to speed.

Afterwards, Jon walks him back to the Archives. Martin is floating in a warm, hazy middle ground between ‘tipsy’ and ‘drunk,’ and Jon seems to be feeling much the same.

“I could stay, if you’d like,” Jon says.

“I’ll be fine,” Martin says.

When he makes it to the cot in Document Storage, he’s asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

*

It would be nice, Martin thinks, if getting closer to people were the straightforward antidote to loneliness – if making friends were enough to stop him feeling so utterly friendless. But loneliness is never a simple thing, and some nights he still finds himself lying awake at night feeling like the last man on earth.

He checks the time. 1 AM. Naturally.

For the second time in a week, Jon doesn’t look up to see Martin when he enters the room. This time, he’s slumped over the desk, dead asleep.

He looks smaller, somehow, when he’s sleeping. His face is slack, the perpetual furrow in his brow is gone, and his hair is falling across his face in a way that leaves Martin itching to reach over and tuck it behind his ear. He looks cute, if Martin’s being entirely honest, but Jon’s only started being mostly-nice to Martin in the past two weeks or so, so Martin isn’t ready to be that honest with himself quite yet.

He reaches out a hand and gently shakes Jon’s shoulder.

“Jon.”

Jon stirs but doesn’t wake, so Martin shakes harder. 

“Jon,” he repeats. No luck.

He sighs. He’s still wide awake, and he doubts that’s going to change any time soon. At least one of them should get some use out of the cot.

It’s surprisingly easy to pick Jon up. Jon stirs slightly as Martin scoops him into his arms, and for one terrifying second he thinks he’s going to wake up in Martin’s arms, but he doesn’t. Opening the doors to first the office and then Document Storage is more than a little tricky with his hands full, but he manages.

He sets Jon down on the bed as gently as he can, but Jon finally rouses as Martin tucks a blanket over his shoulders.

“Martin?” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Jon.”

It doesn’t seem like Jon needs any encouragement. His eyes are already slipping closed again, but he manages to ask, “Will you be alright on your own?”

“Yeah,” Martin says, “I’ll be alright.” 

And he means it.

(View this story on AO3)

[edgessunflower]

May I please request headcanons for Sonya, Cassie, Kitana, and Jacqui reacting to their S/O having a heart attack or stroke and going through the recovery process?

Omg finally mk requests! 😊

Jacqui

She was working when you came in to have lunch and not too long after when she was talking with Cassie that they heard cass's dad Johnny yell with you holding tightly to your chest immediately being taken to medical and being sent to the hospital for a heart attack

She was terrified going to the hospital with you seeing you in so much pain being taken back while she waited in the waiting room crying quietly but as soon as she saw her dad who johnny had called right after the ambulance left the base telling him that his daughter and the love of her life needed him and he came immediately hugging jacqui as she sobbed in his arms

They found out from the doctor that you had a heart attack and you were lucky to have survived it but you had to have surgery to clear blockage in your arteries from how bad it was

You spent 4 days in the hospital and went back to her home as you recovered with her staying by your side as well as her parents getting visits from all your friends at base

You slowly recovered going back to base at first doing paperwork and storage eventually back on missions with cass and jacqui under Sonya's command all three being mindful and careful of what missions you went on and how much stress you were put under

You go to the doctor quite a bit to make sure your heart is not blocked up again or swelled which could lead to another heart attack if not spotted and treated and jacqui makes sure to go with you and if she can't one or both of her parents go with you

Kitana

The two of you were having a day off at home just spending time together until you went to the bathroom

She was wiping the table when she heard a thud running to the bathroom seeing you on the floor immediately yelling for Jade who happened to be next door

She realized immediately that you were having a stroke staying with kitana until the ambulance came and the two of you went to the hospital

You went for x-rays and surgery leaving her a mess even with jade, Kotal Kahn, and Liu Kang there to try to keep her company as the time drags on and no news of your condition until 4 hours later

The doctor tells them that you had a stroke and had to have surgery for an hemorrhagic type of stroke due to a ruptured blood vessel in your brain that bled out due to a head injury you had not too long ago

You spent the next 3 months recovering from the stroke and 4 months after you slowly got back to training until you were well and fully okay to fight again

Kitana was right by your side the whole way from you being in the hospital to when you could finally fight again teaching you all of what you had to relearn before from talking, eating on your own, and walking to coordinating your body movements, picking things up, and finally fighting

You fully recovered but you're also more weary when you get a head injury and always have announcers give fellow fighters warnings for you due to the stroke

Sonya

She was on base with Cass while you were at home off for the day so you slept in and had been talking on the phone to your sister when you started feeling unbearable pain in your chest and collapsed

She had her phone put up so instead of her getting the call about you going to the hospital cassie did and she just sobbed as Jacqui, Takeda, and Kung Jin stood hearing the news and followed cassie as she yelled for sonya who turned seeing the four along with Kenshi and she immediately ran getting on a helicopter with everyone else while Johnny held cass in his arms in the back of the chopper

He hoped you were okay because if you were gone god he didn't know if either women would ever be okay again if you weren't there to keep the peace but also by being there and loving both of them and because of that you put them back together after all they had been through

They found out you had a severe heart attack and had been in surgery for 25 minutes out of 2 hours so they all waited through the whole time and thankfully you were alive and recovering

They stayed right by your side as you recovered sonya especially after not being there with you when it happened even when you told her that it wasn't her fault

You went back into fighting making sure your heart was healthy enough for the training and hard strain of physically fighting and once that was checked off you were back good as new and better than before

Cassie

The two of you and Jacqui were spending the day out on the beach and we're heading back to your and cass's apartment when you noticed you were slurring when you talked which confused you and them

The next thing you knew was you felt your body go numb before everything went black you fell and started having a stroke which terrified both cass and jacqui and they tried to help you and calling an ambulance

They waited as you were taken for testing and surgery both of them terrified of you not making it and cass not knowing what she was going to do without you

Sonya and Johnny made it to the hospital two hours later after Jacqui called them and told them what had happened and hearing cass sobbing I'm the background

They held her and waited until the doctor came and told them that you were okay but you were unconscious and the next morning you woke up to the relief of everyone

They all stayed and helped as you recover from the stroke learning how to do most of your motor and cognitive skills all over again and once you were okay and approved cass, sonya, and johnny taught you how to fight again and later on you learned your old Japanese fighting style from Takeda and his dad Kenshi who also helped you during the stroke

You became the old you again but also a new version of yourself that you never thought you would be or even become in any other set of circumstances

You always thank the people who stayed by your side and tell them how much you love them and how they saved you in more than one way just by helping you after the stroke

[trialbystory]

Vytal Festival Day 3: OCs

This will be the first of (hopefully) two things I post for the Vytal festival event being hosted by @remnants-of-rwby-events, but it's gonna be a bit different from my standard fare. When it came out RWBY was a big deal for me, to the point that despite being deep in a mindset of 'I'm not writing fanfic anymore, it's all original stuff all the time from now on,' I couldn't get the idea for a fanfic out of my head. Now I never actually wrote that story, but I did build the OC team that it would've followed. I posted them on reddit at the time and had some basic ideas of a story involving them, but never progressed beyond that. But I'm going to share a slightly polished version of them here with you. If you want to use any or all of them in your own projects, you're more than welcome, though I would appreciate being mentioned as their original creator and being told you're doing it so that I can check them out. Just please bear in mind that when I came up with this merry band the only thing we had to go on was the first season of the show; Volume 2 was five months away, Grimm Eclipse was still just a fan-made tech demo, and basically all the other spinoffs were in the concept phase or just barely past it.

Now without further ado, I present Team VCTR (Victor)

The team is led by Violetta Arlotti. Vi had anger issues when she was younger, and her father started giving her combat training as an outlet, going against her mother's wishes. After being gifted her grandmother's old huntress weapon, she took well to the lessons and wound up enrolling in Beacon. During initiation she was partnered with Connor Gray and impressed the headmaster with her cool head under pressure, which is what earned her the leader slot. At first she was hesitant to accept, seeing the worst in herself and the best in her teammates she thought she was the least suitable to lead. But with time and communication her fears were abated, and now she has the utmost confidence in all of VCTR, herself included. She doesn't always make the right call, and sometimes her anger still gets the better of her, but at the end of the day her team trusts her to pull them through, and so far she's been successful.

Appearance: Dark purple hair (worn in a ponytail), green eyes, and a few inches shy of being the tallest member of the team. Her combat outfit consists of a sleeveless top, leggings, and a leather bracer on her left arm. She carries a pair of quivers filled with arrows, one filled with standard broadhead arrows on her back, and another with dust-treated arrows on her right hip.

Weapon: Crystal Rain shifts between two forms as needed. The first is a Glaive and the second is a Longbow. The most prominent feature is a green crystal that in glaive form is located at the base of the blade and in bow form it acts as an arrow rest. It can also collapse down for storage, folding to roughly half the length to be carried more easily. Semblence: Shockwave: Vi can use her aura to generate a blast of force that follows in the wake of her own or her weapon's movements, allowing her to functionally add a second strike to her attacks while the ability is active. While it technically can be used with any of her movement, its utility outside of combat is limited and it's difficult to manipulate the force of the shockwave down to something that is more finesse than destructive.

---

The next member is Conner Grey, who is the only one to have been aware of any of his teammates before joining VCTR; while attending signal he developed a crush on his classmate, Tanis Phaena. And while his outgoing personality and prominent sense of humor caught many eyes among the both the male and female populations at Beacon, his romantic endeavors were often short-lived due to him still holding a torch for his Faunas teammate. Connor takes it upon himself to keep spirits high among his teammates through a combination of trash talk, banter, and pranks. Despite this, the others know that they can rely on him when it comes down to the wire. And while he's the weakest, slowest (without his semblence) member of the team, only Tanis can match him when it comes to sheer tenacity.

Appearance: Hazel eyes and short, messy black hair. Rarely seen without his signature grey zip-up hoodie, paired with simple blue jeans for the regular day to day, or by a pair of cargo pants as extra storage for dust and if he's expecting a fight.

Weapon: Comitas & Gravitas, a pair of telescoping batons designed and built by Connor originally as a test of how simple of a weapon he could design and still get his teachers' approval. The simple bludgeoning weapons have concealed dust chambers allowing them to be charged with elemental effects when the situation calls for it.

Semblance: Air Cushion: Connor can create and manipulate thin layer of air around his body. On the extreme end of the scale this can provide an extra layer of impact absorption or affect the trajectory of incoming projectiles to mitigate their damage (though the margins for pulling that maneuver off are razer-thin). Generally though, it's used for maneuverability; by creating the cushion between himself and the ground and controlling the air currents within it, he can effectively create controllable, near-frictionless platforms under his feet that not only allow him greater movement speed, but the ability to change his own position and facing without losing momentum.

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Member number 3 is Tanis Phaena. Born and raised in Vale, she was less subject to bullying than other faunas her age due to her intimidating appearance, but that didn't mean she had it easy. She was mostly ignored by her peers until she enrolled in Signal, where Tanis developed a false cheerfulness to shrug off efforts of the more courageous bad apples she ran into there. At her Beacon initiation her combat prowess earned the respect of her new partner Robert Morgan and thanks to his quietly intimidating presence combined with the open support of her other teammates her situation improved and eventually that false front was replaced with actual happiness. As a result she is fiercely loyal to her friends and endeavors to always stand up for them the same way they did for her. Appearance: Short, copper-red hair and amber eyes with slitted pupils. Green scales run from her hips and shoulders down the length of her limbs, with short but noticeable claws on her fingertips. The shortest member of VCTR, Tanis is built for speed and agility.

Weapon: The Gorgon Twins, a pair of katars she built at signal based on the recommendation of a teacher. The blades can split down the middle and retract to the side, allowing one or both to function in a more defensive manner as a kind of buckler and also revealing the hidden chakram launcher that provides Tanis a ranged combat option.

Semblance: Point Focus contracts Tanis' full attention down to a single opponent, slowing her percption of time so that she can attack with pinpoint precision giving her increased reaction speed. This is an extremely potent ability, but it severely limits her awareness of the wider field of combat. Increasing the range of her awareness while in her semblance is one of her biggest training goals.

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Last but not least is Robert Morgan. Even at a young age, Rob was a prodigy. He was entered into youth fighting tournaments and quickly earned distinction and popularity as a duelist, becoming a household name in Atlas. His parents enjoyed their son's fame, and the money he earned allowed the family to move from Mantle to the floating city, but Robert himself resented the constant attention, and wished for a more private life. So rather than make his debut on the international tournament scene he traveled to Vale and enrolled in Beacon, where he mostly kept to himself. He respects his teammates' abilities and values their friendship (though he rarely admits it out loud), and while being part of VCTR has helped him come out of his shell, he still ultimately prefers the company of his own thoughts.

Appearance: Shoulder-lenghth shaggy black hair, brown eyes, and a strong, barrel-chested frame. Typically seen in a long red coat with metallic buttons and wide cuffs, which he wears left open with the sleeeves pushed up above his elbows.

Weapon: Satisfaction, a Cutlass that can mechashift into a flintlock pistol. Despite its appearance, the latter form does include a repeating dust-cartridge magazine, but the flintlock mechanism does need to be manually cocked back for each shot. The weapon also contains an additional dust mechanism that's used to generate smoke for Rob to use with his semblance.

Semblance: Mistwraith allows Rob to control (but not create) smoke, fog, and other visible gases and vapor. Provided he has enough to work with, he can do everything from obscuring sightlines to creating illusions from the mists, including duplicates of himself, his teammates, or his opponents. Mistwraith also allows Rob to keep the mist sustained and concentrated, even in situations where it would otherwise naturally dissipate.