#my file got dulled out so I had to stop

[emilys-bangs]

I can't read you (but if you want, the pleasure's all mine) | e.p

Tags: flirty!emily, shy!hotch's assistant!reader, fluff, hint of angst?, implied that emily isn't sleeping well :[, worried reader (duh), emily calls reader petnames, emily is down BAD

Summary: Emily loiters around in your office for no good reason.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: I'm not sure if the idea of Hotch's assistant reader belongs to a single person, but I take no credit for it, I got inspired to write my own after reading @/mariasont's absolutely fabulous bimbo!assistant series, so very many thanks to her!! (and if there are any hotch girlies around here go check it out). Alsoo I think I'm probably gonna add a few more parts to this as interconnected oneshots, I had too many ideas and they couldn't all fit into one fic :p

It’s not that your office is hidden; it’s just out of the way. A short walk before the bullpen’s glass doors, on the opposite side of the restrooms. It’s not nestled within the buzz, and yet a single agent flits to it like a moth to a flame, with no reason or purpose behind her frequent visits.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Emily murmurs. She flashes you a smile, genuine but fading as she rests her hip against your desk and leans on it.

“Hi.” You don’t return her smile, too busy examining the bruised shadows under her eyes. A frown pulls your lips downward. “You look tired.”

“Ouch,” she mock winces. “Take it easy on a girl’s ego, will you?”

“I’m serious. Did you sleep okay?”

Something flickers behind her eyes. They’re dark eyes, endless and lovely, but something about them seems dull today. “Slept okay,” she dips her chin in a nod, “as well as I could without you there with me.”

It’s instantaneous, the knot in your tongue. Heat surges above the collar of your button down, the flush creeping up your neck, and Emily’s gaze becomes too much to hold. You drop your eyes to the neat surface of your desk, shifting files around beneath your sweaty fingertips. 

“It’s a big bed,” she continues through her brilliant teeth, gently poking at your composure. “A king. Gets cold easily, y’know? Hey, out of curiosity, do you happen to run hot? I’m freezing most of—”

“Prentiss.”

You both look up to find Hotch at your open door, his mouth set in a straight line—probably at the blatant show of fraternization from his subordinate. Emily grins at him winningly, unabashed as she gives a nod and drawls out, “Morning.”

The stare he gives her is a usual for when she’s leaning against your desk: stop flirting with my assistant. He doesn’t say it, only arches his brow, but everyone hears it.

“Good morning.” His voice is dry. Walking in, his gaze flits to you. “Any urgent cases?”

“N-No sir,” you fluster, cheeks still unbearably hot at the thought of you and Emily intertwined on her bed. Rubbing at your temple, your eyes dip down to the sticky note you’d stuck on your desk in preparation for the day’s tasks. The scrawl of your handwriting sparks competence back into your brain. “Uh, Strauss called again,” you say sheepishly; Hotch’s lips press together, his top lip disappearing, “about the budget meeting. That’s…three times this month?” You tilt your head, grimacing. “I’m starting to worry she’ll barter away the jet soon, save herself the headache.”

Emily lets out a small laugh. “I think letting Morgan go would be more cost effective.” 

She’s not entirely unfair—you’ve filed enough damage reports this month to make the director weep. The corner of your mouth tickles. Emily catches your eyes, lashes feathering over her cheek in a wink.

Hotch ignores her. 

“We’ve only got consults for today, right?” He asks. You nod. “See if we can schedule it today, get it over with. And, uh,” his eyes linger pointedly on Emily, “it’s almost 9.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” she answers for the both of you, drowning out your low, yes sir.

The lumping of you and her in a we makes you pathetically giddy. 

It could possibly be considered rude for you to drop your eyes back to your desk before your boss leaves, robbing him of attention, but he’s already turning on his heel and with the two of them crowding your space, it’s like you’re flayed open beneath their sharp eyes. Profilers, you grumble internally, a small shake to your hands as Emily’s perfume dissolves over you in waves, a product of her coming closer. She’s next to your elbow now, the pale outline of her hand creeping up next to yours.

“Here, honey, let me help.”

You inhale a sharp breath, feeling the cold air drop all the way to the pit of your stomach. “They’re just a few files.” You mumble, gathering the consults and standing clumsily, eager to escape the heat of her body pressing against yours.

It’s a bad move. Your chest bumps into her arm, not hard, but enough to make you sway on your feet. Emily’s other hand is quick to land on your waist, steadily restoring your balance with a squeeze through your cardigan that has your head reeling.

“Careful there,” she says softly. You blink at her, the tired slant of her lashes now almost at eye-level. “Sorry, I was in your way—”

“Are you sure you’re good?” You blurt. Emily’s mouth snaps shut and you hug the files to your chest, looking her over more thoroughly. Minimal, effortless makeup, but there’s a wrinkle in her shirt, creases in the skin under her eyes. It’s not unusual for her to be tired, given the nature of her job, but the lines of her body are more tense than you’ve seen them.

At your question, it’s almost like she coils further into a tight spring.

“Yeah.” Emily says firmly. “I’m good, don’t worry about me. My cat kept waking me up, yelling all night to be let out and then yelling to be let in.” Her mouth twists into a wry smile.

“Sergio?”

“Mhm,” she nods. “He’s talkative.”

Her tone is as convincing as it ever is, buttery smooth and warm. But you don’t believe her. It’s a gut feeling, not something you can explain with any shred of reason; the certainty of it clings to you, so you look into the molten pools of her irises and hold on.

“You can—you, um…” the thoughts scatter from your brain just when you start, possibly the quiet intensity of Emily’s eyes making them flutter out of your skull. But she’s patient. Tilting her head, she doesn’t interrupt your silence, only presses her lips together in a reassuring smile.

The frustration settles bitterly in your gut, but you blow out a breath. Swallow and gather your words with a firm hand. When you finally have a good grasp on them, you look Emily in the eye and speak slowly.

“You could talk to me, you know. About anything. If you’re not sleeping, or—or just if you want to,” you shrug jerkily. “Doesn’t have to be anything, really, but I’m here. For you.” Stupidly, you wish you could reach out, gather the courage to place your hand on her shoulder or curl your fingers around her elbow. Maybe offer a reassuring squeeze, something more tangible than your useless, mumbled words. Emily touches you so much, it should be normal, but sweat slicks your skin at the thought of you initiating.

The arch of her brows softens as she smiles. It takes some pressure off your chest, more so when she loosely cups your elbow. “Thank you.” She says quietly. Her hand squeezes and your eyes skate over her face, searching. “Really, honey, thank you. But I’m fine. Slept late is all.”

Now that you’ve caught her out, she lets you hear the hint of exhaustion in her voice, raspy threads lacing through her words. It makes you wonder what else she hides so easily, exactly how much effort it would take to get her to let her walls crumble and the facade burn down. But she’s already a flighty person, wings flapping if she feels like the walls are starting to close in, so you don’t push further even though you want to.

“Oh. Uh, okay,” you fidget with your sleeve, tugging it further down your hand to dry the sweat on it. A quick flash of your eyes on Emily’s face tells you she’s still smiling, her lips drawn in a gentle curve. You look away again. 

“I just wanted you to know. That you could, if you wanted to. ’bout anything.” The last part comes out as a whisper. You hug the consult files closer to your chest, your eyes dropping to the watch strapped to your wrist. 8:59. “We should go, the team’s—”

“I do know that.” Emily says. Her hand falls away from your elbow, but her eyes fill with so much warmth you hardly feel the loss. “I know it. And I—” The heat of her eyes disappears, seeking something lower than your eyesight before snapping back up again. A confused flurry rips through your gut and she falters, mouth opening and closing. Her lips part again and she finally says, “You could, too. Talk to me about anything.” Sincerity is thick in her voice, her gaze earnest as she stares into your soul. “I hope you know that.”

The back of your throat is briefly dry. A small dip of your chin constitutes a nod; swallowing, you curl your fingers around the edges of the consultation files.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I know.”

When Emily smiles, her eyes brighten the tiniest bit. A thrill goes through you at the thought of igniting it. Your own lips start to curve, but their path is rudely stopped when Emily’s brows tick upward.

“Oops,” she says lightly, her eyes finding the clock above your door. “9:01—” You curse as you look down at your own watch, eyes bugging out at the time. One minute is hardly late, but so far your record with Hotch has been spotless, and you want to keep it that way. 

Emily’s hand needlessly nudges the center of your back. “Let’s go, gorgeous.” She murmurs. You’re already moving, shooting past the open door of your office without hanging back to close it. A distant click tells you Emily does it, and a few more not so distant clicks of her heels on the floor tell you that she hurries to catch up to your gait. You’re still cursing under your breath, preemptively flustered at the thought of walking in late into the conference room, the rest of the team seated and waiting for your arrival. The weight of their eyes on you is already heavy.

“Your fault,” you mumble to Emily without any real heat.

She pulls open the bullpen door for you. You step through. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s just a minute, two tops.” The relaxed drawl of her voice doesn’t make you slow down. “Listen, if Hotch does pull out the death glare just get behind me, yeah? I’ll protect you.”

You finally turn your head and look at her, none too surprised to find her grinning. It makes you falter, feet slowing as you cross the bullpen floor. Stupid heat burns in your cheeks; you look away.

“Shut up, Prentiss.”

“Sorry, babe.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights @professorsapphic

[eclipse-msoul]

"Aren't you an adorable little thing? "

It was a chilling night in every cruel city of Gotham. The shadows had surrounded every street, every corner with a dark tint - not a soul was on the street, well except the vigilantes that protected mother Gotham like her children.

It was getting late, about to strike four am in the early morning. Three vigilantes made their way home. Their footsteps were silent hoping not to wake the innocent woman whose laughter had spread joy into their life.

“ So you've all returned from your night duty…” A familiar quiet whisper and they turned. Blue shocked eyes along with the shade of green turned from wide and alert to warm and relaxed. A sigh escaped the eldest lips. “ Phew, you really scared us there Alfred.”

“ Correction, you got scared, Dickhead.” The second eldest grunted, “ Morning Alfred.”

“ Good morning Master Jason. It seems you finally decided to return early for once.” Alfrd remarked, nudging Jason of his disapproval of staying out of home for so many days.

“ oh, yeah..” Jason stammered, “ Sorry.”

Alfred raised his brow, did the child finally learn to apologize?

Jaosn broke his fantasies into two.

“ It was Dick head's fault!”

“ Jay-” Dick gasped, dramatically, “ How could you!”

“ What Dick got your head- or did your name get your dick? Quit trying to act innocent.” Jason grinned. Oh, Alfred could recognize that smirk anywhere.

The third brother scoated, his body stiffer than anything. His cracking steps caught everyone's attention. Tim let out a yawn, “ I'm going to work on my cases.” Dick and Jason made eye contact, their fight stopping mid way. “ Oh, no you don't you brat.”

Dick came in front of his tired brother and flicked his finger on Tim’s forehead. “ You're heading to bed, little wing.” he said, bending down to his height.

Tim gave his brother an annoyed glance , a sigh came out, “The files aren't going to solve themselves.” Oh, Dick and Jason were not not having it.

“ And you are going to be in an early grave. You want to die so badly? I can make it happen, you know replacement?” Jason spoke. Dick crossed his hand in front of Jason. “ He's right Timmy. You need sleep.”

His blue eyes glanced his younger brother with concern and Tim felt suffocated.

His head turned towards the butler. “Alfred-”his eyes were exhausted, one could make out those terrible black circles that formed over the past days. Alfred gave him an unamused look, “ Off to bed sir.”

“Fine..” Tim grunted, taking off his mask and walking away.

Alfred skillfully caught the tossed mask thrown his way. His eyes were elegant stern, “ Wait.”

Tim's checking feat stops and he looks at Alfred tired. Letting out a yawn, Alfred was not amused. “ Your phone master Tim if you will.” Tim groaned.

“ But-”

“No but sir-”

“Alfred-”

“Master Tim.”

Tim handed over his phone and electronic Jason ratted out to Alfred about. Finally after being thoroughly inspected he could be left alone.

Dick and Jason had gone to their rooms to sleep. Tim didn't want to sleep but his access to the cave was currently in Alfred's hand. He could easily get it but he respected Alfred too much for that.

“ Stupid brothers…” He muffled.

He walked aimlessly through the Wayne Mansion hallways, his eyes glancing up and down the old portraits and artifacts the path decorated. Everything was so out of life, so dull and dread.

He wanted to get back to his work so badly.

“Hmms”

And his feet stopped.

He looked up, and saw himself standing in front of your door. The door was the familiar, warm colour, drawing him in. His head unintentionally came closer and soon it was touching your door frame.

He could make out your snores.

You sounded so peaceful.

" Timmy?" You mumbled half asleep, he his wiped up and he stared daze. Your eyes sinned him from up to down. " Didn't sleep yet ?"

" I wasn't tried."

" Were you?"

He didn't reply.

You sighed under a smile. Tapping on your bed you spoke. " Come here. " He was hesitant but you were always patient with him.

Slowly he made his way to your bed and sat down. Your arm grabbed him neck and pulled him closer. " Goodnight. "you hummed before going back to sleep.

Your hand remained patting on his back. And he felt like he was twelve again - Falling in your arms to a deep sleep.

In the morning, if your favourite chocolates were placed on the table of your bedroom. You definitely didn't send Tim a smile and a big hug.

Giggle-

He could be such an adorable nephew sometimes.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

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

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Seeing Double - Chapter 3

Pairings - Simon “Ghost” Riley x MacTavish!Reader, Platonic! John “Soap” MacTavish x MacTavish Reader, Platonic! Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

Summary - You are sent with Ghost and Soap to Mexico on your first team mission. But was it really your first?

Warnings - consumption of alcohol, mentions of past trauma, discussions of past trauma, jealousy, suggestive content, discussions of violence, adults cursing, angst but comfort I swear.

Author's Notes- Spanish is used bc reader, as a translator, is a #billingual queen but there is an immediate translation right after spanish is used and it is marked by only italicizing, if it's italicized and has 'these' then that's a direct inner thought. To my Spanish speaking readers or bilingual readers, I apologize if I fucked up anything. Im using the Spanish I learned growing up on my dad’s side of the family in Texas and almost 2.5 years of learning Spanish in highschool and college. My Spanish is more South Texas based but I still learned northern Mexican slang from my tíos. Anyways I hope you enjoy. Bear with me because some of the gender wasn’t translating pero es todo bien.

Word Count - 8k.. yeah ik. I’m shocked too.

Masterlist / Pt.1 , Pt.2 , Pt.4, pt.5, pt.6

“In how long?” John spoke, briefly peeking at the mission file.

“A week. I’m giving you time to prepare Banshee for using her translating skills as you’ll be working with Los Vaqueros again.” Laswell nodded to them.

“What for?” You piped up. Everyone turned to look at you, not because you spoke out of turn but because you usually waited for someone to speak to you.

“We have intel that Hassan might be in the mountains nearby Las Almas. You’ll find out more when you arrive. ” Kate responded, respecting your piqued curiosity.

You nodded to yourself. You did need to scrub up on your Spanish even if you were fluent.

The week passed by quick as you hit the books and the range. You had taken the time to bond with Gaz as the man tried to pick up a few languages from you. Price keeps you far from the mats after your blood bath with Ghost. Speaking of him, the masked man was oddly never around. Only there for meal times and maybe a glimpse at him before bed.

You didn’t see him again until the night before you were to be sent out with them to Mexico. You had been so focused on working through your knife throwing that you didn’t realize the time had passed until it was midnight. Six hours until you were to be on an aircraft headed to Las Almas.

Dull thuds filled the room as you sunk your knife again and again into the target. A masked figure passing by the door before stopping.

“Can’t sleep?” Ghost spoke as you retrieved your knives. You nearly jumped out of your skin at his voice, noticing him in the shadows of the entryway.

“Never been able to on the night before a mission.” You omitted as you took your stance again. Anything was better than looking at him. Quiet fell over the both of you as he watched. You could feel him studying you as you ran your drills.

Eager to break the silence, you remembered from Johnny that Ghost was quite the fan of dad jokes so you decided to try them out, “Sir, Do you know what sprinters eat before their race?” You spoke.

He spoke nothing but you got the feeling he was waiting for the punchline.

“Nothing, they fast.” You spoke. He froze for a moment before a sigh of air left his mouth almost similar to a chuckle but not quite. Relief flooded your body at breaking some of the tension. What you were not expecting was for him to give you one of his own.

“What do you call a pig that practices karate?” Ghost’s voice came out low as if he too had been starving himself of sleep.

A beat passed as you gave him a hum of interest.

“Pork chop.”

Ghost froze as the sound of a giggle slipped from your lips. Your shoulders sluggish as you threw the final knife but it still fell in line with the others. You gathered your knives and put them away slowly. You turned to face him only to find the doorway empty.

You didn’t see the lieutenant again until you made your way to the tarmac early the next morning. You had all your gear on from head to toe including a new pair of black shades to cover your eyes. Your hair was pulled up as you adjusted your vest. It weighed heavy on you almost as if the weight of your last team mission was still suffocating you.

Ghost stood off to the side with Price as they spoke with your pilot and Gaz. The masked man nodded to Price, listening but his eyes traced you as you walked up to the aircraft confidently. Something Gaz nor Price failed to catch upon but dismissed it under the idea that the man didn’t trust you yet.

Johnny had already made his way onto the aircraft as he turned around to extend a hand to you. Almost as if he had sensed that you would need a helping hand. You clasped his hand tightly as he pulled you up with a grunt.

Both of you exchanged a smile as the engine of the aircraft roared to life. Wind suddenly pushing through the entryway, sending a chill down your spine.

“Just like old times aye?” Johnny said as he held up a fist bump.

“Aye, just like old times.” You replied as you knocked knuckles, ignoring the growing bubble of worry in your gut. Oh how you hoped it would be different this time. You settled in next to your brother and got ready for the ride.

Ghost noticed how you never fully relaxed even as your twin, your supposed mirror image, Soap fell dead asleep on the flight over to Mexico. You had avoided his eye contact again for the whole plane ride, letting it fall to the floor or rise to the ceiling above.

You constantly adjusted everything even as the three of you left the aircraft. Something was bothering you and your commanding officer itched to know why. What was making you twitch. He felt his curiosity blooming in his chest before letting it die as a gruff voice cut through the air.

“Alejandro!” Soap cheered, a loud clap sounded through the air as their hands met in a firm shake and a quick nod.

“Glad to see you made it over in one piece, Jabón” Alejandro said as his gaze peered over to Soap’s teammate, not failing to notice the third set of feet hidden behind the two men.

Alejandro scanned over Ghost quickly as he spoke, “Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.”

Soap practically lunged at the opportunity to interject, “Colonel, he actually he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.” Ghost cut him off quickly.

“And who is this behind you?” Alejandro said as Soap and Ghost stepped aside to reveal you standing there.

“Aye this is my twin sister-” Soap stopped short as the Colonel pulled you in for a tight embrace. Silencing both the lieutenant and Sergeant completely because you didn’t frown or even flinch at the sudden invasion of your personal space, something completely out of the norm for you.

“Chiqui! Aye qué bueno verte de nuevo!” Little girl (affectionately)! How good to see you again! The spanish slipped free from his tongue as you both separated. His hands lingered on yours as you step back. A small blush on your cheeks.

“Y a ti también. Pero creo que te dije que ya no me llamaras chiqui, no?” And you as well. But I believe I told you not to call me little girl anymore, no? Your eyebrow cocked up at him. A deep rumble leaving his throat as Soap cleared his own to cut through the conversation.

“Alright, Alright. Let us join the others back at the base hermanos!” Alejandro spoke to the group as you all began walking to the vehicle. Out of the corner of the lieutenant’s eyes, he saw the way you and Soap geared up to fight for the front seat, only to be disappointed when Alejandro climbed into the shotgun.

“Welcome to the city of souls, hermanos! A Bienvenidos de nuevo, Chiqui” Welcome back, Chiqui. Alejandro cheered as you all piled into the jeep. Soap took the seat behind the driver, and you slid in the middle, leaving Ghost to take the seat behind Alejandro. For once, you didn’t bristle at being so close to the lieutenant. A soft gasp left the driver as brown eyes met your own through the mirror, even if your eyes were shielded by the dark sunglasses.

“No mames, güey.” No way, dude. The driver interjected as he peered around the seat to see you. Your soft gaze meeting his own shocked one. A gruff noise left Ghost’s mouth to interject the moment and cut it off. This whole thing was starting to get on his nerves.

“Hola Rudy” you smiled. “Lieutenant, this is Sergeant Major Roldofo, everyone calls him Rudy. Rudy, este es mi teniente. Estoy seguro de que no necesitas presentación a Jabón.” Rudy, this is my lieutenant. I am sure that you need no introduction to Soap. Your hand pointing to each man as you introduced them. Your brain easily slid into place as you slipped between the languages.

“Tengo miedo de los fantasmas” Rudy shuddered slightly. Ghost’s head barely turned towards you, waiting for the translation.

“He said he has a fear of Ghosts.” You smiled playfully, shoving Rudy to turn around as you waited for the jeep to go.

“¡Vamos hermanos!” Let’s go brothers! Alejandro said as Rudy’s foot roughly slammed into the gas pedal as the jeep took off. A smile slowly creeped onto your face as you suddenly felt the wind in your hair again. Your shades protect you from the harsh glare of the sun. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be back.

Soap peered out the window as they made their way into Las Almas. Outskirts of the sandy town were covered in graffiti as the houses came into view. Soap suddenly gripped his rifle as Ghost tensed up, both of them spotting a vehicle in the distance and strange men in masks covering the town.

“One black vehicle, about three men armed along the entrance” Soap called forward to Alejandro and Rudy. For half a second Ghost almost cursed at your poor reaction time until he heard Alejandro interject

“Cálmate, hermano. Es todo bien.” Calm yourself brother. Everything is fine. He spoke up, and then followed up with an explanation. “Las Almas is dangerous and the cartel here plays dirty. But I promise you those who are here to ‘uphold the law’ never succeed for long. Not until Narcos slips money into their pockets and women into their laps.”

“What about the military?” Ghost spoke out. His confusion masked behind a voice of concern.

“Es lo mismo. We’re even more likely to be corrupted and turned into working for the narcos because of our combat skills.” It’s the same. Alejandro nodded to the men ahead as he spoke.

“So why haven’t you been corrupted yet?” Ghost responded almost immediately. Just because you and Soap trusted these men doesn’t mean he has to. He only trusts you through an association of Johnny.

Alejandro knew why he asked but it didn’t stop his tongue from clicking as he responded. Pride swelled in his chest as he spoke. The honesty of his voice silenced any doubt. “We grew up here. The locals call us Los Vaqueros, the cowboys, for a reason. Anyone who calls himself or herself such a name and fights beside me is willing to die for the sake of saving even an inch of this city.”

Soap could see the love the man had for his community as they passed by women and children on the street. He silently wondered why they looked so happy in such a dangerous town. Did they not know what was going on?

“Be weary of the civilians. Yes we are welcoming of strangers but just remember that anyone can be turned into a piece of intel for Narcos. They can be quite.. charismatic.” Rudy spoke to the men.

“Even the children and women?”

“Especialmente las mujeres y los niños.” Especially the women and children, Rudy responded almost immediately.

Ghost nodded as Rudy hummed in agreement as they pulled up closer to the base. You were oddly silent as you took in how the base has evolved. Rudy pulled up to the gate and only had to look at the officer before being let in. You noticed how the sun was beginning to turn the sky orange. You missed how beautiful it was here. The heat not even bothering you as the open windows of the jeep gave your baby hairs around your face a beautiful framing. For just a mere moment you could forget why you left.

The sound of a car door opening pulled you out of your thoughts as Ghost and Soap quickly exited the vehicle. Everyone grabbing their respective bags. Rudy quickly matched your pace and stood to the left of you as Soap walked on your right.

“Veo que sigues siendo la boca de tu escuadrón, Chiqui” I see you’re still the mouth of your squadron. Rudy smiled before slipping into spanglish, “Do either of los güeros speak spanish, or sola tú?” Either of the white boys (like fair-skinned) speak spanish or just you? You could tell why he wanted to know but kept your mouth shut as you nodded to your brother.

“Mi hermano puede placticar un poco, pero solo lo sabe las palabras malas.” My brother can conversate a little, but he only knows the bad words. You responded as you glanced at Johnny. Noticing how he looked a little down.

Johnny’s heart sunk a little in his chest. Just how much of your new life had he missed? How did he not know that you had already met them and formed these close ties. You pulled him out of his thoughts as you ruffled his hair.

“So Jabón, why didn’t you tell me that you were related to Chiqui here, hm?” Rudy spoke, “we could’ve traded stories about her”

“I didn’t keen ye knew ‘er like tha.” Johnny said, suddenly meeting the Sergeant Major’s eyes, “How do ye know ‘er?”

Memories flashed across your eyes as you remember how you met the Mexican task force. How you came here stumbling around like a lost child when you were first assigned. The sounds of music flooding your ears as images of you dancing with a certain brown eyed man flashed across your eyes. The late night steak outs and the embarrassing moments of learning how Spanish is truly spoken and used. The images stopped and memories turned sour as you then remembered why you left, or why you were dismissed.

“She was assigned as our translator and infiltration specialist,” Rudy nodded, then he smiled as he jested a little, “Colonel over there thought it might be hard for military men to lure secrets from men as we are not their usual type. So we decided we needed someone more.. convincing. But we couldn’t trust any woman in this country so Alejandro sent a request to the Americans, and your sister showed up.”

“They were my first team after I stopped requesting solo missions.” You added on. Soap sighed at the notion that you were used to be bait for the corrupt men of this town to slip their secrets into. A silence fell over the group until you three walked into the living quarters of the base.

“Why do you and the colonel call her Chiqui?” Soap then turned to ask. His accent loosely stumbled around the nickname even if he said it confidently but he didn’t care. His curiosity bugged him. Sure, you’d let superiors walk over you but giving you a nickname was entirely different. It was intimate. Something he didn’t know you could do with others outside of the family or your small circle of friends.

Rudy’s eyes met yours, asking for permission to tell. You blinked slowly, even unsure of the action yourself.

“She didn’t have a callsign by then and kept on speaking Spanish like a little kid. Mumbling over her words, speaking quickly, and using basic phrases, too scared to be more complex. It was cute and Chiqui is short for Chiquita. Chiquita means little girl, but it’s friendly.”

“The name stuck even after I improved my spanish during my stay here.” You added ruffling up Rudy’s hair.

“You’d always be the kid on the team, Chiqui.” Rudy smirked. “Let’s get you settled into your quarters and then maybe you three would like to join us at the bar?” He was inviting you two but specifically met your eyes first then glanced at Johnny.

Ghost had disappeared off somewhere with Alejandro, probably forming a plan for tomorrow.

“Jabón, you’ll be down the hall with El Fantasma” Ghost. Rudy said as he walked the man down to the room and Soap walked through the entrance, dropping his bags quickly.

“Johnny ye coming tonight?” You looked at him and waited for him to say something

“Ye ever known me to be a lad who turned down a good time?” Johnny shot back at you.

“Never.” You nodded

“Then ye have your answer. I’m going to shower.” He said and closed his door but not before smiling at Rudy.

Rudy nodded as the door closed and he turned to you, walked you to your room, a few doors down the hallway.

“Dormirás en esta habitación” You’ll be sleeping in this room. Rudy nodded. You sighed as you opened it and recognized it as your old room. You saw how it had been scrubbed clean and bare for newer members but you knew it was yours as Rudy’s room was just across from it. Your doors mirror each other. You turned around to meet his gaze and sighed.

“Rudy..” the low whine left your lips as you frowned at him, your eyes tightening to form a glare at the man.

“Chiquita, Te prometo que estaba fuera de mi control. El coronel insistió en que durmieras aquí.” Chiquita, I promise you that it was out of my control. The Colonel insisted you sleep here. His hands flailing to his defense even with that small, guilty smile plastered onto his lips. Your firm mask slipping at the weight of your full nickname.

“Pero Johnny-” but Johnny-

“Jabón estaré bien.” Soap will be fine. Rudy finished the sentence off. His eyes scanning yours. Your name, your real name, fell from his lips as he looked at you. You finally dropped your mask as he enveloped you in a hug.

Over the course of your two years with the team, Rudy had been your best friend, your safe haven. Even if you blurred the lines at some moments you could always count on him to be there for you. Whether that was a lover in a moment of need or a listening ear when the world weighed too heavy to bear alone. He was your best friend, no matter how blurred that line became towards the end.

His warm muscular arms dug into your sides as he held you. A moment between you passed as your arms found his neck.

“Pensé que te habías ido para siempre. El coronel pensó lo mismo. He estado tan preocupada por ti, Chiqui. Lamento no haber ido contigo ese día. Pensé que no querías estar cerca de nosotros después de lo que sucedió.” I thought you were gone forever. The colonel thought the same thing. I've been so worried about you, Chiqui. I'm sorry I didn't go with you that day. I thought you didn't want to be around us after what happened. His words came out softly, the pain evident in his voice.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, a deep sigh passing through you.

“Nunca podría odiarte, eres mi mejor amigo. Nada cambiará eso. Lo que pasó no fue tu culpa, Rudy.” I could never hate you, you are my best friend. Nothing will change that. What happened wasn't your fault, Rudy. He knew that deep down but hearing it from you helped ease some of the weight still burdening him even now.

“Do they know?” He whispered as he pulled back. The man watching you as your brows furrowed.

“About what”

“Lo que pasó, contigo, con nosotros, con esos malvados bastardos.” What happened, with you, with us, with those evil bastards. Your body froze a little at it all, the memories rushing back to your head.

“No. Se lo diré a los chicos y a Johnny cuando esté listo.” I will tell the boys and Johnny when I am ready. Rudy sighed and sat on your bed while you grabbed your bags, and then a thought crossed his mind.

“So you have a callsign?” Rudy said in English as he watched you unpack. His eyebrow quirked up at you.

“Me llaman Banshee, como la mujer” They call me Banshee, like the woman. The name made him tense up. The realization of the legend hit him, the symbolism, and his expression changed

“Hijole” Fuck/Jeez. He grumbled as the shock washed over his face. “Pinche cabrón” fucking asshole. The man didn’t have to do rocket science to know exactly who gave you that callsign.

His eyes flashed over in anger as he too remembered it all. His memories of your spine-curling screams suddenly whisper into his ear as his brain flashed the images of how scared you looked. How much fucking blood you were covered in-

“Rudy. I am fine, I actually like it, it’s..” your eyes searched for the word but he beat you to it first.

“Chingón,” he murmured as he stood up, "Badass.”

You nodded as he smiled at you, the man heading for the door. “¿Sálvame un baile, Chiquita?” Save me a dance? He questioned you with a knowing look, already predicting your answer.

You nodded as you shot back, “si el coronel no los roba todos primero” if the colonel doesn’t steal them all. You smiled knowing deep down that you’d give him a dance anyway.

“Si todavía puedes bailar, eso es, Chiqui” if you can still dance, that is. He shot back, trying to goad you like he used to do. Only to be met with your door closing in his face and a muffled giggle coming from behind it.

Rudy’s hair stood on the end of his neck, the chuckle dying in his throat, as he peered down the hall to see a certain blue-eyed Lieutenant watching him closely.

“Pinche Fantasmas” fucking ghost. The man muttering a curse under his breath as he turned in and walked into his own room.

As the sun laid low in the sky, the four men were waiting next to the jeep. Everyone was in civilian clothes to various degrees but all men were cautiously armed.

Ghost looked the most out of place out of all of them as he was in all black from his combat boots, to his pants and his top, his balaclava stuck to his face like a second skin. All of them had obvious hand guns in various places on their body.

Soap was in combat boots as well but more dressed for the sandy weather. He was in some jeans, a nice cool t-shirt, the chain of his dog tags peeking out at his neckline.

Alejandro and Rudy were both respectively dressed in a distinct style with square toed cowboy boots, and slightly baggy jeans that fluffed out at the bottom in a boot-cut manner. Their boots looked worn down over time. Both men were ready for a good time before the hell of a mission tomorrow.

“So why are ye dressed up like it’s a party tonight?” Soap questioned the two men curiously.

“Because everywhere there’s a bar, there’s music and where there’s music-” Alejandro was cut off suddenly but your voice.

“There’s dancing” you finished the sentence as you stepped into view of the four men. This was the first time Ghost had seen you in civilian clothes and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t letting his eyes rake over you a little slower than normal. You had obviously packed with suspicion of the boys dragging you out.

You had black square toed cowgirl boots tucked underneath a beautiful pair of boot-cut blue jeans. A black belt held it up at your waist and a tight black tee pulled at your chest. Your hair was cascading down your back in it’s usual manner, you had obviously styled after your shower. You were covered in your usual assortment of jewelry, your sunglasses long gone. Glittering up at him like a jewel just barely out of his reach.

“Jeez, Sis, did ye even have a place to hide your weapons?” Johnny teased as watched his fellow men admiring you in silence.

“A woman doesn’t strap and tell” You said with a wink, your own heart pounding a little under all the attention.

“Vamos!” Let’s go! Alejandro called out as everyone got in the car. Everyone returned to the spots they took on the ride over. Rudy roared the jeep to life as he pulled out. Purposely putting a hand on the back of Alejandro’s seat to peer around to look at you and give you a grin.

Now that Ghost was closer to you, he noticed a jagged scar over your right eye, stopping just short of reaching your eyelids. It was violent and looked like it caused permanent damage and yet that only intrigued him more. He never noticed it before as he assumed you wore contact on that eye around base to hide it since sunglasses were not allowed in every room unlike Ghost’s facial coverings.

“Chiqui, blocking my view-”

“Yo sé.” I know. You clipped as you suddenly bent over. Your belt keeps your jeans down as your shirt rides up. You made your back horizontal as your hips slightly arched to make it comfortable as you completely moved out his rear window.

Ghost swears he tried to look away but his eyes were glued to your back, noticing the way your hips wiggled a little to get comfortable. Your tight black tee riding up your back as your hair fell forward a little to reveal the delicate skin underneath the cloth. Just under the hem of your tee he spotted two identical scars.

However, Rudy finally finished backing out and turning around the jeep. So your back snapped back up into place and met the back of your seat. Your shoulders gently brushing his own and Johnny’s.

.

Speaking of proximity, when Ghost took a deep breath to remind himself of his own boundary with you, the scent of your perfume invaded his senses. He swears he could smell every step of your routine from your shampoo to your lotion to that intoxicating perfume.

“Fuck yer stinking up the damn car. How am I supposed to bring home any ladies tonight if yer stink is rubbed all over me.” Soap whined softly.

“You can’t bring back women to the base anyway, Jabón.” Rudy said with a laugh at the Scotsman's dismay.

Soap was curiously looking at you for an answer so you decided to explain, “it’s the night before our mission so you shouldn’t be sleeping around, and any woman you sleep with here could be an informant for Narcos.”

A frown fell on his face as Alejandro spoke up in an attempt to console his fellow man, “You can still dance and flirt with them all you want. Just remember Jabón, anyone can work for the cartel.”

Ghost nearly rolled his eyes as he peered out the window at the setting sun in the horizon. The last thing they needed was a tipsy sergeant.

His wishes fell on deaf ears as they arrived, you and Rudy hitting the bar to order rounds. The masked giant suddenly took in the entire bar as they entered. Loud norteño music filled the air as did the laughter and the roaring conversations. People stared at him but not before failing to meet his gaze leaving him alone. He also scanned over to see the groups of men and women dancing in pairs.

The couples were so close, especially to him, embracing in a hold on their left side as their right hands interlaced and the men led their partners in dance. Chest to chest and heads right next to each other. Pairs of women being spun around in rhythm to the faster-paced music. Their legs intertwined as the knee of one man’s leg went in-between the woman’s own two. He also didn’t miss how occasionally the women were lifted up and then grinded down onto the thigh of the partner quickly before being put back down and spinning again.

“Do you know how to dance, Fantasma?” Alejandro asked the man, trying to make conversation. The three men piling into a corner booth with a full view of the dance floor.

The man shook his head as Soap answered for him.

“L.T. here has two left feet when it comes to dancing.” Johnny grinned as he said that. Johnny himself also noticed the dancing, the proximity, the rhythm.

“And what about you, Jabón?”

“I can dance but not like that.” Johnny responded, gesturing casually to the couples. Alejandro chuckled for a moment at his honesty.

“Your sister thought the same, you know, then we taught her and by the end of her stay, she would be the one dragging us to dance instead of the other way around.”

“What caused her to leave? I understand that she was pretty close with you after two years.” Johnny said curiously. Alejandro paused, trying to find a way to avoid answering, taking notice of how her own twin brother didn’t even know the circumstances.

Luckily, he didn’t have to avoid answering as you came back to the table victoriously. You and Rudy are holding ice cold bottles of beer with limes stuck in the rim to cover the opening. He also noticed the shot glasses of tequila on a platter.

You passed Ghost and Johnny each a beer, both thanking you as you handed out shots as well. Ghost gently pushed his shot back, to which you cocked an eyebrow but didn’t bother. Gleefully taking the extra shot before your brother could snag it.

“Salud!” Cheers! You, Rudy, and Alejandro said as the beer bottles held by the boys and your tequila glasses clinked together. The lieutenant’s hand shooting up to lift his mask just above his lips, the top one still slightly swollen from your move on the mat a week ago. Ghost’s eyes held your own for a mere second as he sipped his beer before you broke his gaze to take the shot. Everyone began consuming their drinks, and taking their own shot of tequila. Except for Ghost, he was watching you take his shot.

Your wet, pink tongue flickered out to wrap around the rim of the glass and lick the salt off, before shooting the clear liquor past your lips, then your glistening lips enveloped the lime and sucked out its juices. You repeated the process for the second shot as well, failing to meet his gaze. Ghost felt his pants grow just a little tighter as he watched the entire routine.

He quickly tensed up realizing what he had done before glancing to everyone around the table. The man was eternally grateful for the mask as he felt his cheeks dust. Rudy and Soap deep in conversation about different beers around the world as he breathed a short sigh of relief. Your gaze on two men arguing over something as silly as piss water.

‘Idiot. You’re lucky nobody noticed.’ The man internally chastised himself again.

Alejandro then stood up and looked at you, “quieres bailar, Chiqui?” Want to dance? Alejandro’s hand shooting out to take your own.

“Can ye manage without a translator for a while?” You said, your gaze directly pointed at Soap.

“Aye, ye have fun, sis. But not too much.” Soap said with a wink as he pushed you and subsequently Alejandro away from the table. Sure he didn’t want to see his sister grind on a comrade’s thigh or any person’s thigh for that matter but you were a grown woman, and obviously you trusted the Colonel.

“Vamos a bailar, Ale” Let’s go dance. You said as the man joined you on the floor. His strong hand embraced your own gently as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His arm quickly found your lower back. He smiled at you as you both began spinning. The liquor made your skin buzz just barely as the music practically thrummed through your veins. You ignored the feeling of eyes on you as you assumed it was just the locals watching you dance with an infamous vaquero. Some of the older locals recognized your face from your time here before.

However they weren’t the only pair of eyes on you as you danced. Ghost slowly sipped his beer as the sounds of your giggles cut through the crowd. Your lips moved as did Alejandro’s as you murmured to each other while dancing. The man is unable to decipher any of it due to limited vision of your lips, lack of knowledge for the language, and the distance. He couldn’t help but wish things were different.

‘What the hell were you doing to him.’ He thought as he focused on Soap and Rudy. The two grown men laughed and caused a commotion as they shifted to battle stories.

The night continued on as more beers were ordered. You finally sauntered back over with Alejandro in tow.

“Rudy, agh. Ayudame.” Help me. Alejandro groaned as he made it to the table, playfully teasing you. You held two more shots in hand as well as fresh beer for the boys.

Soap recognized the command and looked worried for a moment until your quip came back as you pushed him into the booth just as Rudy rose to the occasion.

“Me invitaste a bailar. No es mi culpa que seas un viejo.” You invited me to dance. It’s not my fault you’re an old man. You rolled your eyes before translating. “Ale here forgets that his knees are getting rusty and he wants to blame me.”

“Ale?” Soap said with an eyebrow quirk which you answered with a look alone.

“Te respado, Ale.” I got your back, Ale. Rudy said as he bumped your hips with your own. “Chiqui, tú sabes que no es agradable pegar a un viejo.” Chiqui, you know it's not nice to bully an old man.

You shot the Sergeant Major a look as Soap, Alejandro, and Ghost took the fresh beer bottles from your hand. Your cheeks thrumming with a slight flush of warmth from the liquor coursing through your body.

“You sure you don’t want to take a break?” Soap looked up with concern.

“Oh she’s just getting started unfortunately.” Alejandro chuckled at you as you shared a shot with Rudy. The two of you walked off together, laughing as you shoved each other.

Ghost was suddenly washed over a feeling of jealousy as he watched you dance with your old teammate. Your hips grinding downward onto his thigh in perfect rhythm each time he lifted you up. A laugh leaves your lips as the man whispers things in your ear, his hand resting low on your back. In truth, Rudy was just constantly pulling down the back of your shirt to avoid your scars being revealed. A warmth blooms in your chest as you recognize the habit. But Ghost didn’t see it as that, how could he?

Why was it that you were so comfortable taking the mask off with these men when he had to force it out of you in a spar. Johnny even had to take a moment with you for you to soften up with him again and he is your own family.. What was so trustworthy about these men? Sure you spent two years with these men, bled with them, drank with them, you did it all. But you were his teammate, a member of his task force, not theirs, not anymore. All of these thoughts flooded his brain as he unknowingly gripped his beer tighter, his brows furrowing. Is Rudy the reason why you looked so stressed to come here? You just couldn’t bear the idea of your new team seeing how good you had it with your old one?

Johnny knocked his shoulders against Ghost to snap him back to reality.

“So how did you two manage to get so close to my sister? I haven’t seen her this carefree in a while.” Soap questioned. He hadn’t seen you this carefree since before you started being sent on missions abroad. That’s what he meant to say, but bit his tongue carefully.

“She learned to trust us just as she did you” Alejandro answered calmly as he sipped his beer. The cold beer easing the fiery ache in the older man’s body. Alejandro’s answer irked Ghost but he didn’t show it.

That’s the problem. You didn’t trust him. Sure you trusted Johnny but that’s your family. He’s your commanding officer, your superior, you’re in his care and yet you act like he’s going to suddenly snap whenever he’s around. You can barely hold his gaze or be close to him, meanwhile you can grind on your old teammate without any care and practically share the same breaths of air like it was the only oxygen left.

“And Rudy is the same?” Soap quirked up an eyebrow. Ghost listened closely and watched the Colonel. Alejandro let out a deep chuckle at the question as if a joke was said.

“Rudy and Chiqui are different from Rudy and I. I mean they’re different. Sure, Rudy is my right hand man but Chiqui spent a lot of time with him. They always had each other's back. I mean they used to leave base just to go dance alone at the bar after every mission. He taught her everything. I used to catch them staying up late practicing her Spanish as she taught Rudy how to throw knives. Then I would have to send them to bed and make sure they didn’t follow each other back to the same room.”

“How is that different?” Soap said, “I assume you also taught her something.”

“There’s a phrase we use to describe friends like them. Un amigo es el que intenta levantarte cuando te has caído. Si no logra levantarte, se acuesta a tu lado para escucharte” Alejandro paused. He translated first, having momentarily forgotten the Mactavish twins weren’t completely the same, and then continued his train of thought.

“A friend will try to get you on your feet when you fall. If he fails, then he will lay down on your side and listen to you. Chiqui went through a lot here, especially with this being her first team. She should’ve been sent to somewhere that could ease her into the fire. Instead she was thrown in like a rag doll. Rudy helped her adjust and they became close. I can confidently say they were best friends through and through.”

“Ye dinnae ken me Colonel. I’m asking if my twin has had any history with yer man.” Soap finally said, his look getting serious. Alejandro nodded, finally understanding what the shorter man was getting at.

“Jabón. Under the hot desert sun that plagues Las Almas, even the most clearly drawn lines in the sand can become easily brushed over. Now what your hermana tells you is her business, not mine. She may not be my soldier anymore or under my care, but I will still respect her boundaries. So if you want to know so badly, ask her.” Alejandro said, a serious look appearing on his face as well. The sergeant loosened up on his questioning. Soap could understand why everyone respects the man so much. Soap let out a deep sigh as he peeked at you and Rudy still dancing together. He turned his head back to the table and took notice of the grip Ghost had on his beer. Alejandro following the Scotsman's gaze.

“Todo bien, Fantasma?” All good, Ghost? Alejandro murmured, the two men looking up at him.

“Yeah, I just need a smoke break. Johnny could you scootch-”

“Yeah I got ye.” Johnny said as he let the older man out. Even the nosy sergeant knew not to push his lieutenant when he was this bothered. As Ghost walked out, quickly popping a cigarette and a light into his hands right as he passed through the entryway, exiting into the night.

You noticed Ghost leaving and faltered a step. Rudy noticed and gave you a look. His hand momentarily tightening on your back then relaxing.

“¿Qué pasó Chiqui?” What’s wrong? He whispered into your ear before noticing the way you faltered. The man silently prayed that you were finally done, but a realization passed over his face as he noticed the absence of the lieutenant.

“No pasa nada.” Nothing You responded quickly.

“Ah. El Fantasma.” he chuckled in your ear, a knowing tone to his voice.

“Cállate Rudy. No te metas en algo que no está ahí” Shut up, Rudy. Don’t interfere in something that isn’t there.

“Pero es la problema. No?” But that’s the problem, no? He shot back.

“Rudy.” You spoke roughly, your tone clearly drawing a line.

“Bien, como dijiste que no pasó nada” Fine, just like you said nothing happened. He said, dropping the subject just as fast as it came up. “Pero siempre puedes hablar conmigo, como en los viejos tiempos” But you can always talk to me, like old times.

“Ya no podemos ser como en los viejos tiempos. Solo somos amigos. Ambos estuvimos de acuerdo con eso antes de que sucediera.” We can't be like old times anymore. We're just friends. We both agreed to that before it happened. You whispered in his ear, a saddening note was attached to how you spoke.

Suddenly the liquor turned sour into your stomach and the ache of being on your feet for so long finally got to you. You slowly pulled back from the man with a look, both of you knowing that you were done for the night.

The man nodded, immediately understanding but a part of him ached at your allusion to the incident. He knew what incident you were referring to. That incident when they let you slip through their fingers like the sand that blows through Los Almas. The one time they couldn’t fail and they did anyway.

“Chiqui, siempre estaré aquí para ti” I’ll always be here for you. He said as you both removed yourselves from each other and walked back to the table.

“Yo sé, Rudy. Y siempre estaré aquí para ti” I know, and I will always be here for you. You nodded back.

“Finally done?” Soap smiled at you, knowing that tired look you had on your face. “I hope it was worth it.” He teased you.

“Oh it was worth it.” You nodded, “¿Estamos listos para salir?” Are we ready to leave? You questioned the men with a sigh.

“Finally. I was praying you’d let up soon.” Alejandro said as you all made your way out the door. Even as the moon was high in the sky, everyone could feel the fatigue ache into their bones.

Your eyes immediately scanned for Simon. The man illuminated in the moonlight as he stood next to the jeep. His cigarette long squished out into the ground below.

The ride back to base was silent. Ghost peered down at you as you held his gaze. Neither of you spoke as you took a moment to stare into his glaring blue eyes. You couldn’t understand what ruffled the man’s feathers but you wouldn’t press him.

A soft whine escaped your lips as you walked back to your room. Johnny followed in suit as he went into the room. Ghost stood outside the door, allowing his sergeant time to change and decompress. Ghost knew that Johnny was worried about you and his conversation with Alejandro eased some of his worries while heightening others. Just as he was about to turn in, he noticed a light was on in the room across from yours. He slowly stalked over to the door, standing right beside it and focusing in on the two voices.

“Estoy preocupado por ella, Ale. Ella se niega a abrirse a su teniente. Incluso su hermano no conoce la historia completa..” I'm worried about her, Ale. She refuses to open up to her lieutenant. Even her brother doesn't know the full events.

“Lo sé, Rudy. Pero lo que ellos saben es asunto suya. Quiero decir, si estuvieras en su posición, ¿serías diferente? Le tomó semanas abrirle a ti y luego, justo cuando mejoró, le fallamos. Ella estuvo atrapada aquí durante una semana con esos malvados bastardos. ¿Sabes las cosas que le hicieron? ¿lo que la hicieron hacer?” I know, Rudy. But what they know is their business. I mean if you were in her position, would you be any different? It took her weeks to open up to you and then just when it got better, we failed her. She was stuck here for a week with those evil bastards. You know the things they did to her? What they made her do?

“Sé exactamente lo hicieron. Yo estuve allí! ¿O has olvidado quién entró primero en esa habitación? Quién escuchó su gritos durante horas hasta que nos dieron permiso para entrar? ¿Quién llevó su cuerpo ensangrentado de vuelta a la enfermería? ¿Quién se quedaba junto a su cama todas las malditas noches porque se despertaba gritando como si nunca saliera de esa habitación? ¡Lo hice! ¡Lo hice todo! Yo estaba allí para ella cuando nadie más estaba. ¡Ni siquiera podías mirarla o estar en la misma habitación que ella! Tú eres el que dejó que ese General la robara de vuelta. ¡Sabías exactamente ese General que haría con Chiqui y sin embargo dejaste que sucediera.”

I know exactly what they did to her. I was there! Or have you forgotten who entered that room first? Who listened to her screams for hours until we were given permission to enter. Who carried her bloody body back to the infirmary? Who stayed by her bed every damn night because she would wake up screaming as if she never left that room? I did it. I did it all! I was there for her when no one else was. You couldn't even look at her or be in the same room as her! You're the one who let that General steal her back. You knew exactly what that General would do with Chiqui and yet you let it happen.

“Baja el tono, sargento mayor. No me viste detenerlo. Lo intenté. Pero él fue por encima de mí, a nuestros superiores.” Lower your tone, Sergeant Major. You didn't see me stop him. I tried. But he went above me, to our superiors.

“¿y qué hubiera pasado si hubiera sido Valeria en lugar de Chiqui? ¿te habrías esforzado más?” And what if it had been Valeria instead of Chiqui? Would you have tried harder?

He recognized the voices as Rudy and Alejandro but he couldn’t decipher it. All he knew was that they were talking about you. There was a long pause, something was said lower but Ghost couldn’t pick it up.

“Su hermano me interrogó sobre ti, mientras ustedes dos bailaban.” Her brother interrogated me about you, while you two danced.

“¿Jabón? ¿Qué quería saber?” Soap? What did he want to know?

“Tú relación con su hermana.” Your relationship to his sister.

“¿qué le dijiste?” What did you tell him?

“La verdad.” The truth.

“¿Todo?” All of it?

“No todo, pero algunas cosas están muy claras.” Not all of it, but some things are very clear.

“¿Como lo que?” Like what?

“Le dije que algunas líneas se difuminaron, pero sobre todo que eras su mejor amigo. También le dije que lo preguntara a ella porque el necesitaba escucharlo de ella, no de mí.” I told him that some lines were blurred, but mostly that you were her best friend. I also told him to ask her because he needed to hear it from her, not from me.

A deep sigh was heard as Ghost got closer to the door.

“¿Es por eso que Fantasma se fue?” Is that why Ghost left? The masked lieutenant tensed up at the mention of his name in spanish.

“Sí.” Yes.

“¿Quién está siendo metiche en mi puerta?” Who is being nosy at my door? Suddenly a pair approached the door. And it swung open, but Ghost was already gone.

“Rudy?” Alejandro spoke as he walked past the shorter man, standing in front of the entryway as Rudy stepped back into his own room.

“¿Mande?” yes/come again?

“Creo que ahora tienes una razón para temer a los fantasmas” I think you have a reason to fear ghosts now.

Author’s note - The girls are fiiiighting. I know I know. Lots of questions, and all will be answered in the upcoming chapters. I’m sorry I couldn’t resist reader being close with Los Vaqueros AND me getting an excuse to practice my Spanish. As always - I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all welcome!

My requests are open! Feel free to drop by and ask questions!

Masterlist

[lexawritex]

YO! love your writting! i want to request, if you can't write it, it's okay! no pressure. I request mean wonyoung x manager reader, where the reader must do and get everything she want. Unfortunately for the reader, she make some mistake and wonyoung make sure to teach her a lesson. (Smut or not is up to you) thank you...

—punishment

★ after a mistake, wonyoung punishes you in her own ways

⚠️ slight smut, degradation

pt.1 , pt. 2 [ a/n: omg thank you so muchhh! and im so so so sorry if this took too long! i got so busy with life that i forgot tumblr existed but here i am now. ]

being jang wonyoung’s manager was no easy task. every detail had to be impeccable—perfectly organized, flawlessly executed, and absolutely mistake-free. even the tiniest slip wouldn’t go unnoticed by wonyoung.

jang wonyoung was the embodiment of perfection, and that meant everything around her had to be just as flawless. she was a perfectionist—picky, meticulous, and utterly unpredictable.

that’s why you trained yourself to anticipate her needs, executing every task flawlessly. so perfectly, in fact, that wonyoung trusted you—something she rarely did.

however, perfection isn’t always attainable. when you accompanied wonyoung to get her measurements, exhaustion clung to you. with only an hour of sleep and the onset of a cold creeping in, your body begged for rest.

your eyes kept fluttering shut as you stood in the corner, struggling to stay focused while the designer took wonyoung’s measurements. drowsiness clouded your mind, and without realizing it, you mistakenly jotted down the wrong numbers.

that's why you stood at the very back of the venue, hands cold and clammy, heart pounding with anxiety. you didn't miss the way wonyoung subtly covered her chest, her fingers fidgeting ever so slightly. after working with her for so long, you knew that the smile she wore was merely a facade—masking the discomfort she couldn't voice.

oh you were dead.

the loud slam of the door made you jump, your head instinctively ducking down. wonyoung was furious—her sharp eyes scanning the line of staff in the dressing room. the tension was suffocating, her presence alone demanding perfection. you swallowed hard, dreading the moment her gaze would land on you.

"everyone but yn, get out."

your heart stopped, body frozen, mouth dry.

one by one, the staff filed out, leaving only the two of you in the dressing room. the silence was deafening. you didn’t dare to lift your gaze, but you could feel wonyoung’s eyes boring into you—heavy, expectant, and unreadable.

"look at me, yn." and you did, immediately.

her gaze was devoid of emotion—dull, unreadable. somehow, that unnerved you more than if she had been outright angry.

"you've always been such a good manager," she began, her voice smooth yet laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

"tending to my needs, organizing my schedules, ensuring everything is perfect..."

wonyoung took a slow step forward, then another, her unwavering eyes locked onto yours, suffocating you in their intensity.

"what went wrong, hm?" she murmured, her voice dipping into a near whisper, low and deliberate.

your lips parted, but no words came—just silence and the dry ache in your throat.

she tilted her head, amusement flickering faintly beneath her unreadable gaze. "nothing to say?" her tone was almost mocking, her expression void of warmth.

"well then, let me guess..." she mused, tapping a delicate finger against her chin, feigning deep thought, as if your mistake was nothing more than a trivial puzzle to be solved.

her lips parted slightly, as if a realization had dawned on her, before curling into an amused, mocking smile.

"you're slacking off! am i right?" she accused, her voice lilting with feigned excitement.

panic surged through you as you quickly shook your head, stammering out frantic denials.

she arched a brow, unconvinced. "if not that... then what?"

her gaze flickered with something unreadable before her expression shifted once again—eyes widening for a brief moment before relaxing, half-lidded and enigmatic.

this woman was truly unpredictable.

she closed the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps, her presence overwhelming as she trapped you against the wall.

your breath hitched as her scent filled your senses—sweet yet intoxicating. her warm breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

if you were nervous before because of your mistake, now it was for an entirely different reason. instead of fearing for your job, you found yourself flustered, heat pooling in your cheeks at the undeniable tension crackling between you.

her gaze flickered from your eyes to the faint blush dusting your cheeks. a slow, knowing smirk tugged at her lips, amusement dancing in her dark eyes.

"you're blushing..." she trailed off, a teasing smile playing at her lips.

suddenly, she stepped back, a laugh escaping her as realization dawned on her face.

"oh, yn! you naughty thing!" she mused, leaving you puzzled and speechless.

"you messed up my measurements just to get a better view of my cleavage, didn't you?" she teased, her tone playful yet mischievous.

your eyes widened in panic, your face turning bright red as you stammered, trying to shake off the accusation.

"n-no! i didn’t! i was just so exhausted, i must’ve written the wrong measurements by mistake!" you blurted, desperation lacing your voice. but the woman merely chuckled, an amused glint in her eyes as she watched your frantic reaction.

"exhausted? am i tiring to work with? are you tired of me?" the woman accused, her voice sharp with suspicion.

"n-no! that's not what i meant!" you denied desperately, shaking your head.

"if so, then you should find another job. should i help you with that?" she pressed, her words cutting deep.

your throat tightened, tears welling up in your eyes as you frantically shook your head, feeling utterly helpless.

wonyoung’s subtle smirk faded, replaced by something unreadable. the bright gleam in her eyes dulled, now hooded and clouded with something unfamiliar.

she watched you in silence, studying you—memorizing every trembling breath, every tear welling in your eyes as you desperately denied her accusations. and in that moment, something inside her stirred.

put simply, she wanted more. more of your fragile side—your voice trembling, eyes teary and red, pleading for her. she liked that.

"i don't want to fire you either..." she whispered, her hand rising to gently caress your hair, fingers threading through the strands with an unsettling tenderness.

"but mistakes shouldn't go unpunished," she finished, her voice soft yet firm.

your eyes met hers, and there it was—lust, deep and consuming, mingling with something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine as it clouded her perfect gaze.

she pulled away slightly, an evil smirk curling on her lips as an idea flickered to life in her mind.

"ever heard of 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth'?" she mused, her voice dripping with amusement.

you mindlessly nodded, completely ensnared by her bewitching gaze, your thoughts hazy under the weight of her presence.

"you gave me a hard time covering my exposed cleavage earlier," she murmured, tilting her head with a playful glint in her eyes.

"so it’s only fair that i give you something to cover too, hm?"

her smirk deepened as she watched confusion flicker across your face. a low chuckle escaped her lips, the sound rich and taunting, sending shivers down your spine.

you were about to voice out your confusion when wonyoung pounced on you, her mouth latching onto your neck as she pushed you hard against the wall, pinning you.

a gasp escaped your lips and your knees became weak at the realisation that wonyoung is kissing your neck. the woman you work for, the woman that every man dreamed to have and the woman that every woman dreamed to become.

she was here, pinning you against the wall as her mouth abused your skin. sucking and biting it harshly, as if she intended on leaving marks.

wonyoung bit your skin, eliciting a moan from your lips causing her to pull away with an audible pop. her hooded eyes fixated on you, enjoying the sight of you breathless, red and so weak for her.

wanting to hear you again, wonyoung pushed her knee against your aching core and you can't help but moan at the pressure.

"fuck." the tall woman cursed, the word felt so unfamiliar coming from her and it only aroused you even more.

as if she was a vampire, wonyoung sensed your growing arousal.

"look at you, so fragile and weak for me," she sneered, her voice laced with ridicule, each word dripping with cruel amusement.

"you wanted this, don't you? you little slut." she spat and it made you even more aroused.

wonyoung has always been so beautiful but seeing her like this, looking at you with lust and ridicule as she degrades you, it made you wet.

her hand travelled to your waist, snaking under the fabric of your shirt. her touch hot and electrifying against your skin but you liked it. you let out a breathy moan as she rubs your clothed tit.

wonyoung watched as you closed your eyes and enjoyed her touch. wanting to see you beg, she retracted her hand, making you whine at the loss of contact.

"don't forget that i'm punishing you." she whispered,

"but i really want to see you beg." she said firmly before reaching out to your shirt, ripping it open making the buttons fly out.

the cold air against your exposed skin made you shiver but it was soon overcome with warmth as wonyoung latched her mouth onto your skin, the warmth and slightly wet lips making you hum in pleasure.

your knees felt weak against her touch, making you almost fall if not for wonyoung’s quick reaction. her hands gripped your waist to steady you.

the taller pulled away and rested her eyes on your exposed chest. she grinned whilst looking at the dark red marks she left. wonyoung then looked at you and what she saw awakened something in her.

hair dishevelled, eyes watery and you breathing heavily—it was wonyoung’s new obsession. seeing her usually nonchalant manager be in such a fragile and submissive state.

with no hesitation, wonyoung lunged forward and attacked your lips now. her lips soft like pillows as they moved hungrily against yours. a warm hand cupped your aching core and you moaned at the contact. wonyoung took this chance to invade your mouth with her tongue, exploring every corner.

wonyoung moved her fingers against your clothed core and it was making you crazy. she was teasing you by how slow her movements are and at this point, you forgot about being professional and just want her to fuck you senseless.

feeling your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, you pulled away, panting and whimpering. the trail of saliva connecting your lips increasing you arousal. wonyoung watched how you closed your eyes, bite your lips while she worked wonders on your core. she could feel the cloth dampening, most probably from how wet you are right now.

she wanted to fuck you right this moment with your reactions but she reminded herself that she was punishing you.

suddenly, wonyoung pulled away, making you whine at the loss of movement on your core. you watched her pull away from you, smirk plastered on her face.

"you didn't forget that you're still working, right?" she asked, her voice teasing.

you blinked and had to take a moment to recollect yourself.

wonyoung let out a low chuckle, the sound dripping with amusement as she casually wiped the smudged lipstick from her lips. she straightened her outfit with practiced ease, looking as composed as ever—completely unaffected by what had just transpired.

meanwhile, your face burned with heat as you hurriedly tried to fix yourself, only to realize your shirt's buttons were completely gone. panic flickered across your expression as you glanced down at the disheveled fabric, then back at wonyoung, who remained utterly unfazed.

her sharp eyes drifted to your ruined shirt before flicking back up to meet yours. with a small, knowing smirk, she tilted her head toward the couch.

"there should be a shirt over there," she said smoothly. "you can wear it."

you swallowed hard, still reeling from everything, as wonyoung simply watched—entirely in control, as always.

wonyoung leaned back against the vanity, arms crossed as she watched you slip off your ruined shirt and reach for the one on the sofa. her gaze was sharp, unwavering, drinking in every movement with silent amusement.

but as soon as you put it on, your stomach dropped. the fabric was loose—too loose. it hung off your shoulders, exposing your collarbones… and the deep, scandalous marks wonyoung had left behind.

your eyes widened in horror as realization hit, hands scrambling to adjust the collar, but it was no use. wonyoung smirked, tilting her head as she admired her handiwork.

"ah… seems like you’ve got a little problem," she mused, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

she stood up and walked to the door, a wicked smirk playing on her lips as always.

"i still have a photoshoot to attend. don't make me wait in the car," she said coolly before slamming the door shut, leaving you alone.

you slumped down on the couch. is this your punishment for giving her the wrong measures? leaving you sexually frustrated, a wet and aching core, hickeys on your neck and chest that would probably last for weeks and a question on your head.

"what the fuck?"

let's just say you spent the next month sweating under hoodies and turtlenecks, enduring the blazing heat to hide the marks of a scandalous act.

[thesilmarillionblog]

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

Summary: You need to distract Black Noir during a party in Vought Tower so that your boyfriend Butcher can steal some files from the CEO's room that could be Homelander’s undoing.

Pairing: Black Noir / Female! Reader

Warnings: +18 (Minors DNI), Language, Supe Reader, cheating, reader is a member of the Seven

Word Count: 1203

A/N: English is not my first language.

You adjusted your tight black dress when Butcher told you what to do for the fifth time as you sighed with frustration.

“I got it, fuck, I got it, Butcher. I am no fucking dumb,” you said as you shut your eyes, irritated.

“Just do your best, love, and try not to die. Meet me an hour later in the parking lot,” said Butcher as he gave you an encouraging squeeze on your shoulder. “Cuntlander is not going to survive this if the rumors are fucking true and, of course, if we play our cards well.”

You answered, “Yeah,” sounding pensive and not particularly thrilled. “Hopefully, whatever he has done has been so vile and repulsive that everyone despises him.”

With a sly smile, he continued, “Well, you know, love, try, or fucking die tryin'.”

“I don’t know, Billy,” you sighed. “It’s like, even if he commits mass murder, which he has done many times already, he’ll get away with it again. I just don’t understand.”

“Hey,” he said, lifting your chin. “It will all end soon, I promise. Also, let’s hope everyone is enjoying the party out there, huh?”

He gave you a hard spanking on your ass and a swift kiss on the lips, amused by the crowd at the top of the tower while you two waited patiently in the elevator. “We can enjoy our fun later.”

He gave you one last warning, and when the elevator stopped, you gave him the finger and parted ways. After all that, you two made a great team.

As you greeted the reporters, other members of the Seven, and all the shady old rich folks in the room who seemed to be enjoying themselves with dull conversation, your eyes looked around for Homelander. When you saw Homelander discussing his new spin-off with Ashley and two men from VCU, you sighed with relief.

You panicked and followed Black Noir when you noticed he was moving in the wrong direction. Fuck, you thought.

You followed him for a while, touched his arm just before he went into the room Butcher had just been in, and then you dragged Noir into a dimly lit corner.

You walked up to him and smiled, saying, “Hey, Noir. You seem to be as bored as I am out here, huh?”

It was impossible to get him to talk and start a conversation with Black Noir, even though you tried your best each time. However, he didn’t even nod his head, at least showing that he was actually listening to you.

Not even moving a bit, he made another move to get into the room he shouldn’t, so you grasped his clothed, strong arm tighter, trying to take his attention. You moved closer to him, and you felt the sharpness of his eyes behind his mask. Moving your hand slowly between his legs, your fingers touched the funny piece placed before his dick.

You removed the pointless chunk from his thigh, taking your time so you could measure his response.

You palmed his hard length through his suit and muttered, “We two are bored as fuck out there, Noir. How about we enjoy ourselves together? What do you say?” Fuck, he felt big.

Although this was not part of your evening plans, there was nothing wrong with taking all necessary measures to steal Homelander's data and bring him to an

end. After all, that was a pretty good excuse to finally fuck with Noir. What Butcher didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

You touched your lips to his clothed ones as you began to stroke him through his suit and asked, “Do you want me to jack you off right here? Do you want me to make you cum?”

As you touched him, you heard him gasp and get firmer. He lifted his hand suddenly and gave you a hard shove to get on your knees. Excitedly, you waited for him to remove his tight suit and reveal his length. You were thrilled to finally have another dick because, for the past few months, all you had ever tasted was Butcher's. It didn't even make you feel bad—rather, it only made you more excited.

You cried out, “I want you to fuck my mouth,” as he gave himself a quick pump or two and then tightened his grip on your hair and forced his hardness into your mouth.

If you weren’t a supe, he would have broken your jaw already, but you were a supe and definitely built for this.

He moved quickly and forcefully to fuck your mouth while you moaned all around him, encouraging him to go farther. While trying to control your gag reflexes and take all of him, your spit was flowing around his shaft. Every time his big balls crushed your chin, they made obscene noises. You moaned loudly as someone else fucked your mouth in a dark corner, making you feel so hot and wet.

You stroked his balls with one hand, licked the salty precum, and wrapped your lips around the thick tip of his cock. He tasted even better than Butcher and was twice as big as fuck.

You spit on his cock and kept sucking him off, moaning, “You taste so good. Which would you prefer—to cum on my face or in my mouth?”

You could tell he was having a great time fucking your mouth, even though he was just moaning.

He took a firm hold of your hair and pressed his entire length down to your throat, causing both pleasure and pain to make your eyes water. As he placed your head against his thigh, the scent of his pubic hair filled your nostrils, making you want to savor every square inch of him.

He moaned like a whisper and pushed himself even more as he poured his thick and salty sperm down to your throat while holding your head firmly. You did not waste any of his sperm since you ingested every drop. You kissed the top of his dick after he removed it from your mouth. Then, he began to stroke himself a little harder and spilled on your face as well.

“Fuck, yes,” you moaned as he jerked off against your face. You knew that Butcher could never be like this. He was so soft and nice with you.

He helped you get up after he tucked himself back in his suit and watched you lick your lips with the taste of his cum. You heard him chuckling under his mask.

You would take your time with him for another day.

___________________________________________________________

A/N: I wish there were enough fics about Black Noir because he deserves the best, and I miss him so much. Let me know if you want to be tagged for Black Noir fics.

Taglist: @anundyingfidelity

[rosegolden13]

A Lesson in Inevitability

18+, omegaverse dynamics, manipulation, almost scruffing, mean alpha John Price, a lil bit nicer beta Gaz, military inaccuracies

~1k words

You make your knock loud, firm against the wood of his door. It takes a conscious effort not to be soft, but you can do it. His hum is all you get for confirmation that you can come in.

He’s lounged back in his chair, boots on the desk and files in hand.

You wait for him to address you, like a good omega should. But fuck that. He doesn’t even look towards you.

You’ve got a rank higher than your designation. You honestly hope your anger bitters your scent, even with the military-grade scent blockers you’ve applied heavily to your scent glands, just so that he’ll stop sitting there and ignoring you.

“Captain.” It’s more demanding than you’ve ever been with him.

You succeed in catching him off guard, as much as one can with John Price, the notoriously unshakable alpha, for his eyes finally meet yours. You don’t blink. It takes nearly everything in you to fight the urge to lower your gaze, but you don’t. 

When he says nothing, you fill the silence. “With all due respect, sir, you can’t keep putting me on on desk duty. Frankly, it’s an insult to my abilities and my rank. I’m just as much part of this-” 

“Spare me the tirade, Sergeant.” His words are biting as they interrupt yours, boots on the floor before you can even blink. He’s fast for an alpha. “The answer is no.”

You blink, taken aback by this. “No? What do you-”

“I mean, you’re not seein’ the field, hear me?” He’s approaching you leisurely and slow, discarding the file on his desk, but his voice is near a growl.

Your omega understands the danger before you do. She’s ready to bare her neck and submit, fall on her knees if it means Price'll be proud of her again, like he was when you brought him the completed paperwork he needed this morning. She can't handle this.

But you can. This isn’t your Alpha. He’s your Captain. “Why not?” The words are flat, as is your subtle scent overwhelming the scentblocker, no longer the sweet vanilla but more like something burnt and smoking.

He arches a brow, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t question your superiors, soldier.”

Gritting your teeth, you go to turn on your heel. You know exactly how to get him to answer. “Transfer me, then. If you won’t use me, somebody will.”

He doesn’t let you get to the door, grabbing your shoulder a bit too tightly. “And let you get killed? Is that what you want?” He yanks you around and your body doesn’t stand a chance against his strength.

“No, I-I just want to do my job, Price! For god’s sake.” You try to push at his arms, but his grip is steel-like on your shoulders. 

“Do it then.” His voice is a dangerous calm as he meets your eyes. “Shake me off, Sergeant. Show me you can handle the field.”

You gape at him a moment, sure you’re misunderstanding what he means. But before you can protest, he has you up against the door which hits against the frame, wood meeting wood in a dull thump. His face is closer to yours than its been in weeks, not since you first joined and had to get the awkward experience of scenting one another out of the way.

“You heard me. Try to get away.” The words are a growl, predatory in a way that makes your whole body go rigid with fear. 

But you fight through the instinctual panic. You’ve been through worse, and he won’t hurt you, even if you inner omega is convinced he will.

“What the hell is this?” It’s more scared than you want it to sound as you struggle against him, managing to kick the knee you know is bad.

But he just chuckles, easily wrestling you into place with your front pressed to the door, cheek against the wood. “Good strength for a ‘mega. But you can’t resist your nature, soldier.” His thick fingers tease at the nape of your neck, causing you to tense beneath his touch.

“Price!” It’s a panicky squeak as you squirm desperately against him, the dread making your throat close up. “Don’t-” Already, just the graze of his fingers against that sensitive area, attuned to the smallest of touches, is causing your mind to go numb around the edges, your knees weakening. 

“That’s how easy it is. Someone gets their hands on you like that, and you’re dead. You’re not ready, you hear me?” The words seem to sink into your flesh, engraving themselves inside you, just as his fingers press further into your nape. It’s enough to make you sink against the door, the tension leaving your body.

His touch is gone seconds later, his grip back on your shoulders as he shakes you. “Do you understand, soldier?”

Your mind is still distant, the fear you felt moments ago dulled, but, even in this state, you know better than to argue against this. You've lost. There’s a salty wetness against your lips when you open them to speak, but you don’t remember crying. “... Yes, sir.”

“You won’t ask me for field work again, will you?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s a good ‘mega.” He squeezes your shoulder before you hear his boots heading back over to his desk. 

—

You’re not quite sure how you end up in Kyle’s arms, but, as you come back to yourself, you’re grateful to be here. His scent is clean and fresh, like a warm basket of laundry just out of the dryer.

He’s cooing to you in that low, soothing tone of his, saying something about how mean old Price doesn’t know how to take care of a sweet little thing like you, how he’ll talk to him for you about this, how maybe Price was right but he shouldn’t have been so cruel about it, how he’ll take good care of you, lovie. 

It only occurs to you much later, a month or so, when you’re squished between the two of them, breathless, naked, and sweaty, that maybe it was a little too convenient that Kyle was there that day.

[captain039]

PART 3 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous Part <-

You can’t get the alpha off your mind. You’re struggling to focus, struggling to do most things without day dreaming or trying to spot him in the crowd. You felt horrid for what you did to him, no amount of apologising could ever make up for how you burned him. He just sat there though and healed right before your eyes. It didn’t make it any better though. You were off to see Jean, you couldn’t continue like this, you needed time off, where you’d go you have no idea. You walk in rushed and stall again when you see Logan. You turn to leave but Logan’s voice stops you.

“Got a mission, Charles himself requested we go” he says and you frown a little.

You’re given a few days to get ready, you talk to Professor Hank about some way to control your flames or stop them if it was possible. He was hesitant but you begged him and he gave you a serum. You packed your things, packed the serums safely along with brining too many anti-heat and scent blockers. The mission was to look into an underground organisation going on with Mutants. Why the hell Charles asked you to be here you don’t know. You traveled via train into the city then rented a car to head to the town, then booked a motel nearby.

“Here” Logan said handing you a small file and you frown but read it.

Apparently there had been rumours around a bar just outside the town with an underground fighting ring, specifically for fighting mutants. The Government did work with Professor Charles you’re pretty sure, but Logan was the big guns you guess.

Logan hadn’t said a word as you settled down into the motel, hopefully he couldn’t pick up on your anxiety. He left with a small explanation, something about food before he closed the door and you sighed sitting on one of the singles. Why you couldn’t be in your own room was confusing, you went to rent two but he said one with a stern look. You unpack the serum Hank gave you staring at the needles, you hate needles. Hank said to only take it at night just before bed. You quickly hide them when a car pulls up and Logan walks back in with two small bags of food. You eat in silence, glancing to the alpha every few minutes wondering why he was so damn quiet.

“Why’d you bring me?” You ask trying to get conversation as he raises his eyebrow and looks to you.

“Because” he says and you give him a huff.

“Because, isn’t answer” you say.

“Is for me” he looks back to his food and continues eating, end of conversation you guess.

You take a shower just before bed, bring in a change of clothes, toiletries and hiding the serum and your medication in between them. You finish your shower, dry off and stare at the serum, it was for safety, everyone’s safety. You pick the needle up feeling your heart pound in your ears. Hank said to just inject it like a vaccine in the upper arm. A knock at the door comes and you drop the syringe, thankfully back in the small pouch.

“Just a minute!” You call.

“I smell your anxiety from out here” Logan calls and you huff.

“Then cover your nose!” You don’t mean to back talk, but he isn’t helping the situation.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Mind your business” you say and hear him scoff lightly. You frown as the lock clicks open and he opens the door, a single claw extended before he sheaths it. You’re too in shock to say you’re not dressed as he stares a little wide eyed before his eyes trail to the pouch behind you.

“They’re serums! Hank gave them to me I’m not-“ you struggle with words and shaky hands.

“It’s to dull my mutation” you say.

“Like how you dull your scent?” He snarls a little and you frown confused before he realises what he said.

“Forget it” he growls and closes the door harshly making you jolt. What the hell?

You don’t take the serum, just awkwardly shuffle in your nicest PJ’s and get ready to go to bed. Logan’s outside, smoking, same hard strained look on his face. You get under the covers and sigh as the door opens and he walks back in. You mutter a small goodnight but don’t get a response, oh well.

You wake up to shaking and shot upwards hands out to whatever’s in front of you. Logan hisses and you realise it’s him and your hands are on fire and you’ve touched him.

“I’m so sorry! Oh-“ you retract your hands seeing the red burn marks you left on his naked chest. They heal though and you can’t help but stare, it’s amazing to watch.

“What happened?” You asked checking to see if anything else was on fire.

“You were making noises” he grunts.

“Don’t all people mumble when they sleep?” You question wondering why he woke you up.

“Upset, scared noises” he clarifies and you make a small ‘oh’ sound. You keep your eyes on your hands where they rest on the blanket.

“You really shouldn’t be near me” you half joke half don’t.

“I said you wouldn’t hurt me” he says voice surprisingly softer and you scoff.

“I can hurt you” you say looking to where your burns were.

“I’ve had metal injected into my skeleton” he says and you look to his face in horror. He unsheathes his claws.

“These were bone once” he comments and you stare at them before he retracts them. You wish you could smell his scent this close, nothing but dulled alpha. You feel your shoulders sag at the thought and look to your hands again.

“Did I wake you?” You ask quietly looking back to him as he looks at the window.

“Was already awake” he says with a small shrug.

“Oh, you ok?” You asks and he looks back to you. You look at each other for a while, your cheeks heat and you fidget a little before he gets up and moves.

“Go back to be sleep” is all he says going back to his bed.

Next part ->

[lanaroff]

House of Broken Hearts- Chapter 8

Paring: Wanda Maximoff and Reader

Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping

The weight in your chest only grew heavier as you left Natasha’s room. No matter how much you tried to make things right, the darkness inside you never lessened. There was one more thing—one more person—you had to face.

Fury.

You stormed through the compound, your pulse pounding in your ears. Every step felt heavier, like you were walking straight into your own execution. Maybe that’s what this was. Maybe you were finally handing yourself over to the inevitable.

When you reached Fury’s office, Maria Hill was standing outside, arms crossed as if she had been expecting you.

“Think twice about what you’re about to do,” Maria warned, voice calm but firm.

You let out a hollow laugh. “I haven’t thought twice about anything in years.”

Maria sighed, looking at you like she could see straight through the cracks, through the barely held-together pieces of who you once were. “Then at least ask yourself if this is really what you want.”

You held your gaze. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

You pushed past Maria, barely hearing the agent curse under her breath before stepping aside.

You slammed the door behind you.

Fury didn’t even flinch. He sat at his desk, flipping through some files as if you weren’t even there. As if you weren’t ready to set the whole damn room on fire.

“What now?” Fury asked, not even looking up.

You clenched your fists. “I’m done.”

That got his attention. He finally lifted his head, one brow raising. “Done?”

“Yes. Done.” Your voice shook with something between rage and exhaustion. “I made a mistake. I betrayed everyone I ever cared about. I lost my team, my friends, five years of my life. And somehow, despite all of that, you still found a way to use me.”

Fury’s expression didn’t change, but there was a shift in the air, a silent warning.

“You knew I had nothing left, and you took advantage of that,” You continued, stepping closer. “You turned me into your personal weapon, day after day, mission after mission, and I let you. Because I thought maybe—maybe—if I kept going, I could make up for what I did.” Your breath hitched. “But I can’t. And I won’t keep trying.”

You let out a shaky exhale. “So if you want to kill me, imprison me, or make me disappear, go ahead. Do whatever the hell you want. Because I have nothing left to lose.”

You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper now. “I already lost her.”

Silence.

Fury watched you, unreadable as ever. But you didn’t wait for a response. You turned on your heel and stormed out before the weight of your own words could crush you.

Maria was still outside. She didn’t stop you as you passed, didn’t say anything at all. Just watched you go with something close to pity in her eyes.

You didn’t care.

You were finally free.

Or at least, that’s what you told herself.

After leaving Fury’s office the pain was still there. For a moment you let yourself wonder as you walked around the busy streets of New York, wondering if your life would have been easier if your family had been around. You wonder if you would have met Wanda. If you to would have fallen in love. Maybe you would have been the one she was going to marry, not him. You wonder and wonder, and ended up in the only place that despite everything never changed.

The cemetery felt colder than you remembered. Maybe it was just you. Maybe it was the weight in your chest, the exhaustion in your bones. Or maybe it was the way the world had dulled over the years, ever since you lost them.

You walked slowly, almost hesitantly, your fingers tightening into fists at your sides. The headstones looked the same—solid, unmoving, untouched by time. Unlike you. You had been shaped, broken, and rebuilt over and over again. And somehow, you were still there.

You crouched down, tracing your fingers over the names carved into the stone. The familiar sting behind your eyes started immediately, but you blinked it away. You had done enough crying. Or maybe not enough.

“Hey,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Silence. Of course, there was always silence. But it didn’t matter. You talked anyway.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you admitted, exhaling shakily. “I just… I feel like I’ve been running for so long. Running from this, from myself, from everything I don’t want to face.”

Your throat tightened, and you let out a breathless, humorless chuckle. “I thought revenge would make it better. I thought if I made them pay, if I did what I was supposed to do, then maybe—maybe I’d feel different. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so… lost.”

You shook your head, your fingers curling against the stone. “But it never worked. I kept going, mission after mission, death after death, and it didn’t bring you back. It didn’t fix anything. I just got better at pretending. At convincing myself that if I stayed in the dark long enough, I wouldn’t have to feel anything at all.”

Your hands trembled. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold or from the emotions clawing their way out of you.

“I met someone,” you said, your voice softer now. “Wanda. You’d love her. She’s everything I’m not—kind, warm, good.”

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. “I love her,” you admitted, the words feeling heavier than they should. You had been holding them in for so long, keeping them locked away like they were dangerous. “She makes me feel like I’m more than my past. Like I’m worth something. But I messed up. I hurt her. And I told myself it was better this way—that she was better off without me.”

You let out a shaky breath, running a hand down your face. “But standing here, talking to you, I realize how stupid that is. I’ve spent so much time punishing myself, pushing away the people who love me, because I thought I deserved to be alone. Because I thought if I let myself have something good, I’d just lose it. That’s what always happens, right?”

Your voice cracked, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “But I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You exhaled, gripping the cold stone like it was the only thing grounding you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For everything. For losing myself in revenge. For wasting so many years hating instead of living. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

You hesitated before finally allowing herself to say what you had been too scared to admit. “I want to be happy,” you whispered. “I want to find a way to be happy, even if I don’t think I deserve it yet. Because I think… I think that’s what you would’ve wanted for me.”

The wind blew past you, rustling the trees, sending a chill down your spine. For a moment, you let yourself imagine that it was them. That they were here, listening, forgiving.

You stood up slowly, your body still heavy, but your heart just a little lighter. You looked at their names one last time, inhaling deeply before standing up.

You took a deep breath, running a hand over your face. You had said what you needed to say. The weight in your chest hadn’t disappeared, but it felt… lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, you could finally start letting go.

You turned away from the graves, ready to head back. The compound wasn’t home, but Wanda was there. And right now, you needed Wanda more than anything.

But as soon as you stepped onto the quiet road leading back, tires screeched against the pavement. Your body tensed immediately, instincts kicking in. A black van skidded to a stop right in front of you, blocking your path. Before you could react, the doors swung open.

It all happened too fast.

Hands grabbed you. You fought. You fought like hell. Your fists connected with someone’s face, a satisfying crack ringing through the air. But there were too many of them. You reached for your powers, for the chaos bubbling inside you.

A sharp, numbing sensation shot through your veins, making your vision blur. Something was suppressing your powers. Some kind of tech. You gritted your teeth, panic clawing at your throat as you struggled harder.

“Get the hell off me!” you snarled, twisting, kicking, desperate.

A hard strike to the side of your head sent you staggering. The world spun, you strength slipping away.

No. No, not like this—

You barely heard the sound of the van doors slamming shut before everything went dark.

—

Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the fabric of the sheets absentmindedly. It had become a habit, waiting for you to come back.

After everything that had happened, after all the things said and unsaid, she had assumed—hoped—that tonight, you would stay. That you would sleep next to each other like you had the night before, tangled in warmth and familiarity.

She needed you. She hated admitting it, but she needed you.

But as the hours passed, the realization settled like a stone in her stomach.

You were not coming back.

Wanda clenched her jaw, looking at the empty space beside her. She felt foolish. Of course, you would leave. That’s what you always did. Even when you were there, a part of you always felt so far away.

Maybe you were out there, throwing yourself into another mission, chasing death like it was the only thing you were meant for. Maybe you were drinking, trying to silence the voices in your head. Maybe you were running again, running from Wanda, from the truth, from everything you were to each other.

Wanda bit her lip hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was useless. The ache in her chest grew and grew until it broke through, spilling over in quiet sobs. She curled into herself, gripping the sheets where you should have been.

“I hate you,” she whispered into the empty room. “I hate you for making me love you this much.”

But it wasn’t true.

She still loved you. She always would.

And that’s why it hurt so damn much.

Tag list: @seventeen-x @womenarehotsstuff @redhoodte @ayrtonwilbury @justyourwritter69 @casquinhaa @womenarehotsstuff @justarandomreaderxoxo @yelldontwhisper @raven-ss @chickenlittlsblog @username23345 @justyourwritter69 @ayrtonwilbury

[angelwhisp3rs]

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass. 

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come  in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock 

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?” 

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months. 

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up. 

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed. 

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure. 

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up. 

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him. 

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed. 

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure,  busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.

[finniestoncrane]

Nick Valentine x GN!Reader, word count: 1.4k hi hello i had to write this because i'm going insane about him. he might be my self-insert's father figure, but i've got daddy issues, so welcome to that nightmare. just some pleasure-dom nick having the tables turned on him, with reader treating him to a little bit of pleasure geared towards his... well, gears 🚬 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: electrostimulation, thigh riding/grinding, sort of implied that reader has a vagina in that they get him wet but that could be precum kjhkjhasd

Nick tapped the cigarette against the ashtray on his desk, his degloved hand, all metal and hinges, clutching the burning embers, determined to get one last draw out of it. But it dwindled before his bright, yellow eyes, and instead he stubbed it out with a sigh, looking to the clock on top of the filing cabinet. Still plenty of time left in the day. Only six, that was barely the evening.

There was always time for one more case. Always room to squeeze in more work. And though the in tray was empty, he could still go out and sniff out a new case to work on. So he stood up from the desk, refreshed determination, and reached for his trench coat, which wasn't in its usual place. Quickly frustrated, he called out.

"Ellie? Ellie! Where's my coat? Have you seen it?"

From the front of the room, entering silently and unnoticed as Nick kept lifting piles of old paperwork in a futile search for his jacket, you watched him.

"I sent Ellie home, Nick. Work's over for the day."

He turned to you, ready to chastise you for telling him when his business could be open, but he was stopped by the vision before him.

Leaning against the wall, you smiled to him, chewing on your lip to stop the grin spreading too much and ruining your blasé, sultry attitude. He wasn't going to find his coat, because you were wearing it. The top buttons were undone, exposing a lot more chest than he was used to seeing on you, but the others were fastened, concealing your body from him, and the susprise you had for him below it.

"I see the case of the missing coat has been solved then."

"Hm, I guess so. But there's always the mystery of what's underneath."

Nick sat back down at his desk, lighting another cigarette once he was settled in his chair. He took one long draw and looked up at you past the brim of his hat.

"You got any clues for me then, sweetheart?"

Your fingers teased over one of the buttons, slowly undoing it, letting the lapels fall a little further apart.

"How's that?"

"I think I might need a little more."

Another button, undone slower than the last, his patience wearing as his lust built up.

"Any closer, detective?"

"How about you give an old man a break and just show me?"

Quickly undoing the last of the buttons, you let the coat fall open, exposing your body clad in intricate lingerie. Torn and frayed a little, here and there, but nicer than anything he'd seen in a long time.

You walked over to the desk, one foot in front of the other, taking your time on the journey and relishing the way his eyes took you in, the bright yellow light rising from your toes to your head. His mouth opened, and his cigarette fell out, stubbing itself in the ashtray, the smoke rising up to frame you as you perched on the edge of the desk. Leaning across, you picked up his cigarette and placed it back in his mouth, lifting the lighter and flicking it, watching the dulled embers spark back to life as he took another draw.

When he was close to the end, you walked around the desk and settled yourself on one of his thighs, waiting for him to stub out the butt before you caressed his cheek, fingers teasing at the exposed hinge of his jaw.

"I have another little surprise for you."

Your hand slipped into the pocket of his coat, producing a set of jumper cables as you kicked a little makeshift battery out from under the desk. Nick looked at you quizzically, but with a hint of excitement.

"It's your turn. I thought it might be nice to see you get a little kick for a change."

Sliding down from the desk, you perched on one of his thighs, your body tingling with arousal as his hands moved protectively around your hips to keep you steady. With a grateful smile, you reached up and removed his hat, setting it down on the desk, free hand caressing his cheek as you took in his features without the shadow of the brim.

"What are you waiting for then, doll?"

His sly grin had your heart pounding as your fingers made their way to his tie, loosening it and letting it hang around his neck as you turned your attention to this buttons of his shirt. You opened each one slowly, deftly, letting your fingertips glide over the soft, synthetic texture of his chest. Completely smooth, but you could work with that.

Pinching a bit of his skin away from his exoskeleton, you clamped one end of the jumper cable to it, the other attached to the battery. And then you did the same on the other side of his chest, a second makeshift nipple to attach your tools too. Two jumper cables, both ready to go. You lifted the battery up, your thumb hovering over the power switch on the side.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Pushing down, you let the small jolt of electricity pass through him, his body insulated, saving you from the majority of the shockwave but still enough electricity tingling over him that you felt the benefit yourself.

Nick's jaw loosened, the tattered remnants of his neck trembling as he twitched with pleasure. It was as close to arousal as he would ever experience, each fresh spark another wave that crashed over him, a pulse of excitement. And it was only heightened by the way your eyes sparkled back as you looked into his, the yellow light reflecting in your pupils, the way that it dimmed and brightened as the electricity coursed through him.

The excitement wasn't lost on your either. Soft, sharp throbs of arousal, jolts of joy from each little push of the button had you on edge, skin hot and prickled. In an act so desperate it made you blush, you could feel yourself beginning to roll your hips, aching for some friction against your heat, needing to feel yourself on Nick as you rode his thigh.

As he felt your body pushing down onto him, satisfying yourself, using him to get off, he groaned softly. The sound rumbled in his throat, a slight hitch to it as another round of shockwaves travelled through his wires.

Flicking the battery off, you settled once again into your rhythm, grinding your body into him, rutting forwards and backwards along his thigh, unable to really control yourself. It felt good just to feel him, to fuck yourself on him as you watched him revel in the effects of your stimulation.

"You're having fun, aren't you?"

You couldn't tell if it was playful teasing, given how obvious your arousal was, or if Nick was genuinely worried that this was only enjoyable for him. You reasoned that it was probably a bit of both. He was used to giving pleasure, not necessarily receiving it. He liked for you to be the focus, the one that the attention was on. It felt strange for him to have you in power, to let you do all the hard work. So you took one of his hands, shifting your body down his thigh a little and placing his palm where you had been grinding against him.

"You're the detective, Nick. Figure it out..."

He felt the sensation of damp against the fabric, your slick coating his thigh.

"I don't have a change of pants with me, missy."

"Well, you'll just have to think of a good excuse if anyone asks what that stain is, Valentine."

His fingertips were cool against your cheek, the exposed metal tingling against your skin as he stroked it softly. The bright yellow light of his eyes was difficult to look into for too long, but you accepted the strain just to keep the connection there, only looking down when he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Ok... as long as you're having fun then... you could try increasing the voltage this time."

Looking back up at him, you blushed as he winked, an immediate and renewed warmth spreading over you once more.

"Yes, Mr Valentine."

[storiesofsvu]

Down Bad Ch 6

Joe Velasco x Terry Bruno x fem!reader warnings: language, smut, threesome, teasing, anal play, anal fingering, butt plugs, fingering, blow jobs, hand jobs, cum play/snowballing, dom/sub dynamics, minor teasing, spanking, pussy spanking, double penetration (fingers/plugs). 6.9k and i'm not sorry.

When the weekend finally rolled around the three of you managed to finagle clocking out at the same time. An early off for you with the promise of babysitting next week, Bruno filing for OT and Velasco punching out at his predicted time of seven. When you pushed through the precinct doors the burst of fresh city air seemed to awaken you, invigorating your senses after a long day of dull paperwork and staring at screens. Knowing you all had the next two days off seemed to brighten spirits, steps slowing the further you got from the building. 

“Bar?” Velasco asked, turning back to the two of you.

“I could use a drink.” Bruno agreed, looking over to you.

Your head tilted, examining the boys, “do we really have to fuck around with the formalities right now guys?” You asked and they glanced towards each other, causing you to roll your eyes. “We all know the end game here, how about skipping the bar and awkward conversations trying to figure out whose apartment to go to? I’ve got food and beer at my place, let’s just jump right into the privacy for once.”

“Someone’s impatient.” Terry grinned, wincing when you punched him in the shoulder.

“Maybe I just don’t want to subject myself to the general public tonight. Now are you driving or are you getting in my car?”

“I’ve got my bike.” Joe pointed over his shoulder, “I can pick up take out so you don’t have to cook.”

“Perfect.” You smiled at him, turning to move toward your personal car.

“I’m riding with you, took the subway in.” The other man replied, turning to Joe, “swing by Sesamo? It’s on the way and has that agnolotti you liked so much.”

“Oh good call.” Joe gave a little salute before pulling on his helmet and starting up the bike, tearing out of the parkade with a bit of a head start.

Terry followed you over to your car, sliding into the passenger seat as you turned down the radio from your morning drive in. He made a teasing remark on your music choice and you simply stuck your tongue out in return, pulling out onto the main road. You let out a happy sigh, relaxing into your seat at the thought of a few days off, not having to worry about work, rolling the windows down to really take advantage while you could.

“So, what’s the game plan?” Terry asked a few blocks from the precinct.

“Game plan?” You laughed, glancing over at him, “I didn’t exactly have one. I just want to wind down with a few drinks and my good friends. Hopefully have an orgasm or two. Figured you guys were in the same spot.”

“After what I pulled on Monday I thought you might have come up with something.”

Your eyes widened this time, “what the fuck did you pull on Monday?”

“Velasco didn’t mention anything to you?”

“No.” You shook your head, “I was mainly kidding when I stopped by with food.” Your fist shot out, punching his arm again and he grunted.

“What did you do?”

Terry shrugged, an all too familiar smirk on his lips, “I… may have just… riled him up a bit… encouraged him in the right direction.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You huffed, glancing over your shoulder before changing lanes, “you told some super explicit story didn’t you?”

“Might have. We chatted about ass play. Told him you were a greedy little slut for it.”

The next look you gave him was half heated, half a glare, “well… that is an idea.”

“Oh?” His eyes darkened and you swatted your hand in his direction again.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, no one’s fucking anyone’s ass tonight. But I’ve never broken out the plugs with Joe, could be a good stepping stone.”

“And here you were scolding me for teasing the boy.”

“Just don’t be mean to him, okay?” You asked, a genuine softness in your eyes when you looked over at him at a red light. “He just wants to experiment and discover some new stuff he might be into.”

“I can be mean to you though, right?” He asked with a devilish grin and you rolled your eyes.

“As long as you remember my safe word.”

*

It didn’t take long for half empty take out containers to be forgotten, trails of clothing scattered starting at the couch leading all the way down the hallway into your bedroom. Beer bottles perched on dresser corners or nightstands, overhead lighting turned off, an amber glow washing through the room. 

Standing at the foot of the bed Terry had a hand around the top of your throat, not squeezing, just guiding you into the fiery kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth while Joe sucked on your neck from behind. Someone’s hands were playing with your tits, rolling your nipples between forefinger and thumb while your pussy began to flutter. Joe was already half hard, cock pressing against your ass while you palmed at Terry’s. One of his hands snuck around to your back side, squeezing at the globe of your ass and you were reminded of what your task at hand was supposed to be. He started to massage, squeezing and relaxing the flesh, stepping toward you as he ground against you, letting out a groan into the kiss. Your teeth sunk into Terry’s lower lip, pulling back from the kiss before letting it pop out of your mouth and he grunted.

“Fuck princess.”

“And you thought I was the one who needed patience?” You scolded, squeezing at his waist gently before stepping away, leaving Velasco whining on the other side of you. “Hold on pretty boy.” You turned in his arms, kissing him softly and he relaxed into the embrace, a sturdy arm wrapping around your waist, hoisting you toward him. Your hands slid up his chest, pushing back gently on his shoulders, looking up into his darkened eyes, “I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow at the smile on your face, watching intently as you crossed the room to your dresser, pausing to tag a swig of beer before you dug through a drawer. 

You turned back to the boys with a small sparkly make up bag in your hands, a smirk on your lips as you sauntered back across the room to them.

“Let’s try something new tonight.” You suggested, “you’re curious about things… and I like to have my ass played with. Might be a nice way for you to get some proof that when it’s done right, god” Joe watched your eyes roll back in pleasure at just the thought of it, “does it ever feel good.”

You unzipped the bag to reveal a three set of plugs with cute little heart gems on the bases and a bottle of lube. You picked up the smallest one, showing it off to him before sucking it into your mouth, your eyes not leaving his for a second as you moaned around it. Tipping your head back slightly you slowly let it pop out of your mouth, your lips parted perfectly and he ached to replace the plug with his thumb.

“What’d you say? You want to put one in me?” You asked and Joe nodded so fast he nearly made himself dizzy.

“Fuck yes.”

“Good boy.” You smiled, cupping his cheek as you leant up to kiss him, your free hand palming at his cock while the other slipped the toy bag into his hand. You patted his cheek gently before turning around, “Ter, why don’t you show him how we like to get started.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned, draining his beer before he pushed off the side of the dresser and prowled over to the bedside. He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dropping a quick kiss to your lips before swatting at your hip, “you know the drill, on your stomach princess.”

You dropped onto the bed, positioning yourself on your stomach so your hips were on the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off, feet brushing against the floor. You let out a happy hum, crossing your arms under your head, laying on your cheek so you could still somewhat watch the action going on behind you.

Terry turned to Joe, picking the bottle out of the bag in the other man’s hand, “lube first, you already know that.” He popped the cap, raising it above your body before squeezing the bottle, watching as it dripped between your ass cheeks, slipping down onto the sheets and between your legs. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet hiss, your eyes briefly shutting at the sensation. “If you feel like being extra nice you can warm it up in your hands first, but we all know she likes it a little cold at the start.”

“Mhmm.” The other man nodded, eyes trained on Terry.

Terry dropped a dollop of lube into his hand, using it to coat his fingers completely before stepping toward you and his hand pet between your legs, running through your pussy all the way to your ass, pressing softly. With two fingers he rubbed them back and forth between your ass cheeks, fingertips tracing your hole and you couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuck…” you muttered, pushing back into his touch.

Joe let out a breath, feeling himself twitch as his heart rate picked up, “you’re right. She is impatient.”

Terry barked out a laugh, continuing his ministrations has he looked over at the younger man, “you already knew that.”

“Took less time than normal.” He shrugged.

“That’s just how much she likes this.” He smirked, swatting at your ass. He looked to Joe, nodding between the two of you as an instruction for him to repeat it but harder. 

Joe did as he was asked, using the back of his hand to collide with the flesh of your ass and you groaned, hips waggling back towards them. Terry raised a brow and the second time Joe spanked you with his palm, hard and heavy, leaving a pleasurable sting against your flesh.

“Isn’t that right darlin’?” Terry asked, spanking you again, his slick fingers smacking against your ass and you moaned, “little slut just loves being fucking toyed with.”

“Yes.” You groaned out, your back arching when his hand cupped between your legs, slowly dragging inch by inch upwards, between your cheeks and pressing against your hole. “Please, sir.”

“Relax for me princess.” The tips of Terry’s fingers pressed against you and you let out a sigh, sinking deeper into the plush covers of your bed, a happy grin your lips. “Good girl.”

In tandem with the praise, he gave you, Terry slipped a coated finger in as Joe watched with bated breath. It sunk into your ass easily, more than enough lube smeared all around. You hummed happily as Terry slowly moved his finger out then all the way back in. 

“That good baby?” Joe asked, his hand ghosting up and down your thigh.

“Yes.” You moaned back, eyes catching Terry’s before fluttering shut, “more, please.”

“Patience.” He scolded, spanking you with his free hand and you whimpered, “you’re doing so good for me. How about you don’t fucking ruining it now?”

“Sorry sir.”

Terry started slowly fucking your ass with one finger, pumping in and out of you as your breath picked up. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Joe, his lips forming a smirk when he saw how intensely the other man was watching. He moved his finger a few more times, sinking deeper into you while you moaned harder.

“See how good she’s taking it?” He asked and green eyes shot up to meet his.

“Yeah.” He nodded, eyes shooting back down to your ass where Terry’s finger continued to move.

“Why don’t you play with her cunt?” He suggested, “see how fucking wet she is over this.”

Joe nodded, probably too eagerly but they were past the point of him caring by now. He promptly dropped to his knees beside the bed so he could still watch while Terry fingered your ass. His hand slid up your thigh, spreading your legs even wider, hooking your foot around his knee so your cunt was on display for him. His hand snuck under Terry’s, palming at your pussy and he was met with warm wetness, juices smearing across his hand.

“Fuck querida.” He muttered, “you really fucking like this.”

“Mmmhmmm...” you nodded.

Your body rocked back into the double touch as Joe palmed at your pussy. His thumb slid down through your lips, pressing against your clit, rubbing slow circles against it and he became so entranced by the way you glimmered in the low light of the bedroom he didn’t even notice Terry slipping a second finger into your ass. You couldn’t help it, letting out a low moan as your back arched, pushing your hips up off the bed in a feeble attempt for Bruno to sink deeper into you.

“Oh, fuck Ter…” You groaned and Joe managed to pull his eyes away from your pussy long enough to watch the way the other man was sinking two fingers into you, gently twisting them with a twirl of his wrist.

“God I almost forgot how much of a little whore you are for this.” Terry chuckled, thrusting as deep as he could.

Joe hand pressed against your pussy and he could practically feel you vibrating under the touch, a little whimper coming from your lips as to pressed back into his hand, your stomach lifting off the bed.

“Please.” You whispered, eyes fluttering open to catch his gaze, a near pout on your lips and he wasn’t about to deny you, easily sinking two fingers into your dripping cunt.

Joe sunk his fingers deep into you, groaning when your pussy squeezed around him. His eyes darted between where his hand fucked you and where Terry’s fingers were dipping into you. It only took a few moments before he was matching Terry’s pace, thrusting slow and steady into you, taking his time to really explore and stretch you out. His fingers began to curl, your breath catching when they brushed over the sensitive spot on your walls.

“Jus’ feels s-so good.”

Terry smirked, twirling his fingers again, watching the way your body shivered, “you like both your holes played with?” You nodded feverishly against the bed, your eyes scrunched shut as you let out a series of moans, “dirty girl.”

Joe scissored his fingers, pumping deeper into you before pulling them out, smearing your juices around your pussy and you let out a whine. Less than a second later he sunk three fingers back into your pussy and your body jolted.

“Oh fuck! Yes!”

Pleasure was building deep in your gut, sending out sparks that danced just under your skin from your head to your toes, a tingling sensation that made you want to feel electrified. Terry’s fingers were strong and steady, pumping into you almost lazily as he warmed you up. Joe moved with only a fraction more force, still lazily fingering you, taking his time to explore your pussy like he’d never touched you before. Like he wanted to feel every inch of you before even thinking about making you come, that the moments of watching you tremor and shiver, soaking the sheets between your legs was the superior reward. The dual sensation felt incredible, Terry’s fingertips pressed down and a chuckle broke free from his lips.

“Feel that?” He asked and it was only when he repeated the motion that Joe realized he was talking to him and he swore.

“Shit.” He muttered, feeling the other man do it again before tilting his head in a nod.

Joe matched the movement, pressing his fingertips against Terry’s, running them along the back wall of your pussy and you shuddered.

“Fuck...”

When he did it again, his knuckles dragged over your g-spot and your body jumped off the bed, a cry leaving your lips. The boys continued to toy with you, fingers diving in and out over and over again, curling and pressing, twisting and stretching your holes until you were coated in a sheen of glimmering sweat. The peak of pleasure was teetering right at the edge and you knew you had to be close. Terry let out a dark chuckle when you started grinding against the bed, eager for any amount of friction on your swollen clit, pushing back on their hands with louder whines, ones that he knew were you pleading to go faster, fuck you harder.

Instead of giving in, he nudged Joe, “she’s nice and stretched. Why don’t you come put that plug in?”

Joe nodded, slipping his fingers out of your drenched pussy, smirking at the protesting whine you let out, watching Terry continue to lazily finger your ass. Joe raised the hand with his pussy slicked fingers, ready to accept the plug, his eyes widening when Terry’s hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing his coated fingers to his mouth and wrapping his lips around them. Joe’s breath caught in his throat at the feeling of the other man’s tongue dancing around the digits, cheeks hollowing as he sucked your juices from them. He let out a low swear, his dick twitching between his legs before Terry let them go with a lewd pop.

The corner of his lips curved up into a grin as he turned from the other man, slipping his fingers out of your ass and when you let out another needy whine he spanked you, hard. “Naughty girl. You want this?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then eyes open darlin’.” He handed over the bottle of lube and smallest plug, stepping away from between your legs so Joe could take his spot, his mind still reeling from the sensation of Terry’s tongue on his fingers.

Your eyes cracked open, lips parted as your heart rate picked up once again, watching Joe coat the plug with lube, his green eyes on yours.

“Ready?”

“Fuck yes.”

You couldn’t help but moan as he nudged the toy against you, the cool metal warmed from his hand. The tip of the toy circled your ass, pressing ever so lightly as Joe’s free hand splayed across one of your cheeks, spreading them wider open for him.

“Push it in slowly,” Terry instructed, dripping more lube onto your ass, “watch how nicely she takes it.”

Joe’s eyes were trained on the plug, the groan coming from the back of his throat as he watched your ass stretch around the plug until it was sitting perfectly in your hole, shining jewel nestled between your cheeks. You let out a happy sigh, relaxing into the bed on your stomach, a small smile curving up your lips. 

Terry stepped back from the bed, he was only slightly off to the side, just behind Joe and when he spoke, his hand came into the other man’s view. “You can play with it while it’s in,” his hand mimicked the motions, “twist the base. Pull it in and out slightly, moving it inside her.”

Joe did as the other man instructed and you started to moan again, your fingers digging into the sheets as the heat began to prickle under your skin. Your breath caught in your throat when Joe shifted the plug and you felt your pussy pulsing around nothing, aching to be filled again. Your lips parted, ready to ask for more when Terry spoke again and you could hear the smirk laced within his words.

“When it’s all the way in I like to tap on it.”

“Yeah?” Joe raised a brow at him.

“Give it little spanks, she likes that.”

Joe pulled back his hand, three fingers tapping against the jewel and you let out a soft whine, your back arching to push back toward the touch. He raised his hand higher, spanking you again, this time letting the heel of his hand hit the plug while his fingers slapped into your wet pussy.

“Fuck…” You moaned, clawing at the sheet beneath you, your body beginning to burn up.

Terry chuckled darkly, watching as the other man continued to play around with the plug, teasing you deeper and deeper as he found his own rhythm and groove. It wasn’t taking Joe long to discover what you liked, what kind of sensations drove you mad while playing with your ass.

“You’re so good baby.” He cooed, free hand spanking at the curve of your ass and you let out a low hiss, “so fuckin’ hot like this.” His finger curled around the base of the plug, pulling it out before sinking it back in, “never knew you liked your ass played with this much.” He twisted the plug and you let out a lewd moan, “almost more than you like that pretty pussy teased, huh?”

You did your best to nod, moaning out a cry as he toyed with you. Your entire body was engulfed in an ember of a flame, right on the edge of bursting into more. Your cunt was throbbing, clit swollen and aching to be touched, you wanted Joe’s cock stuffed in you, stretching you out and filling you entirely. Behind you, you could hear the two men talking quietly, small laughs and teases coming from their direction as they watched you shivering, your hips beginning to rock back and forth, needily humping the bed. A cold hand wrapped around one side of your waist and you were certain it was Terry as it squeezed hard, stalling your movement.

“Size up.” He instructed, seeing the small plug easily slipping in and out of you.

“You ready for that Princesa?” Joe asked, “want this gorgeous ass stretched out even more?”

“God yes! Please!” A strangled whimper left your lips when he gently pulled the plug out and Joe groaned as he watched Terry drip more lube over your ass, handing him the larger plug.

Moaning, you arched back into the cool sensation as the new plug slipped in, “oh fuck that feels good.”

“We can tell.” Terry taunted, “you’ve practically soaked the sheets already. Maybe we should make you come? Hmm sweetheart, how do you feel about that?”

“Sounds like a fantastic idea to me.” Joe commented with a grin, spanking the plug and you let out a muffled cry.

“Mmmhm!”

“Good. Then roll over.” Terry instructed and you quickly did as told, dropping onto your back on the bed in the same spot, your legs spreading open and both men could easily see the puddle between them. 

“Needy girl.” Joe growled, his hands skimming up your thighs, squeezing around them in an order to keep them spread.

Terry stepped up behind him, bottle of lube appearing at Joe’s side as Terry’s other hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing softly. The younger man let out a sigh, relaxing at the touch and almost forgetting at the task at hand until Terry spoke, gesturing with the lube.

“Play with her sweet little pussy.”

Joe grabbed the lube faster than he expected of himself, squirting over your cunt causing you to let out a hiss, your body jolting at the temperature. Terry nudged Joe with his knee, urging him to step closer to the bed, 

“I think she wants a little spanking, don’t you darlin’? After all, that pretty ass got one… it would only be fair.”

“Fucking hell.” You groaned, your head rolling back on the bed and only a second later you were yelping when Joe’s hand slapped down onto your pussy.

“C’mon baby,” he cooed, “we know you like that.” Spank. “Pretty clit already so fucking swollen.” Spank. “Bet you’re just aching, aren’t you?” Spank.

“Please!” You cried out, body shaking, juices dripping out onto the sheets.

“Please what?” Terry asked and Joe could feel his breath hot on his neck.

“Fingers, please.”

“You heard her.” Terry squeezed Joe’s shoulder again, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts.

Joe let out a soft groan, not stepping away from him, if anything, he shifted slightly so he was leaning back into the touch, leaving only a fraction of space between their bodies. Joe’s hands slid up your thighs again, palming at your pussy and you moaned. His thumbs brushed between your lips, spreading them open for him, one starting to press circles against your clit while the other one trailed up and down your cunt. 

Your breathing picked up, chest rising faster with each pass of his hands as a flush broke out on your skin and you couldn’t help but whine. Not one to torture you, Joe easily sunk two fingers into your pussy, setting a steady rhythm, your walls already squeezing around him. His wrist twisted, twirling his fingers inside you, curling them perfectly over and over again until you were shaking, a mess between your legs.

“That’s it pretty boy.” Terry’s voice came out low, “you’re so fuckin’ good at fingering her. Just look at how much she likes it.”

Joe nodded, his heart beating heavily against his chest and his head tilted slightly back as he continued to toy with you, as if he was giving the other man better access to his neck, skin sleek and exposed. Terry’s lips brushed against it, feather light and if Joe hadn’t been craving that contact so much, he probably would have missed it. Instead, he let out a groan, melting into the touch and the heat radiating from Terry being nearly flush to him, his hand stilling with fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. Terry’s lips flicked up into a grin and when your eyes flew open, they met his, dark and devilish and your breath hitched at the sight in front of you. 

“You can use your other hand to keep playing with the plug too.” Terry pointed out, his hand drifting over Joe’s shoulder, softly tickling down his side until it met his waist. “Colour pretty boy?”

“Green.” He choked out, his chest so tight it felt like it was about to burst, “so fucking green.”

“Good boy.” Terry murmured.

“More. Please.” Joe could barely keep his hand moving, not meaning to but accidentally torturing you, though your whines were met with deaf ears. His heart was pounding in his head, brain clouded by the feel of Terry’s body against his.

“More what?” The other man asked, his lips brushing against Joe’s shoulder again.

“Touch me.” He whispered, feeling himself pulse at the sheer thought of it.

“I will.” His fingers wrapped around Joe’s forearm, sliding down to his wrist, “focus on her right now.”

With a strangled sigh Joe’s eyes fluttered open, drifting down to your pulsing pussy and guided by Terry, his hand began to move again, slow and steady, pulling set noises from you.

“That’s it Jose… keep those fingers going.” 

After one final thrust, trusting he would continue to finger you his hand slid back up Joe’s arm, squeezing at his shoulder. Joe heard the lube bottle pop open again and a cool sensation along his hip made him shudder, his fingers faltering right as they curled inside your cunt. You let out a gasp, your hips jolting up off the bed when he did so. 

Terry’s hand streaked across Joe’s lower abdomen, leaving trails of sticky in its path and the younger man couldn’t help but moan, aching for more. 

“How about while you make her come, I’ll make you come?” He suggested and Joe groaned, his cock throbbing.

“Y-yes… please.”

Terry’s hand sunk lower, fingers wrapping around the base of Joe’s cock, teasing him as he squeezed gently, “yeah? You want to play with her pussy while I stroke your cock?”

His voice was husking right into Joe’s ear, his breath hot on his skin and Joe felt like he was about to lose his mind, his pulse skyrocketing so fast he thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was barely able to keep his fingers moving, his own need pent up too high to focus on anything but the feeling of Terry’s touch.

“Yes sir. Yes.”

“Thought you might.”

The moment Terry’s hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing down his length Joe let out a louder moan, his head rolling back onto the other man’s shoulder.

“Fuuuck…”

You watched with hungry eyes, your pussy squeezing around his fingers as Joe got his cock stroked by Terry, hand moving slowly up and down, squeezing at the tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum into the mixture of lube. Joe sucked his lower lip into his mouth as his eyes shut, each stroke sending pulses of pleasure through his entire body. His head rolled to the side, eyes opening as he panted, catching Terry watching him and he felt a flush creep into his cheeks, his tongue darting out to wet his parted lips.

“Good boy.” Terry praised, his hand giving a tighter squeeze, “but don’t forget you have something to do right now too.” His head nodded between your legs where Joe’s hand had stilled yet again, “keep those fingers moving. It’s not hard when she’s that soaked. I want these sheets ruined.” His lips were so close to Joe’s the younger man could practically taste him, sucking each breath of word down deep into his lungs just to get a sample and he couldn’t hold back his whines. “Want her thighs shaking, little slut begging for more.”

A huff escaped your lips, watching the display in front of you, “would you just shut up and fucking kiss him already?”

Terry chuckled, glancing to you before his eyes flicked down to Joe who let out another whimper, his lower lip quivering as Terry continued to stroke him and a fire flashed through the older man’s eyes.

“That what you want pretty boy?”

“Mhmm.” His hips rocked forward when Terry’s hand brushed over the head of his cock and he nodded, tilting his face up, “please?”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.” He grumbled out and Terry couldn’t help but laugh at his frustration, shifting so his left hand was now stroking Joe’s dick. 

His now free hand slid up Joe’s body, slipping up the side of his neck until he was curling a finger under his chin, tilting his lips up to meet his and capturing him in a kiss. Joe instantly melted into it, his eyes falling shut as his lips moved with ease against Terry’s. The older man quickly took control of the kiss, keeping it tame, mouths moving together gently and Joe was unable to help moaning into his mouth. Terry pulled away ever so slightly, a grin on his face and Joe whimpered when he squeezed his dick, fingers instinctively curling inside your pussy and you gasped, pulsing around them.

“More…” Joe whispered, his eyes not leaving Terry’s, “please.”

“Good boy.” He murmured, kissing him again. This time his tongue slid across the seam of his lips and Joe immediately parted them, eagerly accepting his tongue into his mouth. 

Without even thinking about it, his wrist began to move again, his fingers starting a steady rhythm, pumping inside you at the same pace Terry’s tongue was exploring his mouth, curling with each thrust. His body began to rock in time with how Terry was stroking him, little moans and groans coming from his throat that Terry happily swallowed down. His tongue swept through Joe’s mouth, tasting every inch, savouring it all to memory as he squeezed his cock harder, hand moving with expertise. When he reluctantly pulled away, Joe’s lips were parted and kiss swollen, a desperate look that was once dormant in the back of his eyes had come to the forefront and Terry knew he wouldn’t be able to get enough of it. He nudged Joe’s cheek with his nose, 

“Focus. You’ve got to make her come before you’re allowed to.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Joe muttered, his head dropping forward before taking a breath and shifting his focus back to you while Terry continued to play with his dick.

Once zeroed in on your pussy he knew exactly what to do to turn you into a whining mess, fingers moving faster, pressing longer and harder on the sensitive spot inside your walls. Right as he felt you squeezing around him, he’d pull them out, smirking as you whined and he’d spank your clit, watching as your body jolted off the bed. He repeated this a handful of times before your thighs were slick with juices and three of his fingers plunged back into your cunt. Leaning over you, his free hand moved to pinch your clit, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

At this new angle, Terry was forced closer to him, basically wrapped around his back as he continued to stroke him in time with how fast you were getting fingered. A fire burst through Joe’s body, he could feel Terry’s cock, thick and hard, leaking pre-cum onto his skin as it was pressed between their bodies and it was the hottest thing he could think of in that moment. He could barely focus on your cunt, his mind drifting to the thought of Terry’s cock pressing into his ass just like he’d watched you take the plug earlier.

Luckily for Joe, your legs began to shake, a cry leaving your lips when Terry took advantage, his free hand reaching out to play with the plug while Joe worked your pussy. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, back bowing off the bed as your peak hit, orgasm firing through your body as the two men made you squirt, drenching the sheets between your legs. 

“That’s it pretty boy.” Terry praised, “knew you had it in you.” He kissed his neck, lips trailing down the side of it, letting his teeth scrape the sensitive skin ever so gently as his hand began to move faster. 

Joe couldn’t help the moan that left his lips, needy and louder than before, “fuck Terry…”

“You like this don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Panting, he was nearly dropped back against the other man’s chest, his mind clouded with pleasure.

“I can feel your cock throbbing, you’re close, aren’t you?”

“So fuckin’ close.”

“Where do you want to come? Her tits? Mouth? Across that pretty stuffed ass?”

“Her mouth.” He groaned, his cock pulsing in the other man’s hand.

“You heard him.” Terry grunted in your direction and you let out a groan, quickly shifting up to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Joe’s eyes were fluttering between open and closed, struggling to hold on as he took you in, mouth open wide with your tongue out, ready and waiting. 

“Good girl.” He managed to croak out, his body trembling in Terry’s arms as he stumbled forward, the head of his cock bumping your lips as Terry continued to jerk him off. 

It didn’t take much longer, Terry’s lips brushing against his skin, the sight of you ready for him, hands on your knees, pressing your tits up, the perfect picture for him to paint with his cum. Spurts of it coming from his cock, landing on your tongue as Terry squeezed him for all he was worth, milking him for every single last drop.

“Fuck! Shit… oh my... fucking god!” His entire body convulsed, shaking and shivering as a string of unintelligible words spilled from his lips. He felt like his knees were about to give out, body drooping but Terry had a strong arm around his waist, holding him flush to him.

“Wait.” He instructed, stroking him until he was sure Joe had given him all he could, painting your tongue in cream, “you’re not done yet pretty boy.”

With one hand holding Joe steady Terry reached out the other one, circling it around your neck and guiding you up from the bed. Joe watched as you rose, keeping your mouth open, eyes locked on Terry until he kissed you hungrily and your eyes fell shut. Terry’s lips sucked your tongue into his mouth, pulling back just enough that Joe could see it all happening and he let out another series of whines. Terry’s tongue surged back into your mouth as he groaned over the taste of Jose, lapping up all the cum he could and Joe felt himself twitching again already.

Terry pulled back with a moan, turning to face Joe with a raised brow and Joe nodded, already parting his lips. He’d watched the two of you play this game many times before, he knew exactly what he was getting into and he definitely wanted a part of it. 

“Please.” He surged forward to accept the kiss, mouth instantly opening in a groan as his lingering cum dripped into his mouth. His tongue dipped into Terry’s mouth, rolling along with his, lapping everywhere he could before Terry pulled away and gave him a small nod.

“Swallow.” Terry watched as his throat bobbed, his mouth opening to show off. “Good boy.” He nudged him toward the bed, "take a breather. You deserve it.”

Joe collapsed onto the bed, his hand pausing briefly to squeeze at your ass, watching the way the plug shifted as you moved towards Terry. His eyes stayed trained on the two of you as the focus in the room shifted once again. 

“On your knees, dirty girl.” Terry patted your cheek, waiting for you to follow the instructions as Joe tossed a pillow to the floor for you. “You know what to do.” He gestured to his cock, hard and leaking cum, twitching between his legs. You let out a whine as you shifted, your thighs rubbing together while your lips formed a pout and Terry chuckled, “not tonight baby. I’m not gonna last long enough to fuck that gorgeous ass. You already got off, now it’s my turn.”

“Yes sir.” You nodded, spitting into your hand before leaning forward and wrapping it around his cock. You gave him a few strokes before wrapping your lips around him, sinking all the way down while your tongue traced patterns across his skin. 

His hand sunk into your hair, pulling lightly and then pushing you all the way down until your nose brushed against his body. Grunting he started to fuck your face, cock already throbbing in your mouth and true to his word it wasn’t long before you were hollowing your cheeks, sucking his cum into your mouth. You opened your mouth wide, your tongue dipping past your lips with a soft groan as he squeezed the last few drops out of his cock.

Terry could feel Joe’s eyes on him and when his gaze flicked up, he saw the hungry look in the other man’s eyes, the tiny whine that betrayed him and the way he shifted on the bed as if he was moving closer to the two of you. His eyes were locked in on the pool of cum on your tongue and Terry smirked, tucking that tidbit away for next time. Joe wanted to taste his cum. Rather than oblige, he tapped your chin, getting you to swallow before offering you a hand and helping you to your feet. His hands ran across your forehead, smoothing back your hair before running through it, 

“Good girl,” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “always such a good little whore for us, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, accepting the tender kiss he left on your lips.

“Relax.” He murmured, a hand sneaking around your body and when you leaned your weight in his direction his fingers gently eased the plug from you. “Bed.” With his free hand he squeezed at your hip, making sure you dropped onto the mattress before he disappeared into the bathroom. 

“Fuck.” You muttered with a soft laugh, rolling onto your side, tugging Jose into your arms. 

“I’ll say.” He chuckled, lips brushing against yours before his tongue snuck into your mouth.

Caught in the lazy kiss, your hands slowly roamed over each other’s bodies, limbs now starting to feel stiff and sore from the night’s activities. You felt Terry’s hand softly close around your ankle and you broke the kiss, looking up at him as he hovered over you, a washcloth gently moving between your legs and you rolled onto your side so he could clean you up properly.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded with a smile, pressing up to kiss him.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He shifted to the other side of Joe, slowly moving the cloth to wipe his cock clean, “how about you?”

“Great.” The other man replied, a dreamy like smile sneaking onto his lips, “fuckin’ great.”

“Good.” Terry tossed the cloth in the direction of the hamper, dropping onto the bed beside Joe who rolled his head to face him. Joe’s hand reached out, cupping Terry’s cheek to pull him into a slow kiss. 

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome pretty boy.” Terry squeezed at his hip as Joe rolled his head to face you, urging your head onto his chest. 

His fingers traced down the side of your cheek, “you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous with that pretty ass all stuffed full.” His lips met yours and you grinned into the kiss.

“Oh yeah?” You asked and he nodded, “maybe I’ll let you fuck it next time.”

With a groan, Joe dropped back into the pillows, Terry laughing on the other side of him, warning you to calm down before you got everyone excited again. Sleep was needed after a night like that. 

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

@kmc1989 @bullet-prooflove @silversprings-mp3 @rosaliedepp @irishavengersassemble @spaghettificationandpretzels @bowdre @dreadfulxives18 @bubbleswrld @gatefleet @amelia-song-pond @witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @momlifebehard @dondivajade @misscharlielulu @alexxavicry @legit9thlunaticwarrior @daffodil-heart @onmykneesformarvel @sinful-muses

[bobbyseyesmile]

Come again?

Morgan’s dark eyes followed you around the room as you stopped to pour yourself some more coffee to properly start the day. You ignored him when you sat down at your desk but you couldn’t ignore your best friends huge smile so you looked up from your laptop.

“Okay, what is it?” you asked, directed at Morgan and Emily. Both shared a quick look before their eyes shifted back, right at you.

“New hair, huh?”

You rolled your eyes but got excited; of course your very attentive colleagues would notice but would the very weird nerd across the room notice it as well?

Just when you opened your mouth to give Morgan a sarcastic reply Garcia walked into the room, her eyes cold and concentrated. Uh-oh, this would be a bad case. But as soon as her eyes met you a smile curled around her lips.

“Meow, mama! What’s with the sexy hair? And is that a new top as well- jeez, you look hot!” You felt your cheeks redden but couldn’t hide your amusement. “Thanks… you think it’s too much?”

“Oh sugar, it’s never too much pizazz. In fact, the world lacks it-“ she sighed which made Morgan shook his head while laughing “But! I know you didn’t dress that sexy for me, which makes me, to be honest, a bit sad but I get it.”

“Get what?” you turned your head towards Emily who had her eyebrows raised. “You got dressed up for someone in the office?!”

“Of course she did…” Morgan smirked “Should have known. So, tell us, who’s the lucky fella?”

Garcia giggled. “World best profilers in this room and you don’t know??” You turned red again and jumped from your seat. “Shouldn’t we discuss the new case? I bet Hotch is already waiting for us.” You gathered some papers and walked away, ignoring their snickering in the background.

“That woman is mysterious.” Morgan whispered but turned his head when Garcia put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh not at all, my love. That woman is just madly in love.” The quirky blonde turned her head and the friends followed her glance to the curly-haired man across the room.

“Seriously?” a small snort escaped the black man “It’s Reid?”

Spencer walked into the circled office when he noticed all eyes on him. Well, not all eyes because yours were fixed on the file in front of you. You didn’t even look up for a second and it gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. You hated him, he was sure… or maybe it wasn’t hate but surely a strong dislike of some sort.

You always turned red when he made a joke or the one time he complimented your hair- you must have been so angry with him, why else turn red?

“Hey wonder boy, we’ve waited.” Morgan turned in his chair and gave him a cheeky smile which Spencer tried to dismiss. “Sorry, I got lost. I’m currently reading Finnegans Wake again; my bookclub decided to study the consciousness writing style as well as the abandonment of narrative conventions to determine-“

“I’m sorry-“ Morgan raised his hands “I’ll never criticise you again but please for the love of all good, stop talking.”

Spencer noticed the way your fingers trembled against the papers. Great, he did it again. He bored you.

“Why study a book that’s literally so complicated that the general public didn’t even read it?” Emily asked and Spencer opened his mouth but was interrupted by Hotch.

“LA needs us-“ he clicked on the small remote control and a series of gruesome pictures filled the screen “They got an Unsub who hunts young women for their hearts. He cuts them out while they’re still alive.”

“Cuts them out? Dear god….” JJ mumbled but that wasn’t even the worst part.

“The coroner determined that he uses a dull knife. These women lived through the whole ordeal.”

Two days later and the team already presented a profile but couldn’t find a viable suspect so the mission continued into nowhere until Hotch came up with a plan.

“Y/N?” he asked and you looked up “Please come see me.” You walked in the small office and closed the doors as your boss presented you with his idea on how to catch this Unsub. The small hairs on your back stood up but you did exactly what Hotch thought you would: You accepted.

“So, did I get this right? We use Y/N as bait for this guy?” Morgan asked once again and you nodded.

“I’m his type. This will work.” Your voice was a bit shaky but you were still determined to stop this utter psychopath.

“Excuse me but we’re dealing here with a deranged psychopath who’s most likely a cannibal and you want Y/N near him?!” It was the first time that Spencer Reid lost his cool in front of Hotch and questioned his very decisions.

“He’s not going to hurt her, Reid-“

“Yeah, he better not.” the younger huffed “This is bullshit.”

“Spencer-“ you said softly and touched his arm “We need to catch this guy, you said it yourself how dangerous he is.”

“Catching him is not worth to put you in immediate danger.” he shook your hand away and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

“We leave in ten minutes.” Hotch mumbled before getting up and signalling the others to leave you two alone.

“Spence-“ you tried again but he shook his head. “There has to be another way.”

“Of course there could be another way but this is the fastest. No other young woman should die.”

“You don’t understand” His voice was shaky and he let out a small laugh “I can’t lose you.” Spencer noticed your reddened cheeks and sighed. “Doesn’t matter how angry you get and how much you hate me but-“

“Woah, Spencer, hold up. What do you mean?”

“I know you’re always angry at me and usually I try to ignore it or, or I don’t know, blame it on my weird nature but this? I can’t let you do this.”

“I’m never angry with you, what are you talking about?” You raised your eyebrows in confusion and it made him stop in his tracks.

“You know, the reddened cheeks, your flared nostrils and always looking at the ground when I’m talking. Those are clear signs of hate or disgust.”

“For someone that smart you are pretty dense, Dr. Reid.” you gave him a soft smile and he looked at you in confusion. “Spencer, I like you. A lot. What you’re describing is me being shy and embarrassed.”

“Come again?” he asked and you took a step in his direction.

“I like you, dumbass.”

Spencer was frozen when he felt your lips on his own. You liked him? The moment he felt you withdraw, his hands were on your hips, stopping you. He felt you smiling against his lips and he smiled back. „Guess I need some profiling tipps, huh?“

„I can help with that.“

You’ll only find my work posted here and and on my AO3 blog. I don’t give consent for my work to be re-posted (in any language) onto any other platform, even if it is with credit. Thank you.

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 10

Bucky x reader

Warnings: swearing, a bit of fluff, nothing particular in this part

Summary: Y/N and Bucky got back to the compound and after some pretty INTENSE mission they can’t stand each other once again… or can they?

A/N: So sorry for the delay guys but my master degree won’t write itself (unfortunately). Hope you all enjoy this part! Also please let me know if I had tagged You properly 💃

Masterlist

The compound was quieter than usual when we arrived, but maybe that was just my perception. Everything felt muted, dulled by the thick fog of emotions I was trying desperately to suppress. The moment I stepped off the quinjet, I felt the weight of Bucky’s presence beside me like an anchor, dragging me down into a sea of confusion, guilt, and something else I couldn’t quite name.

I hadn’t looked at him once during the flight. Not really. My eyes had traced the outline of his form, registered the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands curled into fists and then relaxed. But I hadn’t let myself actually see him, hadn’t let myself meet those ocean-blue eyes that held a storm I wasn’t ready to weather.

And now, as we walked through the halls of the Avengers Compound, the silence between us was deafening.

The others were waiting. Steve, Natasha, Clint—hell, even Tony was there, arms crossed over his chest, an expectant look on his face. And they were all staring. Staring at me, staring at Bucky, then back at me. Wondering. I could see it in their faces, the questions they wanted to ask but weren’t sure how.

Steve took a cautious step forward. “What happened out there?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. What was I supposed to say? That I had been turned into a mindless weapon? That Hydra’s - or Nexus or whoever the fuck it was - programming still clung to me like a ghostly whisper, threatening to resurface at any moment? That I had seen the horror in Bucky’s eyes when he realized I was just like him?

Bucky shifted beside me, his stance stiff, unreadable. He wasn’t going to answer either. Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t owe them an explanation. And neither did I.

Before the silence could stretch any longer, Fury strode into the room. His presence alone was enough to steal the air from my lungs, but the look in his eyes? That was what set my blood on fire.

“Walk with me,” he said, his voice calm, controlled. Like he wasn’t the reason my world had just shattered.

I followed him because I had to, my boots echoing against the polished floor as we turned down a corridor away from the others. Away from Bucky.

The second the door shut behind us, I spun on my heel. “You knew.”

Fury sighed. “I didn’t.”

“Bullshit.” My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “You knew Nexus - just like Hydra - had a list of activation phrases. You knew they experimented on others besides Bucky. You had access to my file—don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

His eye narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. “I knew they tried to replicate the programming. I didn’t know it worked. No one ever saw the living example. Not until now.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Well, congratulations. You found out the hard way.”

Fury exhaled slowly, folding his arms. “I get that you’re pissed. You have every right to be. But you need to focus on what comes next.”

“What comes next?” My hands clenched at my sides. “What comes next is me trying to live with the fact that my mind isn’t my own. That I could be turned into a weapon at any moment, and no one—not even me—would be able to stop it.”

“Not if we figure out a way to fix it.”

His words hung in the air between us, but I had no faith in them. None at all.

I stormed out before he could say anything else. Before the rational part of my brain could take over and remind me that Fury wasn’t the real villain here. That he wasn’t the one who had done this to me. But I needed someone to blame, and right now, he was the easiest target.

By the time I returned to the common area, the others had dispersed. All except Bucky.

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it held all the answers he couldn’t find. I hesitated in the doorway, some part of me hoping—foolishly—that he would look up. That he would say something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

And I couldn’t.

So I walked past him, each step heavier than the last.

I felt his eyes on me then, a burning sensation against my back, but I didn’t turn around.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t even acknowledge each other.

And maybe that was the worst part of all.

——————————————————————————

I hadn’t seen him since returning to the compound. No contact. We didn’t even cross paths. What are the odds? Not once had I spared a thought for what had happened on that mission. That cursed mission. I never thought about how I had turned into a mindless monster. I never thought about how I could turn into one again at any moment, and I definitely never thought about how Bucky and I fucked. Wow. Even thinking that in my head felt like some messed-up nightmare. Did he think about it? I wonder if it was good for him. Ok, what the actual fuck? I don’t give a shit. I need to get out of here. I need to leave this room, do something useful. Maybe Natasha needs help with something? Worth a shot.

I was just closing the door behind me when, of course, I ran into him. He fucking lives right next door. We locked eyes, just for a second. He had been coming out of his room too. And then I bolted for the elevator. Holy shit, I ran like a psycho. What the hell is going on? Are we back to square one? Are we going to avoid each other like the plague again? Does he even remember any of it? Doesn’t matter. I don’t have the energy to be the bigger person and extend the olive branch. Besides, nothing has really changed. I still hated him. But I was slowly starting to forget why. Not literally, of course. Fuck that bastard.

Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder: What if I hadn’t been fully aware of what was going on and it was me who had killed my sister?

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Sam’s voice.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up!” Damn it, Sam. He always has perfect timing.

“You didn’t even come to say hi after the mission,” he chuckled. I shot him a pointed look. I felt like tearing him apart.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I speak without thinking. I heard what happened. You have no idea how sorry I am.” My gaze softened. I really didn’t feel like talking about any of it. I just wanted to stop thinking about it.

“Look, I can tell you’re not in the mood to talk, but just know we’re here for you if you need support. None of us can turn back time, but trust me, we’ll get through it together.” Something inside me snapped, and I was suddenly filled with anger. I had so much support around me. Too bad I couldn’t see it.

"Well, they fixed him, right? So they can also fix me!" I said, full of bitterness.

The words left my mouth before I could stop them, echoing through the dimly lit hallway. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there it was, hanging in the air between us like a challenge.

Somehow, Bucky was already there. When I saw his eyes… His expression was unreadable at first, but then something flickered behind his eyes—something sharp, bitter.

"Fixed?" His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the edge in it. He immediately got closer to us. Shit. I didn’t mean to sound like that.

I turned to face him fully. "I mean, you—" I hesitated, unsure how to say it without making it worse. "You were programmed. Brainwashed. And now you're… better." Yeah just like him I guess I knew how to get things worse than they already were.

His jaw clenched. He came even closer slowly, and even though he wasn’t trying to intimidate me, the weight of his presence was enough to make my pulse stutter. "You think they just flipped a switch and made it all go away?"

I swallowed. "Isn't that what happened?" Fuck just shut up. Where are these words coming from?

His laugh was humorless. "No. It’s not."

Bucky took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "You think Shuri waved some magic wand and suddenly I was free? It took months. Years. And even now, some days, I still wake up expecting to be someone else." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You don’t just get ‘fixed.’ You fight. Every single day. And some days, you lose."

I looked away, guilt pressing against my ribs. Of course it wasn’t that simple. I knew that.

“Buck, she didn’t mean it like tha-”

"So what do I do?" I cut Sam off, my voice barely above a whisper. Sam was just as much in a shock as I was. I don’t know if I wanted some kind of advice from him or what but it has already slipped out of my mouth.

Bucky studied me for a long moment, then said, "You start by accepting that this is going to be a war. One only you can fight." We just looked at each other completely forgetting that Wilson was in the room with us. I guess that last look was what sold us. Or sam spent some more time with my beloved black widow.

As Bucky turned and walked out of the room, the heavy silence settled back around us. The air felt thick with everything that had been left unsaid. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or frustrated that he left, but his absence didn’t make the tension any easier to handle. Instead, it seemed to magnify it.

Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, softer now. I started to walk away.

“Y/N, hold up a second.”

I stopped, but didn’t turn around right away. His tone—calm but probing—was enough to make my stomach tighten. I knew he was trying to navigate this carefully, trying not to step on any landmines, but I could tell he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Something happened between you two?” Sam asked, his voice steady, but with an edge of concern that I couldn’t ignore.

I was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer without making things worse. The last thing I wanted was to open up about what had happened on that mission. What Bucky and I had become. But Sam had always been observant, always able to sense when something was off, even when I was trying to bury it deep.

“No,” I said at first, but the word felt hollow, like it didn’t belong to me. I could feel the anger and frustration bubbling under my skin, and the more I held it back, the more it seemed to grow. “Nothing happened. It’s just... complicated.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Complicated? I don’t buy that, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you two interact, or… don’t interact, I guess. There’s something there. And I’m guessing it’s not just because of the mission. Something happened, didn’t it?”

I clenched my fists, but I didn’t look at him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk, it was just that I didn’t know how to put any of this into words. I didn’t know what had happened to us—what had happened to me. How could I explain this mess to someone who had no idea what it felt like to have your mind hijacked, to be turned into a weapon? To be turned into something else? It wasn’t just the mission; it was everything that had followed it. The things I couldn’t forget.

“Why does it matter?” I asked, not looking at him. “We’re both screwed up. We both have our demons. Why does it have to be something more?”

Sam sighed, clearly not buying it, but he didn’t push any further. He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “Because I’m your friend, Y/N. And I can see something’s eating at you. And I’ve seen Bucky go through the same thing. Maybe you both need to talk about it. You know, for real.”

I felt the sharp pang of guilt in my chest. I hated that Sam could see through me, that he knew something was wrong even when I was doing everything in my power to hide it. But at the same time, his concern made me want to pull away, to shut him out. This was my fight. Not his.

“Sam, it’s not… It’s not something I can just talk about,” I said, my voice strained. “It’s too messy. Too much has happened, and I’m not even sure I’m ready to deal with it. Hell, I don’t even know where to start.”

Sam nodded, giving me the space I needed. He didn’t press me, but his gaze lingered on me, understanding but patient. “I get that. But when you’re ready, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

I nodded, but I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. Sam was right. I didn’t have to go through this alone. But in that moment, the idea of talking about it—of unpacking the chaos inside me—felt impossible. How could I explain it to someone else when I wasn’t sure I even understood it myself?

After a long pause, Sam gave me a small smile, one that was more comforting than it should’ve been. “Just don’t shut us out, okay? You’ve got a lot of people here who care about you. And even though it doesn’t seem like it, you don’t have to carry this all on your own.”

I didn’t respond immediately. I wasn’t ready to admit how much I wanted to let it all out, how much I wanted to find someone I could talk to. But that wasn’t something I could do yet. Not now. Not with everything still so raw.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sam nodded, but there was a trace of worry in his eyes. “Alright. Just... don’t wait too long, okay? You’re not the only one who’s been through hell. And we’re here to help you through it, even when it’s hard.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “Thanks, Sam. I’ll think about it.”

He gave me one last, thoughtful look before clapping me lightly on the back. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. I’m here when you need me.”

As Sam turned to leave, I stood there for a moment, alone in the hallway. The emptiness felt like a weight, suffocating in its silence. I wasn’t ready to face the truth of what had happened with Bucky, but Sam was right—there was something between us. Something unspoken, something buried deep. And sooner or later, I would have to confront it.

But for now, I just needed to breathe.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sunlight filtering in through the windows cast long shadows on the floor, making the space feel like it belonged to a different world. Everything was still—no conversations, no clattering of weapons or the hum of machinery. Just the faint scent of sweat and polished wood that seemed to hang in the air, a constant reminder of the hours spent training, perfecting moves, or escaping from memories that never seemed to leave.

I stood in front of the mirrors, my hands wrapped, gloves on, eyes fixed on the punching bag in front of me. The weight of everything—the mission, the conversations with Fury and Sam, the tension with Bucky—it all felt too heavy. I needed to let it out, channel it into something, anything, that could take away the feeling of drowning under my own thoughts.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s see what you’ve got today.”

I barely flinched when Natasha's voice cut through the silence. She had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people, especially when they were lost in their own world. Her presence was like a weight in the air—always steady, always knowing exactly when to show up. I didn't turn to face her right away. My mind was still tangled in a mess of confusion and anger that I couldn’t shake off.

"You're looking a little distracted this morning," Natasha continued, stepping closer. I could feel her eyes on me, even without looking. "Something on your mind?"

I shrugged, trying to mask the frustration building up inside me. "Nothing important."

Her laugh was low, teasing. "Right. So, nothing important is keeping you from landing a good punch? That must be a first."

I swung at the punching bag, my fist connecting with a satisfying thud, but the impact didn’t bring the release I was hoping for. The tension still clung to me, thick as fog. I felt Natasha's eyes on me, always perceptive, always reading between the lines.

"Sam told me about your little chat last night," she said, leaning casually against the wall. Her voice was light, but there was an edge to it that made me stiffen. I was in fact going to kill Sam for this. "He said you were pretty… tense. Something you want to share? Because, you know, we’re all friends here."

I froze mid-punch, my fist still hovering over the bag, and for a moment, I was tempted to walk away. But Natasha knew exactly what buttons to push. I could feel her watching me, waiting, expecting me to crack.

“Nothing to talk about,” I muttered, my jaw clenched as I resumed hitting the bag with more force than necessary. “Just… stuff. You know.”

“Stuff,” Natasha repeated, her voice laced with amusement. “Right. Because 'stuff' is exactly what’s been keeping you up at night, huh? You know, I’m not blind, Y/N. I saw the way you two were acting. You think I don’t notice?”

I swung harder, frustration building in my chest. “I don’t want to talk about it, Natasha. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Natasha said, her voice turning soft, but the teasing glint in her eyes remained. “You know, I’ve been through my fair share of complicated. Bucky’s not exactly an easy person to… forget, is he?”

The name felt like a punch to the gut. The images from that night, the mission, the way everything had spiraled out of control—they hit me all over again. But I refused to let it show. I wasn’t about to let her see me break.

“I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me, Nat,” I shot back, too quickly, my frustration leaking through the cracks in my control.

She didn’t flinch. “Oh, I don’t need to analyze you. I just need to get you to admit what you already know.”

“Which is?” I asked, turning to face her, my fists still clenched.

Natasha took a few steps closer, her gaze never leaving mine. “That you’re scared,” she said, her voice quiet but intense. “Scared of what you did, scared of what you might do again. And scared of him.”

The words stung like a slap, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was too close to the truth. Too real. I was scared. Terrified, actually. But I wasn’t about to let her—let anyone—see that.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said, my voice tight. "I’m fine. Really."

Her gaze softened, but the smile never left her face. "You're not fine, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend with me. But… if you don’t want to talk about it, fine. Just don’t go hiding away, alright? We’ve all been through this, in our own way."

Before I could respond, the gym door burst open with a loud bang, and Tony Stark strolled in, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice loud and brash. “You’ve got some visitors. From Wakanda.”

@maryssong23 @lonelyghosts-stuff @greatenthusiasttidalwave @xjoaniex @buckysblondie @vikingqueen28

[the-ate-show]

00:07 The Muse Wc: 8.0K

A/N: lil relationship moment to give some backstory, lil mixed media in there

The air was nice, cool enough to not have to bundle up. Tonight, your nerves were on fire. You smoothed over your dress once more, making sure it fit just right. You were supposed to be interviewing the creators of this popular tv series, trying to figure out some new addition to your article. With one final adjustment to yourself on camera, you and the videographer took your designated spots. The celebrities filed in, occasionally stopping to give you their two cents. You scribbled notes, played along with their words, and tried to be respectful.

Thankfully, your connections paid off, and you were swept away to be one of the insiders. This was new, you were nervous, but pushed through, taking interviews in a controlled environment, and receiving many compliments on your outfit and conduct. It was only a short list of A-listers to ask, then a few more lower grades. What interested you was a bold instruction written on your guide, ‘LEAVE SCREEN WRITER’, you had inquired, and your cameraman told you he had a tendency of ditching the interviews, so he was a waste of time.

“Point him out to me,” you asked, and the man scanned the area, then pointed at a man stood off to the side, nursing some red wine. 

He had a very brooding look to him, captivating almost. You ultimately decided not to talk to him.

You parted from your camera man, with clear instructions to both you and him to just enjoy the rest of the night. You figured now would be a good time to organise a few of your thoughts before your ride arrived. You sat on a little table in the corner, taking out your notepad and trying to decipher your illegible handwriting. You must’ve been at it for a while, until you noticed someone join you at the other side of the table. Habitually, you got up, but the person lifted a hand up gesturing for you to stop.

You sat back down, recognising him immediately.

“You didn’t come for an interview,” he took a sip out of his cup from earlier, eyes casted at a distant table.

“I was told you weren’t a fan of those, mr. Yu,”

“Ah, appears you know more than it seems.”

“I did my research,” you smiled softly. “I’m not meant to speak my bias, but your work on this movie is undeniable skill. In this specific area of work, I tend to have to talk to alot of people who’ve only pulled strings. Your work on that movie was phenomenal, sir,”

He didn’t respond, only sat up a little straighter and finally looked at you. He took a quick survey of you, humming at the expensive purse you carried.

“Well,” his lips tugged at the corners slightly, “I’m an open book,” he gestured to your notepad and you nodded quickly, clicking your pen and writing down his answers to your questions.

That night, excitement bubbled inside of you, and you pulled an all nighter to finish up the article. It was very centered around him, this was huge after all, for someone dubbed ‘elusive and exclusive’, you got very easy access to his thoughts. You felt like a superhero of some kind. The article was perfectly drafted by the third time, and you sent it off to your agency for them to give it a scan. You slept soundly that night, draped on your couch in a position that would definitely cause neck problems in the morning.

Approved, published, and boosted your career even further. You were over the moon! 

Life dulled down a bit after that, with no new hotshots to talk to or celebrities to chase down, you spent your time writing up bigger, longer articles on something you dubbed ‘Social Rebirth’. Countless celebrities seemed to have suddenly sprung into fame, with gaps in their timelines that indicate there’s more to them than what meets the eye. You were up writing particularly late, some cheesy early 2000’s music playing as you replayed the same files over and over again in hopes you’ll catch a change in time stamps. 

A ping popped up on your phone, a notification from email. You launched the app on your laptop, half expecting another ad on deals that somehow slipped your spam box.

Instead… a curious little sender.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss…,

Hope this email finds you well. I reviewed your article about me, and I have to say, I’m impressed. You have a very eloquent way of articulating your words, in a mesmerizing fashion that kept me hooked. Oddly, I find myself regretting not giving you more information, as that article didn’t feel long enough. Perhaps we should arrange another interview, you’ll find I have much to offer.

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

Oh crap. You didn’t expect him to actually read it, no one ever did! It wasn’t made for celebrity consumption, and you wondered how many snide jokes you snuck in, as usual, without knowing he’d read it. He sent it only recently, so you responded.

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Dear Mr Yu,

Thank you for your feedback, and kind words. I try to not cross the line between professional and invasive questions, which I seem to have very clumsily blurred during our conversation. 

Although, if you feel as though you’d be comfortable giving me more to work with, then another article would surely be in the works. 

Signed.

You leaned back, rubbing your hand up and down your face, then grabbing a bite of food. You just about went to take another when a reply came.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss, 

That was quite the fast response, are journalists nocturnal? 🤔

No worries, you didn’t come off clumsy at all. How about tomorrow evening at sunshine cafe, 18:00?

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

You stuttered a bit, unsure of how to reply. Between his lame joke and the impending invite, you struggled to find a response. 

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Haha, most of us tend to have unruly sleep schedules, part of the gig I assume.

I’m glad, see you there!

The next morning you could hardly think straight, drumming up questions, words to use to sound more impressive, potential outfits, so much to do, so little time. By 5:25, you were out the door, despite it only being a ten minute walk. You recited your introduction again and again in your head, sometimes out loud too, which the stray cats judged you for. You finally arrived, deciding to grab you both a seat when you noticed him already there. You took a deep breath, then walked over to the seat adjoining his. He got up, shaking your hand and smiling professionally.

“Nice to see you again,” you started, sitting down as he did. “Truly and honor to have this opportunity,”

“Please. It’s my honor. ” he shook his head, “I’ve reviewed some of your other work, all very fascinating topics, I tend to stray away from journalists to avoid,” he gestured vaguely, “Media issues,” 

You nodded, pursing your lips, “It’s a slippery slope, one moment a serious topic the next a secret. It's important to be able to balance gossip and facts.”

He nodded along, “Appears we’re both early. I was going to take this time to look over the menu,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. You giggled.

“Me too actually, came to get comfortable first and I guess we had the same idea,”

A sweet waiter came over and took you guys’ order shortly after, and you began the interview.

“So, sir,”

“Just Yu is fine,”

You blinked, suddenly forgetting what you were going to say. “Right, Yu, uhm there seems to be a few gaps in your wiki page, if you don’t mind I start with those,”

“Not at all,” he sipped on his coffee, black.

You clicked your pen, starting to finally enter your zone, “What did you study in university?”

“Film studies,” he replied immediately.

“And what inspired you to-”

“And you?”

“Pardon?”

“What did you study?”

You giggled slightly, taking a sip of your own drink, “You’re not supposed to ask me questions,”

“Well how’s that fair?” he frowned, but there was a hint of playfulness in his actions.

“Majored in communication, minored in media ethics,” you smiled and he made an impressed face.

“I’ve always had an affinity for theatre,” he spoke, and you jotted down in note format what he said. “The spoken word, the written word, could never speak to me like the imagery that could be created from mere concepts. Anything is possible, with just the right ideas.”

You nodded along, “So you think a good film can be enticing without the need for speech?”

“Speech is necessary for captivation, but what is more important is body language.” He adjusted himself to stare at you directly, and you caught his gaze with a nervous smile, trying to decipher what he’s doing. “You’re nervous,”

“Doesn’t take a genius,”

“No, it doesn’t.” he gave you another once over. “You’re trying to seem more open to get me to speak more, trying to match my pace and using flattery to ensure this doesn’t go south,”

“In typical fashion of someone who’s just trying to do their job right,” you squirmed a bit, feeling like his words were beginning to hit too close.

You clicked your pen again, setting it down. He quirked an eyebrow, you licked your lips and spoke. “This one is off the records,” he nodded. You brought a hand up to rest your cheek on, narrowing your eyes slightly to try to get a read on him. “Why do you hate interviews so much?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, pushing his glasses up his nose. You stared at him encouragingly.

“Being hounded with personal questions. Negative stringing of words together.”

“Bad press,” you nodded, smiling as the food came out. “You could say that,” 

You both ate in silence for a moment, then he spoke. “Why’re you nervous? This is your job,”

You shrugged, “Never done it in this kind of setting, or with someone as closed off,”

He raised an eyebrow and you backtracked, “I mean, you’ve been nothing but an open book, it’s just that- you know you usu-”

“I understand,” a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. You sighed, choosing to just stuff your face to prevent making a fool of yourself until you recollected your thoughts.

“So your movie,” you started, “‘Cogito ergo sum’, what exactly had inspired you?”

“Well, in all actuality…”

And thus, the interview was concocted, and you went home, deciphering your notes and trying to draft a valid piece. 

‘I think, therefore I am. But what are we? The age old question. This movie, a simple step into a deeper universe of what humans really come down to, and what a person truly is. What is intention and what is action? How do we separate between good and bad?

I had the privilege of conversing with talented screen writer Philip Yu, where he shared with me some details about the movie you may not know, as well as more insight as to why he truly refrains from the limelight’

You leaned back, staring at your notes, then at your half finished takeout bag, then at your laptop. You got up to grab the food from the earlier meeting, when you noticed a napkin with some neat black inked writing.

“Dear miss…

Please do send me the article link when it’s finished, as I am ever curious.

Thanks, Philip Yu,”

On the back of the napkin? His phone number. You bit your lip, immediately saving it on your phone, then sitting back on the couch with your food. You smiled a little to yourself, celebrating this career success.

The article was sent, returned and signed off within a few days, and you watched it gain traction lovingly. In a moment of peace, you texted him.

You giggled a little, feeling your face heat up. 

A little while later, he texted you back a date, time, and place. A fancy little restaurant downtown with shining reviews, on the following Friday at 6pm. You decided to just meet there, given it’s probably a horrible idea to give a stranger your address. 

So, you searched your outfit for a pretty maroon dress, with glittery details and a lovely cut. You spent hours getting ready, perfecting your hair and makeup, testing out different heels from past events, and jewelry you were gifted. By the time 5:20 rolled around, you were ready, just taking a few phone calls as you walked down, your friend had very kindly offered to give you a ride, seeing as your car’s tires had been slashed a week earlier by someone who was definitely sent by a celebrity. You entered her little car, smiling at her.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself! Excited?”

“Nervous,”

“Oh I bet! A screenwriter. He’ll turn your date into a movie,”

“Oh har har,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d be lucky if I don’t fumble with my words the entire time. Have you seen him?”

“The dude in the glasses you interviewed? Total cutie, but I must say, the glasses make him look like some kind of tech wiz,”

“He might be. I should ask that,” you scribbled it into your notes app, right after the twenty two other conversation starters. She leaned over at a red light and snatched your phone.

“Hey-”

“Ah ah ah, you need to be normal. No overplanning,”

“I just don’t wanna come off weird,” you sighed.

“But you are weird. Who else writes down what they’re interested in so they don’t forget?”

“Plenty of people!”

She made a ‘settle down’ gesture with her hands, rolling her eyes. “Relax juliette,”

You pouted, sinking into your chair.

“If this all goes south, text me, I’ll make up an emergency,”

“Say your grandma fell down the stairs,”

“Why does it always have to be my grandma? I like her, I feel weird saying she fell. The poor lady,”

“Do whatever girl, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed as you pulled up.

“Are you gonna text him?” she asked, parking.

“He’s here,” you responded, checking yourself in the mirror.

“How do you know?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just saw him enter.” you smelt your breath and nodded. “How do I look?”

“Like a doll. Now go do your best, you’re live in five,” she joked and you giggled, thanking her for the ride and stepping out. You made your way to the entrance, heart beating out of your chest.

At the doorway, the hostess asked for your reservation, you said your name and they walked you to a secluded table. Candles illuminated the space, a soft jazz band playing somewhere nearby.

He got up immediately upon seeing you, smiling warmly and extending a hand to shake yours.

“Hey,” you said quietly, watching as he pulled your chair out. “And they say chivalry is dead,”

He chuckled a little, sitting on the other side. You spoke, “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,” he finally spoke, he cleared his throat, opening the menu.

You felt a little awkward, he didn’t seem very interested in small talk. Alas, you opened the pages, inspecting what they had to offer.

“Any recommendations?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

“The steak here is a delight,” he spoke ever so formally, which made you second guess whether or not this was a date.

“Right, what’re you getting?”

“The steak,”

Right right riiiiggghhttt. Stupid question. Where’s your notes app when you need it?

He called the waiter over, who took two orders of steak, as well as some appetizers and drinks. Yu kept his eyes trained on the table, only occasionally looking up to steal glances. You leaned back, already feeling slightly disgruntled.

“Soooo…”

He looked up at you, waiting for your continuation. “Are you… up to date with the latest technology?”

“I’m not sure I follow…?”

“Nevermind,”

The food came after that, and conversation stopped while you both ate. You definitely felt dejected, like this whole thing was a major bust. By the end of your meal, you offered to split the bill, which he only gave you a disgusted look at while passing his very high end card to the waiter. On the way out, he opened the door for you. You thanked him, and you both stood side by side in front of the restaurant for a while.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, swallowing.

“I can just Uber,” you responded.

“It’s okay, I can drive you, I insist.” you nodded, and he led you over to his car. A sleek, matte black ride, close to the ground, could be a convertible.

“Sweet ride,” you whistled upon seeing it, and for the second time tonight, he smiled. 

“Thank you,” 

He opened the door for you, then went to the drivers side, starting the engine as you gave him directions.

The ride was silent, aside from the ambience of the car noises. This night was a total bust, you’d spent half of it spaced out, and the other trying to decipher what he was thinking, and the steak wasn’t even good. You’d severely misread the room, this was most definitely not a date, and you got all dressed up for it. He must think you’re some kind of desperate loser. You finally reached your house, you bid him a good night, which he swiftly returned, and you sulked up to your apartment, removing your heels at the door and dragging your feet every step. You wiped off your makeup, took a shower, got into your pajamas and wallowed in bed while your cat sat next to you, listening to you rant. You opted to just not text him, leave the ball in his court and just go to sleep.

You missed your alarm on Saturday, groaning as you woke up to the sunlight filtering in your room, and your cat meowing at his lack of breakfast.

“M’cominnggg relax,”

You kept your eyes closed, trying to get more shut eye before a knock came at your door. Weird, considering it wasn't even noon yet. You slipped into your slippers, stumbling past your wailing companion to the door, making sure to grab a robe on the way. You rubbed the sleep out your eyes, then opened it, to find a delivery guy. He held a bouquet of flowers and a note. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Package for miss…”

“Yeah? I didn’t order anything though?” you grabbed it, looking at it funny. “Thanks,” the guy walked off, and you walked towards your kitchen island, staring at the note.

‘Dear…,

My apologies for coming off as rude, I haven’t done this in a while. If you don’t mind, I’d like a do-over whenever you’re free, if you’ll allow me, of course.

Signed, Yu.’

Well, that was certainly a change of events.

So the following Friday, you helped arrange a date. You decided on a slightly less nice restaurant, one you knew the food was great at. Truth be told, your friend’s family owned it. Simple, lots of conversation starters, and great food. You opted to just meet there at 7 for simplicity. 

You fumbled with your shoes, then grabbed your purse and headed out the door, casting a quick ‘be good’ over your shoulder. You walked over to the restaurant, trying to soothe your rapid fire nerves. The door decor jingled gently as you pushed it open, smiling at your friend's dad, who just gave you a curt nod as he continued on orders- the place was packed. You threw a glance at the clock, still 6, so you decided to cool off by helping out. Almost like muscle memory, you grabbed some finished plates off of tables, and waited a few more. The place was packed as of now, so you didn’t really have time to chit chat with her. Eventually, by the time 6:30 rolled around, you were just putting orders in when your friend walked up to you, cleaning a cup.

“Isn’t that him?” she gestured with her head outside, a very overdressed man stood staring at the ground near a nice car, holding a bouquet of tulips.

“Yep,”

“He just got here,” she mused. “Both of you are the early types. God you really are made for each other,” you elbowed her.

“I hardly know him. Should I… maybe go out and call him in? Or text him,”

“Nah. Let him come in when he’s ready,”

So you did, spent the next half an hour helping her out, wiping tables and waiting others. He, on the other hand, paced, then smoked, then sat in his car for a little, then paced again, until at 7 sharp he opened the door. You were in the back, grabbing something from the freezer when she ushered you out, all but pushing you into him.

“Hey,” you said softly, feeling underdressed as he dawned pants and a button up with a branded sweater. 

“Hey back,” he responded with a nod, trying to match your smile.

“You look great,” you said shyly, adjusting your top.

His eyes widened, and he swallowed, stumbling over his words, and ending up with a simple “Thanks,” which clearly even he wasn't satisfied with. He shoved the colorful bouquet into your face and you grinned.

“Are these for me?” you took them after he nodded, pouting at how cute this way. “Seriously, you shouldn’t have,” you gushed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. 

A young man came over soon after, bringing you to a table in the far corner. You sat on the chair on the outside, him on the chair on the inside facing you. Bread sticks, menus and condiments decorated the table. 

You scanned the menu, and he spoke from behind his, “You also look great,”

You giggled, “Thank you,”

You placed your orders, and the waiter left. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you leaned back, gazing out the window. He let out a hum, looking at you, then back at the restaurant with a confused look. You followed his gaze, finding nothing behind you. “Is… everything okay?”

“Perfect. Everything’s perfect,” he trailed off, clearing his throat and just now seeming to notice the bottle non alcoholic spritzer, which he made quick work of opening and pouring into the two wine glasses. He picked yours up to hand it to you, and only now did you notice the intensity of his tremor.

“You seem nervous,” you took the glass from him and he ducked his head, a small smile appearing.

“You’re not supposed to mention that,” he chuckled.

“It’s hard to ignore, I feel bad, is there anything I could do to soothe your nerves?”

“No you’re perfect- I mean it’s perfect,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m fine. It’s fine,”

“Right,”

“Right,”

A moment of silence washed over you two, and the food was delivered. You stared down at the pizza for a moment. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

He pushed a tongue into his cheek, “Where the Willows grow,” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t you write that one?”

He chuckled, giving a slight nod, raising his hands in surrender.

You whistled, “Thought you could pull a fast one on me? Jokes on you mr smart guy, I did my homework,”

“Oh yeah? Me too, miss know it all,”

You leaned closer, and so did he. “Tell me something I don’t know,”

“Mhm. I know you turned down writing for vogue,”

“Pfft, public information,” you pressed your tongue in your cheek. “I know you had a rebellious phase,”

He gasped, jaw dropping slightly before he recollected himself with a soft chuckle. “You really went for the jugular huh…” he whistled. “You didn’t happen to see any photos of that?”

“Nope. Surprisingly almost all were scrubbed clean from the internet. How fascinating,” you giggled.

“Then?”

“I have connections, pretty boy,” you winked and he made an impressed face, taking a sip of his drink. “Looks like I did more research,”

“Don’t jump the gun here,” he smirked, leaning back and gazing at you from behind his glasses. “I know that hit that was sent out on you wasn’t fake,” 

You raised your eyebrows, leaning forward a bit. “Color me impressed, where’d you learn that one?”

He mocked, “Connections,”

“Are you part of the NIS or something?” you asked, half joking, “Don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids,”

He smiled, shaking his head softly. “No. Just a really huge fan,” he leaned forward as well. “Why’d you try to make it look staged?”

“Make sure people won’t get any ideas,” you frowned.

“Smart girl,” he said with an impressed face.

You swallowed thickly, looking at his eyes, then momentarily down to the food. He moved back, leaning his head against the wall behind him, eyes snapping from behind you back down to the food. You turned around, finding nothing, feeling creeped out.

“Can I ask you… a personal question?” He said, looking at his hands. Which were using a fork and knife to cut his pizza. How posh.

“Shoot,”

“What’s your favorite color?” he deadpanned, you gave an incredulous look till a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“A little deep for a first date, no?”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “It’s a must,”

You gestured to your outfit, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Good choice,”

“What’s yours?” you humoured him.

“I don’t think I have one,”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips, “Then why’d you ask?”

“Good conversation starter,” he shrugged.

You nodded slowly, “Sooo, do you have any siblings?”

He smiled, “Stop asking me questions you know the answer to,”

“Fair, but still,”

“Fine I’ll bite, I’m an only child,”

“Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you giggled. “Guess you’re just very… formal,”

“That’s code for weird isn’t it?” he dropped his head and you kicked him gently under the table.

“You’re a little weird, but in a nice way,”

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Thanks,” His eyes landed on another table and he furrowed his brows, this time you scoffed.

“Did you come here to finish me off or something?” you turned around fully, narrowing your eyes to try to find what seemed to distract him so much. Finally, you caught it.

“Have they been there the whole time?” you asked and he nodded. You sighed heavily, turning to face him then getting up, “One moment,” you stormed over before he could stop you, snatching the newspaper from your friend, who wore a fake mustache.

You whisper-yelled, “What gives?!”

“Just making sure you’re fine!” she matched your tone.

A cough from behind you alerted you that her dad was also doing the same. You went back to the table, fumbling in your purse for the tab when Yu grabbed your hand, “What’re you doing?”

“Paying. Since apparently privacy doesn’t exist here,” 

He got up, “I got it,”

“No i insis-”

“I got it.” he said firmly, effectively shutting you up. He walked over, scanned his card, you grabbed your purse and flowers before leaving.

The fallen leaves on the sidewalk crunched against both of your shoes. You still simmered inside from her little stunt, and he wore a very uncomfortable look.

“Listen I’m really sorry about them,”

“Who are they?”

“Family friends,” you sighed, “Didn’t realise they were watching,”

He stared at you for a while before breaking into a fit of laughs, “Oh my god, I thought you were being stalked or something. I was a moment away from calling the cops,”

You giggled too, trying to hide your embarrassment. He continued, “It’s kind of sweet though, if I was a serial killer that would've been handy,”

“You wouldn’t have killed me in the middle of the store,”

“No. I would’ve invited you back to my apartment and done it there,”

You were nearing a park when you finally worked up the courage to slide your hands into his, “How romantic,”

He hesitated, then squeezed your hand, still wearing a stupid little smile. You nudged his shoulder and he tilted his head slightly.

“This is a date right?” you teased and he shrank slightly, glancing at his shoes.

“I really messed it up the first time huh,” he pouted.

“This can just be our first time,”

“That’s not how that works,”

“Who’s counting anyways? Plus the flowers you sent were pretty cute,”

“You think?” he said under his breath, trying to suppress an even wider smile.

“Yeah. My cat really liked them as well,”

He made an ‘aww’ face, “You have a cat?”

“Yes!” you giggled, “he’s the cutest little thing ever,”

“How fitting,” he smiled and you bit your lip, looking away from him. “Has he got a name?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied. “He’s a rescue,”

“Ah, you’re a pretty moral person then,”

“I try,” 

“What breed is he?”

“Ah I forgot the name, one of those expensive ones,”

“Persian? Ragdoll? Short hair?” 

You were cut off when a frisbee came flying at the two of you, almost hitting him in the head but he dodged. A dog ran past you both, a huge one, like a german shepherd or husky, in search of the frisbee, effectively knocking you into him. He stopped you from falling, watching the dog owner with a disappointed glare. The man called out a half hearted apology, and you stood up straight. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded, “Yep,”

“How about dessert?” 

You huffed, “You’re a bad influence on me, I’m already full,”

“Come on I’m sure you have room for something sweet,”

You both walked over to his car, he opened the door for you and you sat on the maroon leather seats.

“It’s still impressive every time,” you mused as he entered, starting the engine with a shrug.

“My dad and I worked on this one when I was a teenager,”

“No shot,” you scoffed. “It’s ridiculously nice. Didn’t peg you as a car guy though,”

“I’m not, he is, but it got me working with my hands,”

“Ah so you’re like a crafty person?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Moment there’s hot glue involved I fail. I like mechanical work though.”

“Like… changing tires?”

“Do you know a single person who likes changing tires?”

“You maybe,”

“No, I don’t like changing tires. I do like upgrading cars though,”

“Despite not being a car guy,”

“Despite not being a car guy, yes,”

He pulled into a parking lot of a quaint little 24/7 type shop that sold all kinds of processed goodies.

“This is quite the contrast to where we were last time,” you hummed, stepping out of the car, lacing your hands with his again. This time he reciprocated with more confidence.

“Food’s good here, they’ve got good snacks,”

“Aren’t you like a billionaire? Don’t you have like fancy butlers in your house to get you food?” he shook his head in mock annoyance, opening the glass door and letting you in first.

“I’m not like a billionaire, I am a billionaire,”  you scoffed and he chuckled, “Plus, no fancy anything could ever compare to these,” he grabbed a soda for himself, then one for you.

“So a trust fund baby. How’d you know it was my favorite?” you furrowed your eyebrows, taking the vanilla drink.

“Thought we already established I did my homework,” he pressed the cold drink into your arm playfully, which made you squirm away from him. “Is that all you see me as?”

“No,” you said on the way to the register, he grabbed a heart shaped cake. “Sorry, used to being able to slip insults in when talking to the upper bracket,”

“And they just let you?”

“Well to be fair they likely miss it, or maybe they let it slide I don’t really know,”

“Makes sense…”

You raised an eyebrow, he grabbed the plastic bag and stared at you with a small smile, continuing, “If such a pretty girl insulted me I’d also let it go,” he walked past you, and you stared at his back as he left, then caught up to him.

“Smooth,” unmistakably so, his cheeks bore a reddened color.

Outside, you struggled a bit to open your soda, considering the cold made you lose your dexterity, so he offered to help. As he came to hand you back your drink, he miscalculated the pass, and it slipped, spilling directly on you. You gasped, and his jaw fell.

He immediately retracted his hand, switching between covering his mouth and stumbling words.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally got to, slipping his sweater off to give to you, leaving him in a button up.

You overcame the shock finally, and laughed, which made him falter. 

“It’s fine, no big deal,” you replied, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No, I should've been more careful,” he shook his head, pulling the sweater over your head, and smiling when you peaked at him. He helped you slip your arms into the respective armholes, then tugged it to straighten it on you.

“It was an honest mistake,”

“Still, I’m really sorry, it was a nice dress,”

“Washing machines exist,” You made a show of putting a hand on your hip, “How does it look?”

“Cute,” he said simply, maintaining his proximity to you.

Perhaps you two would have kissed, had the rain not began to pour in buckets on the street, making you both sigh in annoyance.

“There goes our plans,”

He stared off for a moment, “I live right there… if you’d like to maybe…” he continued the sentence under his breath.

“Wow. Was this all some kind of ploy to take me back to your house? Is this rain even real?” you teased, and his face reddened.

“No I just-”

“And why? Does your car not work in the rain?” you poked his side- he looked like a kicked puppy. “I’d love to,” you responded before the man burst into flames.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, then nodded, “My car’s allergic to water,” he joked.

A short little run to a huge door later, you were in a spacious lobby to a complex. Your heels clicked and clacked against the marble ground, clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. 

You held your arms close to your body, shivering at the blaring AC while he led you to the elevator. 

A man in black holding a pistol in his hand, wearing sunglasses in doors and an earpiece stood near the elevator, no doubt security personnel.

“Mr Yu,” the man ducked his head, and Yu matched his greeting. You remained invisible, a nice change of pace anyways. 

The elevator dinged, and a small old woman emerged, doused in branded clothing and expensive accessories. She stared at the drenched floors, then up to you both. Stepping out of the elevator, she held her umbrella close to her body, looking furious. 

“What if someone slips?!” she yelled, swatting Yu’s arm with the umbrella. He chuckled slightly and she turned to the guard as you both entered the elevator, “He brings one woman around all of a sudden he’s all rebellious,” she tsked, then turned back to you both as the elevator closed, giving you a once over. “No sleepovers,” she said just as the doors shut.

You blinked at the wall for a few moments, Yu scanning his keycard to take you up to the twentieth floor. You stood side by side, unmoving, until finally, you started to laugh, and so did he. 

“Who is that?” you said between giggles.

“My neighbour,” he replied, recovering his composure.

“She’s so cute,”

“She’s a lot of things alright,” he scoffed, and you pinched his arm.

The elevator dinged open, and you entered his apartment, still sopping wet. He set the cake down on the kitchen island, then gestured for you to follow him to his room. The entire walk you couldn’t help but gape at the sheer size of the rooms in his house, you weren’t poor by any means, but this was another level of rich. His room was down the hall, to the right, the door was ajar. He pushed it open, the epitome of neat. Perhaps he had orchestrated it so you’d come over. 

“Wow,” you stepped in after him, marvelling at how minimalist it was. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a hotel. Sleek design of black on red, with abstract paintings and a huge window wall. He slid his closet door open, pulling out sweat pants and a hoodie, then turning to you. 

“Here,” he smiled, and you took them gratefully.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. He stepped out to give you privacy to change, and you drew the curtains shut. You heard the door of another room shut, likely that he’s also switching to dry clothing.

You peeled the wet clothes off of your body, replacing them with the warm clean ones he offered, shuddering as the air touched your skin. Once dressed, you inspected yourself in his floor length mirror, making sure you looked semi presentable before cracking the door open slightly. You stepped out experimentally, poking your head into his living room. You were momentarily distracted by quite the gem on the wall, a family photo above his fireplace. You took hesitant steps, stopping just in front of it.

There he was, no older than twelve years old, in between two very serious looking individuals. He looked so cute, in his little oversized glasses covering his innocent face.

“What’re you doing?” you jolted at the sound of his voice, turning to see him drying his hair with a towel, looking at you inquisitively. 

You struggled to find the words, feeling like you were caught red handed, “Sorry, came to look for you and saw this,” you turned to it again as he stood next to you. “It’s a very sweet photo,” you whispered softly.

You both just stared at it for a while, and you could see the contemplative look on his face through the glass reflection of the picture frame. He turned to you, offering a clean towel for your hair, then pulling you away wordlessly towards the kitchen.

You sat on opposite sides of the counter, him opening the plastic box to allow you to eat. So, with your forks, you ate quietly for a while, the soft ambience of the outside world drowning out your inhibitions.

“Yu,” you said with utmost care. He hummed non commitantly. “You don’t have a roommate or anything right?” you trailed a finger down the marble countertop.

He shot you a confused look. “No, I live alone,” he said slowly.

“RIght… right..” you responded, glancing back at the rooms. He followed your gaze, still just chewing. “So no one would disturb us,” your voice dripped with what you hoped came across as seduction. Maybe this was a little forward, but so was being in his apartment, in his clothes, at this hour. 

“...What?”

“Oh… you know… no one would hear us…” you secretly hoped he’d just get the hint.

He did not, instead now looking adequately disturbed, “Why?” He leaned back a fraction of a centimeter, not so discreetly trying to make sure you’re unarmed.

The look that crossed your face must have been so concerned that it alarmed him.

“Is there… something you want to say?” he asked, through a very poor attempt at a poker face.

“No… nothing,” you took a bite of cake to balm the sting.

“Did you wanna… do something?”

That made you perk up, and you nodded. He nodded too, “Like… watch a movie?”

Oh you sweet summer child. “Movie sounds great,” you said through gritted teeth.

One movie, containing the wrong kind of action, later, he offered you a ride home, which you graciously accepted. He had dried off your dress from earlier, and you wore it again, thanking him profusely for the change on the elevator ride down while he apologised again for messing your dress up. The ride home this time was filled with chatter, and giggles, and reminiscing of this date and the last one, which you dubbed a business meeting. He parked in front of the building, and walked you to the entrance of your apartment complex.

“So this is my stop,” you smiled, and he let out a long, awkward, breath of air.

“I had a great time tonight,” he started, “And I’m sorry again about your dress, and last time,”

“Again, water under the bridge,” you stepped forward a little, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Plus, you kind of already made it up to me,” he chuckled. “Tonight was wonderful, thank you for the flowers.. And the food.. And the company,”

You stared at each other for a while, wedged in place, both faces painted with smiles.

“Good night,” he said through half lidded eyes.

You leaned in without thinking, kissing him on the cheek. “Good night, Yu,”

..

By this point, you’d gotten pretty comfortable around each other, 2 years is a long time.

You’d finally, finally, found a worthy thing to talk about, a scandal involving mistreatment of staff by a particular director. He was notorious for being a billionaire playboy, but behind closed doors it appears he’d been sued frequently for abuse of power and creating a hostile workplace. You knew him, of course, you’d interviewed him time and time again, allowed all his remarks about you to slide in order to stay professional. You spent a while working on smaller projects to give yourself adequate time to really flesh out the story, find sources and under the table witnesses. It cost your agency a hefty sum, but they knew the payout would be massive.

It was another one of those late night writing sessions, propped up on your kitchen counter, sipping on a juice box while writing out some notes. Your door opened, you craned your head, casting Philip a smile.

“Hey babe,” he grinned as he entered, giving your cat a little poke as he passed into your kitchen, only stopping to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” you responded, “Didn’t know you’d be coming over tonight,”

“Needed a change of pace,” he grumbled, undoing his tie and the top two buttons. “I’m going crazy,”

“Don’t do that,” you giggled, he joined you by sitting on a stool next to you.

“Whatcha working on?” he lit a cigarette, casting you a sheepish look through his eyelashes, “Sorry,”

“Just make sure to open the window,” you rolled your eyes, “An article,”

“No shot,” he rolled his eyes, offering you a hit. You accepted. “What kind of article? About what?”

“Do you remember ‘anchor’?”

“Anchor?” he kissed his lips, “The bald director guy?”

“Ding ding ding,” you exhaled the smoke, passing it to him again. “He’s been involved in a lot of major controversies recently, for some reason completely untouched by the media,”

He messed with the waistband of your pants absentmindedly, “Don’t you think there might be a reason for that?”

“Absolutely. Money,”

“Not just that. Tell me you’re not writing an article about a man who won’t hesitate before ending your career, and then you,” he rubbed his forehead.

You shrugged, “I’ve done worse. Besides, he’s a really crappy person,”

“If you die you better come back to haunt me,” he joked, getting up and killing his cigarette in the sink, then kissing your forehead. 

“Done deal,” you watched him scoop your cat up in one hand.

The cat meowed in protest, and he meowed back, flopping down on your couch. You could see him from here, holding the little feline up in air jail.

“Why do I have to end up with the one girl that has a death wish?” he asked ‘muffin’ dramatically, who meowed in agreement. “You’re right. She’s reckless. And when she inevitably bites the dust for messing with the wrong people I’m donating you to science,”

“PHILIP YU,”

…

The closer you got to the deadline, the more anxious you became, trying your best to perfect every detail down to the synonyms. Yu became more distant as the time grew, but you chalked it up to cumulative stress from his job and parents. You were just fixing up your final draft in your office, deciding on a title when he walked in holding a brown paper bag. He closed the door behind him, avoiding your prying eyes.

“Well this is a surprise,” you mused, inspecting the bag, which contained a singular cupcake in it, “not unwelcome though,” you took it out, humming at the chocolatey flavor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He forced a smile, sitting down opposite you, “Can we talk for a moment?”

“If it’s bad news maybe let's talk later? I’m about to finally send this in,” you smiled, he shook his head.

“Don’t… send it in, yet at least,”

You stared at him for a moment, he didn't speak. “Yu…”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you. The meetings I’ve been attending… have actually been with anchor.”

Your eyebrows shot up, he resumed. “I know you’re not entirely fond of him, but he’s presenting me with an opportunity I can’t decline,” his shoulders slumped. “You know how hard it’s been trying to get back in the scene.”

“He’s going to exploit you,” you dropped your voice an octave. “He’ll suck you dry from ideas and take all the credit Phil this is a bad idea,”

“I don’t have another choice!”

“Okay…” you sighed. “Okay.” you stared down at your computer, then the cupcake, then up at him. “Wait a minute, are you asking me not to expose him?”

He gave a singular nod. “I know this is really crappy of me,” you stood up, and he matched it, putting his arms up in surrender. “He told me he loved my concepts, but by association with you and your article people will be more inclined to believe your gossip because they’d think you got it from me,”

“My gossip?” you scoffed, rounding the table to stand face to face. “This gossip is what kept me afloat, is what allowed victims to come forth with their stories, it’s my job!”

“And this is mine!”

He stood up, matching your offensive stance, “You know how important this is for me- this is huge!”

“I put in weeks of effort into this!”

“Please,” his voice broke, arms grabbing your shoulder,  face inches from yours. “I need this,”

You pushed his arms off of you, scoffing loudly. “I need this! I’m tired of reporting small town news,”

“Just a little while longer and the-”

“No! You’re not thinking clearly!” you stomped your foot loudly, in the fashion of a tantrum. “You go into this deal it’s a lose-lose situation,”

“Who loses here?”

“You lose to his claws, and I lose work that I lost sleep over,”

“You’ll find something else, he’s not a bad guy-”

You swiped your hands down your face, sniffing, “Phillip have you listened to a single thing I’ve ever said about him or did you just tune me out?”

“I listened,” he crossed his arms.

“DId you hear how he’s a master manipulator? Sued countless times over for misconduct? Known for producing a hostile work environment? Preying on trusting people? Did you hear me say all those things, and cite my sources?”

He sighed, staying quiet and staring at the ground. His eyes glistened.

You licked your lips, “Listen-”

“No you listen,” he said, meeting your gaze firmly. “If you post this article….” he stared at the ceiling, keeping his tears at bay, “We’re done,”

It was so quiet in there, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. “Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“I- I mean it.”

“You’re dumping me because of… a producer?”

“Director, and not because of him, it’s the prin-”

“Get out,”

A/N: UGH okay this took literal ages because A- uni's been a major pain and B- lost interest in the story. Oops. anyways, enjoy this, the ride's almost over!!Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[zaynesdesimc]

O my gosh do you think you can do a Miguel x teen reader. Where the reader has been in a depressed mood lately and no one can figure out what's wrong till they reveal that their headphones broke on their last mission and it was the last thing their remaining family member gave to them before they died and they blaime themselves for not being more careful with them.

Headphones-Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader.

As someone who’s emotionally attached to her heradpjones yes I can and will write this. Thank you all so much for the love and support from my last post! I’ll be taking a short break after this and I hope you all like it! Please comment and reblog if you do :D love you<3333

Warnings: Implied Hobie brown x reader; mostly fluff dw, crying.

ART BY THE AMAZING @thattripleabattery

“Is it just me, or is something off about her?” Miles nods towards you who is sitting all alone away from and sipping juice desolately as they all listen to Miguel’s newest monthly goal meeting.

“Something looks off about her, like something’s missing.” Gwen narrows her eyes at your figure.

You just keep nodding at intervals and try to pay attention but all you can think about are the headphones your brother had given you.

You considered them an extension of you, going so far as to even sometimes wear them during light missions while you waited for the threat to show up.

Your last mission had been gruelling, so bad to the point that both Jess and your dad had suggested you take a break from fighting to recuperate.

You were so devastated on the inside, all you did was just nod.

You knew that Miguel knew you were off. It was obvious that you joked less and acted tired. Not to mention the little amount of sleep you got.

It was stupid really, all this drama over a pair of headphones. Yet, they were the last connection you had to your brothers and it felt like you had truly lost your family when they broke into two.

Your mind was literally empty as you nodded at whatever Miguel was saying. You just dipped your juice and kept zoning in and out. It felt wrong that they weren’t there around your neck where they usually were.

Miguel started to notice your constant fidgeting and the way your hands kept rubbing your neck. He had also noticed your dull nature and the way your sweet smile stopped making its way onto your face.

Even to his lamest dad jokes, you’d respond with a huff and small twist of your lips.

As he wrapped up the plan, his eyes flit to yours and he saw you still nodding, your eyes glassy.

He takes a deep breath, “Dismissed, all of you leave. Now.”

The shuffle of chairs fills the room as everyone files out one by one.

He says your name, “Stay back.” And turns around to look at the hologram.

Miles and Gwen look at each other and then at you, who breathes in and nods without a word.

Once everyone has left, he turns back around to find you looking at him with your hands behind your back.

“What happened?” He asks and you sign.

“Nothing.”

“It’s rude to lie.”

“Manners maketh man and all that jazz.” You reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Seriously.” He raises his eyebrow and his hand rests on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, god I’m fine! I was just an irresponsible shit and I broke my headphones.”

His eyebrows furrow, “The ones your brother gave you?”

You clench your jaw and nod, eyes smarting as you struggle not to cry at the thought.

He shrugs, “They’re just headphones, kid. You can always get another.”

You just scoffed, “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, you get it right?”he tips his down to make a point.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” You smile wryly and turn away so that he can miss the tear forming in your eye, “Cool, I’ll uh catch you later boss man.”

He stares after your retreating figure with remorse, did he say something wrong?

“You dumb idiot.” Lyla pops up.

“What?” He snarls, whirling to look at her.

“She was really attached to those headphones, Miguel.”

“She can always get new ones, Lyla. I’m getting them for her anyway.”

“Miguel it’s as if her brother died all over again.” Lyla replies firmly, “She’s hurting, ans you made her feel worse.”

Miguel hangs his head, “Shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but after years of shutting himself out, he didn’t understand people’s feelings like he used to, and he wanted with every fibre of his being to cheer you up, and he managed to screw it up.

“You need to go apologise and fix this.” Lyla points towards the doorway.

——————-

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” Hobie’s soothing voice is calming as his hand travels up and down your back to soothe you.

You breathe deeply before letting out another broken sob that only makes you more embarrassed, and in front of Hobie of all people. The guy just oozed absolute “don’t care” energy while still simultaneously being one of the most caring people you’d ever met.

Your apologies are hushed and he takes your face between his hands and wipes your tears from your cheeks, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

You hug him again, “Thank you.”

“I know what it’s like to lose something like that, and I’m sorry. But I know you will get over it and I salute you for being so brave.” He winks, “I’ve gotta run, catch you later.”

He quickly kisses your forehead and dashes off, leaving you stunned. After a few moments, a smile makes its way onto your puffy face.

“I’m going to kill that kid.” Miguel seethes as he watches from the camera.

———-

You were exhausted after a long day of training and you couldn’t wait to just go and fall asleep in your quarters.

The door swung open easily and your eyes flitted to the shabbily wrapped present on your bed. The bed that was unmade in the morning but was miraculously made and cleaned now.

Your eyes narrow as you tear away the wrapping to find a near identical pair of headphones to the ones that broke and your eyes widen in shock as you hold them up in front of you.

There’s a post-it stuck to the wrapping paper and you read the note that is unmistakably written by Miguel. You can recognise his chicken scratch handwriting.

“Im sorry for hurting your feelings this morning. And I hope this makes up for it. Don’t blame yourself, it was an accident and accidents happen. Im proud that you learnt your mistake and that you act so wise for your age, despite the fact that you decide to go to a weird British punk spider for advice, I am still proud of you. No es tu culpa, none of this is your fault.

Love,

Dad.”

—————-

“She seems to be in a much better mood today.” Gwen nudges Miles.

“She’s smiling and trying to get him to laugh.” Miles grins at your antics.

“Wait her headphones! They were missing, they’re back around her neck, that’s probably why she was in a shitty mood!” Pavitr reasons as Gwen nods in agreement.

“Are the three of you paying attention?” Miguel looks pointedly at the three kids and his glare then falls in Hobie who is seated next to you.

“Everyone dismissed!”

As everyone files out he says yet again, “Hobart, stay back.”