#my apologies to her readers who would otherwise have had a new chapter to read by now >.>

[edaworks]

For my lovely wife @twosides--samecoin, who has been preternaturally patient with my VERY delayed production of this parody of the album cover art for Tyler, the Creator’s Flower Boy (alt., Scum Fuck Flower Boy).

All she has heard this week is me apologizing for spending 2847383 hours on this after starting late and saying “just a bit longer” while alternately cursing Todd Howard for the 230-year old highway lines on Mass Pike and repeating “I hope you like kudzu”

Original album art below the cut.

Cover Artist: Eric White

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 11

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here 

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, Kelsie is her own warning 😈

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Super short but super important chapter here! This is setting up our Mega Angst for the story, which will be coming next! 👀

As always, thanks to @theradioactivespidergwen for the stellar divider! 🥰

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

Ugh, why isn't this coffee kicking in, you thought to yourself while you sat at your desk attempting to proofread several articles for the Thursday digital edition of the paper later that morning. I've read this same sentence no less than 5 times.

You shook your head, trying to clear it. The unusual quiet in the normally bustling office definitely wasn't helping your sleepiness. Maybe some stronger coffee will help.

You stood up and walked towards the break room.  Skyler had brought a bag of espresso roast coffee in the previous week and you were pretty sure there was some still left. 

You paused as you spotted Ellison at the Keurig. "Copier's on the fritz again," you said, walking over towards the cabinet that held the coffee mugs. "Thought you should know."

Ellison nodded as he waited for his coffee to finish. "Hopefully there'll be enough money in the budget to replace it next year. Damn thing's probably older than I am."

He looked over at you and squinted. "No offense, but you look like shit."

You huffed out a laugh. "Gee thanks, Mitch. You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"Rough night?"

You shook your head. "Just tired. I only slept about an hour last night." 

Ellison studied you for a moment. "Look, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go home and get some rest."

You opened your mouth to protest, then thought better of it. You were still exhausted and a nap honestly sounded wonderful at the moment. "Are you sure?" you asked instead. "I was just going to get some more coffee and try to power through the rest of the day."

Ellison nodded. "Absolutely. It's been a slow news day, and besides, you've been working your ass off lately and deserve a break."

You smiled. "Okay. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Ellison shrugged. "Eh, don't get all sappy on me. I just don't want you burning out on me, otherwise who else would tell me if my editorial column sucks or not?"

You grinned. "Oh I'm sure people would be lining up for that privilege."

Ellison chuckled. "Seriously, go get some rest."

You nodded. "I will. Thanks, Mitch. Really. I'll see you tomorrow."

You walked back out to your desk and gathered your things, then stopped by Skyler's desk. "Ellison gave me the rest of the day off, so I'm heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

Skyler nodded. "Okay. Get some rest."

As you headed down to the first floor and out the door, you considered stopping by Daredevil on your way home so you could apologize to Matt in person.

You headed towards your apartment building, sighing happily when you finally walked in the door.

You shook your head. You were so tired that you honestly weren't even sure if you could come up with a coherent apology. I'll talk to him after my article is turned in.

You peeked in your pantry and refrigerator, wrinkling your nose at the paltry options you had for dinner that evening. Instead of a choice between boxed pasta, instant ramen, or leftover Chinese takeout you wished you had Matt's spaghetti carbonara, pesto-parmesan linguine, and tiramisu. Maybe I could order something for delivery later, try something else on the menu.

You headed into your bedroom, changing into something more comfortable before climbing into bed. 

Your mind drifted to your article. You really didn't want to have to replay the last few minutes of the blind tasting yet again, but you needed to add a bit about it at the end so you could give it a quick read-through then send it to Ellison.

You sighed. You were a professional, dammit, and no matter your feelings, you were going to write a damn good article about Matt… Even if you never spoke to him again after it was all over.

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night… No, take responsibility for your actions, Matthew. 

I'm sorry for trying to kiss you last night… Actually, no, I'm really not.

I apologize for my behavior last night. I must have misread the situation and… Ugh.

Matt sighed as he rode the elevator up to the Bulletin offices, wishing he would have had time to make a fresh tiramisu for you. 

He stepped off the elevator, unable to detect your now-familiar heartbeat among those of the rest of the Bulletin staff.

"Can I help you?" said a woman's voice to his left.

"Uh, yeah." Matt turned towards her and asked to speak to you.

"She's not here."

Matt sighed. Damn it. He probably wouldn't have time to come back later and based on what Foggy had said about you looking miserable he wasn't sure if you would be willing to come by the restaurant either. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Actually ," the woman continued, "she's out on assignment for the rest of the day. You know those investigative types, always looking for their next big scoop."

Matt furrowed his brow. That had been the exact opposite of the type of stories you had told him you were interested in writing. "I thought she was in Features."

"Oh, yeah, she is, but she really wants to be an investigative journalist, you know, digging up the dirt on people, finding out their deepest, darkest secrets and publishing them for the world to see." The woman paused. "Nothing nor no one is going to stand in the way of her and a good exposé… even if she has to make one up."

She made a dismissive sound. "Anyway, would you like to leave a message for her? I'll make sure that she gets it."

Matt shook his head. "Oh, uh, no, that's okay. I'll… catch up with her another time. Thank you."

"Sure thing. Have a nice day!"

Matt walked back to the elevator then headed down to the first floor. He had thought that he was getting to know you, but after that surprise revelation from your coworker he wasn't so sure.

He shook his head. Could you have been lying to him this whole time?

[monsterspet]

Just a Little Lie (Price) Chapter 1:

Sergeant Smith has absolutely landed themselves in hot water, well done babe. Captain John Price is not impressed, and neither of you have a good enough poker face to get past Kate Laswell.

Prologue:

A/N: You probably expected it to be Ghost first and I can only apologise, he’ll get his time.

The wonderful thing about fanfiction is that I can and will change the narrative to suit. Look forward to shifted timelines, canon divergence and more of a focus on character development.

Would Price, as Captain, be sleeping in the same barracks as his men? No - but it’s convenient to my shitty plot so it’s staying in.

*All* Y/Ns in my fics are GN! unless requested otherwise.

Slow burn - eventual smut. Canon Typical Violence. A bit of “hurt/guilt ridden comfort” meets unprofessionalism in this chapter.

As per usual, MDNI

Word Count: 5013 (I hate how long this is)

—-

“Y/N?

In the months that you had known John - Captain Price - you had seen a great deal of expressions on his face. You had seen the stoicism of his resting face as if carved out of marble as you walked around town. You knew well the playful frustration with your terrible jokes that accompanied his raised eyebrows and a slight huff. You adored the kind smile and the crinkle around his eyes that he gave you when he saw you waiting outside your little cafe. And you had just recently become acquainted with the quiet, smouldering intensity in his blue eyes before he moved in to kiss you. The way his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed, like he was a tightly wound spring.

The look on his face now though, you didn’t know at all. Thunderous was probably the best description you had, his blue ocean eyes a raging squall. His brows pinched and tight just above them, you swore you could see a twitch that betrayed the way he stood stock still amongst his squad. You could almost be sure that his beard itself bristled in anger as he pursed his lips, as if readying himself to shout. This was anger written all over John's face, and if you somehow never saw this look on his face again it would still be too soon in your opinion. He was angry, no, furious with you. And for the first time you found yourself straining in his presence against your fight-or-flight response that was screaming at you in the back of your mind to flee.

“Apologies - Sergeant Smith,” that name coming from his lips, tinged with hurt and practically dripping with venom, felt so viscerally unnatural, “our new ‘data analyst’ I take it?”

A well deserved verbal slap in the face, to be sure. Certainly a loud one if the way Laswell’s eyes darted between the pair of you was any indication, confusion and concern loud and clear in the tensions of her shoulders as she turned back to face you fully. She read your file, most likely could recite it front to back, as was expected when you work with delicate information and needed to put together a top secret squad such as this one. And you both knew as you made eye contact with the woman that Price or his prior SAS units had never once been mentioned. Not even a vague or tenuous working coalition between your teams. Yet here he stood, familiar enough to know your first name and specialty; and clearly with enough of an opinion to be ready to rage at your appearance in his taskforce. A man who gave no sign of recognising the name Sergeant Smith when he had been told over the phone that you would be joining the team. Here you stood, ready to bolt through the still swaying flaps of this tent just at the sight of him. Shocked to see him even though this obvious acquaintance you had between you should have meant you already knew who you would be working with when the name Captain Price was mentioned. You could practically hear the cogs in her mind screeching as they ground together at rapid pace, puzzle pieces slotting together too fast for you to be able to step in and assure her she was wrong.

First names only, clearly you didn’t know eachothers ranks either. No prior connections, and if that slight tremble in your lip or the way you winced as he addressed you was any indication; this anger was unexpected from Price. This was a personal relationship. One that clearly was going sour in the middle of what was brewing to be an international incident. You imagined that if Kate Laswell wasn’t such a staunch professional that she might cry in frustration at the situation unfolding. It would definitely make you feel better about your own tears that you could feel threatening to fall, the heat in your cheeks and the sting in your eyes as your vision clouded all too familiar a sensation. One you could not afford here or now.

“Is there an issue here, John?” Laswell had clearly made up her mind to not mention the obvious tension filling the tent, even as the other three soldiers were becoming restless, no longer standing to attention and all but outright fidgeting as they fixed their gazes on their Captain.

“No, Kate. No issues here. Hadn’t realised that you meant this particular Sergeant Smith,” despite the smile sent her way it was impossible to miss the way his eyes narrowed at you, as if daring you to in some way contradict the narrative he was trying to establish. You noticed the use of first names though, a mental note to file that away for later discussion. Much later, likely never if the way John’s eyes were set on trying to burn a hole through your face were indicating. Still, this was an out you were certainly not stupid enough to pass up on. Shoulders squared, throat cleared and professional face back on, you addressed your new temporary Captain.

“Captain Price, Sergeant Smith - Communications Officer, ready for briefing, Sir,” a nod, a little stiff was all the response you thought you would receive from John, until after a pregnant pause he moved to the side, arm out towards the monitor at the far end of the tent. Making room for you to stand next to him was a choice you likely would not have made, but in this scenario - where appearances needed to be kept up - you could see the logic. Couldn’t be any issues between the pair of you if he was willing to have you next to him for a brief after all.

“Well then kid, get yourself over here and we’ll get you up to speed.”

—-

Echo 3-1 moved with startling efficiency through the chemical compound at Verdansk. All the grace of a synchronised swimmer as he weaved in between empty train cars, his team close at his six. The man moved seamlessly from crouched stealth to open combat, squad formation tight as he directed the marines under his command with ruthless competency, Russian operatives barely firing a shot before blinding muzzle flashes illuminated the cold night air and left them riddled with American bullets.

The idea of chemical weapons being developed in Russian territory had you on edge. Chemical warfare may be illegal - especially on civilian populations, but you weren’t foolish enough to believe that if push came to shove that the Kremlin wouldn’t find just cause to utilise them under the radar. Not that your American allies or even the Westminster government could arguably be trusted to not cross the line of legality, particularly over in the East if the reports you had been seeing were any indication.

Regardless, these chemicals being in the hands of friends were a much more comforting thought than the Russians. Given what you were seeing though, you were finding it difficult to believe that the marines lost them. Their expert efficiency in clearing the facility and securing the transports containing the gas were textbook in execution. In and out - before anyone outside the compound even realised they had been. Until they got maybe 20 feet out the front gate.

Hindsight being 20/20, combined with the boosted brightness of the recording you were viewing had you flinching as you spotted the flaming truck come barreling down the embankment a second before the convoy did. Nowhere near enough time to avoid collision, and barely a moment to brace as the first truck went flying and Echo 3-1s windshield was cracked. The Russians were on them near instantaneously. Marines who were flung from the cabs of their vehicles, strewn across the concrete and dazed, didn’t even have a chance to grab their weapons at their hips as they were summarily executed where they lay. If the Russian soldiers hadn’t realised they were American when they did, you suspected Echo 3-1 would be among the dead as well.

The whole operation was a chilling reminder of just how quickly things could go wrong out in the field.

—-

You closed your eyes tight and pinched the bridge of your nose as the recording stopped, the last frame showing Echo 3-1 half pulled onto his knees and radioing for a medevac. The sight of the wounded and dying marines illuminated against the flames of the on fire transports. Sighing, you dragged your gloved hand down your face and turned to Laswell, leaning back to see her past the broad expanse of Captain Price's back, “This is where you lost track of the cargo? No sighting since?”

“No, none. Plenty of rumours though, which is where you come in. I need all ears to the ground sifting through the noise. We cannot have these chemicals free in the wind,” her blue eyes turned to focus on you, a serious intensity that rooted you to the spot, “I can verify any actionable information you find, but I need to know where I’m sending the task force, and I need to know soon.”

“Understood ma’am. When do I start?”

“You have two hours. I have an angry general waiting outside and a mobile command centre to commandeer - so use the time to get settled and find something to eat. It’s going to be a long night.”

With that Laswell turned on her heel and was gone - not so much as a backward glance to you or the rest of the team as she strode out into the blazing sun. The silence fell heavily over you and the men left behind, all turning to your captain for orders. Quite pointedly Price looked over your head to the rest of the squad, addressing them directly, “Boys, get to the mess. The sergeant and I will be joining you in 15. And keep your heads down - the Americans are on edge enough as is without you lot setting them off.”

“Aye sir,” the sudden Scottish accent had you turning, looking to the man with a mohawk. How he had gotten so close without you noticing was a mystery, it was staggering that men like him, tall and broad could move without a sound. He almost looked too young to be there though. Clearly not standard infantry. His right hand came up to clap you on the shoulder before you could stop him, the force nearly rattling you out of your boots. He was smiling at least, a kind easy smile that reached his shockingly blue eyes. “Well then rookie, see you in the mess.”

And with that he was gone, followed quickly by the equally young looking black man who offered a playful salute as he passed. The masked man however, was still leant back against the tent pole in the corner - eyes on you. Brown eyes that were staring directly at you, into your soul you would swear. Not a word from him as he took stock in you. A heartbeat passed, then two, before his gaze flicked up to John’s behind you. A quick nod, a small gesture you would have missed if you weren’t looking directly after him, and he left too. Leaving you alone with Captain John Price.

The silence between you both settled heavily in the air, much in the same way the smell of cigars did when you were alone together. This was an entirely different situation however, and far less pleasant an experience between the two of you. The characteristic noise of a working military base fading away as you made eye contact with John, replaced with shaky and shallow breathing from you both. Much like the other night, trembling hands were clenched at his sides, and you were vaguely aware of your own doing the same. Both of you straining against yourselves to not reach out to the other. Once again the intensity of his stare holding you in place like you would turn and run, though the hardened edge to it made your stomach drop and clench all at once. This wasn’t an innate need to hold you to him you were seeing, and you tried desperately to convey on your own face a thousand and one apologies that would somehow plaster over the cracks in the foundation you had built. The older man bristled as if he could read everything your eyes were trying to tell him, and none of those platitudes at this moment were going to be sufficient.

“Jo- Captain, I can ex-”

“Not a word Sergeant. Not one, and certainly not here.”

He didn’t need to raise his voice, let alone shout. You could hear the rolling, thundering anger behind his words as he gestured around the tent. His words were hushed, almost conspiratorial. He sighed, looking down at his feet and rubbing his brow beneath the brim of his hat. Blue eyes met your own again as his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, sadness and disappointment carved into every crease of his face. The churning of feeling of guilt felt like a punch to the gut; there had never been a moment up until this one in your life that you regretted more, and you found yourself cursing your own stupidity.

“Grab your things, I’ll show you to the 141s barracks.”

—-

The barracks assigned to the 141 were one of those temporary single story prefabricated cabins that had inevitably transformed into a permanent fixture that littered the base, a sight ridiculously common despite the inordinate budget afforded to the military. The cream exterior of the original building was faded, though it drew your attention away from the slate grey extensions that had been added to both sides of the structure, and most likely to the back too. Small windows set high up on the walls let in a minimal amount of light, and you knew from experience that you’d be working mostly by fluorescent strip lights in there, even during the day. John pressed his military ID to the card reader at the main entrance, having explained yours would be added to the system by tomorrow. Leading you inside you found yourself in what looked eerily similar to the livingroom and kitchen-ette of your first crappy little studio flat. As spartan as you had expected the communal space to be, you saw it featured a couple beat up and sagging couches, a recliner and a rather battered looking television sitting on top of a military supply crate in place of a console. The small coffee table in front of it was covered in half filled ashtrays, books and empty coffee mugs that really should have been left to soak in the sink if the colour of them was any indication. A couple hoodies and even a t-shirt were strewn about as well, very much indicative of what you would expect from a flat shared between men. Not so much an army barrack.

John strode through the living room and into the kitchen, pulling the cheap kettle off its base to fill it up with water at the sink, “Toilet through that door,” nodding to a door on the same wall the tv was sat against, “Showers through the opposite one,” his head jerked back as you turned and spotted the slightly ajar door and the tiled floor inside. “Rooms are round the corner, yours is the only one open, there's a key on the desk.” You could tell that you weren’t going to get much more from him at the moment, his voice as tense as his movements while he set the kettle to boil and began rummaging through the cupboards overhead. That didn’t stop you gazing at his back as you rounded the corner to your temporary room, second door on the left.

This was the spartan decor that you were expecting. A single bed sat against the far wall, standard thin and scratchy blue sheets already set up to regulation, a small desk with a metal chair and lamp to the right of the door, your room key sitting on top of a writing pad. Next to the bed was one of those temporary fabric zip-up closets, and you set your bag down in front of it. The exhaustion of the last few hours hit you all at once, and you found yourself sinking onto the edge of the bed, the mattress too firm for your personal tastes. You set your newly issued tablet down next to you and fumbled about in the top pocket of your tactical vest for your phone. Laswell had taken it briefly during the flight over to the base, and you knew that a security program had been installed, limiting your access to most of the basic functions of the device. No social media, emails, calls or texts would come in and you wouldn’t be able to send any out without submitting them for approval through the employee portal for the foreseeable future. They still allowed access to messages already on the device however - and you found yourself manoeuvring through your conversations with friends and colleagues to your text conversations with John.

Scrolling back some days you found the conversation with him just after you had gotten off the phone with Laswell initially. Apologies from both of you, mostly yourself however, that work had called you in and that your catch up would have to wait. Moving forward to last night, your thumb hovered over the message you had last sent him - thanking him for the food and not so subtly suggesting that you were looking forward to hearing his voice again, or his next kiss. You hadn’t expected a response but noticed that in the time between getting on your first plane out last night and the helicopter ride today that you’d received a reply. A voice note. In all the time you had known John you had only ever recieved texts that read almost like an email, formal and signed off with “John” as if it wasn’t obvious who sent you the message. You smiled wistfully at the memory of calling him an old man in the early days at the cafe for his lack of abbreviations or misunderstanding basic text speak. You weren’t even sure that John knew how to send a voice note.

And yet here it was, less than a minute long, but there none the less. From the kitchen you could hear the kettle click off, having reached boiling, and John clattering about with one of the drawers. You decided to play it while you had a moment, ensuring your volume was low as you held the phone to your ear, face cradled in your other hand.

     

“Hey there, Lovie,” your breath hitched. This was the John you knew. Calm, measured, but still a voice laden with all the familiar fondness you had come to know in the prior months. 

“I’ve got to hand my phone off soon so I don’t know when I can text you next, but I wanted to let you know that’s me here on the ground for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be home, but I hope it's not too long after you. What do you say we make a day of it when I’m back? Been a while since we last got a proper cuppa and I’m sure ol’ Moira at the cafe is starting to wonder where we ran off to,” you smirked at this, knowing all too well the looks the pair of you had been getting everytime you wound up at your usual table at Moira’s cafe, her knowing smile over the coffee machine as you prattled on about some nonsense to John filling your mind.

“Besides, you still owe me a home cooked dinner if I’m not mistaken,” he paused here, a small grunt as he cleared his throat, “and at least one kiss that doesn’t get interrupted by work. Speak to you soon darling.”

Your hand that held your phone fell limply into your lap, phone dropping from your hand and skating across the floor. Your other hand came up to grip your hair as you practically folded in on yourself, breath shuddering as you clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to not start crying. What an absolute idiot. John had been nothing if not a sweet man to you, and you’d certainly managed to ruin it today if his attitude was anything to go by. Nevermind not running him off by telling him you were a soldier, you’d done it by being a liar and potentially compromising this mission before it even got off the ground with fraternisation. Anger from your temporary captain was the least of your concerns now, this could very well lead to a transfer out and a black mark in your file. How were you supposed to face your unit when you made it back home after a fuck up this colossal in nature?

You were broken out of your burgeoning panic when John cleared his throat from the doorway. You nearly sprang up from the bed as you attention snapped to him, stood against the light of the hallway with a steaming mug in each hand. You hopped to your feet and swiped your discarded phone from the floor, locking it and shoving it into the pocket of your fatigues. Smoothing your hair back, you stood to attention, hands clasped to your tactical vest, “Sorry Captain.”

“At ease, Y/N. Take a seat. We need to have a chat before we meet the boys in the mess.” Handing you a cup of what smelled like coffee, he pulled out your desk chair and turned it round, swinging his leg over to staddle it, one arm resting across the backrest. You found yourself sinking back onto the bed, the warm cup cradled in your hands hoping that the warmth would seep into what felt like your freezing bones.

“Of course Cap-”

“John. It’s always been just John when it’s the two of us.”

The look in his eyes was steel, and his tone was full authority as your Captain. An order, one you were not about to disobey at this moment.

“Of course, John.” You looked away briefly as you took a quick sip of your drink, ignoring the biting sting of the too hot liquid against your lips and tongue, “Is this in regards to the mission? I can assure you that there won’t be a problem with-”

“Fuck the mission Y/N, this about you. And about me as well, clearly.” You could feel your stomach sinking as you were interrupted again, it was obvious that John expected you to sit and listen without a word.

“You’ve put us both in one hell of a situation with this little secrets act you’ve pulled, I hope you realise this,” you nodded, refusing to allow yourself to tear your eyes away from his as he spoke, “Had I known you were the communications officer that was being brought in I could have said no. I could have asked for Laswell to pick anyone else from her list of suitable officers. Now I’m stuck with you here in the middle of an international fucking incident, and one wrong move, one out of place comment from you could have both our asses pulled up for fraternisation. Do you have any idea what that will do to our careers, to MY career and my command posting? Any at all?” Clearly this was the part where you should say something, but you found your throat closing around anything that you could say that would satisfy the anger radiating off the man in front of you.

John could tell you weren’t going to respond, and the frustration roiled off him in much the same way the heat from your coffee did, “This is a small task force Y/N, and I need to be able to trust every member of my team to have each others back both here and out in the field. I’m finding it very difficult to believe that I can do that with you right now. You had months to tell me you were in the service, and instead you kept giving me vague answers and half truths at best. You could have said something when I told you I was shipping out, when I was walking you home. Fuck, you really should have told me before I kissed you.”

You set your mug down on the floor by your feet at this, moving to clutch at your fatigues in an attempt to stop the trembling in your hands, “John, I didn’t want to tell you right away for probably the same reasons you didn’t, and when you did, I thought it wouldn’t matter. What were the chances that I would be called up to your unit out of all the possible postings?”

He reached back behind him to set down his own cup before turning back to face you, “And being told that you were going to be under a John Price didn’t raise any alarm bells with you before you were shipped out? That maybe if you were too much of a coward to tell me to my face that you could do it over text?”

“We never exchanged last names John!” You immediately regretted the way you raised your voice, Johns shoulders tensing and his gloves creaking against the headrest and he gripped it tightly, “Regardless, have you stopped to think just how many Johns I could have been under before-”

Clearly this was the worst thing to say, John was up and out of his chair in an instant, the metal clattering to the floor as he was suddenly towering over you, forcing you back onto your elbows in an attempt to create space between you. His hands were on either side of your hips, face close enough to your that you could smell the cigars he smoked as his breath came out in near pants.

“How many Johns? Tell me love, how many ‘Johns’ have you been under? Am I dealing with a barrack bunny on top of everything else?”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Dare what Y/N? You were quick enough to suggest taking me back to your flat when you found out I was military. Wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibility.”

You hand a hand wrapped around his vest before you could even think to stop yourself. Fury was written all over both your faces at this point, “Do you honestly think that I would be sitting here if there was even an implication in my file that I was some sort of free-use whore in my unit? In what world would Laswell have me as her first choice for a mission as important as this if there was a chance I’d be bed hopping my way through it? I’m good at my job John, real fucking good. And I’d be working my ass off regardless of who my superior officers were, even if they just so happen to be you. Whether you believe that now doesn’t matter when this gets off the ground.”

You hauled him closer to you, white hot anger coursing through you as you stared directly into his eyes, almost daring him to argue with you. Insubordination was not a common trait of yours, but you had put in too much effort to get where you were to have it all waved aside as you sleeping your way up the chain.

“Give me one reason to trust you Lovie, just one.”

The tinge of near desperation in his voice wasn’t lost on you, John searching your eyes as his brows furrowed, one hand coming up to grip yours where it was still fisted in his vest. Had you not been high on adrenaline in the moment, maybe more sensible thoughts would prevail. But you could see the cracks in the mask John was wearing, could feel the way his heart was almost beating out of his chest, much in the same way as yours. Lovie, you’d heard that minutes ago in his voice note to you, but not with this heat. He’d sounded so eager to see you again, he’d made it all too clear exactly what he wanted with you. And right now, despite the utter insanity of it, that was all that mattered.

“I kissed you because you were my John. Not because you were Captain John Price, SAS. You could have been a man from any profession on Earth and I’d still have wanted you all the same.”

His lips were on you before you could take your next breath, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed you further back. Once again the intensity of his kiss had you reeling, all your senses wrapped up in this moment with him. Your lips parted for just a heartbeat to drag in a shaky breath before you collided again, a small moan escaping you. John took full advantage, his tongue swiping across your lower lip before meeting to dance with yours. This was full dominance, you hadn’t a hope at pushing back against this, practically pinned in place as he ravaged your mouth. You could feel your eyes roll back in your head behind closed eyelids, allowing John to take whatever he wanted from you. It ended all too soon for you both, John pulling back just enough that you could feel the string of saliva still connecting your lips break.

“Ah shit. Definitely fraternising now.” He leaned down to slightly to rest his forehead against yours.

You huffed out a laugh, peering up at him from underneath the lashes of your half lidded eyes, “Guess so. What happens now John-”

The door to the barracks opened and closed with substantial force, and you found John hurrying to extricate himself from your grasp. “Oi Captain! Are you an’ the rookie joining us or wha’? Been almost a half hour!”

You threw your head back in a silent groan.

Fucking Scottish bastard.

[tenkasato]

Helllooo!!! I really love how you write your fics! Can I request a Kagami taiga hurt/comfort where his s/o isn't feeling good enough about herself which resulted in her overworking and have a major panic/anxiety attack in the end? Then Kagami rushes in to comforting her

Hello, anon! I am SO SORRY for posting this late. I'm not even going to pull out excuses anymore *falls on knees*. But anyhow, thank you for the wait. I hope you still get to read this somehow. As a bonus and also a form of apology for my tardiness, I wrote another Kagami oneshot fic related to this request. Separate stories, but it was an idea that popped in my head as I was writing this. Here's the link. Thank you so much for the request!

I'm Home

Pairing: Kagami Taiga x reader

It was one of those days when everything seemed to be caving in on you.

Responsibilities. Career. Studies. 

Family. Superiors and colleagues. Friends. 

Your passion. Your lack thereof. 

Your own self. Your inadequacy. 

Your lack of sleep. Your throat coated with metal.

You had felt this before, long ago when you were yet again starting out a new chapter in life. Things spun out of control, and you were thrown off the trajectory, leaving you wounded on the ground. The world didn't stop for you, and over the years you had learned to accept it. You strived hard. You went all out—just so you would never be placed in that situation of helplessness and desolation again. 

And it was going fine.

It should be, right?

But why were you feeling this way again? A monster in your chest, clawing its way out of the cushions of your heart, shattering your ribcage in its wake. It made breathing hurt. You didn't even notice the tears in your eyes. The phone in your hand falls. 

You weren't even sure what was happening at the moment.

Up until the point you were suddenly ensconced with warmth.

"I'm here."

The silence rang in your ears, making an echo across the cacophony of noises surrounding you. But that voice rose over the mess.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly, his arms squeezing around your shoulders. Realization dawns on you.

And just like that, you were snapped back to reality. Suddenly, you weren’t afloat in your own mirage of hatred and self-loathing.

You felt him stir you away from the crowd. You're suddenly conscious of the people who caught wind of your recent plight. Embarrassment surged across your face, but Kagami paid no heed as he guided you towards the nearby bench. His hand never left yours.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked once your breathing slowed down.

You spared him a sideway glance, but dropped your gaze immediately. His garnet eyes seemed to bore into your very soul. It made you squirm in discomfort. With your eyes downcast, you missed the frown that rippled his features.

He grunted, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “When you called, I panicked. You weren’t speaking. All I kept hearing was your breathing… I thought you were in danger, or something like that.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t remember calling him at all.

“You told me you had days like this,” he went on, absently tracing your knuckles with his fingertips. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

You sighed and found your voice again. “I’m not into sharing the grimy details of when it happens. I’d rather not recall. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Kagami’s hand jolted as if surprised. He leaned a little towards you with a serious mask on his face. “Why are you apologizing?”

Taken aback, you spluttered, “Because—weren’t you at work? I’m an inconvenience—”

“Stop,” he interjected sternly. “You’re not an inconvenience, alright? Not to me. Not to anyone.”

“There’s just so much in my mind right now, Kagami-kun,” you lamented. “I’m not even supposed to be here, taking a break like this when there are so many things to do. Otherwise, I’m going to disappoint people again. I can’t bear that anymore.”

“Staying in that environment ain’t gonna help you either,” he argued. “This is what you need right now. Some fresh air. And some time to forget the crappy things.”

“It won’t make things go away,” you grumbled, unconsciously leaning your weight against his arm. You watched his hand grasping yours, interweaving your fingers. The roughness of his palm was biting to your skin. Silently, you smiled faintly. You always loved how reassuring you felt with your hands in his.

A tiny gesture that probably meant the world to you right now.

“No,” Kagami agreed, “but you get an opportunity to gather back your strength. It’s like timeouts. You rest. You drink. You listen to motivational speeches, or some crud like that. Then once you get back into the court, you get your second wind.”

A light chuckle slipped past your lips. “Trust Kagami-kun to find a way to insert some basketball in any conversation.”

“Hey, that–that wasn’t my intention!” he barked, earning another round of laughter from you. “I’m just trying to—to explain, or, whatever! You get my point, right?”

“Yes,” you replied in between graceless snorts. “Yes, I do, my MVP.”

You blinked innocently at the growing blush on his cheeks as he pried his eyes from you. Muttering lowly under his breath about ‘obnoxious girlfriend’ and ‘think she’s so cute’, Kagami stared down at his feet.

You observed him for a while, before saying, “I’m not going to lie. I still feel like shit right now. But there’s a little sense of ease here, and maybe, that’s enough to get me through the day.”

With a still flushed face, Kagami returned his gaze to your grateful smile. He considered you for a few seconds before relenting with a sharp exhale.

“What time are you going home?” he asked.

“Around the same time as usual,” you replied.

“Alright.”

“I’ll be fine now,” you said as you rose back to your feet.

“You sure?” he asked dubiously, concern oozing from his words. “I can stay here and wait for you to finish.”

“Yes, trust me. I promise that if something happens, I’ll call you at once.”

“If you say so,” he said, still tad unconvinced.

You looked at him again. You tried to memorize the small frown that pulled his lips, his knitted brows, and the manner in which his eyes glimmer with unveiled devotion. You drank in his tense figure, his forlorn frown—all expressions of his feelings for you.

You meant something to him, and you guessed even that alone was a flicker bright enough to bring life to your fading embers.

Later, you came home, drained and sleepy, but surprisingly okay. You had expected to see your place untidy like how you had left it this morning as you had rushed to work.

Blinking, you wondered if you had cleaned up after all. The laundry had been taken care of. The unwashed dishes were in the cupboard. Then, the smell hits you.

Realizing what happened, you tiptoed your way to your kitchen and confirmed your suspicion. Kagami's broad back met you. He expertly flipped the pan before stirring, the sound of metal clanking against metal resonating in your ear. The mouthwatering smell wafted around the room. You took a deep inhale as you clumsily clambered towards him.

You wrapped your arms around his midsection, the sudden and unannounced gesture making him jerk. He relaxed upon registering your presence, a contented sigh escaping his mouth. You poked your head from under his arm to check the food.

“Yakisoba?” you beamed, your smile stretching from ear to ear. You tightened your arms around him.

He splashed some water in the pan, the sound of loud sizzling muffling his next words a bit. “Are you feeling better?"

You didn't immediately reply, your breathing becoming slightly jagged and your body bristling. He could imagine the emotions storming your mind. After a few moments of silence, his gaze fell on the back of your head.

“Are you hungry?”

A smile replaced your pout as he lowered the heat. “Very. Especially after seeing the sumptuous meal Chef Taiga made for me.”

Kagami made a low scoff and shook his head as he gently readjusted your positions so you could bury your face into his chest. You snuggled closer, his masculine scent, intermixed with the smell of freshly cooked meal flooding your senses. When you pulled away, you couldn't help but laugh at him.

“What's so funny?” he demanded, looking down at you under his nose.

You sliver your finger to snap the garter of the pink apron around his frame. “Didn't think this would look better on you than on me.”

He sneered at you, perhaps in an attempt to look intimidating. Unfortunately for him, he only succeeded in looking constipated. “Shut up.”

You reached out to his face and pulled him down to press your forehead against his. The warmth of his skin ironically sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m home, Kagami-kun.”

Your voice was a mere whisper. You knew, however, that it resounded loud and clear to him, if the way he reached back to you wasn't proof enough.

He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek, a message so simple yet so clear.

“Welcome home.”

[cdragons]

Our Love is Eternal-Chapter 2 

Previous Chapter Pairing(s): Ikaris x fem!Elemental!Reader; Sersi x Dane Whitman Word Count: 5.0k words Chapter Summary: Ikaris continues to reminisce of the love you two shared while Sersi is about to meet an old friend Warning: slight angst, overload of fluff, Sersi mentally cursing, past natural violence, mention of abusive childhood, past violence Author's Note: Once again, a special thank you to the one and only @valeskafics for kindly agreeing to being my beta despite her insanely busy schedule! I could not have continued this fic (or any of my fics) without your help! Also thank you to everyone who decided to keep reading my works, I cannot tell you enough how grateful I am for all the likes and reblogs! I sincerely apologize for how long this chapter took, it is shorter than the last one. I'm trying to see if making my chapters shorter, I can post more frequently. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Be kind and like, reblog, and/or comment if you want me to continue!

“Ikaris…Ikaris…” 

It’s you. You were calling out to him. 

Ikaris reaches out to hold you, to press your frame against his for a single moment of bliss to fight the ocean of misery that had been his life since you left him. He feels your body shaking, and he looks down to see tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Ikaris, I love you.” You swore to him. 

Why are you crying? 

“I love you so much.” 

Do you? 

“I’m sorry; I’m so, so sorry.” 

Then stay – please just stay. 

“Please, I’m begging you. Just forget me.” 

My cruel darling, how could you ask such a thing from me? How could you even think of mocking my pain with such an impossible favor? 

“Forget our vow, just be free of me.” 

If forgetting you is freedom, then let me be damned by your haunting. 

And then he woke up, and once more you were gone. 

Opening his eyes only to see that the sun had not risen yet, Ikaris stretched his tired muscles before rubbing his face to loudly groan at the idea of going through another tedious day of pretending to be human. Looking at the clock on his left bedside, he sees that it was only 4:42 am. Despite not needing to meet Sersi until at least 10, he knew that there was little point in attempting to sleep again. Instead, he decided to take a quick run to hopefully get his mind off you. He would have flown, but he felt the need to purposely limit himself to distract himself. Quickly getting dressed in a navy-blue cotton compression tee with black running shorts, he decided to make a route that would start at his building in Hammersmith to around Hyde Park’s perimeter, before returning. Putting a dark-grey hoodie, he quickly put in his ear buds before listening to one of the playlists Sersi made for him when she dragged him to buy a new phone after learning he only carried a flip phone. 

Being an Eternal – especially one that can literally fly – there was little point in exercising, as they cannot age, get sick, or physically change. But Ikaris found that it took a tremendous amount of both mental and physical concentration in limiting his physical capabilities to that of an average human male. He learned this when you made fun of his being unable to shoot an arrow from a bow like a human during one of your earlier outings together. 

He was grateful that the sun hadn’t risen yet, otherwise he certainly would have gotten some unwanted stares from civilians. While he was running, he tried to keep his head from glancing around the world around him – but it was futile. All he could see was the changes made to the city since its founding. What was once a tiny settlement from the Roman Empire expanded to the bustling metropolis now. By the time his run is over, the sun is rising, his playlist has ended, and he is ripping off his clothes to wash away all the sweat on his body to prepare for the day. He doesn’t bother to wait for the water to heat up before letting it pour against his skin. As the water slowly starts to warm up, he closes his eyes and lets his mind drift off to the entirety of his life. 

Ikaris remembered every moment of his seven-thousand-year lifespan on Earth. He remembered everything from the moment he awoke on the Domo, to the first time he spilled the blood of his first deviant, saving that young boy whose father was cruelly devoured by that same monstrosity. He couldn’t claim that he particularly enjoyed his existence, only that he knew he had a purpose to achieve, one bestowed upon him by Arishem. A purpose he intended to fulfill to the best of his abilities and expected the very same by his fellow Eternals. Although the mission had its obstacles, knowing that he was an integral component in carrying out Arishem’s plan for this planet was more than enough to him. According to Ajak, the Grand Celestial was very pleased by their progress and dedication in their faith towards him.  

Everything was going smoothly, until a sudden windstorm annihilated one of the settlements, they had been watching over for over a decade. Thankfully none of the humans were harmed, but the destruction was unsettling. Ajak assured both the humans and her children that the storm resulted from the Earth’s evolving climatology. But the storms continued, and the powerful gales were accompanied by heavy rain, followed by constant thunder and lightning. Even worse, the constant downpour of rain caused a rise in water levels, resulting in any settlement close to any water body to be completely flooded beyond repair. 

Ajak and Sersi had been completely beside themselves with panic for humanity’s tedious fragility, their tender and soft hearts breaking more and more with each loss of life.  

The kind and noble Makkari had fallen into bouts of depression in knowing that her extraordinary speed could only save so many; along with the fact that more links of humanity’s past were lost forever.  

Sprite was losing more of her spark and grew more aggravated as she could no longer use her illusions to lift their spirits, camouflaging herself into her surroundings to avoid any interaction.  

The ever so cheerful Kingo no longer flaunted their home, and only grew more withdrawn and taciturn.  

Thena only continued to train herself harder, growing more agitated by her unquenched thirst for battle, and her self-frustration at her inability to strike the cause of humans’ plight.  

Gilgamesh took it upon himself to be her sparring partner and emotional tether when her frustration grew too much.  

Phastos had nearly worked himself into a damn stupor in trying to figure out the cause of such calamity, only to discover that the natural disasters could not be considered “natural” at all.  

No, to classify the cause as “not natural” was a gross understatement. The chaos that erupted in the Domo in discovering that the abnormal wind patterns were from an all-powerful wind goddess referred to as Zephyr, “Mistress of the Winds.” However, it was not she who was the mastermind of all this destruction. No, that honor belongs solely to you…the younger sister of her most prized protégé who she adored to dote on.  

Despite what his other Eternals assumed of him; Ikaris was more than aware of his flaws. He knew that he could be at times overbearing and arrogant, that he can seem unkind and indifferent to humanity he had sworn to protect, that he at times had “tunnel vision” when it came to his mission and was uncompromising, and that he was too easily baited by his fellow eternal and rival Druig. But he could gladly accept all of his faults, if only so that he would be burdened by his greatest weakness, you.  

You, who pillaged the land with endless floods and harrowing winds, inflicting more damage upon the humans than any deviant. You, who plagued his mind since the very first time he laid eyes on you over six-thousand years ago on the shores of what is now referred to as the Mediterranean Sea. Ikaris remembered that time well, as he was sent with Ajak and Druig to not only formally announce their presence on Earth, but hopefully form a sort of partnership between them and the offenders. For Ajak to lower herself to ask for permission to meet with you was insulting to say the least, even Druig agreed with him on this matter.  

At first glance, Ikaris dismissed you as a spoiled goddess, drunk enough on her otherworldly power to delude her into thinking herself more important than his purpose to Arishem. How could he not, with your fine cerulean silk robes wrapped around your pliant body, further lavished in silver adornments and precious sea stones? It had not been until he looked into your eyes that he was taken back by their intensity and forced to reevaluate his original assessment. Those dazzling, glorious, beckoning (e/c) eyes that stared back at him with such blazing ferocity that he wondered if you were actually a fire demon disguised as a water goddess. 

The introductions were fairly straightforward; it was the matter of the “negotiations” that led to the problem. Ajak tried to explain that their mission as the “Eternals” was to protect humanity from the “Deviants” in order to aid them to prosper and evolve. She tried to explain how the flooding is a risk to their mission, and how their creator “Arishem” would bring dire consequences on those who intend to disrupt their assignment to the people of Earth.  

You then explained that you did actually care about the “surface walkers.” In your eyes, the moment they left the sea, you held no responsibility over them. What concerned you was the fact that since the “Eternals” arrived on Earth, the deviants had started to target those who relied on your protection. Not only that, but there have been multiple instances of territories being destroyed by strange energy beams. You and your brothers did not fight in a three-thousand-year war to banish your tyrant of a father and restore the sea’s delicate balance only for a band of pretty aliens in shiny tights to ruin it. Stating all of this, you demanded the head of the one who caused so much destruction in return for the flooding to cease. 

This is where the discussion got a bit…overzealous on both ends. As Ikaris admitted himself to be the one who could create the energy beams from his eyes – even giving you and your aunt a demonstration by destroying the impressive rock formation behind you into a million tiny pebbles. He then outright demanded that your childish temper tantrum cease, as you and your “people” were not more important than the orders from the Great Celestial Arishem. He told you of how as an Eternal, nothing was more important than the fulfillment of his grand design.  

This outraged you to no end, as you slammed the stone table as you quickly stood to meet your opponent’s gaze. You then countered Ikaris by stating that your family and kingdom had existed long before the surface walkers, let alone the Eternals. You went so far to blatantly called him a “puppet” to this Arishem character, for so willingly going along with his so called “grand design.” In your eyes, those who blindly followed a higher being were no different than pawns. And in your experience, pawns were the ones who were always the first to be sacrificed by the masters they followed. 

The two of you argued back and forth at one another for what seemed to be hours. Ajak and Lady Zephyr both appeared to be extremely nervous at the heated exchange; while Druig seemed more amused than nervous at the heated discussion. He didn’t want to voice his opinion, but he was intrigued by your honest skepticism. You were clearly someone who believed in proof through action and evidence as opposed to blind faith.  

Although, it wasn’t until you torpedoed sea water to Ikaris – no doubt resulting in a concussion and few dozen broken bones, added by you throwing your sandal to his battered face for good measure (leaving a clear red imprint of the shoe that would last for at least an hour) – that truly made you earn the mind controller’s respect. Ikaris would later flush in embarrassment every time Druig told this story to the team, describing in excessive detail how pathetic the Golden Son looked with his armor completely soaked, and how his body was ruined to the point he couldn’t even fly. 

However, in learning that your main concern remained in your people’s protection. Ajak suggested that you would aid the Eternals in preventing the deviants from consuming the humans, so long that they provide help to prevent the same from being done to your people as well. Along with that, Ikaris would be much more careful in making sure that his energy beams do not damage any of the ocean reefs.  

Despite knowing that this arrangement would be mutually beneficial to both parties, you still had to discuss it with your brothers before a final decision could be reached. However, you assured the Prime Eternal that you would immediately reach out to inform her when a final decision has been made and announce it in person. Ajak countered this by telling you that she would send both Druig and Ikaris as escorts as a symbol of good faith and respect between both families. Although he protested a great deal at the time, Ikaris knew that it was his duty as Ajak’s second-in-command to follow her orders. Looking back, he couldn’t help but feel very grateful for Ajak’s insistence of his company. If she had never done so, he would never have had the opportunity to get to know the beautiful complexity that was you. 

Since that meeting, he had to learn to tolerate your quips and pranks. He would be forced to make conversation with you in order to diminish the overwhelming awkward and silent tension. You would be forced to pretend that his company was welcome. He would learn about your complicated relationship with your mother, and the scars you carried from your father. You would apologize for calling him a puppet and admit that you were jealous of his ability to have faith in ideas and places and people he had no recollection of ever meeting before his mission on Earth. He would buy your first loaf of bread and smile fondly at how large your cheeks would get in how much you stuffed them. You would show him how to eat sea grapes raw and laugh at his bewildered reaction and gagging. He would see that beneath all the scars and sarcasm, was a girl who was robbed of any sense of security as a child. You would see that behind the stoicism and preaching, laid a soldier whose faith was his only constant in his role of an observer to constant change. 

In a way, you both were not so different from one another. You both were warriors with purpose forced upon them by higher beings with no choice in the matter. You both had to make sacrifices that painted yourselves as strong and hid away the cracks and broken pieces. But somehow, the broken parts of either of you made the most beautiful mosaic when put together. And that made all of the pain worth it. 

Ikaris was then brought out of his wistful melancholy at the realization that the warm water had turned icy on his skin. Immediately shutting off faucet, he stepped onto the rug and quickly dried himself before tossing his running clothes into the laundry hamper next to the bidet. He briskly sauntered off to his wardrobe and pulled out his typical daytime casual wear of a black crew neck t-shirt with black jeans and a dark peacoat with black leather Oxfords.  

Making an adequate breakfast of toast, eggs, and black coffee; he quickly ate as he watched the boats sail on the river from the view in his flat’s reception room. Glancing at his phone to note the time, he was shocked to find that he had less than fifteen minutes to get to the museum. Although his attendance was in no way expected and necessary today, he made a commitment to his friend and was determined to see it through. He swiftly washed his dishes and checked his home to make sure that nothing could burn, nor flood the apartment while he was away. Taking only his phone and his keys, he locked the door and exited his building. Greeting the daytime porter, Norman, who managed to expertly hail him a cab within seconds. As Ikaris handed Norman a generous tip for his service, he entered the cab before sinking into the seat as he looked at the river to his side. 

No matter how pretty the view might have been, no amount of picturesque sunlight could hide the heaps of grime and waste that laid on the bottom of the river floor. While London was never the most hygienic of cities, it has only worsened to an irreversible extent since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century. If Ikaris was grateful for only one thing since your disappearance, it was that you were absent from the horrors he is forced to witness every day. While you were never a fan of England, you and he shared many fond memories of Europe; the time you two spent in the early 3000 BC Scandinavia held an especially special place in his mind.  

You knew what snow was, and how it looked – your eldest brother’s domain was in the Artic Circle for Gods’ sake– but you had never been allowed to touch it, let alone play with it. And when you saw a small group of human children throwing snowballs at one another, you decided to make the biggest one you could make before chucking it directly to Ikaris’ face. Ikaris was so taken back by the assault, he barely registered what happened before you decided to throw another aimed at his solar plexus. Naturally, this led to a full-heated battle that lasted for the rest of the day. By the end of it, Ikaris couldn’t remember the last time he felt so young and laughed so hard. In fact, he couldn’t recall smiling so much before meeting you. But as the two of you laid on your backs, watching the stars and moon fill up the night sky, he heard you whisper something that he would never forget. 

“These lands must have magic inside its bones.” 

Confused, Ikaris wanted you to repeat yourself. But when he turned his head, there were no words. Because there you laid, soft smiles and flushed cheeks; but all he saw were your eyes. In that moment, there were more stars in your eyes than there were in the galaxy. Realizing you were expecting a response. Ikaris thought back to all the stories Sprite told to the humans at banquets and feasts. He would laugh at her made-up tales of magic and themselves as gods.  

But if someone like him can laugh and play like a human; if you were by his side laughing with soft smiles, flushed cheeks, and eyes filled with stars; if the two of you can lie on the snow-covered ground as time flies by; then maybe magic truly did exist beyond stories and ideas. 

“I think you’re right.” 

And he found that he meant it with all his heart. 

As Ikaris continued to reminisce about simpler times, he felt a soft mechanical buzzing. Knowing that it was most likely Sersi questioning him of his location, he reached into his pocket to silence the ring without even looking. Not even realizing that he was about to get everything he ever wanted for the last 600 years in the most unexpected way possible. 

NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM, LONDON – ABOUT 30 MINUTES EARLIER 

Since Ajak had split the team, and each member had decided to venture off in their own lives, Sersi was determined to continue to live amongst humans. She had seen millions killed by their own hand, but her love for humanity remained steadfast. As she continued to roam, she would live a life with a new role. Sometimes she was a wandering healer who could transform a rock into medicine; other times she would pretend to be a midwife, witnessing first-hand the wonders and joys of life and creation. In this time however, working as a museum scientist to one of the most prestigious institutions in the modern world was thrilling in a different way. She was able to meet so many people from all around the world, not including sharing her knowledge from her early life to the next generation of potential scholars. She may have been terrible with punctuality, but her natural ability to teach had saved her many close calls. However, she made sure to leave her shared flat with Sprite about 30 minutes earlier than usual to meet Dane and finally meet the mysterious historian this morning. But as she prepared herself, she slightly regretted that decision. 

Sersi couldn’t remember the last time she was so anxious to meet someone in a professional setting. She loved her job, and she was good at it too. Ever since her first day, she was always in her element. As she walked into her office, she was immediately relieved by the sight of a strong dark figure in a handsome white cover that was sitting on her papers.  

“One iced americano with 2 espresso shots and an avocado on toast for you my lady, from yours truly.”  

Oh, and Dane was there too! 

Sersi chuckled fondly at the sight of her boyfriend as he made a grand sweeping arm gesture to the takeaway feast before her eyes.  

“My hero,” she cooed as she held her hand over her chest as she pretended to swoon. “How did know?” 

“Well, considering how long we’ve been together,” he started, “I figured that the only way you were going to get here early enough to make a decent impression on our special guest was if you skipped your usual morning meal routine. So, I thought that some caffeine and overpriced toast would be enough to get you through the morning.”  

“Well, you thought correctly.” Sersi gave Dane a quick peck on the cheek before walking to her desk and setting her things down. “Isn’t this coffee shop really busy around this time?” 

���Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ve got an old schoolmate who works there as the chef. He made sure to set my order aside when I asked him last night.” 

“Oh no, was it any trouble?” No matter how sweet the gesture was, Sersi hated the idea of causing trouble for others, especially those she held close to her heart. 

“Nah,” Dane quickly reassured her, “I just owe him a pint or two when I next see him for drinks.”  

“Well, I’m very grateful for you and your friend.” She stated as she opened the takeaway box, only for her jaw to drop and her eyes to stare back at her human boyfriend. 

“You ate it?” The lovely eternal exclaimed in shock and betrayal, but Dane only shrugged while sucking a breath through his teeth. 

“Yeah,” he drawled out with his hands in his slacks’ pockets, “I didn’t actually expect you to show up early, and please hear me out before you get angry!” Putting his hands in front of him in an attempt to make peace, “I didn’t want it to go to waste, and I only really ate half of it.” As if pointing out that last bit would grant him any mercy. 

But seeing that he crossed a line, Dr. Dane Whitman made sure to save his ultimate weapon for guaranteed forgiveness.  

“Forgive me?” He begged, pouting slightly as he pulled out the most pitiful puppy-eyed expression he could manage. Fingers crossed behind his back in hopes that it would work. 

“Damn it,” thought Sersi, “he knows I can’t NOT forgive him when he does that.” Whatever defenses Sersi had were always knocked completely down whenever Dane pulled out that expression. It didn’t help that she found his pout incredibly adorable. She sighed in mock defeat. 

“Fine,” she conceded, “I suppose that I can forgive you this one time.” Walking over to her mortal lover as she wrapped her arms around his neck, she closed the distance until their lips were a breath apart.  

“But don’t ever eat my toast again.” Sersi stated with an expression too serious to be taken seriously. 

“Deal,” Dane nodded in mocking serious expression, the ends of his mouth lifting as Sersi leaned in for a kiss. It was almost pitiful how devastated she was when she pulled away to eat the rest of her feast. 

“By the way,” she stated after taking a large sip of her coffee to wash down the toast, “Isaac is coming to visit today. To see the historian visiting today.” 

“Since when was he interested in nautical folklore and oceanography?”  

It was a fair question to ask. Ikaris may have been an ancient immortal being that watched over humanity’s evolution, but Isaac Harris was a man with PhD’s in both Classical and Historical Archeology.  

“He just wants to make sure that our time and resources aren’t going to be wasted,” reassured Sersi, “that’s all. But I think he’s more curious to see if I can actually manage to come in before him in anything.” 

 “Well,” Dane chuckled, “good to know you beat him today at least. But seriously, how are you feeling today?”  

“Yeah!” Sersi cheerfully replied, “This wouldn’t be my first rodeo, and knowing that she is closer to our age will help smooth any awkward tension!” 

“At the very least, she’s closer to the age I put on my resume,” thought Sersi. 

“Good to know at least one of us is confident,” chided Dane to the beautiful Eternal. But his next words were very sincere, “it’s impossible to not adore you though.” 

Sersi did genuinely swoon that time. She was surprised that her knees managed to keep her steady. Luckily, the clock above her office’s entrance showed her that they were both dangerously close to being barely early in meeting their guest. 

“Well, we better head down now,” she softly stated as she walked toward the door with her incredible boyfriend’s hand locked with hers. “After all, first impressions and punctuality are the things that mean a great deal to us Brits.”  

Dane’s smile grew even larger at her terrible joke, “Most of us at least.” And he swore that his morning became ten times better at hearing her laugh on his own. 

After what seemed like an eternity of impatient walking in the familiar halls and corridors to finally reach the grand lobby, both Dr. Sersi and Dr. Dane Whitman hurried down the ornate staircase. To their shock and amazement, their mystery guest was already there, standing with their backs turned toward them and staring at the colossal skeleton hanging above her. Reaching the bottom, Sersi felt there was something strange about this person, almost…familiar. 

“Hello,” Dane called out, “I am so sorry for making you wait. Although, it’s a huge relief to know that someone of your caliber would find our institution’s Hope to be worthy of your attention. The full story is quite remarkable actually, see she-” 

“She was found in 1891, along the Irish coastline,” a hauntingly familiar voice interjected, “judging from the sheer size of the skeleton, I’d say that the fisherman must have gained a fortune by auctioning the corpse. I can’t imagine how long it must have taken the buyer to butcher the meat and boil down the blubber.”  

Sersi swore she stopped breathing. It couldn’t be…could it? 

It wasn’t until their guest paused to turn and faced the couple that Sersi felt her heart beating more rapidly by the second.  

Over 5000 years ago, Sersi met a young woman who came from the sea. The young woman was the product of two great beings, each containing powers that existed before time itself. She lived a hard life, but she grew strong. She learned to control the sea she came from, along with banishing a primordial evil. But with peace came solitude, and with solitude came loneliness. But she eventually found the Eternals, or rather they learned of her. An agreement was brokered between the two parties, and what was an alliance of necessity came a bond willingly forged of fond memories. But around 600 years ago, the young woman disappeared for unknown reasons, and was never seen again. 

Until now apparently. 

Sersi couldn’t believe her eyes. It was over 600 years ago in Mesoamerica. You had donned your battle armor and unsheathed the blade the finest sea smiths forged in honor of your first kill in the name of your eldest brother’s new empire. Sersi remembered how terrified Ikaris was in that battle; he could not remain by your side since the Deviants were scattered across the region, and you alone had to cover the coastline. It was a brutal battle that day. By the end, your pristine robes were shredded and whatever remained was drenched in tar-like blood. She could see new scars and bruises littered on the skin that peaked through the torn cloth. That steady stance that could only come from a seasoned warrior such as yourself was gone; in fact, you looked less like a warrior and more like a beggar. Your body had taken so much damage that you could only be healed by your second eldest brother. Sersi remembered being terrified of your well-being, but you reassured her that you would soon return. She wept for days after learning from Ajak that you could no longer return. 

And yet, here you were! You were right in front of her! Except that it seems you traded your warrior aesthetic for modern business casual. She took in the sight in front of her. You were smartly dressed in a double-breasted blazer with gold buttons over a striped cotton zip sweater, and light-wash straight leg jeans paired with a pair of flat-heeled light brown loafers. The familiar braids you styled daily were replaced with a sleeker, more modern style. She took in your figure, pitifully attempting to find any resemblance between the image of the woman before her and the memory of her friend who she thought was gone. The only thing that confirmed your identity to her was the lapis lazuli charm attached to a gold chain around your neck. 

“It matches his eyes.” You told her when showing her the gift Ikaris gave all those years ago. 

As if sensing that Sersi finally confirmed your identity for herself, you gave out a warm smile. 

“Hey Sersi,” you cheerfully stated, “it’s been a while huh?” You walked forward and wrapped your arms around her to give her a tight hug. 

Reciprocating your embrace, Sersi had only one thought going through her head as she warmly greeted you back. 

“You bitch.” 

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @chompchompluke, @asa-do-your-thing, @themeanestlittlewitch, @dorkybimbo, @peacheerries, @its-actually-minicika, @beananacake, @vikingqueen28, @aliceinwondwonderland, @spacetalbot

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Forty Six

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: ~4,200

Start from the beginning    Previous Chapter  Next Chapter  

Masterlist Read on AO3

“We got him!”

Josh’s voice crowed from the first floor, carrying all the way up to Alexei’s room. Eva looked up from where she was cleaning the skin around his IV. Alexei’s physician (Josh) had proclaimed that his patient no longer needed intravenous fluids and was well enough get them the regular way. As usual, Eva was tasked with execution.

Alexei drew in a breath and loosed a groan before running his hand over his face. He’d been especially testy with Josh over the last twenty four hours—and more than a little grumpy with Eva. Despite his apologies and claims that he was ‘fine’, Eva knew he wasn’t feeling well.

The scar on the side of his head was healing, but the fatigue never really went away. Alexei continued to nap, would doze off at intervals. When he had energy, he would walk the upstairs hallway until he was too tired to go on. Eva had learned to keep his cane at the ready, but not to offer it to him until he was barely standing on his feet. Otherwise, she risked being a target for his frustration.

Josh cleared the door with triumph on his face, “We got him. We got the bastard.”

Was his voice always this annoying?

Alexei sat up and swung his legs over the bed, “We got who?”

“Diego. We got him.”

Eva pretended to be focused on putting away the IV stand and securing the lines while she listened to Josh talk about how he found Diego. The idiot was shopping, right out in the open. Yes, at the little store a couple blocks from the factory. My guy says he’s probably scouting our route. Too fucking bad. I’ve got a pair of men on him, now.

She had to turn her head to hide the smirk from her face, thinking that Horacio definitely knew his target. And, his plan hadn’t changed. He was putting himself out there for Josh to find. And, with any luck, Horacio would follow Josh’s lead right back to Eva.

Her hand slipped down the length of the IV line, catching the needle. It would need to be put into the sharps container for safety. She carefully pulled it from the line and moved to the bathroom. As she held it above the container, an idea occurred to her.

Small. Thin. Metal.

She used a bit of alcohol to clean the needle and wrapped it in thick gauze and a little bit of medical bandage. On her return trip to the bedroom, Eva pushed the bundle into her pocket.

The phone rang.

Josh, even more excited, rushed to answer it.

Having schooled her expression, Eva turned to find Alexei testing his weight without his cane, “You think he’s actually found him?”

Alexei’s mouth turned down, “I would put money on it. The man he’s hired, Luis, is ex-military. And, fairly competent.” He paused while he circled the bed, “Diego isn’t likely to give him the slip.”

Eva watched him move across the room with a careful step, “Didn’t he do that, once, already?”

He shook his head, “No, that was Josh. Luis wasn’t on duty that night.”

“Ah.”

Josh returned to the room, his hands clasped in front of his chest, “Its all coming together. I’ve finally gotten it together.”

“What have you gotten together?” Alexei asked as he made the return trip to his bed.

“Him. I got him together,” Josh replied, all smiles. “Luis is bringing Diego to the warehouse.”

She tried not to flinch, but couldn’t hide the involuntary movement from Josh. He grinned at her, “Don’t worry. He’ll be too distracted to think about you.”

Grateful for his misunderstanding, Eva began to tidy the room. While she threw away the old saline bag and other accouterments, she listened to Josh talk about how he was going to put Diego in his place. Most of it was posturing, but Eva had no doubt about his intentions.

Josh was ready for murder. Or, more accurately, Alexei was ready. The man was owed for what he had to do for his cousin and it was time to pay up.

For several hours, Josh made preparations—preparations being the cultivation of the perfect outfit with matching cuff links. He carried piece after piece to Alexei’s room for approval until he was dressed smartly from head to shining leather toe. The entire performance was enough to make Eva sick.

Alexei, for his part, played along even though he’d chosen a very casual button up, jeans and sneakers. He sat primly on the end of the bed with his hands in his lap while Josh debated fabrics and prints. His recommendations were few and far between, letting Josh do most of the deciding. Superficially, he looked about as calm as he ever did. But, underneath that thin veneer, was a spark of excitement Eva hadn’t seen since she’d arrived at the house.

He was ready. Eager, even. And, a ready, eager Alexei was a deadly Alexei.

Eva, with nothing to change into, tried to drown out their conversation while resting the in the armchair. Her eyes were trained on the warehouse a few miles away, as if she could see Horacio being dragged kicking and screaming towards it.

He probably wouldn’t be kicking and screaming. Kicking, maybe. But, not screaming. Any threat Horacio made (and he would be making threats) would be uttered in a low, even tone that could not be misunderstood. The image of him leaning over a kneeling man in a glowing beam of sunlight flashed before her eyes. It was quickly followed by a golden gun pressed into sweat soaked skin.

Eva shivered.

“Alright,” Josh said as he returned to the room, “I think we’re ready, aren’t we?”

Alexei stood, “Yes.”

Josh ran his hands down a blue striped tie, pinky ring glinting, “Juan, pull the car around.” From his pocket, he produced a set of keys, “Everyone to the car.”

Instead of unlocking the cuff on her ankle, he reached for the other end. Eva’s heart sank as she watched him open the cuff and stand, tugging the chain like a leash. She swallowed down the anger in her chest, choosing instead to glare.

He rolled his eyes, “It’ll be better if you’re not in the way.”

She wanted to wipe that smile off his lips permanently. God, she wanted to shoot him right in his smug fucking face. She wanted the satisfaction of knowing he’d never smile again. Something kept her from it—kept her from reaching for the pistol in her bra. Eva couldn’t name it. Possibly a vast amount of caution. Possibly the knowledge that even an injured Alexei was still especially dangerous. Whatever it was, it left her following behind him with Alexei at her side all the way to the car.

Outside, the sun was starting to fall towards the horizon. It speared across the road, reflecting off the asphalt in hot waves that rose slowly from the pavement. Eva squinted against it, feeling adrenaline pump through her veins with every inch they got closer to the warehouse.

In the parking lot, there was only one car. A completely forgettable four dour sedan that no one would notice, except is was parked in the handicap spot.

As Juan pulled to a stop, Josh said, “I had the place cleared out. Thought you’d like some privacy.”

Alexei stared into the darkness beyond the loading dock, “Thank you. That’s very generous.”

Eva waited impatiently to be let out of the back of the car, dragging the chain the whole way. She frowned at Josh as he hustled around to catch the end of it, fingers holding the length tight.

“Wait here,” Josh directed Juan, “We’re going to be a while.”

They walked as a group into the warehouse, footsteps echoing in the empty room. The ambiance of the place was eerie—ominous, even. Not even the fans were blowing. Production in the building was completely shut down for Josh’s special event. Miguel was nowhere to be seen. Just large work tables, machines, and various tools.

And them.

Eva looked around, desperate to find Horacio and to see if he was alright. She was reasonably sure that he wouldn’t be too terribly hurt. Josh needed him conscious and capable of enduring whatever pain he was going to inflict.

Which reminded Eva of the very core of Josh’s plan.

She grit her teeth against it. No matter what Josh did, she wasn’t going to allow him to murder Horacio. It simply wouldn’t happen. If she had to kill every single person in the room, Eva was going to make sure Horacio survived. She was going to make sure their bond survived.

With a steadying breath, Eva let Josh drag her along until he reached a large machine with plastic rolls on either side. There, he secured the chain, leaving Eva to sit on the ground nearby. She could only bear the embarrassment with the knowledge that she was going to get free and raise hell.

A man emerged from the spare room. Even from a distance, Eva could smell him. He reeked of gunmetal and ash. His stride was confident. Head up. Shoulders back. This had to be Luis. Eva hated him, immediately.

He greeted Josh with a smile and the pair of them walked off towards the spare office. Alexei stayed back a moment, dropping down so that he was level with her, “When the time comes, it will be painful. You’ll hurt like you’ve never hurt before.” He put a hand on her shoulder, “You’re strong. You’ll make it.”

Eva nodded absently, her eyes on the open door of the spare office. She couldn’t hear or see anything, which left her feeling vaguely panicked. Alexei knelt a moment longer before pushing slowly to standing. He moved across the room with purpose, leaving Eva truly alone for the first time in days. She took this rare opportunity to pull the bundle of gauze from her pocket. After carefully unraveling it, she went to work.

She should have practiced.

Eva should have practiced every day until picking the lock felt as natural as slipping on a pair of heels. She tried to remember Horacio coaching her—go slow, its a feeling—all the while managing her fears about how Alexei would torture him to death. Her ears listened for screams. For the sound of pain.

An eternity (or, what was probably only minutes) later, the cuff pulled free. Eva stifled the cry of joy as she got to her feet and eased the gun from her bra. She used every ounce of skill in moving silently to sneak up to the spare office, listening intently.

Alexei was speaking roughly in Russian. Flesh hit flesh. A groan and the sound of something wet hitting concrete.

She peeked around the doorway, wincing at the way Horacio was being held down in a chair by Luis while Alexei punched him hard in the gut. Hands taped together in front of him, he had little in the way of blocking the punch and it knocked the air right out of his lungs. His eye was starting to swell and there was a cut above his brow, but he looked better than she expected. With three men standing around him, Horacio was holding his ground, looking Alexei in the eye and spitting insults at him in between blows.

Her eyes flicked around, looking for a tool box. A relieved breath left her lungs when she didn’t find one. Alexei, it seemed, was going to kill him with his bare hands. That gave her time.

The room was too small. One or all of them would be on her in half a second, before she could do anything that might give Horacio an advantage. She would need to draw them out, give them less of an opportunity to grab her. Eva turned her attention to the main floor of the warehouse, looking for a distraction—anything she could use to make noise.

On the wall was an emergency lever.

“Fire alarm,” Eva mouthed silently.

In a factory this size, there would be several fail safes to protect the building in case of a fire—especially with the kind of chemicals being stored in the far corner. She looked up, seeing the water systems criss-crossing the ceiling.

With a devious smile, she reached out and pulled the lever.

A sharp sound echoed off the walls and water poured from above. Eva gave herself room and waited. To her surprise, Horacio came stumbling out headlong. He caught himself on his bound hands, arms holding his weight on the ground. There, he took a few breaths before working to stand.

Luis followed, kicking him back to the ground.

Eva’s jaw clenched, but he held still, waiting for the others. This had to be timed perfectly. She couldn’t act a second too soon, or a second too late. Horacio’s life depended on it. They emerged soon enough. Josh glaring at the sprinklers. Alexei wiping bloody knuckled against his jeans. This was it. This was the moment. Eva had to do something, and quick.

Luis gave Horacio a driving kick to the ribs.

Target acquired. She flicked the safety off.

Lifting the pistol, Eva aimed for his knee and fired. The bullet whizzed through muscle and bone with a satisfying pop that had Luis dropping to the ground. He screamed in agony while all the attention in the room turned to her.

Josh rolled his eyes, “You hit the wrong guy, Eva!”

“No,” Alexei said while eyeing her carefully, “I think she hit exactly where she was aiming.”

Eva glanced at him with an apologetic, but firm, gaze. She’d made her decision about how this was going to go and there was no turning back now. If Alexei knew what was good for him, he would stay out of the fucking way.

From the open loading dock door, Juan came running. Eva shifted her aim, saying, “Go back to the car!”

Juan slowed to a stop and held up his hands. He glanced at Josh for direction, which infuriated Eva, “I will shoot you.”

Juan looked around the room and made a judgment call, “Claro, claro.”

With Luis still yelling in pain, Eva turned her attention back to Josh and Alexei, “We’re done, you hear? Done.”

Josh, suit soaking, sneered, “I’ll break your legs before I let you walk out of here.”

Eva’s lip curled, “That’s fine. I can crawl.”

His sneer deepened, “You don’t have the guts.”

“Tell that to Dr. Martin.”

From somewhere nearby, Alexei chuckled, “I wondered about that.”

Horacio, having gotten to his feet and ripped through the duct tape with his teeth, moved towards her, “Who taught you to handle a gun?”

“My daddy,” she replied, keeping her eyes on Josh and Alexei.

Horacio hummed in appreciation before reaching a hand towards her, “Give me the gun. There’s a phone in the office. You can call Javier.”

In the space of a second, as Eva was handing Horacio the weapon, Alexei made his move. He ducked down and caught her underneath the forearm, knocking the gun from her hands. Then, he pivoted and hit Horacio with a hook.

Eva backed away to give Horacio room to fight only to have Josh grab her by the hair and drag her to the ground. She rolled and got her feet beneath her, hands pushing against his fingers to loosen his grip. A closed fist hit her in the stomach, forcing acid up into the back of her throat.

She screamed, feeling strands rip free as she got his hands out of her hair. Josh threw another punch, missing her by inches. Eva kept putting space between them, kept scrambling to find another weapon. Her feet slipped in the gathering water and big drops clouded her vision. She bumped into a work table and started throwing whatever she could get her hands on.

A wrench. A hammer. A couple glass beakers. Anything within arm’s reach.

Josh dodged the wrench, blocked the hammer, and swore loudly when glass shattered at his feet. He kept coming, kept working to close the distance between them until there was nothing left for her to throw. Angry and fearful, Eva scooted around the table and backed up towards the rolling machine.

Metal flashed.

Eva was suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun. Again.

“Stop throwing things.”

“Stop trying to kill me,” she shot back, knowing she sounded like a total brat.

Josh gripped the gun in both hands, “I’m only trying to kill you because you turned on me. You’re supposed to be my wife!”

Eyes flicking around, she spotted a container with an exploding bomb pictogram on the side. With no other course of action, Eva grabbed the container and held it in front of her, “Maybe I wouldn’t have turned on you if you hadn’t beat the shit out of me for seven fucking years.”

“Oh, look at this,” Josh sneered, “Birdie is making scene. How fucking like you.”

“You wanted to see a scene, Joshie,” she sneered right back, “Shoot me. Fucking shoot me.” She held up the container, “See how much of a scene this will make.”

Josh, with all his intelligence, correctly read the label and Eva saw him falter. Good. He wasn’t so angry that he was going to make a stupid decision. His jaw clenched and he half-turned to aim at where Horacio and Alexei were grappling with one another. Eva felt an alien horror come over as he took aim, “Put it down, Eva.”

When she hesitated, he fired. Thank God for the water and Josh’s shitty aim because he ended out hitting Luis, who was leaning against a table for support. The bullet struck his shoulder, jerking him backwards onto the floor.

Josh looked at her again, “Step away from it.”

She did.

“Further.”

She did.

“More.”

She did.

Josh’s eyes narrowed, “We’re going to have a lot to talk about when this is done.”

Eva stared at him, feeling the weight of his words and knowing that there would be no talking. Very soon, one of them would be dead. She just had to figure out how to make that person not her.

A flash of red caught her attention.

Greedy hands pulled the fire extinguisher from the wall and swung it wildly.

Eva hit her mark.

Josh gave a sharp yell as his hands reached up to cover his face. He stumbled a bit, tripping over the chain and tumbling to the ground where he rolled side to side. The gun slid through a pool of water out of his reach. She was tempted to grab for it, but she didn’t want Josh getting up again.

Blood poured from what had to be a broken nose, seeping between his fingers and dripping over his cheeks. Seeing her opportunity, Eva lifted the fire extinguisher over her head and swung it down hard and fast. She had the satisfaction of hearing him sob in pain while his body curled in on itself to protect against the next hit. His legs tangled in the chain, dragging it loudly over rough concrete.

A gunshot.

Eva ducked, eyes flying towards the sound to see Horacio standing over Alexei. Water poured over him, soaking his clothes through and through. His stance was all hard angles and sharp lines, shoulders canted down towards the man lying below. A furious expression marred his bruised face and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. He had a gun in his hand and his finger on the trigger.

God, she loved that man.

From the floor, Josh’s scream was filled with grief. She looked down to find him reaching out towards Alexei, as if he could save his friend from all the way across the room. Eva stared at his hand, feeling an outpouring of fury well up when his wedding ring caught the light. An odd sense of betrayal rose up, a latent wonder at how he had never shown anywhere near the depth of emotion for her that he was showing for Alexei.

She dropped the fire extinguisher and grabbed the chain. Kneeling down, Eva wrapped it around his throat and looped it over the metal rod of the machine next to her. Then, with all her might, Eva pulled it tight.

Josh, too focused on Alexei, had no time to react. A gurgling sound left his throat as he worked to get air. His fingers dug into the chain and his feet kicked out.

Eva leaned weight into the chain, pulling harder.

“Eva!” Horacio yelled, barely catching her attention, “We need him alive.”

She snarled at him, fully prepared to follow through with killing this motherfucker. Every bruise, every cutting remark, every humiliating moment in her marriage to Josh flashed in her memory, fueling an already raging fire.

Horacio saw Eva in that moment, saw her intent. He moved closer, hands up in front of him, “I know. I know, Amorcita. He’s going to pay for it—for everything. I promise.” He drew a breath, “But, we need him alive to pay for it.”

God damn it, he was fucking right.

Tears dropping from her eyes, Eva let go of the chain.

Josh gasped a humongous, ugly breath that made Eva want to choke him all over again. She settled for finding the end of the chain and slamming the cuff around his ankle. That would hold him until the authorities arrived.

On shaky legs, Eva stood. Wet and exhausted, she went to Horacio and let him fold her in his arms. Overwhelmed, she began to cry. A multitude of feelings leaked from her body, replaced by cool relief.

The sprinklers cut off.

Eva blinked rapidly and sniffed, wiping her face, “We should make that call.”

Horacio nodded, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“I should have known,” Josh muttered, “I should have listened to my mother. She was always right about you.”

Horacio pulled back, casting Josh a baleful look, “Go make the call. I’ll handle him. You remember the number?”

She nodded, then went to do what needed to be done. Javier answered on the first ring, as if he’d been waiting by the phone. Eva explained where they were, gave an extremely brief summary of what happened, and hung up.

ETA, ten minutes.

She left the office, catching sight of Horacio kneeling next to a sullen Josh. He was saying something too low for her to hear, but his face was deadly serious. She watched him talk, watched how Josh’s sullen expression grew steadily more furious—and then, surprisingly, frightened. She could almost see him trembling where he sat.

Good.

Her eyes fell to Alexei. He was lying on his back, a limp hand covering the wound that killed him. The bullet hit him in the neck, no doubt severing an artery. Blood pooled beneath his body, watered down and vaguely pink.

Horacio approached, “Are you alright?”

She didn’t really know that answer to that question. Too much had happened. Eva gestured towards Alexei, “He survived a bullet to the brain...I didn’t think anything could kill him.”

Horacio looked at the body, “I made sure to check. He’s dead.”

Eva stared, unblinking, “He wasn’t...good. He wasn’t a good man. And, he wasn’t good to me.”

“Cosechas lo que siembras,” he murmured lowly.

She shook her head, “I feel… I don’t know what I feel right now.”

A hand touched her shoulder, “Let’s just get this finished. You can think about it later.”

‘Later’ took almost a week.

They were sitting on the tarmac, waiting for the plane to take off. Eva was sipping a too sweet drink filled to the absolute top with alcohol while Horacio filled out some leftover paperwork. There was absolutely nothing wrong.

Except, there was.

Suddenly, Eva couldn’t breathe. Hot tears filled her eyes and her vision narrowed to a pinpoint. She covered her face, sucking in short breaths that didn’t feel like they got her any air.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm, solid chest. Eva buried her face into his shirt, uncaring that she was crying all over him. He held her for a long time, all the way through take off and into the flight. A steady support while she was falling apart.

And she was falling apart. Every emotion possible cracked through her all at the same time, leaving her drained and fragile. She could hardly believe that it was over.

Alexei was dead.

Josh was in custody—broken nose, and all. According to Horacio, he was too much of a flight risk to make bail. He would never see freedom again. She had Javier’s word on that.

Myra, too, was in custody. There was a picture of her being led out of the house Josh built on the front page of the newspaper. Even in handcuffs, she held her head high.

Everything was so...neatly tied up that it didn’t seem real.

But, it was.

It was real.

She was flying with Horacio to Colombia. They were going to get back to their lives. There was nothing and no one who would come after them. Nothing and no one was going to try to stop them.

Her tears turned to a strange, hysterical laughter that was muffled against Horacio’s chest. He pulled back to look at her quizzically, and Eva didn’t know how she was going to explain it. She just didn’t have the words.

And so, she said, “I love you.”

Horacio smiled at her, as if he’d known all along, “Good. I love you, Eva.”

[ginnsbaker]

Im backkkk i was so pleasantly surprised to see a new chapter its the best thing to wake up to. You already know this is gonna be long so apologies in advance and i’ll try keep it short (I probably won’t succeed)

Wanda’s therapy. Just wow. The way you wrote it felt like i was having a therapy session (but like a genuinely good one cos ive had 6 therapist who weren’t good and most of them took notes and I love how you specifically mentioned that). I also think the way wanda has changed in just a few chapters has shown so much maturity and personal growth I mentioned it after the last chapter but it shows here as well. I think she’s getting better at making peace with her decisions and becoming more comfortable with herself. I like how the therapist reassured her that one night doesn’t negate all her progress it’s something i wish mine told me but its very true and its important otherwise you end up in a vicious cycle. To sum that up i love her i love her growth and the way you’ve written her is just perfect.

When i read these quotes and sometimes song lyrics pop into my head a lot and two came to me through this part i may have quoted these before so sorry if i have 💀. The first goes “if you see yourself in the correct way you are all as much extraordinary phenomenon of nature as trees, clouds, the patterns in running water the flickering of fires, the arrangement of the stars and the form of the galaxy. You are all just like that and there is nothing wrong with you at all”. I think it sums up wanda quite well because if you really consider it we are extraordinary we are made from stars with features so unique to us like how no one has the same fingerprints and things like that really are crazy things caused by nature that are beautiful and amazing and if you see yourself in that way that imperfections aren’t something to be frowned upon that past decisions are learning experiences then it okay and you’re just fine. The other one basically says you should regard yourself as a cloud because no one looks at a cloud and says its the wrong shape or anything and by doing so you develop a new level of self confidence which i think is something wanda needs and thankfully is working towards.

Next Agatha. I adore her. She’s protective of wanda and really giving it to reader and im here for it. On one hand im glad she didn’t say what happened cos that would be betraying wanda but im so ready for reader to find out and shit to hit the fan. I just loved the conversation her sass and cryptic comments she was basically toying with reader and it was perfect chefs kiss nothing more to say.

Reader and wandas conversation I actually think wanda handled this better than reader did just in the sense if you were an outsider looking in on the conversation wanda seemed more put together than reader did which is a shift from before when wanda seemed like the lost puppy in conversation. Speaking of puppy i hope sparkys okay i love dogs and if anything happens to him it will be the saddest thing in the entire serious minus wandas overdose. Wanda reassuring reader about sparky was adorable

Im having to take breaks while writing this cos im in a waiting lobby for an appointment 💀

Finally yelena reader and kate. My first thought is reader’s reaction is totally out of proportion they slept together sure but its in the past and yelena clearly has no interest in kate anymore id understand if they were really close with a flirty relationship and there were feelings involved for both parties but its not and yelena has stayed with reader even when she arguably shouldn’t so there is nothing to worry about, but i do get the fact that reader has been cheated on before so that worry is there. Correct me if im wrong but i think reader is more upset yelena didnt tell her more than it happened, but in all honesty I don’t think they’ve really talked about their past in that way not to mention reader was sleeping with wanda so im not sure why they’re so mad. And to ruin yelenas night is a bit shitty not gonna lie. I genuinely don’t think kate meant to create a problem but as a proud member of team wanda i kinda like it 😂. Also thank you for having reader realise they don’t know yelena that well. I touched on it after the last chapter that both of them had changed since college and i said i felt yelena was more in love with who reader was then and the idea of them than who they are now and the fact they got away from her then. I think this chapter shows its also true for reader, its easy for them to fall into a relationship with yelena cos of the past but they don’t really know each other anymore. It just seems like they’re settling both of them too lost in thoughts of what could’ve been and its not right for either of them.

I still think reader needs therapy but i think that goes without saying now 😂

And i adore wanda #teamwanda

-🧃

I'm gonna have to bullet point my replies lol

I'm glad my research paid off. The detail though about therapist just taking notes while you're talking.. that's a personal observation for me. I think it's quite rude. I think a good therapist's priority is to listen to you. I hope more and more will be just attentive, cause I think at the end of the day, we just want to feel like someone's really listening to how we feel.

i'm gonna bookmark just the whole thing about being made of stars. you should consider giving writing a try if you haven't :) and im on my way to googling those lyrics right now

Agatha-i wrote her to be thoroughly loyal to Wanda cause she needs that

Sparky will be okay and I swear I will never kill an animal in any of my fics :)

Correct me if im wrong but i think reader is more upset yelena didnt tell her more than it happened - Yup, you got that right.

genuinely don’t think kate meant to create a problem - correct once again. she's just clumsy and awkward. kinda like the kate bishop we know from Hawkeye

Also thank you for having reader realise they don’t know yelena that well - which is also a basis for her reaction when she found out about kate and yelena. and it's going to be explored more in the next chapter

Your insights are gold as always. I find myself nodding a lot to a lot of your observations. I'm glad that you always catch the little details i subtly include in the narrative. Well done.

Oh, Wanda. (yeah i adore her too)

thank you for reading the latest chapter and sharing your thoughts. love love love hearing from you as always

[thebadgerclan]

Rags To Riches: Chapter 1

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Chapter Summary: Caught by the Queen...

Your life was fairly simple: rise at dawn, light the fires in the grates, tidy whichever rooms you were assigned to that day, answer the summons of council members and on occasion, King Nikolai, serve dinner, clean again, before retiring for the evening.  Or, your life had been simple, before you caught the King’s eye.  If you were asked to pinpoint when it had happened, you wouldn’t be able to do so; it had been a gradual thing, beginning as a compliment on the speed of your service, turning to a friendship, and now…you didn’t quite have the words.

You hesitated to call yourself King Nikolai’s mistress.  Mistresses were proper ladies, born of nobility, while you were a common maid.  But when summoned, you warmed his bed, and wasn’t that exactly what a mistress was?  But you were more than that.  When Nikolai needed to vent about his idiotic advisor, you were there to listen; when he was excited about a new book, you were more than happy to read it along with him; and when he’d had a long day and simply wanted to cuddle, you curled yourself in his arms.  You loved him, plain and simple, and while he hadn’t said those three little words, you knew that Nikolai loved you too.

He showed you in many ways that he loved you: a flower on your bed, a parcel of your favorite sweets in the broom closet you frequented, sweet, lingering kisses whenever he could.  Your fellow maids knew about your relationship, and they did not like it.  Bludnitsa, they called you.  Harlot.  You heard the whispers, the snide remarks, the hateful words, but you tried not to let them bother you.  Was being hated by your coworkers truly so bad when you had the heart of the King?

You’d been reassigned to clean King Nikolai’s rooms daily, not that he was a particularly untidy person.  The true purpose of your new assignment was to afford you a look at the model ship on the mantle.  It was a replica of the Volkvolny, you’d been told, and to anyone else, its position meant little.  But to you, it indicated whether the King wished to see you that evening.  If the mast of the ship faced the window, you were to go to his rooms when you were done with work, if it faced the door, Nikolai was otherwise occupied.

So when you entered the King’s chambers to see the mast of the ship pointing towards the window, you smiled the whole time you worked.  As you exited the room, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a broad chest.  There was only one person in all of Ravka who would dare to do that, and you giggled as kisses were pressed to your face.  “Nikolai!” you said, and the King hummed, turning you in his arms and pressing his lips to yours.

“My darling,” he whispered, and you relaxed fully in his arms.  “I just couldn’t wait until tonight to see you.”  You smiled against his lips, resting your hands on his chest.  You lost yourself in Nikolai’s kiss, so consumed by him that you didn’t hear the swift clicking of heeled shoes approaching down the corridor.  Queen Isabella Lantsov Kir-Taban, Daughter of Heaven, the third-born daughter of Keyen Kir-Taban, was always composed.  She never showed surprise, anger, or sadness as more than a slightly raised brow.  It was how she was raised, groomed to be a King’s wife, never a Queen in her own right.

So when she found her husband with another woman in her arms, she merely raised a brow.  She was not angry to see Nikolai had a mistress, not in the slightest.  Theirs was not a love match but a political arrangement, meant to solidify the peace treaty between Ravka and the Shu-Han.  What she was angry about was that it was a maid, and out in the open.  Queen Isabella cleared her throat when she came to stop before her husband.

You opened your eyes, and upon seeing the Queen, you tore yourself from Nikolai’s embrace, dropping into a deep curtsey.  “Moya tsaritsa,” you said, remaining in the curtsey until addressed.  “My apologies, I did not see you.”  Isabella laughed softly.  “Clearly not.  Nikolai, might I have a word?”  “Of course,” he replied, laying a hand on your shoulder.  “I’ll see you later, milaya.”  He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, and with another curtsey, you scurried off.  

At his wife’s insistence, Nikolai entered his chambers, sitting on one of the velvet sofas. Isabella didn’t sit, rather, she paced before the fireplace.  “If you’re going to carry on with this girl,” she said.  “Give her an official court position or keep it behind closed doors.  We have an image to uphold.” Nikolai sighed, pinching his brow.  “We do stay behind closed doors.  Well, that was the exception, I got a bit carried away.”  He was smirking, and Isabella pursed her lips.

“People are talking, Nikolai.  Among the servants, among the staff.  This does not reflect well on the monarchy.”  The King shook his head.  “Y/N might not want a court position,” he argued.  “She seems happy as a maid.”  “Well, either she becomes a member of the court, or you can no longer see her.  I think I know what choice she’ll make given those options.”  Nikolai considered; he loved you, and you loved him.  If there was a way for you to be with him, he had a feeling you’d take it.

“Fine.  I’ll draw up the order and discuss it with her.”  The Queen nodded, but Nikolai continued.  “You’re entitled to a lover, Isabella.  There’s no reason you should be alone.”  Isabella smirked.  “I know.  But you don’t see him ligering, do you?”  Nikolai’s brow rose; he had no idea that Isabella had a lover, not that it was any of his business.  She turned on her heel and left, leaving the King with his thoughts.

It was absurd that it was somehow acceptable for the King to sleep with a lady of the court but not a maid, especially when everyone knew that the King and Queen were not in love.  Yes, he knew that images needed to be upheld, but why did the people care so much about who shared his bed?  But they did, so Nikolai would act.  The title hadn’t been used since his father had a mistress, but it remained the designated title for the King’s mistress.

On an official piece of paper, stamped with the double-eagle, Nikolai wrote his decree.  He left off his signature, however, as well as the royal seal, in case you didn’t want to be titled.  By order of His Most Royal Majesty, King Nikolai Lantsov, Miss Y/N L/N shall from this day forth be known as Lady Y/N L/N, Duchess of Os Alta, and afforded all rights and privileges associated.

[niobe-loreley]

Heaven Is In A Shortcake {iv}

midnight snack, anyone?

(see author's notes far below)

disclaimer: pictures are NOT MINE, but the edited version of it is- mainly for the fic. still, credits to the rightful owners and to canva + weheartit. addtionally, i am not a subic/zambales native so my apologies for any wrong locations, descriptions, or languages.

Six x F!Reader / Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader

warnings: moderate swear words. slow burn. fluff. comedy. trust issues. culture shock. check word count.

CHAPTER SELECTION is in the✨Masterlist✨ Chapter 3 - previous chapter, check the link in the masterlist Chapter 4 - this is it [next chapter link will be posted below for suspense & convenience hehe]

words: 5.2k (N/N) = nickname *Kiara = Claire *Kurt = Court *cover names / reader doesn't know (except you do know #wreckthe4thwall)

⚜🍰⚜🍰⚜🍰⚜

“Binabasa mo pa rin ‘yan?” You’re still reading that?

You look up from reading Aurora Rising. “Um, what you sayyy?” you intone, “This is my 2nd time.”

Muro is shocked.

“Yeah, 12 hours lang sa’kin ito.” Yeah, this is just 12 hours for me.

Muro is aghast.

“Wala pa kase book 2 at 3 sa NBS. Baka umorder na lang ako online.” you shrug, continuing to read.

There’s still no book 2 and 3 at NBS. Maybe I’ll just order online.

“Hold up, that’s like a thick-ass book. Goblet of Fire kind of thick— or thicker!” Muro exclaims, “Like Mindy’s ass and thighs! And you’re telling me that you can read it in 12 hours?”

“Less than 12 hours if I don’t have anything to do.”

“Halimaw ka.” You’re a monster.

You beam. “Thanks! And you’re a pervert!”

You purchased this book before you bought the baking supplies last week. But you only got to read it on the weekend. You’ve only reached the middle of the story since you had a full shift on Saturday, that’s why Muro thought you hadn't finished reading it.

Today is a slow Friday, unlike last week, though the afternoon was jam-packed. The first customers for this evening are still the latest, they just left and there hasn’t been new ones for 15 minutes now. You wait for another 15 minutes before you take one of the extensive booths and sprawl there while reading. You’re the fan-favorite worker in this cafe, and dare say, the most hard-working; you can do whatever you like unless the boss says otherwise.

“Kyaaaaaaa!” you instinctively let out a giddy, highschool girl scream. Sitting up, you plunge your face in the book and feel the warmth of your skin flowing into the pages. You retract yourself and flip one page back. “Wait, wait— WAIT! Rewind! I wanna read this part again for the first time!”

You stop laughing when you feel eyes on you. There’s Muro, facepalming behind the counter, but someone else is—

“What’cha reading there, (N/N)?” Claire grins as she stands with her dad by the door.

You look between her and Court, who is more baffled than amused at you. Your face heats again, this time due to embarrassment, and you compose yourself. Placing the bookmark in the book, you close it and stand up. “Miss Kiara, Mr. Kurt!” you exclaim, clearing your throat when you hear it become high-pitched. “Welcome once again to our humble cafe.”

“What’s with the miss?” Claire asks, snorting.

“Yeah, just Kurt is fine,” says Court.

You flush. “Sorry.”

You gesture for them to come in, grabbing your book, you’re about to head for the refill station when Claire calls you and asks to borrow the book. You hand it to her before you stride away to get some water and glasses. They take the booth near the counter again.

“Looks interesting,” Claire says, flipping from the back to the front of the book.

“It very is.” you nod as you pour their glasses with water.

She hands the book to you. “Can I borrow it when you finish?”

“I’ve already finished it. This is my 2nd re-read.”

“Really?!”

“Really!”

“How long did you read it for?”

“Twelve hours,” you simper.

Claire’s jaw drops.

You stifle a laugh. “By the way, I have TFIOS and Paper Towns in my locker. Would you like to have them now?”

“Yes, please!” she vigorously nods.

“Okay.. I’ll go prepare the brown rice first— unless you’re not having a rice meal?”

“I’ll be having a rice meal!”

You make eye contact with Court, breaking it immediately when you swivel away. He seems passive, though he usually is, but passive in a way he won’t bark at you for interacting with his daughter.

When you come back from the kitchen, Muro is already printing the receipt of their orders. Court watches as you hand Claire the two books and then scan the screen. You try to ignore his gaze, and you internally scold yourself that there's nothing to it.

"Okinawa milk tea with pearls?" you ask, regarding Claire.

Court raises his hand. "That's mine."

You're astounded.

"Don't look too shocked," he says as though you punched him.

"Hurt, dad?" Claire sneers at him.

"Wounded.."

She giggles and turns to you. "Mine's the chocomalt with cream cheese and nata de coco—" she glances at Muro, "Tama po ba iyon?"

"Yes, yes! Tama!" Muro gives her a double thumbs-up.

"He says it's healthier than tapioca pearls."

"The peace juice with chia seeds is much healthier," you frown at your co-worker.

"I wanted the chocomalt, (N/N)." says Claire.

"Fine.. as long as this is your first and last milk tea for this week."

"It is and will be."

"You'll order healthier drinks next time."

She salutes with a laugh. "Yes, ma'am!" and loops her arm around Court's as they walk back to their booth.

"Nanay ka, ghorl?" Muro whispers to you, working on the okinawa while you prepare the chocomalt.

You a mother, girl?

"Ano?" What?

He rolls his eyes. "Dude, you're overprotective of her."

I roll my eyes back at him. "Gago, malamang.. she has a heart condition." Idiot, of course..

Muro heaves a brow at you.

"It's not that she can't drink milk tea, but she can't always have them."

"Obviously— pero hindi iyon kung bakit kita tinitignan ng ganito."

But that's not why I'm looking at you like this.

"Then, what?" you snap.

"Seryoso?" he groans. Seriously?

"Ano ba kase 'yon?!" What is it?!

"Wala, bobo ka!" Nothing, you're a moron!

You swing your leg out, kicking him in the shin, and you evade his counterattack with a laugh. You notice Claire jogging from the game shelves after she picks up the Pop-Up Pirate box and UNO Flip. On the outside, she looks so healthy, but on the inside, her physiology has failed her. What a shitty cardiovascular system. Because of it, she looks so thin— she needs to be plump, like most girls her age!

You resist the urge to slap yourself with the blender. Is it bad to worry about a teenage girl whom you hardly know?

The funky, chill beat of Ilaw Sa Daan by IV Of Spades swarms the cafe when you and Muro finish up the drinks. Just then, Mindy pokes out of the kitchen and asks for either of your help. Muro volunteers immediately, disappearing through the swinging doors like a Looney Tune, which leaves you to serve the customers’ drinks.

“One okinawa milk tea with tapioca pearls,” you announce and place the drink near Court, who murmurs a thanks. You then reach over to deposit Claire’s drink further in the table since she’s currently trying to poke a toy sword through the tiny barrel. “And one chocomalt with cream cheese and nata de coco.”

“Thanks, (N/N)— woah!” Claire jumps when the pirate pops out of the barrel.

Your arm moves on its own. Just as the pirate soars to its highest peak, you catch it in your hand. But that’s not the reason why your eyes are wider than UFO saucers right now. It’s because Court made a grab for the miniature pirate as well, except he grabbed your hand instead.

Claire clamps a hand over her open mouth, suppressing a laugh, and looks from you to Court while the two of you stare at each other in astonishment.

The thin shadow from his cap is vanquished by the pendant lights overhead. Instinctively, you scan his face; this is the first time you’ve seen it clear as day. He always has his cap tucked down, and whenever he does look at you, he’s only peering and somehow keeping his face obscured. Despite the evidence of having a hard-lived life etched in his face, the surprise he feels from touching you softens him.

You follow the way his small brows are quirked up. You think of how his sharp nose looks as tough as he is. His eyes remind you of almonds, and you notice one of them is minimally crooked yet his gaze remains somewhat attractive. His neatly trimmed goatee tempts you to trace it as long as your fingers end up on his thin lips—

You recoil with shame tainted cheeks, but you can’t fully step away with your hand still clutched in his. You look at your hand, which appears smaller wrapped in his own, and you feel his callouses against your knuckles.

“Sorry,” he says and releases his grip, averting his gaze.

“It’s fine,” you stammer, gently putting the toy down on the table, you scratch behind your ear. “Looks like I have faster reflexes this week.”

Court looks back at you, and you can see the memory streaking through his eyes. “Yeah.. yeah, you beat me to it.” he replies with a chuckle.

“Slowpoke," you playfully say.

He scoffs. “Whatever you say, Clifford.”

You act as though your face temperature hasn’t gone from low heat to high.

“Clifford?” Claire asks puzzledly.

“The Big Red Dog.” you and Court chorus, exchanging looks.

She blinks in recognition. “Oh, the movie from last year? Haven’t watched it.”

“Yeah, it was also a cartoon from the early 2000s.” you add.

“Based on the books that started in 1963.” Court says in a chirping manner, as though it’s a competition now on who has the most knowledgeable references.

“Hey, (N/N), wanna play?” Claire begins plucking out the toy swords from the barrel.

You glance over to the counter. “Oh, I can’t.. Muro’s in the kitchen, so I’m holding the fort.”

“Why not hold the fort while playing?”

Court opens his mouth and immediately closes it. “Kiara,” he says with a pointed look.

“T’was just a suggestion, dad.” she retorts, drawling.

“I’ll be by the counter if you two need anything.” you chime in and shortly wave, strolling away.

‘Is it just me or is there something off with the way they call each other?’ you shake your head, ‘Nah..’

You recall their first-time at the cafe—

“Man, Six, you're such a downer!"

"Shush. You can try the other condiments some other time, Claire."

Are they hiding something? Or are you just in over your head?

You snap out of your thoughts when you catch the swinging doors in your peripheral vision. Muro is peeking out. He informs you that the food will be ready in less than ten minutes before he slips back in the kitchen. You peer over the counter, watching the father-daughter duo play a game of anxiety and chance, you decide to not interfere until you’re serving their dinner.

Boundaries— you mentally repeat the word like a mantra. Until your brain starts singing along with Disturbia thumping out the speakers.

⚜🍰⚜

“Thank you, come again!” you beam at the father-daughter duo.

Claire smiles. “You didn’t have to open the door for us.”

“It’s my pleasure, sweetie.” you reply, winking.

“Thanks.” Court gives a polite nod as he sidles past you.

“I’ll try to give these back next week!” Claire waves up the paper bag containing Paper Towns and TFIOS.

“Take your time!”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t spill anything on it.” says Court.

She frowns. “Hey!”

You laugh, partly stepping out of the door. “Safe driving!”

“Good night, (N/N)!”

“Good— huh? HOY!”

Court and Claire flinch at your abrupt bellow. Just as they stop to turn back to you, you’re already hurtling past them.

“BIKE KO ‘YAN, GAGO!” you shout at the guy, who just managed to bypass the lock of your bicycle. Your moped is in repair today, that’s why you opted for a bike— which is a gift from Mr. Nik’s, your landlord. “Tanginamo ka! Bumalik ka rito!”

That’s my bike, gago! — You fucking bitch! Get back here!

The guy is already on your bike, pedaling away like you’re about to shoot a javelin up his ass— because you look like you want to. Unfortunately, but lucky for him, you’re not a professional javelin thrower nor do you have anything similar to throw. 

However, you’re fortunate with above average physicality.

“Your ass is mine!” you huff like that White Chick, zooming up to five feet behind the thief. Your eyes have adjusted to his stature and you wonder if he’s a teen.

He glances over his shoulder, eyes bulging out in shock, and you hear him cussing as he faces forward. “Yeah, that’s right— puta talaga!” you shout, steadying your breathing.

The bicycle thief veers left off the curb and darts across the road. You look both ways before you hurtle after him. “Titigil ka o isosobsob ko yang mukha mo sa aspalto?!” you roar like a Filipino mother.

People around the street look at the commotion you’re making, especially when you take out your phone and turn on the flashlight. The street is a bit dark, incoming vehicles may not see you.

“Hoy, wag kayo mag-laro, gabi na.” someone drawls from the street. Hey, stop playing, it’s night already.

You whip to them with a glare. “Tatlumpu't tatlo na ako at ninakaw niya bike ko, bitch!” and you swear once more when the thief swerves in to Tappan Park

I’m 33 and he stole my bike, bitch!

You follow after him, pointing the flashlight to the ground to see any obstacles. The lampposts around the park are a bit dim, you’ll make sure to complain to the groundskeeper later.

Fire begins to infiltrate your lungs, and embers from the growing devastation float down to your legs, combusting your muscles. Your steady breathing feels rough and scorching whenever it blows out of your lips. It’s been a while since you ran with all your might. Sure, you’re exercising an hour per day and working six days a week, but it still hits differently when you abruptly take off.

Blame adrenaline.

“HOY!” you yell as the distance between you and the bike increases.

The thief pedals out of the park, but before he can continue on the road— a flash of shadow appears into the light, grabs the back of his clothes, and hauls him off the bike. He yelps as he’s thrown onto the curb, while his assailant stops the bike from falling and immediately boots the kickstand down.

“Kurt?” you puzzledly say as you rest to a stop near the thief.

Court slowly breathes out, turning around to face you, he pats the top of his head, where his cap still remains. “You all right?” he inquires, eyeing you up and down.

“How.. how did you get here?” you glance over your shoulder, “Where’s Kiara?”

“She’s— hey!” he takes one step and catches the thief by the arm.

“Bitiwan niyo ko!” the thief snarls, thrashing to escape.

You grip his other arm, pulling off his hood and beanie. With a nearby lamppost, you can clearly see the thief is, in fact, a girl. Maybe a year or two younger than Claire.

“Sabi nang bitiwan niyo ko!” she shouts.

You heavily flick her on the forehead, the loud thump echoes across the park, this makes Court wince while the girl is just stunned. “Tumahimik ka ngang bata ka! Bakit ka nagnanakaw ng bike ha?!” you shout, “Kung ganyan turo sa’yo ng mga magulang mo, ipa-DSWD na kaya kita!”

Be quiet, you brat! Why are you stealing a bike?! — If that’s what your parents are teaching you, I’ll take you to the DSWD myself!

“N-Y-O-B!”

“N-O-Y-B ‘yon, tanga!” It’s N-O-Y-B, stupid!

“Edi ikaw na magaling, gurang!” Eh, then you’re smart, oldie!

“HOY, TREINTA Y TRES PA LANG AKO!” HEY, I’M ONLY THIRTY-THREE!

With the little thief slowly pedaling on the bike, you and Court are walking at each of her sides. She finally remained docile after three escape-attempts, one of which she planned to bike faster, but you grab the rear carrier and wallop her upside the head.

“You must be shocked,” you remark, glancing at Court. He’s been quiet during the whole exchange, though you see him grimacing whenever you smack the girl.

He catches your gaze briefly and contemplates on a response as he turns ahead. “Well, if I’m being honest, I’m horrified…”

You feel a sharp pang of anxiety in your chest.

“...I’ll remind myself not to get on your bad side.”

You snort as the anxiety disperses when your heart skips a beat. "It's actually the same on my good side." you say, shrugging. "I tend to give tough love."

Court looks at you in bewilderment, and you regard him quizzically. It's as though you said a taboo and the townspeople will be after you.

"Well, in this case, it's tough compassion." you poke the girl's side.

She yelps, nearly losing balance, and throws you the stink-eye. You return a scowl and continuously tap your fist against your palm. Unimpressed, she scoffs at you, slightly pedaling forward but not far enough for you to give a warning.

"Kids today are shameless," you comment spittingly.

Court snorts as Claire swims up in his eyes. Earlier, he wanted to chase after you and the thief but didn’t want to risk leaving her alone. So she told him she’ll run if he won’t, and that she’ll report to the hospital of his negligence towards her health,

"Totally shameless," he nods with a stifled grin.

The three of you arrive back at the cafe. Muro, Mindy, and Claire are at a bench near the parking lot.

“Are you two okay?” Claire is the first to ask as she stands up.

“Yeah, we’re good.” says Court, glancing at you.

“Here’s your bike lock, (Y/N).” Mindy hands you the cable lock.

“Damn, I didn’t think it was a kid.” Muro sighs, holding up a bolt cutter, he regards the girl. “Sa’n mo nakuha ‘to?”

Where did you get this?

The girl slides down from the bike. “Sa pwet mo.” In your butt.

You stifle a laugh. “That’s new!”

The girl is baffled that you’re amused. You take the cable lock from Mindy and assess its damage. “Looks like I’ll buy another one, plus a wheel lock.” you pause to look at the girl, “Sagutin mo tanong niya o sasakalin kita gamit nito.”

Answer his question or I’ll strangle you with this.

“Kung ipapa-pulis mo ako, gawin mo na!” the girl shouts.

If you’ll take me to the police, just do it!

“Pareho rin itatanong nila.” They’ll ask you the same things.

“Edi ba’t ka pa nagtatanong?” Then why are you asking?

“Kase papakawalan kita depende sa sagot mo.” you proclaim, placing your hands on your waist. 

Because I’ll let you go depending on your answer.

The girl bristles. “‘Di ako naniniwala sa’yo.”

I don’t believe you.

You shrug. “Bahala ka. Mas mapapagalitan ka ng magulang mo kung sa pulis nanggaling.”

Your choice. Your parents will be more angry if this comes from the police.

The girl’s eyes widen in realization, casting her gaze down on the sandy ground, she mulls over your words. You then see how small she is, how she seems more than just a bicycle thief— is she not doing this for herself? Or is she just doing this for fun?

You sigh. “Huling pagkakataon.. bakit ba ninakaw mo bike ko?”

Last chance.. why did you steal my bike?

“Kase..” the girl gulps, fear shaking in her eyes as she looks up to you.

“M-Mabait si (N/N)!” Claire suddenly declares, stepping forward, she slowly tries to convey her thoughts and feelings. “Hindi ko pa siya kilala ng matagal.. pero alam ko mabait siya.”

(N/N) is kind! — I haven’t met her that long.. but I know she’s kind.

Your heart has practically melted then and there. Claire is to you as Arlo is to Rosa Diaz, if anyone hurts her, you’ll kill everyone here and yourself. She’s supporting your honor when she doesn’t even know if you’re a bugger-flicker or -wiper. What’s more her Tagalog has improved, she sounds so cute!

“Huwag ka mag-alala. Maiintindihan ka niya.” Court says, nodding at the girl.

Don’t worry. She’ll understand you.

“What’s with you two?!” you couldn’t hold back as you tearfully beam at the father-daughter duo. “You’re making my heart all fuzzy!”

The girl deeply breathes in and out. “Ninakaw ko po bike niyo kase kailangan ko pera— pero para sa pamilya!”

I stole your bike because I need the money— but for my family!

She begins to explain that her youngest sibling is going to start school, and she’s deciding to drop-out to help earn some money, being the oldest and all. Her mother is a single-parent, living in a shed at the hotel she’s working on with three children; the girl makes no mention of her father, and you know better than to probe.

After her explanation, she also confessed to her crimes. Stealing bicycles, purses, and even shoes that she would find along the Boardwalk. You then tell her to wait there and sprint back to the cafe. 

When you return, you hand her a paper bag; inside is a packaged whole strawberry shortcake with a pen and paper. “Tara, samahan kita umuwi. Malapit lang hotel dito, ikaw mag-bike tapos angkas ako.” you declare, tying your hair up into a ponytail.

C’mon, I’ll go with you. The hotel’s close here, you’ll bike and I’ll sit behind.

“Ano?” the girl stammers confusedly.

“Syempre, gusto ko malaman kung totoo nga ba sinasabi mo, pero ‘di ako magpapakita sa mama mo. At saka ‘di kita papauwiin mag-isa ng ganitong oras, babae ka pa rin.”

Of course, I wanna know if you’re telling the truth, but I won’t let your mother see you. And I won’t let you go home by yourself at a time like this, you’re still a girl.

The girl, in fact everyone there, stares at you like you’ve grown multiple heads. You roll your eyes at them and resist the urge to throw something at Muro. “Basta sabihin mo sa mama mo, sakto palabas yung customers namin no’ng pumasok ka at sinabi mo may nagnanakaw ng bike sa parking lot. Kaya kita binigyan ng cake saka application form, kase kung ‘di dahil sa’yo mawawalan ako ng bike.” you shortly pull up the paper from the bag, it’s a form for part-time applicants at the cafe.

Just tell your mom that you went into the cafe just as customers were going out and you told us someone’s bike is being stolen from the parking lot. That’s why I gave you a cake and an application form, because if it weren’t for you I’d lose my bike.

The girl is close to tearing up. “Bakit mo ginagawa ito?” Why are you doing this?

You smirk. “Kailangan namin ng utos-utusan, medyo dumadami customers namin tuwing umaga’t hapon.” We need someone to order around, customers have been increasing during the day.

“Pero—” But—

“Ay naku! Kukunin mo ba ‘yang binibigay ko o ibibigay kita sa pulis?” Oh, my! Are you gonna take my offer or am I going to take you to the police?

As soon as the girl reluctantly accepts your offer, you force her to ride the bike before plopping on the rear carrier.

“Bakit ano yung nasa harap?” Why am I in front?

“Mamaya kase may kutsilyo ka pang tinatago.” Because you may be hiding a knife.

You look at Muro and Mindy. “I’ll be quick,” and then turn to the father-daughter duo. “See you next week?”

Claire nods. “See you!”

“Be careful,” Mindy murmurs, trying not to eye the girl in suspicion.

“Don’t you want a ride?” Court suggests.

You’re surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’ll be faster.”

“Oh, a car is a lot faster than a bicycle.”

“Yes, so—” Court cuts himself off when you look at him expectantly, but there’s something else in your grin— “You’re being sarcastic.”

You laugh. “Sorry. But we’ll be fine, you two should get home.”

You force Lilia— the girl— to get a move on and soon, you two are riding off into the night, looking like the universe’s most unlikely pair of adventurers.

The hotel she claimed that her family is staying in is just four blocks away from the cafe. But just as Lilia rounds onto the last black, she abruptly presses on the brakes.

You yelp. “Ay, susmaryosep!” and slap the teen on the back, “I almost fell over!— Wait, sa’n ka pupunta?”

Wait, where are you going?

“Nanay ko ‘yon,” she slips off the bike and nods over to the direction of the hotel.

You glance and there is, in fact, a woman in her late 30s— maybe, it’s hard to discern age from this distance. But what’s discernible is the anxiety in her steps as she paces back and forth the sidewalk. “Sige, puntahan mo na. At pag-isipan mo yung na-offer ko,” you wag a finger at her and shortly look away, “Though I have to ask Liz about it first.”

Alright, go to her. And think about my offer

She hears you muttering. “Ano ‘yon?” What’s that?

“Wala— hurry and go! Shoo!” Nothing— bilisan mo at umalis ka na!

Lilia makes a face at you, swivels to walk away, and stops to turn back. “Ate (N/N)—”

“Aalis ka o ibabato ko yung bike na ‘to sa’yo?” You gonna leave or am I gonna throw this bike at you?

Fortunately, Lilia obliges. And you’d rather not break your precious bike over a smartass kid. Her mother instantly sprints to her after she spots Lilia. Invisible arrows shoot into your heart and spine when the mother tightly embraces her child. The urge to call, or even just send a short message to your mom, tingles in your fingers. But you keep the longing there, steadying it just at your fingertips, like that one Greek Titan sentenced to bear the heavens.

Lilia doesn’t mention that you’re there, as instructed by you, but she glances over to you from time to time. Her mother is too focused on her to pay her sneaking looks any heed. You wait until they’re stepping in the hotel before you turn the bike around and pedal back to the cafe.

The ride is slow— on purpose. You’re pedaling leisurely to bask in the cool evening air and whiff at the sea fragrance that gets stronger as you near the Boardwalk. It’s always chilly here at night, the naturally-occurring nocturnal heatwaves rarely win against the ocean flurries.

Out of the blue, you wonder if Claire has tread through the Boardwalk. You try not to cement any thoughts of suggesting it to the teen as she may ask you to come with her and Court again. Not that that’s a bad way to spend time with friendly strangers, but Court seems adamant in maintaining distance. Still, he wants Claire to socialize— as long as no one gets too close.

You think about the reasons for his behavior. What happened before they moved here in the Philippines? The country doesn’t have the best medical care, so why are they here? And what’s with the stealthy looks he would have whenever he’s looking over his shoulder or at the security cameras? 

And why the hell did he leave his daughter with strangers to help you?— she probably forced him, you realize. Muro and Mindy are still strangers, just like you are.

You decide how this is stressing you out and attempt to clear your mind. Imaginary fingers clutch your nape, you shudder and take a gander. This feels familiar— like that time at the mall. And again, no one is following you. There’s only a car parked at the far end of the block, but no one seems to be inside. It looks familiar, but there are a lot of cars like that here. You shrug and round the block, the cafe is in your sights.

Unbeknownst to you, there are people inside that car. The very same pair that has been plaguing your mind. 

Court urges the car forward, slowly but surely as he keeps the lights off. By the time they’re peeking out of the corner, you’re hauling the bicycle through the cafe’s front doors and probably arguing with Muro about it.

“She’s inside,” says Claire.

Court hums in agreement, checking the rearview mirror, he flicks on the lights and swivels the car around. He hears Claire giggling to herself and glimpses sideways at her. “What?” he asks, concerned rather than curious.

“Oh, nothing..” she breathes out cheerfully.

“Sure—” he pauses, “ Oh..”

She nods with a toothy grin. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“What? I’m only thinking about how you’re worried for someone other than me,” Claire turns to him, inclining her head rightward. “So, is it truly not that?”

“It’s,” he’s about to reply with the truth, but the lie flies out of his mouth first. “Not.”

She gasps dramatically. “How come?! When it was you who began following them without saying anything!”

Court feels his ears burning. Now, that’s true. When Lilia begins to pedal away with you, his instincts told him to be in pursuit. He and Claire bid goodbye to Mindy and Muro before trying not to drive away too hastily, they took a different path that still leads to where you’re going. None of you know whether the girl, who just robbed you, is telling the truth— until you all witnessed her mother hugging her.

The suspicion has evaporated, but Court would be lying if he says he’s done worrying about you. That’s why he followed you, slowly and discreetly, keeping him and Claire in the shadows. You felt their eyes on you, but you didn’t know where they were.

Just like last week at the mall.

Court saw you when he was exiting the hardware store. Immediately, he thought you were following them, so he decided to do the same to you. But the way you try to lose him diminishes his doubts, only an amateur stalker would fall for it. Even so, at the last second, you caught a glimpse of him. Luckily, it wasn’t enough for you to recognize him completely— judging from your reaction when you meet him at the bookstore.

He recalls the conversation he had with you when Claire bought cotton candies. He isn’t just worried about Claire, he’s also worried about you being too close for comfort. There are forces in this world that might be watching them, but are not as merciful as the Lord. It’s already risky planning to go out every Friday night or going to the mall once every two weeks. But Court has decided that, despite their circumstance, he would try to give Claire a long (and slightly normal) life if possible.

Even if that means interacting with anyone and becoming suspicious of every little thing they do. Hence, pulling them close at a safe distance and then pushing them far, far away.

“You’re real paranoid, you know?” Claire quips.

Court sighs heftily. “.. I concur.”

“You should get out more. Join the PTA.”

“School hasn’t started here… And you’ll be homeschooling, anyway.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re my teacher.”

“Hey, I know a ton of shit in school.”

“You saying it like that makes it so hard to believe.”

⚜🍰⚜🍰⚜🍰⚜

A/N: wow, that's a long one HAHAHA I guess it's just my way of making up for not updating last Wed or Thurs as I've (promised) noted ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡ y'all wanna know why? It's because of a smut Six x Reader that suddenly corrupted my mind! And because the update was late and I might not be able to post weekly, I'll be posting this smut for some fresh content for y'all hehehehe

The portal to another dimension Chapter 5 is not yet now open!

[the-hidden-pages]

Let Me Worship You: Part 1 - Zemo x Fem!Reader

The fact that this man is the one who dragged me out of my refusing-to-write-fanfiction grave and let me post old work while working on new stuff is...Impressive. Damn you Daniel Bruhl.

Synopsis: With all the horrible things you had heard of Baron Helmut Zemo, you hadn't anticipated just how badly he wished to win you over. To a further extent, you certainly hadn't anticipated how tempting it would be to give in.

No bad NSFW this chapter - this is the lead up to the main course.

You were not an Avenger.

Unsurprising, really, given what you perceived to be your lack of talent and marketable super-heroine prowess, and so when Bucky called you up asking for a favour, you were pleasantly surprised.

You had only met Bucky on the rare occasion he let you help him, often expressing that he viewed you as a worrywart, a particularly bad day of his leading to him accusing you of trying to be his mother. He later apologized, hearing your explanation that you wanted to help in any way you could, and since you didn't have a superhero serum or fancy suit or arm, you relied on what you could - your mind and your giving nature.

He must have remembered this conversation, because he brought you with him and Sam to what appeared to be an underground parking garage.

"What're you talking about, you wanna break Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we Buck? Have you lost your mind?!" Sam was raving as you followed behind the two men, silent as you stew over what Bucky had told you.

Babysitting duty.

You were effectively on glorified babysitting duty of an incredibly dangerous criminal.

"James..." you hesitated when he discussed this with you, how could you not? "I don't know how useful I'll be here."

"Very," he countered, his voice dull while his eyes were pleading. "Sam’s an Avenger, I have the serum. But you, you're just a person. Zemo will be less likely to hurt and immediately betray you because of that fact alone."

"He's killed people who've been in his way before. Normal people."

"He won't kill you. I'll make sure of that."

A heavy sigh escapes you as Sam and Bucky continue to bicker about the logistics of breaking Zemo out.

"I don't like how casual you're being about this, it's unnatural - and - where are we man?"

"I wouldn't mind an answer to that too," you supply, but any answer is interrupted by the sound of a door unlocking.

The three of you turn to approaching footsteps, and find no one other than Helmut Zemo striding towards you, dressed in a prison guard's uniform.

Sam responds immediately, arguing to throw him back in jail, while Bucky tries to calm him down. But you can't help but stare at the man before you as he removes the cap on his head, arms raised in an attempt to calm the men down.

"If I may" his voice rasped, but he was stopped short by Sam and Bucky in unison.

"NO!"

Zemo nodded, looking away almost sheepishly. "Apologies," came the quiet response.

If it were any other situation, you would have laughed - those two had the dynamics of a married couple and they couldn't stand each other. And for them to completely shut down the killer in front of them was...incredibly funny.

But you had a job to do.

As the boys continued to bicker, you took slow steps forward towards the man now looking you up and down, trying to place your part in all of this.

"Don't mind them," you spoke quietly, not wanting to distract Sam and Bucky, but still intending to speak with the criminal. "They're having some troubles in paradise. You must be Zemo."

His eyes take you in, a small smirk beginning to form. "So I must. May I have the pleasure of your name, Liebling?"

You offer your name hesitantly, and he repeats it back to you, as though he were sampling what it might taste like.

"Beautiful name, thank you." He turns to face the two men still arguing, not noticing your introductions. "I really think I'm invaluable..."

"Shut up..." Sam warned, before turning back to Bucky, looking between him and you.

You nod reassuringly to him - this is necessary, if the super soldiers are to be dealt with.

A sharp sigh leaves Sam. "Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission. And she is watching you every step of the way."

Bucky interjects. "And if anything happens to her, you're going to wish we left you in that cell."

Zemo nods, looking to you once again. "Fair."

You tilt your head slightly, unable to read his eyes as they examine you. You brush it off, chalking it up to him appreciating not being thrown back into a cell immediately. "Okay Zemo. Where do we start?"

*************************************

Zemo wasn't sure of what to make of you, he realized as you were on the jet to Riga.

You weren't an Avenger, you weren't a soldier, super or otherwise. You seemed to just be a person, one constantly offering her help where she could, even when it was to her own detriment.

He also took note of how rarely your help was appreciated or reciprocated.

You would offer help any moment you could, carrying supplies, offering to fetch food, simply offering and ear to listen. You were quick to attempt to smooth over Sam and Bucky's disputes, and you would play along with the role Zemo would assign you without much question - anything to help, you would say.

You were kind, he noticed as well. Smart, and shrewd, and clearly with trust issues, but you were kind and polite. You spoke with him as much as you might Sam or Bucky, you offered him your trust under the promise he would aide you find the super soldier serum. With your kindness, he thought it might be easy to manipulate you, to slip away from the group, maybe even to ask you to join him.

But there was an issue with his theory, he quickly noticed - any attempt to woo you, attract you, win you...didn't seem to work.

He hadn't been at the task long, mind you, but he had hoped you would be impressed with the jacket, the Baron title, the jet, the offer of wine. Instead, you simply seemed uncomfortable. Come Madripoor, you were happy to play the part of eye candy to escape much attention, yet when he offered you to keep the stunning dress, shoes, and jewelry ensemble you simply waved it off, claiming that you'd reimburse him if he insisted on you keeping it. You were happy to dance near him, unable to hide your laughter at his moves, yet he offered you a drink and you promptly declined, claiming it unnecessary.

Zemo's brow furrows as he observes you, awake and quietly reading as Sam and Bucky both sleep on the flight.

"What's your motive, Liebling?" he questions, and you glance up from your page.

"Don't tell me the criminal doesn't trust me," you respond wryly, turning your gaze back.

"No, I don't mean like that," he shifts, leaning forward to continue to observe the woman that was his guard. "I wonder what keeps you going. Some are motivated by riches, and dreams. Others from spite and anger. What do you want from life, my dear? What causes you to wake up in the morning?"

You pause, looking up to search his eyes to see where this question was coming from. You weren't sure what game he was playing, and you weren't sure how to answer him either. You eventually look back down to your book, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing wakes me up in the morning, given I rarely get to sleep most nights."

His brows furrowed as she goes back to her pages, eager for the conversation to end. Her difficulty doesn't seem to be that he's a criminal - she's spoken plenty freely to him, she agrees to his plans...

The difficulty, he begins to realize with a smile. Maybe he's beginning to see what the difficulty is after all.

*************************************

You weren't sure what to make of Zemo, you think as you lie awake at night in the Riga safe house.

This criminal coming out of nowhere, apparently being rich as hell, so far doing nothing to cause you to believe he would betray you (yes, Sam and Bucky were shocked by his killing of Nagel, but really? You weren't shocked) ...but what shocked you the most was how badly he seemed to want to win you over.

You could justify it, sure. You're supposed to be his guard, he's likely trying to get you to let your guard down so he can escape. Yet when he's so charismatic, the way he holds himself, that voice...

Your eyes snap open sharply.

You were attracted to Zemo.

The man you're meant to be watching.

No, you told yourself. You're just lonely, and he's the first man offering you attention in a long time. It doesn't matter that his eyes examining you makes you blush, that you want to run your fingers through his hair, that a quiet voice your head wished that he would kiss you when he pulled you aside with one arm, other hand aiming at a pipe in Madripoor to blow up some poor saps...

It's the heat of the situation, you told yourself. Your options are Sam, Bucky, and Zemo...

Trust you to pick the worst option.

But how could you not, your mind whispers. When he danced like a goofball in a club your heart warmed. When he sat, filled with confidence and righteousness in the jet, legs splayed enough that you could perch on your knees in front of him, worship him, pleasure him. When he left the bathroom this morning in that damned robe, the deep V drawing your eyes down his chest before you could help himself.

You groaned. Of all the thoughts to keep you awake, why did it have to be your assignment on your mind?

It was too hot, your mind was swimming, you knew sleep wouldn't come soon.

And so, you stood, wrapping your arms around your book and padding downstairs in a loose t-shirt and shorts. Zemo had said that you were welcome to whatever resided within the safe house, and you were ready to take up his offer and steal a cup of tea.

You weren't expecting to find anyone else still awake. And yet, you weren't fully surprised to find Zemo sitting in the kitchen, bottle of whiskey at his side, a glass in his hand. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a soft smile on his face.

"Good evening, Liebling."

"Zemo. Can't sleep?"

"Unfortunately, not." He leans backwards slightly, examining you. "Another sleepless night for you as well."

"So it would seem."

You take a seat across the counter from him, not wanting to sit too closely to the man you were just fantasizing about. You were good at keeping a straight face, but you wondered if you got too close if he'd somehow be able to smell it on you.

He pushed his bottle forward, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Drink?"

Your finger caresses the binding of your book as you hesitate to find the words.

"Actually, I had come down to make myself a cup of tea, if you don't mind."

Zemo's eyes lit up slightly, and he stood, motioning for you to stay where you were. "Allow me."

"You don't have to-" you begin to protest, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Please, Liebling, let me spoil you."

The heat that washes over you is clearly visible, if his chuckle is any indicator.

Silence falls and you quietly open your book as Zemo busies himself over the tea. In mere minutes a steeping mug is delicately placed in front of you. You smile graciously and nod, though you falter slightly as he doesn't return to the other end of the counter - rather, sitting on a stool right beside you, inquisitive eyes not leaving your face.

"Can I help you with something, Baron?" you question, taking the tea and blowing on it to cool it down somewhat. His eyes follow your movements, before travelling to meet yours again.

You could drown in those eyes -

"Day after day you offer your help, sarcastically or not," he begins, leaning forward slightly as he rests his chin on his hand, examining you. "Who offers help to the helper?"

You take a sip of your tea, tilting you head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your refusal of my gifts, your reluctance to let me even make you a cup of tea - at first I wondered if it was in distrust of me, Liebling -"

"Well, you have killed people."

He quirks an eyebrow, and you motion for him to finish.

"I realize now it's because you're uncomfortable being cared for. You spend so much time looking after everyone else, you give no one the opportunity to worship you as you deserve."

You choked a bit on your tea at that.

"I don't know that I deserve to be worshiped, I just...exist. And do what I can to help others."

Zemo leaned forward further, slowly, so as to not push you away in result. "We haven't been acquainted for long, my dear, but from all I've seen from you with Sam, with James, and with an undeserving man such as myself...the strength in your soul and the empathy in your heart...It alone rises you so far above the men and women placed on pedestals because of their supernatural abilities."

You lean forward to match, but your eyes have steeled over. "Your sweet words won't make me let you go, Zemo. I won't betray Sam and Bucky."

He didn't miss a beat. "I should be so lucky to be held captive by you for eternity, Liebling. I don't ask you to betray your friends on my behalf."

"Then what do you want from me, exactly?"

You should be very afraid. The man who singlehandedly tore apart the Avengers is staring at you as if you were a last meal, his knees touching yours, his hand finding its way to lightly perch on your arm.

You should be afraid.

Yet despite your better judgement, you aren't.

"I want you to tell me every one of your desires, so I might fulfill them. I want to see you stand tall in the finest clothes money can buy, to whisk you away to Paris, Vienna, Rome, every beautiful local this world has to offer, local that pale in comparison to the beauty in front of me. I want you to let me bring you tea, wine, food, chocolates, and anything else that might please you. I want you to relax against me, to feel the tension you've had all mission to wash away in the most luxurious bath of your life, while I wash your beautiful hair, while I taste every inch of you."

His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward more to hang off his every word. "I'm not a stupid man. I know it's only a matter of time before I'm back in a prison cell of some kind. And even if I weren't, you may not believe the sincerity of my words. But tonight, little bird, I want you to let me worship you."

Your eyes fluttered as his hand reached forward to cup your cheek, thumb caressing over your bottom lip. You had the strength to look him dead in the eye with one final warning.

"If this is a trick of any kind, Zemo, I won't hesitate to let Bucky rip you to shreds."

The laughter that leaves him fans over your face, drawing your eyes to his lips.

"I'd expect nothing less, Liebling."

His eyes still search your face. A gentleman, you realize. He's waiting for permission.

You lean forward to close the gap, slowly letting your mouth brush over his, tasting him for the first time, as your hand raises to card through the locks of hair in his face. Your body thrums with anticipation of what's to come, with the anxiety that this may be a dangerous move, with pure, undiluted arousal from his words.

Yet you break away gently, both hands cupping his face now as he looks at you, curious as to why you stopped, pleased that his initial seduction worked.

Your hands slowly travel down to his own, and you stand, backing towards the way you came when you first gave up on sleep for the night.

"Come on then. You want to show me what being spoiled is like?"

A grin curls its way onto his face as he spins you in his arms, twirling you so that your back is against his front, his arms around you, his breath hot in your ear.

"Little bird, I'll give you everything you crave and more."

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (6/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops. 

It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much. 

Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry. 

I promise the darker stuff is coming soon. 

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

I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night. 

Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up. 

“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more. 

“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?” 

“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background. 

Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?” 

“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs. 

My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?” 

“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation? 

I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet. 

Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”

“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways. 

“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”

“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.” 

“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” 

I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”

“It’s happened more than once before.” 

I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”  

“Daddy made him wear a dress!” 

An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise. 

“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.” 

“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”

“He almost did,” he replies jokingly. 

“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back. 

He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”

“Toooshiiii!”

“What? You know I’m right.” 

“Hmph.” 

“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.

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

We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume. 

After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work. 

I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often. 

One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it. 

I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas. 

.

.

.

.

Like a glove. Perfect! 

Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help? 

I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger. 

Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around. 

My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot. 

He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.” 

“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.  

I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks. 

I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.” 

That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!” 

I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his. 

Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours. 

The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.

Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me. 

She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me. 

I- What? What’s going on lately?

Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!? 

Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it’s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though? 

I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.

What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd? 

Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is. 

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

Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi. 

“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night. 

I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.” 

“Too late! Sorry!” 

I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring.  Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now. 

The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now. 

“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.” 

He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?” 

I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”   

His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.” 

Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor. 

“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.

Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow. 

I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”

He does, but just barely. 

It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front. 

They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on. 

"What's wrong, little hypno-man?" 

"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."

"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them. 

"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside." 

"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up. 

"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."

"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed." 

"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!" 

I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say. 

“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”

The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now. 

I decided to bring up what happened earlier.  “Remember that bad woman from before?”

“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?

As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?” 

“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?” 

“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies. 

“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it. 

Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses? 

Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment. 

Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal. 

He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.” 

My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything! 

Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.

A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.” 

“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return. 

“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet. 

The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.  

“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them. 

“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~” 

I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed! 

I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin. 

We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress. 

I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening. 

Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.  

… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine. 

The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.” 

I try to brush them off while looking at the menu. 

“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?” 

“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not. 

“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.  

“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses. 

What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself! 

My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?” 

“Tadao, you work here?” 

His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?” 

“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”

“Ha, you got me there.” 

The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand. 

“Ya know each other?” 

“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.

He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them. 

“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.” 

“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs. 

??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?” 

“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.” 

Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far. 

It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of. 

Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.

“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me. 

I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.

He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”

Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit. 

He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well. 

“Do I?” I question teasingly. 

The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem? 

He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting. 

I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something. 

That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind. 

“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi. 

“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before. 

“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.

“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs. 

Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!” 

The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed. 

Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me? 

“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well. 

“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!” 

Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!” 

Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.

Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”  

I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.  

At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point. 

Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself. 

The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us. 

I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone. 

Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place. 

“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me. 

I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”

“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?” 

I just nod and enter the bathroom. 

A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to. 

Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary. 

Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves. 

This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand. 

I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract. 

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

taglist-

@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy   

Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 6 - Festival

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Teasing and a little bit of Fluff.

Summary: Your best friend Rina is curious about what's been keeping you so busy, and the two of you run into Gojo and his student at a food festival.

A/N: I have been working on my jjk fics but this chapter was a little bit difficult for me to write. A little bit of backstory and plot building here. Gojo and personal space? Non-existent. You can't tell me that the man wouldn't abuse his flirting rights.

- - - 

“Aren’t you a little warm in that top?”

Rina glanced at the high collared t-shirt you were wearing under your mini dress. The top covered the marks that Gojo left on your neck but the material was a little too thick for the summer heat. Thankfully, there was a breeze cooling you off otherwise you would be dripping with sweat.

“I’m fine,” you replied, directing your attention onto the vendors instead of your best friend’s narrowed eyes.

Rina asked you to come along to check out a food festival set up in the city. The entire district was lined with painted stalls which made for a picture perfect scene. The rich aroma of cooked food danced around you, enticing the bustling crowd that was growing in numbers. From golden battered fried takoyaki balls to mouthwatering barbecued yakitori, rainbow cotton candy that sent strings of sugar into the air and sweet kakigori to cleanse the palette…

Everything was making your stomach grumble.

“Oh, let’s get okonomiyaki!” Rina suggested.

After picking up your orders, you both sat at an empty table where you could enjoy your meal. You were ignoring the way Rina continued looking at you suspiciously, clearly not letting go of her obsession with the top you were wearing.

“Okay, that’s it. Let me see it.”

“See what?” you questioned, covering your mouth as you tried to chew on your food.

“The hickey you are hiding.”

You nearly choked as you swallowed but Rina didn’t flinch at your reaction. You patted your chest lightly, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts.

“I’m not hiding anything!” you replied defensively.

Rina rolled her eyes at you, “then at least tell me who the guy is…”

You waved your arm nonchalantly in her direction, desperately trying to avoid getting into a losing battle with your best friend. If there was one person in the world who didn’t need superhuman abilities to tell what you were thinking - it was Rina. She read you like an open book, making it near impossible for you to keep a secret from her. How you managed to go this long without her figuring out you were hooking up with Gojo was a miracle.

“I just want to know exactly what has been keeping you so busy recently,” she continued, “I’m having a hard time believing it’s work because you would be in a miserable mood if you were spending all your free time at the office.”

“ Or we can talk about how absolutely delicious this is...” you blurted, letting her words travel in your ear and out the other as you pointed at the meal in front of you.

Rina lifted her brow, shaking her head in disapproval. She calmly placed her chopsticks on her plate, leaning forward a little closer to you before hooking her finger in the collar of your shirt and tugging it down to check your neck.

“LIAR!”

You clasped your hand over the mark, your eyes widening as you prodded your best friend with your other finger.

“Oh, you are in trouble!” a sly smile spread across her pretty face, “when did you start dating again? I thought you swore off men after what happened with the fitness instructor..”

“Please don’t remind me of him…”

“Then who is this mystery man that you are hiding?”

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to reveal the truth about the deal you and Gojo had made. Yes, you were having fun together and none of it was supposed to be as serious as you were making it out in your head. In fact, Rina would probably applaud you for initiating this to begin with.

But…

Rina also liked to ask hard questions: why were you using him instead of confronting your heartbreak? Why were you chasing after something false instead of trying for real love again? Do you really want to risk ruining the friendship you both have?

Those were questions that you didn’t have the answers to.

“It’s...It’s some guy at work, you don’t know him…” you stated, finally settling on a good enough excuse to satisfy her curiosity

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Just a few weeks…” you fibbed.

“Tell me what he’s like?”

“Uhh…he’s fun, I guess …handsome, kind of charming…but it’s only been a few dates, I still don’t really know him well yet.”

You swallowed hard, hating yourself for not having the courage to tell Rina the truth. Your best friend continued throwing questions at you while your brain spat out the answers before you could even think things through, your guilt twisting your insides with all the lies you were spewing.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner…”

Rina smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I just want you to be happy. If you like this guy, you should give him a chance. Who knows, maybe this could turn into something serious…”

“I am not really looking for anything serious,” you admitted, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “At least not right now…”

How could you want something serious after what happened?

You and your ex-boyfriend were together for five years. You met him when you were both at university and he swept you off your feet. His handsomeness showed through his kind personality and he always managed to make you smile. He was your first of many things, including this painful heartbreak.

You hated yourself for getting comfortable with him, for allowing your mind to plan a future that you both could share. You were disappointed that he made you fall in love with him but more so, that he abandoned you to piece together what was left.

You always felt like you never had your closure. When you asked him why he cheated, he never gave you a solid answer. He was ashamed for keeping his infidelity a secret for so long that his only response was a pathetic apology.

Who was this woman that he was willing to jeopardize your relationship for?

Why did he stop loving you?

You blamed yourself because you couldn’t understand.

One minute you were happy and the next you found yourself betrayed in the worst way possible.

You had enough respect for yourself to know that you couldn’t stay with a man who would treat you this way. When you broke up, you expected him to beg for your forgiveness. He was your prince charming, of course he would come crawling back.

You only knew that he had moved on with his lover when you caught the two of them at the supermarket together. They were buying peas, completely entranced with one another and the adoration that your former boyfriend used to look at you with was now passed on to the woman with golden hair.

He was your weakness and you…

You still loved him.  

Rina’s eyes shifted to the crowd, pausing when she recognised a face among the sea of strangers.

“Oh! Look who is over there!”

You glanced over your shoulder, following her line of sight until you saw your dirty little secret wave at you from a distance.

Gojo was eating ice cream, mindlessly swerving around the crowd and looking exceptionally fine in his summer fit. Adorned on the top of his head were cat ears, a little souvenir trinket that some of the vendors were selling at their stalls. His free arm was draped across a teen boy’s shoulder, whose unamused face indicated that he was not keen on being here.

“Rina-chan!” Gojo sang as he approached your table, “it’s nice to see you!”

“You too! How are things?”

“Great! Busy with the usual but today I decided to stop by with my student. This is Megumi…”

The boy awkwardly bowed to greet you and Rina.

“It’s nice to meet you both…”

Gojo’s shades slid down his nose slightly, and you caught a glimpse of those blue eyes. When he winked in your direction, you couldn’t help but blush.

“What are you two up to?” he casually asked.

“Well, I finally got Miss “Busy All The Time” to myself today and we just had some okonomiyaki, that guy over there is selling it…”

Gojo hummed and swirled his tongue around his vanilla ice cream before calmly replying, “I know, she’s been so preoccupied lately! Oi, when are we going to have our catch up session?”

Your face grew warmer, Gojo was good at keeping secrets and him playing off like he hasn’t been the one taking up all of your spare time only resulted in you staring at him with furrowed brows.

Thankfully, Megumi interrupted the conversation.

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” he stated, turning his heel to walk away from your little group.

“I’ll meet up with you in a minute,” Gojo replied with a nod.

“I’m also going to use this opportunity to find the restroom. Gojo can keep you company until I get back,” Rina added, as she stood up from her seat.

Gojo gave her a thumbs up, “happily!”

The sorcerer took Rina’s place, sitting down across from you while his long legs bumped into yours as he adjusted his position. He paused for a moment, watching your friend and his student disperse into the crowd before finally returning his attention back to you.

“Nice outfit by the way but a little warm for today’s weather in my opinion.”

“I wonder whose fault that is…” you mused, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at his teasing comment, “I bet you think you’re so cute assuming you’re completely innocent in all this.”

Gojo smiled, “Actually, I know I’m cute.”

You couldn’t deny it, even right now as you watched him with those ridiculous cat ears that pulled back his white locks. He definitely was catching the eye of every girl and guy who passed by.

You flicked one of the black ears on his head,  “this is a new look for you…”

“I bought it for Megumi but he wasn’t too pleased wearing it around, kept saying that I was embarrassing him...” Gojo explained with a frown.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on your thighs and bringing the ice cream in his hand to your face.

“Want a taste?” he asked innocently.

Your heart skipped a beat, unaware that Gojo would get this close to you in public. He knew that you hadn't told anybody about what you both have been doing and you wondered if he was deliberately trying to put you in an awkward position. You subconsciously scanned the crowd to see if Rina or Megumi were around.

You tilted your head back slightly before asking, “do you understand the concept of personal space?”

“Relax,” Gojo said in a low voice, “no one is paying attention to us.”

“What if they come back…”

“I’ll see them before they see us,” he replied with confidence, grazing his free hand over your thigh. “Besides, you look like you could use something to cool you off…”

You arched your brow, deciding to give in and play this little flirtation game. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your hand around his slender fingers and slowly leaning forward to lick the ice cream off his cone. You kept your gaze on Gojo, focusing on the devilish smirk that spread across his lips as he watched with approval.

“Mmm, that is good…” you moaned, before looking at him with glittering eyes, “wait, I didn’t get any ice cream on my face, did I?”

Gojo chuckled under his breath, “you’ve got a little something right here…”

His hand moved up to your face, his fingers holding your chin as he brought your lips to his. You inhaled, holding your breath as you were caught off guard by him stealing a kiss. The moment was fleeting and before you knew it, he parted his lips from yours but trailed his hand down your neck to take a peek at the hickey he left on your skin.

“I usually don’t care about where I mark you but if it’s a big concern I’ll make sure to do it in places where only I can see…”

Even though he spoke in a low whisper, you felt like it was loud enough for the whole crowd to hear how flustered you just got by his words.

You cleared your throat, turning your face away from him to regain your composure. “Behave, Satoru…”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “I could keep going but Rina will be back in any minute…”

You sensed a hint of annoyance in his voice when he said that.

The sorcerer leaned back, inviting the space that separated you both as he ate his ice cream with indifference. Sometimes you wish you could flip the switch as easily as he did but you found it impossible.

Rina arrived before you could even respond to his statement.

“What did I miss?” she asked, patting Gojo lightly on the shoulder to request returning to her seat.

“Nothing special,” Gojo answered with a shrug as he stood up , “I think I’m going to head back and find this kid before he leaves without me knowing.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening! Also, you should stop by the candy shop sometime. I’ve been working on some new treats I think you might like…”

“I will,” he promised, stretching the lying game even further. He proceeded to remove the headband he was wearing, his white hair flopping over his shades as he handed you the cat ears. “Hold on to these for me won’t you…”

You took it, puzzled by the sudden gesture.

“What for?”

“Just an excuse to pick it up from you later,” he remarked innocently, “otherwise I’ll never see you!”

Rina laughed, clearly not catching on to his hidden invitation. Gojo waved goodbye and walked away, leaving you both to return to your date.

For a moment you thought your lie was about to catch up to you but realised that it was easy keeping this secret because nobody would expect you to hook up with Gojo.

You guys have been playing this song and dance for a while, saving your flirtatious banter and curiosities for when you two were alone together. Maybe you’ll come clean eventually, but for now you wanted to enjoy the bubble you were in.

You played with the cat ears in your hand, completely unaware that you were smiling to yourself.

- CHAPTER 7: GAMES - 

[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 1

Alright everyone here is the first chapter of the series. Apologies for the delay, I had a lot of editing to do. I hope you enjoy it!

@mqgriett

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 3440

Warnings: Amnesia like stuff. Language. Bad Batch SPOILERS: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE TV SERIES!

It’s odd how quickly things change on the battlefield. This kind of change you never expected. You and the Bad Batch met about a year after the war started and with your sharpshooting and other combat skills, Hunter offered that you join their team. You got along with most of the group very quickly, with the exception of Crosshair. Over time, after a lot of sneers and eye rolling, the two of you grew closer. After a particularly grueling mission, both of you admitted how you felt and now the two of you barely went anywhere without the other. You were the perfect duo, with both of your skills combined, missions went without a hitch almost every time.

The group had been called to the planet Kaller to assist Master Billaba. Her padawan, Caleb, you believed his name was, led you and the boys to his master. That’s when it happened… that change, the shift in the air. The troops turned on the Jedi and fired on her. Order 66. Caleb bolted, running off into the woods, sliding down hills with a certain hatred in his eyes that you had never seen in someone so young, so… innocent. You, Hunter, and Crosshair ran after him. The woods were so peaceful compared to the chaos everywhere else.

It was quiet and Caleb seemed to disappear. You looked around and saw him in the trees. “Hunter, Crosshair, I found him.” While Hunter tries to convince the kid to come down, Crosshair aims at the kid. “Crosshair no!” You tackle him down into the snow.

Caleb runs off, Hunter yells out, “Crosshair, what are you doing?”

“Following orders. Get off me Y/n.” Crosshair shoves you off him before getting up.

You follow him, an angry look on your face. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m following my orders. We need to find that Jedi.” The man walks off, you tailing behind him.

“Crosshair, we don’t even know what the order is.” You grab his hand, “Just wait until we know what’s happening.”

He turns his head towards you before scoffing, “Fine.”

Good soldiers follow orders. Crosshair mumbled that before Hunter sent you back with the others. When all of you got back to the ship, Tech explained that all the clones had been ordered to execute the Jedi. Saying that they committed treason and tried to kill the Chancellor. The war was just somehow over. None of it made any sense. According to the sergeant, Caleb died in a fall. You all got ordered back to Kamino, offloading and heading to your barracks.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape, or do you want to keep lying?” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter gets up, “I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as an objective.”

“An order is an order, Hunter.”

“Since when Cross? You’ve never been one to follow orders, why are you starting now.” You raise your voice to the two men. Everyone goes quiet.

“Don’t act noble y/n, you’re as much to blame as Hunter is for letting that Jedi escape. I could have gotten him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“He was a child!” You walk up to him, glaring into his eyes.

“He was a traitor!” Crosshair pushes you back before continuing to clean his weapon.

You speak up after a while. “This doesn’t make any sense. General Billaba and her battalion have been in numerous battles, serving alongside each other for years.”

Echo speaks up this time, “How could they turn on her like that?”

“Because of the regs programming. It’s been documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without any question” Tech explains. “They manipulated everything, Crosshair’s sharpshooting and Hunter’s enhanced sense. And of course my exceptional mind. I assume that we are immune,” Tech glances at Crosshair. “at least, most of us.”

All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic.

--

You felt so out of place in the staging area, surrounded by clones that felt off to you. Their mannerisms were different, more robotic. You were drawn back at attention when Chancellor- no Emperor Palpatine began speaking.

....And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you. My resolve has never been stronger! In order to ensure the security and continuing stability…

… the Republic will be reorganized… into the first Galactic Empire!

“Galactic Empire?” You look over to your team in confusion. Sudden cheers ripple across the room, the other clones celebrating like it's the greatest thing in the world.

--

Tech and Wrecker were arguing at the table. You kept looking at Crosshair, he was acting odd, well more that usual. He’s still acting like a prick, so that’s a good sign. He let you sit next to him, so that was good too. But he kept rubbing his head, like he had a migraine of some kind… so odd. You nudged his thigh.

“Are you feeling well, Cross? You look sick.”

“Thanks for the compliment, y/n.”

“You know what I mean... tell me what’s going on.”

“Just a migraine, don’t worry about it.”

“An Imperial’s been sent to evaluate the clones.” Hunter speaks as he sits down.

“What kind of evaluation?”

“Hopefully not mental. Clearly we’d never pass that… well, maybe y/n could.” Tech nods his head to you.

“Oh I doubt it, with all the stuff we’ve been through together, I’d probably fail.” You take a sip of your water before something catches your eye.

Omega shifts awkwardly, “Hello again. Omega. From earlier?.... in the corridor.”

“Yeah, kid. We remember.” Hunter raised his eyebrow at the child.

Hunter was about to ask about the kids parents before a couple regs interrupted. “Check it out. The defect squad’s got themselves a recruit.” Before you can react, Omega throws her food at the clone. Hunter tries to diffuse the situation, but you didn’t get your throw in so you grab your tray.

“Y/n, don’t.” Crosshair attempts to grab your wrist but just misses you.

“Don’t worry, Cross. I won’t miss.” You wink at him.

“Hey Wrecker, let's show the kid how it’s done, yeah?” You aim before to throw the tray at the clone. “Oops, my hand must’ve… slipped.”

All hell breaks loose and punches are thrown. Echo got knocked out, when the boys got up to go get him, you walked by Crosshair. Here goes nothing.

“Crosshair?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You grab his hand and pull him into a hall. “What happened on Kaller? Tell me what happened.”

“I told you, it’s just-”

“Why are you lying to me?” You pull his hand, drawing him closer.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, it’s you all. You’re the ones who refused to carry out the order.”

“An order to kill a child, Crosshair.”

“That child was a traitor to the Empire.”

“But a child nonetheless.” You retort.

“You don’t understand, none of you do. Just drop it.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Crosshair, you’re worrying me.”

The man looks down at you, he looks so lost. “There is nothing wrong. I promised I would never lie to you when I proposed.” He tugs at the delicate chain around your neck, fiddling with the ring that he gave you just weeks before.

You look at him, skeptical, “And you’ll tell me if something is wrong? Cross your heart?”

His lips tilt up, “Cross my heart.”

--

Echo told you all about Tarkin. When you all started heading towards the training facility, the shock troopers stopped you.

“Y/n L/n? Admiral Tarkin has asked you to sit out of this battle simulation.”

You furrow your brows, “He’s asking me to not train with my team?” You look at Hunter and shrug, “I’ll be watching, I guess… Be careful, something doesn’t feel right.”

Wrecker speaks up, “Oh don’t worry Y/n, we’ll be fine!”

When you arrive at the observation deck, you are greeted by Lama Su and who you assume is Admiral Tarkin.

“Ms. L/n.” The prime minister greets you in a monotone voice.

“Prime Minister, may I-” you were interrupted by Tarkin.

“We can dismiss formalities, begin the simulation. Ms. L/n, you will be answering some questions for me.”

“....Of course, Admiral” You stand next to the man, watching the boys go through the course.

“What is your opinion of this team, L/n?”

“My opinion, sir? Well they are the best group I have worked with. Their skills are the most impressive I’ve seen.” You speak as you watch Crosshair take out the tower cannons. Wrecker is having the time of his life by the looks of things. So far so good.

“Switch to live fire.” Your blood runs cold, live fire? What is going on here? You watch the new droids take their place down below, Wrecker got hit and you tensed, unaware that Tarkin noticed your worry.

“And what of your relationship with these clones?”

“My relationship sir?” Your eyes catch onto Crosshair in the tower, moving to run out the door when he almost falls from the tower. Tarkin didn’t miss that either. He turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Surely you’re aware that relationships within the military are forbidden, especially with these… clones.” The bile in his tone made you sick, you wanted to punch him.

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting Admiral, but I can assure you that my relationship with my team is strictly as comrades.”

“I’m sure of it then. I will be sending Clone Force 99 on a mission. I ask that you stay in Kamino during that time. And one more thing.” Tarkin turns to you. “Did your team carry out Order 66?”

You grit your teeth, “Yes sir, the death of the general and her padawan were confirmed, was that not clear to you?”

“Only the death of General Billaba was confirmed, a counter report was filed by one of your own says otherwise.” Tarkin turns and walks out. “That will be all Ms. L/n, you are dismissed.”

Once Tarkin was out of sight, you ran back to the barracks. You rush in, seeing the boys, frustrated looks on their face. “Who’s that Imperial bastard think he is?!”

Echo turns, “Y/n! Are you alright? What happened?”

“He questioned me about you guys. Asked of my opinion… and of my relationship with you all…”

“That bastard,” Echo clenches his fist, “He knows everything about everyone. He’s got it out for us.”

You look at Crosshair, “Tarkin said that one of us filed a counter-”

The door slides open and the devil himself walks through, “That was quite an impressive display, Nala Se claims that you are all more capable than an army.”

Hunter steps forward, “You have a mission for us, sir?”

“Yes, a group of insurgents in the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with. Unfortunately, Ms. L/n will not be able to join you. She will be staying here on Kamino while you complete this task.”

--

You help Tech load the last bit of supplies on the ship. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll stay in the barracks until you come back.”

“It shouldn’t take us long. If everything goes according to plan that is.” Tech says.

You smile and walk down the ramp.

“Y/n.” Crosshair calls you over.

“Yes Cross?”

He takes your hand and runs his fingers over your wrist, avoiding your eyes. “There’s something-”

“Crosshair! Let’s go!”

He looks back at you, apologizing. You squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Crosshair, we can talk about it when you come back.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. “ Be careful, okay.”

“Okay, y/n.” He pressed his lips to your temple before climbing up the ramp. They take off and you turn around, finding Omega behind you.

“Hey, uh, Omega right?”

“Yeah! And you’re y/n.” You can’t help but notice the worry in her features.

“Is something wrong?” You lean closer when the child just nods

“Kamino isn’t safe anymore, we need to get out of here. Something is going to happen, I just don’t know what. But the boys aren’t safe here.”

You kneel to her height, “Okay, I believe you. Something has been off ever since the order was declared. Keep quiet for now, okay. When the boys come back, we’ll figure something out.” Omega nods and runs off to Nala Se.

--

“Y/n!” Omega rushes into the barracks.

“Omega! What are you doing here?” You walk up and close the door. “Oh hey AZI.”

-“Ms. L/n. Omega, Nala Se instructed us to stay in the medical wing.”

“You guys can stay, think of it as a research assignment.” You smile at the girl.

Omega and AZI are looking around the barracks when troopers come to the door.

“You are not authorized to be here.”

You speak up, “Omega is fine, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

The trooper turns to his partner, “Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar. You two, you’re coming with me.”

“We’ve done nothing wrong, and you are not touching our stuff. Back off!”

The troopers grab you and Omega.

“Let go of her!” You struggle against his grip, then everything goes black.

--

You groan and open your eyes.

“Y/n! Are you okay? They hit you a-and then threw us here!”

You grab Omega’s hand. “Slow down, I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to stay calm okay?”

The door slid open, revealing the batch, they were missing their armor. “Guys!”

“Y/n, what happened?” Hunter helps you off the ground. Crosshair just rubbed his head and walked to a corner.

“I don’t know, they just threw us in here.” You rub your head. “What are you guys doing here, what happened to the insurgents?”

Hunter pauses, “They weren’t droids, they were people. There were children and elderly. We didn’t hurt them.”

From the corner, Crosshair interjects, “Because Hunter went soft, he had us disobey orders.”

“What? Crosshair, they were living people.” You look at him, confused.

“We’re locked in here because of him. First the padawan, then Gerrera. You’re becoming a liability, Sergeant.”

“Enough.” Everyone looks at you, “None of this is helping us get the hell out of here.”

--

After Omega spoke to your fiance, you quietly sit next to him. “Crosshair, I know you’re the one who filed the report.”

“How smart you are, y/n.”

“You don’t have to do this. You would never do this.” You're interrupted by the man that threw you in here.

“CT-9904, you’re coming with us.”

Hunter jumps up, “Oh, no, no, no. We stay together”

“Stand down!”

“Crosshair!”

“I said stand down!” The trooper shoves you back into the cell.

--

As Crosshair puts on his armor, he notices a chain with a ring around his neck. He doesn’t remember who or what it’s for. Help me, please. Don’t hurt them. Don’t hurt y/n.

Tarkin approaches him, “CT-9904, the prisoners have escaped from the brig. Make sure they don’t leave this planet.”

Crosshair tucks his helmet under his arm. “Yes, sir.” Good soldiers follow orders.

--

You tighten your hand in Omega’s as you run through the halls to get to the hangar.

“All right, this way. Let’s make this quick.”

Tech runs to power up the ship, and the hangar door opens.

You tighten the grip on your rifle, “Omega, get down. Do not get up until Hunter says so, okay?” You look up and see him.

“Crosshair, it’s me. I-”

“Crosshair?”

“Best stand down, Sergeant.” His eyes flit over to you. “You as well.”

“Lower your weapon.”

“Y/n” Hunter looks at you. You nod and raise your rifle.

“I can’t do that Crosshair. I’m sorry. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

One of the troopers fire, blaster shots flying everywhere.

“Omega, go!” You yell out. You glance back and see Crosshair take aim at Hunter. A shot fires, knocking the rifle out of his hands. Omega. You take aim at his rifle when he tries to grab it again and fire. Crosshair shoots up as you run to the ramp, grabbing Omega and throwing her inside. Crosshair kept firing with his pistol, you returned fire, but did not hit him. You couldn't hurt him.

--

After the Marauder got into hyperspace, you sat down in Crosshair's room, your shared room. You fiddle with the necklace when the door opens, revealing Omega.

“Hey, are you okay?” The mattress bends a little.

“Yes… no, I’m sad and confused.” You feel tears welling in your eyes but blink them away. Omega looks at your necklace and points at it.

“What’s that?”

You smile softly at her. “It’s an engagement ring.” You chuckle at the confused look on her face. “It’s something that a person gives to someone that they love so much, that they want to spend the rest of their life with them. Crosshair gave this to me.”

“So he loves you and you love him?” The girl scoots closer out of curiosity.

“I love him very very much. I miss him very much too.”

“How did you two meet?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You really want to know?” The girl nods enthusiastically. “Well, it’s actually a pretty funny story. Before I joined the batch, I lived off the grid. When the war started I joined a local militia on Batuu, I was a sniper like Crosshair. Kept innocents safe, took out droids. One day there was a larger group of Seperatist droids causing trouble, I got sent out to look around and take them out.” You look over at Omega and she nods. “Things didn’t go exactly as planned, and a couple of civilians got caught in the middle. A droid was about to take a shot and my rifle had jammed. So I just ran towards it and tackled it. At the same time, someone shot me in the leg. When I looked back, I saw Crosshair standing on a building, all tense. Well, he was grumpy that I blocked his shot and he carried me back to the ship. After I healed up, Hunter offered me a spot on the team. And I’ve been with them ever since.”

The girls eyes widen. “So you’re a sniper too? Can you teach me?”

“Teach you? What, to shoot?” You look at the girl in surprise.

“Yes! I want to help however I can. Can you teach me? Please?” Omega got on her knees and bounced on the bed.

“I’m not the best-” You sigh, “Okay, okay. We can ask Hunter tomorrow.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Omega hugged you, smiling.

“Of course, why don’t you get some rest. You’ve had a long day.” You pat her head. “You can sleep in here until we set something up for you.”

“I’m not tired though.” She could barely hold her eyes open and she kept yawning.

“Sure you aren’t. Come on, bed time.” You pick the girl up and lay her in the bed across from you. You tucked the blanket around her and got up to leave, but she tugged on your hand. “Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“We’ll get Crosshair back, I know it.” She lets go and closes her eyes.

You crouch down and smile softly, “I know we will too, Omega.”

--

Crosshair sits on his bunk, staring at the necklace in his hands. He looks again at the engraving on the ring. O'r gai bal runi.

“What the hell does that mean?” He grumbles and turns the ring in his hand. I don’t remember why I have this. That women… y/n… she had the same ring around her neck. Who is she? Crosshair puts the necklace on the side table.

He rubs his head, furrowing his brows. Fight back! Fight back dammit! Get out of here!

“Shut up already…” Crosshair climbs into the bunk and stares at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

Everything hurts. NO! NO! Don’t let me hurt them again… I can’t hurt my brothers. I can’t hurt her. Y/n, y/n, please don’t leave me. HELP ME!

“Crosshair!” You shoot up from your bed, gasping for air. You look around wildly in the darkness. I heard him. I swear I heard him.

A small voice calls out, “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“I- Yeah, I’m alright, just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep Omega.”

You lie back down in your bed and grab your necklace, moving it around in your hand. We’ll find you Crosshair, we’ll bring you home.

[thebeebi]

your little games pt. 10

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: fluff in later chapters, smut, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 3.3k+ [part 10] 

a/n: Hello hello wonderful people! I am sorry for the long wait! Thank you for wonderful messages for my birthday, I really appreciate it. ♥ I am back with a new chapter for the series after a week. It has been a long wait but I think you might like this chapter because in the last one and in this one we can see Jungkook’s character slowly developing. 

taglist: @njrwifey​ @danietoww04​  @kaithezaftig​​  [If you want to be added, just let me know :)]

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9

You were sitting in the carriage silently, looking out of the window. At that moment, it did not matter that Jungkook was in a mad mood and was watching you. “When did he ask for your hand in marriage?” You did not look at him even though you knew he was pointing that question at you. “After I met you. We knew each other even before.” You answered. Jungkook frowned and was quiet for a while. Once he spoke up, it was evident in his tone of voice, that he was irritated. “Would you have married him, if you were still a virgin?” You turned your head to him looking into his eyes knowing that you should not lie to him. “I have no inheritance. His parents would disagree with the marriage because of it. I would not be able to do so.”

“You are not mentioning love.” Jungkook started slowly. You looked down at your hands that were holding each other. “Love has no place in marriage.” You admitted bitterly. “Marriages are for profits and benefits. The lovers are looking for happiness and love in the green grass. They throw away the caution so they could have each other at that moment. I do not understand them.” Jungkook was watching you. “Now I see… you were never in love before and you were never tempted to feel like that. You are too innocent when it comes to love. You are untouched in that area.” He scoffed. You looked up at him, staring into his eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied quickly. “I am not a virgin. What you are saying does not make sense.” Jungkook laughed at your cluelessness. “It almost sounds like you are asking me to teach you what it is. But that would mean I might make you feel happy but you have to pay for what you and your companion did to me.” You glared at him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.” You looked away while Jungkook was still watching you. “And you are making no sense. I have nothing to do with what they did. Do I have to repeat it for you?”

“Oh please, save it.” He sighed and looked out of the carriage that was slowly going towards the shop of the dressmaker. “I don’t need your lies anyway.” He mumbled but loud enough for you to hear it. “LIES?” You turned your whole body to him, almost ready to jump on him. “Who are you to say that?” Jungkook suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. “Calm down, Y/N. You are having an attitude and I don’t like that.” He warned you. You gulped dryly when he bore his dark eyes into yours. It made you forget the reason you were mad and you looked down. I need to learn how to control myself. “I am sorry.” You whispered. You hated yourself for actually apologizing and that you were such a coward. Any other woman would scream at him, scratch him or in the worst-case scenario, slap him but you could not imagine yourself hurting him, not because you pitied him but because you were worried about what he might do to you.

Jungkook let go of you with a smirk after seeing you apologize and admit the defeat. “You should think before speaking, little one. Otherwise, you will get tired of saying sorry so often.”  You pulled away from him, trying to sit further, in the opposite corner of him. Once you were in a safe distance, you murmured. “It is hard to bite my tongue when you are insulting me.” You sighed and continued. “You are hurting my pride and destroying my self-esteem.” Jungkook cocked his head to the side. “I never said I would not do that. I am not going to let you have any of that.” He looked away from you, watching the world moving from the window. “I told you what you could expect. Did you think I was lying to you?” You shook your head and suddenly a lone tear fell on your hand, followed by the others. You wiped them hastily and Jungkook did not even turn around to see you. He just cursed underneath his nose and pulled out the handkerchief, giving it to you. “There you go,” said Jungkook. “You will need it. And if you intend on crying so often, I recommend you to get your own. It is irritating me that I don’t have mine when I need it.”

“Okay, Jungkook.” You whispered softly, too afraid to remind him that you do not own anything, not even a handkerchief. During the rest of the route, Jungkook was staring out of the window without speaking a word. The carriage was filled with chilling silence and it made you feel even tenser than usually. When you finally arrived, Mrs Dubois was waiting in front of her shop with a huge smile on her lips. Captain Jeon looked like a rich man to her, the type of man who would spend a fortune on his mistresses. Well, that was her first impression of him when he went there for the first time to buy you the dresses you never got to wear before you ran away. To Mrs Dubois, Jungkook looked like a man who knows how to treat his women and since she was still quite young, she knew how to appreciate him. When Jungkook helped you down of the carriage, you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself once your feet touched the ground. He took the cloak off your shoulders and Mrs Dubois looked at the red dress you were wearing. She smiled satisfied, knowing that her work was just made for you and no other woman would as good in this dress.

Mrs Dubois was really curious about the woman when Jungkook was buying such a small dress. She never got to meet you until now. She assumed Jungkook found some kind of mistress and now brought her – you, to her shop. She looked you up and down until her eyes landed on your golden ring. “Madam Dubois, let me introduce you to my wife,” She looked at Jungkook confused but before she could say anything, she stopped herself knowing that it was not the best choice. She heard many of her female clients talk about captain Jeon and how they wished to be in his bed and she honestly wanted that too, never thinking about the possibility of him being married. “Mrs Jeon, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have seen numerous women who wanted to get your husband in their bed, but I gotta say, none of them was as beautiful as you.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows at the unnecessary remarks but continued. “My wife needs a few dresses, madam.” The woman suddenly realised the mistake she made and stepped back looking at Jungkook quickly. “Oui, sir, let’s go inside.“ She was aware that men don’t like to share much about their love life even more in front of their wives but she completely forgot this fact even while looking at the ring on your finger.

The three of you walked inside and you made your way towards the colourful materials that would be later used for making dresses. Jungkook made his way towards the sofa, while she was still staring at you thinking about how petite you were but still elegant and charming. In her eyes, any man would love to get close to you, to touch you, to feel you. No wonder, captain Jeon Jungkook married you. To her, you looked like a match made in heaven. Knowing her place, she sighed and gave up on the thoughts of ever getting close to Jungkook again. She walked towards him, bowing to him while whispering in french since she came from France 3 years ago and opened her shop in this little town. “She is a pure perfection, right sir?” Jungkook was the whole time watching you touching the materials, feeling them wondering how much they would cost you. He did not look back at Mrs Dubois even when she whispered. “Oui, madam. She is heavenly.” Jungkook nodded and spoke in the french back at her.

You turned to both of them, not understanding any of their conversations because languages were not your strongest subject. You weren’t expecting less from Jungkook but him speaking in French surprised you. You sighed and suddenly you realised they acted too close to your liking. To you, it looked like she was just another woman from his list of whores he slept with. You turned and walked to them furiously, mad at Jungkook that he brought you to this shop. When you got too close, the boldness suddenly disappeared and you made a quick turn to the right to look at the easel that was holding the papers with a few sketches of the dress designs. You took it from the easel and started studying it, wanting to distract yourself from the woman and Jungkook behind you. You were looking at the model of the modern dress that had a revealing neckline. Only an easy woman would wear that kind of dress. I don’t like it.

When you finally looked up from the sketch, you found out that there was some strange boy staring at you, who just came into the main room from the small room that was hiding being the curtain. His eyes were hungrily looking you up and down, staying longer on the lowcut neckline of your dress and your bust. Even though you knew you were wearing the dress, under his sight it felt like they were seethrough. He licked his lower lip and started walking towards you. Your eyes widened seeing him and when he started approaching you, you froze in fear. The boy took it as your way of showing him affection, welcoming him. He smiled but it was not his lucky day. Jungkook looked at you noticing the movement in the room and when he saw the young man approaching you, it was the last straw that made Jungkook lose it. At first the kidnappers, then your old love and now this young boy. You are his and not any public spectacle everyone could look at. Jungkook hated whenever other men looked at you.

Jungkook was overtaken by the uncontrollable anger and in a second he was on the opposite side of the room. Once you noticed Jungkook was coming closer, you squealed a little, moving to the side, letting him pass by. Jungkook grabbed the young man’s collar, lifted him from the floor and started shaking him. “You bastard, you dirt from the filthiest ground, I will teach you how to distance yourself from MY wife. Just wait till I am finished with you” Jungkook emphasised the word my through his teeth. The poor man was confused and scared because mad Jungkook was scary even for you but angry Jungkook was something you would never want to meet yourself. You stood there still frozen looking at the situation unfolding in front of you but Mrs Dubois jumped towards Jungkook to grab his hands.

“Sir! Monsieur!” She screamed begging Jungkook to stop. “Monsieur Jeon, I beg you. He is just a child. He did not want to offend you. Please, let him go. I am begging you!” Jungkook took a deep breath and slowly let go of the other male. He still had his jaw clenched. Once he let go of the younger male, Mrs Dubois grabbed the boy angrily and pulled him back behind the curtain cursing at him. You could not see what was happening but a loud slap echoed in the shop and you were sure you heard sobs coming from the boy. You nor Jungkook moved until she came back. “I am sorry, monsieur Jeon,” She bowed and then turned to you. “Madam Jeon, he is my nephew. A stupid child but …” she shrugged and smiled apologetically. “but a pure Frenchman.” She tried to say that was the reason for his action but Jungkook was not having it. He cocked his head to the side staring at the woman who tried to bullshit her way out. Once she noticed Jungkook was not amused by her explanation, she moved closer to you, pulling your hand and making you sit on the sofa, showing you all kinds of sketches of dresses she had.

“Let’s start with materials. I recommend using this one,“ she pointed at the material. “for an everyday type of dresses and then this one,” she pointed at a different kind of material, that was so much softer than the first one underneath your curious fingers. “for special occasions. It is just perfect for your type of skin. It is soft,” The smile you had on your lips while touching it slowly disappeared and you looked away. “It does not matter, madam.” You whispered. “Whatever you pick is fine.” She looked at you confused but then once she met her eyes with Jungkook for approval, she got reminded of how carefully he was choosing material for the undergarment. It had to be the softest sheer silk and it had to be up to his liking. She smiled realising how jealous he is when it comes to you, and she was very well aware of how difficult it is going to be for him when he will have to chase away all of the men that are going to come near you. Your face was showing innocence but also your body was too tempting to resist. She knew Jungkook is going to have a tough time.

“Captain Jeon, could you please take madam to the dressing room so we try on some dresses? I have a few sketches made according to the latest trends.” She turned and disappeared into the back side of the shop. She pulled out the chair asking Jungkook to sit down and then she turned to you. “Madam, if you let me, I will unbutton this and once you take it off, I will measure you.” You did as you were told and the dressmaker started measuring every inch of your body. She told you to spread your arms, to hold your breath and to lift up the soft sating undergarment you were wearing. “Well and now madam, suck in your belly.” Said Mrs Dubois once she put the meter around your hips. You looked at Jungkook who was grinning the whole time and when he noticed your death stares he shrugged satisfied. “I cannot do that.” The woman who was sitting in front of you on her legs was wondering why it was such a problem to do this kind of simple task but then it hit her. She looked up with a smile on her lips. “Madam is expecting a little baby, right?” she asked.

You looked away blushing. “Yes,” The woman turned to look at Jungkook. “That is great! So Monsieur Jeon is a proud dad, right?” Jungkook’s grin grew wider. “Of course, Mrs Dubois.“ She smiled and looked back at you thinking. There is no chance the child is not his. His behaviour and how he admitted that instantly… Well, looks like they are going to be a big family one day. She caressed your belly and stood up. “Well, monsieur, that made me happy. You did not blush nor stuttered when you admitted you were going to be a father. That is good. Very good. No man should be ashamed of what he did.” She looked at you then back at him. “And your wife is going to be the most beautiful, enchanting and charming mother, right monsieur?” Jungkook looked at you and she noticed that his eyes lit up. “Exactly, madam. The most beautiful one.“ He admitted honestly.

Oh, look at him! Though Mrs Dubois with a sigh. He cannot wait to have her in the bed again. The little madam is never going to be without the child in the womb for long. He is not going to get tired of her. Oh, how I wish I could be the one. The woman was thinking about the married couple’s future and how jealous she was of you actually getting him first. “Madam has the body of the goddess. Full bust, narrow middle. She is just made for loving.” You looked down shyly. You felt like a slave that was being sold to some man to offer him pleasure. Mrs Dubois was not talking about the body of just some woman, but yours. She had no right to abase you. You shut your eyes and huffed at her remarks and once you opened your eyes, looking into the mirror, you saw that Jungkook was watching you through it. It almost felt like the time stopped and you could not, nor did you want to move or turn from him. Not even when his eyes moved lower and you were well-aware of his eyes on your clothed breast, you did not move. You knew the material of your undergarment was sheer but you still did not do anything but watch his handsome face.

“I am going to grab the sketches. If your wife wishes to dress up again, I will button her up once I come back,” Said Mrs Dubois and disappeared from the room. You finally moved to grab your dress, breaking eye contact with Jungkook’s face in the mirror. You pulled them up waiting for Mrs Dubois so she could help her, but you looked up once you felt a quick tug on your skirt. Jungkook pulled you closer to him, making you stand in between his thighs. You looked over your shoulder with a slightly opened mouth a wide-opened eyes. Your heart was beating fast, even Jungkook noticed it and laughed a little. “Why are you so scared, my little bunny? I just wanted to help you button them up.“ He turned you around to make you face him and unintentionally your hands went up to cover up your bust. “You don’t need to hide, little one. No one else is going to look at you in here. Only me and my eyes.” You did not breathe because you were scared that if you took a breath your bust would touch his face. He was just too close. “Please,” you whispered. “Madam is going to come back soon,” Jungkook scoffed at your remark. “If you will listen and do so, she will come back to see a loving husband helping his beautiful wife. Or do you want her to see-“ You turned around not letting him continue what he was about to say. Jungkook laughed and while he was buttoning up your dress, Mrs Dubois came back with the sketches. “I brought everything I have. As you will see, you have many to choose from.” The dressmaker cleaned up the small table and put all of her works down. Jungkook sit down and you kneeled down in front of him curiously. Mrs Dubois took that as a cue to push the table closer to you, making you stuck between Jungkook’s thighs and the table.

You started looking through the sketches, falling in love with every one of them but you knew he would not spend such a fortune on you. You stared longingly at one particular dress but then sighed and looked away. “Don’t you have sketches of more simple dresses, more… cheaper?“ You asked the dressmaker. She looked at you surprised and Jungkook straightened up in his chair, placing his hand on your shoulder leaning over to you. “My love, I have enough money to buy you any of these dresses.” He said looking at the sketches. Mrs Dubois exhaled with satisfaction. Jungkook bit his lower lip for a second and then returned to his cold expression. He loved wearing stylish clothes and he is not going to let you – his wife think about money when it comes to buying the new dresses. “I think you are too afraid to spend my money,” his hand slid from your shoulder to your chin. He turned your head to look at him and then softly caressed your cheek. “I will help you pick some if you want.”

Chapter 11

a/n: Well??? What do you think? Did you notice something in this chapter? ANY THEORIES? ♥ I am really curious! I hope you enjoyed it!

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fourteen - “pinky promise”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: bucky and the reader reconvene after the events of the previous night, figuring out what they need to do from there. pinky promises are endearing but they don’t prevent the effects of distressed regret & emotional frustration.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

She awoke with wet regret staining her cheeks. She remembered falling asleep with shame, liquid guilt seeping out of her eyes. Slowly and silently weeping herself to sleep while drunk. What a colossal fucking mistake she made. She felt terrible, and she could only imagine how Bucky felt. She needed to apologize. Immediately.

She found that her shoes were still on when she got out of bed.

"Oh, Christ," she huffed at her messiness.

Regardless, she grabbed a jacket for protection from the chilly Wakandan morning air before rushing to the door, determined to find Bucky as soon as possible and apologize profusely for the previous night.

She opened the door but before she could dash out, she smacked directly into what felt like hard wood. Wait, no. The "hard wood" was a chest, and that chest belonged to a person... it was Bucky. Damn it.

"Sorry!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

They both backed up.

"Y/N..."

"Bucky."

"Can we talk?"

"Yes. Please."

They awkwardly made their way into the room, eventually sitting side by side on the end of her bed. The air was quiet and void of their usual content and lighthearted atmosphere. Both of them sat staring straight forward.

"Bucky, I... I am so sorry about last night. I know being drunk isn't an excuse for being unprofessional, but I really have no other explanation as to why I'd ever do something so inappropriate. I feel awful and I can't imagine how uncomfortable I've made you. I will completely understand if you don't want to work with me anymore. I can talk to Shuri or T'Challa and we can find someone else to take my place if—"

"Woah," he turned to her, slightly alarmed. "Slow down, slow down. Who said anything about replacing you?"

"Well, I just thought after...last night, you'd rather have someone else work with you. It probably wouldn't be wise to continue treatment with me after certain... professional boundaries have been damaged."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

She looked at him bewildered, but he looked dead serious.

Y/N shook her head. "I—"

"Look, I'm not a therapist and I don't know the criteria of your 'professional boundaries'... But you were drunk. It happens. I don't think any less of you because you had a little too much. Believe me, I've been there."

"I know, but it's not necessarily the drinking that was the problem. It was... my actions."

"Right. And I don't think leaning a couple inches is really grounds for leaving Wakanda."

It was more than just "leaning a couple inches," and she knew that. She was humiliated by her drunken errors, but it was seductively dizzying to be that close to him. In the moment, she relished in every second, every atom of hers that was touching him. However, it was the afterthought that was the problem, the realization of what she had done and how wrong it was.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

"I'm not the only good therapist, you know."

"But you're my therapist. I don't want a new one."

"And I don't want to disrupt your progress, but there's no way I can keep treating you after last night."

"Why not? What's gonna happen if you do? Nothing."

"It's not that simple."

"Nobody was here. No one knows but us. There's no way you can get into trouble."

"It's not entirely about getting in trouble. It's about the nature of our relationship and how that change can impact how effectively and ethically I can treat you."

He was quiet for a minute, thinking.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We can work something out..."

"I don't think so, Buck..."

"So you're just gonna leave then?"

"I think that's what needs to happen."

He turned his head to her, making deliberate eye contact.

"Y/N, please."

"All I wanna do is do right by you, and I can't do that after I've compromised our relationship."

"But you didn't compromise—"

"Bucky," she exasperated, "Can you please try to understand?"

"Can you please try not to be so hasty about things? Our relationship is fine. You don't need to leave."

Stubborn. He was being stubborn. But, all she could see was strong will and passion. That was the problem. All his faults morphed into aptitudes when they filtered through her perception.

"I really care about you, Buck. I just want you to have access to the help you need, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if I can be that help anymore."

"Can't we just try?"

"Try what?"

"Just... hear me out. We can continue the sessions as if nothing happened, and if everything is fine, then great, but if not, then you can go."

Is that what it would take for him to be okay with her leaving? Is that what it would take to make her departure less of a complete upheaval? There was no way this would work, she thought. But what were the lengths to which she would go to make the transition smoother? Was she willing to make sacrifices to help ease his hardships? She reflected for a minute.

For him, she would. For him, she considered, she'd do most anything.

"Okay," she said after brief contemplation. "We can try. But you have to keep in mind, the entire time, that I still might have to leave in the end."

He smiled, sincerity almost suffocating her. "Thank you."

"Promise me you won't be disappointed if I end up having to leave."

"You want a pinky, blood oath, or spit shake?" he asked, jokingly.

"Bucky," Y/N deadpanned.

"Well, it's not like we need to promise, because you won't have to leave... 'cause everything will be fine."

God, she hoped so.

"Promise me anyway. Just in case."

"Fine. I promise. You have my word."

She held out her hand to him, pinky finger raised high.

"Make it official."

"You know I was kidding?" he asked.

"I know. But you brought it up, so now you're payin' the price," she smiled, feeling herself momentarily slipping back into their dynamic. "Officially promise me with your pinky, James."

In acquiescence, he lifted his hand up to hers, pinky extended, and wrapped their fingers together. As it turned out, her hand had desires of its own and begged for additional contact. It yearned to smooth over the skin of Bucky's hand and press their palms together. Her hand wanted to intertwine the rest of their fingers and hold on ever so tightly. It wanted to hold on and never leave Wakanda, never leave his side.

As it also turned out, the hand is not the mind. These were surely not Y/N thoughts. Definitely not... Desires were kept repressed and no actions were taken. Sorry hand.

Their fingers stayed connected for just a few brief seconds of silence. Not nearly long enough for it to be awkward or for them to get second thoughts about the integrity of their agreement. Their fingers disconnected.

"So..." Bucky started, "are things gonna be weird now? With us?"

"They don't have to be, but I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know. Whether you're upset with me over what happened - which you have every right to be."

"Upset with you? No! Not at all. It seems like you're more upset than I ever was."

"I'm only upset because of what I did!"

"Well, I'm only upset because you're upset, so... stop being upset."

"I-..." she sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Are we good?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for..."

"Just say we're good."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"Fine, we're good. I'm just surprised at how you're so cool with this."

"Well, friends bounce back quick, right?"

Her demeanor changed. The mood sunk.

"Bucky..."

"No, no. Don't sit there and tell me that now we aren't friends. You just pinky swore with me," he said with a meek smile, attempting to lift her mood back up. "C'mon, that counts for something."

She looked down at her hands, suddenly missing the skin-to-skin contact. "I just think it might be better to be more professional and less... personal."

"Better for who exactly? 'Cause I know it wouldn't be for me."

She turned her head to look at him, face earnest and contrite. He only looked confused and a little mentally disheveled.

"I want to make this new... plan thing work. If you don't want me to have to leave, we have to reinstate some sort of boundaries, Buck."

"So boundaries means throwing away being friends?"

"I'm not throwing it away. I want to make sure we can be successful, and to be successful we have to be a little more..." she took a breath in, hating how much she kept bringing up this word, "professional. We gotta have more good days than bad, you know?"

A few beats of silence passed them by. Bucky's expression softened to a dangerous level of sincerity.

"I think you are my good days..."

Y/N tore her gaze away. She couldn't do this. She wished he wouldn't say such gentle things; she was trying so hard. The tension in her heart began to frustrate her. And it was because of him. She wished her emotions weren't always so escalated in his proximity.

"How long were you outside for?" she changed the subject.

"All night."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. Only for a couple minutes. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

"You really are. And you're uneasy."

Trying to deny feelings was harder when someone else called them out.

"Stop trying to analyze me."

"M'not analyzing. I'm just reading you."

Reading her?

"Reading me?"

"Yeah. You were looking at me, but now you turned away. You're bouncing your leg but otherwise you're completely still, tense, like you are when you're nervous. You're also turned away from me... kinda like you don't wanna be near me."

Yeah, because her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She stood up, walking away from him and his infuriating correctness. How dare he know her like that? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She faced him, arms crossed over her chest, as if shielding herself from his prying efforts to understand her personality. How dare he decipher her.

"Really?" she huffed, amped up nervousness morphing into irritation. "You barely slept last night, and it's not just noticeable because of the bags under your eyes. You do this thing when you're tired - you blink really slowly and then rub your eyes. It's subtle. How's that for reading? Oh, and you're more uncomfortable about having one arm than you let on. When you sit next to me, you always make sure to sit so that your arm is on my side. In fact, you're so bad at tolerating uncomfortable that you refuse to even think about getting a new therapist - even though it's the right thing to do - because you don't want to deal with the change."

She took a breath after expelling her vexation. Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, never before hearing her angry, much less at him.

"That's not why..." he all but whispered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

"Apparently not," he rolled his eyes. "And I thought we made a deal."

"I think you should leave."

He looked up at her. "Y/N.."

She turned away from him, deciding she couldn't handle looking him in the eyes.

Glancing at the door, she muttered, "I'll see you at our next session."

"But— I thought..."

"A deal's a deal. I'll see you, Bucky."

The room was eerily silent until Bucky decided to move. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for something, anything out of her. Perhaps she was hasty, but there was no room for second thoughts, second emotions. She completely steeled herself. Feeling around him was just... a lot. A lot to deal with. Maybe too much.

"Okay," he said, voice quiet. "I'll see you... I guess."

With that, he left. He left her in an empty room with empty feelings and an empty hand. She looked down at that hand, the very same one that wrapped its finger around his in the lighthearted simplicity of a juvenile gesture. Joy with Bucky was like that - simple. Being happy was effortless with him. Yet, it was so troublesome to be displeased with him. She could sense another distressed night sleep coming her way.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lauxrens @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @buckys1thiccbih @maravderofthephoenix

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

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