#like ma’am respectfully i hope we Do Not

[goldensunset]

nemona being emotionally insensitive and oblivious yes girlie 💖

[turcott3]

goes without saying

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, fluff, talks of anxiety, kissing

masterlist

-

“thanks mom.” you say hopping out of the car.

“now let’s hope he shows up huh?” she teases, waving to you as you walked to your ballet studio. it was being your boyfriend to class day, except you didn’t have a boyfriend. so you invited the next best thing, your highschool best guy friend. whom you’d also had a major crush on for the last few years.

you asked him to come, which he agreed, but said he’d have to come straight after his post practice shower and who knows how long that could be. and he was your ride home.

you stood awkwardly in class as everyone chatted with their boyfriends, one of your class friends included. you checked your apple watch a few times hoping for a text or something and your anxiety only grew as you got nothing. a few minutes later class had begun and you sighed. knowing you’d have to be standing in the back practicing something else, since this week was all about lifts for big performances, being in class was almost something you dreaded these days. ballet being something you love while also tearing you apart. you began warm ups at the barre as normal, still holding out hope that he would come. you continued your warm up, making it all the way through barre and out into center, eventually accepting that he wasn’t gonna show, before the door creeped open, matt peering in to make sure he was in the right place, smiling once his eyes landed on you.

“so sorry i’m late ma’am, lot of traffic.” he smiles at your teacher as he joins you by your side.

“i heard you play hockey? and you were coming here after practice.”

“yes maam.”

“well good, means you’re still nice and warm. when did you two get together, i feel like i’ve never seen you together.” she teases, him taking it extremely well as he dropped an arm over your shoulder.

“well, i don’t really think there’s a date, we were friends and then suddenly we just knew we were more than that. and now here we are.” he replies and your heart jolts in your chest.

he made up that lie on the spot, to spare you the embarrassment. you shook it off knowing you were never actually more than that, even if you maybe have thought at some points you were.

“thank you for coming, i was so nervous to be the only person without a partner.”

“come on y/n, i told you i’d be here. i’ll always show up.” he giggles.

“alright now that we have everyone we can begin our simple lifts.” your teacher states. you were nervous because you had never done partner lifts before, and matt is 6 foot 7.

“oooooh i’m lifting you.” he teases.

“i’ve never done lifts before, im scared.”

“you know i’d never drop you.”

“i know, i know.” you said grabbing comfortably on his arm.

this class was not going to help your feelings toward him at all. you’ve had a crush on him for quite sometime and now he’s gonna have his hands planted on you for at least the next hour. the two of you stood and listened, soaking in the instructions of a simple lift. simply picking you up and holding your chest in line with his forehead, to get a feel for how the rest of class will go.

with ease, he picks you up, chest to eye level.

“don’t be looking.” you smile.

“i am respectfully looking because your black leotard is all i can see.” he says, practically feeling the vibrations of his voice on your ribcage.

“now if you’re feeling frisky, hold her up higher.” you teacher suggests, matt instantly boosting you up above his head like simba in the lion king.

“holy shit.” you yelp, grabbing harshly onto his arms.

“relax, everything is gonna be fine.” he giggles, bringing you to him as he brought you back down, standing flush against his chest.

“alright now let’s try holding her above your head like you’ve just done, but with her in arabesque. your one hand will grab hold of her thigh and the other on the hip somewhere between the bottom of her ribcage and her hip bone.” your teacher says.

“which leg do you like?” he asks, asking great questions.

“right.” you said, lifting your right leg off the ground, his hand softly cupping underneath.

“this feel okay?” he asks, referring to the hand holding your inner thigh.

“yes, it feels good.” you nod as he places his other hand on your hip.

“okay, are you ready?” he asks and you agree, him steadily lifting you off the ground. you found yourself in the position high above his head, adjusting your position to be more comfortable. you began to shake in discomfort, him dropping you slightly but instantly catching you, a giggle leaving his lips as the teachers voice rose again, his arm placing delicately around your waist, his hand rested gently on your hip. in response, you rested your hand on top of his, giving his hand a light squeeze.

by the time class was nearly over, you became more comfortable with him picking you up. the last lift you tried being the riskiest, you still trusted him, catching you every time you began to fall.

this class was not helping your case.

“now let’s come center for reverence.” your teacher says, matt placing you carefully back on the floor.

“i am not graceful at all.” he mumbles as you both followed her curtsy.

“this is why you don’t do ballet matt.” you giggle, concluding your class. matt began to walk away before you grabbed his hand, pulling you up close to the teacher and thanking her.

“oh uh, thank you for having me maam, i had a lot of fun.”

“well thank you for coming! i don’t think i’ve ever seen y/n smile this much during class. keep it up matt, you seem to be good for her.” she smiles, thank you both for attending before you exit the building out to matt’s car.

“im sorry again for being late.” he says, taking your bag from you and tossing it in his back seat.”

“it’s okay, i’m just glad you came.” you replied as you both sat in his car.

“i had a lot of fun.” he smiles.

“you know, you didn’t have to lie to her about us being together. you didn’t have to spare my embarrassment.”

“well i said it because i wanted to, not just to spare you.” he says pulling out of the parking lot.

“what do you- what do you mean?” you ask, spiraling.

“i guess that was me trying to make it known that i really fucking like you, and i was excited when you asked me to come do this with you.” he replies. you reach for his hand that rested on his thigh and moved it to your lap, intertwining your fingers as you smiled to yourself, his thumb brushing softly back and forth on the back of your hand.

“i like you a lot too matt.” you say, looking at his perfect side profile.

“glad we’re in the same page.” he giggles, bringing your conjoined hands to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. a blush burned on your face as he returned your hands to yourself lap.

“what a relief.” you giggle, giving his hand a little squeeze which he returned.

“do you really not ever smile that much in class?” he asks genuinely.

“well not really, i don’t really feel as close to my classmates and stuff. i don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“no no y/n, it’s not stupid. i get it. well if you want, and if you can, how about i come pick you up after your class every week and i take us out to eat? yeah? anything to keep you smiling.” he offers kindly.

“i mean, that would definitely be okay with me.” you reply.

everything he was doing made your heart leap in your chest, knowing now how much he really cared for you.

“do you wanna come over?” you ask abruptly.

“like tonight?” he asks, pulling to a stop at the restaurant you’d agreed to eat at the day prior, it being both of your favorite restaurant.

“yeah, like do you wanna stay over? listen i’m trying to be bold, i don’t really know if it’s working.” you giggle nervously. smoothly, he closes the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“it’s working.” he smiles, pecking your lips one more time before you both get out of the car.

you spent the dinner gushing over each other, adoring how much he spoke lovingly of his family. the closer you got, the more your feelings grew for the boy.

“matt you don’t have to pay for me.” you say lowly, the server asking how to do the check.

“i’m paying for it, sorry for the confusion maam.” he says to the server, turning his head back to you as he walked away.

“why are you paying for me?” you ask sternly.

“because this is a date isn’t it? it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to not pay.” he giggles, signaling for you to take his hands in the table, much to your dismay, you found your hands rested in his large ones.

“let me take care of you. i know you aren’t doing the best right now y/n. i may be a man, but i’m not blind, especially when i see a girl i really fucking care about struggling, okay?” he says firmly, sighing with contentment as he finished his sentence.

“okay.” you reply softly, letting go of his hands as the server returned with the check.

-

“you really are letting this thing get to you huh?” he asks as you lay on his chest, tracing circles on his skin as you cuddled innocently, both in your pajamas ready to sleep for the night.

“yeah i guess i am.” you reply, telling him about how torn you were about ballet.

“well how about this, you tell me when your next performance is, i will be there front row to watch you. i want you to keep going pretty girl, i just know you’re incredible. i wanna help you.” he says, running his gentle fingers up and down your back.

“thank you matt. i think just from class today that’s a big stride.” you giggle.

“i hope so.”

“anyways, why don’t we talk about something other than me before we go to sleep.”

“well why would i want to, i could listen to it all day.” he teases, a hint of genuineness behind his teasing tone.

“no, it’s selfish.” you giggle. the two of you spent the rest of the night talking about hockey, giggling over your favorite movies and shows and him listening to your college gossip. all stuff he didn’t know about but loved to hear anyway.

“i think it’s about time we go to sleep y/n.” he giggles after hours of chatting lovingly with you.

“yeah i guess your right.”

“but i can’t let you go to sleep like this.” he replies and you cock your eyebrow. he pulls himself away from you, laying on his side to face you.

“i have a question.” he says and your stomach drops.

“okay?”

“would you wanna maybe fall asleep tonight and wake up tomorrow, and like maybe spend forever and more as my girlfriend?” he smiles slowly as the words left his lips.

“yes matt, i would love to.” you giggle, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“sorry if that was tacky, i didn’t wanna be basic.” he giggles, pulling you toward him.

“it was perfect, thank you m’love.” you say pulling his lips to yours anxiously.

“anytime. now you better keep a smile on your face from now on, and i mean it. if you have any problems just come to me, you know i would never in a million years judge you, and also, i would love to come to ballet class again, it was a lot of fun.” he says resting his head on top of yours.

“i will matt, i promise you. and i will definitely let you know, who knows you may be the next big thing.”

“well i know i have a b-“

“now is not the time for a dirty joke asshole.” you giggle smacking him on the arm.

“i mean after all i AM just a man okay? dirty mind and all.” he scoffs.

“and it doesn’t change a single thing i feel for you.” you laugh as he kisses you one last time before you both drift off to sleep.

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

PART 2: 🚪 What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? 🚪

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: Your boyfriend takes you out to a nice restaurant, but you end up eating something not on the menu.

✎ CW: Oral sex, hand job, masturbation, kissing, public diddly-dooing, food play

✎ Word count: 2,666 😈

✩ A/N: Part 1: What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

The door swings open slowly, and the waiter appears, balancing a tray of shellfish in his hands. It takes a few seconds to see you, to register what he’s actually looking at: you jumping up out of Chan’s lap to stand next to his chair, face absolutely red as a cherry tomato.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waiter says, turning his eyes to the floor as he brings the tray to the table.

“No, I’m so sorry. We got carried away… this is entirely our fault I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely.

Chan can’t speak, nor can he wipe that stupid grin off his stupidly cute face.

“Honestly, ma’am, it’s not the worst thing I’ve walked in on…” the waiter says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. “We made signs in case things like this happen, in case people want to use this room for… more. I’ll put one on the door.”

He nods respectfully and disappears once again, shutting the door behind him. Your eyes meet Chan’s once you’re alone again, and your reactions couldn’t be more different.

While you fight every urge to melt into a puddle, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. The embarrassment you feel is unfortunately nothing compared to the sheer love and adoration you have for this goofy man and his breathy, squeaky laugh.

“We’re gonna get banned, you know,” you scold.

“Naur, he said this happens. We get a sign!” he says cheekily, standing and holding your face in his palms. “Our very own sign, sweetheart.”

“Oh god…” you sigh and bury your face in his chest, hoping if you push hard enough you can just bust through his ribs and live inside his torso and escape this awkward hell.

“Hey… it’s ok,” he comforts you, rubbing the back of your head. “On the bright side, now we can really get into it.”

Your head snaps back up.

“You… you cannot be serious,” you say incredulously.

“What? We have a sign now,” he reasons, rubbing your back. “We have to do something worthy of the sign.”

“You’re absolutely insatiable,” you say, lightly pushing off of his chest to return to your seat.

“Here, allow me,” he says, rushing to the back of your chair to move it closer to the table.

“No, you’re not a gentleman anymore, you can’t fool me.”

Chan places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to put his lips right next to your ear.

“Well, I may not be gentle,” he croons, “but I am your man.”

After the last word, his soft, wet lips meet your cheek and apply gentle pressure before disappearing again so he can rejoin you at the table, like civilized diners. He sits and smiles at you as he unrolls his napkin and turns his attention to the steaming tray of shellfish.

You pick up a clam and use a small fork to loosen it from its shell before sliding it into your mouth, and Chan does the same.

“How is it?” you ask as he chews.

“Really good, needs a little more salt, though,” he answers.

“Agreed,” you echo, reaching for the salt shaker between your plates, but his hand lands there first.

“Hold on,” he says, keeping his long fingers between you and the salt. “I kinda wanna try something.”

“What would that be?”

“How about a… different kind of… sauce?” he says, cheeks reddening more than you’ve ever seen and trying his best to hold back a giggle.

You raise one brow at him, waiting for him to elaborate on whatever ridiculous scheme he’s cooking up, but he just smirks at you.

“I’m not asking the waiter for extra shit after that…” you start.

“…nonono. I mean…” he sighs. “Do you really need me to specify?”

Your unwavering gaze screams yes.

“What if I add… a little taste of… Australia?” he says sheepishly. “You know…”

You completely lose control the moment realization hits, and you can’t contain your laughter.

“Chan… you want to… come in an oyster? Is that what you’re telling me right now?” you ask, barely getting the words out between deep breaths and long chuckles.

His pretty lips turn down into a frown.

“Hey… don’t laugh. I was trying to be… kind of sexy…” he says, voice dropping off at the end.

“Hey, it is. Kind of. It’s also incredibly silly,” you clarify, but one look at his embarrassed expression has you changing your tune.

“But…” you sigh. “I’m down.”

His gaze is still aimed down at his plate, but he perks up a little.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s silly, but…” he pauses and slowly runs his eyes up your chest, your neck, to land on your lips. “It would be kind of hot… watching you eat it…”

His lustful eyes plead with your mouth, like if he just stared enough he could get his come on your tongue. And at that moment, there’s nothing you want more than to give him what he wants.

“Well…” you start, picking up a larger oyster. “You said it needed more salt. Why don’t you help me out, then?”

You extend your arm across the table, offering the shellfish to him. He hesitantly reaches for it, but you can see the smile growing.

“My pleasure,” he finally says with a devilish grin. “Hold on…”

He gently takes the oyster from your hand and floats it over his plate, over the edge of the table, and down into his lap.

You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin, propping yourself up on the table with your elbows. Just watching him.

He fumbles for a bit, then looks back up at you.

“I don’t want to overwhelm your tastebuds, so I’ll start light,” he decides. “Just the appetizer version to sample, yeah?”

You hum in response, hypnotized by the way his shoulders and biceps flex and move. He reaches under the table and squeezes your knee before speaking again.

“Ok, here I go.”

You can’t see his hand work, but you’ve watched him enough to picture exactly what he’s doing out of view.

He’ll tightly grip his cockhead — not wasting time with the touching and teasing you enjoy when you’re at the helm — and he’ll stroke quickly. He’s much more no-nonsense, especially when the events that will follow are even more exciting than the sensation itself.

His bottom lip disappears between his teeth as his forearm moves up and down just enough to lure some of this… sauce… to the surface. But his eyes stay on your face — on your lips — as the rest of him shakes slightly.

“Almost…” he moans softly. “Just need… a little.”

Once he’s gathered an acceptable amount of precum in the shell, he stops and lifts it back above the table, and holds it above his plate. His dark eyes are glued to your lips, and his chest rises and falls gently.

“Well… what are you waiting for?” you ask, hand outstretched across the table. “Give it here.”

He hesitates, just for a second, then drops the oyster in your palm.

“I hope it tastes all right,” he says mischievously.

You lift the shell to your lips and tilt your head back, letting the oyster and the sauce slide onto your tongue. It sits there for a few seconds, the flavors sinking into your tastebuds.

“Sooooo, tell me,” Chan urges. “How is it? Enough salt?”

One eyebrow raises as you purse your lips and stare. Leaving him in suspense for a few more seconds can’t hurt. But then he tilts his head a little to the left and pleads with those pretty eyes, and you know you lost.

“Honestly?” you ask, and he quickly nods. “Not salty enough. I think you can do better.”

One side of his mouth pulls up and reveals that cute dimple. You knew this would get him; he can’t resist a challenge.

“Fine, give me another,” he says, reaching toward the tray, but you grab his wrist before his fingers touch a shell.

“No, let me.”

You slowly push your chair back and slide down, knees softly hitting the floor. Your hands touch the cool tile next as you begin to crawl under the table.

“Maybe we just need a better chef for this…” you purr. “Someone with more… delicate hands.”

Cold fingers surround his warm cock, and you let the rush of blood beneath his skin return your hand to a normal temperature before moving it up and down, up and down.

His head falls back and his big hands grip the armrests as you settle on your knees just in front of his chair. His legs part as wide as the chair will allow for you, for your hand, your lips…

You decide against teasing him more this time and just give him what he wants instead. After all, it’s what you want, too. And judging by the taste of his precum, you’re in for a treat.

One hand works slowly near the base while you close your lips around him. It’s gentle at first, like if you squeeze or suck too hard you might break him. And you’d hate to spill his metaphorical salt and bring on bad luck — the devil may appear over your shoulder, convincing you to do dirty things, evil things. But that does sound like fun…

You suck harder now, hollowing out your cheeks to apply wet pressure on all sides of him. And you take him in so deeply, just a little deeper with each bob of your head. Giving him more of you, more of your throat. But it’s not enough, because his hand is in your hair, pushing you further down into his lap.

“Ohhhhh my god,” he breathes, trying his best to stay relatively quiet. “Jesus christ…”

His fingers interlace with the long strands at the back of your skull, pulling you up and down at a comfortable pace. He’s not worried about speed, he just wants to feel all of you.

He wants to go as far into you as he can — and then some. Feel the pressure from your lips and your cheeks and your tongue and the small gap at the back of your mouth and the tight ridges at the top of your throat. He loves this, and he’s so fucking lucky you don’t have a strong gag reflex.

“Baby doll…” he trails off as he slowly fucks your mouth. “You feel amazing, oh my girl, my beautiful… ohhh…”

His hips slide forward in the chair, and his thighs start to quake. He’s close.

You slide your unoccupied hand over his legs and up between his torso and the table, keeping your palm open like you’re asking him to hand you something. He grabs your hand to hold it, though, and his touch is sweet and wonderful, but it’s not what you need right now.

“What?” he laughs as you shake him off. “What do you need, baby?”

You close your fingers and thumb together and open them slowly, trying to imitate the opening of a shell. He hands you a napkin, and you throw it back on the table. He tries a small plate next, and you do your best to place that one down gently.

“I don’t know what to give you, honey,” he sighs.

You try your best shellfish impression again, and he’s silent for a few seconds, then…

“OH!”

An oyster gently lands in your palm, and you pull it back down under the table. Chan chuckles to himself and you get back to work right as a knock sounds at the door.

“Everything ok in there, sir? Can I get you two anything?” the waiter asks.

“Uh, no, we’re fine! T-thank you!” Chan calls out, his voice surprisingly steady given the circumstance.

Footsteps recede down the hallway, and Chan speaks again in a hushed voice.

“You almost got us in trouble again.”

You pull back from his cock to defend yourself.

“No, that’s you and your big ass mouth,” you tease. “I know I feel amazing, but have some self-control.”

His soft laugh quickly turns into a breathy moan as you take him back into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat a few times before you switch to targeting his most sensitive spots.

One hand grips his base while the other cups his balls, and his hands are gripping the arms of his chair for dear life. Your tongue runs up and down his shaft, breaking the rhythm every now and then to circle his tip or press into his slit.

“Close, b-baby,” he whines. “G-get ready.”

Tongue laid flat across your bottom lip, you press into the underside of his head to wait for your treat. The oyster is nearby, too, ready to catch a little bit for itself.

He doesn’t make it easy, though. Chan comes in strong waves, the first shooting straight back into your throat, the next weakly rolling down your tongue and onto your chest, the third landing safely on the back of your tongue.

You move the oyster into the stream for a second or two, just long enough to get some flavor. The rest is yours to savor on its own.

The bitterness hits your tongue first, but the longer it swirls and lingers on your tastebuds, you get the sweet and tangy notes. You could drink an entire glass of him.

“Fuck…”

You push his chair back and crawl forward enough to stand without hitting your head. His eyes find your face for the first time since you crawled under the table, and his lips pull into a wide smile.

“Oh god,” he giggles. “You look, uh.”

Your hand goes to your hair — the tangled mess that was once your nice date night hair. And you can feel the sticky warmth on your lips, your chin, your chest. You must look ruined.

“Well, let’s see if it was worth it,” you chirp, leaning back to sit on the edge of the table and slip the oyster into your mouth.

Your eyebrows pull down as you assess the flavors. Salty is more than covered this time, and that tangy sweetness complements the shellfish perfectly. It’s surprisingly actually really good. But you can’t let him off that easily.

“Hmmmmm,” you muse, staring up and off into the corner of the room. But you sneak a glance at his face — his sweet, anxious, expectant face — and those warm, loving eyes, and you can feel yourself losing the battle once again.

“Please, how is it?” he asks, almost pleadingly. His chest still rises and falls and his neck glistens with a few drops of sweat in the most beautiful way. Who are you kidding? You can’t resist him.

“Honestly, baby? It’s pretty fucking good,” you admit.

Somehow, his smile gets even wider, and he pulls you into his lap again. His gorgeous eyes stare into yours in the sweetest mix of love and pride as he pulls you close for a gentle kiss. Noses still touching afterward, he speaks.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

“I thought I already did that,” you quip and reattach your lips.

He smiles into the kiss and tightens his hold around your waist, and then there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello again, just checking in,” the waiter says from the hallway.

Chan looks up at you with nothing but joy and adoration in his eyes when he yells, “Actually, we’re gonna make out for the next half hour, so if you could come back after, that would be great.”

“Of course sir, I’ll set a timer,” the waiter says, and you think you can hear him laugh.

“Guess we have a half hour then,” you tease, physically unable to hold back your smile.

“Better make the most of it,” he replies, pulling you impossibly close for yet another mind-blowing kiss.

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🏷️ @drhsthl @3rachasninja @channieand08 @ikykleeknowww @anjian3 @tooskathepiratefromshield @channiesbabygirl 🏷️

[wife-tober2024]

King Consort (10/1)

Isa  strode through the halls of the ship taking stock of the panels that had started to rust and the lights that were almost too dim to see by. Their home was in desperate need of repair, but what could she do? The Norton had been independent from the Fleet for generations. She would not be the leader that went crawling back to them. If the leaders before her made it work, then she would too.

The walk to the Organic District was always the highlight of Isa’s day. Despite having a variety of plants around the ship, it was the Organic District that made her feel truly at peace. The cavernous space was filled with plants of all shapes and sizes, though predominately it was used was to grow food. Over time Isa knew the citizens wanted, no needed, more. Soon the space was expanded to accommodate the growth of household plants. Not only did it help with moral, but the health of everyone aboard improved as well. Citizens could request a plant for their homes or petition for a few in public spaces. The Organic District however still housed the majority. 

Isa slowly made her rounds through the vegetable gardens, observing the Gardeners as they worked and nodding respectfully as they bowed before returning to their work.

“Queen Isa!” A short young woman called, leaning around a trellis covered in grape vines. “You’re just in time! Some of the harvest is ready. Have some!” Isa struggled to place the girls face. With so many citizens aboard she couldn’t quite remember everyone’s name no matter how hard she tried. Instead she glanced down at the bucket in her hand filled with grapes. She plucked a few from the top, popping one into her mouth with a satisfied moan.

“These are perfect! Make sure you visit the school with your first batch before delivering the rest to the kitchens.”

“Already done! I took them earlier this morning.”

“Wonderful.” She place another in her mouth, tucking it into her cheek before continuing. “What would we do without you all.” Isa raised her voice, hoping the others working diligently around them would hear the praise. She patted the woman on her back before continuing her rounds. 

After her diligent circuit around the gardens Isa came to a stop at the edge of the dome. This was her favorite spot on the whole ship. Tucked far away from everything was a small park few seemed to ever frequent. Well trimmed trees and bushes blocked off much of the area, making it feel like a whole new world away from the chaos of the ship. Isa liked to take a moment to stare out the dome at the vastness of space and just, breathe. 

Isa pressed her back to a tree, sliding down as she released a deep exhale. For just a few moments she could forget she was Queen of the Norton and just be Isa. She nibbled the grapes she carried as she stared out, so stuck in her own head she almost missed the the blinking lights off in the distance. Isa stood, pressing as close to the glass as she could as she squinted. Yes it was there. A ship. As it drew closer Isa could make out the distinctive features that told her this was another ship from the Fleet. 

When was the last time they had been visited by another ship in the Fleet? Not in her lifetime for sure and if she could remember their history correctly, which she often didn’t, it wasn’t anytime during the last ruler’s reign either.

Shoving the last of the grapes into her mouth Isa quickly but calmly hurried back through the ship to the Hub. Just as she passed the guards and entered the room she could make out a crackling over the communications system.

“Say that again,” her viceroy said as he adjusted dials. He looked up as she approached giving her a frustrated shrug as he spoke away from the microphone. “These things haven’t been used in years Ma’am. I think we just have to match with the frequency of the approaching ship to clear the line of communication.” He turned the dials a moment more before the static lowered to a soft almost nonexistent hum.

“This is the general of the Yutan. Signal seems to be strong now. Can you confirm?”

“Yes General we hear you clearly now,” her viceroy said.

“Good. It’s good to hear from you. It’s been far too long.”

“What can we do for you general…?” Her viceroy let the question hang, signaling to their own general to be alert.

“General Karvin. The ruler of Yutan is requesting a meeting with your leader.”

The Viceroy glanced at Isa, who contemplated for only a moment before nodding. “You have our interest. Dock at bay 3, but please wait for our signal to disembark.”

“Understood. We will signal when we are coupled.” The line when silent, the absence of static causing an awkward silence as everyone turned to Isa.

“I suppose we should see what they want.” She turned to the general who had stationed himself to her left. “I want a small escort. We don’t know what they want so we need to remain cautious.” The general bowed to her and turned, signaling for three other guards stationed around the room to join him. 

Isa turned toward her rooms, the ornate door to the left of the Hub flanked by more of her ever present guards. In her rooms she quickly changed, secretly happy to finally have a reason to wear the ceremonial dress she had so few opportunities to show off. It was passed down through the rulers, worn by queens and queen consorts alike. Or on several occasions it was left stored away when there wasn’t a ruling queen. It was always repaired and improved before it was passed on however, causing the garment to have an eclectic assortment of styles visible throughout. Isa loved it and despite it being a symbol of the end of her reign, she couldn’t wait to add her own flare. 

She emerged a few minutes later, her viceroy waiting in his own ceremonial uniform.

“Maybe we make the Yutan wait a little longer? A show of authority?”

Isa frowned at him. “Don’t be rude Jaime. I don’t want our first visitors ever to start with a negative impression of us. Let’s go.” Isa left the Hub and took the halls toward the bays. The click of boots falling in line behind her was comforting. Now that she was on her way a nervous flutter began in her stomach. She willed herself to remain calm. She was the Queen of the Norton She would act like it and make sure these visitors knew it too.

At the bay Isa nodded to her general who opened a panel to the right of the door, entering a code that would signal to the Yutan that they were clear to board. 

Moments later the door swooshed open and a small line of guards not unlike her own filtered out. Behind them came who must of been the general they spoke to, his uniform more ornate than the rest.

“Your Highness. I am general Karvin. It is my honor to present the ruler of the Yutan, King Harper.” Behind him stood a woman around his height and hair cut short, a bob that stopped just below her ears and framed her face just right. Her uniform was relatively basic given she was the ruler of a ship herself. Had she not been introduced to Isa as a King, she would not have known this person was a fellow ruler.

“Your Majesty.” Isa gave a shallow bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you and your entourage care to join us for a meal as we discuss your visit?” Isa noted the glance that passed between her visitors, filing it away to discuss later. King Harper approached her, maintaining a respectful distance before bowing deeply at the waist.

“It would be an honor. We have a lot to talk about.” She stepped beside Isa, offering her elbow. Isa placed her hand in the crook of the King’s arm, signaling to her guards to follow at a distance, noting King Harper did the same.

“I admit your visit is quite a shock. By now I expect my whole ship must be talking about it.”

Harper laughed, the sound causing an all together different kind of flutter in Isa’s stomach. “I imagine so,” she said. “From what I understand your people have remained completely separate from the rest of the Fleet right?”

“From what I understand, every ship in the Fleet became an independent nation.”

“Oh we have, don’t get me wrong. Your ship, however, is the only one that hasn’t had to communicate with any others.” King Harper tried to mask a tone of sadness, but Isa picked up on it regardless.

They arrived at the mess hall, noting the few individuals dotted around the tables for an early dinner. She steered them to her private dining room, blushing as King Harper held the door open for her and pulled out her chair. They settled in, the guards spreading out around the room to watch as plates of food were brought in.

“Not to rush things along, but I would like to know the reason for your sudden visit,” Isa said before digging into a plate piled with perfectly seasoned vegetables. King Harper stared down at her plate as if in awe, slowly piercing the steaming greens before bringing them to her lips. Isa watched, mesmerized at how delicately the King chewed as if she was savoring every bite. Almost as if…

“King Harper, does your ship not have vegetables?”

The King sighed deeply, placing her fork down before twisting her fingers together in her lap. Isa waited patiently, already dreading the answer.

“We… we are running out of food in general your highness.” Harper glanced up from under her lashes, her eyes shined with unshed tears. “My ship has been on a slow decline for many years, even before I became the ruler.” 

“Oh your majesty.”

“Please, call me Harper. We are on your ship.” Isa’s heart was breaking under the weight of her confession. She turned and signaled to her general.

“Please make sure King Harper’s guards are fed. Take them to the kitchens and let them have their fill. We will be fine alone.”

“But your majesty I don’t think…”

“I said we are fine Karvin. You’re dismissed.” Isa placed a reassuring hand on his arm before turning back to her guest. She waited until the guards filed out before continuing.

“Continue King Harper,” she encouraged, choosing to ignore the look she received at using her guests title again. 

“The previous rulers of my ship did not make the best decisions and because of that the consequences have trickled down. Our population has always been much lower than the rest of the ships in the Fleet, but even that is no longer helping us. Our food supply has run dangerously low. We need to make some extreme changes.”

“We will help however we can your Majesty. I have several experts that would be happy to lend a hand and teach your people how we do things.” Isa abruptly stopped her train of thought as she looked at the expression on the kings face.

“I actually had a different proposal,” she said. Harper placed her hand hesitantly over Isa’s. It was a presumptuous move, but one Isa did not want to correct. “I think we should combine our ships. My advisors have devised a plan that would seamlessly fuse our ships, ultimately doubling the space of your ship. We already have significantly fewer citizens. No one would suffer.” She glanced away, causing Isa to lean forward squinting at her. 

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“We would need to be married to properly combine our ships. Politically I mean.” King Harper released her hand as Isa jolted back.

“You want my throne?”

“No! Absolutely not your Highness.” She sighed, finally loosing her composer and running a hand through her hair. Isa found the gesture oddly charming and couldn’t help but smile at how disheveled the king looked. “Look,” she finally said. “I want what is best for my people and that is you. Your ship is the only one that hasn’t needed help from the Fleet in all our history. You can clearly take care of your people and we need that.” Harper slide from her chair, kneeling before Isa and taking her hand. The act was so stunning she let the King stroke her hand softly as she continued. “I propose a marriage in which I am not a ruler but your King Consort. You would remain the sole ruler of our combined ships. Everything we have will be yours. I will simply support you in taking care of our people.”

Isa stared into the Kings eyes, letting the information sink in. To double her the space of her ship with only a fraction of the population increasing sounded too good to be true. She knew she should say yes for those reasons alone. She had to look away however at the selfish thoughts that began to invade her mind as well. 

There had been plenty of offers for her hand over the years. Many citizens flitting with her and attempting to shower her with affection. She’d turned them all down, never quite feeling right committing her life to another. Kneeling before her however was a beautiful woman who clearly just wanted what was best for her people. If Isa were being honest with herself she’d already enjoyed the short amount of time they spent together, as well as the butterflies that danced under her skin every time she looked at the King. Maybe committing herself to this woman would not be such a bad idea.

Isa had to press down the guilt that was building up however at not telling the King about the repairs her ship needed, the effort and finances they seemed to lack for these seemingly inconsequential things. Perhaps this union could fix as much for them as the people of the Yutan.

“Okay Harper, let’s work this out.”

[riversofmars]

The second day of Liv's assignment is shaping up to be no less difficult than the first as she accompanies Helen on the campaign trail. (Chapter rating: General)

Chapter 2

Liv thanked her lucky stars that the Starbucks in St. Pancras was 24h. She wasn’t sure where else she would have gotten a coffee from before 5am. She downed the dregs of it as she walked the final stretch up to Dr. Sinclair’s home.

“Morning, Ma’am,” the night duty officer greeted her as she walked up to the front gate, beyond which the terrace townhouse rose tall and imposing.

“Anything unusual?” Liv asked, looking up at the building. It was three stories and there was light on on the first floor behind a set of heavy curtains. The bedroom, she ventured.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, quiet night,” he reported pleasantly.

“Good…” She nodded, checking the time on her wristwatch. It was 5.28am. “Is she up?” She knew he couldn’t really answer that, but hoped for some indication one way or another.

“Light’s been on a while,” he answered, and that would have to be enough. They had agreed this time, the protection officer didn’t want to be accused of tardiness. As much as she knew she didn’t have anything to prove, the previous day she had taken their exchange about the time as a challenge from the politician. They were still negotiating boundaries, and this was not something with which she would be able to catch her out.

“I’ll try my luck,” she decided, and the uniformed officer tipped his hat at her, returning to his impassive position of guarding the entrance of the property as she walked past and up to the door. Checking the time again, she rang the doorbell at 5.30am sharp.

There was no reaction, not for a long time. Liv chewed the inside of her cheek, mulling over her options. Since the light was on, the MP was clearly awake. Perhaps she hadn’t heard the bell because she was upstairs - an unlikely scenario since she imagined the doorbell would be audible anywhere in the house; perhaps she simply wasn’t ready yet? Or maybe she was ignoring her, making her wait on purpose? She scolded herself for assuming the worst. She hardly knew the woman she was charged with protecting, but their first day together hadn’t exactly been plain sailing. Her finger hovered over the doorbell, but before she could make up her mind and press it again, the door was pulled open.

“You do realise the time, don’t you?” Dr. Sinclair snapped, and Liv’s heart sank. This didn’t bode well for day two, and yet, she tried for a smile of greeting.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” she gave back politely, but the politician didn’t stick around to listen. She turned on her heel and walked back into the dark corridor, leaving the door open in an obvious invitation to follow. “We agreed 5.30am?” the protection officer called after her, and stepped inside. Fighting a wave of annoyance, she closed the door behind herself and flicked the light on so she could see where she was going.

“Yes but I didn’t expect you to-” The MP’s voice sounded from inside the house and Liv followed, scanning her surroundings as she did so. There wasn’t much to the hallway, it was plain and practical with a long row of coats hung up by the door, and a cupboard of shoes further along - much like any normal home, she remarked as she walked down the hall. It opened into a wide, open-plan living space with a dining and seating area to the right and a kitchen to the left. She found Dr. Sinclair at the kitchen island, holding on to steady herself as she struggled into a pair of high heels. Her tailored dress was only done up to her shoulder-blades and several strands of her hair hung loose around her neck. Sometimes the easiest answer was the right one: she was not ready.

“Would you rather I waited outside?” the protection officer asked respectfully, fixing her eyes to the floor as she didn’t want her to feel self-conscious.

“Oh well, you’re here now,” she huffed, and with much difficulty zipped up her dress. It was clearly an awkward angle but Liv didn’t think it a good idea to offer assistance. That was certainly not in her remit.

“Shall I call the car for 6.15am?” she offered, trying to be accommodating. It would give her extra time without having to ask for it.

“Sure…” the MP answered, and her movements around the kitchen slowed noticeably. Instead of continuing to fumble with her hair, she made for the coffee machine. “That’ll give me a chance to get a couple of hours of work in before we set off to Warwick,” she mused as she pushed a coffee pod into the machine. Liv figured she was the sort of person that liked every moment of their day planned out, making to do lists as she went and utilising every minute.

“And then Milton Keynes - Leicester - Coventry?” The protection officer couldn’t imagine the schedule had changed between last night and this morning but she had to be sure. She watched her actions carefully, but didn’t venture any further into the kitchen aware of the fact she still had her shoes on. It was hardly the time to take them off and get comfortable, so she clasped her hands behind her back and waited.

“Yes,” the politician answered, and brushed a strand of hair from her face as she waited for the coffee to pour. “God, I hope they haven’t messed up that speech…” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked tense.

“What? You don’t write your own speeches?” The quip had crossed Liv’s lips before she could think better of it. She’d been trying to think of something to say to put her at ease - protecting someone who was tense and jumpy was much harder than someone who was relaxed - but the moment Dr. Sinclair’s head whipped around, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. “Sorry, that was meant to be a joke. Didn’t land.” She cast her eyes down apologetically under her angry glare.

“I would like to write my own speeches, and I do when I have the time but I can’t write every single one of them - do you have any concept of how many of them I’ll have to give in the next month?” she snapped, and all the brunette could do to rectify the situation was apologise again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

To her great surprise, the MP softened considerably.

“No, I’m sorry… it’s early and I haven’t slept much…” she muttered, running her hands through her hair. Upon closer observation, she looked rather tired.

“We could have started later,” Liv offered. “We still can. I can call the car for seven-” The other woman interrupted her with a sigh.

“No… it’s fine, I’m up now… just need to do my hair…” she mumbled, then looked over to her. “Only have myself to blame… I was being facetious when I said that last night…” she admitted and pulled her mug out of the coffee maker. “I’m sorry,” she apologised to the protection officer’s even greater surprise. “Can we start again?”

“It’s fine,” she nodded quickly. “And yes, I’d like that.” It really hadn’t been the best start, and she was glad the politician had realised as much as well. Hopefully their working relationship could improve from there. It would make things easier in the long run.

“Help yourself to coffee,” Dr. Sinclair gestured at the machine as she crossed the kitchen. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Thank you,” Liv gave back, watching her climb the stairs. Even after she had disappeared, she needed a moment to shake herself out of her stunned state. That had been a much better start to the morning than she had anticipated. While she wasn’t as bold as to follow her invitation, she did pull her phone from her pocket to request their car.

---

The drive to the Palace of Westminster passed in silence. Liv noted that the politician had made the effort of letting her open the house and car doors for her without interfering and took it as a good sign. Dr. Sinclair bit back a yawn as she scrolled through her phone, and the protection officer watched the sun come up over the river as they drove up through South Bank to the seat of government. It was surprisingly peaceful.

Things continued in a similar manner as they arrived at the MPs office - they were the first ones there. Whilst there had been a few people walking the halls of Westminster, the early morning was clearly not everyone’s preferred time for starting work.

“I like it like this,” Dr. Sinclair stated, and Liv got the impression that she had noticed the curiosity with which she had looked around. She would have to work on her poker face, the politician was more observant than she’d anticipated.

“Rather more peaceful than yesterday,” she commented as she took the lead past the desks the staffers usually occupied.

“Won’t be like this for long, a lot of early risers in our line of work, particularly now,” the blonde continued, and didn’t interfere with the protection officer flicking on the light and conducting a quick sweep of her office. Dropping her briefcase on the desk, she observed her doing so and added: “Now, you really don’t have to stand looking over my shoulder now. There is no-one here.”

“Do you not think this paperwork can wait when you have a full day of campaigning ahead of you?” Liv asked and scolded herself for the insolent way in which she had posed the question, but it was something she was wondering about. There hardly seemed to be much point when they would have to be on the road to Warwick by 8am at the latest.

“I didn’t get done with these yesterday.” Fortunately, the politician didn’t seem to take offence as she discarded her blazer and hung it on the back of the chair. “I don’t like leaving constituents' letters if I can help it.” She gestured at a considerable pile of yet unopened mail. Liv wondered just how many of those were genuine concerns being raised, and how many simply contained complaints and abuse. She put nothing past the British population.

“I see,” she nodded, as she couldn’t fault her ambition.

“We shouldn’t leave here any later than 7.45am though,” Dr. Sinclair hummed, checking the time on her wrist watch. “And head to party headquarters so we can set off to Warwick in good time.”

A frown drew to the protection officer’s brow as she slowly took up her familiar position by the window.

“Excuse me for saying so, Ma’am, but that sounds rather pointless,” she pointed out. “Why not set off from here so you can maximise your time?” She deemed it a fair question and the MP actually chuckled as she sliced open her first letter.

“Can’t very well have the ‘battle bus’ park up outside Westminster, hardly a good look,” she commented, grimacing at the term describing the monstrosity that had become a fixture in British elections of late.

“Oh no, you’re not going in one of those,” Liv huffed, shaking her head, and the blonde promptly whipped around.

“Excuse me?” she challenged, the good-natured chuckle a thing of the past. The blonde squared her jaw, and Liv sensed that she had spoken too soon where their improved rapport was concerned, and did her best to sound reasonable and firm as she explained.

“That’s like putting a bull’s eye on your back,” she stated. “Assuming that there is someone out there who is planning to make an attempt on your life, you couldn’t be more forthcoming in announcing your whereabouts. I can’t allow that.” She held her piercing gaze steadily.

“This whole thing might appear like a circus to you, but it is the best way of engaging with the journalists and getting favourable coverage so-” Dr. Sinclair began to argue but the protection officer brought a swift end to it.

“My priority is keeping you safe,” she announced firmly. “I’m afraid I have to put my foot down about this… Ma’am.” She added the honorific as an afterthought, but hoped it would go some way towards appeasing her.

“Is that so,” the MP ground out, a flush of anger drawing to her pale cheeks, and Liv did her best to remain calm and reasonable.

“Please don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

“Is it hard?” the politician shot back pointedly, and the protection officer knew there was no right answer to this so she remained silent, fixing her eyes forward. She didn’t want to undo the tender progress they had made first thing in the morning but yes: this job was shaping up to be extremely difficult. “How would you rather we travel?” Dr. Sinclair questioned once it became clear she wasn’t getting an answer.

“Blacked out, armoured cars, as you get around the city,” the brunette answered dutifully but without looking at her. Standing to attention while being shouted at by a superior had been drilled into her in the RAF. The MP's anger was much more subtle than that but no less effective. “Preferably several identical ones to throw off an attacker.” There was a moment of silence that turned on a knife's edge: a tense stand-off.

“Guess I’ll let my PA know plans have changed,” the MP huffed at last and pulled her phone from her briefcase.

“Thank you, Ma’am..” Liv minded her manners and she made up for her shoulders relaxing in relief by standing up a little straighter. She tried her best to fight the sinking feeling that despite her best efforts, the day would turn out to be just like the previous one.

---

They got in the car by 8.00am. The staff had been less than enthusiastic, but Dr. Sinclair had brokered no argument on the matter which Liv was grateful for. It was something. The PA joined them in the car, sitting unobtrusively next to her employer, pouring over some paperwork or other. Several staffers followed in another car, and as they would be on the road for roughly two hours, it gave the MP time to work on the speech that she was set to give. This would likely equate to a long, boring journey for the protection officer, so she settled in for the drive, sitting across from the MP again. She undid her jacket and was greeted by a pointed: “Do you have to wear that?”

Surprised, she looked up to find Dr. Sinclair shooting an apprehensive glance at her gun, much as she had the night before.

“I do, yes,” Liv answered slowly. “For your and everyone else’s safety.” The PA glanced over, but quickly buried herself in her papers when the protection officer shot her a chastising glare to keep out of it.

“Right,” the politician huffed but seemed far from satisfied with the answer.

“I am a licensed firearms officer,” the brunette continued calmly, suddenly feeling a need to justify herself. “I did all the training, all the background checks… some of which you insist upon, if I remember correctly…” Pointing out as much was unnecessary, Dr. Sinclair was surely more than aware of the policies she herself had introduced and passed, but she couldn’t help it.

“Yes, well, they’re necessary!” the MP shot back. She’d gotten her back up all right, and for no good reason either. Liv happened to be on the side of tighter gun control. “You can’t just have everyone who decides to-”

“I’m not arguing with you, makes perfect sense,” she answered appeasingly, taking the wind out of her sails. Dr. Sinclair blinked, it was clearly not the response she had expected.

“Fine then,” she muttered and returned to her work. Liv refrained from a small smirk of triumph, though she felt like it. It wouldn’t be conducive to the situation, but she felt like she had scored a point.

Silence settled in the car, occasionally interrupted by the increasingly aggressive scraping of biro on paper and annoyed muttering as the MP made changes to the speech. The protection officer remarked on how tense she looked. It seemed as though she really would rather have written that speech herself…

---

By the time it got to delivering said speech, Liv wasn’t sure how much of the original work remained, but it certainly seemed to hit the spot. The protection officer stood to the side of the stage in the large auditorium, just out of sight of the students, and watched Dr. Sinclair give an empowering, and surprisingly touching speech.

The brunette forced her eyes away from the MP to observe the crowd, scan the room for any sort of unusual behaviour or suspicious activities, but found nothing like it. Instead, she looked into the inspired faces of the young. Helen Sinclair certainly had a way with words and the delivery of them. Liv tried her best to push the unbidden thoughts from her mind and focus on her job instead.

The speech concluded to a standing ovation, and the staffers congratulated each other on a brilliant start to proceedings. The protection officer, however, felt her heart drop as the politician didn’t return to their ranks as agreed. Instead she made her way to the front of the stage and descended the steps to ground-level where the audience was keen to greet her and shake hands.

“Fuck’s sake-” Liv muttered under her breath and quickly crossed the stage herself, following quickly. The bright spot-lights beat down on her, adding to the discomfort and worry that shot through her body. It was only the second day of her assignment, if something happened now-

“Ma’am, what are you doing?” the brunette hissed as she pushed close to Dr. Sinclair, keeping her voice low enough that hopefully, none of the adoring audience members would hear.

“Shaking hands, engaging with the voters, what does it look like?” the MP muttered in return, keeping a gracious smile fixed to her face as she did so.

“This is not what we agreed,” the protection officer insisted, keeping her expression as neutral as she could manage. She knew how important it was that they were not seen to be having an argument.

“This is what’s happening!” Dr. Sinclair gave back just as quietly, her demeanour never faulting in between words of thanks.

“Ma’am-” Liv brought her hand to her back, resting against her shoulder blades as she scanned the crowd, hyper-aware of every movement, every word.

“Your job is to protect me, then do that,” the MP pressed through a smile. “I will not allow my every move to be dictated by you!” And that was clearly the last word on the matter as she commented on the apprehensive looks some of the students were shooting at the protection officer. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.” She grasped another hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Thank you.”

Liv did her best to remain calm, putting her faith in her instincts and training, and sent a silent prayer to unnamed forces that this wouldn’t end badly for either one of them as she shielded her body to the best of her abilities.

—

“That was a roaring success,” the chief speech writer exclaimed as they headed back to the car in the staff car park of the university.

“That was irresponsible,” Liv interjected, following close behind Dr. Sinclair as she had been for the past half hour. Hopefully now she could voice her misgivings over how things had gone. It needed addressing. The politician, however, was paying her no mind, as her PA carried on enthusiastically while tapping on her tablet.

“You poll really well with the younger population, if they turn out on election day, they could really carry the vote for you.”

“We should make more of an effort with voter turnout, the young, women, minorities, that’s where we poll strongest,” another staffer added. They were all flying high on the success of the event while Liv was on edge and tense, loathing the feeling of being ignored. She knew she was not part of the MPs team as such, but she hadn’t expected to be completely shut out.

“Yes, let’s do that,” Dr. Sinclair smiled, looking a lot less tense than she had done on the way to the event.

“Pride event maybe?” the speech writer suggested as they reached the car, and Liv decided that that was where she would put an end to things.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but can you at least acknowledge I said something?” she interrupted, a flash of anger colouring her words. “You put yourself in grave danger!”

The group fell silent, staffers exchanging awkward glances and the candidate herself focused on her bodyguard.

“By shaking hands with university students? Please,” she huffed, shaking her head as though she thought the whole thing ridiculous. It only made Liv more angry.

“I’m being serious!” she snapped, and the politician fixed her with a stony gaze.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant, but not everything can be planned out and controlled to the last detail,” she told her coldly, and it seemed her staff realised that that was the moment to quickly make for the cars. Even the PA feigned ignorance as she pulled her phone out and turned to pretend to deal with something very important.

“You certainly can’t,” Liv bit back, giving into her annoyance. It used to get her in trouble in the military. She had a temper. Most days she was more than able to control it, she had learned to ever since she’d had to deal with politicians regularly that were infuriating as a rule, but the woman in front of her took the biscuit.

“That’s right,” Dr. Sinclair responded venomously. “You’d do well to remember that!”

“You’re still angry about the bus…” the protection officer realised with a disbelieving huff and the MP caught her PA looking up curiously.

“Can you give us a minute?!” she snapped.

“We really must be on our way to Milton Keynes,” the young woman stuttered, checking the time. “Otherwise-”

“Then go in another car!” the politician growled, and she jumped to action, joining the colleagues in the less crowded of the other two cars.

Liv ground her teeth together angrily but opened the door for the blonde regardless, sending one last appraising glance across their surroundings, making sure that they weren’t being watched. Once satisfied she got into the car as well.

“As I have said before, Ma’am, I’m not here to make your life difficult-” She restarted the conversation as she did up her seat belt, and Dr. Sinclair nearly jumped down her throat.

“Well, that’s what you’re doing!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled at her.

“I’m sorry, but you must realise that everything I do is for your benefit,” the protection officer insisted hotly. “Do you not realise the danger you’re in?”

“Quite frankly, I think it’s ridiculous,” the politician ground out, and that was crossing the line. How could she be so callous where her own life was concerned? Not to mention the hypocrisy of it all.

“Do you have any idea of the effort and resources that are being attributed to this? What all of this costs?” Liv spat. “That’s taxpayer money that pays for me to shadow your every move, that pays for the intelligence officers that are working tirelessly to find out who means you harm. As someone who pretends to be big on not wasting the British public’s money, you could at least do them the courtesy of taking this seriously!”

Stunned silence fell, even the driver appeared to be holding his breath. The protection officer could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears, she hadn’t meant to get as worked up as that, but she could only hope she had made her point clear. She was trained to interpret body language, note even the slightest changes, so it didn’t take much to spot the look of genuine hurt that crossed the other woman’s face. Her shoulders slumped noticeably as she hugged her arms around herself a little tighter.

“Well, that’s me told, isn’t it…” she mumbled, and cast her eyes out of the window where houses shot past as they made for the motorway.

Liv lowered her head and eyes as well as she grasped the edge of her seat. That could have gone better. Her attack had been personal, based on the other woman’s politics and opinions, and therefore utterly unprofessional. That was taking things too far.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line…” she apologised, hoping she hadn’t just ruined everything. There was every chance she would have a call from Protection Command by the end of the day taking her off the assignment awaiting disciplinary action if the politician made enough of a fuss.

“I am taking this seriously…” Dr. Sinclair said at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Her sober observation was a hell of a lot better than stopping the car and throwing her out, but Liv didn’t quite dare to hope just yet.

“Are you?” she asked cautiously and looked up to her. The MP wasn’t looking at her, she kept her eyes firmly fixed to the window, but her tense posture and the way worry lines split her otherwise picture-perfect face gave Liv pause. She had clearly gotten to her.

“Of course I am,” she mumbled, clearing her throat as her voice came out thick and emotional. “I just… I try not to think about it, that’s what they tell you early on. Don’t worry about every death threat you get, it’s part of the job, it-” She took a deep breath, and struggled visibly to keep a hold of herself. The brunette started feeling regret over her words, not just on a professional level but on a personal one too. The other woman had done nothing to her and she hadn’t stopped to consider her position in all this.

“This is different,” Liv continued slowly, as she didn’t want to lose the ground she had gained but also had no desire to hurt her further.

“I know that…” Dr. Sinclair admitted softly. “I’m just trying not to let it get to me.” And for the first time the protection officer saw something akin to fear in her eyes as she looked back to her. She did understand the seriousness of the situation, even if she didn’t want to admit it. It was reassuring but also made Liv feel for her in a way she hadn’t before. She rarely stopped to consider how requiring her protection affected those she was assigned to.

“And that’s understandable but please… If you want to talk to people, fine, we can do that but… don’t spring it on me like that, okay?” she requested, hoping to strike some sort of a compromise. She was beginning to get a sense of what it meant to the other woman to be able to carry on as she had been. “Give me heads up, let me prepare… Back there, the only thing between you and a bullet was me…” She gave her a half-smile. She really didn’t fancy putting herself in the way of a bullet but that would also have been part of the job…

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sinclair said, with a small smile of her own as she seemed to be regaining her composure.

“We did say this morning we’d try again…” Liv pointed out, and the blonde chuckled.

“Yes…” she acknowledged with a sigh. “Didn’t that go well…”

“Another do-over?” the protection officer suggested. They seemed to be taking one step forward and two back at every turn, but she wasn’t someone who gave up easily. Stubbornness was one of her better traits.

“I’m sure you could have easier jobs than this…” Dr. Sinclair observed.

“Yeah but…” Liv tried for another smile. “I’m also the best you could have, so…”

“Is that so?” the blonde scoffed and the atmosphere lightened in a flash.

“Oh yeah,” the protection officer grinned.

“Maybe we can agree that we will likely bump heads again, but we will both try?” the MP decided after a moment of contemplative silence.

“I can work with that,” Liv agreed easily and relaxed as she leaned back. Surely this had to count as progress.

“Now… have you eaten, Sergeant?” Dr. Sinclair asked, reaching down to a cool bag that stood on the ground between their feet.

“No, Ma’am,” the brunette answered and watched as she pulled two sets of sandwiches from the bag. M&S meal-deal - no expenses had been spared.

“Well, you ought to,” the MP said matter-of-factly. “Egg and cress?”

Liv chuckled and nodded, she had no real preference where sandwiches were concerned, but she remarked on how rarely she had been offered provisions in her line of work. People often forgot she was there.

“What’s funny?” the politician frowned, and the protection officer decided it was probably better to deflect than lament how isolating her work could be.

“Just remembered something one of my instructors used to say,” she said as she pulled the packet open.

“And what was that?” the other woman asked, surprising her with what seemed like genuine interest.

“Well… he compared personal protection to looking after an infant. You sleep when they sleep, you eat when they eat-” It was certainly an apt comparison.

“Do you have children, Sergeant?” the MP questioned, launching into an attempt at small-talk. Much like the act of being offered food, this was also something Liv didn’t often experience. While the sentiment behind it was to be commended, it also made her a little uncomfortable.

“No, Ma’am,” she gave back plainly.

“Never wanted them or-” she stalled for a moment, as if she’d only just realised what she’d said. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if-”

“Oh not at all, it’s just… I’m unattached.” She forced herself into a mild smile, as if the matter was of no importance. It was no time to fall into melancholy musings about how empty and lonely her life felt, particularly when she was on a busy job like this and had no hope of a social life anyway - not to mention the opportunity of meeting someone. Dr. Sinclair seemed eager to apologise again for putting her in an awkward spot, but she didn’t have opportunity to as Liv found herself continuing: “Who knows, if my partner wanted them … but I don’t see myself doing the carrying. The job isn’t exactly well suited.” In hindsight, she wasn’t exactly sure why she had brought her sexuality into it. It was of no consequence and surely none of the other woman’s business and yet… Liv found she wouldn’t mind her knowing, better to have these things out in the open. If she was surprised she didn’t let on - if anything her reaction was enthusiastic.

“Well, that’s certainly an advantage of having those options open to you.”

---

The rest of the day’s campaign stops turned out to be rather uneventful. Dr. Sinclair appeared to have taken her request seriously. They pre-agreed how to go about every event and Liv kept close to her side for it all, even endured more hand-shaking as a courtesy. The PA was allowed back in the car in Milton Keynes, and they continued in a professional, focused manner.

By the end of the day, Liv was thoroughly exhausted, but felt better than she had the previous day. Dr. Sinclair appeared tired as well. Her make-up was slightly smudged from where she had rubbed her eyes, and she tried to suppress a yawn as they pulled into the road she lived on.

“Have you got far to go?” the politician asked, resting her head against the window.

“A little way-” Liv answered, doing her best to muster her last bit of energy for getting her into the house safe and sound.

“How are you getting there?” the blonde continued, her brow knitting into a frown, and the protection officer noted yet again that she was rather observant. She appeared to have realised her state of exhaustion.

“Probably just going to take a taxi…” she admitted with a tired half-smile as the car came to a halt. There was no way she would put herself through the exercise of the tube and bus now.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dr. Sinclair scoffed and before Liv could object, she got to her feet and leaned over the seat to the driver. “Kindly wait for Sergeant Chenka and take her home,” she requested and received a curt nod of acknowledgement.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“That’s really not necessary,” the protection officer started to argue, but to no avail.

“I disagree.” The MP shot an expectant glance towards the door, and Liv got up to open it for her, going through the practiced routine of looking up and down the road before allowing her to get out.

“I can make my own way home,” she insisted after a brief greeting towards the night duty officer.

“I know you can but I’d rather you didn’t have to. I put you through enough as it is,” Dr. Sinclair countered, and they walked up the stairs to her front door.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Liv hoped the twilight would serve to cover the blush that came to her cheeks. As much as she knew it was a gesture of apology at best, and at worst an attempt to ingratiate herself with her, she couldn’t deny that she appreciated it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone bar her sister had shown a care for her getting home safely. She waited patiently as the politician unlocked the door to assure herself of the same for her. “Goodnight, Ma’am.”

“Good night, Sergeant,” the MP replied but hung on for a moment. “6.30am should be fine tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 2: Breakfast

Read on AO3

Six weeks. Carlos has six weeks to prove himself. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?

It can’t be. He needs this job. When Iris had called saying there was an opening on her boat, well, he’d never jumped on anything so fast in his entire life. At least he’d have one friend onboard. Anything had to be better than the shit he’d been putting up with on his previous boat. 

He was late. He hated being late. But there was nothing to be done, his flight had been delayed due to weather, which meant he was going to board the Firebug barely an hour before a group of guests came aboard. Perfect.

Knowing this he’d practically run down the dock, dragging his suitcase behind him, cursing himself for overpacking all those months ago when he’d left home.

The Firebug was easy to spot, a smaller vessel than some of the others, but still an impressive figure with her gleaming white sides against the blue of the ocean in the harbor. Her name was emblazoned in red on the stern, a small curl of flame following it.

Carlos dragged his luggage onboard and quickly found his way up to the bridge with help from a man named Dave who introduced himself as the boat’s engineer.

“Welcome aboard chef,” the captain said as he’d entered the bridge, wiping sweat from his brow and hoping he didn’t look as messy as he felt.

“Captain Vega, nice to meet you,” he’d replied, shaking her hand. He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair that was probably doing crazy things in the humid Bahamian air, he should have taken some time to gel it down at the airport, but he’d been hustling to get here, anxious to figure out his galley and menus.

“It’s captain in front of the guests,” she said. “But below decks you can call me Tommy.”

Oh god. He was so bad at that kind of thing. Years of being taught to speak respectfully to his elders and people in authority roles by his mother was part of his DNA now. He just smiled and nodded

“Iris really sang your praises,” Tommy told him.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. “She did?”

Tommy quirked a smile. “Well, as much as Iris sings anybody’s praises. She’s not exactly the type to gush, is she?”

“No, she’s not,” Carlos said with a soft laugh. 

“But she is very honest,” Tommy said. “So I trust her judgement about you. I hope you’ll prove her right?”

“Yes Captain…Tommy,” he said lamely, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks at already forgetting how to address her. “I hope you’ll find that both my food and my service are up to the standards of the FireBug.”

“I’m sure they will be. We agreed to a six week trial period, but I hope that you’ll be with us for much longer than that,” she said. “Did Iris mention anything about our last chef?”

“She said there was…a difference of opinion on standards for the boat,” Carlos said delicately.

In fact Iris had told him in pretty explicit detail about Pearce’s rants and raves and his unceremonious departure. “I can assure you that my attitude won’t be a problem,” Carlos said..

“I can sense that already,” Tommy said warmly. “Now, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you’d like to get unpacked and then started on food prep. The guests are schedule to arrive in about an hour, but if you don’t think you’ll be ready by then I can make alternate arrangements for this evening.”

Carlos shook his head. “No ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”

And he had. Dinner had been amazing, the guests and crew alike had said so, and he’d been proud of the work he’d done. Nancy is so easy to work with and the rest of the crew stepped in to help with everything from finding pots and pans to running plates up and down from the aft deck where the guests were eating. Even after only ten hours on this boat he feels more comfortable and at home than he has in a long time.

At this point he’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours and between the travel and the mad dash to get dinner ready, he should have fallen into his bunk and gone instantly to sleep.

But instead he’s lying awake, staring at the ceiling, and thinking about the man sleeping only inches below him. Which is stupid. Because you shouldn’t be obsessed with someone mere hours after meeting them. And yet…he’d taken one look into those green eyes and immediately been captivated.

Which is a big problem because he’s generally against boatmances. And he’s even more opposed to having a boatmance with his roommate. He’s been on boats long enough to know that they’re a recipe for a messy disaster. Things can get ugly very fast, crew members take sides, it doesn’t bring anything good, and he needs this job. He can’t afford to mess it up. 

He wonders what T.K. stands for…

Carlos sighs and rolls over for the sixth or seventh time. He has so much to do in the next few days, if he’s going to be awake he should at least be thinking about menus for the guests and how he’s going to work around the primary’s gluten intolerance.

Instead he smiles as he remembers the look on T.K.’s face when they’d first met in the galley and then again just a little while ago as he’d readied for bed. T.K. had been impressed. And Carlos didn’t mind that one bit.

At some point he must finally drift off because the next thing he knows his alarm is startling him awake again. He turns it off quickly so it doesn’t wake up T.K., then carefully slips out of his bunk and into the bathroom to ready for the day.

He’s been in the galley for about fifteen minutes when Iris rolls in, a sweater over her Firebug uniform to ward off the dampness of the early morning. “Coffee’s fresh,” Carlos says as he slides a tray into the oven.

“Bless you,” she says, then points to the blueberry muffins cooling on the counter. “Those up for grabs?”

He grabs one and sets it on a plate. “I put extra blueberries in this one for you.”

“And that is why you’re my favorite chef,” she says, taking a huge bite. She chews for a second giving him a penetrating stare that sees right through him. It’s unnerving. “How’s your new roommate?”

“T.K.?” Carlos tries for nonchalant even though he knows exactly what Iris is getting at. She’s known him way too long not to see what’s probably all over his face. “He’s nice. Doesn’t snore.”

“And he’s cute,” she says around another bite of muffin. 

“Sure,” Carlos says.

She rolls her eyes. “He’s your type.”

“You don’t know my type.”

“We had a lot of posters of N*Sync hanging around,” she says pointedly. “I know exactly your type. T.K. is your type. You should ask him out. Or at least have sex with him and see if he’s any good in bed.”

“Iris!” Carlos yelps her name and then looks around to make sure no guests or other crew are poking their noses into the galley. “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” she asks. “There’s nothing wrong with sex. It’s very healthy. You could use some. You clearly haven’t been laid in a while. You’re very uptight.” She checks her watch and then shoves the rest of the muffin in her mouth. “Gotta go. Breakfast setup awaits.”

She smacks his ass on the way out, leaving him speechless. Even after all these years, sometimes her bluntness still catches him off guard.

He manages to shake it off and run a successful breakfast service. Eggs Benedict as a special, although the primary wants eggs over medium instead and his wife asks for her sauce on the side. He whips up their requests and sends them along with the muffins and other assorted pastries and fruit. 

Nancy appears midway through the service and they have a quick chat about the beach picnic he’s going to prepare for lunch today. She’s so professional, it’s such a relief. Joining up with an already established crew is a crapshoot, and he’s worked with some truly impossible stews in the past. But this boat seems relaxed and happy. 

After he cleans up the guest’s breakfast dishes he heads into the crew mess to clean up the extra pastries and eggs he’d set out for them and finds T.K. sitting at the table, a yellow hoodie pulled up over his head. “Good morning,” Carlos says brightly as grabs dishes and starts loading them into the dishwasher. 

“Morning,” T.K. says.

His eyes look unfocused and he’s sitting very still. Carlos raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Not a morning person,” T.K. grunts.

“I have fresh coffee in the galley,” Carlos offers.

That seems to perk him up a little bit. At least, he gets to his feet and grabs the last few dishes, shuffling after Carlos and accepting the warm mug he hands him. “Thanks,” he says after a long minute.

He looks freaking adorable. Carlos imagines that his hair is probably a wreck of bed head under that hood, and he’s dying to reach over and pull it off to find out if he’s right. Instead he asks, “Did you get any breakfast?”

T.K. squints up at him and Carlos has to bite back a laugh. He’s never seen someone struggle so much with being awake.

“I had…fruit?” T.K. says, like he’s not really even sure what happened as he sat in the crew mess by himself. 

“Do you want some eggs or something?”

“Don’t you have to get started on the beach picnic?”

Carlos checks his watch. “I’ve got a few minutes. You should eat something more than fruit. It’s a long day ahead.”

T.K. blinks a couple times. “I’m not a guest. You don’t have to go out of your way to cook for me.”

Carlos feels a blush rising in his cheeks. “I know. It’s…I like to take care of the crew.”

That’s a true statement. But a second truth is that he has never, ever, on any boat he’s worked on, gone out of his way to make someone on the crew breakfast after service was over. The captain? Yes. That’s just what you do. But a deckie or a stew? They’re welcome to help themselves, but he’s too busy to pull out all the stops for them.

T.K. shrugs. “Okay. Sure, yeah eggs would be great.”

The food and coffee seem to perk T.K. up. By the time Nancy sweeps in twenty minutes later he’s removed the hoodie and is walking Carlos through every track on Harry Styles’ latest album. He’s adorable, eyes sparkling, hands whipping around animatedly as he explains why this specific lyric is so incredible. 

Carlos doesn’t have a particular interest in Harry Styles, but truly T.K. could be talking about wallpaper paste and Carlos would listen eagerly. 

Shit.

“Fabulous, he has a new victim to torture,” Nancy says as she sets down a tray of glasses. “Maybe I’ll be able to make it an entire hour without hearing about the lyrics to Falling.”

“Keep being mean to me and I’ll go back to deck crew,” T.K. says.

“Keep filibustering and one of us is going to send you to Davey Jones’ locker,” she tosses back. “Also can you go make like an entire pitcher of margaritas? The clients are thirsty.”

“Yes,” T.K. says immediately, snapping back into work mode. “Thanks for breakfast Carlos.”

It’s the first time T.K. has said his name and it sets something fluttering in Carlos’ chest. Which is very stupid. It’s his name. He’s heard it every day of his entire life. But somehow hearing it on T.K.’s lips feels different. 

It feels right.

[renee-writer]

Loved Her First Chapter 24

A/N From the opening line to, Faith made a mental note to talk to her later, were all written by the incredible @omgbarbiegurl. Let's all give her some love.❤️

AO3

A hushed silence descended when Faith briskly walked between the split-log benches of the assembled students.

15 pairs of eyes turned toward her, and 15 students rose respectfully.

Michael, Hannah & Phoebe, (5- and 6-year-old daughters of a tenant), sat in the front row.

Kitty, Maggie and Brianna sat in the back benches, while a handful of children of various ages that lived on the property sat in a small cluster in the middle. They looked uncertain, uneasy, and nervous.

Faith came to a halt at the front of the room and turned to face her audience.

Taking them in now, she saw that Michael looked hopeful and expectant.

Ian watched from the doorway. Love and a fierce pride radiated from him in waves that she could feel across the distance that separated them. Jeremiah stood next to him, lounging elegantly against the side of the door. Her Mama and Da were directly behind the two young men, their faces alight with satisfaction.

She would rather not have an audience, but she couldn’t very well force them away.

Instead, she focuses on the children in front of her and felt a glorious sense of exhilaration.

No one looked into the future in the same way that a teacher did, she thought. That was because a teacher looked into the eyes of her students.

“You may be seated,” she said.

The students sat and she took a breath.

“I am Miss Fraser. I will be your new Teacher. I am excited to teach every single one of you, and I hope you are excited to learn. The first thing we are going to do this morning is organize you by age. It’s easier to learn the material if you are in a peer group.”

She winces internally at her wording, but no one seems to notice.

She quickly organizes the clustered nervous children into their proper spots.

2 boys and a girl join Brianna, Maggie and Kitty whom she moves to the back benches. A 4-year-old girl joins the front row with Michael and the others are spread out to matching ages in between.

Once everyone is moved, she smiles.

“There, now this will make learning so much easier. Now, you each have a slate, we are going to start on morning exercises. We will start with the littlest and go up the oldest, after that we will have our Maths, and then recitation.”

“We will break for lunch, and then have our afternoon exercises, clean up and then off to home we go.”

“Miss Fraser?”

A freckled girl stands, Joan is her name. She has been living with Mary and Rabbie McNab since her Mama died.

“Yes Joan?”

“Will we learn etiquette as well?”

“No Joan, we will only be learning figuring and reading.”

Joan nodded and sat down looking a little sad, Faith made a mental note to talk to her later.

“Alright, let’s begin.”

The youngest, the four year old daughter of one of the tenants, named Annabelle, is the first one she calls on. “Now Annabelle, shall we read.”

“Miss Fraser, I dinna ken how ma’am.”

“That is alright darling. You shall. Let’s start with your name.” She takes the slate and writes Annabelle in neat print. “This says what?”

The little girl looks up, her face shining with joy. “Annabelle!”

“Brilliant, just so. Now you know how to read one word. You shall learn much more.”

With each student she calls on, she learns something about them. Some, like her sister and cousins, are way ahead. Some, behind. The majority of lads are where she would expect them to be. The lasses more behind. There isn’t one though that she worries she won’t be able to teach. They are all so eager to learn.

Maths surprise her. Here, her students are far ahead of where children of the same age would be in her time. It is a pleasant surprise. It is only the youngest that she will have to teach the basics. She writes out one through ten on their slates and explains each word before starting them copying the numbers. Math and handwriting all in one. With the older children, she can explore deeper into algebra and calculus.

Lunch is served out of buckets all over the field by the schoolroom. She watches her students with a smile. They will do well. Joan comes up to her after she eats. “Miss Fraser?”

“Yes Joan.” She recalls she wished to talk to her.

“I know maths and reading and writing are important. But ma says a lass needs to ken how to be a lady too.”

Ah, Faith thinks, now she understands. A person immediately comes to mind to teach the lasses those qualities. “Joan, my focus shall be on academics but, I know someone who can teach you and any other lass that wishes to learn how to be a lady. Mistress Murray, my aunt. Would that be alright?”

The little girl frowns. “Miss Fraser, she can be mean, that is what I heard.”

“How about I ask her not to be. She can be very sweet, I promise.”

“Alright. Thank you Miss Fraser.”

“You’re welcome Joan. Now, go off and play. We will be starting classes again soon.”

She does. Now Faith has to talk Auntie Jenny into given lessons herself. She doesn’t think it will be a problem.

[astoldbyaja]

The Blossom surrounded by Fire - Ch. 20 (Warrior AU- HBO MAX)

Young Jun was not bad, not bad at all. The noises he made beneath me as I rode him hard, had my arousal growing. His cock wasn’t thick like Bolo, and didn’t hit those sweet spots inside me, but every sound he made definitely had me throbbing. His fingers pinched my nipples causing bursts of pleasure inside me to grow.

“Oh, fuck the wait was so worth it!” he yells as I grind my hips against him. I smirked, but deep down I was still hurting: hurting from my past, hurting from what Zing did to me, and hurting now that Bolo didn’t want to be beneath me like this and I was taking out all my emotions on Young Jun who didn’t seem to mind. His hips move against mine perfectly and in sync.

“Rub my clit!” I demand. His eyes flex as if he was even more turned on.

“Fuck yes ma’am!” he replies and lets his hand disappear between our bodies and I feel his fingers search greedily for my sensitive spot. He finds it and rubs vigorously, desperately and I cry out against him. The room is filled with delicious cries of bliss and pleasure.

“Aahh I’m gonna cum!” I moan out and he bites his bottom lip hard.

“Fuuuuck yes, cum on my cock baby!” he yells as I move my hips harder and faster against him. “Fuck I’m cumming!” I cum hard, feeling my walls tighten around him and he growls hard as he releases everything inside me, yelling out in utter bliss. My body shakes violently from the pleasure that devours. I pant heavily and fall to the side of the bed staring at the ceiling with foggy eyes.

“You are a fucking goddess!” he pants, exhausted. I grin softly.

“Oh you don’t mean that.” I replied and he nodded wiping his brow of the sweat that accumulated.

“But I do! I have… never slept with a colored girl before and damn your insides felt so good and hot!” he said. I didn’t reply, but I continued to smile. If there was one bit of happiness I could take from this meeting, I was happy he didn’t touch my ears.

“Well, you were patient enough, I decided to reward you.” I teased, and he turned on his side and stared at me intensely.

“Well, if you keep giving me this reward, I can make your stay here in Chinatown is comfortable.” he said. I looked at him curiously.

“What do you mean?” I asked, and he shrugged letting the top of his knuckles gently slide up my hip.

“I mean I advocate for you to join the Hop Wei. My father will accept you as his personal doctor and healer to the tong, and you can share my bed and anything you want you can have.” he said. I stared at him in thought of his words before looking down his chest.

“I don’t think I would be accepted in your tong… let alone respected.” I replied moving to sit up. Plus, there was no way I could be in the same tong as Bolo. It would be just odd.

“They don’t have to accept you, they just need to sit still and shut the fuck up while you stitch them up.” Young Jun said firmly as he sat up with me. “You can stay with Chao if you want, that’ll make you closer to the tong and we’d know where to find you when we need to come get you.”

Just like Mai Ling said. I smiled gently at the tong leader’s son and leaned forward kissing him gently of which he responded immediately. I then slowly moved from the bed and bent over letting him have a full view of my bottom as I pulled my dress back on.

“I will wait to hear back from your father.” I replied buttoning up dress.

“He’ll ask you to join.” he said with confidence. I nodded slowly. And I’ll respectfully refuse so that I could join the Long Zii with a clear conscience and pray they don’t retaliate against me. If that’s a possibility, then it would mean putting Chao in danger with us living together. I would need to make this move silently to move into their territory.

“I guess we will see.” I replied before turning to look at Young Jun. He stared at me with a deep gaze and nodded.

“I hope we can do this again.” he said. I nodded halfheartedly.

“Guess we will see. Good night.” I replied and left the room silently. I met with Chao downstairs, he asked if I was ready to go, and I replied that I was. The carriage ride was quiet, and we both smelled like alcohol and sweat and definitely would need to bathe before we went to bed tonight. I looked at Chao who was looking ahead as if content.

“I’m going to join the Long Zii. And to ensure that there is no retaliation against you or me when I deny Father Jun, I plan to move onto their territory.” I replied. He looked at me as if not surprised. The emotion of sadness danced in his brown eyes. He gave a warm smile and leaned down and took my hand in his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Good.” he said gently. After our much needed baths, we passed out in the bed together, our bodies lazily wrapped around each other. This was the first time I felt I could sleep and let my guard down without fear of Zing and the Fung Hai or anyone else coming for me in the dead of the night.

The next morning, Chao wanted to go with me to Long Zii’s territory, but I talked him out of it. It’s one thing for me to move through territories unbothered due to visiting the sick or wounded, but it would draw too much attention from tongs if we both went.

I stood before Long Zii and Mai Ling in their large dining area or at least that’s what most Americans would call this room with a square pool. This area was beautiful with long pants at the doorway and paintings of lands I couldn’t even begin to describe. A group of elders stood further behind Long Zii.

“So, Amaka. My wife says you have agreed to join my tong my personal doctor.” Long Zii said. Behind him was Mai Ling and Li Yong. I looked at him and nodded giving a gentle bow of my head.

“Yes sir. It would be an honor to join your tong and help you, your family, and your allies when healing is needed.” I replied. The elder nodded slowly.

“Well, your skills will be put to the test as hostilities grow between my tong and the Hop Wei. After this moment we will see if you can truly dedicate your life to the Long Zii. You will be treated no differently here just because you are an African. Mai Ling will see to your integration here. You will be treated as a mild extension of her. Li Yong, my lieutenant, will also be at your aid if he can be spared.” he explained. That was it? No initiation, no brand on my body to show I belonged to someone. I nodded and bowed to the floor.

“Thank you for this opportunity.” I replied. Mai Ling smiled warmly, and her husband merely nodded and looked at his wife with a nod before separating with the elders. I let out a deep breath as she Mai Ling, followed by Li Yong, approached with a smile, curling her fingers together.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer, Amaka. I know it will be a new adjustment, but as long as you are in this territory you are safe.” she said. I gave a gentle smile and nodded.

“Thank you. I have not rejected the Hop Wei yet, and I fear retaliation against myself or Chao due to me choosing your tong.” I replied. She nodded.

“It’s alright, I will send Li Yong and a few others to Chao to collect your belongings. Meanwhile, I can show you around and to your room, then Li Yong will show you the lodge outside the residence.” she said. I glanced at Li Yong who just smiled and nodded before turning to leave the room. My heart was fluttering fast. This was really happening. I was joining a tong. Mai Ling raised her arm and grinned at me.

“Shall we.” she replied. This place was just like the mansion of a plantation. I remembered rooms fairly easily by looking at certain items connected with each room. There were common areas, rooms for eating and drinking, a room where men were training. There were women in pale dresses cleaning the house. I did not miss that. There was a room for strictly bathing.

“This is where you are allowed to bathe. It’s not uncommon for the servants to bathe together, but it goes without saying they may not… want you to bathe with them.” she explained. I nodded understanding.

“I understand.” I replied and she nodded.

“But of course, you will always bathe before them. They eat, sleep, and clean without bothering everyone else.” she explained firmly. I nodded once more, and we continued our tour from the bedroom she shared with her husband to other rooms where it seemed their soldiers slept and ate. I was brought to a large room with a bed and bookshelves. There were also two large oak wardrobes in the back of the room.

“This room is yours to do with as you please. Fill the shelves with any books you have, your clothes you may wear as you please, but I do plan to have some dresses brought in that shows your status. We cannot have you dressed in a fashion that does not suit Long Zii’s personal doctor.” she told. I nodded.

“Alright. Should I assume, I will tend to myself for most of my stay here? I don’t mean I want to be served or anything!” I said quickly. I didn’t want her to think I was asking to be served. Lord, can one imagine tending to a colored in such a way! Mai Ling just raised her hand and smiled.

“You are not a slave, Amaka. You are free to come and go as you please as long as you tell someone your ware abouts. I know you will respect this tong and our house. Although I suspect you will want to spend more time at your lodge which is fine. I think this room will be good for you when we need you close by for me or my husband or if the men need patching up from a scrap. Your lodge already has medical supplies. You keep inventory of what you need, and we will make sure you have it.” she replied. I nodded immediately before smiling at her.

“Thank you, Mai Ling.” I replied. She smiled and nodded.

Normal POV

As usual, Li Yong walked calmly through Chinatown with his hands locked behind his back, his men following obediently behind him. He was secretly happy that the healer, Amaka decided to join his tong.

He didn’t know too many- no he didn’t know any colored people. He knew they stayed on their side of town. He knew their history and felt no need to ever bother them when one or two would cross through their territory just passing through. Li Yong remembered walking through Chinatown behind Long Zii and Mai Ling as they were going on a morning walk. She was growing in power and although he cared about her, he could sense a darkness in her and he wanted to ensure it did not taint him. But with her plan to take over the Long Zii, he knew it was too late for that.

It was busy all around, and she immediately stuck out. He remembered doing a double take when he saw her, crouched beside an old man giving him a bowl of something to drink while she stitched up a cut on his arm. He remembered thinking it was odd for her to help what looked like a stranger. She had warm hazelnut skin and long thick curly hair.

She wore a faded white dress and was smiling warmly at the man as she helped him. She had dimples in her cheeks. Li Yong remembered tilting his head curious of this woman who was definitely sticking out in their small town. He ended up passing many people that day but was also looking back at the woman. He thought she was beautiful, and so he wanted to look at such beauty for as long as he could since he felt they’d never see each other again.

 Even now, Li Yong knew from the look in her eyes she was a survivor, a fighter. She had to be to withstand being experimented on by her former master, to endure the life of a slave. Her past had not dimmed or devoured her.

Li Yong and his soldiers were closing in on Chao’s store when he suddenly saw the familiar group of red and black stopping across from his men. He gave them a threatening glare. At the front of the group was Young Jun, son of their current leader Father Jun. Li Yong thought the son was careless and hot headed. He didn’t have the true skills of leadership. And then there was Ah Sahm, Mai Ling’s brother. He was an impressive fighter, and Li Yong was itching for another fight with him, and from the way Ah Sahm was staring the young man was thinking the same. And lastly there was Bolo, The Yellow Demon. Now he had skill and was not one to take lightly, especially now that his spies that are implanted in the brothel have informed him that he and their new doctor have shared many nights together in the brothel. But it was just sex, but he would confirm this later on from her.

“And what the fuck is Long Zii doing in Hop Wei territory!” Young Jun snapped. Everyone was on edge and tense. Li Yong just smiled coyly as Chao was just now stepping out as if to open his shop.

“Simply here for Chao. Nothing more, nothing less.” he said. Chao immediately looked at Li Yong then Young Jun, and immediately his jaw tightened.

“Oh what the fuck! Whatever this is, take it somewhere else, please tong fights are bad for business.” he said. Li Yong would normally have his attention on Ah Sahm or even Young Jun, but this time, he was watching Bolo carefully and the enforcer noticed it, his body stiffening to show he was ready to scrap. Bolo has never fought the Long Zii lieutenant, but now he was itching to find out how good he was.

Li Yong finally looked back at Chao.

“We came to collect some belongings.” he said. Chao’s eyes lightened just a bit.

“Everything went well then…I’m glad.” he said with relief.

“Yo Chao don’t you want to know why we’re here?” Young Jun asked smugly and now all attention was brought back to him. Chao sighed.

“Here to make a purchase, I assume?” he asked. Young Jun shook his head.

“Nah we’re here for your associate, Amaka. Words gotten out she was seen walking into fucking Long Zii territory not too long ago, which could only mean she’s healing for Long Zii or she got lost, because I know she wouldn’t pledge loyalty to these fucks after talking to my father about joining our tong.” he said. Now Li Yong’s eyes darkened as he could sense the edge in the man’s voice. Chao arched a brow.

“She’s her own woman and she’s free to do whatever she wants.” he said. Young Jun nodded.

“So, get her out here, I want her to deny my father’s offer to my face.” he said stepping closer to the shop. In reaction, Li Yong and his soldiers stepped closer, which made Ah Sahm and the Hop Wei soldiers do the same. Bolo’s glare darkened and he was locked on the enemy tong now. He knew Amaka wasn’t here, and he knew she had made her choice in tong. He pushed her right into their hold!

Young Jun just glared at Li Yong.

“You got something you want to fucking say?” he asked. Li Yong just smiled wickedly.

“I am just here to collect the items of our new healer.” he said acidly yet calmly all at the same time. Chao’s instincts immediately kicked in as he was already running back inside as the two tongs collided throwing fists and swinging hatchets.

[siempre-bucky]

Hello 🧡 may i make a request for TOP GUN BLURB NIGHT? Bob with the prompt (going to an amusement park, sharing a kiss in the alley way)

Please and thank you!

Bob Floyd x Reader

wc: 824

a/n: thank you for requesting my dear! I hope you like it!!

At first, you weren’t sure what a first date with Bob would’ve been like. You were expecting something quiet like a trip to walk along the sandy beach or a simple dinner and movie where he didn’t have to talk. You didn’t expect a carnival for your first date with the shy wso, and you certainly didn’t expect to learn so much about him in one night. 

You first learned that he was a gentleman, everything a young man should be. He arrived on time with flowers in hand, Bob dressed in his casual clothes alone made you want to invite him inside and skip the event altogether. He never let you open your door, playfully smacking your hand once or twice when you tried out of habit. Your wallet? Forget about it. Bob respectfully told you to put it away. 

“Bob it’s just lemonade, I got it,” you laughed, holding up your wallet. 

He shook his head and pouted his lips, “No, ma’am. Can’t let you do that,” he smirked. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you lowered your wallet and snatched the cash he held between his fingers, murmuring that you’d buy him something before the night was over. 

You then learned he was a little league champion pitcher and that he didn’t respond to the game booth worker's taunts kindly. “They’re assholes, Robby, don’t buy into that,” you told him, holding onto his arm. The dark blond shook his head and walked over, the baseball fitting nicely in his hand. The sight of it made you weak in the knees, you suddenly had a thing for baseball players. 

It was so very hot watching him adjust his glasses and seeing how his arm muscles flexed as he threw the ball. “For you,” he hummed as he held out a small brown bear from the dumbfounded worker to you. You took it gladly in one hand and held his hand with the other. 

“Did you play a lot as a kid?” you asked as you walked, your eyes scanning the happy crowd. 

Bob nodded as his thumb swiped along your hand for comfort, “Y-yeah, played all the way through high school. Some of my wso friends and I get together and play when we’re stateside,” he admitted shyly, obviously, he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, but you loved when he did.  

He talked your ear off, swapping stories as you stood in line for rides and for food. He told you of his childhood and you shared about the town you grew up in. You learned that he had a weak stomach for food smells, one whiff of a turkey leg stand and it cut him off mid-story. You held him up and guided him out of the area, placing him on a lone bench.

“Are you ok?” you asked, searching his face for discomfort. 

“I-I’m ok,” he grumbled while he held his stomach, “That truck just smelled really bad—jus’ got a little nauseous,” he tried to laugh it off. You smiled and rubbed his back before telling him you were going to buy him some water. For once, he didn’t protest which made you smile, happy that you could do something for him.  

You sat there for a while, talking and watching the people pass you. His knee bumped into yours and you didn’t flinch away, his touches were always soft. You assumed physical touch was his love language. His hand always seemed to find yours when in a crowd, he thought himself to be daring by putting his hand on your knee. “Are you feeling better?” You asked. Bob blushed and nodded sheepishly. 

“Much better, I’m sorry we had to take a break.” 

You giggled and took his hand, pulling him up with you. 

He was a boy scout, he told you in line for the Gravitron. “We were earning our camping badge and one of the other kids swore he was a UFO in the sky,” he blurted out, his blue eyes watching the machine spin rapidly. 

“A baseball player, a boy scout, and a weapons systems officer—do you have any more surprises for me, Floyd?” you giggled, nudging him with your elbow. Bob jokingly covered his stomach and let out the prettiest laugh you’d ever heard. 

Bob did in fact have one more surprise up his sleeve: he was the best kisser in the world. The way Bob had you pinned up against the wall with his hands digging into your hips and a knee between your legs had you melting. The alley was dark enough so you wouldn’t be seen but you could still see the bright fluorescent lights on his features. “Robby,” you whined as he pulled back, dragging your lower lip between his teeth. 

“Is this ok?” he asked, his voice low and husky near your lips. 

You nodded eagerly and cupped his face, “Don’t stop,” you whispered before crashing his lips back into yours.

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[dreamersdreamloud]

Coming Home To You

Lena Luthor x U.S Marine Reader 

You’re excited for more than one reason. After an unexpected accident during a secret top mission that had you bedridden for almost a year, you finally get to go home. The military has given you the clearance to fly back to National City and reunite with family and friends for a couple months. 

Your captain was nice enough to convince the higher ups to reconnect and relax before duty calls again. You tried to tell your captain that it wasn’t necessary but you didn’t win the argument and just accepted it. 

“You did good work, Ace. Take the leave. You deserve it.” 

Ace. The nickname your captain gave you. You liked it. The reason he calls you Ace is because you’re one of very few good shooters out there in the Marines. You didn’t believe it yourself but you tend to prove it all the time. From shotguns, rifles, handguns, and arrows. You are a sharp shooter with any weapon you handle. 

“Thank you, Captain.” 

You touched down in National City. The feeling of finally being home is glowing. You play with a small engagement ring attached to your dog tags and look out to the window as the plane makes its way to an unoccupied gate. 

Lena Luthor. Your genius, beautiful loving rich girlfriend is who you want to see first we you get back to the city. The woman you’re planning to propose very soon. Just the thought of making Lena your wife made you smile. 

“Are you married, dear?” 

An elderly woman who was sitting a few seats next to you asked with a sweet caring smile. She caught you playing with the ring with your fingertips. 

“Oh no, ma’am. I’m planning to get married though. Hoping it turns out alright.” You said respectfully 

“The person must be lucky to have you. Her patiences will pay off once you pop the question.” 

You chuckled, “thank you, ma’am. But it seems like I’m the lucky one. She’s the most precious treasure that I have found in my lifetime. I just can’t believe that she’s still with me.” 

“So sweet. I wish you luck on the next chapter of your life.”  

Everyone was getting up from their seats and collecting their luggage. You quickly offered your help to the elderly woman and talked to her a bit more until you parted ways. 

You stopped by your hotel room first to drop off your belongings and take a quick shower to freshen up. You switched to a fresh new pair of your uniform and made yourself look more presentable. You made sure to hide any new war scars you have collected from the past months. 

Next, you stopped at a flower shop and bought Lena’s favorite flowers before heading to her penthouse. You know for a fact that she’s there since it’s a Sunday. She shouldn’t be in L-Corp working. 

You were getting nervous yet eager as the elevator pulled you up to her floor. You pop in a few mints and rapidly chew on them, leaving your mouth extra minty. You don't know how you got off the elevator and made it in front of your girlfriend's door but here you are. Flowers in hand and ready to give Lena a very long passionate kiss. 

You knocked on the door and waited for the woman to answer. The minutes passed we’re feeling extra long. You thought about how she could still be sleeping. You checked your watch before you got here. It remembered that it was already 10AM, she shouldn’t be sleeping in any longer. 

You knocked again. 

After a couple of minutes, you heard her moving towards the door. Lena finally opened it with just half of her body sticking out. 

She looked out of breath but totally shocked once she saw you. You see that she was just wearing one of her thin silk robes. She looks flushed and finds a couple of love bites on her neckline. 

Your feelings of happiness and nervous energy drain out of you. The two of you didn’t utter a word. 

“Hey, honey. Who’s at the door?” A very familiar voice ruined the moment. 

You know that voice. You know who it belongs to. You adjust your eyes behind Lena and find your youngest sister, Kara. She was just wearing sleep shorts and a loose t-shirt. Clearly, she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath since the impression of her hardened nipples could be seen. 

Kara stopped where she stood and gave the same reaction as Lena. 

“(Y/N), I can explain.” Kara spoke out first. 

You produce a dark chuckle. Your world around you is falling apart and burning fast as your anger is building up. 

“Darling, please. Hear me out.” 

You dropped the flowers and looked at the lovers dead in the eye. 

“My girlfriend is cheating on me. . . .” 

“(Y/N).  .” Kara reaches out. 

“NO!” You bark out. “I don’t need your damn explanation. It’s very clear what’s going on here. I can’t believe you two. I know that I was gone for a very long time. Yes I didn’t message you. Yeah I couldn’t tell you that I was caught in an accident and that I was fighting to keep myself alive! . . . I was keeping myself alive because I knew deep down that I wanted to come home to you. . .”

Tears were starting to fall. You felt so vulnerable. Moments of you and your team clinging on to your life while the helicopter crashes down flashes in your mind. Anger was boiling inside you. You hated how that accident happened. You hated that you couldn’t write to your family, friends, and girlfriend that you were in recovery mode. You hated knowing that they possibly thought you were dead to them. 

What you hated the most at the moment was finding your girlfriend cheating with your very own sister. 

“I just can’t believe you two. Lena, my own fucking girlfriend cheating on me. . . What’s very worse is that you’re cheating with my damn sister! My own fucking sister, Lena!” 

You shook your head in disapproval and started to walk away. Lena quickly grabs onto your wrist to stop you from leaving. You turn to her. Looking like a mess with tears running down her face. The look of guilt and disappointment was written all over her. You yank your arm out of her grasp. 

“Don’t bother. I wish both of you good luck with your new loving relationship.” 

Your last words sting your shattered heart. You speed walk to the elevator, ignoring Lena’s pleading cries. When the metal doors were closing, you last saw Kara trying to comfort your ex-girlfriend on the floor but the woman was desperately trying to break away. Kara was stopping her from running after you. 

When the doors finally closed. You broke down even more. Moments of you and Lena spent together flashes within you. You remember your first kiss with her. Your first time having sex together. The time was when she attended your award ceremony. The time where the two of you and your sisters spent the holidays in Midvale. 

Moment after moment adds nails to your heart. You punched and kicked the metal doors as hard as you could. Not caring that you’re damaging private property. You couldn’t feel the pain you were doing to yourself. You just felt numb. 

Tomorrow you’ll feel the pain you have physically brought upon yourself. In all honesty, you rather feel that than your aching heart that’s falling apart. 

You didn’t want to call any of your family members or friends. You wanted to be alone in your hotel room. You open a new bottle of whiskey and drink straight from it. You got out your untraceable cell phone and called one person you like to talk to. 

“Ace?” 

“I want to shorten my leave time.”

[allrisegifs]

All Rise 3x04

Robin couponing and buying everything in bulk. Does he have any pro tips?

Oooh, I love Lola’s breifcase.

Is Lola going to get food poisoning?

Weekly jogs? When did they start this then?

I was hoping for a pinky promise.

I would like to see Sara’s Barbie socks pls.

Lola’s boots 👀 Forklift chic?

Is Luke being manipulated by his client? The framing and background noises seem ominous.

Robin putting all the shea butter in her briefcase😂

She can put one in her drawer, one in the car, one in her purse etc

Amy taking the gratitude for Ness’s kindness.

Do the writers not want us to like Amy this season??

Sherri sees a psychic against her will. Did Lola plant her there?

Lola calling out the detectives 👏

“And do not interrupt me again.” Yes, ma’am, your honour.

Sherri still leaving the 802 🥺

The defendant is a forklift operator. Is Lola matching her wardrobe to her cases?? asldkfjsk

A discussion about what defunding the police really means. We love to see it. 👏

Oh, so the male judge actually has valid thoughts on police reform.

Saying this, she casually threw aside a large rock.

Oof. Did we need to see that. The description was vivid enough.

The detective didn’t do his job properly did he?

The Canadian mom always revealing vital information at the last minute

Emily: 😩

Cycle City Lola. Respectfully 👀🥵

Are Robin’s coupon moms scammers??

Theory: The defendant is guilty but will get off because of sloppy police work.

Mark and Luke shouldn’t be socializing during the trial, right?

The giftcard WAS counterfeit 😂 A wanted scammer.

“I plead the Fifth, Your Honor”

*tickle fight* 

I love how they’re showing LoRo now he’s in it more. That they genuinely enjoy each others company and are still deeply in love.

Birth alerts? Wtf, Canada!

Sherri: 😡 🥺

Lola: It is a look of love and apology.

Sherri (and me):😭

I knew that was a Chimera! Wasn’t their a patient on House or Grey’s with it?

Luke definitely threw powerpoint parties in college.

Lola big mad. TBC

So much happening for everyone, I don’t know how real lawyers have the energy for it. I really enjoyed the casual domesticity this episode with LoRo, and Lemily too. The episodes need the calmer, lighter scenes between the heavy trial scenes. And I think the writers have so far found a nice balance.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

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

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

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

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption ‘ Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy. 

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.  

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

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

When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and  you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’  competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

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

Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

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

For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a  dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

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

Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your  parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

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

Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

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

In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

[whohaveibeenletting]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Description: Circa 2013, Thor tries to get Steve involved in an Asgardian party. Instead, Steve finds a nice girl he just wants to protect.  Warnings: Oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, innocence kink, dubious consent, Steve is manipulated, Thor is not a nuanced character in this. Written largely from Steve’s perspective. Overall it is dark-ish. Disclaimer: We’re all friends here. We can acknowledge that virginity is a construct and virgins aren’t any purer than than everyone else, but it’s kinda hot to pretend otherwise.   Word Count: 4811

The water's clean and warm and green. I’m scared of getting in.

‘A true Asgardian celebration.’

That’s what Thor had described this as when he invited Steve to his home the month following Loki’s defeat. In his head, Steve had imagined alcohol, which posed no danger to him, no matter how strong. Prompted by his worst worries of Thor pulling him in to some kind of battle off world, he’d put this visit off for as long as possible, giving him time to prepare an array of excuses should he be asked to get involved in a conflict he has no part in.

He was not prepared for a room full of writhing bodies. People on their knees, their backs; everything on display. The room smells heady with wine and the mass of Asgardians sharing pleasure everywhere. He feels Thor’s hand on his shoulder, urging him towards a woman ready on the floor. Her head tilts back, her lips part invitingly.

Steve hears himself apologise to the woman in front of him. Without another word he’s ducking under Thor’s arm, hurrying out the first door he sees and trying to ignore the thunderous laughter which follows him down a long hallway.

Familiar shame floods through him. He feels the resentment in his chest, tight in his throat.

Must he always going to be the butt of the joke?

Some warning would have been nice, Steve thinks, would’ve declined more politely, if he’d given me half a chance. That poor woman, degrading herself like that for a man who didn’t even want her. His mind stays on that woman. Open and waiting. He wonders how that would have played out if he’d approached her, not that he ever would have. But maybe if he’d just let her-

Earlier, Steve had been shown a room where he’d been told he would be sleeping. When he finds himself back there, he stares at the bed and contemplates the prospect of staying the night. The possibility of Thor trying to pressure him into another rendezvous seems high.

He can’t avoid Thor. Eventually Steve will have to see him if he wants to go home. Steve doesn’t know anyone else, doesn’t have the first idea about how to leave this place on his own. Something about a gateway. Something about a bridge.

Christ, he just has to go. As soon as possible. Even here, when he’s on his own, he feels out of place. He thinks about the apartment he grew up in. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, but the whole thing was half the size of this single room meant only for sleeping. He doesn’t belong here. It was clear to him before, and it’s clear to him now.

With resignation, Steve takes determined steps towards the door when a woman rounds the corner suddenly. You just miss walking straight into his chest. He watches you reel a little, taking a couple steps back so that you can look him in the eye without craning your neck too much.

You correct yourself quickly. Hands behind your back, a pleasant smile on your pretty face. It dawns on him then that you’re a servant, dressed as the others were; a white linen dress. A sick pantomime of innocence.

“I’ve been sent to ask if there’s anything you need, Captain,”

“No,” he says sharply, feeling a little guilt when you flinch, but not enough to delay himself. “I just want to get out of here.”

“I am afraid it is impossible for you to leave without his permission.”

“Permission?” Steve barks, raising his eyebrows.

“Unfortunately,” you answer, voice shaking a little. “His Royal Highness is still occupied with the celebration. If you want to avoid that it would be best to wait until morning to speak to him.”

The morning? Steve sighs, defeated, and nods in answer.

“I apologise for any offence, Captain. But if you need anything you need only call.” You make to turn and leave, but guilt forces him to keep talking to you.

“I am sorry for being curt, Ma’am. I’m new to all of this. Where I’m from, people aren’t so...open.”

“There is nothing to apologise for, Captain. I have been told that Odinson parties can often be overwhelming.”

That gives him pause; the prospect of a like mind in this place more comforting than he’d like to admit. “You mean, you’ve never...”

“No,” you say quietly, frowning. “Well, not yet. They told me I’m supposed to start soon, actually.”

“You don’t seem too happy about it.”

You pause. Steve watches you trying to read him; trying to work out if he’s trustworthy enough to share your thoughts with. He keeps his face serious, wanting you to know that he means to listen with care. Instead, you tense. “It is an honour to serve any member of the royal household. I’m very lucky to have been gifted my position-”

“Hey, you don’t need to do that with me,” he says, smiling at you, keeping his voice gentle. You’re looking at him like a scared rabbit. Steve feels his heart swell with worry for the girl in front of him, trying to hide your distress. “If you tell me, maybe I can help.”

Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do!” You cry, covering your face with your hands.

"Let’s sit,” he says, directing you to the bed in the middle of the room.

Shaking your head and wiping desperately at your wet eyes, you protest. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

When you try to make for the door, Steve grasps you around the shoulders, his determination to understand your distress intensifying. “I said to sit.” He drops down beside you, keeping close in case you try to run off again. “I want to help you. But I can’t that you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Steve watches your fingers twist into the material of your skirt.

“It’s just that I’ve never done anything with a man.” You look up at him, your bottom lip shaking, eyelashes wet with tears. “I’m scared of the pain.”

“I’m sure Thor wouldn’t hurt you,”

“But he will!” You cry. "That’s what happens, the first time you’re there. They’ll make a game of it. Especially when they realise that no one’s ever touched me.”

“Jesus,” Steve curses, his stomach turning for this innocent girl. Your sobbing begins anew, and he places a comforting hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb along your soft skin. “I could talk to Thor. I could ask him to give you another job.”  

“There’s no allowance for special treatment. We all have our roles, and I have to take part. I can only hope someone gentle will take me first.”

Steve thinks about the room he just came from; the heady smell, the writhing bodies, the chorus of groans. It didn’t sit right with him. Experiencing it again would be torture. But this girl, pure and virtuous; you’re as hesitant as he is, if not more so. He cannot allow you to experience it without protection, without a watchful eye keeping the brutal men you describe from getting anywhere near your untried body.

“I could  make sure that you’re treated respectfully,”

“You would do that?”

“Yes. I won’t lie to you, the thought of going back to that room is not a pleasant one.” He smiles as comfortingly as possible. “But it’s important that you’re kept safe, so I’ll go back anyways.”

You look up at him. Your pretty eyes are sparkling with tears now starting to wane.

“You’re gentle,” you say, thoughtfully, hopefully. Steve sees where you’re headed, and shakes his head, trying to remain kind but firm.

“I said I wouldn’t take part in all that,” he reminds you. “And I meant it."

“You could have me now. Then you wouldn’t even have to go to the party. It wouldn’t have to happen in front of others.”

“I couldn’t, Ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“You mean you don’t want me?”

He swallows. Some deep dark part of him is screaming that he’s being a fool. This girl, he thinks, beautiful and pure. She’s offering herself yet you’re refusing her.

“You’re beautiful. Any man would be very lucky...” He makes a face, unsure how to finish. Any man would be lucky to fuck you, he thinks, feeling heat rising to his cheeks.

“It’s going to happen anyway, Captain,” you answer, your gaze running over him. A look of determination moves across your face. Then you’re moving to sit yourself on his lap, arms around his neck. “If you want me, you can have me.”

Steve almost whimpers with the way his cock is starting to ache. When you shift against him, he finds himself grasping your hips, encouraging you to grind down on his hardening cock.

He closes his eyes. He’ll allow himself just one more second before he stops you. The taste of the words he should say is sour on Steve’s tongue. I can’t. I shouldn’t. Not when you don’t have a real choice.

But your lips are sweet when you touch them to his; your touch gentle, your kiss almost chaste. When Steve looks at you again, your expression is so alluringly innocent, surprised at yourself for having done that. He wonders if you have ever kissed anyone before, his little ingénue.

You moan when you kiss him again, a little more desperate, like you’re getting addicted to the feeling. Steve sighs, bringing a hand up to your cheek. The skin on your face is unbelievably soft under his calloused fingers, and he’s desperate to find out if you’re soft everywhere. 

“I’ll look after you,” he says, giving in finally to what his body has truly wanted since he saw that woman on her knees earlier, since he saw you sitting on his bed. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip. Soft there, too. “I’ll take you gentle, doll. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, going submissively when he lies you on your back. He looks you over as he rises to his knees, hands greedily stroking your thighs, opening your body up to him.

Steve doesn’t waste time lifting the linen of your dress up to your waist, a pleased hum escaping when he finds you’re wearing nothing under the skirt. Your cunt is bare, already swollen with want. He knows that he wants you soaked. Wants you relaxed and slick before he puts his cock anywhere near you.

He throbs at the thought, tilting your knees up to your chest as he leans down to your sex. Steve breathes in the warmth between your legs, kisses the junction of your thigh softly. He hears you sigh, feels your tense body relaxing into the bed. Your comfort, your trust in him, your submission. It sends tingles down his spine.

Steve will keep you safe. He’ll keep you pleasured. And you know it.

“I need you to hold your legs open for me.” Steve watches you wrap your hands around the back of your knees for him without complaint, without hesitation. “That’s good,” he encourages, bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing in circles. He kisses your thigh again as you gasp, watches your pussy flutter around nothing. “You ever had anybody touch you here?”

You tuck your chin against your chest and shake your head. “Never.”

“You ever touched your little bud yourself?” You remain quiet, but your head is still. You make eye contact, eyebrows pulling together as he pushes you towards release with the rough pad of his thumb, still moving in circles. Steve groans at the guilty look on your face. His cock is starting to hurt with how much he wants you. “It’s better like this, isn’t it? Better with somebody else?”

“Better with you,” you correct breathlessly. “With you.”

“Show me, then.” Steve teases his fingers over your entrance, gathering slick and bringing it back up to your bud. You mewl, jolting with pleasure when he starts circling your clit again. “Want you to come for me like this, just like this. It’ll get that little cunt ready for me, yeah? We’ll get you so fuckin’ wet. All relaxed, then I can slide right in, alright?”

You nod rapidly, letting your hips roll against his hand while he rubs at you. No breaks, no slowing down. He can feel your clit quiver against his thumb. Steve watches as your body twitches and writhes, gasping. “Captain!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he says, bringing his thumb to his tongue for a quick taste of you, but it’s not enough.

While you’re still jolting with aftershocks, he leans down between your legs, taking a final breath of your arousal before pressing his lips where his thumb just was, kissing your little clit and earning a shocked cry. Steve groans at the taste; sweet, salt, and woman, letting his tongue lick wide over your sensitive button while his fingers stroke over your entrance. He wants to make you cum again, so fucking bad. “C’mon,” he says, tongue tasting you from your little hole to your clit. He gives your bundle of nerves a series of kisses and licks, feeling the jolt of your thighs around his head, though you settle them back open for him like he told you. “You wanna be good for me, don’t ya, honey?”

You hum in answer, long and loud as he pushes you over the edge with his mouth, sinking his finger into you so he can feel your tightness clasp and seize around him. You’re tight, your lack of experience evident in how you grasp him, but he can feel the wetness he’s pulled from you, how relaxed you are to let him in so simply like this.

He looks up at you from between your legs. Steve watches your chest as you breathe deeply, settling into letting him play inside you, whines giving way to moans. “You want to come for me again?”

“Yes,”

“You’re gonna let me in then, aren’t you?” He asks, rubbing the pads of two fingers around your entrance before he presses both inside. “Gonna take my cock?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Just one more like this, okay? Then we’ll look after both of us.”

He watches your face as you nod again, so acquissant, so willing to do whatever he tells you. He could get used to this; his sweet girl, trusting him so completely, knowing to let him guide you because he’ll always know what’s best for you. Better than you anyway, helpless as you are. Coming in here, begging him to take your virginity. And God, he wants it. Doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything so bad as to fuck you, to be the first man to take you. He scissors his fingers inside of you at the thought, wanting to get you ready but already knowing he’ll have to hold himself back when he’s inside.

“Captain!” You cry, digging your fingers into your thighs, hips moving for him, against him. He feels the satisfying gush of wetness against his hand and grins.

“Look at that,” he says, rubbing his fingers together to feel your slick, watch the strings of it. When he looks at you again, he half expects you to look ashamed, scandalised, confused. Instead you’re looking at his hands, his arms, his chest, breathing rapidly. When you reach his eyes, your lips open slightly. Your expression mirrors that woman on her knees at Thor’s party. 

Steve growls, grabs your hand and brings it to the top of your thighs, makes you rub your mound roughly, both of you listening to the slick sound of your wetness. “That’s you ready, isn’t it? Fuckin’ soaked for me now.” You nod, watching as he reaches to undo his belt. “Take that dress off. I want to see you when I give you my cock.”

When he finally gets a hand on himself, he almost whines at the relief. He gives his cock long, slick strokes and watches you pull your dress over your head. His eyes languish over the peaks of your chest, the feminine softness of your stomach and thighs. Steve rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, feels the sticky warmth of his cum against the pad of his finger and has a fleeting notion to make you taste it.

When he brings his gaze back to your face, he finds you staring at his cock, eyes moving with the slow pumps of his hand. “Think you can take it all? Take my whole cock in that nice little cunt of yours?”

You shake your head in earnest. Steve feels his body react to the edge of fear in your eyes now, his balls tightening in warning, forcing him to pull his hand away from himself. He has to calm down, has to settle before he gets inside you or he’ll lose his mind the second he does.

Steve sighs through his nose as he touches your thighs, opening your legs up for him again with your knees bent and feet flat on the bed. He kisses your knee gently. “You comfortable, sweetheart?”

You nod, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he tells you, settling himself between your legs and grasping his cock to gently prod at your entrance. “We’re gonna go gentle, alright? Gonna make it good for you. Haven’t I made it good for you so far?”

He feels your entrance give way to the tip of him as you breathe out. “Yes, Captain.”

Steve watches as he presses inside of you, his jaw clenching as his head is enveloped by overwhelming warmth. You’re wet enough that he thinks if he just gave one good thrust, he’d slide right in.

His cock reaches the end of you and you cry out sharply. Your hands come up to his torso, almost trying to push him away, but his cock feels so good nestled inside you good and deep. Steve can’t help himself but grasp you around the wrists and diverts your arms down over your head, holding them there with one hand. He leans over, face to face with you, watching tears pool in your eyes.

“It hurts.”

It hurts because he’s the first man inside you, the first to feel you like this. Steve moans at the desperate clench of your cunt around him. It’s torture not to move now that his cock is surrounded by tight, soft, warmth. He presses his face between your breasts, breathes in the clean scent of you; washed sheets and woman.

He squeezes your hands with his when he pulls his hips back, loosens his grip when he pushes through the resistance of your tight cunt once again. He can hear as well as feel the wetness trying to welcome him inside.

“You hear your cunt around my cock? I know it hurts, but your body wants me,” he tells you, pressing kisses up your neck as his hips start to move more steadily. “You need me.”

He thinks you answer, your response half gasp, but he’s too far gone to comprehend anyway. Steve groans into your neck as he fucks you, long and deep, his only favour to you keeping his strokes slow for now. He can feel your cunt squeezing around him, but he doesn’t care to know if it feels good for you yet. Doesn’t want to think about it when he knows he deserves to keep going even if you are in pain.

When he finally feels your legs moving to wrap around his waist, he risks looking at your sweet face again. He growls at the sight of you, your head thrown back in delight.

“Knew you’d love it,” he says, leaning up to press more kisses to your mouth. “Tell me how it feels.”

“So good. I didn’t know it could feel like this,” you whisper. “Thank you, Captain.”

Steve feels his balls pull tight at your words, his hips moving suddenly with more aggression. The push and pull, the desperate need to move in you suddenly too much for him to care about keeping himself gentle. 

“Again,” he says, teeth together, his lips pressed at the top of your cheek next to your ear. “Say it again.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Again,” he groans, his hand digs into your wrists enough that he just knows he’ll leave bruises in his wake. He hopes you’ll feel them throb tomorrow and think about him, crave him again. Steve brings his other hand down between your legs, playing with your clit roughly as you keen.

“Thank you! Thank you, Captain.”

His head feels light when you come, mewling while you clamp down on his cock, your cunt begging him to fill you right. Steve wants you addicted. He wants you to know that no matter who comes after, he’ll always be the one that took you best. 

You’re whimpering when the knot in his stomach snaps and he finally cums inside you, overstimulated and weak, but holding his hips tight with your legs anyway, encouraging him to keep fucking into you until he’s sated. The relief is overwhelming. Steve falls against you, burying his face in your chest again. He lets go of your wrists to wrap his arms around your waist, and your hands go to his hair. You brush through it with your fingers, petting his sweaty forehead lovingly.

Your legs are shaking around him when Steve finally pulls his softened cock free, unable to stop himself from watching your swollen centre dripping with your slick and his cum. He pulls his shirt off his overheated body, fights his trousers from his warm legs. Steve’s exhausted, but when he glances over at you again, lying ruined at his side, his tender cock jolts with interest. He curses the serum for his recovery time, knowing there’s no way he’ll be able to take you again today.

He lets himself fall beside you, sighing. Steve watches your breath even out, the rise and fall of your breasts hypnotising until you turn to look at him, capturing his eyes with your gaze. Suddenly, he’s feeling a touch ashamed. He’d lost control near the end there. His thoughts were too shameful to ever share, but you must have felt the aggression in his movements. The way he’d held you down.

“I didn’t hurt you at all?”

“No,” you breathe. “No, it was wonderful. Thank you, Captain.”

Your breathy voice sends a tingle down his spine, the reminder of what pushed him over the edge. Before he can help it his cock is swollen and pink against his stomach. Steve hums awkwardly, reaching for a pillow to cover himself when you notice. Your hands press against his chest as you sit up.

“You need further relief,” you say, climbing into his lap.

“No- I mean,” he stumbles, his cock throbbing at the thought of having your cunt around him again. “Not if you’re sore. You need to heal, right? I think-”

You breathe a low shhh into his ear, grasping his cock and bringing the red tip to your entrance. “Your seed will soothe me best.”

He watches you on top of him as you ride him, looking for pain in your expression. He finds only satisfaction, and lets himself enjoy the woman sitting on his cock for his pleasure. You don’t come again, physically couldn’t after tipping over the edge so many times already. When he fills you up one more time, you moan low and long, squirming over him like the feeling of his warm seed in your cunt has genuinely soothed the ache he’d left behind.

Afterwards, you settle back into the bed like lovers, a leg thrown over his abdomen, your head resting against his shoulder while he smooths his hand up and down the soft skin of your back. You look demure once more, shy in spite of what just happened. Your gaze shifts from your fingers on his chest to his face, hurrying away again when you find him already staring at you. Steve pauses, the euphoria of having you giving way to the dread of what you will have to go through soon.

Other men.

“I’ll speak to Thor,” he declares assuredly. “I'll tell him to keep you away from the others. That I want you to be mine only.” 

There is something strange in your gaze, then. Pity? Maybe you think it’s impossible, that nothing can save you from your fate. Steve makes to continue, to convince you, but you give a soft shhh. “Don’t speak of it, please? I want to enjoy being with you now.”

“Of course you can,” he rushes, feeling foolish now for shattering the calm that had surrounded you. “Does it...do you feel alright?”

“I feel wonderful, Captain.” you whisper, smiling at him tenderly.

“Steve,” he corrects, finally, feeling he’s enjoyed hearing you call him Captain more than he deserves already. “My name’s Steve Rogers.” You only hum in answer, settling back into his shoulder as if to rest. He realises he wants that, too. He wants to sleep here, holding you in his arms. 

He will speak to Thor tomorrow. He’ll keep his girl protected. “Hey,” he whispers, hoping you aren’t lost to him yet. “What’s your name?”

But you’re silent, already sleeping.

The next morning when you wake up, Steve is pressed tight against your back, his body overwhelmingly warm. The soft sheets, the roughness of his chest hair on your back, it’s heavenly. You think that you would be happy to settle in this very spot, never move for the rest of your life.

But you can’t. The sun is rising outside, calling you to start your day, and you must leave before the Captain wakes up. Gently, carefully, you unwrap his arm from your stomach, shifting out of the bed quietly. You wince as you stand, an unfamiliar throb between your legs which reminds you how fully this man took you. It hurts, but it brings a pleasant feeling from your core upwards. How wonderful to have been taken so thoroughly.

You stare at Steve as you dress yourself. The pleasant path his nose takes from his face, his full bottom lip, those eyelashes fanned out against the top of his cheeks. His soft blonde hair is messy from a deep, satisfying sleep, but maybe also from your time together. Your cheeks heat up.

You’re desperate to kiss him. But you don’t deserve it, not after lying to him the way that you did.  

You’re lucky he hasn’t woken already. You tip toe away from him and out the door of his room. As you walk to your destination, you avoid meeting the gaze of passers by, wondering how many in the palace will already know what transpired between you and Thor’s noble friend from Earth. There’s no shame in what you did with him, it’s as natural as breathing. But you are ashamed to think of how it happened.

When you reach the Prince’s private rooms, you’re led in by a guard who was already expecting you, and you find your Prince enjoying the mouth of another servant. You avert your eyes as he finishes.

He calls you over as the girl stands, clapping his hands in excitement. “How was your time with my friend?”

You nod, the memory sweet despite your deception of Steve. “Pleasing, Your Highness,” 

He roars a pleased laugh, slamming his hands together in a pleased clap that practically shakes the room. “I knew he’d want to feel like he was saving you from my terrible cruelty,” he chuckles. “I’m sure he liked knowing you were untouched too.” 

You don’t reply, hoping he won’t question you any further. You’re not proud of lying to Steve, of telling him that you’d be forced into attending Thor’s celebrations, that he and his comrades would treat you terribly. The reality was that it had always been your choice whether to join in; who you wanted to be with, whether you wanted to be with anyone at all. Even the choice to deceive Steve had been yours to make in the end. 

You’d idolised him from the way Thor had described him when he returned from Earth. Kind, brave, and honourable. And then to see him, as handsome as he is. 

The truth was you wanted him. You wanted him to take you first, and you would have done whatever Thor told you to do if it meant you could have him touch you.

Thor’s voice is calm when he says, “I assume he wasn’t rough with you.”

You think about Steve’s hands holding you down, and you feel the painful throb in your wrists. You’d cried out under him, but his thrusts were unwavering. It only sends heat through your core. 

“Not at all, Your Highness.”

[fenheart87]

The Dress

For @bloody-no-kissu, you're art is always amazing and inspirational! I love you bloody!

It was a rare day that Marinette was fully rested, had no events to attend and the bakery wasn't busy enough for her parents to ask for her help. Feeling inspired but not able to pick up a recent project without being hypercritical of her work, the young designer decided picking up something different might help. Grabbing a blue folder with various doodles and stickers, she spread the sketches one by one on her desk.

"Oh, these look great!" Tikki chimed, flying closer to examine the handwritten notes.

"I know but I can't choose! I want to do them all, eventually but where do I start?" Marinette huffed, eyeing the designs with a playful pout.

"Hm, why not choose randomly? You could number the designs and put matching numbers on slips of paper to pick the one to start with!"

"Tikki, that's a great idea!" Marinette cupped the floating ladybug gently in her hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before scribbling on a scratch paper. Tearing the numbers apart, she put them in a hat and let Tikki do the honors.

"Here we go!" Tikki dropped in the hat and shook the pieces around before flying back out with one piece between her paws. Twirling in excitement, she opened the paper and held it up like a sign. "Lucky number four!"

"Okay so four is," the designer stacked the extra papers and pulled out the fourth design page, "this one. Huh, I don't have one color scheme for this, I made two. Oh wait, this started out as a design for Rose but I made something else for her. I can finish this dress for me though, time to go fabric shopping!"

"Oh can you get some crushed velvet? It makes a wonderful bed." Tikki asked, hovering by the trapdoor as her holder ran around the room to gather her things.

"Sure! Any color requests?" Marinette paused to let the kwami zip into her purse, handing Tikki the list.

"Blue or green, maybe aquamarine!" They shared a giggle before the designer made her way downstairs to let her parents know about her trip into town.

"Maman, Papa, I'm going to the fabric shop. I've got so much creativity I feel like I'm going to explode!"

"Well we don't want that, then we couldn't possibly have family bear hugs!" Tom shouted, scooping up his wife and daughter who giggled and snuggled in for the hug. "Please be safe and call if you need help or eat somewhere else for lunch."

"Of course Papa!" Marinette withdrew from the hug and grabbed her personalized tote bag that she used for trips like these. With one last wave goodbye, she set off to her favorite shop. A ten minute bus ride and quick shortcut through the plaza, she arrived in front of The Special Thread. The bell rang merrily as the younger design held the door open for an elderly lady before beelining towards the crushed velvets. It was the backrest left corner and after a glance around, Marinette popped open her purse to let Tikki out to be able to help pick out the right color.

"Okay here are all the cool colors of the crushed velvet and then here’s the penne velvet too. What did I need and who did I need it for? Oh wait, the list!” Marinette knew the shop owner and many of the regular customers were used to the young designer talking to herself as they tended to indulge in the habit as well. Actually checking the list after fighting the urge to ruffle through the soft velvets, “I need a burgundy color to accent Marc’s and a peachy tone for Nathaniel, more princess tulle for Rose and some black lace for Juleka… Oh that’s perfect!”

“Marinette, I like both of these colors but can't choose…” Tikki chimed, respectfully waiting until Marinette’s attention was back from her creative mindset.

“It’s on sale, why not get both and I can make a matching pillow or something? I have a coupon too and those colors are gorgeous, the blue reminds me of Luka.” She may have not noticed the dopey grin on her face as she grabbed the selected velvets and moved to another fabric wall  but Tikki could see it clearly and cheered internally. “Let’s get a couple yards of each and then I saw the perfect shades for Marc and Nathaniel but Ms. Cribler might have more in the back so I can get a little extra, just to be on the safe side.”

“Hello, Marinette, you looked especially inspired.” The shop owner smiled as she spotted Marinette, sorting through some bolts of fabrics to be put away from previous customers. Today she was sporting her favorite cardigan, the plum on bottom faded into lilac near the collar and the different embroidered designs and patches were still like new and matched her skirt that had vines and flowers blooming all over in a field of wildflowers. The addition of several animals made Marinette smile, it was the elder woman’s way of supporting the superheroes that protect their fair city.

“Hello Ms. Cribler, I am feeling very inspired and had to even get creative in choosing what to make next! How has the shop been today, need me to return anything? I’m passing through the solids and plundering the lace next.” The young designer placed her chosen bolts of fabric on the counter, eyeing the rather large pile that was being sorted.

“Oh things have been busy, it seems the creativity is floating in the air! I can hold these until you’re ready of course, if you can run this pile,” Ms. Cribler patted a pile with about ten bolts of various creams and browns, “they need to be put away. I have gotten everything I need from those. Is there anything in particular I can check the back for?”

“Ah yes, I need some more of this burgundy shade and if you have more peach colors, something more pale orange and less pink peach color that would be perfect. I’ll take these with me and see what I can find in the lace bolts.” Marinette picked up the pile with ease and marched carefully to the proper section and began putting them away. Tikki joined her, zipping back and forth to help quickly find the right spots she needed. Once those were completely put away, the duo weaved through the aisles and found the lace bolts. With a soft hum, the young designer pulled several options down. Marinette set them down on the return cart that was nearby, carefully unrolling them just enough to see a clear picture of the lace.

“What part of the dress is going to be lace?” The kwami inquired, floating at the top of the pink bag.

“Mid back up to my shoulders, just along the back side.”

“Oh, then this one would be so pretty!” Tikki flew up and showed off her choice, wrapping it around her tiny body like a toga.

“Super stylish Tikki!” Marinette giggled and returned the other options back to their proper places. Picking up the one she wanted to purchase and making sure Tikki was in her bag once more, she weaved her way back to the solids for another look and didn’t have anything that spoke to her. Continuing on, Marinette returned to the front cutting table where Ms. Cribel was helping out a familiar face but not a familiar face to see in the shop. Tikki giggled and ducked completely out of sight, closing the clasp of the purse.

“Found the lace alright Marinette?”

“Yes ma’am, take you time Luka, I still have to check out these other colors.” The girl smiled brighter as the other customer turned around, his typical and slightly goofy Luka smile in place.

“Hey Marinette, look like you have quite the haul.” Luka teased, shifting to talk to her.

“Yeah, I just had this moment of inspiration but now that I think about it the dress I’m making would be ideal first date material… I could tweak it for Rose and embellish it a bit for an anniversary vibe…”

“Is the dress for you?”

“Yeah it was originally, I just don’t think I’m going to have a date to wear it for soon.” Marinette scrunched her nose slightly, it felt weird to talk about dating in front of Ms. Cribel. Finding a salmon color that would be fantastic, she moved the bolt to her purchase pile and scooted it closer to the register where Luka had a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Well why don’t you change that? Isn’t the dance coming up?”

“Yeah, in a couple months.” The designer giggled as a light pink dusted his cheeks, sometimes she wished she liked Luka first. That thought struck her like lightning and decided right then and there she was going to be true to herself and no longer be pressured by the Girl Squad for her change of heart. “Hey Luka, are you, uh well, are you busy later? The weather is really nice and Maman made the best dumplings and the park doesn’t have a big photoshoot or news report or meeting going on today…”

“Yea- no, I mean no but I mean yes.” Luka clenched his jaw while taking a deep breath to calm down, eyes wide with hope before continuing, “I have no plans unless you wanna have plans later?”

“Yeah, it’s a date… I just have to finish my dress first and I can text you?”

“Yeah, anytime. Ever. Yes.” The musician clench his jaw again, making Marinette laugh in sheer joy. He was just as nervous as her but they would work it out on their date.

“Okay, well I think you’re good to go and I still need my materials cut. Uh did you- nevermind.”

“Can I walk you home? I can carry some of your stuff, these are good for other things than playing guitar.” Luka playfully flexed his arm, seeming to forget he had his jacket on and she couldn't see his muscles.

“Oh you will and you had better let him or you’re banned from my shop.”

“What? Ms. Cribel-”

“Marinette, you have a boyfriend now. Call me Ana as a thank you for giving you a discount to celebrate. Now, how many of what do you need today dear? You need to hurry and get home!” The shop owner punctuated her words with a few snips of her scissors, reaching for the lace first.

“Ah, the lace I need four yards, six of the salmon and burgundy and since the velvet is half off..” Marinette dropped into thought and with a glance at the boy beside her made a decision, “let’s do ten of each. And my special order too, if you have it in.”

“I sure do! Let me finish this right up and I’ll grab it for you.” Ana swiftly unfolded the bolts and made precise, clean and quick cuts, working through the small stack in under a minute. The musician seemed a bit shocked but Marinette knew she could move faster and still have the same pinpoint accuracy. Folding all the cut lengths and wrapping the bolts once more to set them aside, the shop keeper tucked the purchases into a bag and threw in some extra thread. Leaning down to reach under the counter, she put another bag that had a receipt attached onto the counter as well.

“Did you have everything?” The young designer asked, rolling and tucking that big into the bigger one.

“Of course! You are my favorite customer, anytime you call I make sure I have everything or get it delivered before you show up. It brings me joy that you create so many beautiful things when these hands are not quite steady enough anymore, it makes me happy to see you thrive.” The younger was touched and the awe showed in her face, causing the older woman to smile.

“She is pretty amazing.” Luka’s soft voice drew their attention, Marinette blushing while Ana had a knowing smile.

“Total today is one week of fresh croissants and details of today’s date.”

“What? No, i couldn’t possibly take all this for free-”

“Marinette. I am trading you, your parents food and you story for my measly fabrics. I will simply kick you out of my shop if you refuse.”

“Okay but two weeks at least and I can come help you put things away.”

“Deal, now go finish your dress and knock his socks off!” Ana winked playfully, both teens were blushing as they left.

“She isn’t usually like that but thank you for helping me.” Marinette grinned shyly, Luka had taken the bag of fabrics before she could and left no room for protest.

“Seems like she knows you well. And of course Marinette,” the soft way he spoke her name was going to give her heart problems if it kept skipping every time he said it, “anything to spend more time with a beautiful girl.”

The girl in question just blushed and ignored him, not that Luka seemed to mind as he escorted her home in silence. It was a comfortable and breathable bubble they were in and not even when he had to catch her when she tripped boarding the bus that would take them to her house. In a smooth and thoughtful move, Luka managed to hold her hand without her noticing until the end of the bus ride, only smiling in his sweet way at her blush.

“Well thank you for walking me home, now I can finish the last piece and then we can go on our date.”

"Yeah, no problem. Now I know where to pick you up too." He grinned crookedly, her blushing was too cute.

"Yeah now you know… Um, I haven’t done this before and I know you’ve been there for you through a lot and i appreciate it so much but like I don"t want you to think I'm going on this date as like a rebound or something stupid to deal with Adrien when its not.”

“Marinette.” Luka met her eyes dead on, a growing smile on his lips. “You have never and would never lead anyone on like that. I have always respected your feelings, even when you decided to gift them to someone other than me. My feelings for you haven't changed at all, you’re still the song in my head.” This boy was too much for Marinette, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Luka calmly looped around her and gently guided her into movement again with a gentle press of a hand.

“You are something else.”

“A good something else?”

“Depends how nice our date is later!” With that teasing remark, Marinette used the last of her courage to press a kiss on Luka’s cheek before dashing inside and up to her room. Carefully the designer set down her purchases on her desk before jumping up and down and squealing in happiness.

“Great job Marinette!” Tikki giggled and flew in a few loops to show her excitement as well.

“Oh my gosh, Maman! I need your help, if you’re not busy!” Marinette stumbled a bit on her way down but caught herself before she fell. She knew this would be one of her best creations yet.