#i'm not into this series enough to follow it heavily

[theexaltedbride]

White Rabbit X Ex-DarkCOM Member Reader (GN).

(Got heavily inspired to write Rabbit X Reader stuff because the White Rabbit was the best thing of the DMC Netflix series. I have quite a few issues with the series from a writing perspective, but the rabbit was dynamite! So, since there was a shortage of Rabbit X Reader stuff, I decided to do it myself! I hope you all enjoy. All my Rabbit stuff will have him just be a demon rather than...if you know you know. It will all also be focused on an AU style in hopes of a happier ending, because I'm tired of dark and depressing shit. Get enough of that in the real world.)

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~"A soldier's duty to disobey an unlawful and immoral order is greater than their duty to obey a lawful order". ~

You were told this once by a superior officer. It always stuck with you, both in your service in the military, and afterwards when you were recruited by Dark Realm Command. It has been on your mind especially when you defect away from DarkCOM, because you refused to open fire on unarmed Makaians.

Killing isn't any more honorable than blindly following orders and stomping your feet like a wind up toy soldier. Only righteous service and protecting others with this power gives honor to a soldier's actions. That was how you made it through your initial tour of duty, and how you tried to serve in DarkCOM.

How you wish the others of DarkCOM could see that as well.

You didn't know it at first, you were taken in by all of Command's song and dance about demons and 'Hell'. How they were all invaders out to turn humanity into cattle for them to feast on. The best lies were born of truth, and you responded to many calls of rampaging demons mindlessly chomping down on random passersbys, or more conniving demons who seemed to be everything Darkcom warned you they were.

But every now and again, you were ordered to take part in an operation which felt wrong.

You tried to ignore it. You tried to tell yourself it was a trick. But raiding demon hideouts sometimes felt more like breaking into the homes of cowering families, and seeing how they fled or begged, filled you with doubt. You hesitated more and more each time.

Not every demon was a killer. Many of them fled in terror or had never harmed a person in their life. They just wanted to flee a shitty world run by a different kind of monster. The knowledge of it kept you up at night, until it finally came to a head, on the same day as you encountered the White Rabbit.

He had been known by Darkcom for a while now. 'Target: 'Thumper' was his label, he was an HVI that needed to be eliminated, as Darkcom intel suspected he had some sort of method of tunneling between realms and bringing demons into our world. A trap was laid at one of the locations Rabbit liked to use to welcome Makaians to Earth.

It was a large wooded area, so that his people could breathe untainted air, and see real flora that wasn't immediately dangerous. Your superiors had guessed his arrival time, and has set up in ambush for a few days ahead of time, you had been on watch when the portal opened, and Rabbit arrived leading several Makaians behind him, elderly, children, sickly outworlders who looked like just human beings who were oddly shaped or hairier than normal.

You called it in and reported that there were noncombatants in the area.

"They are all combatants. The moment they set foot on this planet they are designated hostile."

"There are no weapons, the have kids among them." You hiss into your radio, perhaps a little too loudly.

Rabbit's ears had twitched as if he'd heard you all, his eyes were scanning the forest for the source of the noise, yet the Makaians were still walking closer into the killbox, where they would have nowhere to run and be surrounded on all sides by guns ready to fire.

You wouldn't tolerate this...so you made your choice. You sprung the trap too early. You fired at the feet of the Makaians to force them to turn around and run back towards Rabbit and his portal, as the other Darkcom operatives were forced to change position to get a better angle, while you tried to get them to stop.

"Cease fire! Cease Fire! Noncombatants! " You shouted to your comrades, hoping to get through to them, even making universal hand signs to help convey it in the low light of the forests, hoping to give them pause.

This was wrong. These people didn't deserve to be hurt, and damn the orders and officers who wanted this to happen.

"Engage and eliminate, soldier! That's an order! Wipe them out, now!" One of the officers in the field had declared, and you just couldn't take it anymore.

"I WILL NOT OBEY THAT ORDER!" Had been screamed back at those you once called friends. Your battle brothers and battle sisters.

This wasn't missed by the Rabbit. Nor did he miss how you shot at some of your own, not shooting to kill, but to force them into cover and to keep their fire from hitting the fleeing people, because that's what they were. Not monsters, but people.

The others shouted at you that you were insane, or a traitor, with each word feeling like the bite of a nail being driven through your heart. There was no going back now, you'd done something which couldn't be undone.

But it had to be done.

You forced the other operatives to stay down while the Makaians fled, and half expected Rabbit to shut the portal on his way through, but he kept it open, and whistled for you while waving an arm.

"This way! Hurry!"

You covered your escape with a smoke grenade, and fled towards the Rabbit, expecting him to backstab you the entire time, but all he did was shove you through before closing it behind you both.

The Makaians were understandably surprised, and some even looked as if they were waiting for you to fire on them. Instead, you dropped the magazines from your weapons, cleared the chambers, and placed them on the ground. Only after you raised your arms did you notice that Rabbit was right behind you, knife held to the back of your neck, ready to plunge it in if you gave him a reason.

Rabbit didn't like being left in the dark, he hated not knowing things, and he was struggling to understand how a human, let alone a member of Darkcom, could have actually saved him and his people.

You found yourself detained and interrogated by the Rabbit for weeks, as he tried to discern if you were a spy, trying to trick him and lead them all to their doom. But your answers were always the same, and at one point you were in tears as you admitted that you couldn't live with yourself if you had knowingly killed innocents, so you threw your entire life away to do the right thing. There's no going back now.

"So, either kill me or let me go. I have nothing else now." You told the Rabbit, and a day later he came back with his decision. He cut your ropes and told you that you could stay, but that he'd be keeping an eye on you.

=================

-The rabbit is initially suspicious of you when you first escape back into Makai. Its only by the insistence of the Makaians who you saved that he doesn't throw you back through the portal and let DarkCom deal with you. As time goes on, he will grow to trust you more as he sees you actively trying to help everyone else there.

-He refused to give you any of your weapons back, until the refugee camp was attacked by one of the wild beasts. It was a giant beetle like beast smashing through the tunnels where the Refugees hid and remained safe from the poison air above. Rabbit and the other guards for the camp did what they could to fight the beast up close, and you were helping the refugees flee to safety when you spotted a broken metal case with your weapons inside.

You quickly grabbed them and started peppering the beast from a distance with shots and even a grenade. Each time the Bettle was moving to attack someone you would get its attention and force it to look your way or avoid attacking someone. You even went so far as to charge at it with a flare, which forced the creature to rear back in fear of the bright flame and smoke, finally giving rabbit a perfect strike at its soft underbelly, and slicing it open.

-Rabbit never forgot what you did, and how easily you could have killed them all if you'd wanted to, or how you risked your life yet again to save his people. From then on he allowed you more freedom in the camp, and when the dead Beetle was turned into food, he let you have the best part to eat. (Food is limited on Makai, and this small gesture told everyone else he trusted you).

-Rabbit first learned of Earth thanks to finding a vendor of human artifacts which sometimes slipped through the cracks of the barrier between worlds. He learned to read thanks to an old copy of Alice in Wonderland, which prominently displayed a rabbit on it and he wondered if it was about creatures like him. He used it to help him learn how to read and used to think 'Alice' was the term used for humans until he was old enough to read more advanced books and understand the difference between humans and demons (and how similar they were on a genetic level).

Sometimes he still slips up and refers to you as Alice.

-When it comes to supply runs and setting up safehouses on Earth, Rabbit was hesitant to bring you along, but you've proven invaluable in helping them find good places to get supplies, and even raided a few Darkcom safehouses you were familiar with but which were not in use. It looks like Darkcom command assumed you were dead after all this time and had neglected to re-secure these safehouses. you handed off everything you could to Rabbit to use in keeping the Makaians safe on the other side, and promised to help teach those how were willing how to use a weapon.

Guns will do nothing to the higher-level demons, but it can at least make it easier to hunt for good and scare off weaker demons who come trying to take supplies or shake the refugees down like old school mafia thugs. You've had to help chase them off and fight more hostile demons, but Rabbit always does the heavy lifting in that regard. At least now the refugees will be safer when you two aren't around.

-You even once managed to steal an entire semi-truck worth of packaged food thanks to your knowledge of places on Earth which you could hit without harming anyone. Rabbit wouldn't admit it, but you knew that glint in his eyes. He was impressed.

-Rabbit didn't know that there were actually 4 books following the stories of Wonderland, and he thanked you for letting him know, a bright smile on his face, as if he'd learned that Santa was indeed real.

-Surviving on Makai is a lot like being in the army or Darkcom. 90% of it is looking for something to do and hoping nothing kills you, the last 10% is pure terror and fighting for your life. Though it fluctuates, it still leaves you with plenty of time to think and looking for ways to help out, especially when in one of the tunnel networks Rabbit has deemed safe enough for refugees to hide in long-term.

-You spend some of your downtime telling stories to young Makaians to distract them from the hardships of life, and have more than once reenacted scenes from famous movies using a stick instead of a sword and eventually Rabbit will join in and help tell the stories with you. ( Yes like that scene from Reign of Fire).

-Other times you spend it running impromptu classes for Makaians about Earth and clearing up any misconceptions they may have about it (Such as some thinking cars were tamed monsters with a metal carapace, or that radios and TV had tiny demons inside forced to perform for humans). You've even been looking into ways to teach them how to drive stick shift for a car.

-Recently you've been helping Makaians learn how to live on Earth and among humans without arousing suspicion. This also includes asking Rabbit to help you by playing the part of a Makaian in disguise and what would be appropriate/a faux pas when among humans. Rabbit likes to think of himself as a showman and loves to have the eyes of others on him, so why not have him help give demonstrations?

This would be what eventually led to your first kiss. You both got a little too 'in character' and kept leaning in closer while 'showing how humans expressed affection' (Some demons do it by biting others by licking so you were showing the human ways) until you gave one another a quick peck of a kiss.

You'd meant to do it on his cheek, as had Rabbit, but you leaned in too quickly, and your lips had touched for a half a second.

-Rabbit would actually come to you later to apologize for the unexpected kiss, while making an offhand comment that it wasn't an unpleasant experience.

-You suggested to Rabbit that perhaps you should continue the lesson. It would take about two weeks for him to come back to that idea, but your second kiss was much better than the first one.

-You've both taken to sometimes going out in search of little gifts to give one another when doing scouting missions on Earth, and Rabbit keeps trying to find flowers which won't die immediately while on Makai. But it was through this which Darkcom began to learn you were still alive, and began to make plans to eliminate you.

-Whenever you have an engagement with Darkcom you try to go nonlethal as much as you can, tossing flashbangs, smoke grenades, using suppressing fire and shooting to wound rather than to kill, or loading a rubber bullet into a grenade launcher and firing off the massive thing towards one of the enemy shooters to break their wrist or crack a rib. You just need to take them out of the fight until everyone can retreat. But Darkcom knows you lack the stomach to go all the way and plan to use it against you.

This would end up further cementing Rabbit's love for you when he saw you in danger and risked his own life for you.

-Rabbit nearly tore his tendons moving faster than the human eye could see, moving fast enough to save you from a Darkcom ambush, where they lobbed grenades at you, and they had landed enough of them around you that it didn't matter where you ran. You would have been blown to bits no matter what. If the detonations didn't get you, then the shrapnel would have.

But Rabbit saw the grenades coming down around you and moved at such speeds his shoes were ripped and broken, hanging off of his feet, the seams of his shirt had ripped, his veins felt like they were ready to burst, but he was able to grab you and pull you to safety before the grenades went off.

The smoke it created was enough to give you both time to escape to a portal and out of the Darkcom trap. The moment Rabbit made it to the other side, he collapsed.

The pain he'd be in for a week after was enough to require some of the harder painkillers the Makaian refugees use as well as some drugs to bring down the swelling in his body. He was breathing hard the entire time, as if constantly trying to catch his breath, and in his dazed confusion he kept asking if you were okay, even while you tended to him and tried to soothe his pain.

He's not as strong or as fast as the true demons of Makai, normally he wouldn't push himself so hard. But seeing you in genuine danger of being killed caused him to put everything he had into running fast enough to save you.

-Afterwards he'd really get on your case about being soft on Darkcom and how you needed to stop fighting with one arm behind your back, but you knew he only did it because he cared about you.

-One of the angriest you've ever seen Rabbit get angry at another Makaian was when a mimic demon was imitating you and pretending to be you. The rabbit instantly knew it wasn't the real you, and lashed out.

'They didn't sound right, didn't smell right, didn't move right...it was an insult.' He would later say about the incident, after you had pulled Rabbit off of the mimic, where he'd been punching their singular eye and screaming at them to never imitate you again.

-He had actually never heard of Bugs Bunny until you managed to show him some clips of it. To your shock it actually had him laughing and guffawing at the cartoon rabbit's antics. You've rarely ever seen his mouth open that wide, but its good to see some real joy in his life now and again.

Though don't ever ask him to say 'What's Up Doc'. It will just annoy him.

-The worst arguments you and Rabbit ever have are about how to better handle DarkCom and whether to reveal the existence of Makai to the public. You insist on going public, making videos to send to the press, getting DNA samples to share with hospitals and universities, and showing the world that Makaian's aren't monsters!

If people knew the truth, the public outcry could put Darkcom on the backfoot and give the refugees a chance to claim genuine sanctuary. Or perhaps even trying to get other members of the organization to see that they are going about this all wrong.

The first idea is scoffed at by the Rabbit, the second however always leads to arguments.

"You need to get your head out of your ass, dearest. They are jackboot thugs who will happily kill all of us without losing a second of sleep. Whatever 'good members' who might exist among them were either killed off for asking too many questions or they jumped ship like you did. What remains are wind up killers waiting for their next mission. I will hear no more of it."

On and on the arguments go, with both of you making points and refusing to budge. Rabbit makes the point of how it takes only one single Darkcom spy among them to bring all of this crashing down.

"Just one single guided missile and we're all dead." Rabbit reminds you, and its hard to deny him, yet whenever he comes up with a plan which would cause civilian casualties you are quick to shoot those down. Those tactics will only further turn people against Makaians, and make it harder for them to reveal themselves to the public.

"If we act like the monsters they say we are, it will give them justification to treat us that way." You say to Rabbit.

"Why should that matter? Humans act like monsters all the time. Ghandi Games only work with people who can feel shame." He scoffs, and gets angry when you remind him that Ghandi did succeed and is venerated for it. On and on the two of you go to the point of sleeping in different beds, only to make up as the week goes along (especially as Rabbit is usually the first one to reach out, by offering you tea he made himself).

This work is hard, and it eats at you both. Whatever moments of joy can be found between you two have to be guarded, protected, and cherished. You've become a pariah to your own people for Rabbit and the Makaians. He understands this and wishes things were different.

It becomes a moot point as going less lethal proves to be more of an impossibility as DarkCom considers you a priority target for termination. They will not take you prisoner, they will not hear you out. They want to kill you, even if they are being spoonfed lies and propaganda, they will not hesitate and will show no mercy to the Makaians under your protection.

So, you do what you must.

As you have to fight some of your own former comrades, and kill some of them, Rabbit sees how it eats at you, and will hold you and let you cry as much as you need to.

"I ran out of tears a long time ago. But I remember how much better I felt afterwards...so take as long as you need." He will tell you, holding you tight, and pushing off other business unless it's absolutely critical he be there.

Yet he's starting to come around to the idea of finding other ways of helping the Makaians. Be it by going public, or by trying to find a different world altogether to flee to.

It has to be worth it. Something good has to come out of all of this. The pain can't end with more pain. No matter how deep you both have to go down into the rabbit hole, you're going to find a way to make things right.

Both worlds are cold and dark, full of so much pain, but together the two of you are bringing some light and much needed joy where possible.

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Couple's playlist.

~'We're All Mad Here' By SJ Tucker.

~'Her Name Is Alice.' By Shinedown.

~'White Rabbit' By Egypt Central.

~'Looking glass' By The Birthday Massacre.

~'No More' Disturbed.

~'The Good Soldier' By Nine Inch Nails.

~"Somewhere I belong." Linkin Park.

~'Novia' by Jake Daniels.

~'One Last Night' by Vaults.

~'Its not over' by Daughtry.

~'Whoever brings the night.' By Nightwish.

====

A good part of this entire idea was sparked by the Shower Ambush from The Rock, and I had it on repeat while I was writing certain parts of this to keep my muse going.

[juletheghoul]

distraction

a/n: I'm as shocked as you probably are with posting a full chapter today, along with a pretty extensive ask on Friday but here we are. I don't know why this character has inspired such devotion and creativity in me but I am not going to question it. This might be the most toxic chapter yet lol and If you aren't into it. no hard feelings! This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a light in a pretty rough week, and for listening to all of my rants and tangents. Love you girlie! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, gladiatorial violence, exhibitionism, Marcus being a possessive, jealous mess, creampie, heavily leaning into the ownership aspect of their 'relationship', master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

reblogs are appreciated

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The sun rose, much like it did on every other day, and you rose with it. 

With a yawn and a stretch you dressed, cursing at the way your tunic tattered at the seams. You’d have to mend it later, you made a mental note to remember as you rushed to start on your chores for the day. 

You found him splashing water from the jug and basin in his room, and moved quickly and quietly to help him dress for the day ahead. Silently he moved throughout the room, letting you adjust his clothes so they looked their best, he let you push his hair into place and to take the basin to be emptied while he made his way to his study. The sun was still high in the sky when the messenger came for him, bringing him the invitation from the Emperor himself to oversee the gladiatorial games in honour of his victory. His brow furrowed at the news, he would be in the pulvinus with the Emperor along with other Romans of proper birth. 

He didn’t take the news well, to him it was a folly. He had absolutely no wish to be celebrated, as far as he was concerned, his march into the city had been more than enough but he could not deny the invitation. So with a clench in his jaw and a number of frustrated sighs, he accepted, and set about making the preparations. 

The day of the games came and as his constant shadow, you followed to see to his needs and to pour for him. It was difficult to keep the excitement in check, every so often you’d glance down to your new tunic, bright white with details of gold to match your Dominus. Despite your many years of service, none of the people you’d served before had ever brought you to the arena, let alone in the presence of the Emperor, or in such a high seat as the pulvinus. Your march through the city towards the Colosseum was filled with cheers and the screams of people clamoring to see the General of the Roman army up close. 

He did his duty, waved and smiled for their benefit despite his great discomfort, and you did your duty as well–kept your head down, and your attention on him. 

The pulvinus was blessedly covered by rich fabrics, shielding the esteemed guests and slaves alike from the unforgiving rays of the sun. With his cup full, and his attention with the Emperor, you used the moment of reprieve to take in the sights. The opening games had come and gone and now the main event was to start. The gladiators filed out and took their place, awaiting the words that would set them on their path of violence. 

They were a mixed batch of fighters, all of them fearsome in their own way. There was a small, stocky one, his face was all anger and his arms were covered in scars. There was one that towered over them all, his arms and legs long enough to keep anyone from getting too close. There were twins, both of them smiling for the crowd, clearly favoured from the cheers they inspired. There was another, and he was the one that drew your eye. His hair was black as coal with eyes to match and although on the leaner side, the strength in his limbs was obvious. His sword hand flexed at the hilt and you watched him twirl the weapon, test its weight before he looked up to the pulvinus, in truth he reminded you of your Dominus; twenty years younger. 

He smiled up in your direction and your stomach twisted, for a moment you imagined your Dominus down in the sand, fighting for the crowd and it thrilled you. You imagined meeting him as a younger man, what he might have been like, what might he think of you?

“Girl.” His voice cut through your musing, his cup outstretched and you stumbled for only a heartbeat, imperceptible to anyone but him. His eyes tracked what had distracted you, and found the young Gladiator smiling still, and said nothing. His mood soured though and at once you chastised yourself for letting the arena distract you.  

Marcus introduced the main games, the Primus, and he did so without flair, without embellishment but it mattered not, the people screamed and the men before you fought for their lives against a myriad of challengers. You kept your eye on your Dominus, on his cup but the young gladiator –Varus– kept drawing your attention, he looked so like your General that you idly wondered if he could be his son, could he have fathered him during his younger years? It was known to happen, did he see the resemblance? Did anyone?

Varus is relentless, and despite making sure your Dominus’ needs are met your eyes track him, enraptured. It is difficult to be sure who it is he smiles at when he glances up in your direction, it is most likely the high-born Roman women. His skill is undeniable, and again your thoughts drift to a younger, wilder Marcus, would your general have given you those smiles so brazenly at that age?

“He does like to put on a show does he not?” One of the high born ladies remarks and you cannot help but watch as Varus laughs, cutting down those who challenge him with ease, even as some of his brothers fall. “Look how he smiles, he is of a form today.” They giggle between themselves as he points his sword in tribute towards them, or you, or the Emperor, it is hard to tell. 

“He definitely draws the eye.” Marcus speaks, agreeing with them, but you hear his displeasure and when you meet his eyes they are already focused on you. Your stomach drops at the look of displeasure on his face, your momentary lapse had not been taken lightly. Heat and embarrassment fill you to the brim and from then on your eyes find themselves downcast. “More wine, girl.” His tone is colder than you’ve ever heard it, enough to set your nerves alight. 

“Yes Dominus.” Your tone, in turn, is demure and humble and you pray to the Gods that you get through the games without embarrassing him further.

Varus and the twins stand victorious, and the crowd loves them for it, enough to shake the ground with their cheers but you keep your head down. With your error, you expected Marcus to excuse himself and make his way home once the games were over but it wasn’t to be. The Emperor had arranged for his guests to exchange words with the victors, and so down into the sand you went, following where your Dominus went on shaky legs. 

Up close, Varus was taller than your General, but not by much. He was strong, and lean, and covered in blood and gore, it did nothing to take away from his allure. It didn’t seem to bother him, if anything, it only made him more appealing. The resemblance was there, not as close as you’d imagined but there was something there, in the profile, in the gaze, he was a handsome man, but no one held a candle to Marcus in your eyes. 

The Emperor bestowed words of congratulations, and they bowed dutifully. Varus smiled, boldly, unbothered by the ire of your Dominus, his eyes wandered and when they found you they raked over your form unabashedly. He drank in the sight of your thighs through the slit in your tunic, in the curve of your neck and although you had no real interest in this man, you couldn’t help but fidget. 

Your Dominus clenched his jaw, but offered his good will all the same, albeit in a curt manner and once the pleasantries were exchanged, you were blessedly away from the arena, and off towards the villa once more. He’s eerily quiet on the trek back home, even for him and although he’s usually quite forgiving despite his gruff exterior, you pray to the Gods that you haven’t offended him past the point of return. His horse whinnies underneath him while you and his personal guard follow behind, and all at once he is off his horse and handing off the reins. 

“Come girl, I have business here.” He barely looks at you, but you rush to follow where he leads, down a quiet street away from the chaos of the day. You have to take two steps for every one of his in order to stay close. You take it as a good sign, that he calls on you to attend to him after the business in the pulvinus, and you steel yourself to serve to the best of your ability in whatever possible way he may need. He winds through different alleys and it takes a moment for you to wonder idly just where exactly he needs to go before you find yourself pressed up against the wall. 

“Have you grown tired of your Dominus?” His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you up against the wall. Not tight enough to cut off your breath, but tight enough to make you stand on the tips of your toes. His eyes were cold as frost, but there was passion laced through his words as well as rage. 

“No Dominus–”

“Do. Not. Lie.” His grip tightened for only a second, “Do you think me blind, girl? I saw the way you watched Varus.” The gladiator's name was a curse and for a moment you frowned at him, was this jealousy?

“Dominus, I could never, I was merely distracted–” You brought your hands up, trying vainly to soothe him with gentle touch but the anger burned hot within him, and he stepped closer, kicking your legs apart to press his knee between them. 

“Yes, distracted by him, he caught your eye. Do you desire him?” You felt your heart racing, thumping against his palm at your throat, “Tell me girl, have you forgotten that you belong to me? Do you wish to belong to another?”

“No Dominus! Only you, I–I could not help but notice Varus–” His jaw clenched at the sound of the other man's name upon your tongue. “Because, because he resembled you, Dominus.”

His anger faltered for a moment, but the frown remained, and so you continued. 

“He looked so like you Dominus, and I couldn’t help but imagine you at that age, fighting and smiling at me. I do not desire anyone else, I do not wish to belong to anyone else.” You brought your hands up, tentatively placing one upon his at your throat, and the other on his chest. 

“Did that excite you? Do you wish me to be younger?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes then, obscured by anger but shining through all the same and had he been anyone else, you might have laughed at the absurdity of his complex. 

“It only excited me, to imagine you smiling at me, fighting for me Dominus. I do not wish you to be any other way.” Your hands moved in tandem, one stroking at his arm softly, the other sliding down his chest, towards where his passion grew and pressed against your hip. “Look into my eyes and see the truth in my words, I belong to you, mind, body and soul, only you.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“Can you not see how much I desire you? How my heart beats only to the tune of your pleasure?” He isn’t unaffected by your words, you see him drink them down like a fine wine, and he sighs heavily at the feel of your palm on his manhood. “Take me, here and now Dominus, my want for you drips onto my thighs.” 

His eyes close and a heavy breath escapes his lips and you see your chance, you see the tiny fracture in his armor. “May I have your mouth Dominus?” You pulled him closer, while guiding his free hand to the Elysian fields between your legs. His fingers slipped under your coverings and found you wet and wanting and all at once his violence is coloured with passion instead of anger. 

“You will never belong to another, do you understand me girl?” Frantically he pulls at your tunic, moving it up, and pulling the neck down to bare your breasts to him, uncaring of the people who happen by. 

“You are mine, all of you, is mine.” His mouth pressed to yours roughly, stealing the breath out of your lungs. Your hands fumbled at his robes, joining in his madness and releasing his cock. He doesn’t let you touch it however, instead he turns you around and pulls your hips out. You hear him spit into his hand before lining himself up at the mouth of your sex, barely giving you a moment before burying himself to the hilt. 

You can’t help but moan and hold onto his arms, the grit of the wall pressed up against your face. His hand wrapped around your throat once more, holding you still while his hips drove forward, filling you over and over without respite, his other hand found your breast and held it tight, fanning the flames of your arousal for him. 

“This cunt—“ his mouth pressed against your ear, breathing harshly with the force of his exertion, “is mine, mine alone.” The moan clawed its way out from your throat, that he would be this affected by a simple glance should have scared you, but it didn’t. It only made your arousal flow like seawater.

Your cunt was the altar of his devotion, and his prayers were violent.

“Yes Dominus, yours alone.” You pushed back, turning your face as best you could to look him in the eye and his expression pulled another sound from your throat. He was enraptured, eyes blown black and mouth slack as his hips drilled, bouncing against the plump flesh of your backside. “I want to look at you Dominus, I want your mouth–” He groaned, pulling out quickly to turn you back around and within a breath he had one of your legs wrapped around his hip, his hand holding it at the knee, and his cock buried deep. His other hand held you firm by the throat. 

“Tell me girl, tell me you’re mine, only mine.” There was a desperation in his voice that pulled at something within you, something tender despite his brusque movements. 

“I’m yours Dominus, I belong to you–” You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him close to you, your grip tight and he moaned, unabashedly, “I only ever want to be yours.”

His eyes close before his lips have found yours, and you feel the way his pace stutters, he is close and all at once you need to feel him spill inside, his need to stake his claim burning you up like a fever. You move one hand down to your sex, to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, and with the other, you hold his hand to your throat. 

“Please Dominus, please fill me with your gift.” You moan the words out, and smile at the way he grinds himself deep with a low groan. The coil in your belly snaps as you feel him spill inside, and your flutters make him hiss, his mouth surging forward to claim yours hard enough to hurt but it matters not. Your heart and cunt are full with him just as it should be. 

His breath comes in pants as he removes his hand from your neck, and your breath hitches when he brushes his lips against your skin in silent apology. You know the moment will pass, and that soon, his mood will change and this interlude will end, as all interludes must but you seize the moment anyway, and pull his face up to meet his eyes. 

“I speak truth Dominus, my heart fills with joy to be yours.” Softly, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, for a moment you are worried that as his blood cools, so does his passion for you but he proves you wrong, and lets you kiss him. More than that, he keeps kissing you as he set your robes to right with gentle hands before pulling out with a hiss. He does not respond, there is no need to, his eyes speak for him. 

Within a few heartbeats, the look is gone and his usual mask is back in place. 

“Come girl, let us away.”

“Yes Dominus.” 

—

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi  @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed  @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @its-nebuleuse @missladym1981 @inept-the-magnificent @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ladyofmidlo72 @greenvita

[yapileon]

@TacklersCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 4

fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader 3569w pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3

phew! that's a long one, but i'm really proud of it, i've tried to get more comfortable in my pacing, hope u guys like it<3

The grass still smelled the same, bringing back unwanted memories of yesterday’s humiliation. Sweat ran down your forehead as you used your shirt to wipe it off; Ona would be proud of that move. The exhaustion got the best of you and you let yourself flop on the turf, breathing heavily and rolling on your back. Every coach who had ever trained you had told you to walk it off, but there wasn't any scientific evidence of that, and more importantly, there were no coaches around you.

The Barcelona sky was bright blue, though you could spot a few clouds here and there. If you were in a better mood, you’d have tried to guess what object their shape matched. The gentle wind caressed your face and you couldn’t contain a shiver. When you had arrived earlier in the morning, it was still dark, and you had witnessed the sun rise. Yesterday’s mistake pushed you to come to the field early to train. You needed to plunge your head back in the game, and quickly. The taste of humiliation still bitter in your mouth.

You had pushed yourself through multiple sets of drills, though none that would really improve your timing as you were training alone. But still, you knew you needed to run off the embarrassment, so you tackled shadow opponents, working on quickly going up and down. You sprinted until it felt like your legs would fall off. You did so many ball control exercises with intricate cones patterns it made your head spin. The previously pristine pitch now scattered with proofs of your training while you lay sprawled on the ground.

A voice shut up behind you, startling you in the process. “You do know what recovery day means, right?” The blonde had a disapproving tone matching the look on her face. “You’re not supposed to sneak in extra practice.” she finishes sternly. You gave your capitain a sheepish look.

“Running never hurt anyone?” you tried, but it seemed like Alexia wasn’t having any of it. So you followed up, “Why are you here anyways, are you not supposed to be in the recovery room?”

The older woman was not impressed.

“Part of the recovery plan today is to have an activation session.” she glared at you and you felt your body shrink in the dirt. At that, her voice softened when she added “Now stop being snarky and tell me what’s wrong, Cariño.” Her gaze felt heavy on you, like she was trying to see right through you. Maybe she did.

You open your mouth to speak but words are caught in your throat, no sounds leaving the tip of your tongue. Your hands are clenched and you can’t help but stare at them, or really anything but Alexia standing in front of you. The blonde sighed, and gently came to lay with you on the pitch.

Alexia isn’t sure of what to do. For the few days she has known you, you were always such a cheerful and energetic person. You managed to coax smiles out of the most serious players, all because your chaotic aura was incredibly endearing. She guessed your personality might have fooled them all, you’re still only a child after all. Seventeen and so much pressure on your shoulders.

“You’re doing great you know” she starts her voice warm, but you look up at her, frowning.

“I tackled a cone yesterday.” you whisper, words spilling out of your mouth before you could really think about it.

She frowns. “…That’s what it’s about?” her head tilts, giving away her confusion.

“Well, I mean, It’s just…” you struggle to piece together a correct phrase. You look up to see Alexia giving you a gentle, encouraging smile, and somehow it’s enough to send you in a ramble.

“Because, I’m trying really hard! But then I messed up that tackle. And, and! The Mapi cardboard, it was just to be funny, since we had talked about it during team bonding.” You rattled, gesturing without making much sense.

“But fans aren’t happy with me, and they’re right! I’m here to play football, because it’s my job! You guys shouldn’t have to deal with this, we’re not here to have fun, It’s not- I shouldn’t-” Your distress was cut off by Alexia, pulling you in her arms, but you can’t stop yourself. “I just, I should not be making everyone’s life harder,” your voice breaks and you clutch at your captain like your life depends on it.

The blonde gently caresses you back, shushing you and you feel yourself sink into her.

“Why are you apologizing? You have done nothing wrong, I promise you no one is mad at you, for anything. You’ve made us laugh so much in so little time, and we can see you’re working hard,” her voice is full of gentleness, and you can tell she really means it. She gently wipes away some of your tears with her sleeve.

“The cone!” you half sob on her shoulder.

A chuckle escaped Alexia’s lips and she slapped a hand on her mouth, you recoiled, audibly gasping and looking at her with wide eyes.

And the absurdity of the situation hit you like a freight train.

You were somewhere between a laugh and a cry now, “It’s not funny!” you whined, pushing her shoulder with your hand.

“Perdón, Cariño” the blonde chuckled, “It’s just, all this for a cone?”

You pouted, and the captain shook your shoulder slightly, giving them a squeeze.

“You’ve just been promoted to one of the best clubs in the world, you’re fitting in really well, you’ve got potential and Mapi is basically your mentor already, but you’re worried about one failed tackle?” she questioned with a smirk.

You hid your face in your hands. It seemed so stupid said like that, and you felt so embarrassed and vulnerable. Alexia got up, clutching your hand in hers to pull you with her.

“Come on, Diablilla, let’s go get changed before activation begins, sí? ” she awkwardly patted your head and started dragging you toward the locker room. “Oh and, I think Mapi is going to want to see your cardboard soon again, apparently she has many ideas for pictures” she said, her voice mixed with amusement and disapproval while you chuckled.

Alexia really did find you very endearing, and she knew the whole team felt the same way. They just needed to make you understand. It seemed really well timed when Mapi saw you walking in the tunnel and pulled you into her arms.

Her arms squish you into her body, and you give her a weak laugh. When Mapi pulls back and sees traces of tears on your face, she frowns. “¿Estás bien?” she asks you, her face full of concern.

“Better now,” you answer truthfully.

“Actually, Mapi,” you begin, “I wanted to say, thank you. For what you wrote, on the cardboard…You know.” you voice is low and when your eyes meet, you shy away.

When you look back to her though, she’s got a smile going up to her ears, her eyes sparkling. The brunette pinches your cheeks, surprising you.

“Well, look at you being all emotional?” Her voice is full of playfulness and you can tell she’s not going to spot annoying you.

“Mapi! Stop!” you squeal. You two bicker the whole way to the locker room, pushing each other.

She puts her arm over your shoulder and pinches the back of your neck with her thumb and index. “I’m just doing mentor duty, Cariño,” she smirks.

“You’re supposed to be the mature one!” you whine after she tickles you for the third time.

Alexia smiles profoundly seeing you two walking in front of her. You looked so shaken up when she had seen you on the field, she wasn’t sure anything she might tell you would help.

You made your way to the door entry, almost running to escape from Mapi’s rough love. You spotted Ingrid and ran to hide behind her.

“Ingrid! Mapi is annoying me!” you fake a pout.

The Norwegian looks surprised at the forward love you show both Mapi and her. But still, she plays into your game, throwing her arms up to take a more protective role.

“María, leave Skrulla alone.” she says sternly.

Mapi sighs, giving up and going to her place, grumbling bad words at the both of you. You just stick your tongue out at the tattooed woman, earning yourself a disapproving look from Irene. But Vicky’s voice shoots up before you can say anything else.

“Oh Mapi, looks like you’re going to sleep on the couch because of the new kid!” Her voice is teasing, making the whole team bark out a laugh.

You made your way to your locker, still snickering from the scene that had just happened. It felt a bit crazy to you, the way your teammates had managed to get you to calm down from your self deprecating state so quickly. Normally, it would take you days of very rough training to get over a mistake like the one you had done yesterday. Yet, Alexia alone had managed to take so much of the weight off of your shoulders. If the captain of the team, one of the most hardworking people you knew, did not see any trouble with what happened yesterday, then you’d trust her.

You reached for your locker, wanting to get changed in some jogging before going to the activation session, as you won’t be playing football. They mainly consisted of cardio and active stretches.

As you turned the lock open, an avalanche of neon orange and yellow fell in your arms. What felt like close to one hundred cones were spilling from your locker, getting everywhere on you and bouncing off the floor as you tried to catch them.

The whole team laughs as you turn around, mouth wide open and still clutching some of the cones against yourself.

“WHO?!” you scream, still shocked.

“Thought you needed extra tackling practice!” Pina manages to say in between wheezes which sends the team crackling even more. You can feel your cheeks heat up.

“That’s karma for making Ingrid tell off Mapi,” Jana adds, not helping your case.

Then it’s Ona who chimes in, “Looks like Diablilla got tricked,” but you hardly hear them, your eyes get caught into Pina's eyes and she bolts.

“She’s so dead!” you yell as you start chasing Pina, who runs away, still clutching at her ribs from laughing too much.

Pina almost manages to run away until she reaches a dead end in the maze of hallways the stadium is. Instead of letting herself be caught, she simply traces back her steps, feinting you so you can’t trap her, and making a beeline for the locker room, again. You chase her, smirking when you realize her mistake, in the locker room, you’ll be able to trap her.

When Pina bursts through the door of the room where most of your teammates are, quickly followed by yourself, you can hear Caro and Irene telling the both of you off.

But your brain doesn’t register it, you’re too focused on wanting to catch the forward. Pina had spotted Alexia and decided to mirror the situation you were previously in with Mapi and Ingrid, except she literally gripped Alexia and threw her at you, using her like some kind of shield. The look on your captain face is laughable, a mix of shock and bewilderment

“¡Madre mía! Pina, Y/n, Para!” the blonde screams in frustration, trying to separate you like two children fighting.

Except the harsh scolding is enough to distract Pina, giving you time to throw yourself at her, wrestling her to the floor.

Neon colors near you grab your attention, so you pick up one of the flat disks and drop it on top of Pina’s head.

“You got cone-ed!” you squeal, your body vibrating with laughter. You step back and look around the room, everybody is wheezing at your banter. Mapi is absolutely dying from the look on Alexia’s face (who still hasn’t recovered from Pina almost sacrificing her to save her skin) and you’re sure the tattooed woman will never let the captain forget.

Salma and Vicky are snickering while filming the both of you. You’re certain it’s going to be posted on the official fcb account, but you’re laughing so much you can’t bring yourself to be bothered.

Irene shakes her head, “Dios Mío, these kids are more tiring than Mateo.” But the smile tugging at her lips tells you she doesn’t really mean it.

“So, you are all going to inhale for 5 seconds, hold it in for 5 seconds, and then exhale for 5 seconds, we’re going to do it together. Remember to keep your eyes closed.” The yoga teacher said with what she probably thought was a soothing voice.

Apparently, in the weekly recovery session, yoga classes were mandatory. They happened after the activation training, which the coaches probably hoped would help the team settle before yoga. You had gotten through the actual yoga positions well enough. But they were followed by a few minutes of meditation, much to your dismay. Staying still and keeping your mouth close was not something you had ever been good at. Especially not while trying to “clear your thoughts away”. You were sitting in the lotus position, looking around, fully aware you were disrespecting what the instructor had said mere seconds ago.

You audibly sighed when you realized all the women had their eyes closed, deeply uninterested in doing anything else than the breathing exercise. Unfortunately for you, your sigh was heard by Alexia, who opened one eye to shoot daggers at you. You quickly turned your head and shut your eyes. You’d have never guessed the Catalan woman to be so into meditation.

“We’ll redo the same thing, but now, you are going to release all the tension in your body when you exhale,” the teacher continued to dictate.

The collective noise of inhaling was loud in the room full of tranquility.

Suddenly, a piercing screech broke the peacefulness.

“AAAAAAAAAH” you just couldn’t help it, the tension had escaped your body, without meaning to, in a very dramatic way. You froze, not daring to open your eyes and the whole team stilled.

“What was that?!” Mapi exclaimed herself, her voice breaking the silence quickly followed by a snort.

“Did someone just exorcise a demon?” Jana said, faking being scared.

“Someone isn’t feeling very zen,” said Ingrid with an amused voice as she elbowed you in the ribs barely holding in her laughter.

You opened your eyes to see the whole team staring at you, the teacher looked bewildered. You felt yourself sink in the mushy mat, “I didn’t mean to!” you mumbled weakly.

“It’s called the scream it out method! Very trendy,” Pina said, leaning against Patri stile cracking up and you shot her a glare. She was pushing her luck today, and the smirk she gave you confirmed it. The prank war was on.

Even Alexia couldn’t help herself, “That’s certainly not in a yoga manual.”

You let yourself flop back on the mat as you heavily groaned.

“Though I’m sure the tension did leave her body,” replied Frido. You stared at her trying to look annoyed, but the Swedish woman just shrugged, still laughing.

Mapi had apparently managed to calm herself. She had gotten up to plop down next to you. Her eyes were mischievous when said “Why would you just release tension when you can traumatize the entire team by screaming?” and even you couldn’t hold back a chuckle with how proud she looked about her joke.

The “traumatized” team seemed in a very nice mood, all cracking up more as the team continued to pile their jokes on you. You covered your face with your hand, still slightly embarrassed but the chuckle of the whole team made you feel better.

Alexia got up, clapping to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, we’ll stretch out a bit more and then we’re done for the day. And no more screaming, Cariño” she said with a stare. You nodded, giving her an embarrassed smile.

“Wait, that’s all she gets? Last time I did something like that, you made me run 10 laps!” Pina added, looking astonished.

“Only one of us can be the favourite!” you replied. Irene, who was walking behind you, gave you a soft tap on the back of the head making you wince.

“That’s child abuse,” you deadpanned and Irene choked back a snort, giving you a judgmental look.

Mapi and you were exchanging about various defending strategies while you rolled your calves on the foam, frowning when it hit a particular tense spot. The Spaniard was leaning into Ingrid while the Norwegian was chatting with Frido.

The team was scattered into multiple different friend groups and you couldn’t quite believe you had lucked out in the middle of defender heaven. You would have spent more time fangirling about it in your head if you hadn’t been struck with the smartest plan ever.

You knew you wanted to take vengeance for Pina’s prank, but Alexia and Irene, as good captains, were keeping a close eye on you, apparently feeling your prankster aura. But they underestimated your brain, and what you were capable of, really. What was better than being able to mess with someone without them knowing you’d be the one doing it? Ok, tackling an opponent was better. But still, your idea was pretty cool.

A mischievous smile took over your lips as you opened your phone, logging into your fan account to start editing a meme. Once satisfied, you set a timer so it would publish in 10 minutes.

You raised your eyes from the screen to see Mapi staring at you, she was squinting and her head was tilted.

“What is our little Diablilla planning again?” she said with a smirk, loud enough for the two Scandinavians to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re imagining things, Mapi.” you tried to secure your voice as much as possible. You realized using the fan account and posting while surrounded by the team was risky. But you knew nobody has seen you, and with the delayed post? They wouldn’t figure it out. So you placed your phone on the ground, and joined Frido’s and Ingrid’s conversation. You knew both women (all three of them, really) loved coffee, so you couldn’t help yourself when you heard they were speaking about coffee shops.

“Oh! Do you guys know that one place around the corner? I used to go there before practice when I was at La Masia,” you started rambling.

It didn’t seem to bother them though, instead, the women were listening attentively to your story about what you called “the best coffee in the world”. They were so interested in fact, that you all decided you’d go there together tomorrow, and you couldn’t hide the gigantic smile on your face.

The coffee talk was interrupted by Frido’s phone pinging, she picked up the phone, eyes sparkling with interest.

“New post from the TacklerCulers account!” she announced and Ingrid quickly leaned over her shoulder to be able to see the screen.

tacklerculers

posted 36 seconds ago… liked by 259 others.

TacklerCulers: Everybody hold their boots! Pinagoal or, should I say, Spongeboal?

Both women burst out laughing and threw the phone at Mapi so the both of you could have a look too.

“You have to see this!” Ingrid had blurted out between chuckles.

Mapi had looked at them with a curious expression, until her face had changed into one of pure happiness, her eyes crinkling.

“Pina! You’ve been turned into a meme now!” Mapi called out, making the small spanish come running toward you. You gave a knowing chuckle. God, this was even better than you had planned.

“…I don’t know if I should be flattered or annoyed?” she said after being blessed by the sight of that meme.

“Definitely flattered,” you said as innocently as possible, “This is a work of art.”

“This feels like a hate crime.” she shot back, frowning at you.

Frido is laughing harder when she chimes in “It’s already trending, wait till people start showing up to matches with posters of this.” Her statement made Pina frown, putting her hand on her forehead dramatically.

“Actually Pina, that’s really what you looked like,” you add quickly with a smirk.

“Who even runs this account?” the forward shriek, and her eyes narrow at you.

“I’m not brilliant enough I fear,” you reply trying to seem sincere, but you can’t help feeling a cold sweat running down your neck, making the hair stand up, alert.

A few other players had seen the commotion and had come to check it out, eyes full of curiosity. Patri was laughing hard when Frido had tilted the phone to show her.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” she observed.

“I hate you all.” Pina blurted out, sending the whole group gasping for air.

You clutch at your belly from how painful it is to laugh so much. You’re not even trying to hide the fact you’re full on snorting in a loud, uncontrollable way. The joy is warm in your body, filling it delightfully. You’re overwhelmed by a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt in a while, and maybe everything would be ok, after all.

[fkinkindagauche]

Some Unrighteous Intention

Also on AO3.

A/N: I needed to write something fun and silly because I was getting a little stuck with the long fic I'm working on. @dame-zoom-a-lot came through with a delightful prompt for the "Fruit" square on my @steddiebingo card - "5 times when Eddie gets distracted by Steve's mouth around fruit (or vice versa) and 1 time when Steve finally forces Eddie to do something about it". If you're looking for something else to read that's fun and tongue-in-cheek, try Zooms' fic May He Reign.

The title is from "Nature Boy" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,679 Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Season/Series 04, Gay Disaster Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Getting Together, First Kiss, Heavily Sexualized Fruit, but no fruit actually involved in the sex

Summary:

Eddie regretted every choice he’d made that had brought him to this point. He wasn’t a man prone to regret. Not even the prolonged hospitalization and recurrent nightmares following Vecna had been enough to make him regret meeting and becoming enmeshed with the Party. But this. This was too far. He regretted it now. Because Steve Harrington was eating a strawberry. A wanton, juicy strawberry. His nimble fingers gripped the leaves and held the plump, red fruit against his parted lips. Lips stained red with the juice of the lucky fruits before this one. Lips Eddie had never particularly noticed before this very moment. Lips he now needed to feel against his own. Lips he knew he’d never be able to feel against his own. ================= OR, Steve terrorizes Eddie all summer by eating very sexy fruit very sexily.

Eddie regretted every choice he’d made that had brought him to this point. He wasn’t a man prone to regret. Not even the prolonged hospitalization and recurrent nightmares following Vecna had been enough to make him regret meeting and becoming enmeshed with the Party. But this. This was too far. He regretted it now.

Because Steve Harrington was eating a strawberry.

A wanton, juicy strawberry. His nimble fingers gripped the leaves and held the plump, red fruit against his parted lips. Lips stained red with the juice of the lucky fruits before this one. Lips Eddie had never particularly noticed before this very moment. Lips he now needed to feel against his own. Lips he knew he’d never be able to feel against his own.

Steve made an obscene slurping noise as he attempted to keep some rogue juice in his mouth. He failed, and it escaped, trickling down the perfect line of his throat.

A strangled wheezing noise emerged from Eddie’s throat.

“Dude, are you okay?” Steve asked, speaking around a mouthful of strawberry.

Eddie nodded, unable to form words.

Steve swallowed the bite and threw the stem to the side. “Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

Eddie stood up suddenly from the ground and fled.

“Where are you going?” Robin grumbled as he nearly tripped over her foot.

“Gotta piss!” he managed to spit out through his extreme mortification.

“Robin, is there something on my face?” he heard Steve demand as he hurried away.

Eddie didn’t hear Robin’s response. He hurried off into the woods and leaned against a tree, attempting to calm down a very unruly portion of his anatomy. One that had, in fact, never reacted to Steve Harrington before.

He should never have come on this picnic. He hated the sun and the outdoors. Why had he let Robin talk him into it? This was a disaster. A catastrophe of epic proportions. He had a boner for Steve Harrington because of strawberries.

Steve probably didn’t even swing that way. (Well, Eddie’d had his suspicions during the Hargrove days, there had been some serious homoerotic tension there, but Steve had only ever dated women.) But even if he did, he was Steve! Muscular jock golden retriever boy! He wasn’t for the likes of Eddie Munson, freak of nature, deranged pitbull mutt boy.

Eddie took a few deep, cleansing breaths. He thought about his Aunt Muriel. That took his boner right out.

When he returned to the group, the strawberries were finished, and he could look at Steve again without carnal thoughts. Just a strange blip. Maybe he was attracted to the strawberries. He could handle that.

Eddie tried to forget about it, he really did. But he couldn’t look at Steve the same after that day. Every time Steve talked, Eddie’s eyes drifted to his lips and remembered the strawberry. He routinely got so distracted that he had to ask Steve to repeat himself. Steve was starting to get annoyed.

He noticed other things about Steve, too. The way he laughed when Robin or Eddie said something really funny, throwing back his head and cackling. The way he let Henderson and the other brats walk all over him, and always looked out for them, no matter how much he complained. The way he filled out his jeans so nicely, front and back.

Eddie couldn’t keep denying it – he had a crush on Steve Harrington.

The others had definitely noticed that something was up. He caught Robin squinting at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Nancy had smirked at him when she caught him staring at Steve at their last game night. Even Steve was giving him questioning looks.

“What are those?” Eddie demanded, pointing at a bowl full of what looked like large orange grapes. He was at Steve’s house, raiding his well-stocked kitchen before he picked up the kids for a D&D session.

Steve glanced over from where he was cooking something that smelled delicious (the man was a fucking cook, how was Eddie supposed to resist this?). “Oh. Those are kumquats.”

Eddie spat out the mouthful of Mountain Dew he’d just gulped down. “Excuse me?” Surely he hadn’t heard that right. Who would name a fruit so obscenely?

Steve gave him a weird look. “They’re little citrus fruits. You can just pop the whole thing in your mouth. Like this, see.” He grabbed one of them and shoved it into his mouth. His beautiful, pink mouth. With its moist lips. Just stuffing them full of jizz fruits.

“What?” Steve asked, mouth full of quats of the cum. His forehead was wrinkled in an unfairly adorable squint.

“That is a ridiculous name for a fruit,” Eddie managed to stammer.

“Oooh, I get it.” Steve’s face cleared. “Because of cum. Like, semen.”

“Yeah, Steve. Because of that.”

“I don’t think it’s named after that, though. They don’t taste anything like jizz. Here.” He pushed one into Eddie’s mouth, which had been stunned into opening by the idea that Steve Harrington knew what jizz tasted like.

Eddie chewed automatically. The taste was sweet at first, followed by a tartness once he bit through the skin. It was nice. And, yes, nothing like jizz.

“Like it?” Steve asked with a quizzical look. His thumb still rested on the edge of Eddie’s lips. Eddie wanted to bite it. He wanted to suck it into his mouth and taste the kumquat juices and Steve’s skin.

He stepped back instead, breaking the contact. “I need to be gone,” Eddie said with a slightly hysterical lilt to his voice.

“Dude, your bag!” Steve called after him. Eddie didn’t care. He ran.

“Jeff. I am telling you this in the strictest confidence. You must take it to your grave. No one can ever know.”

Eddie lay on his bed with an arm thrown melodramatically across his face as Jeff idly plucked at his guitar.

“Alright,” Jeff replied. He didn’t even sound interested. Rude. Although Eddie was pretty sure he’d used those exact words on Jeff at least ten times before, often about pretty trivial things, so he couldn’t totally be blamed for his lack of interest.

“I think I have a crush on Steve Harrington,” Eddie admitted with a moan.

“Oh. Well, yeah.”

Eddie moved his arm and sat up to glare at Jeff. “What do you mean, ‘well, yeah’? That’s all you have to say about this earth-shattering admission?”

“Eddie, it’s kind of obvious. You stare at him with heart eyes every time he comes to watch us practice. Even Gareth figured it out.”

Eddie threw a pillow at him. “You knew?” His outrage immediately turned to horror. “Do you think Steve knows?” Eddie collapsed onto the bed, arm back across his face. “Oh my god, what if Steve knows?”

Jeff patted him consolingly on the knee. “He probably doesn’t.”  That wasn’t very convincing.

“Why is this happening to me?” Eddie groaned. “I think I’m just gonna have to avoid him forever.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult. Considering we’re all going to Henderson’s birthday cookout at his pool in half an hour.”

“I’m not going,” Eddie announced.

“You have to. Dustin will be devastated if you don’t go. You wanna make that kid cry? You feel like explaining that to Mrs. Henderson?”

Eddie shuddered. The only thing scarier than seeing Steve Harrington right now was the thought of triggering Claudia Henderson’s protective maternal instincts.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie pushed himself up off the bed with a groan. “I can do this. I can be normal. As long as he doesn’t pull out any more cum nuggets.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The party was in full swing by the time Jeff and Eddie arrived. He scanned the raucous group in the pool, definitely not looking for Steve. He found Steve at the grill, cooking burgers without a shirt on. All that beautiful chest hair. All those delightful moles. On full display. It was upsetting.

Eddie collapsed in a chair next to Robin with a disgruntled huff.

“What’s got your goat today, Munson?” Robin asked.

Eddie sighed dejectedly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Robin didn’t sound convinced.

Eddie did his best to ignore Steve’s manly physique and enjoy himself. It worked, sort of. At first. But then Steve made it incredibly difficult when he came to join the vigorous rough-housing going on in the pool. He kept touching Eddie. Like he had no idea what he was doing to him. He tickled him, he put him in a headlock, he grabbed him around the waist and dunked him underwater. Eddie had to put off getting out of the pool to pee for nearly fifteen minutes to avoid showing everyone the raging boner in his wet swim trunks.

Just when he thought things surely could not get any worse, the watermelon came out. Nancy had sliced a watermelon into wedges, and Steve dove right the fuck in. Eddie sat across the table from him and watched as Steve opened his mouth inhumanly wide to take a gigantic bite. Juice spilled out of his mouth and over his cheeks, running down his chin. He looked up and locked eyes with Eddie as he licked his lips, then took another bite. He held Eddie’s gaze as he spat the seeds out into a strategically placed bowl. One after another. His lips forming a perfect pucker with each spit.

Eddie wanted to lick the sticky juice off his face and neck and chest. He wanted Steve to spit at him. He’d never had a spit kink before. Where was this coming from?

Eddie stood up from the table abruptly, upending his chair, and ran into the house.

He locked himself into the bathroom and immediately plunged a hand into his swim trunks to wrap around his aching cock. He felt guilty for beating off in his friend’s bathroom, for beating off to thoughts of that same friend. But he’d been hard for the entire afternoon. He needed some relief or he was truly going to expire.

He used the precum leaking from his tip to smooth the glide as he stroked himself. He thought of Steve’s lips, covered in watermelon, covered in strawberry juice. He thought of the shape of them as he spit. As he bit down on a kumquat. He came with a groan, inhumanly fast, as he remembered that Steve knew what jizz tasted like.

Just as he finished washing his hands, a knock sounded at the door.

“Eddie, you alright?” Steve asked through the door.

Oh, this was too much. Surely Eddie could not be expected to just go out there and act normal around Steve right now.

“No, not alright at all. I’m having explosive diarrhea and vomiting and also bleeding out my ears, you should probably stay away.”

“Um. Shouldn’t you go to the hospital or something, if all that’s going on?”

“No. It’ll pass if you leave me alone. Go away.”

“Alright.” Steve sounded like he was holding back a laugh. The blackguard. A laugh, at Eddie’s made-up intense illness.

But thankfully he left Eddie alone, to slink out of the house in embarrassed confusion, leaving behind a very pissed off Jeff without a ride home.

The summer wore on, and Eddie’s crush unfortunately didn’t let up. He kept telling himself he was going to avoid Steve, but he never held himself to it. He spent a lot of time at Family Video bothering Steve and Robin during their shifts, enjoying the air conditioning.

That’s where he was one night in late July when Claudia Henderson dropped off a whole bag of fresh-picked peaches. Eddie stared in horror as Steve made a pleased noise and reached into the bag.

“I love peaches!” Steve crooned. “You like them, Eddie?” Steve held a peach out to Eddie, who took it on instinct. The fuzz felt soft against his hand. He squeezed lightly, enjoying the slight give indicating ripeness.

Eddie looked up into Steve’s glorious, shining face. Robin was somewhere deep among the aisles sorting tapes, so Eddie was alone with Steve. And peaches. Arguably the sexiest fruit. He was in deep shit. Eddie didn’t know if he was going to survive this. It might be what finally did him in.

Steve grinned at Eddie. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he would say Steve looked downright devious. But no. Steve was just pleased to have some peaches.

Steve raised a peach to his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked delicately at the fuzz. (Who licked the outside of a peach?) The depression in the side of the peach was facing Eddie.

Suddenly, all Eddie could think of were butts. Well, one butt in particular. A singular butt. Steve’s butt. How much he’d like to grab handfuls of that butt and squeeze, just like he squeezed the peach. He would lick the fuzz on Steve’s butt. Bite into those ripe globes.

Eddie was well aware that he was already breathing heavily. Steve opened his mouth, looking at Eddie the whole time, and bit into the peach. His eyes fluttered shut as the juices flooded his mouth, some trickling out the sides and down his chin. He made an obscene noise that could only be described as a moan. He opened his eyes again and stared at Eddie as his tongue darted out to lick the juice off his chin. Then he closed his mouth around the flesh of the peach again and sucked.

Eddie’s breath came rushing out with a sound like a deflating balloon. Steve ignored the noise. He took several more bites of his peach, just as wantonly as the first. There was juice all over his face, running down his chin onto his neck, pooling in the divot between his collar bones. Eddie twitched, using every muscle in his body to avoid throwing himself forward and licking up that pool.

Steve finished the peach in several more large bites. Eddie watched the whole thing, unable or unwilling to look away. Steve stuck the pit in his mouth and sucked on it hard.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” Robin asked from directly behind Eddie.

Eddie startled, letting out a little scream and falling off of the stool he’d been sitting on.

“Just eating a peach,” Steve said, all innocence. “Eddie, you didn’t even try yours.”

Eddie lay prostrate on the ground. He thought maybe he would never get up. Maybe he’d just die here, all the blood sucked from his brain by the raging hard-on he’d gotten from watching his friend eat a peach.

Robin poked him with her shoe. “Are you alright, Eddie?”

“No,” Eddie breathed. Robin stared at him. Steve poked his head over the side of the counter, face still covered in peach juice. Eddie closed his eyes against the sight. “I think I’m allergic to peaches,” he continued, pushing himself up off the floor. “I need to leave. Just the smell is making my airways close up.”

“You ate peaches last week.”

“Delayed hypersensitivity reaction. Gotta go. Bye.” He hustled for the door.

“Steve, that was disgusting. You’re ridiculous,” he heard Robin say as he let the door closed behind him.

August was fucking hot. The hottest on record. Though he’d vowed to avoid Steve at all costs after the peach incident, that had only lasted until the temperatures veered into the 90’s. After that, Eddie spent most of his free time at the Harrington house, availing himself of the air conditioning and pool.

It was too hot to even lay in the pool today. Even the air conditioning was barely cutting it. They lay on the floor in front of a fan in only their boxers. He had been too weak with heatstroke to even protest the disrobing, though not too weak to appreciate Steve’s chest hair. He flipped idly through a copy of Rolling Stone, trying to keep his eyes off of Steve’s tits, while Steve threw a baseball into the air over and over.  Thwack. Thwack.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably. “Do you have any, like, ice cream or anything? Popsicles? Something cold?”

Steve hummed to himself. “I don’t think so.”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Steve sat upright, stilling the baseball. “Wait! I have something.”

He stood and walked much too fast to the kitchen. It made Eddie sweat just to watch him move.

Eddie’s stomach dropped in sheer terror as he saw what Steve held in his hands as he returned – a banana. No. Not that. Anything but the banana. Eddie could survive all the other fruits, but not the banana.

Steve had a wicked grin on his face. Like he knew. He couldn’t know. Right? Absolutely not.

“They’re a bitch to peel when they’re frozen, but it’s basically like a popsicle.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s deft fingers grasped the base of the banana. He slid his hand up and down.

“Feels kind of nice,” Steve said. “Cold.” He twisted his hand in an absolutely obscene motion and hummed to himself. Eddie dropped the magazine down to his lap, hiding a situation that was becoming more embarrassing by the second.

Steve poked at the tip of the banana until it started to peel. He drew the ice-hardened peel away from the fruit, leaving a solid pale yellow rod directly in front of his mouth. He looked Eddie dead in the eye as he opened his lips and slowly slid the banana in.

He hollowed out his cheeks, sucking on it in a way Eddie had never seen someone do to a banana. He moved it in and out, bobbing his head on the banana.

“It’s cold,” he mumbled around the shaft – no, the banana! Bananas didn’t have shafts. “Feels good on my lips.” He pulled the banana all the way out and licked gently at the tip. “You ever sucked on a frozen banana?” he asked. Okay, Eddie was almost positive now that Steve wasn’t still talking about bananas. Eddie must have passed out from heatstroke. That was the only logical conclusion.

“Eddie?” Steve prompted. “You like bananas, right?”

Again, there was a whole fucking undercurrent to that question.

“Bananas are… good,” Eddie whispered.

Steve’s grin lit up the whole room. “Good. Glad we agree about bananas.” He sat on the floor beside Eddie and slid the banana back in his mouth. Eddie didn’t know where to look – at the sweat beading gloriously on Steve’s perfect hairy pecs, at his lips sealed around the frozen banana, at his intense brown eyes boring holes straight into Eddie’s soul.

Steve pulled the banana out of his mouth, a string of spit connecting it to his lips for a few moments before it broke. He held out the banana to Eddie.

“You wanna try?” he whispered. He was so close Eddie could feel the gust of his breath with each word.

The door banged open. Eddie screamed and scrambled away from Steve.

“Dingus!” Robin yelled from the foyer.

Eddie took the cowardly out. He stood up and ran to the door, leaving his shirt and pants in Steve’s living room. He paused only to slip on his flip-flops and grab his keys.

“Munson, what the hell!” Robin yelled as he shoved his way past her.

As he started up his van, he heard Robin scream, “A banana, Steve?! Jesus Christ.”

Eddie avoided Steve for a few weeks after the banana. He was a little disappointed that Steve let himself be avoided, but he tried not to dwell on it.

The heat finally broke in the last week of August. Eddie tentatively started hanging out with Steve again. No fruits were bandied about.

Eddie should have been relieved. He wasn’t sure his heart could handle another fruit-related incident with Steve. It might just burst like an overwrought rabbit’s heart. But he thought Steve had been trying to tell him something with that banana. Maybe? As the weeks ticked by with no more hints, he decided he was probably just reading too much into it.

So when the offer to go apple picking with the whole group came in early September, he didn’t automatically excuse himself like he would have in the days following the banana incident. Apples weren’t even sexy. They were a thoroughly unsexy fruit. And they’d be outside, with loads of other people around. It would be fine.

It wasn’t fine.

Every time Steve reached for an apple, his adorable sweater rode up, revealing a patch of tummy with a glorious little happy trail disappearing beneath his jeans. Jeans that were tight enough to remind Eddie, once again, that Steve was very well-endowed.

And Steve kept picking the highest apples in the trees. Like he was doing it on purpose. After grabbing a particularly juicy-looking specimen from on high, Steve brought it to his mouth and bit into it. Eddie realized he’d been dead wrong. Apples were sexy, when they were in the hands of Steve.

Steve sucked at the apple where he’d bit as juice spilled out. The way he pursed his lips was obscene. He licked the skin around his bite, cleaning up the errant juice, then licked his lips. Eddie wondered, if he covered himself in apple juice, would Steve lick him like that?

To preserve his poor rabbit-like heart, Eddie fled to another row of trees.

He successfully avoided Steve and his tummy and his apple-licking for the rest of the picking excursion. He was ready to jump into his van and flee after Nancy dropped them all off at Steve’s, but Steve pinned him with a pleading stare and asked, “Eddie, will you help me bring all the apples in?”

It was like being asked to play fetch by an adorable golden retriever. Eddie couldn’t say no. He wasn’t heartless. (Though he might be, soon, if Steve made his heart explode.)

“Alright,” Eddie said, his voice cracking. He grabbed one of the bags and walked straight to Steve’s kitchen, setting it down.

“There you go!” Eddie said. “See ya later.” He turned to leave. Steve stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’m making pies. I could really use some help peeling and coring.” There was that pleading look again. Eddie was hopeless. He was lost. He was done for.

“Okay.”

He sat at the table like a man sitting down to his last meal before the electric chair. Steve handed him a paring knife. Eddie set to work peeling apples, doing his best to pretend Steve wasn’t even there – an almost impossible task, given Steve’s constant fidgeting. He wasn’t usually a fidgeter, that was more Eddie’s deal, but today he was wiggling in his chair like he had an itchy hemorrhoid.

“Dude, are you okay?” Eddie asked after Steve accidentally elbowed him in the arm for the fourth time. This time, Eddie had narrowly avoided gouging himself in the opposite hand with his knife.

“What? Yeah. ‘m fine.”

Eddie shifted his chair to move a few feet away from Steve. “Alright. Just gonna get out of the elbow zone then.”

Steve looked up from his apple and pouted. There was no other word for what happened to his face. It was a full-on pout. His lips turned down in a frown and his lower lip wobbled as his eyes got comically large and sad.

Guilt flooded Eddie’s system. “I can’t stay there! You’re going to make me knife myself!”

Steve schooled his features into a look of determination, picked up a slice of apple, and slowly and deliberately brought it to his mouth. He opened his lips wide, giving Eddie a thorough view of the soft pink inside of his mouth. He licked the apple slice, running his tongue along one surface, then along the opposite side. He closed his lips around it then slid it inside. All while maintaining direct eye contact with Eddie.

This was it. This was the moment Eddie was going to die. Slumped on the floor of the Harrington kitchen with a burst heart and a hard dick.

“I- I should go,” Eddie stammered, wanting to put off his inevitable demise just a little longer.

“No.”

The word was a command. Eddie froze halfway through pushing himself up out of his chair.

“Are you just not into me?” Steve demanded. “I know you’re gay, and I got the impression you maybe had a crush on me, so I thought I had a chance. But now I’m not so sure.”

Eddie thought he may have had a stroke. The words coming out of Steve’s mouth were English, and they theoretically made sense together, but Eddie couldn’t parse them.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention all summer,” Steve continued. “I’ve been so obvious that even Dustin caught on. I gave up after the banana thing because Robin told me I was being ridiculous and scaring you away. But I don’t know how else to do it.”

“What?” Eddie croaked.

Steve tilted his head to the side. He popped another apple slice into his mouth and chewed. Eddie watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and thought more devious thoughts. “Wait, have you really not noticed?” Steve asked. “That I’ve been coming onto you this whole time?”

“You’ve been what?” Eddie replayed the various fruit-related incidents in his mind. He’d thought Steve was just like that – unknowingly sultry and flirtatious, an unaware wet dream of a man.

“Ever since I saw the way you looked at me with the strawberries. And, okay, I can understand how you might not have seen through the kumquats or the watermelon. But the peach? The banana? Come on, Eddie.”

“You were… hitting on me?” Eddie felt he needed to clarify. This needed to be explicitly stated for him.

“Think of it more as a temptation. But, yeah, with the eventual end goal of fucking you. Or being fucked by you. I’d go either way, long as it was with you.”

Eddie swayed to the side. He looked around the room to see if the others were all there, waiting to see how Eddie took the prank. He swayed so far to the side that he fell out of his chair.

“Fuck!” he yelped as his elbow and hip connected with the hard tile floor.

“Whoa, shit.” Steve knelt down beside him, a hand coming to his head to keep it from hitting the floor. “You okay?”

Steve’s hand was warm against his cheek. He moved it back, threading fingers into Eddie’s hair, then tilted Eddie’s head back so he could look into his face.

“You hurt?” Steve prompted again when Eddie stayed silent.

Eddie shook his head. His heart beat rapidly against his sternum. Could a rabbit’s heart burst from pure horniness? He hadn’t ever heard of that, just the fear thing, but it seemed theoretically possible.

“Can you tell me?” Steve whispered. “Did you really not know?”

Eddie shook his head again. “I didn’t,” he whispered back.

“And now that you do?”

Eddie gathered up all the courage in his little rabbity heart and surged forward. He grabbed two handfuls of Steve’s adorable sweater and yanked him close, pressing their lips together. A startled noise emerged from Steve’s lips as he froze for a moment, and Eddie wondered if he’d just imagined the whole conversation leading up to this point, but then Steve relaxed against him, and joined in the kiss as an active participant.

Steve’s lips tasted of apples. Eddie licked against them, savoring the taste. Steve opened his mouth and wound an arm around Eddie’s waist. Eddie pressed his tongue in as the apple flavor flooded his senses. He could smell it, and taste it, a tart sweetness exploding on his tongue.

Steve moaned and pressed Eddie back until he was laying on the floor with Steve draped half on top of him. It should have been uncomfortable, but Eddie just wanted more. Steve slid a leg between Eddie’s own. Eddie instinctively ground down against it, rutting his hard and aching cock against Steve’s muscular thigh.

Steve’s mouth moved from Eddie’s lips to his jawline and kissed the soft skin below his earlobe. He pulled Eddie’s earlobe into his mouth like a piece of fruit and bit down gently. Eddie moaned and ground his cock down harder on Steve’s thigh.

“Been waiting for this for so long,” Steve whispered, his breath tickling Eddie’s ear. Eddie laughed, an incredulous, shaky thing.

“You’ve been waiting for this? I’ve been dealing with inappropriate boners all summer.”

Steve sighed. “Should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Eddie agreed vehemently.

Eddie shifted so he could also get a thigh between Steve’s legs. He’d been thoroughly convinced of Steve’s attraction by now, but it was still shocking to feel Steve’s hard cock against his thigh. Eddie pressed his thigh up, drawing a shocked groan out of Steve. He swiveled his hips to rub his own cock harder against Steve.

Steve moved his mouth to the pulse point in Eddie’s neck. He licked over it, just like he’d licked the apple, and the banana, and the peach. He scraped his teeth against the delicate skin. He bit down lightly and sucked. It hurt in the best possible way.

Eddie’s hips began to move in a rhythm, rutting against Steve’s leg and letting his own thigh be used. Steve panted against his neck and reached a hand between them and thumbed at the button of Eddie’s jeans. “Want to feel you,” he muttered, his face hidden in Eddie’s neck. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Eddie whispered, barely more than an exhalation.

Steve deftly opened his jeans, with a dexterity that only a sexually experienced jock could manage. He slid his hand into Eddie’s boxers and wrapped it around his dick.

It was truly a miracle that Eddie didn’t come right then and there. More miraculous then his recovery after being eaten alive by monstrous bat creatures. His body was a wonder. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“This okay?” Steve asked, finally removing his face from Eddie’s neck and looking at him. His cheeks were colored with a pretty blush, and his lips were red and kiss-swollen. Eddie wanted to see this look on Steve every day for the rest of his life.

Eddie nodded. He touched two fingers to Steve’s jeans with a question in his eyes. Steve nodded.

Eddie opened his jeans with a lot less savoir faire than Steve had displayed, but he hadn’t had nearly as much practice. When his palm made contact with the warm, velvety skin of Steve’s cock, he thought he may have actually died from the horniness heart burst. Maybe this was heaven.

The head of Steve’s cock was wet, much wetter than Eddie ever got. Eddie used the precum to smooth the glide of his hand, squeezing and twisting as he pumped Steve’s shaft. Steve’s own hand caught on Eddie’s cock, friction getting in the way. Steve let out a frustrated huff.

“Here, let’s try something,” Eddie mumbled. He removed his hand from Steve’s pants, earning himself a pathetic whimper that sent a thrill through his whole body. They’d definitely have to revisit that at a later time. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock, then shoved at Steve’s. Steve got the message, pulling his own down.

Eddie lined their cocks up side-by-side. His hand didn’t fit all the way around both of them, but Steve brought his hand down to join him. Together, they could envelop both cocks. Eddie began to move his hand, spreading Steve’s ample precum down both of their shafts. Steve moved with him.

The feeling of Steve’s cock pressed against his own was unlike anything Eddie had ever experienced. He’d seen people do this in gay porn he’d found in a sex shop in Indy, but had never tried it himself. The skin of Steve’s cock was so smooth and warm against his own.

Steve leaned his head back down to kiss Eddie. It was filthy and wet, Steve’s spit still laced with the taste of apples. Eddie was going to have a Pavlovian response to apples from here on out. Apples would be a danger to him.

The movement of their hands in tandem was awkward at first, but eventually they got into a rhythm. Steve’s mouth against his, Steve’s cock against his, Steve’s chest against his. Steve everywhere. Warmth pooled in Eddie’s pelvis. He didn’t even have time to warn Steve before an orgasm rushed over him. Wave after wave of pleasure crested through his body as he spilled into their joined hands.

Steve bit down on Eddie’s lower lip hard enough to hurt, as his hips stuttered and he joined Eddie in his release. They both kept moving, slowly and out of sync, as they came down from their orgasms.

Their foreheads pressed together. Steve panted into Eddie’s mouth, his eyes still closed. Eddie watched the movement of his eyes beneath the lids, darting back and forth. There was a mole on the bridge of his nose, just to the side of the corner of his eye. Eddie wanted to learn all of Steve’s moles. Wanted to have them memorized. Wanted to kiss each one.

Finally, Steve’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled at Eddie, shyly. Like he hadn’t spent the last four months terrorizing Eddie with sexualized fruit.

“So. That was nice,” Steve mumbled. He looked unsure of himself.

Eddie let out a high-pitched, deranged laugh. “Nice? Nice, he says. Stevie, that blew my fucking mind.”

Steve’s shy look turned into a wide grin as his blush deepened. “Yeah? You don’t regret it?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s chin with his hand and held his face still while he looked him in the eyes. “I have never regretted anything less.”

“Good,” Steve said with a sigh and a nod. “Great. You wanna go on a date sometime?”

“I’d love to. I hear there’s a really nice pumpkin patch in Fernville. We could broaden our horizons, switch to vegetables.”

Also on AO3.

All dividers by @/saradika-graphics, except the banana divider, which is by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[wonwoosthetic]

Hey author! Will you be continuing the NANA Tour series??

Yes, of course!! I know, I’m taking quite some time with it, but I sadly don’t have much time to watch the episodes one after the other, so it usually takes me a while to write them, especially bc I never know when enough is enough, so I also always write way too much😅, but I still love continuing it even now!😊🥰

series masterlist

word count – 12.5k

warnings – almost cursing haha

Go Together NANA Tour EP3-3. - EP3-4. 🌷 Minnie

[added captions are in brackets] ˙ᵕ˙

EP3.3 Nice to meet you, Salute!

After an exciting day, going well over the recommended 10k steps a day average, Jeognhan, Joshua, Minnie, and Vernon finally arrived back at the rented AirBnB. They had divided the bags filled with trinkets and clothing, as well as a few snacks, equally so that each one of them was carrying one back to the house. The sun had already started to set, draping the Italian countryside in a soft golden glow. While the day was slowly coming to an end, the temperature was still peaking high, explaining the exhaustion radiating off the group.

"Great job everyone," Jeonghan breathed out heavily. As enjoyable as the day was, they were happy to be back, re-joining the rest of the members as they walked onto the property.

Before they even reached the door, Seventeen's main producer was just coming from the other direction, presumably the garden, welcoming the four with a naked torso and sweatshorts.

"Oh, Woozi," the '95 Liner called out. "Did you have fun?" The younger three members huddled in with Vernon right behind him, followed by Minnie, then Joshua. The girl's eyes found the '96 Liner in a clearly very comfortable state of mind, chuckling at his choice of non-existing clothing.

"Ey," the younger rapper's voice rang through her ears as he stopped in his tracks, quickly turning around and raising a hand to cover the female member's eyes.

[Protecting innocent eyes]

His antic only made her laugh even louder, getting Jeonghan to stop and glance at the maknae duo.

Minnie slapped Vernon's hand away from her face with a whine and gave him a nudge, making him slightly stumble backwards, cackling to himself.

"What are you doing?" The oldest laughed out loud, joining Joshua, who was already amused at the two. The girl just shook her head and passed them to head towards the entry of the house.

[A loving bond between the youngsters]

Before they reached it, Jeonghan mentioned the Korean grocery store they had come across, explaining where they had gotten the groceries they were holding. The supermarket carried everything they could've asked for on the other side of the world - Ramen noodle packages, instant rice, they had even bought a good amount of Soju bottles, knowing these would go down like water with the rest of the members.

As soon as they got into the house, Minnie noticed how unusually quiet the place was.

"Where's everyone?"

Dokyeom, who was chilling in the living room on the other end of the room, perked his head up at the sound of the girl's voice.

"In their rooms. We're having a break."

Minnie chuckled, "A break from what?" Knowing they were on a vacation in general and finding humour in the term 'break' while not having to do or worry about anything at all. Her fellow '97 Liner shrugged as he walked up to her, reaching his hand out to take over the paper bag she was holding in her grip.

[A gentleman at heart]

"No, it's okay, I'm gonna take it downstairs," she brushed him off, wanting to rush into the kitchen while he continued to be hot on her tracks.

"I can help," he announced, but Minnie stopped him right before she headed down the steps.

"It's okay," smiling brightly up at him before noticing the oldest member, who had come to a halt closer towards the entrance. "Jeonghannie!" She called out to him, making him turn around. "Give me your bag!"

In a somewhat jog, he crossed the ground over to her and was about to hand over the other bag-

"Can you carry both of them?"

Getting a nod from her in return, but he shook his head and joined her on the steps. "It's okay, I'll go with you."

"But I can-"

"Go," he nudged her carefully to continue walking as they both disappeared onto the lower floor of the house.

[Minnie has a lot of helping hands]

In the kitchen, Joshua and Dokyeom joined the two, helping with unloading everything that was supposed to stay there before bringing the rest back upstairs. While some decided to go back into their individual rooms, Minnie was being kept in the living room, mostly due to the maknae who had found out his favourite noona arrived again.

"Noona!" Dino smiled brightly as soon as he found her silhouette coming up the stairs again.

[A little brother that has been desperately waiting for his favourite sister]

Planted in his seat, he opened his arms, waiting for her to come towards him. A grin had made its way onto her face, only widening with each step she took.

"How was the wine tasting?" She asked him. Partially theoretically with a hint of sarcasm, but also somewhat truly wondering about it. His cheery persona wasn't anything rare, yet she could tell by the still soft blush on his cheeks that the alcohol had not yet completely worn off the younger member.

She bent down, to wrap her arms around his muscular frame, chuckling as he tightened his grip before releasing her.

"Ah...," he sighed out loud. "It was... an experience." Minnie chuckled, watching the maknae smile to himself. She let her hand brush over the top of his blonde head of hair.

"Did you drink a lot?"

[Caring words of an older sister <3]

As soon as he glanced up, the girl snickered, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"Too much," he admitted, only getting her to laugh louder, Dokyeom and Joshua joining in as they walked into the living room, throwing themselves onto individual seats.

"We all took a nap afterwards. We had to," the maknae continued. "We also brought some of the wine. One is from 2015, our debut year."

"Aw, that's cute. Let's drink it later on," she stated, getting a soft groan from the youngest in return, making her giggle once again.

-

The group got a short, yet much needed, break from exploring Italy before they were asked to get into the bus that was waiting outside for them. Their packed timetable was still not coming to an end any time soon - the producers made sure they'd be using and enjoying every possible moment to the fullest.

Minnie had found her seat in the very back again with the window to her left and Vernon to her right. While they were putting on their seatbelts and sinking into the cushions, one of the female producers in the very front of the bust started to explain part of their schedule for the evening.

"Today is the last and peak day of the wine festival," she told the members. "You can compare it to Myeongdong Christmas day." Her explanation received a round of gasps from the group as they realised just how many people they were going to be met with once they arrived.

"Woah...," Minnie spoke quietly. "But how cool to have a wine festival in your city."

Vernon nodded next to her, meeting her eye as he spoke. "Imagine having a soju festival."

[Dreams of a true SEVENTEEN member]

His remark made the girl's eyes immediately widen in fear, changing to speak English,

"I wouldn't survive that... But I'd enjoy it." Her reaction got a chuckle out of the younger member as he nudged her side, shaking his head at her comment. "I'm serious!" She exclaimed, joining him with laughter as Joshua in the middle also started chuckling.

The bus set off, letting a rush of excitement rush through the members as they headed to the festival. Dokyeom celebrated by lifting up the phone in his hands, ready to take a picture of himself and everyone around him when he noticed the younger members behind him engulfed in a conversation.

"Can you please look up if you're gonna be in the picture?" His question caught the maknaes' attention as they perked their heads up, immediately smiling into the camera as if it was a reflex. Afterwards, everyone turned back to focus on themselves, most getting entertainment from their phones. Minnie used the time to send a quick text to the leader, forgetting about the time difference separating them.

"Vernonnie, Josh," she called out to get her fellow English-speaking members to glance at her. Minnie was already holding up her front camera, snapping a few pictures once they had looked her way.

"Who are they for?" Joshua wondered as he posed a few different ways before the girl took the phone back into both of her hands.

"My mum and the Chois," the female member automatically switched to their native tongue as he had done so as well.

Shua chuckled, "'The Chois-'"

"I don't know how else to say it," Minnie answered with a smile. "Eomma, Appa, Seungmin-, and Seungcheol-oppa. Better?"

"You really have a group chat with everyone, huh?" Vernon suddenly jumped in, his arms crossed while his head relaxed against the backrest.

With an excited nod, the girl answered. "With everyone that's important to me."

[A loving family person <3]

-

The drive was only a short 10 minutes long. The bus stopped right at the unofficial entrance of the festival, leaving the members to get off and explore the open space on their own. It was only then that they were able to come to face with the crowd that had already gathered.

Strutting by herself, Minnie was right behind Jun, who had gotten one of the many go-pros they should be carrying from the producers.

Their eyes fell over the area, looking around the different corners and everything the festival had to offer. A soft gasp from the female member made Jun turn around as he continued to walk.

"What?"

Not thinking, he would've heard her, Minnie looked up before glancing down again, taking the seam of her top between her fingers.

"I just realised, I probably shouldn't have worn white to a wine festival."

"Why?" He wondered, slowing down in his steps to let her catch up with him.

"It's really hard to get red wine out of clothing."

The '96 Liner raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Oh, really?" Getting a nod from her in return. "Interesting... but you're not a messy eater, I don't think you'll get your clothes dirty."

She shrugged. "We'll see. I'm just gonna have to be careful." Sending him a quick grin before they fell into a comfortable silence again.

Before they entered the festival, the group decided to explore some of the more narrow side lanes. Lined with tables, they were able to look through typical touristy souvenirs they might be interested in buying - anything from magnets, to bags or hats, or even paintings.

At the very end of that lane, they finally reached the hot spot of the festival. The crowd they had seen earlier was nothing compared to what they were met with at that moment. A round of gasps flooded through the group, and Minnie could feel herself taking a step closer to the members next to her, who just so happened to be Woozi and Hoshi. She managed to get right in between the two, catching the attention of both unit leaders.

The producer spoke up first. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Her head snapped towards him. "Oh- yeah, yeah."

Minnie wasn't terrible with crowds. She used to be. The thought of being in one could make her panic within only a few seconds. But that was in the past. She had gotten used to bigger masses of people - she had to over time. These days, people don't make her nervous anymore, she had promised herself to keep her head up high and keep a positive mindset, remembering how bad her anxiety used to be when she was younger - constantly looking for a security guard or other member had become exhausting over time and also almost impossible. Only airports are what she sometimes still fears. But this wasn't an airport and she was surrounded by her members, so everything was good.

Hoshi's arm suddenly thrown over her, made her glance over at him. "Let's get drunk."

[A clear goal ahead]

[Very ambitious]

His smile was so bright, making her chuckle at the chubby cheeks forming as the excitement was beaming off of him.

She let her arm wrap around his waist as she could feel him pulling her in closer. His hand brushed over the naked skin of her biceps.

"Won't you get cold later?" Commenting on the cold that would wash over the old city once the sun would set completely, leaving only the moon in the sky.

Minnie shrugged before looking up at him with a grin. "Once the alcohol is flowing, I'll forget about the cold." Her words made the '96 Liner cackle and give her a proud squeeze while Woozi just shook his head with a sigh, already knowing once these two were drinking together, there'd be no stopping them.

[A duo you have to look out for]

They continued their walk into the very centre of the open space, already admiring all the wine and food stands around them. The members could already tell, they would enjoy this evening very much. The producers informed them that they were allowed to roam around freely and on their own, only to remember to meet up later on at the restaurant they were standing in front of.

First on the list to enjoy the festival to its fullest was to purchase empty wine glasses, which Hoshi had already spotted. The 15 Euros entrance fee came along with a pouch, a glass, a pen, and a piece of paper to document each wine they'd be drinking to remember it later on - a survival participation kit if you so will. The group divided itself into a few members, who lined up to get a couple of those, while the rest stayed back and waited.

With their kits on them, the idols started their journey around the festival. Some decided to start on the left, others went to the right side first, and a few even just went straight into the mass.

-

Minnie, Dokyeom, and Hoshi had found themselves together, arriving at their first spot. After the woman generously filled up their glasses, they left the stall to find a free spot to stand together. Jeonghan and Joshua joined them within a few seconds as well.

Just as the girl was about to take her first sip of the evening, the '97 Liner stopped her.

"You have to smell it first."

With scrunched eyebrows, she looked at him closely.

"Smell it," he demonstrated, "And then swirl it in your glass and let oxygen get to it."

[A wine connoisseur at work.]

Minnie chuckled, "You became a real... how do you say-," she turned towards her fellow English-speaking member, "a wine connoisseur?" But Joshua just shrugged in return, grinning to himself,

"I have no idea."

"A wine expert," she settled on a simpler term, getting a bright smile from the main vocalist in response. Minnie did as she was told, moving her glass to let the wine move around before she took another sniff, getting notified by the experts that the smell was supposed to be different. Well,... if they say so.

"Can I drink it now?" She carefully asked, meeting Hoshi's eye as he had already thrown his head back to get the alcohol down his throat.

Dokyeom nodded, "Yeah, after smelling it, take a sip." The two '97 Liners clinked their glasses together before making the next move. As soon as the liquid touched their tongue, DK let out a satisfied hum.

"OH!" He put the glass down again. "Buongiorno!" Making the members around him laugh at his reaction.

"It's really good," Minnie nodded in agreement, handing hers over to Shua to let him make his own review. He took a quick sip and just by the raise of his eyebrows, the female member knew, he was thinking the same thing.

"Really good, wow."

Knowing that this was only the first one of many they tried, they were even more motivated to explore the other stalls as well, heading straight towards the next one. Stuck in line, Shua pulled out his go-pro to film the '97 Liner closely.

"Dokyeom seems like such a professional," he commented, getting a chuckle out of the girl next to them.

"When going to the winery today," DK started. "It was fun thinking that each bottle of wine had its own story." Minnie couldn't help but cackle at his statement.

"You're getting so sentimental over bottles of wine?"

"Think about it!" He scolded her, "Wine bottles sometimes have a long way in front of them and then they get stored for a very long time before you get to drink them."

"Okay, okay," she nodded, yet still finding amusement in the sentiment. "I understand."

They got their glasses filled up once again, this time, Minnie clinked hers with Hoshi after he had tapped her on the shoulder, nudging his in her direction.

"This one is heavy," he commented on it, handing it over to Shua - all while Minnie stood there with a frown. "What's wrong?" Hoshi asked her, noticing her quiet stance.

"I don't know if I can really taste a difference. It's wine," she shrugged.

[Alcohol is alcohol]

"You have to take a class like us," he told her. "Then you'll become an expert as well." Making her and the '95 Liner laugh.

Suddenly, Jeonghan jumped in, taking the glass into his hold, "What is it like?"

"It's heavy!" Hoshi blurted out. "I can feel that it's heavy," he proudly announced.

"You did well at the winery tour today," Joshua complimented him, getting a smile out of the younger member.

-

The ringing sound coming from Minnie's back pocket of her jeans brought the attention of all the members to her. She took her phone out, but before she could answer, Hoshi got nosy.

"Who is it?"

"Wonwoo," she let him know, a slight frown to her brows as she picked up, catching the 'aw' from Joshua and having to hold back a roll of her eyes, but not her grin.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" He asked her.

"At one of the stalls with the members. I can tell you the name, wait-", thinking he might want to join them, when he stopped her,

"Do you want to look at some of the souvenirs?"

[Roomates that have similar taste in sightseeing]

"Oh! Yes!" Her exclaim made the others glance at her in surprise. "But- where are you?"

Wonwoo tried to explain the location of his whereabouts as best as he could, knowing that most of the corners in the area looked too similar to each other.

"I think, I know what you mean," Minnie assured him. "I'll be right there." She let him know before hanging up with a soft 'bye'.

"Where are you going?" Jeonghan asked her as soon as he had put her phone away again.

"Wonwoo wants to look at the souvenirs." She turned around to glance at the side of the festival space, focusing on the different windows of the shops. "He said, he's over there. I'm gonna go," she let the others know. But not before leaving with an empty glass. She got a refill on what she and the members had just shared, finishing it quickly again, before handing the glass over and excusing herself from the rest of the group, getting a couple of 'be careful' and 'call him if you can't find him' in return before she disappeared into the mass.

[Caring friends <3]

The grip on the go-pro in her hand tightened as she managed to brush past the people coming from the opposite direction. Thankfully, Wonwoo's directions were clear and his location was close enough to let her find him quickly and not look like a lost puppy in the middle of the crowd.

Her smile widened as soon as her eyes fell on the familiar back looking into one of the windows, only to get even wider once she found Na PD turning around and revealing his face.

"Hyung!" She called out with a wave. The producer chuckled at her action, waving back and grinning as she waddled over to the duo. Wonwoo turned around at the sound of her voice, welcoming her with a smile as well.

The cameraman, who was filming the two men focused his view on her as she got closer.

"How was the wine?" Na PD wondered, getting a big smile in return.

"Really good," she sheepishly admitted, knowing that there most probably was already a slight blush in her cheeks since she hadn't eaten much before they started drinking. "But!" Minnie quickly added, "I haven't drunk a lot yet."

"Yet?" Wonwoo chuckled at her.

[Remembering Hoshi's words]

The girl nodded with a slight shrug, "Who knows... maybe we're gonna drink more later on."

"YOU are definitely going to drink some more," Youngseok chuckled as they started their journey into one of the side streets that separated them from the busy main space of the wine festival.

Minnie stopped in her tracks, making Wonwoo do the same immediately as well. "You can't say that!" She pointed at the producer with a smile. "That makes me sound like a drunk."

The '96 Liner patted her back to keep her walking while the laughs of the oldest of the three could be heard outside of the camera's view. "I didn't say that."

"You just enjoy having fun," Wonwoo defended her. "With wine."

"Exactly," she nodded at him while Na PD just shook his head.

[The excuse of drinking a lot]

As the two idols wanted to leave the plaza and head towards the side streets, Na PD decided to leave them with the other producer and stayed back at the main area of the wine festival to keep an eye on the rest of the group. They said their goodbyes and promised to meet up again at the restaurant they had picked out for later activities.

Now alone as three, writer and producer Choi Jaeyoung wondered, "What are you guys looking for?"

"I want to do something the others haven't done," the rapper explained.

Minnie nodded along to his words. "And we also talked about bringing something back to Seoul."

"Like what?" The producer wanted to know.

"Maybe magnets?" Wonwoo glanced at the girl.

"Yeah," she agreed. "We could see if we can get something for all of the members. Like small things." The duo determined that would be a good idea.

[Always thinking about the others as well]

Just as they were strolling through the narrow street, the '96 Liner stopped. "Let's go there!" He pointed at a walkthrough, painted in a bright yellow, easily catching the eyes of bystanders. "It's so pretty there."

Minnie and Writer Choi were slightly ahead, therefore not able to see what he was talking about but as soon as they caught up with him, the girl gasped.

"Woah..." Her gaze fell on the stone bridge they were getting close to that stretched over trees that were planted much lower and would lead to the other side, where another narrow street was waiting for them, but with brightly painted houses instead of souvenir shops.

"This really is a picture spot," Wonwoo commented, getting nods of agreement as answers.

Jaeyoung looked around the area. "I guess this is a village where people live," he explained.

"Oh wow... to live here...," Minnie dreamed out loud.

"Would you like that?" The producer asked her, getting a nod with a big smile from her.

"We talked about it earlier," she told him, swiftly pointing at Wonwoo, "it must be really nice to have a house here and be able to come whenever you want."

[Deep chats]

"If my house looked like that," Wonwoo jumped into the conversation. "I'm confident, I'd live happily."

"Mm," he hummed. "That's true. But you'd need someone to take care of it while you're gone."

Minnie gave him a quick look, "Mm... I didn't think that far. I just like the idea of it."

[Dreaming a lot while you're young...]

The writer chuckled. "I see."

"Wait," the female member turned around to glance at the rapper who was still admiring the view. "Did you just say you'd live happily if you had a house here?"

With raised eyebrows, he focused on her. "Yeah, wh-"

"Don't you live happily now?!" She threw at him.

Suddenly, the producer and cameraman laughed out loud at her words and Wonwoo's surprised expression. The rapper joined in, chuckling while Minnie continued to look at him unamused.

"Minnie-ya," PD Choi took a deep breath, trying to control his laughter.

The rapper did the same but went ahead to pat her shoulder but she softly pushed him away with a smile.

"I thought you were happy."

"Does she take everything word for word usually?" Jaeyoung asked into the round.

[Never take everything too seriously]

Wonwoo nodded with a smile only to turn towards the girl in the next second, meeting her already sheepish grin to match.

"Ah...," the older man breathed out, "You guys..."

"We're fun, huh?" Minnie jumped next to him, hugging his arm in an overly excited tone.

The producer nodded, patting her hand, "Very, yeah." Getting chuckles from the idols.

[Quick change of emotion seems normal]

Wonwoo had taken his phone out to capture the beautiful scenery surrounding them, making sure to not miss any spots. Minnie decided to take everything in with her own eyes, forgetting about the device in the back pocket of her jeans and not noticing the camera being focused on her for a few shots.

The writer's voice made her turn towards him. "Go stand there on the side together. Let me take a picture of you." He pointed at the edge of the bridge, pushing the girl closer to her fellow member. Handing the phone over to him, Wonwoo joined Minnie.

Together, they leaned onto the stones with the rapper putting his hand on top of them to let him lean.

"Get closer," Jaeyoung motioned with his hands to make them hurdle in together. Minnie chuckled but took a step closer. Wonwoo whispered something, getting a chuckle out of her as she settled down again, letting her shoulder brush against his chest while his right arm was resting behind her.

"A little closer," he asked them, getting an almost shy smile and shake of Minnie's head as an answer. Wonwoo opened his arm to let her slide in closer, scootching in a little bit more as well.

With her head slightly tilted towards the '96 Liner, the producer seemed finally happy enough and started to take some pictures, smiling brightly at the two in front of him.

"Woah... very pretty," Writer Choi grinned. "Next to Minnie, Wonwoo looks even broader."

The girl scoffed jokingly as the rapper took his phone back so they could continue their adventures, with a slight blush to his cheeks now. "Are you making fun of my statue?"

"No," he promised her, putting his hands on her shoulders, and leading them forward. "I'm just saying you look sweet like a doll and Wonwoo looks like he's part of the bridge."

[Compliments all around]

Even though the rapper was further ahead of them, the laughter coming from him made the two chuckle as well. He stopped to let them catch up, only continuing once he was next to Minnie again, leaving her to be in between the two men.

They decided to go back to where they came from, remembering that they had wanted to look through souvenirs and hopefully also buy some. Lazily strolling through the street, the girl had looped her arm through Wonwoo's, slightly leaning onto him as they glanced around.

"I think they sold some pretty pictures here before," he thought out loud as they headed towards the small stalls that were set up on the left side of the street. And just as they arrived, his eyes immediately found what he was looking for. "There it is!"

Nosily, the girl lifted her head, trying to get a glimpse of what was in front of them, but Wonwoo dragged her over.

"Oh my god," she smiled. "They look so good!"

[Admiring artwork carefully]

Together they looked through the small paintings lined up on the very left side of the seller's table. Compared to the other artwork he was presenting, the ones the idols were focused on, were tiny.

"Did he draw all of these?" Wonwoo wondered.

Minnie shrugged. "I guess so. They look handpainted." With a closer look, you were able to see each clear brush stroke that made the paintings only look even more alive than they already did.

"Oh, look!" The female member pointed at the back of the table. "Magnets." Originally, the two had planned to buy small souvenirs like that, thinking of putting them up on their fridge to make their new place look more lived in, but at that moment, as they were surrounded by beautiful artwork left and right, the choice became harder than they had originally thought it would be.

Still, they agreed magnets would make the most sense, so they settled on buying some of them along with one tiny landscape painting they couldn't take their eyes off of - where they would put it was a conversation for another time.

-

After enough time roaming the streets for a good while more, they found themselves back at the plaza again. The NANA Tour producers had gone ahead and secured a big table at one of the restaurants. They were slowly gathering the members one by one once they passed them, leading them towards the seating area where Wonwoo and Minnie were already chatting with the other producers, passing the time while waiting.

"Oooh," Jeonghan called out as his eyes found the two younger members. "You really did go shopping," he commented on the plastic bag the rapper was holding.

With her arms crossed, the girl glanced at the '95 Liner. "I told you he called me so we could look at souvenirs."

But he just shrugged. "I don't know, maybe you lied to me."

[Trust issues]

"Why would I lie to you about that?" She chuckled, only getting a cheeky grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows in return, which made her shake her head and turn her attention back to Hyojung, who was already laughing at their antics.

Settling down at the massive table they had booked for every Seventeen and NANA Tour member, Wonwoo started to proudly show off the trinkets he and Minnie had chosen to guy. She had just come back and was about to take a seat on the chair nearest her, right next to Dokyeom, who was sitting opposite Wonwoo, when the '97 Liner suddenly jumped up.

"Do you want to sit here?" He asked the girl, who just glanced at him in surprise.

She shook her head, motioning for him to sit back down again. "No, no, it's okay." Assuring him with a quick smile. He pulled the chair out for her, his eyes trained on her, only leaving her frame once she had properly sat down.

[The gentleman is back]

"Did you order yet?" She wondered, getting a 'yes' in return and before she was able to open her mouth again, DK continued,

"Just sodas. They're over there." Pointing at the variety of cans. Minnie didn't have to ask as he was already handing her a Coke Zero. Appreciatively with a grin, she took it and emptied it into the glass at her seat.

"Has Myungho not come yet?" Na PD asked into the round, making every member look around the table only to find no sight of the '97 Liner.

To Minnie's right, Jun was quick with the answer. "Myungho, Mingyu, and Woozi are over there still drinking!" Stretching his arm behind him to point at where the trio was enjoying another round of wine.

"Oh God," the female member chuckled as she glanced at them.

-

Suddenly, DK sighed.

Minnie's ears immediately perked up. "What?"

"I'm kinda disappointed," he admitted. "I only drank like five glasses."

From a little further down the table, Dino caught the disappointment.

"Guys," he called out, making both '97 Liners' heads turn. "Do you want to go one more round?"

The girl chuckled at the excitement coming from the youngest, ready to shake her head, but Dokyeom was already out of his seat.

"Are you not coming?" The vocalist looked down at the girl, who caught his gaze with expecting eyes.

"Are you really going?" Quickly changing her focus to the maknae who was already on his feet, wine glass tight in his grip.

"Of course," DK's smile beamed at her. "Come on." Nudging for her to follow them.

Once she didn't immediately react, he took a step closer to her, getting a hold of her elbow and pulling her up.

"Dokyeom-ah!" Minnie laughed out loud, not pushing him away, but standing up along with him to leave the table.

[Children, don't let peer pressure influence you]

[This is not a good example]

Now, all the attention was on the leaving trio. Na PD was the first to comment on it. "They're going again!"

"Noona didn't get to taste much, we're gonna show her around some more," the youngest explained, leaving the female idol to look at the rest of the group with wide eyes and a chuckle.

"It wasn't even my idea!"

"We'll be back before the food arrives," Dino promised before pushing the older members along with him, using this as a 'see you later'.

-

Just as they were getting their glasses refilled, familiar voices spoke up from behind them.

"Buongiorno."

Turning around, Minnie found Jun and Joshua, who seemed to have followed them, along with their wine glasses, ready for another round as well.

"OOH," the girl shouted out in excitement, "You too?"

Shua pushed past them to get to the front of the stall as Dokyeom, Minnie, and Dino were already sipping on the next round of wine.

"This here is the best one," the female member admitted, glancing at Jun, who decided to stay a bit behind.

"This is good?" He suddenly asked in English.

She nodded with a big smile decorating her face, "Very good, yes."

"Good, good."

[The alcohol is so good, they had to change languages]

"Here," she handed him her half-filled glass, exchanging it with his empty one.

"Oh- thank you," Jun accepted it, taking a sip right away while the girl continued to look at him, just waiting for his reaction. As soon as his eyebrows shot up, she knew, she was right - it was in fact the best one so far.

"Wow," the '96 Liner breathed out. "It's really good."

"I told you!" Jokingly, she smacked his upper arm.

After she got a refill into his glass as well, the group took a step to the side, each of them enjoying their wine slowly together. In silence, they took sip after sip, letting the background noise fill the silence.

"I'm so happy," Joshua admitted dreamily, his head tilted to the side. With a soft smile, Minnie gazed at him. She had joined him by his side, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "What do I do?"

"Enjoy the moment." She tried to let the scene not pass, closing her eyes to add to the feeling they were trying to create. Just a comforting atmosphere where each member was quietly sipping on their wine, inhaling the fresh, yet slightly damp and cooler Summer night air.

"I think I can drink 30 more glasses here," he admitted, getting a chuckle out of her. "Drunk on this atmosphere..."

With a grin, she interlocked their arms before pulling him ahead and calling out, "Let's go!" Lifting her now empty glass of wine as she was ready for the next one.

[Enthusiastic for more alcohol]

The laughter of the other members drowned out the background noise.

-

"Should we meet up with the others?"

The two had been walking around on their own for a bit when Joshua spotted Woozi, Mingyu, and Minghao, whom they had yet to see in quite a while. As it was slowly getting darker and they could only guess their food was soon to be served, they were on their way back to the restaurant. But wine was such an easy distraction.

"Where are they?" Minnie was looking in a different direction, not seeing Shua lift his glass when he met eyes with Mingyu, who, in return, found the girl before she could catch him. Sneaking up to her, while she was occupied with her re-fill, she didn't notice the massive statue that was suddenly behind her. Only when she started to turn to the side.

"AH-" she jumped in surprised when Mingyu lowered his head to meet her gaze. Minnie welcomed him with a hard punch to his shoulder. "Idiot..."

[SEVENTEEN loves each other]

Ignoring the show of annoyance - even if it wasn't serious - the '97 Liner threw his arm around the girl, pulling her into his side before snatching the glass from her grip.

"Didn't you drink enough already today?" She asked him, a slight teasing undertone to her voice.

The rapper gulped down everything that was inside before glancing down at her again. "Didn't you drink enough already today?"

[Bickering is an act of kindness]

"I didn't even drink that much!" She scoffed, letting herself get pulled towards the restaurant as the rest of the group, now with Minghao and Woozi in tow as well, decided to join the team again.

"But your face is really red," Gyu commented, making Minnie stop for a second, her hands flying up to her cheeks.

"Really?" Only getting a chuckle and a shake of his head in return, making her do the same before they continued their walk towards the reserved table.

-

Stomach filled, in a happy, slightly tipsy, and contained state, Minnie leaned back into her chair, gazing into thin air. A good hour has passed, in which the only thing the idols did was eat. And eat even more. And then drink some more too.

The voices of the members around her were getting quieter as she zoned out, getting pulled back into the presence at the sound of her name being called out by Youngseok.

"Huh?" She glanced up at him.

Na PD chuckled, "Everyone but you is eating so well."

With an almost pained look on her face, she clutched her stomach. "I already ate so much. I promise." And for once, she wasn't lying about it. "I'm really full from the wine."

[Alcohol... is... a meal...?]

"Minnie gets full from drinking quickly," Jeonghan added to her statement.

The producer nodded in understanding. "Did you drink too quickly?"

"I think so. But I feel good, that's all that matters." She grinned brightly. "And I'm happy."

"And you did eat well," Dokyeom commented with a proud smile.

To her right, Minnie found Vernon's head tipped down. Jun had left for the bathroom, giving her a perfect view of the younger rapper.

She turned to Wonwoo, pointing at the '98 Liner. "Is he really sleeping?" Wondering if maybe he had watched him fall into a slumber. Leaning slightly forward, the rapper tried to get a glimpse of the younger's eyes, but he sat back with a shrug.

"I don't know. I don't think so."

Carefully, she reached out, petting his shoulder. "Vernonnie-" He raked himself up and met her eyes immediately. "Oh- I thought you were sleeping."

"No," he chuckled, "But I'm really tired." He let a hand brush over his face, stopping to rub his eyes.

Minnie nodded, "Mm, same..." Knowing as soon as her head would hit a pillow, her eyes would shut and getting up in the morning would be a big challenge. But the quality of sleep would be absolutely worth it.

-

EP3-4. What are you doing?

Back at the AirBnB, some of the members gathered in the living room of the accommodation while waiting for further instructions. They knew the next point on their timetable was a game, yet what game they'd be playing was still a mystery to them.

Minnie found her place on the single stool in the corner between Jeonghan, who was occupying a single yellow chair and Joshua who was sharing the loveseat with Mingyu. Before she had sat down, she took the fan with S.Coups' face on it into her hands, now holding onto it tightly.

[Even when he's so far away, the leader is always close to the members]

Mindlessly, she looked around the room while catching some words from the '95 Liners' conversation.

At 9:30pm the members had separated into different rooms in the house, with Jun, Woozi, and Dokyeom still in the living room. The '97 Liner was singing along to the random tune the producer was playing, making up lyrics on the go. Minnie was listening to them from a few feet away. She had found an empty spot on the floor she could lie on while putting her legs up against the wall. All the alcohol and food had made her feel bloated and from what she remembered her friends once telling her, this was a quick way to get rid of that.

[Just another day in the life of a SEVENTEEN member?]

Wonwoo was coming back out of their room, eyes fixed on the phone in his hand as he walked towards the living room. Getting a glimpse of the girl in his peripheral view made him take a step back and glance down.

"Are you okay?"

Minnie opened her eyes and smiled. "Yep."

"Do you need help getting up?"

"No, I'm good. I'm just gonna lay here for a bit," she just answered, closing her eyes again.

Clearly unfazed by her antics, the rapper nodded. "Okay." Continuing his way into the living room to join Woozi on the left side, only that he sat down on the yellow couch. From the entryway, Na PD watched them with a fond smile, shaking his head when a chuckle fell from his lips.

For a few more seconds, the house was in complete silence other than Woozi and his guitar and Dokyeom's voice filling the ears of the people around them.

"Pumping and my butthole-" he suddenly sang, making the girl sit up and look to her right, watching the others stop in their movements. Even the producer had stopped playing.

The girl chuckled out loud, "What?"

"Why does your butthole come out?" Woozi asked, getting a round of laughter from the members in the room.

"The result of eating six dishes needs to have a result," Dokyeom explained honestly, only afterwards finding the female member who had now stood up but just stopped in the hallway, gazing at him almost disturbed.

"Oh-," he laughed out loud, "I'm sorry, Minnie!"

With a shake of her head, she joined the members, moving towards the side with the couch where Woozi and Wonwoo were sitting.

"It was good up to then," Wonwoo admitted, "and then you ruined it." Letting the girl settle down beside him.

Minnie pulled her legs up, letting them slightly lean onto the rapper's thighs as she sighed and let her head tilt back in exhaustion. Suddenly noticing the empty feeling in her back pocket, she wondered out loud.

"Where's my phone?" Speaking almost too quietly.

[Important for the young generation]

Not looking up from his own, Wonwoo told her, "On the bed. You put it there not too long ago."

"Oh yeah, right...," Her breathy voice was a clear indication of her tired she had become. Or maybe it was just the food and alcohol.

"Minnie's in a food coma right now. She doesn't know what she's doing or saying," Jun joked, making her straighten her head again.

"That's true. I feel so... like I just ate a ten-course meal."

"Did you really eat that much?" He asked her, getting a nod in return. But Wonwoo had a different answer,

"You didn't."

Minnie turned her head towards him. "Yes, I did. I ate enough."

"Enough, but not a lot," he argued.

She scoffed softly, almost rolling her eyes. "That's the same."

[Oh so nice]

"You drank a lot," Dokyeom added to the conversation, making her nod.

"That too," she admitted. "Just a lot all together." And threw her head back again with another grunt.

Only a few moments later, the group was asked to come together in the kitchen downstairs. With heavy steps, Minnie followed the guys, getting surprised by the volume of Wonwoo's loud voice as he called out for the rest.

She joined Vernon and Dino on the right side of the long table in the middle of the room, settling down right between them. The maknae was still carrying the crossbody bag with the 'pocket money' they were given, making her chuckle and point it out to him. The bag had become almost useless as S.Coups had stopped their overseas payment option since they were apparently spending too much money. The revelation made the girl roll her eyes back when they were told this news on the bus earlier. But that didn't mean that they wouldn't get another way of earning some money to spend.

Mingyu was the last to arrive, but once he joined the group, the 'rules' of the game were laid out for them. There were two separate rooms on the second floor where the NANA Tour staff was staying. By playing rock-paper-scissors, the order in which they would enter these rooms was decided. What was waiting for them there, wasn't revealed to them just yet.

Somewhere along the line, it was finally Minnie's turn to go upstairs, coming to sight with the DIY signs displaying 'Room 1' and 'Room 2'. Not leaving herself a long time to think, she went with the first room to her right.

"Ah, hyung!" She immediately found Na PD already waiting for her with a bright but somewhat cheeky smile on his lips.

[Happy to see her favourite producer]

"How are you, Minnie?" He motioned for her to sit down in front of him. "I heard you're playing a game downstairs."

The girl shook her head, her lips curled up in amusement. "I don't understand what they're doing, so I'm glad I called up right now." Her confession got a laugh out of the producer. With Jeonghan's support, DK created a game he called 'Electric Man' as he tried to entertain the other members while they were waiting for everyone to get the final instructions of what they were doing next. What was the premise of his self-made game? No one knew. How was it played? Also, no one really knew.

"Did they tell you what we're doing?"

"Dokyeom said something about missions," she recalled, "but I think it's probably Mafia, right?"

Na PD pointed at the cards that were spread out on the table in front of them. "You can pick a card and find out."

"Why are you making this so mysterious?" She squealed out, glancing over at the cameraman in the corner who just shrugged. Biting down on her lip, Minnie pretended to think for a split second before her hand landed on top of one card.

"Is this a good one?"

"Turn around and find out," Youngseok simply told her, making her huff out while holding back a grin.

"No," she changed her mind, reaching for a different card, "I'll take this one."

"Okay," he simply nodded and gave her the 'okay' to take a look at it.

Flipping it over, so only she could see it first, Minnie read the words on it. With a slight frown on her eyebrows, almost in pain, she looked up again.

"Can I change it?"

"What did you get?"

She showed the card to the producers and then moved it slightly so the camera could get a good shot of it.

'Make a package of Ramen and eat it with a member.'

"I'm really full. I can't eat anything anymore," she whined with a chuckle.

"You have to share it with a member, so they could technically eat more than you," Youngseok tried to compromise, not wanting to torture her by having to eat.

Minnie nodded with a soft sigh. "So I just have to do this?" She wondered, slightly confused by the challenge here.

[Are you sure it's that simple?]

"You have to do this mission and not get caught," he reminded her. The premise of it being able to earn some money for the next day was explained to her. Now suddenly everything made a lot more sense than before. Finishing her mission while also trying to stop others from achieving theirs. Easier said than done in a group of currently 13 people, all of whom are usually very attentive to the ones around them.

Minnie nodded, mostly to herself. "Okay." Grinning up at the producer, who had the same facial expression.

"Good luck," he told her as she was on her way back downstairs.

-

The playing field reached from the basement - including the sauna - up to the first floor where the living room and their individual rooms were, only that those and the outside area were banned from using while trying to finish their missions.

As soon as the producers gave them the 'go', the members jumped up from their seats. Minnie and Jeonghan were the only ones who decided to stay seated, knowing if they went ahead right away, there was a good chance, they'd fail.

Dokyeom filled the room with his singing, making Joshua suddenly join in while Vernon just stood on the side, glancing at him with an unreadable facial expression. Minnie's eyes fell on him. Feeling her gaze on him, he turned towards her, giving her the same look.

"What?" She asked him. "What's going on?" Still not knowing why he had stopped in his tracks.

"I'm out," he chuckled.

Her eyes widened immediately. "Already?! What happened?" But he just shook his head and went to find one of the producers to ask for further instructions. He didn't even last a second.

The female member decided to glance around, trying to find some suspicious behaviour. With all the turmoil, it was hard to tell. Most of the members were just walking around, trying to entertain themselves, or at least it seemed like that.

The loud voices coming from the kitchen caught her attention, but what made her stop and stare was Dokyeom who had fished out a Ramen package and looked like he was about to make it. Quick on her feet, she rushed over to the producers, trying to find Na PD.

"Hyung!" He turned around when she called out for him. "What if I also make the Ramen with a member and then eat it together?"

But he shook his head. "You have to make it on your own and then share it."

[Rules are strict]

Minnie pressed her lips together and muttered a quiet, "Okay," before strolling over to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She asked her fellow '97 Liner as if she couldn't see it.

"Ramen," he showed her the package. "Do you want some too?"

"No, thank you, I'll make my own." She simply said, about to brush past him, when his voice stopped her.

"Didn't you say you were full from earlier?" True to his attentive self Minnie could curse at that very moment.

[Very attentive members]

"Yeah...," she trailed off. "But there's always room for Ramen."

"True," he shrugged and moved on.

Out of the same cupboard as him, Minnie got a package out and joined him by the kitchen island. Some of the members had found Dokyeom's act of cooking suspicious but now that the girl was technically just joining him, no one was questioning her. Almost no one.

While she was looking around for some vegetables and other things she could add, her eyes found Mingyu, who was currently filling a metal bowl with sugar.

"What are you doing?" She eyes him suspiciously, sending him a grin. His reaction told her everything she needed to know. The rapper snatched the bowl off the counter and tried to hide it behind him.

"Leave it!"

"Wh- I was just asking!" She argued back, not able to hold back her laughter. He most definitely wasn't one of the good liars of the group. Mindlessly, he put the bowl back, focusing on what she was holding, which was a carton of eggs. Eggs that he would need.

"What are you doing with them?"

Her lips curled up into a wicked grin. "Why?" She raised her eyebrows provokingly. "Do you need them?"

Mingyu tried to reach for them, but for once her reflexes were quick enough to dodge out of the way.

"Ha ha!" She threw at him before taking a few steps back. Thanks to his height and much longer limbs, it didn't take long for him to catch up to her, framing Minnie in the kitchen corner. She held the carton far away from him, almost leaning backwards against the counter.

"Tell me what you need them for."

"No," he argued. "Just give me a few and you can have the rest."

Before she could snap back at him, Dokyeom's voice rang through the room. "Has anyone seen the eggs?" Distracted by the question, Minnie's grip slightly lightened, giving Mingyu the perfect opportunity to snatch them out of her hands easily.

"HEY!" She jogged after him, ready to fight, but he suddenly put them back on the counter, now focused on Joshua, who was walking away from the kitchen, taking the bowl of sugar with him.

"Hyung!" Mingyu called out as he went after him.

Without wasting another moment, Minnie took the eggs and brought them back to where she would need them.

In the background, the '97 Liner was still fighting for his bowl with one of the older members, who was very keen on not giving it back. That's when Mingyu's patience snapped, making a shout out to him, using words most definitely not appropriate for TV.

Minnie gasped out loud. "Mingyu just cursed!" She pointed at him, eyeing the producer, who just started laughing on the other end of the room.

[Calling out bad behaviour]

"Hey! Why are you cursing?" Dokyeom, who was still next to her, jumped into the conversation, ending the question by dragging it out and creating another melody. His antics got a chuckle out of the girl and Joshua, who was still running from Mingyu, who would not stop chasing him.

"Dokyeom and Minnie are making Ramen, stop them first!" The '97 Liner tried to convert the attention of his fellow members, who glanced up at him with big eyes.

"Don't drag us into your *shit*!" The girl argued, immediately getting a soft punch to her upper arm.

[Minnie said some pretty words we had to bleep out]

"You can't curse either," DK chuckled when he noticed that the girl had only just realised what she had said. A hand immediately flew up to cover her mouth.

"Now look at you, you punk!" Mingyu pointed a strict finger at her. "You're cursing too!"

[Nice words from a nice member]

"And look who I got it from!" Coyping his stance periodically.

In the meantime, Joshua strutted over to the kitchen island, motivated by the words of the younger rapper to investigate what the two '97 Liners were doing. Snatching it right out of Minnie's hands, Shua grabbed the uncooked noodles and walked away.

"YA!" The girl shouted after him, taking off in a jog to catch up with him.

"Ey, hyung!" Dokyeom continued. "Why are you taking out ramyeon? We want to eat it."

"Why are you cooking it all of a sudden?" The '95 Liner looked at the younger members expectedly while the girl was desperately trying to get a hold of her food from his hands. But damn his quick reflexes. "Do you have a mission together?" With a hand on her shoulder, Joshua made Minnie stop.

With a pained facial expression, she whined at him, "What are you talking about?! How could we have the same mission when we went to the rooms separately! I don't even know what his mission is, I just wanted to eat this because I saw it and felt like it!" Her cries seemed to make him buckle as he put his arms down and placed the noodles back on the countertop.

Swiftly, they were able to move around the kitchen, Minnie grabbing her own pot to fill with water finally and heat it up by the stove.

Suddenly, Mingyu's groans filled the room.

"What did you do?" She glanced to her left, watching him pick the bowl back out of the sink where it had fallen into.

"Nothing, nothing," he quickly brushed it off and went to continue, but the girl blocked his way. "Minnie-ya," he hissed at her. "Move."

She shook her head. "What are you doing? Is it your mission?"

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes with a chuckle and gently pushed her to the side, making her giggle. Dokyeom sneaked a quick look at the two, laughing at the duo.

"Mingyu is really suspicious about the bowl," he commented.

Minnie nodded in agreement, "We have to stop him," her eyes not leaving his form as he moved around the room. As soon as DK tried to get the stove to work, her attention was back to what was in front of her. Since it worked with gas rather than with electricity, the members faced their next challenge.

"Wait," Minnie told him. "Raise the flame," she motioned for him to move to the side slightly so she could change the strength with one of the regulators. Just as a small flame let itself be seen, Mingyu passed them. With a quick blow to the stove, the fire got extinguished and the other two '97 Liners were back to the start.

"You f-" The girl lifted her hand, ready to curse at the rapper, but already knowing her well enough, he caught her arm mid-air.

"Don't curse," he grinned at her, making her only even more annoyed.

[He's doing our job, thank you <3]

She pushed him away. "Leave us alone," whining out loud seemed to entertain the other members as Dino's laughter rang through their ears.

"What are you guys doing?" He stopped by her side, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her in closer to let his chin rest on her shoulder.

"Mingyu's being mean." Her pout got an eye-roll from the man in question and another chuckle from the maknae while DK was still focused on getting the stove to work.

"I can't do it!" He called out in disappointment, making the two younger members turn around while holding onto each other - Dino was clearly not thinking of letting go that soon. Minnie patted his back and brought him with her as she got to work on her portion of Ramen noodles. Easier said than done when suddenly the two packages they had opened had disappeared into thin air.

"Huh?!" The female member looked stunned at where they were last seen. "Didn't we...," she thought out loud, glancing around in confusion. "Dokyeom, where did you put the Ramen?"

"Right there," he pointed at the now completely empty space on the counter. "Where's it gone?"

"Mingyu!" The girl spat at her fellow '97 Liner, who stood a few feet away from them. His head shot up, meeting her furious eyes.

"What? I didn't do anything!" He immediately stated.

"Don't lie! Where did you put it?"

"W- I didn't do it! What even are you talking about?" Completely stunned, he held her gaze.

Dokyeom's hand reached out to touch his arm. "Hyung, you're a really bad liar."

Mingyu scoffed with an eye roll. "But I'm not lying."

"You're annoying!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Liar!" Minnie and Mingyu went back and forth, completely ignoring what the other members around them were doing.

[A normal day for SEVENTEEN]

Woozi and Jeonghan were still walking around the space, having a fight of their own, Dokyeom was nowhere to be seen and Joshua seemed to have been minding his own business.

"Guys!" Suddenly Minghao's voice rang through the room. "I'm done!"

In surprise, everyone's eyes fell on him. He had just come out of the left corner of the room, clearly dripping wet with his hair slicked back and a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"What did you have to do?" Minnie asked.

Mingyu took a different guess. "Did you have to wash your hair?"

"No, I'm done if I go into the sauna," Hao enlightened them. A round of 'aah' came from the members in return.

-

"Seungkwan is supposed to do Calligraphy!" Hoshi came sprinting down the stairs, bursting into the kitchen, interrupting another argument that had broken out between Mingyu and Minnie as she tried to get the bowl out of his tight grip. The interruption made her loosen her grip, and he was able to pull away, making her stumble back slightly, only for him to reach out and catch her arm, steadying her.

"Calligraphy?" She asked again, getting a nod from the '96 Liner who was still chuckling.

"Wonwoo's trying to take his stuff away and hide it." And just the mere imagination of that picture got all of the members in the room to laugh. Some wanted to see it with their own eyes and rushed up the stairs, leaving the kitchen fairly empty. Out of the corner of her eye, Minnie saw something colourful peek out from the shelf. Taking a step closer, she found the Ramen packages she had been looking for underneath a cake bell. Not even caring about who had put it there, she took the quiet time to get them back and head over into the kitchen, even forgetting about Mingyu who was moving around the room to find a moment of peace to finish his own mission.

[The mission might have been too easy]

Standing by the stove, water boiling and noodles cooking, Jeonghan and Woozi suddenly joined her. Secretively, they moved into the corner of the kitchen. As they spoke in hushed tones, the girl had a hard time catching what they were saying, but she was able to make out an important part.

"This is kind of vague, so I will protect you," he promised the group's producer.

"You're protecting him of what? Huh?" Minnie glanced over, her eyebrows raised with a smirk playing on her lips. "What are you guys doing?"

"Should I help you too?" Jeonghan's sudden question made her frown.

She shook her head. "I don't trust you."

[Hurtful words]

Right at that moment, Joshua came back, passing the girl and heading towards the two other members.

"They're being weird!" Minnie pointed out, only making him even more suspicious than he already was. With Shua's attention now on the older members, she was able to concentrate back on the noodles in front of her. She added the soup package and cracked an egg into the middle. Focusing on her own task at hand, she blended out most of what was happening around her. Dokyeom had been chasing Mingyu around the room. Only when the rapper's moans of pain and clanking of metal erupted did she turn around to take a look.

"What happened?" Her eyes were trained on him now limping towards the kitchen. "What did you do?" Taking a step closer she reached out to where Mingyu was clutching his knee, hunched over, clearly hurting from what had just happened.

"Be careful," she somewhat hissed at him while Dokyeom continued to worry, with a soft laugh lacing his voice.

"Are you okay?" But the answer to his question came quick when Mingyu suddenly took off in a sprint to the other side of the room with DK hot in his tracks, leaving the girl, once again, alone. Shrugging and with a deep breath, she went back to the stove, deciding to ignore the rest of their antics.

"Minnie," Woozi's voice made ears perk up.

"Huh?" She turned towards him, finding him with the screen of his phone facing her. With a few steps closer, he stopped right next to her.

"Do you want to say 'hi' to Carats?"

"To Carats?" Her focus was still on the pot in front of her, she didn't realise that she would be seeing herself on his screen as he was currently doing a livestream on Weverse.

"I'm live right now," he explained.

"Huh?" Confused she glanced over, surprising herself by watching her face stare right back at her. "Oh- hello everyone!" She leaned in closer, waving to the camera with a big smile. "Was that your mission?" She asked before another realisation hit her. Quickly, she covered the camera. "Are they even allowed to see this?"

With a chuckle, Woozi pushed her hand away, so the fans could see them again.

"If I'm supposed to do it, of course, they can see us."

Minnie sent another smile at them, "Hiii."

As soon as Hoshi came in closer, the group's producer asked him if he would want to be in the frame as well, now moving the phone to film him and away from the female member.

-

To see if it was finally done, Minnie grabbed a pair of wooden chopsticks they had gotten from the producers, dipping them into the pot and gathering some of the noodles. After a quick few blows, she got to taste them, nodding to herself happily. Just when she thought, she'd finally be done and could get to eating them and finishing her mission, Dokyeom came back again.

"Minnie, how did you turn on the stove?" With a lighter in his hand, he was clearly struggling, not knowing the next thing about a gas stove. Quickly, she helped him, not even thinking about this being a possible mission of his since it was hers already, she left him in the kitchen and moved over to the dining table. Minghao had followed her, claiming the seat next to her.

"Is this your mission?" He quietly asked her, keeping his voice low enough so no other member could hear them. With her lips pressed together, she looked at him, shaking her head. But Minghao chuckled, seeing right through her.

"Please," she whined. "Here, you can have some. Just please let me do this in peace." She held up the chopsticks with enough noodles for him to slurp and pushed the pot closer to him.

He leaned in, but before opening his mouth, he stopped for a second but decided to just take it, not in the mood to ruin this for her.

-

Hoshi had come down the stairs into the kitchen, seeing Minnie by the table, still painfully trying to finish the pot of Ramen while the two '95 Liners and Dokyeom were occupied by the stove.

"Is everyone already out?"

"Huh?" Jeonghan looked at him confused, "No, Minnie's still doing hers and Dokyeom too."

"Minnie?" The '96 Liner turned towards the girl, sitting down opposite of her with a big grin on his lips. "Is this your mission?"

She decided not to say anything but just nodded.

Slowly but surely, Hoshi reached out, obviously trying to pull the pot towards him. It didn't take long for the female member to catch onto his action.

"Just take it." She brushed it off. "I can't anymore, I'm so full." Minnie let herself fall into the chair with a heavy breath.

"Really? Just like that?" He wondered, taking the chopstick between his fingers.

The girl nodded. "I wanted to finish it, but I can't. I don't care."

[Smart]

Not caring much about the truth behind her words, Hoshi dug into the rest of the meal, while Minnie was biting down on her lip. Holding back her grin about the fact that she had just managed to achieve her secret mission without anyone knowing and with Hoshi believing she had given up that easily.

Looking around the room, her hands on top of her stomach, she noticed something.

"Has anyone seen Mingyu?" Only getting a shrug in return from the member sitting across from her while the other three were talking too loud amongst themselves to hear her. Remembering the last place she had seen him run off to, she decided to take a chance and go look for him.

In the left corner of the room was another door leading to what she had yet to discover, only knowing that Minghao came back from exactly there, soaking wet.

Pushing it open, she came to sight of the small pool right in front of her.

"Woah-" Movement out of the corner of her eye made her stop and turn her head. "What are you doing?" Watching Mingyu crouched down on the floor, the bowl tight in his grip and a whisk in the other hand. She chuckled at the sight while he just begged her to keep quiet.

"Finishing my mission," he explained to her.

"But what is it?" She took a step closer to look into the bowl, frowning at whatever was inside of it.

"I have to make a meringue."

"Meringue?" She repeated, unsure if she understood him correctly. "The stuff that goes into macarons?" He nodded his head quickly.

In the meantime, the door had opened again, letting Jeonghan in, who found them immediately. He didn't even have to ask what they were doing.

"He has to make meringue," Minnie let him know, taking a step to the side to let him fully in. As they both just stood there watching Mingyu whisk hastily, the girl felt a finger poke her side. She glanced down, but right up again, seeing the oldest member nudge his head towards the pool. A wide smirk spread on her lips, but she didn't need to be told twice. Watching the rapper intensively, she could tell how focused he was, not even noticing as she got closer again, now with some water in the cup she created with her hands. With a quick motion, she managed to dunk some of the water into the bowl before Mingyu could even realise it and pull it away.

"YA!" He shouted out, pushing her back. Not able to react quick enough, Minnie didn't get away far enough as he leaned forward, putting his arm into the water and splashing it right at her, only with much more force and amount.

"STOP, YOU-"

[At this point, we'd like the remind Carats and viewers that SEVENTEEN truly loves each other]

She shouted, giggling as she tried to get away, but bumped into Jeonghan. He switched positions with her, now copying Mingyu to throw some of the water on him. He repeated it while the rapper just stood in the corner, hoping to somewhat shield his bowl. Deciding he was drenched enough, the older member moved to the side while the '97 Liner got back to the water, ready to splash it back at the mischievous duo.

With a loud chuckle, Minnie took a few steps forward and just started to do the same, sudden laughter from her and the '95 Liner filling the room while Mingyu was still grunting in annoyance. From the other side of the pool, Jeonghan tried to help Minnie, splatter even more water onto the younger member.

"Mingyu, do you think you'll be able to make Meringue?" Giggling along with his words while the girl tried to contain her laughter.

Once they noticed he had officially given up by the way his shoulder sunk down, the splashing stopped.

"Ah, guys..." Mingyu sighed out loud. With a sweet chuckle, Minnie got closer to him, throwing her hands around his waist to hug him from behind. He turned around, making her loosen her grip and take a step back when he sat down the bowl, thinking he would just take a short second of peace. But before they could even blink, Mingyu put the bowl into the water, throwing the much bigger amount of water right at her before dipping it in again and making Jeonghan his second victim. Her screech could probably even be heard from next door.

"MINGYU!"

Minnie rubbed her eyes, not even thinking about her hair at the moment that was probably sticking to her forehead and all over the place, making her look like a wet puppy. The rapper managed to push past them while Jeonghan snatched the bowl into his own hands, filling it up and waiting behind the door that Mingyu was holding onto tightly from the other side of it. Getting it to open just slightly the oldest member threw the water out, not even looking if it would hit him directly - that just happened out of pure luck, making the duo laugh out loud.

[Fun day at the indoor waterpark]

Minnie opened the door fully, now revealing a fully drenched Mingyu in front of her, but she wasn't looking much drier either. He sighed heavily while the girl continued to giggle, following him back into the kitchen, where wide eyes were waiting for them.

"What?" Woozi couldn't stop looking at the three fully submerged in water as if they had just gone swimming with their clothes on.

Mingyu glanced behind him at the girl who was cheekily looking at him.

"Careful." He pointed at her shirt before heading further into the kitchen. Glancing down at her shirt, Minnie realised her white top had turned quite sheer. With her fingers, she managed to get it from sticking too tightly onto her body as she continued to go upstairs to change.

On their way up, Hoshi came from the other direction, stopping to look at her and Jeonghan, who trailed behind.

"What did you do?"

"Making Mingyu fail," the older member giggled, making the girl chuckle.

Wonwoo stood up at the sound of their laughter, putting the guitar he had been clinging onto back on the couch.

"Mingyu's out?" He wondered, getting a nod from the girl and a verbal confirmation from Jeonghan in return.

"Good job, guys." His smile made theirs only widen. Then, he suddenly came to sight with the state of their clothes.

"Wh- Guys!" He chuckled, pointing at Jeonghan and stopping the girl by putting his hand on her elbow. "You did this to make Mingyu fail?"

"Yeah," Minnie told him excitedly.

"Wait-," the maknae looked at them with big eyes. "What did you do?"

"We put water into his meringue," Jeonghan explained.

"He told me to do it!" The female member excused herself by pointing at the older member, getting the infamous 'hehe' out of him. She headed over to her own room, ready to change as she wanted to stop clutching onto her shirt to not let every camera catch just how see-through it had gotten.

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere @iamawkwardandshy

[stealingpotatoes]

some ppl very kindly loredumped abt the organa-solo kids for me so gonna put that + responses below the cut!! ↓

@erkhyan asked:

Don’t mind me, just dropping some Organa Solo kids lore, hopefully summarized enough. Anakin: both motivated and intimidated by the fact that his name was supposed to redeem that of his grandpa. Had his grandpa’s qualities (excellent pilot, great warrior, very strong in the Force) but none of his negative trait. Traumatized by being unable to save Chewie. Died a hero at age 16 during a successful mission to destroy a Jedi-killing weapon. Jacen: a big, empathetic goof as a teen, but was traumatized by the war that killed Anakin. The war and the trauma of Anakin’s death turned him into an introspective monk who went to learn weird non-Jedi Force powers. Returned, fathered a secret daughter, fell to the Dark Side because the Force told him that every timeline in which he’s not a Sith ends badly for his daughter. Became a Sith Lord by killing mara jade Skywalker. Eventually died when he found himself having to choose between saving his daughter from an Imperial plot, and dodging his sister’s lightsaber. Jaina: best pilot, best lightsaber user, best warrior, earned the nickname of Sword of the Jedi. Unfortunately, people mostly remember the fact that she was stuck in the world’s most annoying love triangle for two decades in-universe. And that time she processed the trauma of Anakin’s death by trying to seduce her Jedi Master. And that time she was in a bug hivemind that tried to solve her love triangle with a sexy threesome. And that time she went to train under Boba Fett so that she could kill Jacen in Luke’s stead. And also because the Jedi Order finally recognizing that she should have been a made a Master years ago, was almost the LAST thing that happened in the Legends continuity. Heavily implied that her husband would have eventually become Emperor (but a good one) if the continuity had been allowed to go on.

CHEWIE DIED??????????? also christ thats a lot to put on poor lil anakin jr-- ALSO AGAIN. POOR LEIA. HASNT SHE BEEN THRU ENOUGH (poor han too but LEIA)

WHY ARE THERE MORE STAR WARSES!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!! a secret daughter hi i love those but AGAIN. POOR LEIA. A SITH. FR HE KILLED MARA JADE WHAT???????????? oh my god.

i support jaina's turboslaggery she's been thru so much also WHAT potential emperor husband????????? wow ok legends gets wilder n wilder

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@novastargalaxydesigns asked:

I saw your Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin from Legends! And as someone who freaking adores that trio, I'd love to help point out a few things! In Legends of the Force, Jacen starts to affiliate himself with the Dark Side with his cousin, Ben, as his apprentice. Anakin was killed before the book, The Joiner King, and I didn't get the book that he was killed off in, but if I remember correctly, it was told in The Joiner King that he was killed during a mission as a fighter pilot. Jaina, in Legends of the Force I believe if I remember correctly, she gave up being a Jedi to be a pilot. I don't have all of the Legends of the Force books so I may be a bit spiffy on a few things. But we cannot forget Chewbacca's nephew, Lowbacca aka Lowie, and Jacen's childhood and teen hood crush, Tenel Ka whom is a princess and he accidentally cut her hand off with his new lightsaber during the book Young Jedi Knights Lightsabers. And Zekke who went to the dark side in the series Young Jedi Knights (I only got the first 3), but was redeemed. Anyone please correct my nerdiness if I'm wrong. But anygays, you has been educated by a fluffy bean. Had a lovely day!

JACEN CORRUPTS LUKE'S KID??????? HUH?????? CAN THE SKYWALKERS NOT CATCH LIKE. ONE SINGLE BREAK FROM THE DARKSIDE EVER???????? PLEASE

sorry all i can think w the tenel ka thing is:

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

@m0th-person asked:

To follow up on the solo kids ask, Jaina had a weird love life. Her love interest that she eventually married was Jagged Fel. He is the son of the former baron of the empire , Sootir Fel, and Syal Antilles-Fel (Wedge Antilles sister) . (a picture I found on Wookieepedia when he was imperial head of state, the white streak in the hair seems to be genetic) Jag grew up in Thrawn’s empire of the hand (and was grown up with the chiss expectations, that’s literally the second quote on his wookieepedia page)

he had 3 out of his 5 other siblings die. He eventually became the imperial head of state (he first lost to his rival political candidate for the role because abeloth messed with it) and flash forward to the legacy comics, his descendants have revamped the imperial remnant into the Fel Empire. It’s mostly believed that his descendants are also Jaina’s because both Roan fel and his daughter empress Marasiah Fel are both force sensitive. And Jacen Solo’s descendant , Ania Solo, says she’s a distant cousin of Marasiah. (Roan)

(Marasiah and her love interest) ( the imperial knights were grey Jedi that served the Fel empire) — and in legends Han actually had a family tree (ancestors, specifically, Jonash e solo (who was Corellian royalty and the admiral-prince during the old republic time period)) , and him and Jagged fel’s father used to rivals in the imperial academy. Darth Vader attended his class graduation and I only find this funny because Han became his son-in-law.

jaina was rlly living that booktok enemies to lovers life back in the 90s huh. go girl i love her and support her weird love life decisions so much

omg go han having fancy royalty ties <3 see hanleia IS politically advantageous

[letaliabane]

The Aftermath (CARE FOR SERIES)

Pair: Thorin Oakenshield x Healer!Reader (a pretty short human one too lol) A/N: The fight for Erebor is finally over! The war has been won! However as the mountain and the town of Dale begin to thrive once more, our couple are more apart than ever before, and Thorin is keen for answers. Will they allow themselves the joy of not only peace, but love? Genre: Bouts of angst, but also lots and lots of fluff that we’ve ALL been waiting for (including me), and some good ol’ smut! Warning: brief mentions of abuse/torture, smut (not heavy smut but still a warning just in case) animal death (one hunting scene nothing too details or gorey but just in case) PREVIOUS (The Light Within)

Six months had passed since what was now called the Battle of the Five Armies, inked into the fresh pages of books, told by spokespeople in Dale and within the halls of Erebor. As the dwarves began to return to their mountain and build anew, celebrations began, the ale flowed and rich foods ladled over rows and rows of tables with joyful music ringing through the grand halls of the mountain.

And yet all the while, Thorin, the King to the throne of Erebor, dressed in the finest of furs and sat with food barely touched, could not find it in his heart to celebrate. Not when the woman he longed for was no longer by his side.

The days that followed the end of the war were a blur of pain. He vaguely remembered Kili calling your name from afar. 

It was only after he had substantially recovered that he was informed by his youngest nephew of what had occurred between Y/N and the dwarf who had guarded his door. He did not resist dealing the appropriate punishment to them. 

With Oin being firm in stressing his need for rest and proper recovery, Thorin had sent members of the company, either alone or in pairs, to look in search of her, to bring her back to him. All returning with no such luck. 

And though the duties of being King rested heavily on his shoulders more than ever before, his thoughts often still drifted to her. Her wonderful laugh that had his heart soaring, her glowing smile that had long ago captured his heart, her kindness, her bravery. Her stubbornness matched his own. How all he wished was to up and leave to find her, and somehow encourage her to return to his side—

'Thorin?'

He turned towards Balin who sat on his right, his face drawn in concern.

'Are you all right laddie? You've barely eaten anything tonight and been quiet.'

'Have a lot on my mind is all Balin. Nothing to worry about,' Thorin said with a forced smile, taking a long sip from his ale.

'You'd think with the war over you wouldn't have too much on your mind.' Dwalin piped up from next to his brother, stabbing into the meat on his plate. 

'Unlike you Dwalin I have a kingdom to take care of. My mind will never settle.' Balin quickly spoke up. 'Be that as it may, you should take the time to celebrate your victories my King. After all you have fought for you deserve this more than anyone else.' 

Seeing Dwalin had turned to other conversation, Thorin muttered quietly, 'I cannot celebrate when I have not undone all my wrongdoings... I cannot celebrate with who I truly wish for most.' 

Balin halts mid-mouthful, quickly putting down his cutlery. 'Thorin we have looked high and low for that lass and sent the best trackers after her. If she wished to be found we would have found her by now.' 

The King slammed his fist down onto the table angrily. 'It's not good enough!' 

There was a dreadfully long pause between them, thankfully no attention drawn away from the merriment as the crowd continued to drink, laugh and dance. 

He sighed heavily, turning back to his advisor. 'I'm sorry Balin, I did not mean that.'

'It's quite all right laddie. All I wish to say is that maybe we let her have her peace. It's the very least she deserves.' 

Without another word, Balin turned back to his plate, continuing to eat quietly. Thorin sighs heavily, nails digging into the wood of the table. His thoughts wandered once more to Y/N, and then it struck him. 

He shot to his feet, shocking those around him as he left the table without a word, ignoring those who called out after him as he left the Great Hall. 

Making his way to where the ravens roosted, he knew there was one person whom he could summon for assistance.

Gandalf trudged through the grand marble halls of Erebor, led by Dwalin and Kili through the mountain city. He had received an urgent letter by raven requesting his presence with the King

'Do you have any clue of why I was summoned?' The wizard addressed Kili who shook his head. 'No Gandalf! It was a surprise to see you at the gate! I'm guessing that it's business to only do with Uncle.'

'Which is what I'm afraid of ...' He grumbled quietly to himself.

After moving through multiple winding corridors and staircases, he was led into a small but lavish study. The walls were lined with bookcases filled with books, an oak carved table and matching chairs fitted with red velvet cushions sat in the middle of the room while a roaring fireplace warmed the room.

Just as the elderly wizard made himself comfortable at the table, the large doors opened revealing King Thorin.

'Gandalf, I apologise if I've kept you waiting,' The King called out, shutting the doors behind him before entering the room.

'Not at all Thorin! Or should I say your Majesty?' Gandalf jested to which Thorin chuckled.

'That is not needed here between us Gandalf,' he said as he sat himself down at the other end of the table, 'I know my request for your visit was sudden, and I'm aware that I've already asked plenty from you during our travels. But I needed to attend to a matter of urgency that I believed required your expert hand.'

'Oh? And what might that be?'

Thorin sighed. 'I need your assistance in finding Y/N.'

Gandalf's eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 'Oh? Is that so?'

'Don't play coy with me Gandalf. I've been told that you were seen taking her away from Erebor while I was injured. I've been searching and searching, and I haven't found her. All I want ... All I want is to see her again.'

Gandalf took a moment to take in Thorin's appearance. Though he carried himself with confidence, he could see the pain in the King's eyes, the longing. Dark shadows creased beneath his eyes, jaw tight and locked.

'You must understand something Thorin. Y/N has survived through what one could only describe as the depths of hell, and very lucky to have returned. There isn't a day that goes by that she fights to keep the peace she has built for herself. A peace that she lost long ago, and I'm not talking about a place to call home,' Gandalf places his fingertips to his temple. 'But here, and when she feels endangered, she will linger no longer than she needs to.'

At his words, Thorin couldn't help but think back to their journey together. The way she flinched at loud noises, when her grip would tighten on her sword when overwhelmed, how at peace she was in silence when they all had sat upon the boat to Lake Town. His eyes flickered back to Gandalf as he continued.

'If she wishes to remain alone, I ask not only as your friend but also as her Guardian, that you leave her be.'

Immediately the King felt anger swell within him, the impending roar to command his authority. But as the thought of Y/N swept over his mind, the anger dulled, instead understanding overwhelmed him.

For so long he had only wished for peace away from the kingdoms, away from responsibility. He knew what that longing was like. It was the feeling he felt when he saw her among the company. Her gentle yet fierce nature, a beacon of hope so bright within the darkness that seeped into all of their lives. If anything it would kill him to take that feeling away from her.

Thorin stood to his feet and found himself in front of Gandalf, kneeling (as best he could with his newfound injuries) before him. 'As King, I swear to you.'

The old wizard chuckled, resting his hand on Thorin's shoulder with a firm squeeze, 'Come now my friend, there is no need for all this. We must make our move swiftly and without further hesitation.'

The sun shone down through the thick forests to the West of Erebor, the rustling of leaves moving in the wind, the echo of a stream rolling over rocks nearby, the singing of birds and deers grazing across the hills of rolling green.

All the while, Y/N made sure each step she took was as quiet as possible, avoiding any fallen logs or sticks before hunching down.

The stag she had been tracking for quite some time had come to a halt, grazing at the tall grass.

Pushing the single braided parting behind her ear, she quietly grabbed an arrow from the sheath that hung from her shoulder and pulled it taut in the bow that had hung at her side. And with careful, even perfect precision, as the stag raised its head, she let the arrow fly and hit the stag which immediately fell, twitching before going still.

With a sigh of relief and a smile of victory, she rushed over, first making sure that the animal was no longer suffering before pulling the arrow free from its side. Wrapping the animal up carefully, she shrugged it over the back of her horse, Shadow, a black stallion that she had tied to a tree not too far away. Making sure the animal was secure, Y/N took Shadow by the reigns and led him back onto the forest path.

Soon she found herself in familiar sights, turning off onto a small path leading to a small stone cottage by the lakeside surrounded by blooming white daisies. A vegetable patch had been put together at the front, the first signs of growing carrots peaking from beneath the earth, bright strawberries and raspberries sprouting from bushes to Y/N's delight, growing plentifully in the new season.

This was her new home.

She pulled her horse into the small stable which she had recently finished constructing. After removing the saddle and gear she gave Shadow a quick brush down.

'Thank you girlie, you did well today,' She whispered, giving it one last pat before filling up the horse's bucket with some of the freshly picked carrots from earlier that day. She couldn't help but smile as the horse's head disappeared into the bucket immediately, devouring its treat.

With a huff, she picked up the stag and began to carry it to the front of the cottage, only coming to a quick halt at the sight of the door standing ajar. She most definitely locked it before leaving on her hunt.

Immediately she dropped the stag to the ground, pulling her sword from her hip before pushing forward, kicking the door open. With a quick scan of the room, she found nothing amiss, nothing moved - nothing astray.

'My girl put that away!'

She couldn't help the scream that left her, turning to find Gandalf sitting in the armchair by the fireplace which had only moments ago been empty.

'Gandalf! How many times have I told you to inform me of your arrival! You always have some way of frightening me,' She screeched, angrily putting her sword back in its sheath.

'And where is the fun in that Y/N?' The elder chuckled as she brought the stag into the house, placing it in a corner of the room where she butchered her hunt.

Y/N rolled her eyes, unable to help chuckling, moving towards the kitchens putting a kettle on the stove. 'What brings you here Gandalf? Your letters made me think I wouldn't see you for a while!'

She heard him sigh heavily, hearing the creak of the chair as he stood to his feet, 'Well I've travelled quite the ways to see you. From Erebor.'

'Oh?' Y/N said, keeping her back to the wizard, hiding her shock. 'Royal business I'm assuming.'

'Yes, actually having to do with you my dear.'

'With me? What do you mean ––'

The crash of pots broke the heavy silence that followed, having slipped from Y/N's hand. She had turned back to face the wizard, only to see the one dwarf she had hoped not to see again standing behind him. Dressed in his old travelling clothes, familiar from their journey shared together, his hair down and rippling over his shoulders.

Y/N huffed. 'Gandalf ––'

'My dear ––'

'You promised!' She gasped, stepping back into the counter, gripping and digger her nails into it. 'You promised me you would never let him know.'

'I know,' Gandalf said as he stepped up to her, pulling her hands away from the counter into his own, feeling them shake within his hold. 'And I'm sorry. But you know as well as I that you will regret letting him go if you don't at least give him a chance.'

Before the fear over took her he gently placed kiss to her forehead, whispering, 'Be brave, little one, and use the second chance you were blessed with.'

Y/N looked up at Gandalf as he gave her one last smile before leaving her side. After grabbing his staff and hat, he gave Thorin a nod before closing the cottage door behind him.

The silence that ensued was deafening, almost choking the air within the cottage. Y/N's eyes looked everywhere but at Thorin, trying to calm herself.

But Thorin's gaze had never moved from her. It had been so long since he had seen her. The way the sun fell through the window behind her made her shine like a star, and he couldn't help but be mesmerised by her beauty.

'A lovely home you've built Y/N, and all by yourself?'

She glanced towards him, nodding silently, muttering to himself, 'Beautiful.'

As he looked around the room, Y/N took the chance to take him in. She noticed the healed scarring on his face from the war, as well as the cane that he kept at his side putting his weight against it. It seemed he carried more than mere scars from the battle against Azog.

With a sigh, she turned to him, 'Thorin ––'

'If I may speak,' He cut across her quickly. Only when she nodded he moved slowly to her side. 'I understand you ran from Erebor after an incident occurred during my injury.'

'Thorin ––'

'Please Y/N.'

She squeezed her eyes shut, falling silent once more.

'I know why you left. You sought out the one person you knew who would bring you safety and that was yourself. The person you've had to rely on for so many years. I wasn't present in that moment to contend with your fears ... I wish to be someone you could confine in and trust.'

He reached carefully towards her, and when she didn't flinch, he gently caressed her hand. Staring down at this, unable to resist Y/N intertwined their hands together. When she looked up she found Thorin staring past her eyes, his other hand now running across the braid that hid behind her ear still held together by a very familiar bead. His branded bead.

'You still wear it ...'

She smiled. 'Why wouldn't I? Just because I left doesn't mean my heart changed.'

The next few hours flew by. Thorin had helped Y/N skin and prep the stag which she made into a rich stew filled with vegetables from her garden and along with freshly toasted golden bread pulled from the oven. They barely spoke throughout but worked with few words exchanged.

It was after the meal had been devoured, the red wine that Thorin had brought along in his pack was poured and they sat warming by the fireplace that Y/N spoke.

'I know Gandalf already told you most of the story, about my family and all that. I was captured by the orcs and kept under their watch. They enjoyed having a human prisoner for entertainment in their encampment,' She muttered as she fiddled with the dents in her cup. 'But when the fear faded the numbness seeped in and then the anger followed. All I could think about was my family, each of them struck down and for what? Bloodlust? Such a waste ...' 

She lost herself in the flames that climbed across the logs within the fireplace, tears brimming in her eyes. Thorin sighed heavily before placing his hand gently upon hers. Y/N gasped softly at his touch, pulling herself from her thoughts. She squeezed his hand firmly in return. 

'Their faces were ingrained in my mind every day through every lashing, every beating, and every shaming. It fuelled me to do more … to observe, listen and eventually scrape my way to make an escape.'

As silence ensued, Thorin took her in carefully. Her eyes became glazed, lost in the depths of her mind, her memories a prison of pain and destruction. He knew that spiral all too well.

'I lost my younger brother Frerin during the great war against the orcs and Azog. Happened to be the last of the battles that occurred,' He uttered.

Y/N's head shot up in shock. He smiled sadly.

'He had rushed Azog alongside my father. In the tussle, he and his men got separated and pushed back into the woods that circled Moria. It was days later that I found him by the edge of Mirrormere Lake,' His expression became grim, grip tightening around her hand briefly, 'He was face down, eyes gouged, choked on his own blood. I'll never forget the way the blood soaked the earth and stained the waters, the stench of death was .... inescapable. With the weight of my father and brother's death, I was forced to pick up the pieces of my family and people when all I wanted was to kill. To lose myself to darkness and never turn back.'

Thorin's gaze flickered towards the flames within the fireplace. 'I built a wall of stone around my heart because I found that with love comes the greatest price of all. One day we'll lose it, no matter how hard we try we will lose it in some way. That all changed ...'

Y/N's head tilted with curiosity, 'What changed?'

Thorin turned back to her, gulping heavily. 'You came along.'

Y/N couldn't help the gasp that left her lips. He abandoned his cup on the side table to turn his body towards hers, still grasping her hand in his own tightly. 'I know that this scares you Amrâlimê, and to be truthful, I also am frightful. But I just want you to know that not a day goes by where I don't love you and never will stop.'

His words went straight to the pit of her stomach, heat spreading throughout her body like the bowels of a cauldron. Thorin's hand remained in hers, but there was an urgency in the way his fingers tightened around her. Though his eyes have a certain gentleness, there is also something else. A simmering hunger filled with a deep intensity, and before she could say another word, she pushed her lips to his.

Thorin growled against her mouth like a hungry animal satiated yet tempted for more, returning the kiss fiercely and pulling Y/N in close by her hips. Without hesitation, she sat in his lap wrapping her arms around his neck, running her fingertips through his hair.

Clothes are hurriedly stripped away, and when Thorin tosses her tunic aside, he notices the scars that littered Y/N's body, some areas of skin puckered red from the wounds that still healed.

When she noticed his gaze hovering around her body, she couldn't help bringing her arms up to cover herself but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists.

'No don't. You’re a sight to behold, you are ... ethereal,' He muttered, bringing her to stand between his legs, pressing a kiss to her sternum, hands running gently down her back and hips, coming up to caress her breasts. A stuttered gasp left Y/N, head falling back as he pressed kisses upon her breasts, the feeling of his rough hands sending sparks across her body. 

'Oh Thorin,' She breathed, tugging him to his feet before kissing him firmly. His kisses changed, heated, firm and responding with equal fervor. His hands moved below his thighs, lifting her with quick ease before laying her down on the furs before the fireplace.

However, she was quick to roll him onto his back, unable to stop the laugh that escaped her at the brief shock on his face. Thorin was quick to rise and capture her lips once more, smiling against them.

Y/N reached down gripping his cock before sinking down onto him slowly. Both of them gasped against each other's mouths at the sensation, Thorin wrapping his arms around to bring you close, chest to chest, nothing more left between them.

They move together in the throes of passion, hips slapping against one another, sweaty, warm skin, his hands squeezing her hips. She allowed herself to fall against him, forehead pressed to his shoulder as she shuddered in pleasure.

Through the haze, Thorin raised his hips, fucking her deeper, her moans louder before he silenced her with a firm kiss. It's almost too soon that he finds himself strung tight, close to the edge.

She arches against him, chasing the rising tide within her. 'Don’t stop,' she pants, her voice a shaky breathless plea.

Y/N leant forward, hands pressed to his chest, nails digging into his skin as she swiveled her hips harder, Thorin grabbing a handful of your ass. She cries out, eyes rolling back as she collapses against him shakily. He follows quickly behind, burying his cock deep inside her.

In that moment the world faded away, and it was just the two of them. The sounds of heavy breathing and the hiss of fire upon wood filled the air. The broad daylight pouring through the windows had dimmed with the setting of the sun, leaving the room with a peach glow.

Thorin ran his hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. He kissed her cheek, then down her neck, to her shoulder. She trembled against him, her hands wrapped around his shoulders.

Lifting her face, she met Thorin's gaze to find him already watching her, pressing his forehead against hers.

'Amrâlimê, my dearest, my fierce heart,' He said between kisses which he placed along her face, lifting her chin gently to kiss Y/N's lips gently. 'Mine'

Y/N smiled against the corner of his lips, pressing another firm kiss to his lips. 'Yours.'

​FINAL CHAPTER (At Last) CARE FOR TAG LIST:  @alyhull , @bellastellaluna​ , @sdavid09​ , @aidanturnersass​ , @letsbeinspiredby​ , @hiddenmangaka​ , @female-hux​ , @elia-the-bibliophile​ , @fangirlbitch02​ @nickangel13​ @thatteluguchick​

[caityjay13]

Dear Followers,

This is a PSA. Hikaru no Go (2020) is now available to stream on Prime Video. You should watch it.

But Caity, you may ask. Why should I watch this Chinese live action drama based on the popular turn-of-the-millenium Japanese manga and anime of the same name? The answer, my friends, is because it is fucking phenomenal.

Hikaru no Go is my favorite sports anime. It was one of the first manga I ever read. When I own a home someday and have bookshelves, it is one of the only manga series I wish to own in its entirety in print. The story is deeply compelling, moving, funny, relatable. It truly has something I haven't found in another animanga in twenty years.

And the Chinese live action adaptation takes that perfect, beautiful source material and creates something equally perfect and beautiful (if not more so? feels blasphemous to say, but boy howdy I'm not NOT saying it).

The way in which the original Japanese story—the characters, the culture, the game of go—is translated into Chinese is really masterfully executed. The story is incredibly faithful to the original, and when it does differ, it does so in really creative, thoughtful ways that really work.

The actors fucking nail it. Honestly all of them, but I'm looking at the kids in the first two episodes in particular. Blown away by the performances of a couple of ten-year-olds. Kids have a bright future ahead of them, damn.

This show has the budget. If y'all know me at all, you know I'll enjoy a low-budget wuxia flick because it's a good time, but damn, if I had standards, they would be met and exceeded by this show. The hair, the makeup, the costumes, the effects (there is an effect every time the "ghost" is on screen where he is partially translucent. It is perfectly executed and incredibly impressive, at least to my layman eyes). The very first opening credits scene is super beautiful, the end credits are beautiful, it's all just so pretty and polished and feels good on my eye holes.

Honestly, I cannot gush enough about this show. It ranks up with Nirvana in Fire in my heart (which I do not say lightly, considering I went through my entire list and lowered the ratings I'd given each show accordingly after I first watched nif so that the 10 weighed more heavily).

tl;dr: If you liked the hikago animanga, you should watch this show. If you never read/watched hikago, you should watch this show. If you did not like hikago, you should watch this show. Please watch this show, I am begging you.

Sincerely, A Rabid Hikago Fangirl

[miirshroom]

Devil May Cry: The Animated Series (2007) - Dissecting Episode 8 "Once Upon a Time"

A.k.a. spending many words addressing what I feel is a much dismissed episode of the 2007 anime.

Ep 8 "Once Upon A Time" is a Vergil backstory episode. From what I've seen over the years, this apparently flies over the heads of even people familiar with all other works in Devil May Cry canon. But I think that this episode deserves re-evaluation, because it is really very consistent with how Vergil is portrayed both in DMC 3 and in his more recent re-appearance in DMC 5.

The premise of the episode is that a man named Earnest heard that his old friend Anthony had resurfaced running a business called Devil May Cry. He had fallen out of contact with Anthony 20 years ago following a fire that burned to the ground the port town called Morris Island where they lived - killing the majority of the population. The fire was claimed by survivors to be caused by a demon attack on the island. Dante denies meeting Earnest before. He goes along with Earnest to visit the town anyways because he wants to know who is putting Earnest up to this.

Consulting the various pieces of evidence.

1) Dante is not usually known for lying (except for withholding information), and yet he says repeatedly "I'm not the Anthony you are looking for". That's a pretty odd way to phrase his denial, but it makes sense when you realize why the show can't just outright say "that wasn't me, but it might have been my identical twin brother". A conceit of the show is that it never once acknowledges in words that Dante had a twin brother. The show is allergic to saying the name "Vergil" (not even once!), which made it surreal to watch as an introduction to the series in 2007 and to later learn "oh, he has a twin brother!....OH NO he has a dead twin brother!" Because of the way that in retrospect it's obvious that Vergil haunts the narrative in at least half of the episodes.

This is almost the exact same way that Vergil is handled in DMC 4, where he's very plot relevant despite his name never being spoken. The Yamato belonged to "Dante's brother" - that's the extent to which anyone acknowledges him in words. Because the writers have decided to address the question of "how do you make the viewers aware of the past escapades of the characters without wasting screen-time on exposition dumps" with the answer of: "Don't! :)"

Real people don't start off every new relationship by explaining their tragic backstory - so when characters like Patty and Nero are introduced they are surrogates for the fraction of the audience who did not play the previous games or read the books and are reacting to the mysterious figure of Dante from an outsider perspective.

2) This point is one of the weakest (because it only works in hindsight), but it should be said that as of DMC 5 and Visions of V it is known that the demon attack on Morris Island is entirely separate and unrelated to the demon attack on the Sparda mansion near Redgrave City. It is also heavily implied that Dante was constantly up in Vergil's business - making it unlikely that Vergil could keep a secret friend from Dante and also have that friend never find out about his twin brother.

Plus there is the timeline to consider. DMC 1 takes place 20 years after the attack on the Sparda mansion. Morris Island takes place 20 years before this episode of the anime. There is a gap of at least a few years between DMC 1 and the anime considering that there was enough time for Trish to partner with Dante, change the shop name, and then for Trish to leave and the shop name to change back. So even the timelines don't match up if these 20-year time spans are strictly correct rather than vague approximations of time.

3) Dante has a completely separate backstory about where he ended up after his family home burned down in a fire and he was separated from Vergil. Because of the shock and to protect himself he buried his real identity in amnesia for like 8-10 years and created an identity as Tony Redgrave. He became a regular human mercenary and unaware of demons until suddenly he was pulled back into it and forced to remember. This is covered in the DMC 1 novel. The DMC 1 novel has been more decisively folded into canon as of references to its events in DMC 5: Before the Nightmare. In contrast, Vergil's whereabouts during the same time period were a mystery. What would have been the point of giving Dante a new personal history set in a small port town when you can instead take the opportunity to fill in the blanks on the person whose past is unknown?

Basically, the writers take it for granted that there is a tacit understanding with the fans that they will be faithful in writing Dante's character to the extent that is possible. Thinking that the viewers understand that the 2007 anime is not an adaptation of any previous works and has no desire to re-tread those previous works. The version of Dante as he appears in DMC 3 and subsequently in the anime is written as the character he would be if he experienced the events laid out in the DMC 1 prequel novel. Anything that they've retconned is exclusively related to Vergil - Vergil was not abducted by Mundus as a child and Vergil did not experience the events of the DMC 1 novel (and is unaware of Gilver in general). So if those things did not happen - then what replaced them? The way that anime Ep 8 and DMC 4 are written imply that the writers already had ideas about the answers (it's only 3 years between DMC 3 in 2005 and DMC 4 in 2008), but outside of more prequels there is no graceful way to deliver information about a character who is canonically dead - everything about their thoughts and intentions is filtered through 2nd and 3rd hand unreliable sources.

Even so, Visions of V re-creates the singular kid Vergil scene that was shown in the DMC 3 manga. In that case the scene takes the form of a surreal nightmare that is forced on him by the demons that he is conversing with in the present. It's surreal in the sense of the symbolism of being naked and afraid and stabbed to a gravestone with your own name on it.

Whereas the Visions of V version positions itself as a more straightforwards narrative account of the event. Vergil chooses to acknowledge what he was really thinking and feeling that day as a step towards working past it:

4) Earnest and "Anthony" had a favourite teacher - Margaret - so they seem to have both had a scholarly inclination. The unique cutscene introducing the Vergil playable route in DMC 3:SE (and at multiple points in the DMC 3 manga) shows him browsing books in a library.

The plot of the episode is that Earnest has an ill-begotten plan to open a portal to Hell and summon a demon. Dante tries to talk him out of it and is unsuccessful. This is a smaller scale version of what Vergil did in DMC 3. The parallels - they are here.

5) The kid in the photo that Dante sees at Earnest's house is wearing a blue/black jacket and red shirt. Blue with red interior lining being the colours associated with Vergil at the time of DMC 3, but even more directly with Nero in DMC 4. Morris Island is a port town. Fortuna is a port town on an island. This anime was being written and produced during the same timeframe as DMC 4.

6) Earnest and "Anthony" buried a box of treasures as children and it was a secret between the two of them. The box that Dante digs up has a scratched out name on a field of blue. The first letter of the name is a cursive "V". How did Dante know where the box was? Dante and Vergil were twins and were still similar enough at age 10 or so that Dante could guess where Vergil would have hidden something. They were similar enough that they both chose the same name of Anthony/Tony when they tried to obscure their identity. The identity confusion is a feature, not a bug - it's part of the tragic irony. It's toying with the same question as DMC 5: if their positions were switched, would their fates be different?

Dante does not care about Earnest. At all. At least, beyond the point that he's a person about to do something foolish that could get himself and a lot of other people killed. Dante is doing the bare minimum to humor this man - so if not because of some gesture related to their "friendship", why even dig up the box? For the same reason that he went to visit the town: curiosity. He was looking for proof of Vergil's existence in the world before that one time he showed up when they were 18 talking about a lunatic plan to raise a demon tower and open the connection between human and demon worlds (DMC 3 manga), and then at age 19 actually went through with that plan while revealing that the point of it all was to gain more power (DMC 3), followed shortly by throwing himself into Hell while severely injured at the end of DMC 3. What would motivate a person to do these things?

7) This port town being burned down in a fire caused by a demon attack explains a lot about the psychology of Vergil, in ways that would not be explicitly confirmed until DMC 5 and Visions of V. He's motivated by his fear. He did not hide from Mundus as successfully as Dante, and even when he tried to reinvent himself as a different person the demons caught up with him. Dante lived through one tragic fire and loss of home and safety and he knows how devastating it is - but he repressed the memory and moved on from it in his own uniquely dysfunctional way. Vergil experienced at least this 2nd attack, which begs the question of how many more times did it happen that Dante is unaware of? How badly would it damage a person to live in fear of being constantly hunted and unable to stay in any place for very long or form lasting attachments to other people? Dante can relate to this a bit given his own personal tragedies, although unlike Vergil he has a handful of people like Lady and Trish to keep him grounded though the years.

But for Vergil it can be extrapolated that he was forced to be alone after any attempt to get close to normal people ended in further tragedy, and it seems like the demons won't stop hunting him until either he is dead or the mastermind sending the demons to hunt him is dead. This evolves into an obsession with power, detachment from human social connection, and willingness to make the decision that a city worth of humans is acceptable collateral damage so long as it gets him that power and opportunity to end Mundus.

If there is a single detail that calls in to doubt that Ep 8 is about actual Vergil post-separation from Dante, it is that "Anthony and his mother" lived in the village. On the other hand, the inclusion of this detail seems as much designed to baffle Dante as it does the viewer. This could be a hook for Dante that has him doubting Earnest's story and/or his own memory because he was certain that their mother died at the same time that Dante and Vergil were separated. However, although there are photographic records of "Anthony" in the town there don't seem to be any of this "mother", and her name is never given.

So if indeed "Anthony" was Vergil, then this mother figure is a continuing mystery. The possibility is that Vergil was accompanied by a woman who was a mentor to him in some way, similar to Dante with Nell Goldstein. Could have been a magical mentor - how did he learn to fling about spectral swords anyways? Impossible to say for certain (i.e. more flexible for future use as a plot point), but if Patty and Morrison from the anime are canon then this suggests that other things set up in the 2007 anime could get a callback if ever there was a DMC6.

As for the purpose of this episode in the context of the anime - it would have been deliberately designed as an attack on Dante by Sid - the mischief maker of the series who is advancing a background demon resurrection plot. One of the times that Dante confronts him Sid says "In the end you were drawn here by the smell of a devil weren't you?" before backflipping off the balcony as the scene lights up with blue lightning.

What is it that Vergil says in the Mission 13 fight in DMC 3 the first time he uses his devil trigger: "You will not forget this devil's power".

This whole episode is a twist of the knife to deliver a reminder that Dante and Vergil weren't so different once, that kid Vergil probably missed their mother as much or more than Dante because he didn't have the luxury of willing himself into amnesia, and that while Dante managed to make it to adulthood before demons found their way back into his life Vergil was not so lucky. Understanding some of the reasons that drove Vergil to obsessively seeking power only makes it worse that Dante was now twice responsible for unknowingly playing into Mundus plans by severely injuring Vergil in a fight to the death in DMC 3, and then by killing him instead of saving him in DMC 1.

Bonus: Even the alcohol gets in on the theme. Dante in his own home office enjoys a "Budweiner" beer with his buddy Morrison as he gets the details about Morris Island. The end credits show him with a glass of "Back Janiels" liquor - these are his usual tastes. When he visits Earnest's house it is just after seeing that photograph of (presumably) kid Vergil that he is offered a glass of red wine.

This is some classic gothic imagery where red wine evokes the look of blood. The last time that Dante and Vergil fought (intentionally - not counting when Vergil was under the control of Mundus) it was over what it means that they have the blood of Sparda. And blood is present in the lyrics of the lesser demon battle music that plays through Missions 2-13 right up to the scene where Vergil is trying to open the gate.

... Taste the blood, Taste your fate, Swallow your pride, With your hate, ... Knee's in the blood with your crying pleas, Wade in your sorrow, bathe in your fear, Clear the mind of the righteousness suffered, Witness the moment of your failure's prosper!

[carleycore]

When they insult you (Osamu and Kageyama)

A/N It's been a while since I've done this series so hehe

Genre: Hurt/comfort Angst

Warnings: Insults obvi

Part one Part two Part three Part four

(being too clingy)

The bustling noise of Onigiri Miya's kitchen is a familiar symphony to you. You sit at the counter, watching Osamu expertly prepare a new batch of rice balls. His usual focused expression is slightly strained today, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to the long hours he has been working lately.

"Do you need any help, 'Samu?" you ask, hoping to ease his burden.

Osamu barely glances at you, shaking his head. "No, I got it," he replies curtly.

You frown but decide to give him space. You know running a restaurant is stressful, and Osamu has been pushing himself too hard. You want to be there for him, to support him, but he has been increasingly distant.

"Are you sure?" you press gently. "I can help with the orders, or maybe clean up a bit."

"I said no, (Y/N)," Osamu snaps, his voice sharp. "Just stay out of the way."

Taken aback, you recoil as if you have been struck. Hurt flashes across your face, but you bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. "Okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

You stand up, intending to give him the space he seems to need, but Osamu's next words stop you in your tracks.

"Why do you always have to be so clingy?" he mutters under his breath, though loud enough for you to hear. "I can’t deal with this right now. You’re just making things harder by hovering."

Tears well up in your eyes. "Clingy?" you repeat, your voice trembling. "I'm just trying to help, Osamu. You've been working non-stop, and I thought you could use some support."

"Well, you're not helping," he retorts, slamming a rice ball onto the counter. "You're just making everything more stressful by constantly being here and trying to do things your way."

The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating. You stare at him, your heart aching. Without another word, you turn and leave the restaurant, the bell above the door jingling sadly as it closes behind you.

Hours pass, and the sun has long since set by the time Osamu finally closes up for the night. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him, but the memory of your hurt expression gnaws at his conscience. He knows he has crossed a line.

When he arrives at your apartment, he hesitates for a moment before knocking. The door opens slowly, and you stand there, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Hey," Osamu says softly, his voice filled with regret.

You look at him, a mix of sadness and anger in your eyes. "What do you want, Osamu?"

"I wanted to apologize," he says, stepping closer but stopping when he sees you tense. "I was out of line. You were just trying to help, and I lashed out. I’m so sorry, (Y/N)."

You cross your arms, looking away. "You really hurt me, Osamu," you say quietly. "I know you're stressed, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that."

"I know," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "I've been under a lot of pressure, but that's no excuse. I should have appreciated your help instead of pushing you away."

A tear slips down your cheek, and Osamu reaches out, gently wiping it away with his thumb. "I love you, (Y/N)," he says earnestly. "I don’t want to lose you because of my stupid mistakes."

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. Slowly, you uncross your arms and step closer. "I love you too, Osamu," you murmur. "But you need to let me in. We're a team, remember?"

Osamu nods, pulling you into his arms. "I promise I’ll do better," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want to push you away ever again."

You hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace soothing your aching heart. "Just talk to me next time, okay?" you whisper. "We’ll get through it together."

Osamu holds you close, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. "I will," he vows. "Together."

As you stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, the hurt begins to melt away, replaced by a renewed sense of closeness and understanding. You know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as you face them together, you'll be okay.

(misplaced anger)

You stand by the kitchen counter, finishing up the dishes from dinner. The clinking of plates and running water are the only sounds in the otherwise quiet apartment. It's been a long day for both of you, and the tension in the air is palpable. Kageyama sits at the dining table, staring intently at his phone, his brows furrowed in frustration.

"Tobio, is everything okay?" you ask, drying your hands on a towel. "You seem upset."

"I'm fine," he replies curtly, not looking up from his phone.

You sigh, walking over to him. "You don't seem fine. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me."

He finally looks up, his eyes dark with irritation. "I said I'm fine, (Y/N). Why do you always have to make everything a big deal?"

His words sting, but you try to remain calm. "I'm just worried about you. You've been on edge lately, and I want to help."

"Help?" he scoffs, standing up abruptly. "The only thing you're doing is making things worse. I don't need you hovering over me all the time."

Your heart aches at his harsh tone. "I'm just trying to be there for you, Tobio. We're supposed to support each other."

"Support?" he snaps, his voice rising. "All you do is nag and worry. It's suffocating, (Y/N). Sometimes, I just need space."

The words hang heavily in the air, each one cutting deeper than the last. Tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them away, not wanting to break down in front of him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I didn't realize I was making you feel that way."

Kageyama's expression softens slightly, but his frustration is still evident. "I just... I need some time to myself, okay?"

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Okay, I'll give you space."

Without another word, you turn and leave the room, heading to the bedroom. You close the door behind you and sink onto the bed, tears streaming down your face. The ache in your chest is overwhelming, and you clutch a pillow tightly, trying to find some comfort in its softness.

Hours pass, and the apartment remains silent. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of Kageyama's words pressing heavily on your heart. You want to support him, to be there for him, but it feels like everything you do is wrong.

A soft knock on the door breaks the silence. "Y/N?" Kageyama's voice is gentle, hesitant. "Can I come in?"

You sit up, wiping your tears away. "Yeah."

The door opens slowly, and he steps inside, his expression filled with regret. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have said those things. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It's not your fault."

You look at him, your eyes still glistening with tears. "I just wanted to help, Tobio. I hate seeing you stressed."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I've been under a lot of pressure with training and everything, but that's no excuse for how I treated you. You were just trying to be supportive, and I pushed you away."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "I love you, Tobio. I want to be there for you, but you need to let me in. We’re a team."

He squeezes your hand, his eyes filled with guilt and affection. "I love you too, (Y/N). I'm sorry for hurting you. I'll do better, I promise."

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. He holds you tightly, his warmth comforting and familiar. "Just talk to me next time, okay?" you whisper against his shoulder. "We’ll get through it together."

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I will. Together."

As you hold each other, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a renewed sense of closeness and understanding. You know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as you face them together, you'll be okay.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty-six of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 8.3K

Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. , Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Self Deprecating Thoughts, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/n: I know that this isn't the final battle, but I wrote most of the battle and the chapter was so long (it was over 13K and I wasn't close to ready) that I needed to break it up. So now this is just a wonderful helping of angst in which the reader and Ben do the thing that they do best… fight with each other and then make up.

READER POV

The silence that follows Homelander's disappearance with Lou and Rosemary's pursuit after him is deafening. It feels like hours have passed, but it's only been seconds. You feel cold and hot, nothing and everything. Fear, anger, anxiety, and terror all congeal into an ice cold ball in the pit of your stomach. Rubble is covering the thick shag carpet on the bedroom floor, the air filled with flecks of dust and drywall from Homelander's departure. You weren't thinking about how Legend would react though, couldn't think of anything else except the fearful look on Lou's face when Homelander grabbed her and refused to release her.

The thought that Lou was trapped with someone like him broke you. The fear that came with the thought was almost mind-numbing, because Homelander was dangerous and now that Ben and you had told him that you didn't want anything to do with him, there were no other bargaining chips. Homelander couldn't be placated because you had crushed the glimmer of hope in his eyes by telling him that he wasn't your son and that he was monster. You knew that Homelander was smart enough that he wouldn't believe you now if you promised him family, not when he had Lou and probably had Rosemary.

Rosemary had minimal training when it came to fighting, yes you'd made sure that she knew the basics of self-defense, but she'd never fought another supe before. She was never interested in that sort of thing. And it wasn't always about using your powers when it came to fighting another supe, it was about tactics and knowing the weaknesses of your opponent. In a fight with someone like Homelander, you couldn't just rely on your abilities, you had to understand what you were up against and see the little ticks that he tried to hide. You'd watched stronger supes fall because they relied too heavily on their abilities, and you worried that Rosemary would be the same way. That she would be filled with a blind rage because Homelander had Lou and that he would use her anger and frustration to his advantage.

Tears were streaming down your face and you were still struggling in Ben's grip, where his arms were wrapped around you, holding you back from chasing after them. And the longer he holds you, as more seconds tick by, everything else goes and you're left with something else.

To say that you were angry was an understatement, you were livid. You hated that Ben had done this to you again. That once again Ben was acting like you weren't a supe, like you weren't powerful, and like you needed to be locked away from the world in a glass cabinet. You were sick of it.

Because you understood that Ben loved you, that he wished to protect you and that he feared losing you, but you refused to allow him to walk on eggshells around you and put you in a glass bubble because of his insecurities.

Yes Ben had told you that he saw your strength in the past, that he saw how powerful you were, and only wished for you to need him, but you were done with this. He didn't have any right to do it. And yes, he was the man you loved, but he was not your master. Perhaps that's what made all this worse for you, that Ben said how much he loved you and that he saw your power, but every time things went South he did shit like this.

"Ben, let me go." You growl, turning your head to look over your shoulder.

"No. Not until you promise not to go after them." Ben's eyes are narrowed. He knew that if you promised him, you wouldn't do it, that you cared too much about what a promise represented to break one.

It was true, which was why you weren't going to promise him shit.

"I won't promise that."

"Then I guess I'm not letting you go." He says it casually, but the look in his eyes is meant to convey that he is just as upset with this turn of events as you are.

"Oh I think you fucking will." Your teeth clench together and as you say it, you turn your palms face down in front of you and break his hold. Having Homelander's strength made it easier to face Ben. In the past the two of you had sparred together in training. Back then you didn't think too much about it, but now you understood that he did it to make sure you knew how to protect yourself when he wasn't there, that he worried about you more than he wanted to say and that was the only way he could prepare you without telling you how much you meant to him.

Ben stumbles back a step, his eyes flashing with anger and you’re sure that he can see the same emotions written on your face.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snarl at him.

“My problem?” Ben sputters.

“Yes!”

“What the fuck are you talking about? If anything it’s you that’s having a problem-“

“Oh I’m sorry Benjamin. Am I being difficult?" You press a hand to your chest feigning remorse. "Forgive me for having a fucking problem when our granddaughter has just been KIDNAPPED by a psychopath. And our daughter is going to face him alone!"

"She's not alone-"

"Wrong. She is alone, because you wouldn't let me help her."

"I told you that I didn't want you to fight him alone. I told you that we would do this together-"

"I wouldn't have been alone if you'd stop being so damn overprotective!" You snap, stomping over to the chest of drawers, searching through them angrily for something to wear. It was difficult not to rip the handle off the front in your anger. You were still wearing your sweatpants and an oversized paint splattered t-shirt, and the last thing you wanted was to face Homelander looking like that.

Why can't he just understand that I am powerful too? Why can’t he let me go for once? Why does he keep doing this?

You hated that he was acting like you couldn't handle yourself, especially after he had seen you destroy Legend's backyard single handedly the other day with your mind. You were so sick of being underestimated. First Vought, then Stan, and now Ben, and you didn't want to be seen that way anymore. You were powerful and damnit you weren't going to "sit" and "stay" because some man ordered you to.

"I am not being overprotective!" Ben's voice is a low growl. "The other day I told you that I didn't want you to do this by yourself, that I didn't want you to do any of this alone. That I'm here-"

"Well congratulations Ben! Our daughter is doing exactly that right now, facing fucking Homelander alone, because you couldn't just let me go." You grab the end of your shirt and take it off, shucking it to the floor before you begin to put on the tight long sleeved black t-shirt. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Underestimate me!" You take off the sweatpants and quickly step into the dark jeans. By now your eyes were flashing bright purple and you could feel the thrum of your abilities under your skin, begging to be released. The energy was growing with each passing second, the lights in the room flickered and you could feel an unnatural breeze rustling the curtains that were hanging from the windows, coming from you.

"I do not fucking underestimate you. I know how powerful you are-"

"Well you have a funny way of showing it." You spit turning around to face him again.

Ben is also getting dressed. His sweatpants have been replaced with the bottom portion of his supe suit, his knife, pistol, and top half of his suit is laying on the unmade bed. "We have already talked about why I have a problem with you doing shit like that alone." His words are almost a growl, but you can hear an emotion on the edge of them that isn't anger. It was worry.

You knew what he was referring to, when he told you that he hated watching you die because it made him feel like he'd failed to protect you, that every time you were hurt, Ben struggled with that.

You knew how he felt.

The other day at Herogasm when Homelander had him by the throat all you saw was red. You didn't want to witness Ben's last moments just as he had witnessed yours multiple times. But it didn’t mean that you held Ben back from doing what he needed to do. You saw his strength and supported him. All you wanted was for him to support you.

A part of you deep down registered that he acted like this to protect you, that he didn't want to lose you as much as you didn't want to lose him. And as happy as you were that Ben was finally getting comfortable showing and talking about his emotions in front of you, you still wished that he would let you be strong for yourself. You had to be strong without him for forty years, protecting Rosemary and Lou.

Does he really think that Stan and Countess are the only people who I've killed in the past forty years? That there haven't been other people and supes that figured it out? Did Homelander really think that Stormfront's death was a suicide? 

"You let me face the twins!" You shout.

"Those incestuous fucks couldn't handle you when they were full powered, let alone when they were dried out." Ben states pulling his shirt over his head.

"I don't understand why Homelander is any different." You cross the room to grab the long dark green leaver overcoat, the same one that Ben had scraped the blood and bits of flesh off when you returned to Legend's after you killed Stan. "You saw me handle him the other day-"

"Because he is different!" Ben practically stabs his knife down into it's holster on his belt.

"Oh really?" You tap your lip as if deep in thought. "Huh. Because I remember you calling him a pussy when you were thinking about killing him. When you told me that Butcher asked you to."

"He is." Ben's eyes are blazing now.

Your sarcasm always did that to him, and it did tend to rear it's ugly head in the most inopportune moments. In all the years you'd known him, Ben never really did like it when you got like that.

The room was quickly heating with the force of Ben’s anger, a slight glow radiating out from his chest, but Ben was keeping it under control. At least for now.

"Oh, so he is a pussy, but not when I have to fight him?"

"Yes." He seethes through clenched teeth.

"I hate to break this to you Benjamin, but of the two of us, I'm the one who has fought him and kicked his fucking ass." You spit back at him, sick of his attitude.

Ben crosses the room in two heavy strides so that he's standing over you, his hands on his hips. "The only reason why you fucking fought him, was because you felt the need to step in when I had him handled."

"Did you have him handled? Could have fooled me. When someone has you by the throat I find it hard to say that you have a handle on the situation!" You mirror his stance, refusing to back down.

"Don't fucking do that."

"Do what?"

"Be sarcastic! You know that I hate it."

"That's just too damn bad!" You snap. "I'm not your dog Benjamin  you cannot tell me what to do."

"I do not treat you like a damn dog. I will say that you're being bitchy." His teeth are grinding together, so hard that you can audibly hear it.

"Well excuse the fuck out of me! I think I'm allowed to be bitchy," You seethe the word. "Because you're acting like a sexist dick!"

"I am not-"

"Yes you are." You poke your finger into his chest. "And I don’t want you to come with me."

"Like fucking hell I'm going to sit here and wait around for you to come back."

"I don't want you to come with me because I don't want to spend the whole fucking time worried that you're going to get in my fucking way and prevent me from doing what I have to do."

"I do not get in your way." Ben roars.

"Yes you do." Your eyes narrow. "And I don't need some "big strong man" to do things for me!" You make air quotes around 'big strong man' to emphasize the point, but Ben was not getting it.

This was one of the worst fights you'd ever had with him, you knew that. The two of you had many over the years, Legend was not lying when he told Butcher that, but this one was quickly nearing the same magnitude as the fight the two of you had the night of the premiere. This was more than just the two of you going through the motions of being frustrated with one another and more than the two of you shouting over a little problem, this was about Ben's continuous need to hold you back and keep you out of harms way like you weren't a supe and perfectly capable of doing thing by yourself.

"All I do is try to protect you." His eyes are dark now, not a trace of green in them, looking more like darkened pits. When Ben was really angry you'd seen them go that dark before, only the night of the premiere had you seen them like that when he looked at you, all the other times you'd seen that look when he felt the need to put someone in their place, to beat them into submission.

"I don't need you to protect me!" It comes out in one breath, uttered in an exasperated tone, because again Ben just didn't understand.

Ben stops. "You don't need me?" The words aren't in the same harsh tone that he used before, it's softer, and the anger in his eyes shifts to something else for just a moment.

You could feel regret swirling in your chest, because you did need Ben. You needed him more than life itself, didn't want to spend a moment away from him. You hadn't meant to say it like that. And you know that it was something Ben struggled with, the idea that you didn't need him anymore or never did need him.

"No. Ben, I do fucking need you, but I don't need you to protect me all the time." You emphasize with a sigh. "I've changed. I'm not the same person I was in Philadelphia. I'm not the same little girl. I've been taking care of myself and Rosemary and Lou for years. I needed to change and so I did."

Ben still looks like he can't fully understand what you're trying to say.

"Ben do you really think that Stan is the only person that I've killed in the past forty years?"

Ben blinks surprised.

"There have been others. People who asked too many questions. Supes that just didn't believe the lie that Stan and I made up." You sigh. You weren't ashamed of that, weren't ashamed of the things you had to do to keep your daughter and your granddaughter safe. "You think that every death leaves a scar, but not always." You murmur remembering the fight with Stormfront, the one you never talked about. When she showed up on your doorstep and threatened you and Rosemary. And the others who threatened you, tried to blackmail you because they didn't fear you the way they should have. Stormfront had expected the same woman she knew from the past, but you weren't her anymore.

"What do you mean there have been others?" Ben's expression hardens, malice swimming in his eyes when he realizes that other people have hurt you.

Flashes of the past come creeping up, years you spent with Ben and the cold ones that you'd spent without him stumbling around like someone trying to find light when they were buried underground. And you did love him, but you hated that he did this, because every time he did it made you feel small, it made you feel again like he didn't see you or comprehend who you were.

"They don't matter now." You sigh. "But I am not something to be possessed. I am not someone who’s going to hang on your arm make you look good and laugh at all your jokes. I am not something to be controlled or shielded from the world. If I wanted to just be a trophy or a doll for someone to use any way they wished I would have stayed and married Howard. But I didn’t. I came with you, but I never imagined that you would treat me that way. I never imagined that you would treat me like he did.”

Ben looks stunned. He should. In all the years you’d known him you’d never compared him to Howard like that. It was a low blow and you knew it, but you were pissed. It hurt you to say the words, hurt you to open up that wound all over again, but it was the truth. You didn't lie to Ben and you weren't going to start now.

The words ring through the air between the two of you, the space between your bodies suddenly miles apart even though you were standing in the same room. It was the first time you'd ever felt that distance with him, not since the night he came to your apartment the night that he almost killed Noir and after the two of you talked you cried in the shower frustrated and angry with yourself because you couldn't tell him how you felt and upset that he didn't love you the way you loved him. And now you were just as frustrated and angry with him.

Ben opens his mouth to answer you, the look in his eyes heartbreaking.

"What the fuck happened in here?" Butcher shouts stumbling down the stairs and into the room. He looks disheveled, like he just rolled out of bed.

"Homelander." Your gaze leaves Ben. "He took Lou, Rosemary went after him."

"He took Lou?" Hughie sputters from behind Butcher, fear flitting through his eyes.

It was the same fear that had begun to trickle back in after the fight you just had, but the things that Ben and you had yelled at one another were still there, soaking through the air like a foul odor and seeping in to your heart. You weren't sure if it meant that you could come back from it or not.

"Yeah." Ben grunts.

"Then lets go get her." Butcher says. "Come on." He gestures with his hand and begins to trek up the stairs with Hughie in tow, leaving Ben and you in the bedroom alone once more.

But this time you can't say anything, can't bring yourself to apologize because you're still so damn mad, and so instead you follow after Butcher, without giving Ben a backwards glance.

SOLDIER BOY POV

The car smoothly followed the long stretch of highway under Butcher’s hand, the trees along the road flashing by in a green blur, but it still didn’t seem like it was going fast enough.

It had taken Butcher and Hughie ten minutes to get ready after they stumbled downstairs to where Ben and you were and now the four of you were on the road and driving to New York. Hughie and Butcher were in the front seat while Ben and you sat in the back, but unlike the other day when you drove to Herogasm together, you were sitting on the other side of the car, arms crossed over your chest staring out the window, and not touching him at all.

Ben's jaw clenched when he remembered the day you drove together to Herogasm, when he held your hand and you leaned into his shoulder, reveling in the fact that you wanted him there with you.

And he wasn't sure that you still did. As much as he hated to admit it, that scared him. He didn't know where he should be if he wasn't with you. Everything else felt wrong. To be without you was like being without the sun, living in the deepest darkest cave and refusing to see the light.

That being said, Ben knew you were pissed, he was too.

Watching Homelander take Lou all but ripped him in half. He hated that the pussy had used a fucking child as a shield and hated that he had gotten away with it. Ben felt his body tense when he remembered the fear in Lou's eyes and a jolt of white hot rage burns through him at the thought that Homelander was hurting her.

Ben cared about Lou as much as he cared about you. She loved him and always made him feel welcome, and even though Rosemary never did, he was worried about her too. Maybe it was because he saw how much it hurt you for them to go, for Homelander to take Lou and for Rosemary to race after him. He knew that was your worst fear, but that didn't stop Ben from holding you back, for refusing to let you go alone to a place that Ben couldn't follow.

He'd never resented his abilities before, but he suddenly wished that he could fly. He would have soared after Homelander, after Rosemary, and after you if you had followed behind them.  That was why he had held you back though, because he couldn’t and he was scared.

The word felt like a curse to think, but it was true. Ben knew that it was fear coursing through his veins in those few moments when he realized that you were going to go after Homelander and he wouldn't be able to follow. He didn’t want you to face him alone, didn’t want to watch you die again.  After all these years, each time you died he feared that it would be the last, he feared that it would be the time it stuck and that he would be left all alone. He didn't want to live in a world without you, he'd done that for forty years and he was done with that.

Ben believed that it was his job to be there for you and after forty years of him being away, he wanted to be there to help you and take care of you. He was ready to make up for the lost time and he had told you how he felt the other day when you destroyed Legend's backyard, that he wanted the two of you to do this together.

That was before today.

Ben's hands are curled into fists on his lap as he forces himself to look out his own side of the car, refusing to look at you. If you could do the silent treatment he could too. Of all the fights the two of you had in the past, Ben knew this one was worse or at least it was as bad as when he fucked up, fucked Countess and then pushed you away when all he wanted was to bring you closer.

Honestly, you'd never compared him to Howard before. Ben could still remember the words you uttered to him the night of your birthday before you allowed him to take you to bed:

"Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."

Ben remembered the way you'd smiled up at him when you said it cheeks slightly flushed, lips red from when he kissed you.  He remembered the way he felt like he'd swallowed pure sunshine, because that was what you always did to him. You always made him feel like he was the only person in the world that was allowed to see the real you. He knew that you loved him, knew that he loved you more than life itself, but what you'd yelled him before Butcher came downstairs made him feel like taking a two by four to the chest. It hurt him.

He hated what you said to him, that you compared him to that asshole from back home. Ben wished for nothing more than to wipe the memories of that man from your mind. When you were younger sometimes Ben would see Howard and you sitting in the park or getting lunch. He remembered the way that you never seemed to smile as wide, how small you looked, how Howard liked you better in the gowns that your mother chose for you, how Howard liked you silent, and how Howard preferred your body covered in heavy coats even though it was the middle of summer.

That particular thing always pissed Ben off, because he knew how you struggled with that, struggled with the way you looked and Ben hated that someone else who stated they loved you made you feel small and ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen in his life.

Ben hated Howard with a passion for that exact reason, because Howard did try to control you. He chose what you wore, complained about what you ate, discouraged your art, and did other unspeakable things that you had told Ben over the years. Things that made Ben want to go back to Philadelphia and end Howard’s bloodline.

But sometimes on the nights when Ben was away at boarding school and he couldn't sleep he would think of Howard and you. Ben would never admit this to anyone, but he would compare himself to Howard, try to find the little differences that Ben thought made you like Howard, the differences that Ben thought about doing himself to make you love him the way he loved you. It always made him feel like a fucking pussy though. His father probably would have beat him within an inch of his life if his father knew that Ben was comparing himself to another man. It was something that Ben's father ingrained in him, that Ben's was from a strong, proud, family that never did that. And that a real man knew that he was better than everyone else, and if anyone tried to challenge that then it was best settled in the ring.

Ben sighed. He was trying hard to weed out the toxic things his father told him. You helped immensely with that, by letting Ben know that he didn’t have to be strong all the time and didn’t need to keep everything inside, that he didn't have to hide what he was feeling from you.

He loved that about you, that he felt like he never had to hide who he really was, that you saw all the parts of him he locked away for so long from everyone else and didn't care. And in exchange he got to see all the wonderful things about you and he didn't want to trade that for the world.

Even though he was angry with everything the two of you shouted, he still loved you.

You were just so damn stubborn all the time and never wanted to see things the way I do and-

Ben gritted his teeth together as another wave of annoyance came over him. He really did hate how stubborn you were. Probably because you were just as stubborn as he was and that meant the two of you were often at a stalemate.

Ben glanced over to where you were looking out the window. You were frowning, arms crossed tightly over your chest, leaning back against the cloth seats.

The awkward silence in the car was palpable and Ben knew that Hughie and Butcher were also trying not to notice the tension in the backseat. There was a song playing on the radio that Ben didn't recognize, but Hughie kept bobbing his head along to the music while Butcher's hands tighten on the wheel.

Ben's eyes flick back to where you are staring out the window. He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. Honestly he'd rather the two of you be yelling at one another than you give him the silent treatment. At least then he had some semblance of what was going on in your head. Ben knew you better than anyone, which meant that he was usually good at reading you, but not now.

Even Ben could admit to himself that you'd changed some, you were a little harder than you had been when he knew you, but it didn't make him love you any less. He had been shocked at your revelation that you'd killed other people. Ben was trying to ignore what you'd said about not all deaths leaving scars.

He'd been present for most of the ones that had happened in the past, but he wondered how many others there had been, and what other powers you had maybe acquired. That  was the thing about you, you weren't one to brag, never seemed to need to use as many powers to take someone down.

Your arms tighten around your body and Ben watches a single tear roll down your cheek.

Fuck. He thinks to himself. He really didn't want to be the reason why you're crying. He had been the main reason for so long and he hated that, he hated making you cry and hated when you cried in general. If you weren't so mad at him he would have unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you over onto his lap so he could hold you close and make you feel better, but he wasn't sure you wanted that, still wanted him.

The thought that you didn't made him feel like he was sinking into the sea, that the sun was slowly being sucked away while he's dragged under into the depths. Ben didn't know who he was without you, didn't know where he would go, and certainly didn't know what his purpose was if he wasn't in your life.

Before he can stop himself he reaches out to touch your arm, but you flinch away from him, still looking out the window and not turning to him.

Ben fights the urge to make you talk to him, and drops his hand back down to his thigh, curling it into a fist again. Ben felt something in his chest that was unfamiliar when you didn't let him touch you. He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger or frustration but it was there, simmering underneath the skin.

It reminded him too much of when he came back you didn't let him touch you, didn't want him anywhere near you. He didn't want to admit how much he relied on that, you touching him, not just sexually. The little touches you gave him on the back of his hand to comfort him when you knew he was anxious, or the brace of your hand against his shoulder or back when he was sitting down to reassure him that you were with him and that you weren't going anywhere or the moments you adjusted his collar when it was facing the wrong way, or smoothed a wrinkle at the front of his shirt or even just running your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked, Ben lived for them, for all those little moments.

No one else had ever tried to touch him that way before, with comfort and love.

Even when you were children, the hugs you gave him when you saw him made everything else seem colorless in comparison. When he came back to you and you refused to let him touch you he was afraid you never would again and when you began to touch him again he felt like he’d ascended to another plane, but now your refusal for him to touch your elbow or even take your hand worried him.

He did not believe that he could survive without something as simple as that.

But all of that just solidified the one thing that Ben knew deep down, had known since the moment he realized how much you meant to him, that you were his one weakness, his fatal flaw, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t live without. He didn’t want to imagine that world existed because he couldn't survive without you.

That was why he didn't want you to fight Homelander alone. It wasn't because he didn't see how strong you were, it was that he was so afraid that he was going to lose you that he couldn't control himself.

He hated admitting that even to you, but now he knew he had to, because he knew his pride wasn't worth losing you.

READER POV

After the most awkward car ride in history, you were ready to get out and kick some ass. Despite Butcher's accelerated driving it had taken five hours to get back to the city from Legend's due to traffic and the whole time you were especially aware of Ben's presence. His brooding was practically audible from the other side of the car where he sulked and refused to look at you. You figured that just as he did the silent treatment you could too, but it didn't make it any easier.

Frankly nothing made any of this easy.

You were frustrated by this turn of events, that Homelander had done the one thing that you feared more than anything else in the world, the one thing that you had tried to prevent from happening your entire life, but he had.

But as upset as you were and worried about Lou and Rosemary, you were upset with yourself over what you had said to Ben. You hadn't meant to mention Howard, it was a low blow and you knew how much he hated the time you spent with Howard. You knew that Ben struggled with the thought that you possibly loved Howard more than you loved him and the  possibility that you regretted spending your life with Ben rather than him. And you knew that it hurt him as much as the moments you watched him with other women over the years.

You didn't want Howard, never wanted Howard, never felt anything for him, and for Ben you felt everything. Sometimes you were afraid to show Ben just how much you felt for him, feared that it would make him push you away when he realized just how much you needed him. In the forty years you spent away from him you tried to convince yourself that you didn't, but having him back was like everything coming back in color from black and white. But at the same time you were still a little angry, angry with him for holding you back when you knew you could have taken Homelander down yourself.

Because in your heart you knew that was what Howard did to you. Not that he held you back from fighting a psychopathic supe, but that Howard never saw you more as a possession, a jewel in a crown adorned on his lofty head, nothing more than something to parade around Philadelphia. That's why it was so different for you when you were with Ben, because Ben saw you, he never covered you up with heavy cloaks, he never discouraged your love of art, he never bored you or made you feel like your opinion wasn't important. Ben made you feel alive, and Howard? Howard made you feel like the empty husk of what you used to be.

You press your lips together in a tight line as Butcher pulls up the seat so you can get out of the backseat and set foot on solid ground. Hughie had been left behind at a gas station, and yes you hated that Butcher had done that, but at the same time you were relieved. You didn't want him to get hurt. You still believed that Hughie was different than you, not that he was innocent, but he wasn't jaded or hardened the way you had to be to survive.

Your gaze lifts to look up at the towering skyscraper that rises from the earth like a proud oak tree on a hill. Vought tower looks the same way it always has, bold and haughty like the men who founded the company all those years ago. The setting sun glints off the glass windows like the last glimmer of summer, something to be grasped before the cold of winter comes to take it all away.

You'd stood here looking up at the building before, watched the lights turn off and on, watched the people go in and out of the building, and had crossed the threshold a handful of times. The final time was to deliver last rights to your good friend Liberty.

She, like a few others, hadn't believed your story and had shown up to speak with you. But unlike the others, her methods of finding out if you were still you was to try to kill you. She had succeeded and then left stating that she would "be back to catch up." When you'd gone to Vought to find her, you hadn't been expecting her to look the way she did, half burned and laying in a hospital bed. You didn't know why she looked that way. It had been odd to stand there over her, odd to remember the person she used to be, proud and powerful and then look at the broken body that laid there. Her death had been a necessary evil, the only time you ever stepped foot in Vought Tower in the last forty years, but if it was to protect your family it was worth it to you.

Your frown grows the longer you stand there underneath the ominous glow that emanates from inside, anxiety prickling along your skin like the spines of a cactus. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way, just that you didn't want to feel this way ever again. The building was a symbol of everything you hated, and you vowed deep down to destroy Vought and send it to hell where it belonged and make those who were responsible for Vought's success pay.

You think about the other day in Legend's backyard, when Ben pulled you back from the darkened pit and back into the light, when Ben told you that he didn't want you to do it alone, that he wanted to be there for you, and when he promised you again that he wasn't leaving and that he wanted you to give him all your burdens.

Yes he wants to be there for me, I get it, I GET IT. You sigh in frustration. I understand that he loves me and that he wants to protect me, but I wish he would just-

"Y/n?" Ben says from behind you. His voice is quiet, reserved, but you know that he's probably just as upset as you are.

You turn and glance up at him. Ben hadn't tried to touch you since you shifted away from him in the car. It hurt you to do that to him, to pull away from his touch when all you wanted was for him to comfort you. The night he came back to you, you hadn't lied when you said that he might have been the one who hurt you, but he was the only person you wanted to comfort you. That was the hard thing about loving him and him being your best friend. It was difficult to draw the line in the sand, to separate the two.

The feeling was normal. It was the same one you had when he broke your heart. You had hated him then too, but he was still the only person you had and the longer you stayed in bed running over the years you spent with him, the more you wished that he was with you. The only person that you wanted to comfort you and care for you even after everything that he had done and yelled at you at the premiere, was Ben.

Sometimes it scared you how much you relied on his touch, how much you needed just a comforting hand on your arm, or for him to tuck your hair behind your ear or for him to kiss you or for him to hold you while you slept. You didn't realize how much you needed it, how much you craved it until he came back and you allowed him to touch you again.

In the car you had been trying not to cry, but everything was building, your frustration with Ben over the conversation the two of you had, fear over what would happen to Lou and Rosemary, and red hot anger directed at Homelander. A single tear had slipped and when Ben had tried to comfort you, you pulled away from him.

Fuck.

You hadn't wanted to. You'd wanted to curl up against him and let him make you feel better, but you were still angry with him for holding you back.

The words you yelled at him momentarily ring in your ears. It wasn't just that you compared him to Howard, it was you told him you didn't need him to protect you. But you knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was probably circling the drain and thinking that you basically told him that you "didn't need him" when you did.

"Yeah?" You clear your throat. It was difficult to look at him, not when you were so close to just breaking down and telling him that you were sorry. You knew that you needed to be focused on what was about to happen, but you couldn't, not when things were like this between the two of you. You hated fighting with him.

Ben's gaze drifts to where Butcher is staring expectantly at you.

"Give us a minute." Ben says to him.

"Why?"

"Just give us a fucking minute." Ben snaps, obviously annoyed, but you knew that he was probably upset about the fight the two of you had and he was projecting that anger onto Butcher.

"Fine. I’ll clear the lobby. Don’t take too long." Butcher frowns, but turns and stalks up the front steps of the building.

You turn back to look at him, unable to stop the sarcastic comment from building. Because yes, you wanted to forgive him, but at the same time you were still frustrated with him. "What? Are you gonna lock me in the car? Or are you going to tell me again how you don’t want me to fight him?"

"No." Ben growls.

"Then why-"

"Because I don’t want it to be like this." Anger lurks on the edge of his words, but at the same time you can hear something else in his voice, something that sounds a little broken. And it makes your heart clench in you chest.

"You don’t want what to be like this?" You ask confused.

"I don’t want us to go in there angry at each other." He continues.

"Why not?"

"Because I-" Ben stops, his jaw tightening for a moment, before he sighs. "I hate it when you’re mad at me. When you don't let me-" He swallows and you watch his eyes drop to your hand for a moment and you understand what he's saying.

That he hates it when you don't let him touch you. You hated it too.

"You think I like being mad at you?" You whisper, fingers itching to touch his cheek, to push back the dark hair that has fallen forward into his eyes.

"No." He breathes.

You stand there for a moment, letting the silence fill the space between you. The sounds of the city rising around you, the sound of traffic, vendors downtown, and the smell of the pretzel stand around the corner are everywhere. There aren't as many people on the streets now, but you know that it's only a matter of time before someone recognizes Ben in his uniform.

You sigh as you look up at him. Despite the uniform there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you can't shake and you understand how much it must have hurt him too.

“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me either.” You reply.

"I don’t like being mad at you." Ben exhales heavily. "And I don't want it to be like this before we go in. If something happens I-" He stops talking. "I don't want our last conversation to be like that."

"What do you mean you don't want our last conversation to be like that?" This time you can't help, but take his hand and Ben physically relaxes as you do, squeezing your hand back just as tightly.

"If this doesn't work out, if-" His jaw locks and he drops his eyes from yours. "I can't lose you."

"Ben." You whisper and this time you can't help but hug him, pull him close to comfort him. Your arms go up around the back of his neck, burying your face into the hollow of his throat. "You're not going to lose me. Everything is going to be fine." Ben's body immediately curves around you, arms holding you against him so tight it's almost painful, like he thinks you'll never allow him to do this ever again.

"I'm not strong enough for that y/n-" He whispers it so low that you're not sure he meant for you to hear it. "I can't-"

"Shh." You breathe, moving your hands into his hair, smoothing down the unruly strands at the back of his head. "I promise you're not going to lose me." You pull back to look him in the eye. "But I want you to treat me like an equal, like you see my power-“

“I do.”

“No you don’t, because if you did you wouldn’t hold me back all the time.”

“I’m trying not to, but-“ Ben sighs leaning forward into you. “You said it’s your job to take care of me, well it’s my job to protect you.” His expression hardens. “And I failed before.”

“What happened to me was not your fault.”

“I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you for a second-"

“Just like I should have been there in Nicaragua." You whisper back, with a sorrowful sigh. "Just like I should have asked more questions, should have made sure that you were really gone. Then you wouldn’t have had to be in that lab, you wouldn't have been alone-"

“That’s not your fault.” Ben's forehead is against yours now. "Please don't feel bad about that."

“It doesn’t matter if it was my fault or not. I should have been there for you. I will forever feel guilty that I didn’t come for you sooner and that you had to endure that for forty years.” You drop your eyes to his chest.

“Then I’ll forever feel guilty for the way I treated you.” Ben replies.

"I don't want you to." Your gaze rises to his once more, locking with his deep green eyes.

It was true. You could still remember what he said to you, remember what he did, but he was here now and he was doing everything right to make you forget. He was being so different and working so hard to make up for the past that you didn't feel the prick of pain with the memories that you used to.

"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what happened to me." Ben murmurs, raising his hand to cup your cheek. "Those years don't matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is being here with you. And I don't want to miss another second because I did something stupid again."

"And I don't want you to feel guilty about what you did to me anymore. Because you're making me forget, you're doing everything you can to be different, and you're making me fall in love with you all over again." You whisper, leaning in to his hand where his thumb traces gently over your cheekbone. "And I don't care what the past held as long as I have a future with you, as long as you're here with me I don't care about anything else."

Ben smiles when he kisses you, the shape of his lips imprinting against yours, and making you lose yourself in loving him the same way that you had all those years ago. "I love you sweetheart."

"I love you too." You smile just as wide, fingers tangling in his dark hair. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have compared you to Howard. You're not like him Ben. You are my everything and Howard was nothing."

He nods. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to hold you back I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"I know. I want to keep you safe too." You nudge your nose against his, breathing in the same air for a few moments.

He is still smiling softly. "Why are we like this?"

"Like what?"

"We always find something to fight about and I-"

“I kinda like it.”  You shrug.

“What?”

“Not that I like that you’re mad at me or being mad at you, I just think that we like to keep it interesting." You snort. "I think that if we didn't have a healthy amount of fighting we would just be so boring and-"

Ben kisses you again to shut you up, but it doesn't work.

"Plus, I like to think that the make-up is worth it after." You whisper against his lips with a smirk.

You watch Ben's eyes darken, with your comment. "Well, sweetheart, I'd say that we've got about forty years to make-up for." His hand on your waist tightens, moving his lips to your ear. "And I look forward to every single second." Ben's voice is rough and he bites your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine that for a moment clears your worry about Homelander.

"I love you." You smile, kissing him like it's the last thing you'll ever do, like it's the greatest good you'll ever amount to.

"I love you too." Ben replies kissing you like it's the last time he'll be able to and trying not to think that it could be.

A/N: A lot of delicious angst before the final fight! I have written most of the fight already, but I am hoping to finish out the next chapter by the end of the week... if the writer's block isn't blocking. 😂😭 I hope y'all liked this one. I see only maybe 2 chapters left officially in the series, but we will see how everything wraps up.

As always thank you so much for reading! I am so happy that so many people love this fic as much as I do. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! :)

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@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@libby99hb @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[nostromo13]

Emily Prentiss doesn't get written much of a life outside of the BAU in the show. I was about ready to critique this, but I've been on a season 7 kick recently, and honestly, I think it makes a lot of the trajectory of her character. JJ, Hotch, and Derek get their families, Derek his houses, Spencer his mum, Pen her support groups, and Rossi his books and wives. Meanwhile, Emily gets old friends she hasn't seen in 20+ years, and her only major life changes are job related.

In season 7, she says her reason for leaving is not the BAU. The BAU is great. She just can't grab onto the rest of her old life like nothing ever happened. Initially, I thought the lack of social life given to Emily compared to the others made this feel jarringly disconnecting because we have zero clue what exactly she has to grab onto. However, I think it serves giving her a goodbye because it means we get nothing to cling onto with her. She's trying so hard, and the BAU is slowly righting, but the rest of her life is like walking on a sheet of ice without the grit of details to stop from slipping off.

Emily is mysterious and driven and and if we can't get a proper sense for how lonely or not she may be in her social life, then Emily Prentiss gets to keep her resolve. It infers that her life revolves around work and not just in the sense that the BAU is a heavily demanding job. She moves for a new job, her only family is her job (rip my heart out that scene that says this is nothing to live for), heck even her mother is only utilised to give insight into how Emily approaches her job. Her relationships always die out because the series doesn't invest in them enough. She gets away with with being a workaholic where Aaron couldn't because she chooses career over a partner (And that's a little bit why I love their pairing so much because theyd ground each other in this aspect where the series never properly tried to). Emily mostly gets a past. The only future ever presented and then followed through for her is work.

I'm currently working on an analysis post (a stupidly long one, save my soul) and fic on how we get to season 17 Emily from s2 and s15, and I think s7 plays a big part in establishing her workaholic tendencies.

[thesirencult]

PAC : SOULFUL MUSINGS FROM THE PRIESTESS

WHAT THE DARK FEMININE ANIMA WANTS TO TELL YOU

PILE 1

Stop letting your past dictate your future. The old stories are no longer serving you, they are imprisoning you in your own delusions. You are not unlucky. The universe loves you, you are the one that's getting in your own way.

For a moment assume the universe is working in your favour. It sounds cliché but "what would you do if there was no chance you would fail?"

PILE 2

You have a hard time balancing your practical with your fun side. The Goddess wants tot tell you that it is okay to be the life of the part sometimes.

The cards I got (2 Of Pentacles, Queen Of Wands reversed and Queen Of Pentacles), tell a story of someone with huge potential who is afraid to make a choice and fiercely lead the way.

Choosing one way doesn't close the door to a different timeline, it brings you more and more opportunities and gets you closer to your end state.

Find a way to transmute your negative past to fuel for your future betterment.

PILE 3

My love, the Goddess wants you to know that now it is time to focus on the present moment. Opportunities lay ahead of you and it would be such a mistake to focus on the negative. I would say that now it's the time to be sovereign. What you have is enough. Your skills, talents and abilities are all you need to reach for the stars. There is magic in the beginning of a journey. Looking back you will reminisc about these days.

I'm hearing "The Call Of The Wild" and it is a book and movie that I love. Basically, it is a dog that has to find the wolf within in order to survive and during this process he sets himself free from societies standards and rules. This is the process you are going through right now. Don't judge yourself based on other people's opinions and standards, choose your authentic path and follow your instinct and heart. "Women Who Run With The Wolves" can help you dive even deeper.

Choose care, diplomacy and love when confronted with hate and knives.

PILE 4

Your feminine self is struggling to be expressed outwardly because of a series of issues that have been haunting you : fear of letting people in and trust issues, negative self image and a mentality that hinders your growth.

I see that you are struggling heavily with being nostalgic and have a hard time letting down your hair and being a bit softer with yourself.

Flowers can not grow when the strong wind is breaking their stems, we need softness and calm to grow and evolve.

You are strong enough to fight through, even if you give it one last try. Accept others' help and don't insist on carrying all the weights yourself. The future may be brighter than the past but you'll never know if you don't give it a chance and keep reminiscing.

An opportunity or a person around you is presenting itself but you are looking back and missing out on it. Act now.

[porcelainstarrr]

Soft Target

summary 

After accepting a high-paying position in Hell’s Kitchen, you’re assigned a high-risk patient in a federal facility. You didn’t think much of it, not until you met him.

Benjamin Poindexter.

Once a decorated FBI agent, now a man on the edge of sanity. Your role is simple: assess his mental state, document his progress, and convince the board whether he’s safe enough to be released. But the closer you get, the harder it becomes to stay objective. The longer you're in the room with him, the more blurred the lines become.

Will you be the one to save him? or the reason he never recovers?

[ This fanfic takes place a few years after the events of Daredevil Season 3, following Benjamin Poindexter’s spine surgery and psychological recovery. ]

{ CHAPTERS }

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

intro 

✧･ﾟ hi, i'm raey ･ﾟ✧

I’m super new to this writer thing so please bare with me as I figure it out. English isn’t my first language, so if you spot a few mistakes here and there... pretend you didn’t.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

 about the series:  

this is a Benjamin Poindexter x female reader fanfic.

it’s a slow burn, forbidden romance, and very much a series.

this fic is gonna be heavily accurate to dex’s actual character in the show. his quiet intensity, his mental state, his silence, all of it, but with a soft twist because I said so.

I know. we all hate him for what he did to foggy. but unfortunately…

he’s hot.

and pretty privilege is very real.

There might be some darker themes woven in later on… maybe I dont know I’m still figuring this series out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

what to expect:

⟢ slow burn

⟢ forbidden romance

⟢ emotionally complex characters

⟢ smut (18+)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

warnings:

⟢ adult content (18+)

⟢ strong language

⟢ mental health themes

⟢ possessive/obsessive tendencies (maybe… idk, we’ll see)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

❝ a few things ❞

⟢ This is a safe space. No hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated here.

⟢ Please leave comments, I’d love to hear your thoughts or requests as this develops.

⟢ All work is my own. Please don’t repost anywhere else without my permission.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

okay, that’s all for now.

sit down, relax, and enjoy.

feel free to leave your thoughts and requests in the comments.

yours truly, raey ♡

[mlqueen89]

Five | Favour

I don't know what you've been told  But time is running out, no need to take it slow  I'm stepping to you toe-to-toe  I should be scared, honey, maybe soBut I ain't worried 'bout it right now (right now) 

I Ain’t Worried About by OneRepublic 

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

warnings/triggers: smut in overall series, gambling (let me know if i missed any!)

word count: 10,315

summary: ellie tries to be human. jake comes along for the ride. rooster is rooster. and teak is an asshole.

A/N: capping off our chapter four, that accidentally became chapter 5 cause i can't write anything short to save my liiiife.

dropped a little hinty poo in the chapter banner if you're curious who teak was modeled after. hang onto your butts, cause there's something special (it's smut) in the next chapter.

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ glossary of terms ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥ 

Ellie was staring at the data, but she wasn’t really seeing it. The test results were all there—every fluctuation, every spike, every point of measurement leading right up to Hangman damn near breaking her system before it had a chance to breathe. She should’ve been combing through it, analyzing the weak points, figuring out what needed reinforcement, programming tweaks, writing out her adjustment report for the ground crew. She even entertained the idea of calling the update Anti-Cocky SOB Pilot Protocol, hidden somewhere in the code, a small little piece of nothing when someone who didn’t know code looked at it. Although programming an entire failsafe trigger around Hangman felt a little like overkill, a carefully masked line of code might satisfy the tiny petty part of her. Hell, she’d sure as hell get something out of it when it flashed across her screen the next time Hangman tried (and failed) to break her tech. 

Instead, her thoughts kept circling back to Rooster’s words, to the way he’d defended Hangman like Ellie was the unreasonable one in this situation. Like she was the one who didn’t get it. Ellie respected Rooster in many ways, but she couldn’t get on board with being on the wrong side of this.  

Simply put, Hangman hadn’t followed the parameters of testing. Hangman hadn’t respected her enough to run her test the way she needed it to be run. The train of thought made her pulse tick up, the heat of anger building inside her chest as she felt the muscles in her jaw tighten. 

A quiet knock on the frame of her open door pulled her out of it, shifted the boiling pot off the burner and settled the simmering water that threatened to spill over the edge. When she looked up, Mav was leaning against the doorjamb, casually unbothered, his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his nonchalant appearance, Ellie clocked the familiar knowing expression set into his features. How long he had been standing there, watching her stew in her own thoughts, she couldn’t have been sure. 

“Got a minute?” he asked, but he was already stepping into her office, his gait careful and slow as he approached. 

Ellie nodded, closing out one of the screens, her hand trembling slightly as her heart, still coming down from the thought of the testing and the resulting conversation with Rooster, pounded heavily in her chest, before swiveling in her chair to face him. “If this is about today’s test results, I was just about to—” 

Maverick pulled up a chair across from her, dragging it closer with a skip-stutter of the legs on tiled floor. “We can go over them. But that’s not why I’m here.” 

She frowned slightly, waiting. In all the years she’d known Mav—Uncle Mav—she could count on one hand the few times she’d ever seen him serious, and it reminded her that his face could impart it. 

“You seemed… distracted earlier,” Mav’s approach was as careful as it had been when he’d stepped into her office, tilting his head as he studied her, testing the waters. “Want to talk about it?” 

“Not sure when you got so good at this,” Ellie waved her hand as if she were gathering up the essence of his presence, searching for the right word, “—relaxed dad vibe, Mav, it’s very—” 

“Oklahoma.” 

Ellie bit her lip, hard. Mav’s face remained stoic. 

Fucking Oklahoma.  

She should’ve seen that one coming.  

Ellie exhaled sharply, dropping her head back against the chair. 

The Oklahoma rule had started when she was a kid—probably around nine or ten if memory served—during one of the rare times Mav had been around for more than a few days at a time. They’d been in the backyard, her brand-new white sneakers covered in dirt, arms crossed tight as she glared up at him, stubborn and fuming after getting caught trying to sneak out past bedtime. She’d made it past her dad and her uncle Wolfman sharing a beer in the kitchen and her mom talking on the phone with the long cord stretched around the corner into the living room. She’d avoided the creaking stair halfway down the porch and was approaching her swing-set, bathed in the orange twilight when he’d stepped out from the shadowed spot on the porch. Maverick. 

“Dad said I could swing.” Ellie announced, sure of herself when her Uncle Mav had asked if she should be in bed, glancing down at his watch. 

“You really gonna lie to me, kid?” Mav had crouched down to her level, his eyes boring into hers, serious in a way she had never seen him before at that age. Her uncle Mav was the one who let her eat cookies after she’d brushed her teeth, her uncle Mav brought her cool rocks from the places he’d visited, her uncle Mav was not serious. 

“No,” she’d said, but she’d been looking down at her toes, studying the largest fleck of half-dried dark brown mud across the top of her once pristinely white shoes. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, even as the silence stretched, and she almost wondered if he’d given up on the interrogation. 

“That so?” 

She had stood her ground, chin lifted when she realized that he was indeed as serious as a heart attack as her mom would say, until Mav narrowed his eyes and—without warning—broke the silence. “Oklahoma.” 

It had meant nothing to her at the time. A random word, plucked from the sky. So random that she had waited, waited for his next words before she spoke again. “What?” 

“Oklahoma,” he had repeated evenly, confident and sure as if it were the most obvious thing a person would say in the current situation. “Means you have to tell the truth. No lying, no dodging. Just straight answers.” 

She had hesitated, sensing a trap, the kind adults set for kids who misbehaved. Santa will know you’re not actually sleeping. If you don’t eat carrots, you’ll go blind. Oklahoma means you have to tell the truth—or else.  

“That’s not a real rule.” 

“It is now. Wanna ask your old man?” 

Ellie had yelped, reaching for Mav’s hand as he stood, pulling him back with a shake of her head, her tiny ponytail whipping around her face. 

And just like that, it had stuck. Over the years, it became their unspoken pact. It had become so engrained in her, that even though it had been years since she’d seen Mav, the word evoked the same feelings, an almost Pavlovian response to spill her guts. 

Now, sitting across from Mav in her office, Ellie pressed her lips into a thin line.  

“Come on, kid,” Mav urged. “Out with it. Rules are rules.” 

Ellie resisted the urge to throw it back at him, wasn’t he the one who didn’t like rules? Instead, Ellie exhaled slowly, reaching up to massage her temples for a beat before she finally relented. Going toe-to-stubborn-toe with Mav was a losing game. 

Ellie exhaled through her nose. “I’m fine.” 

Maverick didn’t look convinced. “Ellie.” His voice was softer now, more measured. “I saw the way you and Hangman went at it today. And then Rooster. Whatever’s going on there—don’t let it get in the way. Your work could make a lot of difference.” 

Ellie bristled, could feel the prickle of reproach travel up her spine, seeping into her words before she could filer them into a measured tone. “It’s not getting in the way.” 

Maverick gave her a look. “You sure about that?” 

She sat up straighter, squared her shoulders. “I can do this, Mav.” 

He nodded slowly, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I believe you. But I’ve seen what happens when you let personal feelings cloud your judgment. And I’ve been on the other side of it too.” His gaze flickered, just for a second, to the framed photo over her shoulder on the shelf, the one with Mav, and her dad, Wolfman, Iceman and Slider, and... Goose. 

Goose, Mav’s old RIO; Goose, Rooster’s dad.  

Ellie’s throat tightened and she felt the fight leave her.  

Mav didn’t wait for her to say anything, his eyes back on her now as he continued. “I know what it’s like to feel like you have to prove something. To yourself. To everyone else. And I know what it’s like to let that get in the way of what actually matters.” 

Ellie swallowed. “This isn’t about proving myself...” 

Maverick met her gaze, his brow raised. He didn’t need to say it this time. 

“Okay, maybe I want to, just a little,” she admitted. It felt like the information was being prised from her strong grip. She just didn’t know who she wanted to prove herself to yet, or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it. “But that’s not why I don’t tr—” Ellie paused, sorting her words out for a moment before she started again. “He didn’t follow the testing parameters, Mav. He didn’t just push the system—he pushed me. And we don’t have time to play games with some hotshot pilot who wants to see if he can break my work before it’s even ready for that kind of stress test.” 

Maverick sat up, his hands sliding across his pant legs, taking a moment to study Ellie, watching her for a beat and then two before he spoke, leaning back in the chair. “Are you okay to continue? There’s no shame in bringing this back to the drawing board.” 

Ellie met his gaze, steady and unwavering. If anyone but Mav had suggested it, she’d be all over them. “I’ve spent years working to get here. I lived on bases in Germany and Turkey and South Korea, working on this. I am not letting it all fall apart because I can’t get a handle on a few pilots. It’s ready. I’m ready.” 

Maverick nodded once, seemingly satisfied. Then he smirked, wry and wide, giving his head a slight shake. “You know, you remind me of someone.” 

“Great. That’ll definitely get me a lot of bonus points with Admiral Simpson,” Ellie huffed a laugh. “Should I be worried?” 

Mav’s shrug was easy, immediate, “probably.” His expression softened, turning into something more genuine. “Come on. Let’s go over those results. Figure out what we need to tweak to stick it to our hotshot pilots. I can chat with Hondo to make it happen if we need more resources.” 

Ellie nodded; the smile that twisted her lips not easy to hide as she turned back to her screen. “I was actually thinking of programming a failsafe called ACSOBPP.”  

“ACSOBPP?” 

“Anti-Cocky S.O.B. Pilot Protocol.” Ellie smirked and from the corner of her eye, she could see Mav relax, the serious exterior fading away until a glimmer of Uncle Mav peeked through. 

“I think Anti-Seresin Protocol might be more... succinct?” 

Her responding snort had her shaking her head, and as she pulled up the data, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Mav saw through her quicker than she felt comfortable admitting. 

Rooster: You coming to the Hard Deck tonight? 

A picture of a glass of gin sitting on the hard top of a bar came through next. 

Ellie: Maybe. 

Rooster: That’s not a real answer. 

Ellie: It’s the only one you’re getting. 

Rooster: So that’s a yes. 

Ellie huffed, tossing her phone onto the bed behind her as she turned back toward her open closet, wrapped in a towel, hair still slightly damp from the shower, chewing her thumbnail. 

She’d firmly decided not to go to the Hard Deck tonight by the time she’d stepped in through the front door, her mind already drifting to the book on her nightstand she’d yet to pick up again since the flight back to San Fran. After the day she’d had, full of a dull, pulsing mix of nerves and rage, there was nothing she’d rather do at this moment than pack it in for the night, turn off her social meter and relax until she drifted into the oblivion of sleep. 

She’d followed through the motions: climbing the stairs to the main living area, every step heavy; a quick wave to Yan who sang off-key to the music thumping through her earbuds as she spread peanut butter on a slice of toast in the kitchen and didn’t notice Ellie passing; trudging to her room down the hall, pausing only for a moment to straighten a crooked frame on the wall; stripping off her clothes and stepping into the shower in her ensuite and letting the water wash away the calcified stress. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing under the water but when she opened her eyes, the small room was fogged with steam, and her phone was buzzing with a text message on the window ledge near the shower. Rooster. 

Now, she stood in front of her closet, mind slightly changed about going out, the book on her nightstand, forgotten again. It took her a minute to pull on a pair of jeans, a white tank top and the black leather jacket she’d had for as long as she could remember. 

When she slipped out of her room, her hair mostly dried and a small bit of makeup dusting her features, Yan was no longer in the kitchen and the house was dim, save for the light over the stove. 

“I know you’re not sneaking out the door in your ‘fuck me’ jacket.” Nic muttered lazily, her hair a nest as she blinked at the time on the stove display. 

“No.” Ellie had responded too quickly, she knew because Nic’s eyes were on her, taking in the rest of her outfit, from ankle boot to the crown of her high ponytail. 

Instinctively, Ellie tugged the black leather jacket tighter around her body, her arms folded across her chest. “It’s just a jacket, Nic.” She wanted to ignore the fact she hadn’t worn her vintage aviator jacket since, well— 

Nic was shaking her head, mostly to herself, but Ellie knew which thoughts were running through her friend’s head, because she knew Nic’s as well as her own. This was the jacket that had made it through the college days of clubbing in downtown San Fran; this jacket had ended up on the floor of more than one bedroom; this jacket had been with them on their “girl’s trip” to Rome. This jacket was fun Ellie’s armour. This jacket had providence: the fuck me jacket. On the inside tag where the washing instructions had long faded away, Nic had once written an ‘F’ and an ‘M’. 

“Does this, per chance, have anything to do with the fact you were sporting a serious love bite the day after my party?” 

Ellie let out a dry laugh, incredulous, though she felt the heat creeping up the back of her neck. “Oh, definitely not.”  

Bradley had said she needed to appear more ‘human’, and less Ned Leeds/Girl in the Chair to Spiderman; less Woman in the High Castle; more down to their level, accessible. She had to prove she wasn’t sent by SkyNet to systematically wipe them out. This was her white flag; the Christmas truce of 1914 (Ellie’s version). “I’m trying to be more... likeable?”

“Ok. Well, in that case...” Nic snorted as she grabbed the first glass from the cabinet she was reaching into and slotted it under the faucet. She filled it near to the top and drained half with noisy gulps before she continued. It was clear she didn’t believe Ellie as much as Ellie would have liked her to. “Tell Bradley it’s going to be on him if you get your spiky, impenetrable, stone heart broken by some hotshot pilot.” 

This time, it was Ellie’s turn to snort. “Trust me, there’s a negative zero chance of that.” 

And yet, Jake’s stupid, not not handsome face was there, in the back of her mind already fully formed, sipping on her coffee, the spark behind his green eyes alive. Quickly, the image shifted: his tall frame folded into the briefing chair this afternoon, toothpick pinched between his perfect teeth, his eyes dancing like he really got it when she spoke about her life’s work. Her stomach twisted, something all at once unpleasant and yet...not. 

Then, the reminder of her tech screaming loud, red, flashing warnings as he pushed past the parameters she’d set filled her head. His voice in her ears, smooth, calm as he pushed that same work, she thought he’d admired moments before to the breaking point.  

Ellie felt the prickle of irritation rising. Simultaneously, she felt the overwhelming urge to punch him waring with the impulse to reach out and touch the curve of his jaw, allow her fingers to ghost the place on his cheek where the dimples appeared when he smirked, satisfy the itch she felt to—nope. No. She tamped the stray thoughts down, swatted away the misty image of his perfect features until no trace remained. Shooed them back to the box in her mind with the flimsy tape and the warning stickers.

“Dude.” Nic’s eyebrow couldn’t possibly have arched higher on her forehead as she stared at Ellie, “be so fucking for real right now. Your eyes are glazing over.” 

“What’s going on?” Yan’s bedroom door clicked shut softly as she pulled an earbud out and slid up to the kitchen island where Nic was standing. 

 “Oh, you know, Ell was just sneaking out the door like a hormonal teen in the ‘fuck me’, jacket.” Nic waved at Yan, offering the jar of Nutella she’d pulled out somewhere between Ellie’s eye-glazed thoughts and now. Nic reached into the drawer to her left to give Yan a clean spoon, her eyes never leaving Ellie. 

“Woah—new development in the—?” Yan took the spoon and leaned on the counter, mirroring Nic’s posture, clinking her spoon with Nic’s expectantly outstretched one before she dug into the jar of hazelnut paste. Yan waggled her eyebrows at Ellie while Nic watched, casting her gaze between her two roommates, quietly gathering puzzle pieces. Ellie’s shoulders sagged. 

 “Wait, what thing? What new development?” Nic was already asking qualifying questions. She suddenly didn’t seem sleepy anymore. 

 Ellie rolled her eyes, readjusting the strap of her purse as she made a show of checking for her house key and her phone. “It’s a work thing, okay? No new developments on that thing we talked about that one time, ever.” 

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Yan was doing her terrible impression of an English accent. The one that had her almost kicked out of a bar on New Year’s Eve a few years ago when she drunkenly tormented a poor man who had tried to ask her out. 

“Is she seriously keeping secrets from me?” Nic turned to Yan, nodding her head in Ellie’s direction. “Are you keeping secrets from me, your oldest friend? Is it about a dick? Is it about multiple dicks?” Nic’s tone was rising, along with her excitement when she turned back to Ellie. 

“I hate you both.” Ellie flipped them off (lovingly) before she turned away, but not too soon to miss the wink Nic threw her way. 

 “Love you, too, my emotionally messy, disconnected, babe.” 

“Practice safe sex! Don’t do anything my grandma wouldn’t do!” Yan’s voice floated to her, down the stairs, as Ellie headed for the door. 

Even before she stepped out fully and closed the door behind her with a little too much force, Nic and Yan burst into feverish, hushed conversation. 

She imagined Nic was already texting Bradley while Yan filled her in. 

Yeah, runnin’ down a dream that never would come to me, workin’ on a mystery, goin’ wherever it leads, runnin’ down a dream 

By the time Ellie made it to the Hard Deck and stepped inside, it was buzzing. 

The warmth of bodies, the scent of salt and beer, the sound of Tom Petty crooning over the speakers—it was all overwhelmingly familiar, in the way a tv show picked out the nostalgia of a vague moment and made it matter, expounded. Ellie knew she didn’t belong here and yet... it all pulled her in. 

Ellie had spent enough of her childhood in bars like this to know the rhythm of them—the sticky floors, the low hum of conversation layered beneath bursts of laughter, the clink of bottles meeting wood. Her dad used to bring her along sometimes, settling her at a corner table with a soda, a colouring book and a cup with pieces of broken crayons while he swapped stories with old squadron buddies. She’d watch them, the way they filled a room with their presence, loud and unshakable, carrying the weight of the sky on their shoulders like it was nothing. Back then, she hadn’t realized how much of that weight had been left unspoken. Now, years later, standing in the Hard Deck, just on the fringe, she wondered if she had inherited more of it than she ever meant to. 

When she pulled into the parking lot, the neon lights of the sign above the door, a neon jet flickering to resemble an evasive maneuver, the light that spilled out from the windows and door coaxed her inside. Just one drink. Just one chat. Just one hour. When she pulled it out, the phone lodged in the cup holder read back 8:47 PM. One hour. 

It didn’t take long for her presence to be noticed. 

“Rigsy!” 

She barely had time to react before Rooster was there, his face lighting up in genuine surprise. He had a beer in one hand as he jabbed a finger into her shoulder, as if he wanted to make sure she was really there. 

“You actually showed up,” his grin was easy, tinged by something Ellie could place as a look of victory. “Thought you were going to bail.” 

Ellie laughed, shifting her weight onto one foot, her eyes scanning the crowd to look for other faces she might recognize. If she was going to be here, she wanted to make sure she was seen.  

“Trust me, I almost did.” She left out the part where “almost did” meant that she had turned around two sets of traffic lights before she got here but had taken a wrong turn and had ended up back on the right path, somehow. 

Rooster chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t.” He nodded toward the bar at the center of the room before they started walking, “First round’s on me.” 

Before she could answer, someone across the bar called his name, and Rooster turned toward them, already halfway through an apology. “Give me one minute, okay? Stay put.” 

Ellie sighed, tugging at her jacket as she watched Rooster disappear into the crowd, before she approached the bar. She’d just reached a space in the line of chairs already occupied by some ground crew and a pilot or two when she heard it, the unmistakable drawl. 

“Well, well, well.”  

Ellie hated how she could feel her pulse uptick slightly, her suddenly racing heart telling her who it would be before she turned to look.  

“As I live and breathe...” 

Ellie turned just as Jake slipped in beside her, leaning against the bar, an insufferable half-smile playing at his lips. Yet, it churned her stomach in a way she didn’t want to give too much attention. 

There was a clink of a glass on the bar and the scrape of coaster as he slid a drink toward her—whiskey, neat. 

“For almost breaking your fancy tech,” he said, smirking as she frowned down into the glass of amber. “You’re welcome.” 

Ellie’s laugh was dry, humourless, as she pushed the glass back toward him. “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“C’mon, Rigby.” He nudged it right back in her direction. “You still sour about earlier?” 

She leveled him with a look, but she could tell he was undeterred, watching her like he had her all figured out. “Not sure sour’s the right word...” 

The ache in her jaw that persisted from this afternoon after she’d gone over the test flight data with Mav told her there was a stronger word to describe how she felt. She just hadn’t settled on it yet. 

Jake took a slow sip rolling it over his tongue like he had all the time in the world. “Listen, I get it—you like control.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the light catch in it before leveling her with a knowing smirk. “But you can’t build a game-changer and expect us not to take it for a joyride.” 

Ellie scoffed. “You mean break it?” 

His grin only deepened, his eyes dancing as he took his time, tasted his whiskey and set it back down. “Test it.” 

She let out a measured breath, trying not to let the annoyance coil too tightly inside her. “There were parameters, you just—” Ellie started, standing up straight now, her body turned toward him.  

Despite telling herself she shouldn’t, she could feel the heat rising inside of her, almost beyond her control.  

Instead, she stopped herself, taking one look at the peace offering on the bar before she grabbed it and took a swig. This was what he wanted, to get a rise out of her. If she was going to stay at the Hard Deck for longer than half a minute, she might as well have a bit of help. 

“It wasn’t ready for a stress test.” 

Jake’s lips twisted into something triumphant. “See, that right there—” he paused, pointing at her around the grip of the whiskey in his hand, “that’s why you need me.” 

Ellie braced against the burn of the whiskey as she drained the last of the drink, her glass coming back down on the bar top. She was waving Penny over for another before she cleared her throat around the burn, “I don’t need you, Seresin.” 

He chuckled, leaning against the bar now, offering a nod and smile to Penny as she slid another whiskey across to Ellie. “Sure you don’t. Keep telling yourself that if it helps you get off to sleep at night, Ace.” 

Ellie shot him a sharp look, her green eyes locking onto his. 

The air between them crackled—charged and unrelenting. 

Somewhere across the bar, she felt Rooster’s gaze on them, like he was waiting to see who would break first. 

But it wasn’t Rooster that put Ellie on edge. 

The way Jake was watching her, like he saw her. Like he knew exactly what she was trying to do—what she was trying not to feel. 

Ellie’s grip on her glass tightened. She would need to make some tactical adjustments, fortify her walls. 

Jake tilted his head, considering her for a beat before he spoke again. “Listen, we can keep this up all night, or we can put this to bed.” 

Ellie arched a brow as she studied Hangman. He lounged against the bar, his smirk just toeing the line between charming and insufferable.  

“And by this you mean...?” She motioned between them, as if she dared him to put a name to it. 

“A game.” 

“Let me get this straight,” she said after a moment, fingers drumming lightly against the glass. “You think beating you at—” Ellie glanced around, spotting a few guys throwing darts and a group of others hanging around lazily at a pool table nearby. 

“—pool.” Hangman supplied. 

“You think my beating you at pool is going to settle things between us?” 

Hangman grinned, like the answer was obvious.  

“Seein’ as how you were practically fuming earlier about me pushing your tech. Thought I’d give you a shot at knocking me down a peg—publicly, no less. Even the score a little.” He leaned in, his voice smooth, assured. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid you can’t beat me.” 

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” 

“Not in my nature,” Hangman said easily, flashing that signature smug smile of his. “But hey, if you win, I’ll admit you’ve got me beat—at least in one thing.” 

The laugh that escaped her lips was sharp, incredulous. Yet, she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. “Not sure your ego is ready for me to wipe the floor with you.” 

Jake let out an easy, unbothered laugh, shaking his head. “That’s a bold assumption, darlin’. I like it.” 

Ellie paused for a moment, studying the way his lips curved, the dimples ghosting his cheeks. “What’s in it for you? You know, if by some miracle you manage to win?” 

Jake took a deep, even breath, looking away as he took a steady sip before he turned back to her, almost too quickly, as if he’d already decided the stakes before Ellie had asked. Still, he played it off with a shrug, nonchalant. “Let’s say... you owe me a favour, just for the fun of it.” 

Ellie arched a brow, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the edge of the bar. “A favour?” she repeated, slowly, not bothering to hide her skepticism. Somehow, she didn’t trust that owing Jake Seresin a favour was just for the fun of it. “That's frighteningly vague.” 

Jake’s grin widened. Ellie imagined if Jake ever scratched out in his career as the top aviator in the Navy, he’d easily slip into the role of Salesman of the Year in perpetuity at some dusty used car lot somewhere between here and Nevada. “That’s the beauty of it. Leaves room for... creativity.” 

She knew how creative he was. 

Exhaling in a noisy huff, Ellie was already shaking her head. “Right. And I’m just supposed to trust that whatever favour you come up with isn’t some underhanded ploy to stroke your own ego?” 

“Guess you’re just gonna have to trust me then, won’t you?” Jake clicked his tongue, before he pressed a hand over his heart, “on my word as a good Southern gentleman. Or do you think so little of me?” His face was all mocked offense; if he had pearls, Ellie was sure he’d be clutching at them for effect. 

Ellie snorted. “Oh, I think exactly the right amount of you.” 

For a moment in time, standing in front of him, she forgot how angry he’d made her; how hot her face was as she stormed across the tarmac, a shark sensing blood in the water. Single-minded, ready to rip into him. It was so easy with him, she’d noticed, to slip into the fun and light banter that made her lose focus. 

His chuckle was low, amused. “Well, since you’re worried, I’ll make it fair. If you win, I owe you a favour.” 

Ellie exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders back as she turned her whiskey glass between her fingers. Rooster’s words from earlier echoed in her mind— he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing the system. You want to keep him in check? Show him you can handle him. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, brushing him off with an eye roll, but now, with Jake standing in front of her, all cocky confidence and insufferable smirk, she felt the weight of the challenge settle in her chest. 

She could handle him. 

Wiping that smirk off his face would be worth it. Proving she could do this, that she could go toe-to-toe with Hangman and come out on top—that was worth it. And now, with the added twist of a wager—a favor to be cashed in—there was something even more intriguing about the game. Jake played to win, but so did she. 

If she was going to be here, if she was going to put up with his nonsense, she might as well get something out of it. 

She let the silence stretch just long enough to make him wonder before setting her drink down decisively and pushed off the bar, already making her way to the table. 

“Alright, Hangman,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s see if you’re as good with a pool cue as you are at running your mouth.” 

When he reached the table, already moving to grab a cue stick, Jake’s grin was wolfish. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” 

Ellie was shrugging off her leather jacket and tossing it to a nearby stool, when Rooster returned with the beer he’d promised. She watched as he carefully took in the situation, looking for context clues for only a moment before he spoke up. “What are you doing?” 

“I need more—” Ellie started, rolling her shoulders, and shaking her arms in wide, exaggerated movements, as if it were obvious, “—mobility.” 

Rooster rolled his eyes, “I see that. I mean, what are you doing.” Ellie followed his gaze to Jake, who was lining up the triangle with laser focus. 

When she caught herself staring for a beat too long, she turned back, a shrug on her shoulders, taking the bottle. “You told me to show him I could handle him, right?” Ellie motioned toward the table again as if her plan was clear. 

Rooster narrowed his eyes, taking a slow pull of his drink as if he were mulling over his words. “Right. And how does playing pool with Hangman accomplish that?” 

Ellie smirked over the rim of her bottle. “It’s a start, right?” 

He let out a short huff, glancing toward the table where Jake was still lining up the racked balls with the kind of focus usually reserved for landing a jet on a pitching carrier deck. When Rooster turned back to Ellie, suspicion creeping into his expression, his voice was cautious, “what are the stakes?” 

Ellie swirled the beer in her hand, feigning nonchalance. “Just a little wager. Not even that big of a deal.” 

Rooster’s gaze sharpened. “Ellie,” he warned, stretching her name out like he already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. “What did you bet?” 

She shook her head, waving a hand dismissively, the picture of a kind of casual confidence she wasn’t sure she had a firm grip on. “When I win, he owes me a favour.” 

Rooster nodded slowly, lips pursing. He looked like a mom listening to a kid’s genius plan to build a backyard rollercoaster—nothing but duct tape and optimism. Encouraging. Skeptical. “And if he wins?” 

Ellie hesitated and when Rooster’s brows shot up, comically high, she knew she’d paused just a fraction too long. 

“Ellie—” 

“—I owe him a favour,” she admitted, finally meeting his gaze. Though, she suspected Rooster already guessed as much by the way he was looking at her right now, unblinking and gaze set at the 100-yard mode. 

Rooster blinked after a stretch, then groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You really let Hangman name the stakes?” 

“Relax, Rooster,” she said, bumping his arm lightly. “It’s just a game. Don’t be such a mother hen. I’m good at this.” 

He looked at her like she had just announced she was about to arm-wrestle a shark; climb Everest without oxygen; walk barefoot across a floor littered with broken glass and rusty nails.  “Yeah, except you know he’s gonna milk this for all it’s worth if he wins.” 

Ellie exhaled—she’d already considered the possibility, contemplated that if she underestimated him and lost, the favour she owed Jake wouldn’t be one she’d like. Still, she shrugged it off. “Good thing I don’t plan on losing.” 

Rooster muttered something under his breath about people who made reckless bets with smug pilots, but he didn’t argue further. Instead, he clinked his beer bottle against hers. “Then you better wipe the floor with him.” 

Ellie grinned. “That’s the idea.” 

Rooster stepped up to the table as Jake removed the triangle, and disappeared from her line of vision, “if you’re breaking first, you’re going to want to—” 

The sound of a new song, loud and tune distinctive started overhead and both she and Rooster paused to look up. 

On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round, and they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found— 

Jake stood at the jukebox, grinning like he’d just won a jackpot. A tap on the machine—his lucky charm—then he turned, locking onto Ellie as he strolled back. 

The head nurse spoke up, Said, “Leave this one alone,” She could tell right away, That I was bad to the bone 

“Really?” she scoffed, stepping up to grab a cue from the rack on the wall behind him before she rolled her eyes. 

“Just setting the tone,” He took the Budweiser another pilot Ellie recognized as Lt. Javy “Coyote” Machado handed him and slowly took a sip, watching her steadily. 

“Yeah? And what tone is that?” 

Jake grinned, leaning a little closer like he was about to let her in on a secret. “That’s for you to decide.” He twisted his wrist, producing the cue ball and holding it out to her. 

Rooster snorted across the table. “Jesus, Seresin.” 

Coyote crossed his arms, smirking. “I got twenty bucks that says Hangman wins this one.” 

“Just twenty?” Phoenix stepped up beside Rooster as Ellie plucked the ball from Jake’s hand. “Doesn’t sound like you have much faith in Bagman. I’ll put fifty on my new best friend embarrassing him.”    Jake sucked his teeth as he picked up a cue of his own. “Trace, you wound me.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Anyone else want to bet against me?”    At a nearby high-top, Fanboy snorted, shaking his head, and Bob half-raised his hand.  

“You all really think she can take me?” 

Phoenix was already handing the bill to Coyote. Bob shifted on his stool, pulling out his wallet. “I think she’s about to embarrass you, and I, for one, am here for it.” 

Jake turned back to Ellie, leaning against his cue stick. “Alright then, Rigby. Let’s give the people what they want.” 

“No time like the present.” 

“Ladies first,” his smirk remained firmly in place. 

Ellie’s eyebrow quirked momentarily before she took a steadying breath and placed the cue ball on the table. She took her time chalking her cue as she studied, already quietly calculating angles, but her mind drifted for a moment.  

Wolfman had never let her win at anything, especially not pool. Neither had Slider or her dad. 

Not once. 

Between the three of them, she’d managed a grand total of two victories her entire life—one when Wolfman had been three drinks deep and too cocky for his own good, another when Slider had been too distracted trash-talking Mav to notice her creeping ahead.

It used to piss her off, losing over and over, until she started playing against other people and realized—oh. They’d been making her better. Pushing her. Every loss sharpening her instincts, every taunt stoking the fire in her belly. 

She planted her feet and lined up the shot. A clean stroke sent the cue ball crashing into the rack. The triangle shattered, and a striped ball dropped into the side pocket. She shifted position and sank another. 

Her next shot nudged a solid away from an easy pocket. 

Offense and defense go hand in hand, little Neven, Slider used to say, knocking her perfectly lined-up shots out of play. Focus too much on scoring, and you’ll hand your opponent the game. 

Jake let out a low whistle. But she saw it—the way his eyes flickered across the table, already calculating. A moment later, he lined up and sank two shots before missing his third. 

He straightened, offering her a slow, knowing wink. “Let’s see if you can keep up.” 

Ellie exhaled sharply through her nose. Not getting in my head, Seresin. She met his gaze, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Hangman.”  

The second she bent at the waist, lining up her shot, she felt it—the shift in him. 

Jake was moving around the table in a lazy orbit, slow and sure. She could feel his eyes on her and the heat creeping up her body. He’d clearly taken it as a personal challenge to wedge himself inside of her, any way he could. 

It wasn’t innocent. She knew it. Just like she knew what he was doing every time he called her Ace, when he’d sipped her coffee without asking, locking eyes like he was daring her to stop him. He was playing a game only they knew, moving to a beat only they could feel. 

As he approached, the brush of his gaze passed over her back where she could feel the gap between the hem of her tank, down the lines of her legs where her jeans hugged against her curves. She felt his gaze lingering somewhere decidedly publicly inappropriate before sliding back up. It was almost clinical, in that maddening way Ellie associated with him—assessing, measuring, like he was waiting to see if she’d react, waiting to see how far he could push her. 

Yet knowing what he was doing didn’t stop her from having to fight the feelings he kicked up; a growing heat coiling low in her abdomen, the fuzzy feeling that licked at the edges of her reasoning thoughts of him filling her mind like confetti snowing down from the rafters of her subconscious. 

Welcome to Masterclass, meet Jake Seresin. Today, he will be teaching you how to make your knees weak and think about his mouth way too much. 

She took a breath, pushing the distraction aside, sweeping away the shredded paper littering her thoughts, focusing on the shot. Just her, the cue ball, and— 

“Christ, Hangman, stop hovering. It’s cheating.” 

Rooster’s voice cut through her barely collected concentration, scattering her thoughts like a strong wind against a pile of raked leaves.  

Ellie let out a sharp exhale, straightening just as an argument kicked off to her left.

“Cheating? You think I’m using some kinda—what—telepathic distraction?” Jake scoffed, feigning offense as he leaned against his cue stick like he was above it all. “C’mon Rooster... have a bit of faith in your girl, here.”

Rooster wasn’t buying it. “You’re trying to distract her on purpose. It’s a cheap move.”

“Oh, please,” Jake snorted, rolling his eyes. “She’s not some rookie who’s gonna crack just ‘cause I happen to exist near the table.” 

“Nah. You happen to exist near her, not just the table,” Fanboy cut in, joining the fray, shaking his head animatedly. He was stepping in close to Jake now, invading his personal space, before stepping back and pointedly repeating his close step, “See, there’s a huge difference. You're hovering like a damn vulture while she’s trying to get a read on the shot.” 

Jake sighed as he leaned against his cue stick, but Ellie could hear the smile behind his voice, the look of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar passing over his face. “That’s slander.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s accurate,” Rooster shot back. 

“There’s no rule against existing around the table.” Coyote cut in, waving his hands from where he sat, “completely unbiased opinion, here.” 

“Oh sure,” Phoenix scoffed, “it’s got nothing to do with the fact you bet a clean $150 on your buddy here?” 

Ellie dragged a hand down her face, shaking her head, while the peanut gallery continued their debate over whether Hangman’s presence alone constituted cheating.

“You’re all giving me a headache,” she muttered, grabbing her beer, taking a sip and advantage of the well-timed break from her thoughts before shifting her focus back to the table. 

Jake, undeterred, leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping low enough for only her to hear. “You know, Rigby,” he murmured, eyes still gleaming with mischief, “if I am a distraction... you could always return the favour.” 

Over his words, Ellie could hear the argument ignited anew with Fanboy shouting “See!” and Coyote reaffirming, phone gripped in his hand, that there was not a rule on proximity between players. 

Ellie didn’t look at him, instead she reset her stance, her gaze refocused on the shot, but she couldn’t fight the shiver that rolled through her. His chuckle told her he’d seen. 

In response, she adjusted her shot quickly, pulled back—this time purposefully ramming her elbow into his ribs with enough force to make him grunt. She felt the slight recoil of his body, the subtle flinch, and the way his breath hitched for just a second before he recovered. 

 A smile threatened to crack her lips, but she bit it back, following through with her shot and sinking the striped ball into the far corner pocket without hesitation. 

When she stood again, he was rubbing his ribs, a quiet laugh escaping him as he straightened. “Well,” he drawled. “Didn’t know we were playing dirty.” 

Ellie smirked, slow and victorious. “Guess you’re learning something new about me, then. Let’s call it a tactical adjustment.” 

The game had taken longer than Ellie had anticipated. She’d missed more shots than she cared to think about, but to her surprise, Jake wasn’t faring much better.  

The bets had stopped rolling in closer to the middle of the game, but occasionally, someone dared to add to the pot. 

Dutifully, Coyote announced the amount had hit $532. Since, there hadn’t been much chatter, just groans and murmurs when shots were taken and cheers when the person the gathered crowd bet to win sunk balls. 

Early, Ellie had pulled ahead. Jake hadn’t let her keep the lead for long though. His smart aleck remarks had died down when he settled into the competitive nature between them, his brow furrowed as he lined up shots, so he resembled more of the man in the photo on his personnel file.  

Jake’s eyes tracked her. He brushed against her arm—light, deliberate. The contact crackled.  

Ellie swallowed. “You’re in my way, Hangman.”  

He smirked, unbothered. 

Now, Ellie stared down the eight ball as she lapped the table for a second time. The music played in the background as she took a slow breath, forcing herself to block out the noise of the bar. 

One shot.

That’s all it would take. 

One shot and she’d have him beat. 

Halfway through her second pass she stopped, settling on the angle square in front of Jake. Rolling the chalk in her palm before she tipped it over the cue, Ellie let the practiced motion bring her an iota of calm before she moved into position.  

In that moment, her eyes beginning to focus on the ball and the far pocket she wanted to send it into, Ellie felt the air shift, just slightly. 

The scrape of a chair in the relatively quietened bar was easy to hear. Heavy boots on the floorboards. Then—  

“Careful now, Rigby. Hate to see you choke when the stakes are high.” 

Ellie’s grip tightened on the cue stick. She didn’t have to look up to recognize the voice—the easy drawl carried the kind of casual arrogance that made her skin crawl, barely veiled behind a Virginian twang. 

She stood just in time to see Teak shoulder his way to the front of the crowd gathered around the table. He wasn’t looking at her, not directly—his attention drifting lazily around the bar, like he had only just now taken notice of the game, like he wasn’t deliberately disrupting her focus when she just about had the game in the bag. 

“Course,” he added, finally flicking his gaze to Jake, who had taken up a relaxed posture near Coyote, arms folded across his chest. “I guess Hangman here don’t mind putting on a show. Get that pot nice and fat.” 

Ellie could feel the stiffness in her shoulders. Teak’s words were light, almost offhanded, as if it were a second thought, but she could hear what was really being said beneath them. The implication that Jake was letting her think she could win just to make a spectacle. 

Jake, to his credit, barely reacted. He let out a small, amused hum and tilted his head toward Teak. At his side, Coyote was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

“Appreciate the concern, Hughes,” Jake said easily, his response coming quickly. “But I gotta tell you—if I was throwing the game, I’d have done a better job losing.” 

A few people in the crowd chuckled. Teak’s mouth twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but he let out a short breath and pushed off from the high-top table he’d been leaning against. 

“Ignore him,” Rooster shifted, his eyes sliding over to Teak for only a moment. If she were a boxer Ellie imagined that he might have pulled out a small stool, a dampened rag and patted her forehead, handing her a water bottle. “He’s looking to stir shit up.” 

She was trying, but she could feel Teak’s smirk, the weight of his stare, waiting for the moment she’d fold, flinch. Teak was every high school bully with something to prove, someone to put down. 

Ellie nodded at Rooster before turning back toward the table. Carefully, she set her stance. Blocked Teak out. Focused. 

One shot. 

She aimed. The eight ball caught the light overhead, and Ellie pulled her cue back. As the stick slid forward in her hand, smooth and sure, the cue ball cracked against the eight ball aimed for the corner pocket—

—and just nudged the edge of the pocket before rolling away.  

A miss, by just a breadth.

The noise that followed was immediate. A mix of groans and murmurs, a few low whistles, some hisses. Someone muttered “damn” under their breath.

Ellie straightened; her eyes locked on the corner pocket where the ball had veered just off course by a fraction. She didn’t move. 

Didn’t react. 

She inhaled, slow and steady, forcing the heat of her frustration down before it could rise to the surface. Losing was part of the game. She’d learned to take it in stride, to tip her head and say good game like it didn’t matter, like it didn’t sink its teeth in and linger. But no matter how many times she’d lost before, she couldn’t remember the last time it felt like this. 

Still, she wouldn’t give Teak the pleasure of showing it. 

Jake stepped forward, lined up his shot, and sank it without hesitation—no mistake. 

A clean win. 

He straightened, rolling his shoulders loose, and this time, when his gaze found hers, there was only the quiet satisfaction of a victory earned. 

Ellie met his eyes, then gave him a sharp nod, a tight smile. “Good game, Seresin.” 

She turned and passed her cue to Rooster, then reached for the last sip of her beer. Only then did she let her fingers tighten slightly around the bottle, let herself take a steadying breath. She didn’t need to look at Teak. Didn’t need to see whatever smug amusement he was probably wearing like a second skin. Ellie would let him think what he wanted, btu she wouldn’t give him the reaction he was hoping for. 

As Ellie set the empty bottle down, Phoenix clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Hell of a game, Rigby,” she said, giving her a small shake. 

Bob nodded in agreement, offering her an encouraging smile, his large-framed glasses magnifying the sincerity in his eyes. “You had him sweating there for a second.” 

Fanboy, always one to keep things light, grinned. “Pretty sure half the bar was rooting for you. Next time, make him work for it a little more, yeah?” 

Ellie huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head before she turned back to Jake. “Guess that means I owe you a drink.” 

Jake smirked, stepping aside to let her pass. “Careful now. I might start thinking you actually like me.” 

Ellie didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply, just rolled her eyes and started toward the bar, weaving through the lingering crowd. It wasn’t until she reached the counter, resting her elbows on the polished wood, that she allowed herself to breathe. 

She could feel it still—Teak’s words, the weight of his presence, the way they clung like a shadow even now. 

But he wouldn’t see that. Not if she could help it.  

Some of the crowd had drifted toward the pool tables, others toward the booths lining the far side of the room now that the game was over. Ellie waved at the bartender, signaling for two drinks before she leaned against the bar, her elbows braced against the polished wood.  

She could still feel the annoyance blistering just under the surface. Not at losing—she could handle that—but at missing. At letting Teak get under her skin with only a few words, both said and unsaid. 

She felt the brush of leather on her arm as someone moved to stand beside her and before she turned her head, she knew. 

“Not going to lie. Thought you’d take off after that embarrassing miss,” Teak drawled, his tone smug. “Figured you’d be licking your wounds somewhere quiet.” 

Ellie didn’t move to give him more space, accepting a glass of whiskey as Penny slid two across to her. “Still here. Guess that means I'm tougher than you thought.” 

Some small, smug part of her wanted to tell Teak that he wasn’t as intimidating as he thought he was. She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t the first pilot to try to make her feel like she was an outsider, a woman in a man’s world. She wanted so badly to tell him that if he was trying to push her out, he’d have to try harder. Instead, she kept quiet, took a sip of her whiskey and bit the inside of her cheeks. 

Teak huffed a laugh, leaning in, his elbow sliding across the bar to nudge hers, jostling the glass in her grip slightly. “Or maybe just too stubborn to take the hint.” 

Ellie turned to face him before she could stop herself, leveling him with a stare. “That supposed to mean something?” 

“Only that some people don’t know when they’re outmatched.” He gave her a smirk, his eyes flicking down, lingering just a beat too long and then finding their way back to lock onto hers. “But hey, I like that in a woman.” 

Ellie’s fingers tightened around her glass, but she kept her expression neutral. 

If ick were a person, she was certain it would be Teak. 

“Good for you,” she said flatly, shaking her head as if trying to ask if his criteria for a woman he would be interested in was supposed to mean something to her. 

Teak ignored the disinterest in her voice and pulled a crisp hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, sliding it across the bar toward her. 

“Tell you what,” he said. “Here, for the drink. Consider it a consolation prize.” 

Ellie barely spared it a glance before pushing it back toward him stiffly. “I don’t take handouts. Thanks.” 

Teak chuckled, slow and self-satisfied, before flicking the bill right back at her, the bill fluttered momentarily, landing on her forearm. “Keep it, sweetheart. I insist. Buy yourself something pretty. Might make losing a little easier to swallow.” 

She had already turned to face Teak, her whole body shifting as her skin prickled, heart beat loud in her ears, before she knew what she was doing. She had just opened her mouth to speak when a firm clap landed on Teak’s shoulder. 

Jake. 

Ellie stared Teak down, unblinking as Jake shook Teak slightly, his vibe decidedly buddy-buddy. She hated to admit it, but his presence alone was a relief, a splash of cold water on a hot surface. 

“Don’t think you’ll have much luck with Rigby, Hughes,” Jake said, his voice easy, like the set of his shoulders didn’t suggest he was already gearing up to yank Teak away from the bar by the scruff of his leather jacket. Jake’s eyes flicked up to catch Ellie’s and it was enough to shake her out of her murderous trance. “I’ve been tryin’ all week.” 

Teak let out a laugh, though it sounded forced. “That right? Guess I’ll leave it to you then.” He slid away from the bar, tossing a glance between Ellie and Jake before he added, almost as an afterthought, a swipe. “Taming of the shrew and all that. Good luck, Seresin.” 

She’d already turned back to the bar, sliding the second whiskey over to the spot Teak had vacated, when Jake slipped in beside her, shoulder to shoulder. 

“Surprised you know enough about Shakespeare to reference it,” she said, only a murmur, mostly under her breath and into her glass. 

Jake let out a low chuckle, tossing a look over his shoulder. “I don’t think he heard that, Ace,” he said, picking up his glass. “You’d better call him back over so he can take his insult like a man.” 

Ellie shot him a dry look. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” 

After a beat of silence, Ellie pushed the crisp hundred-dollar bill toward him. “I think that’s yours,” she said. 

Jake glanced at it, then at her, one brow ticking up. A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

“You trying to pay me off, Rigby?” 

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “Not a chance,” she said, then tilted her head, considering. “Besides, I think it’d take more than that to make you forget I owe you a favour now.” 

Jake let out a small chuckle, taking the bill and, without hesitation, stuffed it straight into the tip jar behind the bar. The bartender, catching the movement, shot him a surprised look, but Jake just lifted his drink in acknowledgment. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, lifting her own glass. 

“Show-off,” she muttered, struggling to keep the smirk off her lips. 

Jake grinned. “Always.” 

After a beat, Jake broke the silence. 

“Thought you were supposed to wipe the floor with me?” 

“I think both you and I know that I would have.” Ellie raised her eyebrow at him, shaking her head. “If it wasn’t for Teak. You set something up with him earlier?” 

Jake only shrugged, a smirk on his lips as he set his glass down. “Still won, you know.” 

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head as she stepped up to the bar. “I almost had you.” 

Jake’s grin widened, slow and infuriating. “A win is a win. You know what they say about almosts—horseshoes and hand grenades, Rigby.” 

Ellie shook her head, but she couldn’t quite stop the amused huff that slipped out. “You would say that.” 

“Damn right, I would.” 

She let her eyes flick over to the pool table, where her cue stick rested against the edge before Bob gathered it up and Phoenix set the table for a new game. “You got lucky. Next time, I’m not going to let you distract me.” 

Jake lifted a brow, the waves of confidence that rolled off of him almost contagious. “Darlin’, if I distracted you, that sounds like a you problem.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, turning back toward the bar. “I think I’ll need another drink if I’m going to keep listening to all this trash-talk.” 

Jake laughed, low and pleased, as she raised a hand to signal Penny— 

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jacket and without thinking, fished it out. 

She barely glanced down before she saw the contact’s name, glowing stark against the dark screen. 

Dad. 

The name on the screen was small, unassuming. But it hit her like a gut punch. 

The small ease she’d allowed herself—the quiet space she’d let herself slip into, without pressure, without expectancies, the one where she was just Ellie, and this was just a bar with co-workers—collapsed in an instant. 

Reality came rushing back in, sharp-edged and relentless, filling the space where her ease had been like cold water flooding from a broken dam. 

The music faded. The laughter blurred. The warmth of the Hard Deck, the press of bodies, the lingering, teasing glances from Hangman—all of it dimmed beneath the weight of that name. 

Ellie let the call ring out, her eyes still stuck on the screen that blinked up at her from her hand. It rang twice more before the screen went dark. Her fingers curled subtly against the bar, a small anchor, a way to keep herself here instead of wherever that call wanted to pull her. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d let it go to voicemail. Wouldn’t be the last. 

She exhaled slowly, blinking hard, forcing herself to shake it off. But she had the sense that Jake noticed. His silence was enough to tell her as much. 

That for all his cocky, easygoing bravado, he was sharper than most gave him credit for. That he saw something shift in her, saw the tension lock into place where ease had been just moments before. 

But he didn’t say a word. 

Didn’t ask. 

Didn’t push. 

The silence between them stretched, taut but unspoken. She could still feel the phone in her hand, the phantom weight of it even after she slipped it into her pocket. 

She reached for her jacket, shaking it out, slipping it on with steady hands that she wasn’t sure felt as steady as they looked. 

“Calling it a night?” Jake’s voice was light, but his gaze wasn’t. 

She nodded, already stepping away. “Yeah. See you around, Hangman.” 

She didn’t wait for his response. 

Didn’t look back. 

She just stepped out into the cool night air, inhaled deep, and let the door swing shut behind her—like that could keep the past from following her outside. 

a/n: i have protective jake kink. ask me how much i fucking love him sticking it to teak subtly. also, i can't wait to write out the next few chapters. so so much planned.

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[formiito]

infinity aria ; prologue

fyodor dostoevsky x gn! reader. synopsis: two souls inexplicably intertwined, only for one to kiss death again and again, and for the other to stand witness. throughout the lifetimes, he watches you seek him out, curiously watching you seal your fate. read on ao3

warning : canon typical violence, mentions of death

author's note: holy SHIT i'm doing a series for once. this fic is set in the past, but eventually will become canon compliant. this is a reincarnated! reader fic. the chapters will be considerably longer (i'm aiming 2.5-3k words everytime, but this one will be short because it's a prologue. 

Unnerving.

  That was the first word you could think of to describe the feeling that seemed to crawl like a spider up the webbings of your veins when you entered the hall; this giant, grotesquely adorned opera hall with ceilings high enough to make one feel infinitely small, the arches too high to properly glean at the painted reliefs on them. The marble floor of the hall remains empty save for a few groups of guests. The linen note you received yesterday crumples in your tight grip. It states clearly in cursive, inked with clarity— that this was, or rather, should be the correct time and place for you to be here. With your best attempt, you try not to look lost, not keeping the eye or conversation of anyone for long enough to be able to feel the full weight of their gaze. Unremarkable people in their own right, yet the stateliness that their haughty gazes carried made their gaze a weight that rested heavily on your shoulders. Somehow, their superimposed, silent pride had made it a lot harder to freely move, every action carefully noted and judged, as if they were the sole authority worth doing so. Tonight only, they were all birds of a feather.

  You usher yourself into an adjacent room, pushing a heavy door on the far right side of the hall. Pinching at the hem of your opera gloves, your velveteen fingers lock the door behind you. When you turn around, you see the sender of the note in your palm, with his hands clasped in front of him. A pale young man, gracile and willowy in build, with unreadable yet deep eyes and pale pink lips curled in a sardonic, yet cordial smile. He was dressed in the fashion of the times; a violet cravat neatly tucked into his shirt, matching to the dim shade reflected in his eyes, a small brooch in the shape of an angel’s wings. Owing to the harsh weather, a winter overcoat was draped over the fineries, lined with fur— understated and respectable, yet not standing out. A glint of silver shines under his sleeve, hardly noticeable; not that of a watch or a bracelet, but the tip of a dagger.

  You have no reason to believe that the reveal is not intentional. 

  In your life, you have only ever met Fyodor Dostoevsky four times in person; your correspondence has been limited to perfumed letters that are burned soon after they are read. The first time was in a chapel, his form sitting in a pew with unmoving tranquility, like that only ever found in placid, glacial lakes—counting the beads of his rosary although his mouth had not once moved in prayer. You do not recall why you spent so much time watching him, yet he seemed to command your attention with not so much as a word. He could keenly feel your observation, but for some reason you could not tell, he only glanced at you with a knowing smile, whispered a morning greeting, and left.

  The second time, it was in midst of the crowd that followed a public execution, though you remember not what misdeed had led that young man to the scaffold, barely of age. A short drop; you saw the deadly tie placed around that man’s neck, the force not immediately snapping his neck, but rather slowly cutting off his breath, leaving him hanging limp off the rope. You did not wait long enough to see him pass away, but you heard the man next to you mumble something about how 'there's no hope for them, there's no hope for any of them…’ Rather than sadness or contemplation, there was a tone of cruel, self aware irony in his intonation.

  Fyodor had stayed behind, observing the condemned man a few minutes more. 

  The third time, it was through an associate of yours. While you could not fathom why a seemingly devout man would associate with criminals, especially those that specialized in the matter of political assassinations, you did not question your new patron much. So long as he provided his support, it would be unwise to question generosity out loud. It would not be the first time people wore religion like a disguise for their actions, a pretty accessory that could be discarded at will. It wasn't until the past three months that he started becoming more actively involved in these…projects of sorts, and while you could not help but wonder how he seemed to convince your usually suspicious and steadfast superiors so quickly, he had still not given you a reason to question him. That first night you had worked with him is only a fuzzy memory now. By the time you had even reached the location, he was already leaving. When he closed the door behind him, he only expressed formal concern about the late hour and your return home, suggesting that he shall fetch a coach for the both of you. 

  While his back was turned, your fingers reached tentatively for the doorknob, silently opening it. In the dim candlelight, the glimmer of still warm blood shone on the floors, the limp bodies of around five men with their eyes blown wide lay scattered around the study. You were no stranger to bloody sights, however, the reason your mouth had become dry and your head felt heavy was not the slaughtered bodies of those targets, but rather the one in the centre. 

  Fyodor Dostoevsky, laying decidedly dead, with a bullet lodged in the middle of his eyes. 

  You closed the door the moment you caught a glimpse of that sight. Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. It had to be, for the man you know to be Fyodor was currently not too far ahead of you, standing on the edge of the road and talking to a coach. You wondered why he hadn't locked the door after the deed was done. If he had intended for you to see what you had. The ride home had passed in silence, and you bid him a quiet farewell, head swirling from the events of the night.

  Tonight is the fourth time you have laid your eyes upon this strange man. One who has strangely made himself a recurring thought in your mind, an unwitting parasite. Usually, you had no choice but to curb your curiosity regarding certain people, given that asking too many questions could at best result in a stern rebuke or at worst, pointed violence. In that way, the new patron’s serene demeanor was disarming, yet could not entirely dispel the suspicion you kept close like an old friend. Before you could lose yourself in your silent perusal of his character any longer, the sound of his voice brings you back from your musings. 

  “Punctual, good. I trust you know what we're here for, so let us begin. Have you brought the vial?”

  The glass sits cool near your skin, and with a quick reach from your pockets, you produce the item. The liquid inside was clear, smelling like nothing in particular; the vial itself was shaped like those typically used to store smelling salts; slightly darker in color. A blend of arsenic and atropa belladonna distillates, or so you have been told. The vial he had given you looked worn, your thumb could feel the scratches on the glass and an weathered old apothecary label that read an year and initials. For F.D, 1606.

  These details remain in your memory, but they are like some sort of eccentric joke; disjointed and without meaning. Fyodor takes the vial, inspecting it for a moment, before giving it back. “It’s not full…but it will be enough for our task. Our guest will be in the box owned by his family, number five if my memory serves me. It will be high enough for no one to see you. The poison will take about an hour to act, and by that time the after party would have begun. Escort him down to keep up appearances, then lead him to one of the greenrooms. They will be empty at this hour. Wait till the body drops, and then meet me in the gardens with the corpse.” 

  You nod, movements a little exaggerated to combat the stiffness in your limbs. The stubborn feeling that accompanied the onset of missions like these; an ache in your head that felt as though someone was tightening an imaginary cord round your head. The feeling of bile in your throat that won't yet rise; no, that was reserved for after the body is buried. The danger makes you nauseous with anxiety, always has. Yet even as you hear the details of the disposal of the body, repeated by the man in front of you in a clinical tone, you hold yourself well. Back straight, looking at him directly, words uttered only with deliberation and no syllable empty when you discussed the details with him further; this is what you were made for.

  Your composure is admirable, he thinks, if only you knew who exactly you were attempting to fool. 

  “Are you nervous?” He asks, without pity or mockery.

“No. Does something make you think so?” 

“You are to kill a man in front of half the city, I would expect you to be nervous.”

You shake your head. “It’s what must be done.”

“I wonder if you say so with duty, or with compulsion?”

  You run the words you are about to say carefully in your head, numerous times. Conversations were not a means of amusement to you, but rather a delicate game. The most convincing lies are poisoned by truth. 

  “They're one and the same.”

Fyodor's expression shifts, the slight mocking lift of the corners of his lips disappearing. There is sympathy where the lights meet the cold violet in his eyes. Not the kind of sympathy that results from care, but sort of a cynical disappointment that communicates that he was expecting something different; you recognize it, for you have seen it in several places. In your friends, in the eyes of confessional priests through the wood mesh, in the men you work for. Where expectations die. “I must say, it is regrettable that you think so. But for a person in your situation, it was unsurprising. For the time being, this will suffice; now, head to the box hallway, the overture should begin soon. One last thing…”

  “Yes?” You pocket the vial, ready for your cue to leave.

  “... Your hands are trembling. It is unsightly, see to it before anyone else notices.” 

  The tremble of your velvet fingers stops once you begin to think about it consciously. Slightly embarrassed, you place your hands behind your back, clutching one with the other. It’s a strange feeling, for it's not the trembling that bothers you, but the fact that he could notice that small detail when his eyes seemed to be trained on your face the whole time.

  “Understood. Goodbye, then, I’ll see you once I’ve administered the poison.”

“I hope you'll be flawless in your execution this time as well. Good evening.”

  He gives a solemn nod, walking to the exit with light, fluid steps; movements as subtle and quiet as that of a ghost. As his back turns to you, your fingers itch to reach for the dagger on your thigh and thrust it into his neck, then twist and twist until you no longer feel seen in such an uncomfortably raw way. Till the discomfort of the moment fades and you no longer feel eyes in the back of your head even as he has walked out that door. When it shuts once more, you are left to quell the sudden rage that simmers under your skin, remembering what you are here for. 

    Unfortunately for you, Fyodor’s presence seeps into the mind like poison and sticks on it like honey.