#my intelligence reports told me we had information. well. what ?????

[divorcedwife]

well it's nice to learn more about lucanis i guess. ???????

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[sillyrabbit81]

Dangle the Carrot

Prompt: Smug and Sadistic, Virginity from @munstysmind (x) Thank you!

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT/ NON CONSENT, RELUCTANT READER, Coercion, p in v sex, fingering, discussion of body fluids, possessive August.

Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne , and @henryobsessed your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.

I had every intention of following the prompt, but as I wrote this is what came out. Walker is definitely smug, but probably not as sadistic as you would think. I hope you enjoy it.

Edited by me, there will be errors

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

You’re sitting in the safe house sipping on your morning coffee, dressed in a simple knee length summer dress that is fashionable in the local area, going over new intelligence on your latest asset.

You’re going to have to meet him again, he is holding back information, you’re sure of it. The chatter had been building to a crescendo, someone is planning something and you’re sure the asset knows more than he’s letting on.

The assets' pale balding head peers back at you from the photograph that had been taken of him way back before you started to build a relationship with him. He creeps you out, well over 20 years older than you, he looks at you like he’s undressing you every time you meet. You feel like he strings you along with little tidbits just to keep you coming back and you’re starting to think he’s a dead end.

“Staring at his picture won’t make him talk.”

You jump, startled by Special Agent Walker's appearance. Dressed as he always is in a plain muted suit, he has a mug of coffee (you assume) in his hand and he sits next to you, plucking the file from your hands and opening it on the dining table in front of you.

“Any suggestions?” you ask.

“Possibly,” Walker says, the corner of his whiskered mouth lifting with a knowing smirk.

You purse your lips. Walker always looks like he knows something you don’t, you’re about to ask him what it is when he continues.

“I’ve been told to hurry you along. Langley believes he has information about a high value target and our window of opportunity is closing swiftly.”

Huffing with disgust you say, “I’ve done everything I can besides take my clothes off to get him to give up more information than we already know. I think he knows nothing. I think he’s full of shit.”

Walker shakes his head, “Langley disagrees. They think he might be involved in some way and is trying to avoid implicating himself.”

“I’ve told him we will look the other way on the shit he’s into if he can lead us to the target, or at least give us something we don’t already know.” You shrug and lean back into your chair, waving your hand over the file. “Like I said, I’ve given him every assurance, dangled every carrot, and he gives me nothing. I’m at a loss.”

Walker hums, turning a page, “Maybe it's time to stop dangling the carrot and let him have it.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Walker doesn’t answer immediately. He finishes reading, then closes the file smoothly. He turns in his chair so he’s facing you and his knee brushes against your thigh, while he takes a moment to assess you.

“You said you’ve tried everything except taking your clothes off,” he says, the smirk reappearing on his lips.

“That’s not happening,” you say dismissively, but your cheeks burn at his suggestion.

Walker nods, a faux frown plays on his lips. “Did you read the brief?”

“Only a million times.”

Walker makes a gesture towards the folder on the table. “The initial report, second page, about a third of the way down.”

Sighing, you drag the file back in front of you and flip it open. Walker’s knee presses against your thigh as he puts his arm around the back of your chair and leans in to read over your shoulder.

“There,” he says.

You start to read, impatiently, “The subject is known for many clandestine relationships outside of his marriage. He tends to favour women who…” you trail off as you realise the description of his type of woman is basically a description of you. You keep reading in silence. 

…At least one of his former lovers was a British Agent and seeing as the subject was prone to “pillow talk”, it had proved an effective way to gather intelligence…

“Miss that part in your millions of readings did you?” Walker says in your ear. “Why do you think you were put on this case, hmm?”

The arm that rests on the back of the chair now rests on your shoulder and he starts to stroke your neck. His other hand rests on your knee, his fingers edge beneath the hem of your dress, inching their way up your thigh.

You can barely breathe, the realisation dawning on you that he’s right. You thought you were being rewarded for good work with lower level assets. Embarrassment creeps in, the old imposter syndrome that you had convinced yourself wasn’t an issue begins to rear its ugly head.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

Walker moves closer, his breath is warm on your neck, his fingers have worked themselves halfway up the inside of your thigh and they pause to caress your sensitive delicate skin.

“You can,” he whispers back, “I know what’s stopping you. Why do you think I was put on this case?”

Your chin trembles and you try to swallow down the lump rising in your throat. “This was the plan the whole time?”

“A contingency that Langley has decided to implement to hurry things along.”

Shaking your head, you flick his hand away from your thigh. “I can turn him without having sex with him. Give me a few more days.”

Walker grabs your jaw, his thumb and fingers dig painfully into your cheeks and he makes you look at him. His eyes are blazing with lustful impatience. He’s been waiting for this you realise, he’s been waiting for you to fail, waiting for the go ahead to take you.

“You don’t have a few days, princess. You have tonight,” Walker says in a gravelly and thick tone that doesn’t hold so much as an inch of empathy. “You have a choice. You can open your legs for me like a good girl and I’ll make your first time as pleasant as possible and believe me, I can make it very pleasurable. Or, you can let an ugly, skinny, limp dicked asshole, that doesn’t even know your real name, uselessly pound your sweet, tight, virgin pussy until his cum dribbles into your ruined little hole.”

“And if I refuse both options?” Your voice quivers as you ask the question because deep down you already know the answer.

“You’ll be out. A burn notice will be issued within the next hour.”

Icy fear blooms in your chest and your blood runs cold through your veins. Burn notice. Not only will you be out of the agency, but no self respecting private security firm would take you either. The whole industry would be closed to you. Everything you worked for would be taken from you within the hour.

Closing your eyes, you coldly try to rationalise the situation, weighing up the pros and cons. 

What is virginity anyway? Your hymen was well and truly worn away by now. You’ve had a wide selection of toys inside you. A couple of guys had fingered you in college and it wasn’t as though you were saving yourself for marriage or anything. Your lack of sexual experience is due to not having the inclination to find a partner who you wanted to sleep with rather than any real moral objection. 

There would be worse men to sleep with than Walker. He is attractive, even if he’s normally a little standoffish. He boasts about making it feel pleasurable doesn’t seem to be without merit; you can’t deny that his fingers which are circling their way up your inner thigh again do feel nice.

You open your eyes slowly and determinedly set your jaw. You lick your lips and take a breath to give your tepid consent, but nothing comes out. 

Walker seems to understand though, his hand holding your jaw softens and slides down to your neck. He uses his grip to draw you close enough to brush his lips over yours.

Whiskers prickle against your chin and warm, silky lips stroke yours, capturing first your lower lip then your top in a gentle nip.

“Relax,” he whispers against your mouth. His breath heats your lips and smells of mint and coffee. 

As he resumes his kiss, a light tickling sensation begins on your inner thigh, picking up where it had left off. Soft circling fingers draw an invisible spiral on your sensitive skin as it inches its way towards the apex of your thighs. It feels nice, gentle and tender, and against your will, your skin tingles with warm anticipation.

Hot velvety strokes of his tongue tease your lips, probing softly where they meet, silently urging you to open. He’s patient, easing back before trying again, all the while his thumb strokes your throat and fingers caress higher and higher up your thigh.

Maybe it is primal instinct, or perhaps you simply surrender, but you part your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth with a hum of approval. He strokes, massages, and sucks, encouraging you to reciprocate, but you can’t. While his touch is seductive, your heart beats faster and your body warms as your body begins to throb, you feel detached. It’s like he’s doing things to you and your body reacts but your mind is somewhere else recording your involuntary, mechanical reactions.

The ghosting circular caresses get larger, reaching high enough for a knuckle to brush over your panties. Dispassionate curiosity keeps you unmoving as his hand sweeps over your thigh again, this time a finger traces the edge of your panties, following its curve before resuming its path. 

He brushes over your panties again, floating over your slit and grazing your clit. A deep thrum begins between your legs and vibrates hotly through your nerves, and settles in your breasts making your nipples ache as they grow tight and harden. 

Your detachment shatters. You break his kiss with a cry and force your knees together, trapping his hand between your thighs and halting his advance.

“You were doing so well, princess,” Walker says, with a thicker and less gentle voice than before. 

You scowl at him as he tries to pry your knees apart with his free hand. It’s not anger that makes you protest; it's the fear that grips your heart with its icy fingers as you see the burning lust in his eyes. He isn’t just doing this for the mission, he’s doing this because he wants to and somehow that is so much worse.

You try to stand and run, but he’s too quick for you. He captures your wrists in one hand and roughly uses his body to get behind you. He thrusts his groin against your ass, and bends you over the table, trapping you like a pinned butterfly by your hands and his chest pressing against your back.

“Be a good girl and don’t fight it, because I’ll take you the hard way if I have to,” he growls in your ear in a tone that suggests he might enjoy that even more.

“Please,” you rasp weakly. “Please don’t…”

A rough hand bunches your dress up to your hips then rubs over the soft flesh of your thighs. You try to close your legs but he inches his feet between yours and forces them apart. He licks the shell of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth and sucks. Heat flows through your veins again, your nerves electrify while you twist and fight against his iron-like grip and heavy weight.

“Are you getting wet for me, princess?” he asks, mockingly rubbing himself against your ass.

“No!” you protest louder and with more conviction, hoping the forcefulness of your response covers for your lie because despite your fear, and you are afraid, your body is undoubtedly aroused and growing more so with every passing second.

“No?” Walker asks. “Are you sure?”

Embarrassment makes you drop your head to the table with a feeble whimper. Why is it that his smug mocking makes you even more aroused? You’re hot and slick beneath your panties and everytime Walker grinds himself against your ass, the fabric of the gusset clings to your sticky lips.

“Are you sure? I think I should check,” he says as his fingers hook the edge of your panties and peels them away slowly. 

Walker’s fingers easily slide over your pussy. You bite the inside of your cheek to try and stop the moan that hurtles up your throat. You try to fight against him, but he’s got you trapped as his fingers stroke and probe between your legs.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters throatily, as though he’s talking to himself. Sounding almost amazed, he adds, “You like this.”

Humiliated, you let out a soft cry. You do like it. You like the way he’s touching you even better now than when he first started. His weight pinning you to the table is strangely comforting, and knowing you can’t fight him off is embarrassingly arousing.

He spreads you open and a finger teases your entrance. You hold your breath, your whole body clenches anticipating pain. But he’s gentle as he slips a finger easily inside you and lets out a hard amused breath into your ear and you can imagine the smug grin on his face.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he slides his finger back and forth, each time at a new angle as if he is searching for something. He moans softly as he kisses your neck, sucking and biting hard, such a contrast to how gently his finger explores.

He adds a second finger, you cry out again as he stretches you and you clamp down hard as if you could push him out. He groans in response, his voice erotically guttural, powerful and raw as he growls out, “Your pussy is so fucking tight. So fucking hot.”

His fingers curl and you gasp. It already felt so good, but now there is a pleasant pressure building deep in your gut. Your core throbs and you tighten around him even more and your eyes widen in horror as you realise what is happening.

“No, no, no,” you protest as your thighs begin to shake. 

Tears well in your eyes as your body grows incredibly taut and torrid heat gathers between your legs. You pull on the hand holding your wrists and manage to get one free. You cover your mouth, trying to suppress your cries as your body surrenders to searing heaves of euphoric release that leave your skin tingling and your muscles quivering.

You’re still high, heady and weak from your orgasm as Walker pulls your panties down your thighs. Somewhere in your mind you think you should fight him because you know what's coming next, but your body feels so good that you also crave more. So much so that when Walker takes your hips and turns you before snaking an arm around your waist, you docilely let him lift you onto the table and stand between your bare legs.

Heavy lidded you watch him quickly undo his belt, his movements are a frantic indication of his desire. When he lifts his eyes as his pants drop to the floor your breath catches in your throat. Untamed and bestial lust twists his features, curling his lip and narrowing his cobalt stare.

“Please,” you murmur, the words spilling from your lips without any understanding of what you’re begging for.

Walker bares his teeth with a savage grin and growl, and reaches between his legs. He’s soft and blunt as he drags himself over you, coating the head of his cock in your slick arousal. Your mouth opens and you take a stuttering breath as he positions himself at your core. His arm draws your body close to him as he slowly pushes into you, his eyes dark and wild.

Pressure like you’ve never known makes your core spasm and strain and though you put a hand to his chest to try to slow him down, he doesn’t stop his unyielding intrusion. You think you should want to scream, cry, or at least protest, but your legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper until your bodies meet.

Twin moans float as they hang in the air as you both still. His breath saws in his throat as your every exhale comes out with a soft whimper.  No toy ever stretched you like this and you look down to see your slit bloom and spread around his thick cock. 

“Oh God,” you cry as your head lolls and falls back.

Fingers slip between your lips and pull on your teeth until your eyes meet Walkers. He watches slack-jawed and panting as your mouth closes over his intrusive fingers and the humiliating taste of your orgasm stings your tongue. 

With a growl he removes his fingers and covers your mouth with his, forcing his tongue into your mouth and sucking on yours as if to get a taste for himself. He grazes his whiskers over you, making your skin prickle. Your hand moves to his wrist and slides down his forearm and the powerful muscles dancing beneath his hairy skin feel so good you tighten your grip to feel then contract and flex.

He moves.

With fluid and deliberate rolls of his hips, he grinds against you. His mouth still covers yours and you desperately try to breathe through your nose and not choke on the scream that is poised at the back of your throat. His body moves with erotic grace, confusing your mind with every circling thrust. It shouldn’t feel so good, you don’t want this.

Oh but you do. You so do.

The familiar heat gathers between your legs and your hips, moving with him, chasing him, urging him to move faster, to give you what you need to fall into bliss again. You’re not sure when you went from passive recipient to enthusiastically compliant, but you’re definitely a desperately willing participant now.

Walker leaves your lips and kisses down your throat, groaning as he sucks bruisingly hard on your skin. He works his way to your ear, his cheeks burn your skin as your skin prickles and breaks into sweat.

“Your pussy is too good to waste on another man,” Walker groans. “You’re mine now.”

It takes you a moment to register his words, but when they sink in, irrationally your heart soars.

“All fucking mine,” he growls.

The heat of his breath as he rasps out the words in his harsh and rugged baritone send you over the edge. You clasp and grab at him, trying to hold on as your body shakes and shudders and you bask in that moment where everything all falls away and there's nothing except the surging tides of hot euphoria.

“Fuck,” he snarls, when you open your eyes.

He grabs your ass with one hand and hooks his other arm under your knee, spreading you wide open. He’s no longer grinding, now he’s pumping hard watching himself move in and out of your swollen and sodden core.

He cups the back of your head, drawing your mouth close enough to kiss as he chases his end. His rhythmic frantic thrusts suddenly stop as he lifts his head with a long groan and holds himself deep within you. You inhale a rough breath as he imperceptibly thickens and throbs, shocked that you can actually feel each pulse of his release as it rushes up his cock.

With a final sigh, he drops his head, resting against your lips. You kiss him there softly and your lips sting with the taste of his humid skin as sweat runs down his forehead and into your mouth. It should disgust you, but instead of pulling away you kiss him again before lowering your head and nuzzling into his neck. 

You both stay there for a minute while you catch your breath and try to process what happened. You don’t know what to think, it all happened so fast, and feels so confusing. Part of you knows you should be furious, but somehow you can’t seem to muster the anger at the violation when it felt so good.

His softening cock starts to slip from your core. When it falls you feel unbelievably wet between your legs. He came inside you, you hadn’t even thought about it. A small shiver tickles at your spine. Though your core aches, the thought of his cum leaking from you was so erotic that you almost want to reach between you legs and feel it as it slowly flows from deep inside you.

Walker raises his head, his expression as calm as you’ve ever seen and his normally turbulent eyes seem serene. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s trying to smile, not smirk or sneer, but genuinely smile.

“I mean it,” he says, pushing errant hairs tenderly off your face. “You’re not fucking him. I’ll find another way to get what we need.”

From the look of grim determination that settles in his jaw, you have no doubts about his seriousness.

“Do I get a say at all?” you ask, your voice still trembling.

“No.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Mission Report: pending…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!WidowReader

Description: Part 2 of You’re My Mission

Upon returning to DC, Red finds out the truth about her capture. She makes sure they never underestimate her again.

Warnings: Violence, Corruption, Nomad!Steve, Angst, Reader being a Bad Bitch (I said it)

Word Count: 2.9k

You're My Mission | Main Masterlist

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

The slam of the metal door wakes you out of your brief slumber. Opening your eyes, the brightness of the room has you wanting to put your head back down. Attempting to stretch the clang of the metal cuffs attached to your right arm causes you to groan in pain. Before you can complain to the man in the room a picture is thrown on the reinforced desk. 

“Good morning Red. Of course, you wouldn’t know that because you haven’t seen the sun in what a week?” A smug female voice belonging to a brunette announces. 

“At least I’m not chained to Fury’s hip like a bitch. When’s the last time he let you out without adult supervision?” A harsh smack flies across your face causing a satisfied grin to grow across your lips.

“Enough.” The pirate says pushing the image forward. “You stole a collection of highly classified files the last time you paid us a visit, now if you want more than the dog shit they’ve been feeding you. Tell me what the KGB needed them for.” He sat across from you spreading out the pictures from your OP along with the folders missing their precious files.

You look up at him, “Am I supposed to look at the patch or the twitching eye?” 

“Who did you sell the information to, Agent Reyes?”

You shrug at the mention of your past cover. “Reyes didn’t sell them to anyone, Red on the other hand. Well, she had a deal with the devil back then. Who else would want to know about SHIELD’s secret prison in the middle of the Pacific, especially the basement level filled with lots of fun toys.” 

Hill slaps down a picture of Barnes and Romanoff. “You should start talking or your precious soldier will pay the price.”

You scoff and spit on their files. “If you think I won’t let both of them die then you’re very mistaken. If you want information out of me, don’t give me baby offers. Between us, we both know the price you’d pay to keep your stupid organization from burning to the ground again.”

Fury leans back in his seat before standing and pulling his lap dog out of the room. “Send in the Captain.” 

Finally some fun.

Outside the room, Steve stands watching you through the one-way mirror. “That didn’t go well.”

The director scoffs, “She’s a black widow, they never do.” Then he struts off. 

“She knows what she’s doing, Nat told us they’re trained to always be the smartest in the room. She’s been working us for weeks, every time we go in we come out with less information. Get this our file on her- blank, even Nat’s had some of her past missions. Red’s a ghost and we’re running out of time.” Maria huffs.

Steve turns to her and nods. “How long?”

“72 hours, she probably knows how this entire compound works. She’s going to retaliate at any moment, this is fun to her. Good luck.” When the captain goes back to the window, she locks eyes with him and smiles, then as if she can see through the glass she blows him a kiss.

Steve shakes his head and enters the room. “Hi beefcake, haven’t seen you in a while. 4 days maybe.” She tilts her head, causing an unsettling feeling to creep up his spine.

“Something like that, let’s talk about something else today.” He joins her at the desk and places her file down on it.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” She gestures for him to sit.

He coughs to disrupt the chuckle in his throat, then opens the file. “Our files on you are empty. The only people who know more than intelligence are Natasha and Bucky. And everyone thinks you’re going to escape in less than 72 hours.”

You smirk. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to give you your deal.” You can’t help but snort out a laugh.

“You are going to make a deal with me? What could you possibly have that I want? Heroes don't make much money in any job, what’s your offer, Steven?”

“I disabled all coms and video from the room, it’s just us Red.” The soldier leans over the table and takes hold of the chain holding your arm. Your eyes don't leave his as he finds the loose bolt and faulty cuff. He smirks letting go and sitting back in his seat. “72 hours huh.” You shrug.

“24 hours, get as far as you possibly can and never come back.” He whispers, raising your brows.

“No.” His nostrils flare at your response. “You want me gone for a reason, but not a good enough one. I want more.”

He sucked in his teeth. “I can get you a million and a safe house if you leave tonight.”

You smirk and take the pen from his jacket pocket. “You want me gone, this is what it takes. If you can’t fulfill, the world’s going to find out just how dirty their Captain is. I wonder what James’ll think.” You write down your final offer and shove it towards him. He stops it before it flies off the table and opens the folder.

He scoffs. “You’re joking.” You just sit back in the chair and tilt your head.

“Your move Cap.”

“It’ll take me a while to get all 10, Stark’s not just going to bat an eye at that much going missing. No one knows, not even Nat. No communication of any kind to him. I’ll come by tonight with everything, just sit tight.” He breathes standing from the desk.

You grin up at him. “If you need some help with the money, I’m sure James could help you. See you tonight Nomad.” You wink. “Oh and tell Natalia I wanna have a chat.”

 Leaving the room, Steve turns and Natasha stands there pissed with her arms crossed.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She warns.

Steve frowns, “Clearly I don’t. She won’t say anything, she just sits there and laughs every time I go in. No one’s gotten anything out of her, maybe you should go in.” He requests feining his disgruntled persona.

The widow shrugs, “Then you should go, this won’t be pretty.” She rolls up her sleeves and goes into the room. Steve nods but decides to watch from the outside.

When she walks in, you don’t look at her, instead deciding to twist off the last bolt of your chains silently. 

“Look at this, the Red Widow, I can’t say I’m shocked that we’re here again. I mean you always seem to be below me, first in the ranks and now you’re my prisoner.” She darkly chuckles before shutting the lights off.

 “This’ll be fun.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Bucky is on his way back from a mission when it happens. 

He spent 3 days tracking down your old handler for information only to find out he put a hit on you years ago. He started making calls the minute he got to the safe house, every single one of your potential employers had cut their ties to you. It wasn’t recent either, when you were released from the Red Room you’d gone after anyone could find. They sent agents after you and got them back in bags. Everything SHIELD had been feeding him was a lie, it didn’t take much for him to find out the truth meaning they knew all along. They wanted you alone and he was on the other side of the world. 

Barnes quickly abandoned his mission after that, making haste to get back to the compound before it was too late. Too bad he could hear the blaring alarms from the jet. By the time he got to the containment center, it was just an empty room with red flashing lights. It wasn’t lost on him that no one else was in the vicinity, but before he could tear some agents a new one, a glare reflected on the mirror from inside the room.

Now he could tell the room wasn’t only red because of the lights. Fresh blood stains on the white walls and marble floor led to the flipped-over desk with the object that created the glares. He crouched down to the desk, a knife embedded in the metal and writing indented in its handle. 

“What’s it say?” 

Barnes pulls the knife out and faces his friend. “Where were you?”

The captain lets out a yawn that lacks lethargy and stretches his arms out. “I’ve been in bed for a few hours, last mission really tested my limits. You know how it is.”

James nods, unconvincingly. “You check the security feed? Fury said something about bringing you in before it cut out. What happened Steve?” 

The man shrugs his shoulders. “Buck, I haven’t been down here since that first interrogation. No one called me, I had no idea what was going on until the alarms started going off.” Bucky glazes over the writing on the knife once more before passing it over.

Steve furrowed his brows. “This isn’t Russian, she didn’t write this.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Survive. I gave it to her on our first mission. Romania 2005, it was a long-distance kill mission. There were no nerves in sight, just pure determination on her. I realized on that mountain she was different, she wasn’t doing it just because it was her job. It was her chance to prove to Dreykov that she was better in every way compared to Romanoff. I carved the word and tried to tell her that life wasn’t about that, but her mind was set on becoming his first hand.”

“She still took the knife, that’s gotta mean something. Look, there’s something else on the other side.” Steve flips it over. “Romanian I’m assuming.”

“Pentru iubitul meu cu inima rece.”

'for my cold-hearted lover'

“It’s not nice, is it?”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

*bold was said in Russian*

“You did well.” The soldier glanced at the shivering girl before punching in the code to the safe house.

“I knew what I was doing. I didn’t need a babysitter.” As soon as the door was open, she shoved him aside and strode in. He shook his head falling in suit then turning on the lights and generators.

“I know, you said it clearly on the mountain. I was just backup in case your location was leaked, not supervision.” He began to strip his heavy gear off and noticed the girl on the other side of the room was still shivering. He picked up his jacket and walked over to her.

“Widow’s don’t feel pain, I don’t need your pity.” She shrugged him off and sat on the couch.

He exhaled enough to notice his breath in the air. “The heat won’t kick in for a while and I don’t pity you y/n.” He placed the heavy jacket around her shoulders.

“Iubit cu inima rece.” She huffs under her breath.

The soldier snorts and sits next to her. “You picked that up quickly, a bit harsh though.”

“It’s the truth, that’s who you are. Aren’t you soldat?” She turns to him and their eyes lock. His crystal blues spot nothing hostile in her remarks.

“My guess is as good as yours, dragă.” A soft grin peaks on her lips. 

“I know who you are.” His gaze drops to her lips, and when it lifts hers are on his lips as well.

“Who am I?” Their faces are so close she feels the words as they leave his pout.

“You’re my cold-hearted lover.” He smiles and claims her with his lips.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“So?” The Captain drags his friend out of his dreamscape.

“I need to find her. Where’s Romanoff?” The soldier tucks the weapon away and marches out of the cell towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

“Bucky wait!” Rogers takes off after him and makes the elevator before it closes. “There’s something you need to know.”

Bucky scoffs because he already knows. He knows his best friend better than anyone in the world- all the worlds. At the end of their conversation in the cell, his resting heart rate was 35 bpm while at the beginning it was around 90 bpm. Athletes are known to have lower resting rates because of their agility, same goes for super soldiers. The average person has a resting heart rate of around 60 to 100, so for Steve’s to be that high when he was supposedly ‘fresh out of bed’ means he knows more than he’s letting off.

“Nat was the last one in the cell.” Bucky gestures for him to go on. “A couple of hours ago, she went in to talk, but she underestimated her. Y/n was armed and unchained. Nat barely made it out alive.” The doors open to the medical bay, they walk over to the first room and there sits a bloodied and battered Black Widow. At least he was honest about that.

“This where you were when she escaped? Cleaning your girlfriend’s wounds?”

“Buck, no one knew she’d be able to get out so easily. She could’ve left weeks ago if she wanted, but she stayed just to enact her revenge on Nat. She planned this, every part. She even hit Stark.” Barnes raised a brow.

“10 million dollars in shares and revenue was stolen from Stark Industries hours before her escape. He’s been trying to trace the hack, but nothing has come up. It just disappeared.”

So the plan was to speak to her quietly, move the money using Hydra tactics then conveniently make the containment center empty after Natasha’s attack. Not how he’d go about aiding her escape, points for creativity though.

“That true?” He asks as the wounded widow sees them.

She rolls her eyes but nods. “I went in to give her a taste of being home, but she was on me before I could do anything. I hate to say it, but her techniques were brutal. The last time I was injured this bad it was you.” She locks eyes with Bucky for a moment before he looks away. 

“She used everything you ever taught her. Her chains wrapped around my neck, knife to the side, she used anything she could get her hands on. The best thing was everything was nonlethal.” She ends with a light laugh that turns into a cough.

“Okay that’s enough, you need to get some rest.” Steve helps her to her feet and walks her to the threshold Bucky stood at. “Wait.”

She puts a hand on his metal arm, it’s the one part of her body still pale. “Before I blacked out she said, ‘Я выжил.’ I guessed that was meant for you.” Then the couple walked off.

I survived.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Driving up to the once very family-friendly home, made the rumbling from the bike cease to sound. Old memories of you and him playing house, being happy, pretending that love was real flooded your mind until you parked his bike. None of it was real, there’s a reason it’s called puppy love. He thought you could stay with him in his brickstone forever. Now he's lost you again. 

You enter the vacant home and quickly find the closet you hid your stash box in. Opening the box you’re relieved the soldier hadn’t found it himself. Passports, IDs, a money clip, burner phones, keys, and a matchbox. You dump everything into a carry-on and then find a change of clothing. It’s not that you don’t want the smell of the Black Widow’s blood on you, because it ignites every cell in your body. But the people at the airstrip would think otherwise, no matter how much you paid them. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you study the look, but it’s missing something. You open one of the drawers of the dresser and find what you’re looking for. 

Jackie Odom, the sexiest 60 in water wave wig. She was missed heavily.

You check the time before moving to the bathroom. 

01:24 AM 

He’ll be here any minute. You quickly release your neglected curls from their elastic prison, dunk them in water, and attempt the fastest braid down in your life. 

By the time you leave you've accomplished two things: saying goodbye to the old and hello to the new.

01:30 AM

From a hill deep in the woods, you can see the soldier and his tag team of heroes with flashing lights and loud sirens. The men in uniform go in as the men out of uniform stand in front of the house engulfed in flames. His bike front and center had already taken the most damage. A full tank of gas will do that for you. Your soldier looks to the woods almost like he can spot you from behind dark clouds and oak trees. You smirk and turn to walk away. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whine as you feel the car stop.

“Nope, let me help you out first.” James’ voice hadn’t flinched from its giddy enthusiasm the entire 27-minute car ride. After a year on this assignment, you might miss that golden tone. Might.

“Perfect distance between the compound and the city, equipped with a state of the alarm system, motion sensors next to every potential exit, and a bunker that would make most agencies jealous.” He was like a kid in a candy store, giving you all the ammunition needed to take care of him.

“What do you think?” You smiled and let him continue with the house tour. 

You stayed for 6 days. You gave him 6 days of joy, love, and lust. When he went to bed that seventh night, you raided the bunker, wrote him a note and left.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Until next time, James.” Then you sped off into the distance.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

likes, comment and reblogs are welcomed and treasured ♡

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

im not gonna lie, a little sad n disappointed that u use genAI for images…

Not gonna lie, I am very sad and disappointed that this is a conversation that is need to be had, on the platform of a TMNT reader insert writer. A conversation base of an image, created for the soul purpose of creating a idea for an outfit in a smut, generated in a part of the world, where AI regulations are becoming more and more strict (which I fully support, may I add), with the focus on ethical usage of Data and AI, among many other laws that are put in place to protect people's jobs and their personal data.

I live in the EU - one of the places with the most strict laws when it comes to personal data, and one of the first places to actually put an AI law into place. The AI act of 2024.

To those of you that do not know about the EU AI act, you can read about it here on the EU Parliament's webside: https://www.europarl.europa.eu/topics/en/article/20230601STO93804/eu-ai-act-first-regulation-on-artificial-intelligence

In other words, the EU wants AI to help create jobs and job opportunities, not steal them. Part of that is classifiactions. The AI I used to help give the reader an idea of what Bluestar's outfit would be (which I also disclosed as an AI image, as the law requrise in this part of the world), is classified as a low/lower-risk generative AI, that has to follow transparency requirements and the EU copyright law.

I do not know how other countries tackles AI, nor what laws they are planning on putting in place. I follow along in the EU and Danish conversations and laws about AI, as they actually are a big part of my studies as a future pedagog.

Part of my job is to look at AI as an aiding tool - not an overtaker. More specifically, I am learning how I can use AI as a tool for people in our community, at may have limited ways of expression or need extra help. Along with that, I also have make sure that the AI used, aline with the EU GDPR law (General Data Protection Regulation), as that is very much a big part of not just my future job, but everyone else's in the EU.

Now, I've just told you about the EU AI Act of 2024, but not how my country of Denmark has been talking and putting in protective measures on AI since 2019, with the focus on ethical usage of AI, aka protecting people and their jobs. Heck, this is the country that outlawed Uber, because it took jobs from Taxi drivers.

Companies in Denmark has been requred - by law - to report on their use of AI and Data Ethics since 2021. In other words, my country take AI and data very seriously, and don't mess around when it come to that.

Why this focus on the EU and Denmark you may ask? Well, that's because all of these laws and proposed laws, are some that I follow on a daily basis as a Danish citizen. A country that has focused on the digital ethics for years. I live in a country, where we teach children how to use AI in an ethical manner, and where we teach university how to use AI as a tool - a compliment to their studies - and not something that is supposed to take over their studies, rendering them obsolete.

I'm sorry, but whatever lack of rules and regualtions other countries may have, does not apply to me, and the increasingly strict set of rules I have to follow in my country.

I am very aware that people in Hollywood are losing their jobs due to AI, and I think it's horrifing. I'm very aware that graffic designers in other countries have lost jobs to AI, and it makes me very sad. But I am not a lord of regulations in other countries - missing or not. I am just a Danish citizen, following the Danish law and rules, and whether or not other places will look at such rules and laws themselves, I have no control over.

I am sad and disappointed in the comments in my Inbox, that is calling me all sorts of names, saying that I don't care about the environment, because I generated an AI image, totally disregarding the fact that I live in one of the most carbon neutral cities in the western world, and not knowing that I was one of the first generations of students, studying at the Danish FN's World Goals profile schools.

I am sad and disappointed in the comments in my Inbox, telling me i am uneducated, when this is literally part of my studies. When my studies and future job opportunities - among many others -, literally requries that I'm up to date with the laws regarding data and AI usage for my own country, and have been doing so, ever since I first started working in 2020.

I am sad and disappointed in the comments in my Inbox saying that I am ruining the job opportunities, because I didn't pay an artist to illustrate an image. What money may I ask you? I'm a student, doing this for free, because I enjoy it, with literally no monetary gains from this, what so ever. So what money??

I am sad and disappointed that the platform I use to write TMNT stories, should now become a ground for dicussions about AI, when that is something that should be taken up with the rule makers of where ever you live, and not a TMNT reader insert writer on Tumblr.

I refuse to take further part in the discussion about AI using my Tumblr platform, only deciding to do so now, as many messages I started recivieng were hurtful, starting to boarder on the abusive.

I leave you with this power point, showing you how AI is viewed along side jobs and people's job views and opportunities in Denmark as by 2024, made by the Nordic firm Implement Consultation Group.

Remember to treat each other with kindness, and understand the round world is different everywhere💚

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night, Part Eight: Change of Plan

Series Masterlist

Summary: While the system thinks about their latest discovery about you, another group of people talk about their own discoveries and assumptions on you as well. 

Warnings: Characters referring to the reader as "it" and other slightly dehumanizing language. The use of "Y/N" twice in the actual, I think, could be more. The reader's vampire age is revealed. It is mentioned that the hunters have been mildly keeping tabs on the reader's character. 

Author’s Snip: The plot thickens

Notes: This is honestly just a bit of a lore dump and a beginning into a new side plot that will be a drive for the main plot and introduce some characters for this story. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,599

A young man sits in a chair just outside of a private office as his female colleague sits in a chair next to him with a seat space between them. The man nervously fidgets with his hands uncomfortable in the defining silence with only the sound of a clock on the wall ticking, the woman sits straight looking at the wall in front of them. Both have their minds filled with thoughts but have either no collection in their mind or a careful collection set in place.

The young man glances at her. "How bad do you think we're going to get it?" he asks her quietly, but she gives him a glare from the side of her vision, "Just stay quiet till he calls us in." she says in a blunt town before looking back towards the bland and faint brown wallpaper. The man gives a meek nod before doing the same, but a second later he glances at the bag on the ground that she gently placed at her feet, seeing what appeared to be a manila folder peaking out of the sides.

"What's in there?" he speaks up again, but she gives him another glare, this time slightly turning her head. "Wait." is all she says.

A few ticks of the clock go by before the door to the office they were waiting for opens. An older man looks towards the chairs and sees the two sitting. His face shows that he's held a sour and angry expression for a long time, "Both of you get in here." he quietly demands, and the duo follows.

The man closes the door behind them, walks towards his desk, and sits in his chair in an upset and deeply disappointed manner. The young man shifts in his spot while the girl stands as straight and composed as possible.

"Jonathan, Marcella," he says as both a greeting and a call for them to pay attention to him. "Mr. Lawson," Marcella greets back.

"You two..." Lawson says before pausing with a wave of cringing and disappointment, "... were given a task and job. A job that was suggested by me because I thought that you were both fit to do it." he finishes his previous sentence.

"Mr. Lawson, we're very sorry for losing the vampire, we really are. The plan was-" Jonathan tries to explain before Lawson lifts his hand suddenly to stop him, "Sorry doesn't get rid of my severe disappointment in the two of you." he exclaims. "I had faith that you would be the ones to get rid of this thing. I told you all of the information we had." he explains, "Documents, maps, timelines, recent events, everything we had on it, we threw at you. And yet you still fumbled!" Lawson lists and circles back to their failure. "That thing is still out there on the streets and for all we know there could be a report of a new body coming in right now." he finishes before Marcella raises her hand slightly.

"Mr. Lawson, if I may," she says, to which Lawson gives her the go-ahead. "By no means am I saying that we were the wrong choice to choose for this task, I'm disappointed in our failure myself, but I think me and Jonathan's plan was made with a critical error in our understanding of the vampire and their intelligence," Marcella explains remaining collected with Lawson's eyes burning into her. "I can see that." Lawson comments. Marcella continues, "You see, our plan was that since the vampire was attacking criminals that were lurking in the allies, the plan was setting up a bait by staging a mugging." Marcella says, "I'll have to give credit to Jonathan for that. " she remarks before continuing, "But at the time it seemed good. Stage the mugging, have the vampire appear, then stake them.".

"The plan did work, we did get some hits on them, but the vampire managed to flee and we unfortunately lost them in the chase." Marcella concludes.

"So? It still got away." Lawson replies. "That's the thing, Mr. Lawson. They didn't fight us. They tried to attack Jonathan at first but were smart enough to flee when they realized that the both of us were attacking back.", Jonathan nods to confirm Marcella's claims, "They understood that they had a disadvantage in a two-against-one." she added. "Meaning?" Lawson prompts, not seeing where the young woman is heading with this. "Meaning they're not simple-minded. They aren't mindlessly eating. They know what they're doing and can access a situation independently with no command." Marcella says.

Mr. Lawson looks at her with a confused look, not knowing where the young woman is heading with all this. She notices and brings her theory to the front, "Think about it, sir. The timeline you provided us about this vampire dates back to the 1800s. They're one of the oldest that the group is still hunting to this day. Before then, it took care of many colonies and has taken care of more afterward to the point that modern ones are extremely rare to the point of being myths. Meaning that this one has to be independent from any other possible vampire. They can think for themselves. They have no colony or master to serve. They are not a fledgling." Marcella describes.

"I see..." Lawson mutters as he thinks about these details. "And you bring this up why? If I may ask." Lawson questions. "I have a theory," Marcella claims with the slightest tone of feeling proud of her apparent theory. "Then get on with it, girl." Lawson instructs.

Marcella takes a breath to steady her nerves, pulls out the folder from her bag, and takes out various papers. "I've spent the time since our failure looking for some type of leads to make a better plan with more information to go off of and fill in any gaps." Marcella states. "You didn't tell me about any of this, Marcy." Jonathan buds in. "I'm sorry, Jonathan, but you had a lot of confidence in your plan and wouldn't take any criticism so I wanted to dive into this rabbit hole without any distractions," Marcella says before placing the papers on Lawson's desk.

"So, I went looking for clues to maybe use as leads so I started off with searching for any strange occurrences involving blood. And I found this," Marcella explains pointing to an article clipping that talks about a string of blood banks and blood storages of clinics being noted to be mysteriously losing bags of blood. "I managed to get my hands on some of these hit locations' security camera footage near the rooms of storage and found that each of them had this same person enter into the rooms using a nurse card to get access.", she points to a man with dark hair and tan skin wearing nurse scrubs and a driver's hat that manages to obscure their face from the cameras. "I also got info from the card readers that allow access, and around all these times that this man shows up and gets access to the rooms using a card, it shows a nurse's name in the log to keep track of who goes in and at what time. The card used is a blood drive nurse's card, but that nurse doesn't work in drives anymore." Marcella says as she points to another photo. "The former nurse looks like this. He's fair-skinned and blond. He looks nothing like this." Marcella explains. "But this also isn't the vampire either, they look nothing alike." she clarifies.

"But I mapped out the clinics and drives, the residence of the former nurse, and even the common hunting grounds of the vampire," Marcella says as she pulls out the street map she has printed out and already marked, showing that they all are in the same general area of each other. Lawson and Jonathan look at all this info and look towards Marcella to hear more.

"Now," Marcella says, "I want to go over some stuff that I'm sure we all know by now." she continues, "Y/N has been around for centuries, they are independent, they appear to have some abilities to them going off of some incidents that are connected to them, and they have spent most of their time eating and evading hunts. They have had time to develop something according to most common behaviors that vampires tend to have that have been observed." Marcella plots out.

"My theory..." she draws out, "Is that Y/N has the desire to create a colony of their own but need the sources and power to do so and so they've been feeding on criminals, but have taken to settling on stealing since we've arrived, and that this person at the banks is either a fledgling of theirs or someone they have under their influence." she concludes.

"And this entails what, exactly?" Mr. Lawson questions, wanting to hear her say the whole idea. Marcella looks towards the older man with a tone of confidence "This means that the vampire has to be hiding and creating their colony in this general area. If we keep an eye out around here, we may be able to find them and get them once and for all." she explains.

"That sounds like a good place and theory." Mr. Lawson says. "I'll see what we can do to help with making this new plan work and keeping watch." he states.

"We won't fail this time, sir." Marcella says as she glances at her partner for a brief moment.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Can you please tell me some wholesome facts about the revolutionaries? 😊

In his notes on Robespierre (written somewhere right after thermidor) Fréron claims that, at least while at college, ”one cannot remember to have seen him laugh once.” But then later he writes that ”the witty naiveties of Camille Desmoulins made Robespierre laugh until he cried.”

On January 23 1793, Lucile Desmoulins writes in her diary about witnessing the funeral procession of Louis-Michel le Peletier, a deputy murdered on the 20th after having voted for death during the king’s trial. She was very touched by what she saw and couldn’t stop her tears for a while. After all her guests have left that evening she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts, so ”I ran to D(anton’s). He was moved to see me still pale and defeated. We drank tea, I supped there.”

In his memoirs, Barras reports the following about Augustin Robespierre:

[Napoleon] informed me that a woman of the lower classes, who had been assisted by Robespierre the Younger, had been arraigned before the Revolutionary Tribunal and sentenced to death during his absence from Paris, and that on his return he had expressed disapproval of the sentence, sent for the twelve-year-old son of that woman, clothed him, and admitted him to his table; the boy feeling sad, Ricord commanded him to drink to the health of the Republic, but the lad refused; thereupon Robespierre the Younger, addressing Ricord, said to him: ”Respect such a character. You would not do as much under similar circumstances." 

On October 20 Couthon wrote a very clingy letter to Saint-Just while away on a mission to Lyon — ”You haven't written me a line, my friend, since we parted; I blame you for it, because you promised me that in any case of absence, you would give me your news. […] You know, my dear friend, that I need, to console myself for the evils that overwhelm me, testimonies of interest from those I esteem; tell me then that you exist, that you are well, that you have not forgotten me, and I will be happy.”

Le Bas also wrote quite warmly about SJ in a letter to his wife dated November 28 1793:

We went this morning, Saint-Just and I, to visit one of the highest mountains at the top of which is an old fort in ruins, placed on an immense rock. We both felt, looking around, a delicious feeling. This is the first day that we have had a break. […] Saint-Just is almost as eager as I to see Paris again. I promised him dinner from your hand. I’m glad you don’t hold it against him; he is an excellent man; I love and esteem him more and more by every passing day. The Republic has no more ardent, more intelligent defender. The most perfect agreement, the most constant harmony reigned among us. What makes him even dearer to me is that he often talks to me about you and consoles me as much as he can. He sets a high value, it seems to me, on our friendship, and he says things to me from time to time with a very good heart.

Élisabeth Le Bas confirms her husband’s feelings for Saint-Just in her memoirs, when describing the relationship between the three while on a mission together:

Saint-Just had the most delicate attentions for me en route and the considerations of a tender brother. At each relay station, he descended from the coach to see if anything was missing, for fear of an accident. He saw me suffering so much that he feared for me. He was, at last, so good and so attentive to my sister-in-law and me that the trip did not seem long to us. My beloved was very sensitive to all his kindnesses and gave him all his recognition. To pass the time, these messieurs would read us Molière plays or some passages from Rabelais, and sang Italian airs; they made every effort to distract us and make me forget my suffering.

When Camille on December 11 1790 was finally given permission by Lucile’s parents to marry their daughter, he described his reaction the following way: ”When her mother told me a moment ago, she brought me to her room; I threw myself on Lucile’s lap; surprised at hearing her laugh I open my eyes, hers were in no better state than mine, she was all in tears, she was even crying profusely and yet she was still laughing. I have never seen such a delightful spectacle, and I would not have imagined that nature and sensibility could unite these two contrasts to such an extent.”

In February 1793 Camille and Lucile went on a short trip to Essonne, where they lived alone in an old castle and amused themselves with going for walks, riding donkeys, fishing and boating. In a letter to her mother Lucile reports: ”You would laugh if you saw C(amille) as a boatman, rowing as hard as he can and at any moment flanking the boat against the first point of land that it meets. What a pity that it isn’t summer! […] Write to me as soon as possible to let is know the day you have chosen for us to pick you up at Essonne in a cabriolet and me on my donkey.”

On August 9 1793, Madame Roland was joined in prison by Pétion’s wife Anne Madeleine Françoise and ten year old son Louis Étienne Jérôme. Judging by what she wrote in her memoirs and letters (1, 2, 3), it would appear like she took them both under her wing:

I suffered for my poor companion beyond words. It was I who undertook the sad task of preparing her for the blow she hardly expected, and of announcing it to her (Most likely a reference to the death of Anne’s mother, executed in Paris on September 24 1793). I was sure to bring to it the alleviations that another would perhaps have found with difficulty, because it is only my position that could make me share her pain so well. This circumstance caused her to be sent to me; we eat together, and she likes to spend most of the days near me; I work much less, but I am useful, and this feeling makes me taste a kind of charm that the tyrants do not know. […] I receive Lady B's letters with gratitude. I do not know them, I intend to make them useful for two people, I will have little P(étion) read them; I had only Thompson which he could not yet understand.

Éléonore Duplay also appears to have been a huge support to her little sister Élisabeth and two month old nephew Philippe while the three sat in prison together after thermidor. In her memoirs, Élisabeth writes — ”Oh! I will not in a lifetime forget you! For without you I would have succumbed; but, with your courage, you revived my strength and made me see that I had a great task to fulfill, that I had a son, that I needed to live for him. […] No, good dear sister Éléonore, I will not forget your devotion to me and your poor little nephew in a lifetime; my recognition will be eternal!”

Lucile Desmoulins and Hébert’s wife Marie Marguerite Françoise they too seem to have been rather inseparable both while in prison together and on their way to the scaffold.

After the death of Phillippeaux and Desmoulins, the former’s wife Marguerite became friends with the latter’s mother-in-law Annette. The two processed their grief together and also let their children, Auguste Phillippeaux (1787) and Horace Desmoulins (1792) get to know and play with each other. Five letters from Marguerite to Annette have been published, and they really are quite wholesome.

Other posts I’ve already made that contain wholesome stuff:

Cute animals compilation

Horace Desmoulins

Robespierre with children

[blood-orange-juice]

Now that everyone is also in awe of that twitter thread about Childe being Smart I want to rebutt half of it.

Personally, I think he's perfectly average/a bit smarter than average, or rather good at some things and bad at others.

He's a quick thinker, proven by his character stories (people are indeed not assigned into vanguard just for dumb strength) and by how he used Traveler to check whether the forged sigil worked and sow some discord in the process (obviously his own plan and a good one at that. and he came up with it in a matter of minutes). Being able to lie through omission is no easy feat either.

He's quite poetic and it's usually a sign of intelligent person. (modern AU untraumatized Childe would 100% be a literature major, don't @ me. he'd also like Manowar)

However, he is also young, had no proper mentor and no formal education. Also brash and too self-confident at times. You *need* to be comfortable with doubting youself to be smart, it's thinking 101.

*

For starters, not suspecting Zhongli to be Rex Lapis was... an accomplishment in and by itself. The city breathes of this story. There are at least three books on the topic, it's told in every tea house, the traveler learns it through a single conversation with a trader in port. A golden-eyed person with excellent taste is always Rex Lapis or at least should be suspected to be him.

Childe somehow missed it, while being able to analyze intricacies of Qixing politics. This is bizarre and means that either he's extremely narrowinded (he doesn't show signs of that, quite the opposite), or that he was simply repeating someone else's ideas. His subordinates obviously bring him news and reports. So… how do we know his ability for political analysis is his and not someone else's?

He does look like the type who would repeat another person's good idea as his own (I'm imagining that's exactly how Zhongli tricked him into that whole sigil of permission thing).

Having said that, being able to listen to information brought by your subordinates is a rare and precious trait, I wish some of my bosses were more like that, haha.

(alternative option: that is in fact his own skill and one of the few skills where he did get actual mentorship. Pulcinella drilled attention to politics into his brain because otherwise things always got too messy when Childe got involved

it would also mean that nothing can drill attention to cultural stuff into Childe's brain because fuck it we ball)

*

Being able to copy sigils well enough? First, it's the job for the r&d team (can we have some appreciation for the Fatui r&d team, please)? Second, I'm not sure anyone truly copied those. Maybe Zhongli just enchanted every single one.

I they were actually succesfully copied, we have a problem of fatui being able to mass-print them and I don't want to think of the consequences. I hope Zhongli didn't let that happen.

*

Manipulating Traveler to do what he wanted in the Liyue arc? It's not like the Traveler had a lot of options or any personal loyalty to the Qixing. Did anyone really trust him to be our friend? What other choice did we have though but to follow his lead.

That's 10/10 for opportunistic thinking but it's not really a showcase of his manipulation skills (I'll keep thinking his social skills are abysmal until proven otherwise).

*

Being able to tell you just came from the blacksmith? Please, it's not him being observant, he just had you followed.

*

So, yeah... he's smart but he's also, what, 19? 20? (I hc him on the younger side because it helps me overlook his bad traits). It's amazing he got this far and he'll become smart one day but that day hasn't happened yet.

In other words he is far from dumb but the fatui do treat him as dumb muscle because what do you expect.

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Highway Hypnosis

Chapter 7: Meadow Report

I miss gossip. I miss rushing home from the library at the drop of a hat because Nora, my roommate, had “major dirt” on a classmate that couldn’t wait until I was done studying. Those text messages (or, better yet, phone calls)��the “Come home right now” followed by the “You won’t believe what I heard in the diner today”—summoned me quicker than any house fire ever could. It’s horrible, but it doesn’t feel that way when it’s happening. It feels like an accomplishment, like you’re receiving high-priority intelligence. Young people are wasted in retail and food service; we could really be put to use as spies, I think. It’s an inherent sneakiness that’s kind of thrilling, an unspoken code of conduct that we adhere to without being told: information is to be exchanged only in person, unless it’s an objective and irrefutable fact, in which case you may send it in a text message (but why would you, when it’s so much fun to see the look on your friends’ faces when you spill all the latest drama?). “Tell no one” means “Tell everyone, just don’t let them trace it back to me,” and “You can’t know this” means “No really, tell no one.” I want to exercise my knowledge of this code, to be once again on the receiving end of “You won’t believe this,” but it appears that the only good source of gossip around here is me.

I’ve just about given up on my dreams of scandalous water cooler conversation—having three friends, two of them men, will do that to a girl—when it becomes clear that, unbeknownst to me, I have created the biggest scandal in Evergreen since the death of my uncle. It runs in the family, I guess. The scandal in question? It pertains to Jasper Stevens, because lately I’m nothing without his lanky shadow following me around.

“Tell me everything,” Janie says immediately after clocking in, practically skidding around the corner with a crate of whole coffee beans in tow. She knows something I don’t.

I raise an eyebrow, nearly letting Joshy’s coffee cup overflow as I refill it from the pitcher. “Everything about what?”

Janie rolls her eyes. “Don’t be like that, Andie!”

I turn to Joshy, who’s sitting at the bar. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

He nods, amused. “Moss,” he offers, though I can tell by his sage manner that I won’t be getting any more information from him.

“Oh, Jasper? What about him?”

Janie’s exaggerated groan tells me that she’s at least as starved for good gossip as I am, but I’m no less lost for it. She sets her crate down on the bar before turning to me and, in a voice like a kindergarten teacher’s, says: “Moss was in here the other day. You two left together. Tell me everything.”

“Moss never hangs out in town,” Joshy adds helpfully, “he’s like a cryptid.”

I nod. I think I get it now. And really, who am I to deny a fellow woman the joy of being entirely too invested in someone else’s business? It’s one of life’s purest joys. I assume the position: the one everyone knows, that invites others into your confidence. Elbows on the counter, leaning forward—come closer, I’ll tell you a secret. Janie follows suit, standing beside me with her ear trained toward me. Even Joshy leans in, eager to hear what I have to say. “Well,” I begin, “we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

“I knew it,” Janie hisses, slapping the counter.

“At first it was just coincidental, you know? But he started coming over once a week to change out his books and then—I don’t know, we’ve been hanging out. Am I crazy?”

Janie says “No” at the same time that Joshy says “Yes,” and I groan in protest. The couple stares at each other for a few moments, engaged in a silent stalemate. Without breaking eye contact, Joshy raises his hand. “Joshua,” I acknowledge.

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing,” he says, turning his gaze on me, “this is a really small town, Andie. You need to be completely sure before you make a move. Really weigh those pros and cons.”

“Oh my god, is that what you did before we started dating? You made a pros and cons list?” Janie says, whacking Joshy’s arm. “You know what?” She asks, as he dodges another blow, “Don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

I put my head down on my arms and take a deep breath before coming back up. “Janie?”

“I think you have to go for it,” she says, “partly because I’m curious—I mean, being in a relationship with Moss, what would that even look like?—but mostly because I want you to be happy, and I think he could be the person to make that happen.”

“You think?”

“I think. Moss isn’t one of those guys you just casually hang out with, you know? He’s an acquired taste. You must get each other though,” she says thoughtfully, “anyway, you lured him into a public cafe, so that’s got to count for something.”

“What do you guys even talk about?” Joshy pipes up, “I mean, I love the guy, but he’s not a real conversationalist, you know what I mean?”

This gives me pause. What do we talk about? We talk about everything, so entirely that it feels like nothing. Like water flowing over rocks, or silk sliding across your skin. It’s unimpeded, uninterrupted even in our moments of silence. One long, continuous conversation. “Everything,” I say, “honestly, if I didn’t know he had a reputation I’d just think he was a run-of-the-mill introvert.”

“So weird,” Janie murmurs, “I mean, you know we all love him, he’s family. But like, the type of family who writes you a letter every five years from a different country, you know?”

“Yeah,” I sigh absently. I want to tell them about that night at the cabin, where he clasped my head to his chest and let his warm cologne breathe life back into my body. I want to tell them about the river, where his hand on my knee sealed my fate as his devoted acolyte. Hell, I want to tell them about how he exchanged War and Peace, unfinished, for The Hobbit because it’s summer and he “should be having fun.” But something about those stories feels too personal to share, like they’re just for us. Eyes on us would ruin the illusion, if that’s all it is.

“For what it’s worth,” Joshy says, “I haven’t seen him so…I don’t know, outgoing? Not for a good couple of years, at least.”

Janie nods, looking like she’s deep in thought. “Yeah. Yeah, come to think of it, he has been more talkative. He gave me a recipe for risotto the other day because he noticed I was buying rice.”

Risotto. Would you look at that. I rake a hand through my hair, wrenching my gaze from my companions as the front window is suddenly assaulted by a barrage of gigantic rain drops. Jesus, it’s like the sky’s got something to prove. I lament a moment for my sundress, which is sure to become a liability on my walk home assuming the storm doesn’t let up in the next ten minutes.

“You wanna head out?” Janie asks, seeing straight through me. “Go ahead, it’ll be dead until the rain stops.”

“Mmkay,” I reply, untying my apron, “call me if you need me.” It’s a formality. She won’t call.

The walk home is, as expected, a balmy torrent of rain that weighs on my dress and clings to my skin. I reflexively fold my arms around my body, but give up consciously after reminding myself that there’s no point. The rain is so all-encompassing it may as well be the air itself I’m passing through, soaking me to the bone. I’m inclined to shiver despite its slimy warmth, and I pick up the pace as I approach the cabin (the cabin which is still a The, caught in the limbo between a His and a My).

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Soaked and saturated, on your front porch steps. Jasper Stevens rises to stand as I approach, unfolding his limbs and stretching like a cat. He passes through the downpour without so much as a blink.

“What are you doing here?” I call, jogging to meet him so we don’t have to yell above the rain. He’s got this look, like he’s faced some kind of ancient evil and accepted his fate.

“Last time it rained like this you had a panic attack,” he says. The rain’s numbed me to everything but his fingertips against the line of my cheekbone. He’s searching me for god knows what—labored breathing, signs of fatigue, I don’t know. It’s mortifying, and I would shrink from him if it didn’t mean he’d stop touching me.

“That wasn’t a panic attack, and it wasn’t because of the rain,” I say casually, taking a small step into his personal space. Janie’s words are circling me like vultures. She’s the devil on my shoulder, convincing me from afar that this man is the solution to my past, present, and future problems. As if sensing my line of thought, he freezes. His breath hitches in his throat for half a second before he continues as if nothing happened. “Why are you really here?”

“Andie…” he says softly, his voice melodic. Sweet and low, like dark brandy.

“Jasper,” I reply. Kiss me, damn it. I can’t be the first one to fold, I’m not the space alien here. Eyes. Lips. Eyes. Kiss me, Jasper Stevens.

I don’t notice the glide of his fingers across my skin until his thumb is brushing my lower lip. “I can’t…” he trails off. I’m about to roll my eyes or finish his sentence or both when he picks it back up: “I can’t be casual about this. If we do this, I mean.”

“What makes you think I want to be casual with you?” I ask. One of us is the Earth right now, pulling the other one in by some invisible gravitational force. I can’t tell if it’s me or him. What makes this man think that I, all of four inches from his face, want anything but his entire self? Here, moments from changing the very fabric of our relationship, I am more certain than ever that I want to immerse myself in him fully. I want us to change each other, I want to change us, I want us to remain exactly as we are. He looks entirely overwhelmed, and I want him to know that it’s really so simple. All he has to do is lean in, and it’ll all be crystal clear.

Jasper’s lips are soft, slightly parted as they brush across mine. A plea for entry, an experimental knock before turning the key he’s always held. I slide a hand over the back of his neck, fingers carding through his hair where the rain has curled it away from his skin. My other hand tangles with his somewhere to my right before eventually settling on his chest. His breath catches again, as if I’ve somehow caught him off-guard, and then he’s pulled me in by the waist and he’s kissing me—really—and it’s all I can do not to collapse into him. I can only hope that his thoughts are as blissfully simple as mine are in this moment: this is right this is right this is right.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Manaan - Chapter 123

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 122. Chapter 124.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag. (god are any of you even still active)

A/N - I have a new job! I work IT! Which is only one part of the reason that I haven't updated or really written a lot.

ugh tumblr desktop

——–

The Republic enclave is in the other direction from the mercenary enclave. I try to keep an eye on the sea, try to keep calm and focused, I just want to get this done. One step at a time. Some Sith try to sling insults and taunts at us, but I don’t pay attention to it. I’m not in any mood to fight or play. I just need to focus.

At the enclave. A dude at a desk - he looks important. “Welcome to Manaan,” he says, “I am Roland Wann. As the official representative of the Republic Embassy on this planet, I am here to help all citizens of the Republic should they require aid.”

Okay, well, aid I certainly require. “I’m on a mission from the Jedi Council,” I say, “Maybe you can help me with it.”

He looks a little shocked. Awestruck, maybe. “Uh… of course, of course. I will do whatever I can,” he says. But then a hint of confusion. “But I am only a simple diplomatic representative of the Republic. I doubt I can be of any use to the Jedi Council.”

“You know more about the planet than I do,” I say, “just by merit of living here. I’m looking for a Star Map, a remnant of an ancient and forgotten race. I had a vision that told me it was on the ocean floor.” A vision. No, a memory. But what does it really matter? I know it’s down there, I just need to know where and how to get there.

A look of understanding passes Roland Wann’s face. “An ancient and forgotten race…” he repeats contemplatively,”… and you think it may be here on Manaan? Hm…”

“I don’t think it’s here, I know it is,” I reiterate, “Does it sound familiar?”

“Well… ” he says slowly, “…perhaps. But if you want to get information about that, you'll have to do something for me first.”

Everyone wants something from me. Everyone wants me to do something for them. Like people take one look at the lightsaber and think “how can I exploit this person for my own benefit?” But here… I don’t have much choice here, do I? I have to get that Star Map. To find Bastila, to stop Malak, to save the galaxy, to end the war. And maybe, if I’m lucky, to make some peace with myself. I sigh. “What do you want me to do?”

“We were using a submersible reconnaissance droid in the ocean surrounding Ahto City and it was... damaged,” he says. Damaged how? “It took a data recording of the outside of the city before being driven off by the firaxan sharks.” Those are pretty ballsy sharks, recon droids are massive. “But while it was returning to the surface it encountered difficulties and was disabled. Its automatic systems floated it to the surface, but we could not retrieve it in time. The Sith were applying subtle pressure to the Selkath authorities for some reason we have not determined, and were able to delay us long enough that they could retrieve the droid before we did. The droid's data centers are heavily encrypted, so it will take the Sith several days, we believe, to get to its data. It was captured 12 hours ago. It is imperative that we get it back.”

“What’s the recording of, out of curiosity?” I ask.

“It's intelligence information about Sith activities on Manaan,” he says, “as well as some oceanographic reports on the local marine life.”

Intelligence on the Sith? Couldn’t that be a violation of Manaan’s neutrality? If the Republic is trying to undermine the Sith, that could lead to kolto sanctions or, worse, being banned from Manaan altogether. He seriously wants to risk that? Am I the only one who cares?

Carth touches my shoulder. “Rena?” he asks gently, “Something on your mind?”

Yeah, something’s on my mind! Does the Selkath’s neutrality, and the very real consequences for violating it, matter to nobody? The Sith are out here probably kidnapping Selkath youth, the Republic is spying on the Sith from underwater, they could both have their rights to the kolto revoked, functionally losing the war, and that doesn’t matter to them? I could turn this over to the Selkath, maybe they’d appreciate my commitment to their neutrality if I give them the data recording. Maybe they’d even tell me about the Star Map, because how could they not be aware of it, even a little? But then again, maybe they wouldn’t for the sake of their neutrality. Then I would have just betrayed the Republic and screwed myself over, twice. I don’t know. My head is too full. I can’t think. “Nothing,” I lie, “It’s nothing.” He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push it.

“You need our information,” Wann says, “and I guarantee you that you will never be able to get it unless we have our secrecy guaranteed against the Sith.”

“Where is the droid?” Carth asks.

“It is heavily guarded, we are sure, in the Sith Embassy here on Manaan.” Oh, you mean the palace that, if I break into it, I’ll be arrested? That place? A place that, if I enter, as a Republic citizen, working for the Republic, could get the Republic trade sanctions on Manaan? Cut them off from life-saving kolto? That place? That Sith Embassy? For God’s sake. “Since we have no remaining soldiers to spare, and certainly not our elite ones, we have no one capable of entering the Sith base and retrieving it. That is what we would ask you to do.”

I… I don’t know. I don't feel very good. “Let me…” I start to say, “... can I get back to you?” I don’t even give him time to answer, I need to go. I step out and go to the window. Look out at the ocean. 

Nope, that’s not helping. That’s not helping at all. That’s making me feel worse. I sit down on a bench and face away from the window.

I see Carth sort of half-jog over to me from the enclave. “I had a feeling you weren’t all right,” he says, sitting next to me. 

“No, I feel like shit, actually,” I say. I smirk a bit. “But then you’ve seen me like this before,” I say, “On Taris.”

He remembers. “No,” he says, shaking his head, “Taris was different.” Different? Different how? “On Taris you were angry. This isn’t angry, this is… scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I say.

“And you’re still a lousy liar.”

“I’m not lying, I swear!”

“Rena,” he says, looking at me gently with those big, deep eyes of his, “maybe you can fool yourself, but I’ve known you for three months, we’ve spent three months in close quarters. Maybe you can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. You’re scared of something.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, seriously. “So what, exactly, am I afraid of, Detective Onasi?”

“You’re doubting your own abilities,” he says without missing a beat, “You’re afraid that, even with everything you’ve already done, you can’t do it anymore.”

Wait, what? That’s… that’s ridiculous, that’s not true! That’s- that’s not true at all. “I don’t know why you’re afraid of that,” he says, “I mean, I know why in your head. I’m saying it’s not rational.” So you’re saying this fear, that I don’t even have, that you’re saying I do have, isn’t rational? You’re calling me irrational now? “You’re still the same person you were last week.”

“But I’m not, am I?” I say quickly, “I’m not and I never will be again. I’m completely different now, and nothing you can say will change that.”

“But you’re not completely different,” he says. Yeah, dude, yeah I am. “Forget about Revan for a second.”

“Forget about Revan?” I repeat, “How can I ‘forget’ about it? How can I just ‘forget’ being lied to by the Jedi Council about my identity, having memories implanted in my head, being used, being surveilled - how can I just ‘forget’ that?!”

“Rena, I’m not going to fight with you,” he says calmly, “If the past week taught me anything, it’s that shouting at you is the wrong way to go about this.” Then how can you just tell me to “forget” about Revan? “And since I disagree with Master Zhar that quoting the Jedi Code will mean anything to you, I’m just going to wait.”

Wait, you…? “You talked with Master Zhar?” I ask, in a softer voice.

“He made a point of finding me on Alderaan,” he says, “I was mad about it for a while, but apparently Bastila was reporting back to the Council about you, and my name came up more than once. They put two and two together.”

“And he told you to quote the Jedi Code at me.” Why am I not surprised? 

“‘There is no emotion, there is peace,’” he recites, “He insisted I should say that to you if you got upset, but I thought that was the wrong way to go. And from your change in tone, it looks like I was right.” I can’t help but smile at him. He’s just… so adorable. “As I was about to say,” he continues, “maybe in your head you’ve changed, and maybe just the idea of Revan is having an effect mentally, but physically? You have the exact same skill set, the same physical capabilities you had last week.” Well… “I watched you jump across a room on Dantooine. And you disabled those ancient, massive droids on Korriban. You became the Taris duel champion, stole the Ebon Hawk from Davik, broke into a Sand People settlement and made peace, helped kill a krayt dragon, took on the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy, killed a grand total of four ancient Sith creatures, two of them on your own, and you’re worried you won’t be able to break into a Sith base?”

Well… when you put it that way… “I guess,” I say in a small voice, “Mostly, though, I’m worried what this could do to Republic kolto exports. We’re obviously Republic-allied, it would be hard for anyone to believe the Republic wasn’t involved.”

He gives me a sort of glance at first, like I’m just coming up with more excuses. But he acknowledges that it’s a valid concern. “You and I both know the Sith aren’t innocent in this,” he says, “They’re trying to get their hands into the Selkath government to get more kolto for themselves.”

“So because they’re doing it, so should we.” Really, dude?

“You don’t believe that and you know it,” he says, “I know it because I know you. You’ve said it yourself, the Sith actively want to hurt people, you don’t support that. You don’t believe laws are absolute, and if doing the right thing means breaking a law, then you will watch the law shatter. Don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t.”

He’s right. Again. I just feel so nervous. So not myself. Whatever that means anymore. I think it would be nice sometimes if I didn’t have to be myself.

Wait. That’s an idea. That’s a good idea. “What if we weren’t ourselves?”

Carth straightens, confused. “What do you mean?”

“As ourselves, we’d never get into the Sith base without risking the Republic kolto exports,” I say, “But the Republic is hiring mercenaries at a prodigious rate, and if I was a Sith diplomat seeing that, I’d want to hire some, too, just to stop the Republic from hiring them. Canderous is still down in the cantina looking into it - if he gets a job offer from the Sith, then we could get into their base, no questions asked. Plus we end up taking Sith money, so everyone wins. Except the Sith, of course.”

Carth smiles at me. “That’s the Rena I know,” he says. He stands and extends a hand to help me up. I don’t need the help but I take it anyway, just because it feels nice.

As we walk back to the Republic base, I buzz Canderous on my comlink. “Next Sith job you get, take it, and say you’re bringing along two other mercs.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a fun little scheme in the works,” he says, “I like it. I’ll let you know when I’ve got the job.”

While Carth was talking to me, Juhani was talking to Roland Wann. “Ah,” he says when he sees us come back, “you’re back. I was just telling your companion here about our possible leads into the Sith base. I assume you will be assisting us, as your friend said.”

“I will, but I’ve got my own lead,” I say, “We know the Republic has been hiring a lot of mercenaries - is it safe to assume the Sith have been doing the same?”

“Well… yes, that’s true, but --”

“The Sith are going to hire us,” I say quickly.

Wann is stunned into silence. It is Juhani who speaks first. “Rena,” she says slowly, “Are you sure that is wise? What if Canderous is unable to get recruited?”

My comlink buzzes. “This is Canderous. I just got recruited by the Sith. The recruiter gave me three base passes - we can go whenever you’re ready.”

I can’t help but give Juhani a smug little grin. “Thanks, Canderous,” I say, “We’ll meet back up with you soon.”

Now Juhani is stunned into silence. “As effective a method as that is,” Roland Wann says, finally able to speak, “it also sounds incredibly risky. I would advise you at least hear the leads we already have.”

“But that’s all you have - leads,” I say, “May way, I already have a guaranteed way in, and an excuse if the Selkath accuse me of breaking in on behalf of the Republic.” He tries to object a little. “I don’t know why you’re complaining - we get in, get your droid information, you tell us about the Star Map, we all go home happy.”

”The Sith base itself is very heavily guarded,” he says, “If they became aware of your presence, I fear you would be quickly outnumbered and killed.”

”I’ve been outnumbered and killed before, I can do it again.”

”You’ve been killed before?” he asks skeptically.

”I know what I said,” I say. I was a Sith Lord, apparently, and I’ve come to discover I still have the muscle necessary. I was able to do a pretty good job against Malak, after all.

He gives a bit of a shrug. “If you’re sure, then,” he says, scribbling a number on a piece of paper, “If you change your mind, here is a passcard to get you inside our facility, as well as the access code to the reconnaissance droid. If you decide to try one of our leads, you should find all the information you need to get started inside. As long as you get the data recording back, use whichever method you like.” He hands me the Republic passcard and the slip of paper with the access code. “I wish you luck in your task,” he says, “Should you retrieve the data recording from the droid, return it here to me and we can see about getting you that information.”

“I admit,” Juhani says as we leave the Republic base, “I am nervous about this plan.”

“I don’t see what there is to worry about,” I say, “We have legitimate passes into the Sith base and a cover. Sure, It’ll probably involve a fight, but I don’t think there was ever a scenario where there wouldn’t be a fight.” I shrug, “If you’re so nervous, you don’t have to go. Carth, Canderous, and I can Do it.” She doesn’t respond. ‘We should head back to the shit anyway to put on more inconspicuous clothes. Me and Canderous are definitely going, but he’s only got three passes, so you two can either fight it out or just surrender to the other. Your call.”

She looks at Carth, and the two of them seem to have a completely nonverbal conversation in the space of four seconds. Until finally, “Perhaps you are right,” she says, “I do not think I could pass as a mercenary. I shall stay behind.”

Okay, glad that’s settled. Now all we need to do is look the part.

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 7: old partners

The walk was quite. Wesker gave Jill the order for her to go to her room and stay. I knew what Jill was thinking. I appeared as a traitor to my brother and the world. When we reached her room I checked for cameras, mics, bugs anything that would let Wesker hear what I was about to say. The room was clean. Once the doors closed I spoke.

"I am sorry Jill, but things have go this way." I choked out.

She lunged at me, "I can't believe you would do this to Chris T. It's fucking sick."

I dropped to my knees and started to cry, "I can't let my daughter's last wish go unfulfilled Jill, she wanted me to be the one to tear down his empire. If I don't hic Alistars death would of been for nothing." I sobbed silently.

She was taken back, "What do you mean?" She asked with genuine concern.

I stood up and using a single motion I wiped away my tears, "Back in Russia, we had a plan to end Wesker. My daughter and I were going to tear his world down and break him. It seems that I won't even be able to do that yet. Please Jill trust your old partner."

[Flash back late 1996]

I walked in to the S.T.A.R.S. office. Barry greeted me with his usual look what the cat pulled out of the bag joke. He was serving in the air force with my brother not too long ago, so he treated me like his family. That was much to the dismay of my husband.

"Tabitha can you come in to my office?" Wesker walked to his door beckoning me to him.

"Coming sir." I responded quickly and jogged over to his office.

"Close the door and sit." He spoke taking off his sun glasses as soon as the door closed.

As I sat he grabbed the top of his nose and sighed, his eyes had dark circles underneath them. He clearly didn't come home last night or even slept from the looks of it.

"What happened?" I asked in an extremely worried tone.

"I'm getting annoyed with how you and Mr. Burton act towards each other. You need to be professional at the office." He said.

I glared straight in to his green eyes, "Cut the fucking bullshit Albert and tell me what actually is going on. You didn't come home last night and I highly doubt Barry cracking shitty puns is what keep you from coming home.".

He sighed as he spoke, "You have always been able to read me like an open book, Tabitha." He rolled his neck and placed his hand on after, "The cameras in the training facity show Marcus is alive again. He is acting coherently and to add to the issue reports of a woman in white walking around the facility as well. Umbrella is having me keep an eye on the situation."

"Fuck, do they have any idea how its possible? I know the T-virus can bring back corpses, but they have next to no intelligence. They only possess the need to feed. Is it affecting the mansion forest or labs?"  I nearly jump out of the chair hearing this information.

"You are not the only one baffled by this. I reached out to other departments. Sergei has been inform that the training facility is no longer able to be used. He is less than pleased. He said he was going to send you back in '92 to reclaim it; however, you dissappeared. So we are going on alert in the lab. I'm also going to start recuiting again, just incase S.T.A.R.S. needs to be called out to tackle the mess this causes. Enrico has his team almost completed, he just needs a medic now. That brings me to why I brought you in here, I'm not confident in Vickers piloting alone and we don't have a second rear security agent." He said placing a file infront of me,"I found someone I want brought into the S.T.A.R.S. unit.".

I picked up the file, "Jill Valentine? Well I'm not surprised, based on this file she is an impeccable soldier." I read thru the file.

"I've decided to recuit her for alpha team, I already interviewed her over the phone. I told her about a week ago she got the job. I want you to train her, you are better at converstion than me."

I chuckled, "You mean I have better people skills than you. I'll take the compliment and for a pilot talk to Berry, he did serve in the air force."

"I'll discuss it with him, can you wait for Miss Valentine?" He asked.

I stood up, " Understood captain." I headed towards the door, "Oh and Wesk?"

"Yes lotus?" He looked directly at me.

"After this go home and get some shut eye, I'll handle things today." I smiled.

"If you insist." With his response I walked out closing his door.

I headed over to my desk and grabbed my holster from the drawer.  Attaching it to my uniform, I headed over to the safe on the wall. Running a hand over the cold steel my body shivered at what Albert told me. If Marcus was alive that means the T-virus is loose. At least that area is at least a hundred miles away from here. It would take . I watched the cctv recording of his death in Russia, to think that he could just wander around after this many years terrified me. I wondered how far his twisted reach went.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I jumped back falling on Berry "Hey T, whats got you so antsy? It's like you just walked out of a horror movie."

I shook my self off and punched the code into the safe retrieving my samurai edge and my knife, "Just a bit stressed Berry. I will be okay, I promise. Actually can I ask you a question?."

"You mean other than that one sure." Berry smiled at his little joke.

"What do you want me to bake for Polly's birthday?" I smiled trying to hide what was really going on in my head.

"Oh thats what is on your mind. Polly loves your marzipan and your rasberry macarons, just bring her some of thoses and some plain vanilla cake with lemon frosting for the rest of us. Sometimes I think you should of became a pastry chef rather than a nato agent." Berry said poking my forehead.

"Okay Berry, oh and Captain wants to talk to you. I hate to do this but can I ask you a favor?" I sighed.

"T your like a family to me, whatever you need just ask." he said.

I chuckled, "Once he is done talking with you, can you make sure he goes home? I know he is over working him self again. Hell he didn't even come home last night."

"I'll make sure he does. You're an amazing wife T." Barry smiled and went to his desk.

"Excuse me, Is this the S.T.A.R.S office?" a lady asked walking into the room.

"Ahhh you must be Jill, I'm Tabitha." I walked up to her and offered my hand out to her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm looking for Captain Wesker, is he around?" She smiled shaking my hand as Berry went into his office.

"Captain is currently in a meeting. Please don't worry, he assigned me to be your partner during your S.T.A.R.S. training." I said smiling.

"I'm just not sure if I belong here though. I went in to the military hoping to change lives."  she said her smile slightly dropping.

I look her straight in the eyes, "Our jobs are to solve the dangerous crimes and rescue people of Raccon City. This city doesn't have a S.W.A.T team. We act as the counter balance to the rising threat to the area. Be it terrorists, the mob, or even serial killers, we will be there to make a brighter future for everyone. So what do you say partner?"

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

end of flash back

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

"Remember what I said back when you joined S.T.A.R.S. I still mean it. I'm going to make the future brighter for everyone. I'm going to play this game that Spencer started to end the world. I'm going to break it down Weskers world and end the last of umbrellas monsters." I stood firm and sighed "If I go to jail after this then so be it. If I die at the end of my mission, then so be it. Either way, then the last and one of the most dangerous monsters Umbrella would be unable to harm anyone any more." I sobbed silently.

"T, you should of told someone." she sighed hugging me, "This is not something to do alone. I know Chris wouldn't approve of this. you always preached the importance of partnership. Unfortunatly that can't be me now, he has me under his control. You are like an elder sister to me. You should of left this game after the T Abyss incident. Hell you should of left after we pulled your comatose body out of the Russia. You're going to get yourself killed at this rate. You can't change your life or anyone elses if you are dead and in the ground.".

I sighed rolling my neck relaxing, "I'll keep you updated when I can Jill. I've been here a good while, I can't risk being figured out." I walked towards the door stopping before opening the door, "One last thing Jill.".

"Yes T." she looked at me as she was laying down.

"Thank you Jill, for trusting your old partner one last time." I smiled and left.

[sizzleissues]

A couple years back there was an interview on the radio.

It was an owner of a vape shop where his insisted his primary customers were smokers trying to quit. He proclaimed how he worked with his customers to lower the nicotine intake each time they came in and how vapes were incredibly important for people quitting smoking. I don’t know if this is true but it was the point of the interview, that vapes were different from smoking and were sold for ‘good’ reasons.

The radio host pointed out the rising number of young people vaping. That people who had never smoked were taking up vaping instead due to its cleaner image and vapes still contain nicotine, an addictive substance.

The shop owner insisted he never sold to minors. He could tell by a look if the customer was a smoker or someone there just to vape. There wasn’t actually any legislation in the Ireland to prevent the selling to minors at the time (it’s being approved now) but it was fairly common for people to refuse sale. However it still meant there were shops kids could buy vapes, technically.

The radio host once again pointed to the age old story of older siblings buying younger siblings illegal substances. Or an old friend using their new privilege to get the entire group alcohol or vapes. And that you couldn’t prove anything about a customer, that he likely did sell to non-smokers and people who intended to allow minors to vape.

He continued to deny that possibility until the interviews end. Vapes weren’t new but barely any information about health affect's had come out. There was just a big scary ‘what if’ and the general idea under 18s shouldn’t be addicted to nicotine. Adults could do whatever they wanted.

So I watched people I knew to be intelligent take up vaping. It was incorporated into youth culture. You can’t tell them they should quit, for one it can be rude and for two, there isn’t any research or resources to point to easily. Smoking has its host of ‘if you smoke- you will die’ adverts and there’s large campaign in Ireland to end smoking. Smoking numbers have been decreasing among the population and we’ll get even more info on it now that a question about smoking practices is in the census. Vaping however has been rising. In 2019, 39% of teenagers had tried vaping, in comparison to 32% trying smoking. Source Most reported it was out of curiosity or from friends. Only 3% took it up to quit smoking.

These numbers having been increasing across the entire population but its still very low, with teenage to young adult boys being more at risk.

All that said is to point out its prevalence. I know kids who can’t sit through a class without vaping, or cloud up bathroom stalls every day. People who get a look in their eyes and then excuse themselves, like the look I saw on my smoking relatives. You get to horror stories of 17 year old kids being admitted to hospital with lung problems. For the most part smokers know the harm their habit causes, it’s not out of ignorance so they avoid people when they smoke so that people can avoid second hand smoke. Vapers don’t. They will vape in your face, because ‘its smells good though’. (Don’t get me started on how predatory the different refill smells can be. You’re marketing to children just admit it). They will take it up more easily to fit in with a peer group. When told the negative side effects we’re starting to see, they’re like ‘oh well, i didn’t know that but it’s too late to quit now’. We don’t campaign to vapers to quit because like the shop owner believed, vapers are smokers trying to quit and we can’t tell quitters to quit quitting. Luckily we are seeing data to prove more and more people are taking up vaping first, not smoking.

I know I sound like your mom but you kids need to stop fucking vaping

[petri808]

Hi!!! If you"re still taking in requests could you do "enemies to lovers kissing for the first time, and it’s a tender kiss" from the prompt list pretty pls☺

Nalu modern world Yakuza AU. okay it really got away from me. 8K+words.

My name is Lucy Heartfilia, an undercover agent for the major crime’s unit in the Tokyo police department. The date is August 9th, 2025, and long-term operation Tame the Dragon has commenced. Code name Starla Nakasone, my mission is to infiltrate the Dragneel Yakuza organization and gather intelligence to bring it down. This is a deep undercover mission to minimize any danger to me from the gang discovering my true identity. 

An informant has brought me into the gang as a money counter. It’s a low-level position, but at least it gets me in the door. We’ve had very little verified intelligence make it out of this organization. The gangs current head, Natsu Dragneel is the son of the gang’s progenitor, Igneel Dragneel. Everyone in the higher ranks is closely tied and tight lipped about the operations. Generals report to lieutenants, while lower-level members are handled by a general in charge of a specific division. Each level is on a need-to-know basis. 

What we are sure of, is this Yakuza outfit has their hands in geisha houses, high end drug procurement, protection rackets, and money laundering. However, what we don’t know is just how they’ve been able to stay out of law enforcements hands for decades. There are unsubstantiated rumors. Some saying the gang is ruthless which keeps information from spilling, and others that refute the suggestion. Regardless, as far as I’m concerned, illegal is illegal and it’s my job to bring them down.

The location I’ve been sent to looks like any old four-story professional building in Otemachi district bordering the business sector of Marunouchi. Otemachi is the oldest section of Tokyo dating back to the Edoperiod, and while in modern times has become a hub of journalism’s biggest players, old daimyo families may still control areas. That’s what I suspect of the Dragneel lineage. 

“Hi,” I walk into the front door of a gentleman’s club and see a woman fussing behind a bar counter. The place doesn’t open until later in the evening, so I assume she’s not a normal staff member. “Are you Cana Alberona?”

The woman steps out. “Yeah, and you are?”

“Starla, the new counter.”

“Oh, right! I was told you’d be starting today. Follow me,” she motions.

As we continue through the first floor of the building, Cana gives me a tour, so I don’t get lost. The gentleman’s club on this floor looks like it caters to a very high-end clientele. She explains that many legitimate business professionals use the private rooms for meetings with geisha assigned to service them. All look, no touch. The top floor is where the head lives while in town, and the two floors in the middle are for operations. How accurate her descriptions are is yet to be deciphered? 

“This is where you’ll be working,” she guides me downstairs to the basement level. 

From what I can see, there is a vault connected to a secure room filled with desks and tables, counting machines, bank bags, and other tools necessary to process and launder the gang’s physical cash. There’s a guard posted outside of the vault. She then introduces me to the other counter I’ll be working with, a female named Levy McGarden. 

“Levy will train you on what to do in here, but if you have any other questions, you come and ask me.”

“Okay.”

“You know,” Cana looks me up and down. “If you want to make a little more money, you could train for the geisha room. You got the looks for it.”

“No, thank you.” I blush at the suggestion. “I’m too shy for something like that.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Once Cana leaves us alone, Levy sets me up at my new workstation and begins to go over all the rules and what my job description entails. Frankly, it’s a simple job anyone could do. The machine does most of the work for us, so we just wrap, secure, and pack the money to be moved out in the next step. Levy and I are scheduled during the day and there are two more at night for now, but that could always change. 

“You’ll be fine if you keep your mouth shut about what you see here. They take really good care of employees. The girl you’re replacing got pregnant and they let her go with a monetary gift for the baby.”

“Got it. So, Cana is our boss, right?”

“Cana is the General in charge of this floor. She manages the club and oversees us counters.” 

That’s two unexpected pieces of information. First off, a female General in a Yakuza organization is unheard of! A madam yes, but not with actual rank. And I’ve never heard of a gang taking care of a lower-level employee. “Sounds like a great place to work,” I respond with a smile.

It’s of no surprise that as the newbie I would be given the grunt work the other counter doesn’t want to do. Grab them lunch. Move this here. Carry this there. Run this upstairs. That’s fine with me! Makes it all the easier to spy. 

So far, I’ve learned that each floor has a guard posted at the elevator and stairwell. Haven’t seen any lieutenants yet but did meet the saiko komon head of administration because of all the paperwork I’ve delivered. All my deliveries are to the second floor, so I surmise the third is where the heads are located. It’s finally after two months do I get my opportunity to see it. There’s a meeting with all the generals and lieutenants, and I’ve been sent to pick up their lunch. 

As I struggle with a heavy box full of expensive bento boxes, I can’t help but to bitch under my breath about it. How’d they expect me to carry this thing?! I can barely see over it, but at least the guards take pity on me and push the elevator button… gee, thanks. Okay, two dings mean I’m at the third floor, so as soon as the door opens, I take a step out and bump into something. 

“Hey!”

Eek! Or someone! 

“I’m so sorry, I can’t see where I’m going.”

I feel the box suddenly being lifted out of my arms. Oh great, am I in trouble?! 

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m here to deliver—”

A chuckle erupts, cutting me off, and as the box moves to the side, I can see who I’ve bumped into. 

I bow my head low, assuming this must be a general or something and I don’t want to appear rude. “This is the lunch for the meeting.”

“And who are you?” The man questions while tipping my head up to get a look at me. “I think I’d remember meeting a gorgeous girl like you before.”

My cheeks flare with heat from such an unexpected comment. “I-I’m Starla, the new counter downstairs.” I explain. 

The man shifts the box to his shoulder as if it weighs nothings, then prompts me to follow him down a corridor. 

“Sir, s-shouldn’t I go back to my work?” But he doesn’t respond so I continue to follow orders. 

Once we reach one of the rooms, he opens the door, then puts his free arm around my shoulder and pushes me through. I can immediately see this must be the meeting and all these people are the heads of the organization! My eyes grow wide with concern, should I really be seeing this so soon?! I see Cana who also seems shocked to see me. I try to reverse, but his grip around my shoulder only tightens. So, I bow my head and pretend not to see anything. 

“Hey Alberona, why didn’t you tell you hired a fox as a counter?” The man demanded an answer. 

“Since when do you care about my girls,” Cana retorts. “And why is she here?” She crosses her arms in annoyance. “Her job was to bring lunch, not hand it off to the oyabun of all people.”

He’s the boss! This is Natsu Dragneel! I shrink back even more, but he doesn’t let me leave. Just great! This whole operation is in jeopardy because of a lunch delivery. 

“Calm your tits Alberona,” Natsu drops the box on the table. “I can do as I please.” 

“Sir, may I please go back to work now?” I ask meekly, head still bowed low.

“Huh? Oh, gimme a sec.” Natsu states. “Just stand right here.” He orders as he lets go of my shoulder. 

Leaving me standing at the door, I watch through my peripheral and listen as the lunches are passed around the room. It’s a bit surprising to me that they are talking as if I’m not there, but I assume that they assume I’ll keep my mouth shut. After several minutes pass, I hear Natsu instruct them to continue the meeting, then comes back to me and grabs my arm gently. 

“I’ll escort you back downstairs,” Natsu explains. 

Why is the boss escorting me?! I nod silently and allow him to prompt me into the elevator. 

“So, Starla, right?” Natsu questions as we walk back to the vault. “Go out to dinner with me.”

What?! I hold my composure. “I can’t do that.”

“Are you really turning me down?!” Natsu sounds annoyed yet intrigued as if no one’s ever turned him down. “Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

Inside I’m panicking, but outwardly I’m trying to keep it cool for the mission. It’s a bold move to turn him down, but his request makes my skin crawl. “No, but surely you have many women to choose from and I’m not interested in a player.” 

Natsu grabs his chest in a feigned heart attack. “Of all my enemies, your words are the most lethal.”

Oh, good grief, I wanna roll my eyes. “I just take my job seriously, sir.”

“Stop calling me sir, just call me Natsu. Formalities are boring.” He moves closer and places his hand on my cheek, skimming down to my chin. “But fine, it’s not like I give up easily.” His face moves next to mine, and I hear him whisper. “Challenge accepted.”

Guys are so easy to manipulate, I snicker to myself. I’d not intended to cozy up to the boss like this, but no point in not taking advantage of a situation. As I sit back down at my desk, Levy scurries over. 

“What was that all about?” Levy questions with a glint in her eye. “Natsu rarely comes down here, and moreover I’ve never seen him flirt with anyone either.”

Wait, never? “We bumped into each other upstairs and I um, turned his dinner request down.”

Levy starts giggling. “You’ve got some balls on you.” 

She stands up straight ready to return to her own desk before I stop her. “You said you’ve never seen him flirting before?”

“Nope. Why?”

“Well, I just assumed that… because he was so quick to spit out lines, he was a player.”

That sends Levy into a total laughing fit. “Natsu?!” So much so, she wraps her arms around her stomach from laughing too hard. “The boss is no player! In fact, his dad is always on his case about finding a wife, but he’s never interested in anyone.”

“Wow, you know his dad?”

“Yeah,” Levy finally sits back at her desk as she calms down. “My dad worked under Igneel, that’s how I ended up here too.” She smiles. “We’re all family in a way.”

This is even more unexpected information I’m left to ponder. As far as the gangs’ illegal activities go, the information is checking out. What’s not, is the intelligence on the members themselves. Is it all a ruse or for real? A boss who doesn’t have that air about him. Family? I’ll just need to keep my eyes open. 

True to his word, Natsu is one stubborn guy. Day after day, week after week with no fail he tries. It’s like watching a puppy crying for attention. Once the words fail, he tries flowers. When flowers fail, he tries gifts. But I can’t lie that it isn’t slowly breaking me down. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone try so hard before. So finally, after 2 months of this, I relent and agree to dinner. 

The restaurant he takes me to is quite fancy, with a French/Japanese fusion type menu. “You really know how to show a girl a good time,” I comment as he holds the chair out for me, “and such a gentleman.”

“Well, considering how much effort it took to get you here, I’m glad you’re at least amused,” Natsu chuckles as he takes his seat. “And if you’re wondering, no I’ve never brought any other women here.”

I was a bit stunned by his statement and couldn’t stop a slight frown forming. “Why would you mention that?”

“No reason, other than you’ve accused me before of having many women to choose from and I assure you, I don’t.”

“Alright,” I cross my arms, “I’ll admit little birds have confirmed you’re no player.”

Natsu’s eyes flash excitedly, “is that why you finally agreed to dinner??”

“Maybe…” I coyly look up. When I see the giddy expression on Natsu’s face it takes all my willpower not to laugh. Who’d have thought it would be this easy to infiltrate such a feared yakuza house! “But easy, big boy,” I check his enthusiasm. “This is just a date.”

“I’ll take it as a win,” Natsu grins and leans back full of pride. 

Throughout dinner the conversations stay casual, and anytime Natsu tries to pry deeper into my life I pull him back. I can tell it’s frustrating for him, but he keeps his cool, nonetheless. The food is excellent, I must say and the dessert divine! So, this date has its perks after all. 

When Natsu’s personal driver pulls up to the sidewalk fronting the restaurant, we get into the back seat of the Infiniti QX60 red sports car. I don’t think I’ve been in such a luxurious vehicle before with heated leather seating. It’s a beautiful car. Natsu instructs the driver to take me home… well, the home I’m using for this operation. I wasn’t about to let them know what my true address is. The department has set me up in a tiny apartment approximately three blocks away from the Yakuza’s head office. Which was nice because I could just walk to work. 

“I have one more thing to ask,” Natsu turns to me and takes my hands before I can pull them away. “Be my personal assistant.”

“What? Why?” I question the surprising request.  

“Why else,” he grins, “but to keep you close so I can win your heart!”

Oh, Kami! But I play it cool considering this will give me access to his entire organization! “I don’t know…” I shy away. “That’s a big leap from just counting money. What if I don’t have the experience to do office work?”

“Pfft. I bet you’ll do fine.”

This is Lucy Heartfilia, undercover agent for the major crime’s unit in the Tokyo police department report notes. The date is November 20th, 2025, and operation Tame the Dragon is going smoothly. In just four months I’ve managed to move from a bottom level position to the personal assistant of the boss, Natsu Dragneel himself. It turns out my lady wiles work better than I’d anticipated on him. 

So far, our intelligence regarding this organizations illegal dealings are accurate except for the geisha house which is a legitimate gentleman’s club for high-level clientele. As his personal assistant I will now be able to gather even more details, hopefully the proof we need to shut it down. However, as for the membership, they are rather odd compared to other Yakuza organizations, or even their organizations past under the old boss. I suspect this in part due to the younger generation’s ideas. Perhaps they are not as fond of violence anymore? I must note that they treat me very well here… better than my colleagues back at headquarters…

I wrap Levy in a big hug, “I’m gonna miss having you around to talk to.”

“Me too,” Levy squeezes back before letting go. “But at least we’re still in the same building, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other.”

“I hope so.”

“Don’t worry, Lu, I’m sure Natsu won’t mind if you drop by the vault to chat.” Levy grins, “I bet you’ll have him wrapped around your finger in no time.”

If only she knew… “Yeah,” I chuckle. 

Truth is, Natsu has no idea what to do with me. His plan to make me his personal assistant is something he probably made up on the fly. Because as I sit here on his couch with nothing to do, I almost wish I could go back to the vault. I must say it’s a nice living space with a mostly open floor studio plan. It has all the amenities, kitchen, living area, bedroom, even a small outdoor patio with a high wall for privacy. This is not Natsu’s primary residence, just his home slash office in the city. According to him, he has a large home tucked along the forest in Ibaraki outside of Tokyo. But I still haven’t learned exactly where. 

But now I’m on the third floor! Yay me! And have access to all the floors without question. That’s a big step in this mission! I figure even if he doesn’t give me work to do, there’s things I can help with. Maybe running papers, and such. So, when Natsu’s busy or not around, I ask the others if they need help with anything. His lieutenants Gray Fullbuster and Gajeel Redfox are weary of me, as they should be, but they don’t have a choice. As for the Generals, Cana seems fine with me, a guy named Jellal Fernandez I think is okay with me, but another female General named Erza Scarlet is still weary of me. I have a feeling they give me things to do to watch me, so I need to be careful. 

The stereotypes I hate being labeled with have become my best weapon. I still despise having to use it but, a young, somewhat spacey, and friendly woman coupled with my looks work well to allay suspicions. All the psychological training from the behavioral unit helps too. Remember to act like a ditz but not be a ditz. Be smart enough to do simple tasks, yet when pressed to think outside of the box— struggle. Prefer direction and be useful, but not overly ambitious least you raise eyebrows or garner too much attention. 

And I don’t need more attention. Trust me, an unknown woman suddenly at the side of a Yakuza boss makes for a lot of gossip. 

So, for the next few months we dance this dance. I let Natsu get close enough to gain his trust, but never allow him to push it past the professional. It drives him crazy and keeps him wanting more. Men sure love to want what they can’t have. 

Each day I secret away more info into a log back at my apartment… in code of course, and in a language very few people use anymore so not even my superiors could read it. That’s my own failsafe to keep my colleagues from taking away my credit. They could find a linguist, sure, but there’s not many who can read Runes. Why can I write in Runes? Well, when you’re a typical high school student who likes to share notes with your friends that the teacher can’t read… you find a way.

I’m starting to put more names to dealings now. There are a handful of lower to mid-level dealers pushing product for the gang, but surprisingly most of the drugs are being funneled to a level of society one wouldn’t guess. The geisha house is a legit business, but illegal drug use is common, and deals are made in those private rooms between the sushi and the sake. Turns out the high-stakes world of business wheeling and dealing sometimes requires an upper to keep going. This explains why such little information is leaked. Too much is at stake to lose on all sides.  

Then there is the money laundering. Many of the same business executives who buy designer drugs, also have side deals to funnel money around with the yakuza’s help. Pfft, no wonder the rich tend to stay rich. But again, there’s a lot at stake for both sides with more incentive to keep their mouths shut. This way everyone is happy. And since Japanese people are known for holding things close to the chest, breaking them is that much more difficult. I sigh, nine months in with a lot of info, but still no way to use it. One thing that makes me happy is one of the rumors about the gang being vicious hasn’t bore fruit. It’s just… I’m struggling to envision that kind of behavior from all the members I’ve met so far.

My name is Lucy Heartfilia, undercover agent for the major crime’s unit in the Tokyo police department reporting. The date is April 21st, 2026, and operation Tame the Dragon continues. 

By my insistence, aka threatening to quit, Natsu came up with a better routine of my job duties. When he is in his own office, I’m required to be at his side. I answer phones, take his messages, type things up for him— typical secretary type duties. He stays in the city through the week and goes back to his actual home on the weekends, only sticking around if there are issues to deal with. I always try to beat him to the office on Mondays, and he always drags me out for breakfast— not that I’m complaining. If there’s another perk of note in this job, it’s not having to work weekends anymore! Besides… I’ve come to enjoy these times with him, just the two of us away from the office acting like normal people. The conversations are pleasant and Natsu’s really good at making me laugh. 

At the end of a particularly rough day, I walk in to find Natsu sitting on his couch with his head down, rubbing his temples. I walk over quietly and start massaging his shoulders because he looks as tense as a stretched rubber band. 

“Thank you,” he groans through the pressured kneading. “I really needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” I respond softly. When I see Natsu so stressed, my instincts to comfort him have increased too. It pulls at my heartstrings…

“Perhaps a nice hot furo bath would be soothing?” I suggest.

Natsu grins to himself. “Maybe if you join me,” he teases. 

And there went the moment. “Nice try.”

“It was worth a shot.” He cranes his neck up to look at me. “How about an onsen? Hmm, I promise I’ll behave! You can even wear a bikini if you want, but it’s just nicer with company.”

“But there’s no onsens around here.”

Hope flashes in Natsu’s eyes. “Is that a maybe?”

“Maybe,” I state with a chuckle, “but only because it’s been for-ever since I’ve been to one.”

“I’ll take it!” Natsu suddenly jumps up excitedly. “Go home and pack a bag, we’re leaving for an early weekend.”

“W-Wait, I never said for a whole weekend— and it’s still Tuesday!” 

“Too, bad, you didn’t set terms,” Natsu grins. “I’ll pick you up at home in an hour.”

Oh, Kami! I groan internally. “Alright, you win.”

Located just over two-hours away by car, Chikurinan Mizuno hotel in the town of Atami in Shizuokaprefecture south of Tokyo is a very exclusive onsen hotel. Its prices are not for the feint of hearts. With only 14 rooms with private, open-air onsens, reservations can take months to get into to— but not when you have a little more money to throw around… like an Oyabun. 

“Oh…” I gasp as I walk into the room, “this place is so beautiful!” It certainly is worth the cost. “It’s got a view of the lake too!” But as I scan the room, I’m reminded that these are meant for couples. A heated shiver runs through my body at the prospect of sharing a bed. 

Seeing me shudder, Natsu steps closer. “I love coming here for peace and quiet,” he explains, “and don’t worry, I’ll order a spare futon bed to be brought in.” 

“I appreciate it,” I blush at how considerate he is being. For all the times Natsu’s flirted with me, the truth is, he’s never been pushy or made me feel uncomfortable… unlike most of the men I’ve dealt with in the past. Its— refreshing and maybe a bit alluring. “But I trust you,” I smile sweetly. “It wouldn’t be right to make you sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?” Natsu’s voice lowers, almost sensually, gravelly. “You’ve got my heart in your hands, Starla, so the last thing I’d want is to push you away even by accident.”

My breathing falters, Kami no… and my whole body heats up in reaction to his voice. I quickly turn away to hide the building turmoil and revert to personal assistant mode. “Mmhmm. I’m sure. S-So, should we have dinner first since it’s about that time?”

With a soft sigh, Natsu’s regular smile returns. “Sure, I’ll have the driver bring the car around.”

As a shoreline town, most of the restaurants feature local fresh seafood on their menus. We eat at a place called Misato where I chose a chirashi bowl and Natsu ate miso butterfish. It was about 8pm when we returned to the hotel. We take turns bathing ourselves, before slipping into our private onsen. First Natsu, then me, where I surprise even myself by sticking with a traditional onsen attire. 

Natsu looks up when he hears my footsteps, and I see him suck in a breath the moment he lays eyes upon me. “I know,” I avert mine, “I went with the towel after all. If it makes you too uncomfortable, I could wear my bikini instead.”

“N-No, I’m not complaining,” his words stumble out. His face is red and flushed from the heat of the water and his heart. “Just surprised.” 

“O-Okay.” I take a seat next to him, a foot away, facing the ocean, and fully submerge my body up to my shoulders. “The temperature is perfect!” I smile. “Are you feeling more relaxed now?”

“I felt relaxed the moment you left your apartment to join me,” he answers. 

I turn to respond, but see he’s closed his eyes and tilted his head back to enjoy the water. I smile to myself. Alright, I’ll let him have that one.

We spent the next three days at the hotel playing tourist and I think this is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Natsu in the whole time I’ve known him. From walking along the beach chatting, to stargazing from our patio, and just enjoying the crisp salty air, it was enough to make me forget what I’m there to do. And in the moment, I don’t care. Because when Natsu starts asking personal questions again, he’s surprised when I answer. 

I figure why not at this point to use some truth to sell this fake identity. I’m an only child who lost her mom at age 4 to cancer, and not very close to my father ever since. I enjoy writing stories as a hobby and was born outside of Tokyo in Kanagawa. Plus, the truth is easier to remember than a lie.

On Friday, we check out of the hotel and go to Natsu’s house near Ibaraki. It’s one thing to stay at a hotel, and another to be in a private residence but he insisted on showing me his home. Although when we arrived, he was suddenly nervous. The first thing he did is show me to my own bedroom for the weekend and… okay maybe I’m a little sad to be alone again. NOTHING HAPPENED at the hotel! I just— Natsu was right about things being better with company. 

“Aww, who’s this?” I ask about the cat doing figure 8’s around my legs. 

Natsu picks up the cat to scratch his head. “This is Happy. I think he likes you, ‘cause he doesn’t go up to new people so quickly.”

I move closer to pet him and tease. “You keep saying I’m special, guess he thinks so too.” 

That makes Natsu choke on his saliva and quickly put Happy down. “So, um, so you don’t freak out, there’s a chef that comes to cook dinner, and a maid that’s here in the mornings. I’ve got some work to do in my studio, but you’re free to wander around in the meantime.”

“I think I will, thank you.” 

And I do because I’m absolutely in love with this house! I’d expected Natsu to have a more modern home, and while it has some modern features, this is a gorgeous minka style house! Complete with the tatamifloors, shoji and fusuma sliding doors, and an engawa hallway that opens into a veranda leading to a Zen Garden. I take my time going through each room, mesmerized by all the little hidden gems. There are no modern beds, only a futon that’s stored in tansu cabinets. The bedrooms each have modern kotatsu’s, but in the dining room— I gasp. “This is a real kotatsu!” Inset into the ground! I pull up the table blanket and sure enough you can sit with your legs hanging down! I notice there’s an electric heater, but it’s still so cool! I’ve only heard about these, never saw one for real! 

“Are you okay, Starla?” I hear Natsu call from his studio office. “What’s the squealing about?”

“Sorry,” I answer back. “I’m just in awe of this house!” 

I hear him chuckle as I move on to the veranda. Natsu must pay a lot for someone to maintain this garden. Zen gardens are beautiful but not easy to keep up. I sit down on the steps of the veranda and just soak it all in. The air in the forest is clear and smells amazing compared to the city. I sigh, propping my head up with my elbows. Natsu’s so lucky.

An hour or so passes when Natsu finds me still sitting on the veranda. He sits down next to me. “Enjoying yourself?” He questions. 

I take in another deep breath. “Yes, thank you. You have a lovely home.”

Natsu looks up as if in thought, “I did a lot of the renovations myself,” he smiles before returning his softened attention back on me. “Turns out hammering things is a good therapy technique.”

That makes me giggle. “I’d bet, with your line of work.” 

“My dad didn’t understand why I’d pick a place so far away, but there was a time when I just needed to get away… you know?”

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t always accept my fate…” Natsu continues. “Didn’t want to step into my father’s shoes.” He glances briefly at me. “Would you believe I’m not even his real son?”

That caught me off guard. “I had no idea.” 

“Igneel couldn’t have children, so he adopted the child of his favorite mistress. Me.” Natsu chuckles a sigh, “I don’t fault him anymore for his many indiscretions, but I could never do some of the things he did. It’s probably why I avoid relationships and…” he stands up suddenly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with this stuff.” Then he turns to leave. “The chef should have dinner ready soon.” 

I quickly grab his hand to stop him. “I don’t mind. I’m… honored that you’d be so open with me.” Part of me assumed he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, but to find out… I wouldn’t wish that birth story on anyone.

“Thank you, Starla.”

Our eyes meet and seconds slip by as we hold each other’s gaze with an intensity that takes my breath away. I tighten my grip around his wrist. “Stay,” my eyes plead, “please, just a little longer.”

He simply nods and acquiesces to my desire. Once he plops down beside me, I scoot closer and lean my head against his shoulder. I hear him suck in a breath, questioningly, so I let out a dreamy sigh. “This is nice…”

It’s been three months since our staycation to the onsen, and during this time our working relationship has grown. I’ve visited his home a couple more times just for the weekend, and truly enjoyed the time we spent together. It’s strange how close I’m feeling to Natsu, just part of the family as Levy calls it. Almost like I’ve known him all my life, not just a year. This is dangerous territory for me, and I’m not sure just how much more of this mission my heart can take…

“Starla,” Natsu calls out as he enters his living room. “Are you here?”

“I’m in the kitchen.” I walk out. “Just finishing breakfast.” I smile. “How was your drive into town this morning?”

“Couldn’t get here soon enough,” he smiles back. 

I laugh, “why? Was there traffic?”

Natsu walks over to me and places his hand on my head. “Because I missed you.”

Oh, my Kami! I duck out from under his hand and step a couple feet away. “You’re too much!” I laugh sweetly and cross my arms. It’s time to change this conversation, so in a teasing tone. “So, what’s on the agenda today, boss?” 

Natsu frowns and his tone drops. “I really hate it when you call me that.”

My body instantly stiffens, and for the first time, I felt a little nervous. Of course, I’ve seen Natsu upset before when something goes wrong. Maybe a drug courier gets picked up or a business is refusing to pay protection money. But it’s never directed at me. Have I read the signs wrong? Is he having a bad day? Maybe I’ve been getting too comfortable here and forgot who I’m talking to. Better fix this quick!

I look down and my shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, Natsu. I won’t do it again.” 

Natsu sighs and walks up to me, reaching out like he’s going to touch my shoulder. But I’m genuinely a bit fearful, causing me to flinch. This causes Natsu to immediately retract and soften his expression. 

“No, I’m the one sorry Starla, I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.” Natsu apologies. “But please, I really don’t like it. Everyone else calls me that, but not you, okay?”

I nod my head without looking up. “Okay.”

“Hey,” Natsu tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “You’re very precious to me. I’d never want to hurt you.”

As he gazes so intently with those onyx eyes of his, my breathing falters and for a second there the world stops. A light gasp leaves my lips while a grin forms on his. 

He immediately let’s go of my chin and starts talking as if nothing just happened. Excuse me? Natsu just walks to the couch and sits down casually with one arm on the back of the sofa and leg crossed above his knee. “As to your question, the agenda today is to find you a dress to wear.” 

“Um, what?” I snap back into the present and turn to face him. “A dress?”

“Exactly. A dress,” Natsu nods and motions for me to sit beside him. “I must attend a party tonight, lots of business types, frankly boring but it’s a formality I go. And you’ll be accompanying me,” he grins, then laughs. “They’ll be shocked to see a woman on my arm.” Natsu taps his chin, “yeah, I don’t think I’ve taken anyone before.”

I turn to him ready to disagree. “B-but, wouldn’t one of your generals, Erza or Cana for protection make more sense?”

“Oh, guards will be around, don’t worry. And I don’t expect you to do anything but have fun.” Natsu grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. “My driver is waiting downstairs, to take us shopping.” 

As we pile into the back seat of the car, and Natsu directs the driver where to go first, all I can do is sit there in shock. I should be happy that I’m so close to a Yakuza boss, but I’m not… not anymore. I start to panic inside, getting close to Natsu was a bad idea. This is going way further than it should be! These five months under Natsu is causing me to lose my focus. The slip up with the name makes that evident and my own emotions are betraying me! 

“Do you like it?” Natsu questions. “You look beautiful in it.”

The dress is indeed a gorgeous crimson corset sweetheart top on a fitted floor length skirt, with a slit along the side up to my thigh. It frames my body so well, hugging to my curves, holding up the girls, but… “I don’t know, it’s quite pricey… Natsu I’m just a nobody to be wearing such fineries.”

Natsu stood up from the dressing bench and firmly cups my cheeks. He looks dead straight at me. “Whoever told you you’re a nobody deserves to die.”

Why are his eyes so piercing! My breath hitches again, just like before, his eyes fixing me in place and making me feel… I feel something… as he leans in my brain is shorting out, or am I leaning forward? The closer his face becomes… I pull my head away at the last second and I can almost feel Natsu’s deflation. It feels like a dagger to my soul— but the mission, remember Lucy! You can’t fall! “You’re too sweet to me,” I whisper in a lighthearted tone. “Thank you. If you think I look pretty in this, then I’ll wear it for you,” I smile genuinely. 

After gathering his composure, Natsu smiles. “Then on to the next stop.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stood in front of the Midtown Towers, one of the tallest and most luxurious buildings in Tokyo. The party is in the Ritz-Carlton’s Grand Ballroom, and Natsu wasn’t kidding when he said high-end. He himself wore a tailored black suit and slacks with a red button-down shirt that matches my dress. Now the dress and total styling is starting to make sense if the other guests I’m seeing is any clue, and if the ballroom were any glitzier, I’d need sunglasses! I weave my arm through the crook of his right elbow, and we step over the threshold.

But, as we walk into the room and immediately, I see so many other gorgeous women… heads turning in our direction, and I suddenly start to feel self-conscious. Unconsciously, I shrink against Natsu. I’m not afraid of what they think about me. I’m just not liking how they’re looking at him— I mean us! Us! They must know who he is, but I wasn’t ready for all the stares. 

“Are you alright?” Natsu asks in concern. 

“Mmhmm, just… overwhelmed, I guess. I’ve never been to anything like this before.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “just stick by my side and you’ll be alright.”

So, I keep my arm weaved through his, but place my hand on his bicep for extra measure. It must’ve made Natsu feel good because his chest puffs out, preening with pride… I must say, it made me feel a little better to invoke such a response. 

We grab drinks at the bar and slowly make our way around the room, stopping every so often to say hi or chat with someone. For the most part, I simply stand there and smile because I have no idea what to say to these people. But Natsu is in his element and knew many in the room. He whispers names of guests to me. Most I don’t recognize, while others I’ve heard of because of who they were. These are presidents of companies, CEO’s, CFOs, and other high-ranking individuals. I even notice a few politicians in the room. I’m starting to truly understand the status Natsu holds. He’s not just a Yakuza boss, and his connections run all the way to the top! I don’t think headquarters realizes who we’re dealing with. 

“Mr. Dragneel! I’m so glad you could make it!” 

“I’m honored to be here, Mr. Kazuma.”

The two men tip their heads in a casual bow. 

“And who is this beauty on your arm?” Kazuma asks politely of Natsu, though his eyes are guilty of perversion. 

“This is Ms. Nakasone, my close associate,” Natsu responds with a fanged smile. “Starla, this is Hideo Kazuma, CFO of Shibata corp.”

“Nice to meet you Ms. Nakasone. You’re a lucky man Dragneel. I wouldn’t let this one get away.” Kazuma teases. 

“I have no plans to,” Natsu states with affirmation. 

Another guest walks up. A woman this time. 

“Ah, Ms. Miyose,” Kazuma welcomes the woman. “You remember Mr. Dragneel?” 

The woman gives Natsu a blatant once over from head to toe. “How could I forget,” she smiles sweetly. 

It takes all my willpower not to slap her. I squeeze his arm unconsciously out of anger and lean even closer against his side. Sensing my irritation, Natsu smoothly slips his arm around my waist and holds tight. 

“And this is his date, Ms. Nakasone,” Kazuma explains. 

The woman smirks. “An escort?” 

Oh, that’s it! I start to pull away from Natsu. “I am not an—”

Angry of his own accord, Natsu immediately wraps both his arms around my waist to keep me from lunging. “Choose your words wisely woman if you value your life and company.” His terse tone is seething with venom. “Kazuma, I suggest you get your employee in control before I pull our support. And you know what’ll happen if I do.” 

Fearful, “My apologies,” Kazuma bows low, then immediately pulls the other woman away. Lighthearted jests are the norm for men in power, but that line is a tightrope to walk. 

This is another reminder of just who Natsu is that he can scare the CFO of a major company. I can see Kazuma berating the woman even from a distance. But I don’t care because I’m still fuming! First, she eyeballs Natsu like a piece of candy she’d like to eat, then slings such a nasty label at me! If he hadn’t been holding me back, my police training would’ve come out and she’d be out cold on the floor! I’m so pissed, I don’t even notice the way Natsu’s holding me from behind.

Natsu places his chin on my shoulder and squeezes my waist again. “I’m sorry about that Starla.” He tries to calm me. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“You should’ve let me hit her,” I state in a strong tone. “I can’t believe that bitch was checking you out right in front of me! What the hell is her problem?!”

He laughs and spins me around. “Why Ms. Nakasone, is that jealousy I detect?” 

“What?! N-No! I—” I grab his hand and start pulling him towards the exit. “I need air. I need to think.” 

My heart is beating a mile a minute and I feel like I’m losing control. Everything I’ve been working for is… is… My name is Lucy Heartfilia! I’m an undercover agent for the major crime’s unit in the Tokyo police department sent to infiltrate and take down the Dragneel Yakuza organization! I wasn’t supposed to fall… 

As soon as we get out into the hallway, I head straight for the elevator with Natsu still in tow. Tears are filling my eyes, I can’t breathe, my head is spinning, and I-I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m a police officer! Natsu is my enemy! What am I doing?! 

“Starla?!” Natsu finally pulls me to a stop in front of the elevator. “What’s wrong?” 

But I just ignore Natsu and hit the button because I don’t know what to say. My feet shift from side to side while I wait, and I wipe the tears away that make it to my cheeks. When the elevator opens its thankfully empty. So, we step inside. 

“Starla, please tell me why you’re so upset! Is it the woman?”

I shake my head.

“Is it me?”

I shake my head even more vigorously. 

Natsu hits the emergency button to stop the elevator. 

“What are you doing?!” I snap. 

But he just grabs my shoulders to keep me from moving. “Tell me please! What’s wrong!” 

I look away… I can’t look him in the eyes…

So, he switches, cups my face, and repeats the question. “Tell me what’s wrong Starla so I can fix whatever it is.”

I can see moisture starting to pool in Natsu’s eyes. The pain in them… more of my own tears break free as my heart shatters. 

“I— This wasn’t supposed to happen…” I whimper. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“Like what?” 

“You. Me—” I whimper, “oh why’d you have to be a perfect guy?” 

“Starla,” Natsu soften his tone. “I’m sure whatever is wrong we can fix it.” 

I shake my head. “I doubt it.”

“It can’t be that bad—”

I look Natsu dead in the eyes. “My real name isn’t Starla, it’s Lucy… Lucy Heartfilia,” my shoulders slump, “undercover agent sent to infiltrate your organization.”

At that moment, Natsu let me go and turned away so I could no longer see what he was feeling. I see him brace himself with his forearm and his forehead against the wall. But now that I started, I might as well let everything go.

“It’s why I resisted your advances in the beginning, and tried so hard not to let you in but you…” I exhale. “You were so sweet to me, and everyone there— treats me so well. I thought getting close to you would give me an advantage.” I slump to the floor and put my hands over my face sobbing quietly. “But all it did is make me fall in love with you.” 

A few seconds of silence pass by and I’ve all but given up when I feel Natsu’s hand on my chin tipping it up. He’s kneeling in front of me with tear steaks still evident on his cheeks. 

“Did you turn in any intel about me to your bosses?”

“No… I’ve been dragging my feet in sending them my reports. They’re still back at my apartment.”

“One more question, do you mean it Star—Lucy? Did you really fall in love with me or is it just another trick?”

Instantly, tears burst out from the insinuation as I shake my head vigorously. “It’s not a trick! I swear, it’s not!” I hang my head in shame unable to look at him. “But I don’t deserve your affection, not after lying all this time.”

“That’s my decision to make,” Natsu states simply. He cups my cheeks, thumbs sweeping away the trickling tears. “And while it does hurt a little… I think… no, I know it would hurt me more to let you go now. So please stop crying,” he smiles, “I don’t like seeing you cry.”

I close my eyes as Natsu leans in, breath hitching as are lips touch for the first time. His thumbs still caress my skin, so gently as pressure is added— I melt instantly from his tender touch. A light sigh escapes me, and I feel his smile form, sending my heart soaring. Kami his lips are so soft and sweet, and filled with a heat that goes straight to my loins. These lips… I could kiss forever…

When we finally break apart, Natsu helps me to my feet and squeezes are conjoined hands. “Let’s go home,” he smiles.

I smile and squeeze his hands back. “Your home… where my heart resides.”

Overcome by my words, Natsu pulls me to his chest and swallows my lips once more, heady, so needy as if this is the first time, he’s kissed a woman. My back smacks against the wall with his hands all over me. My leg wraps around his thigh, and his hand cradles me from below through the slit, lifting, holding me as my skirt slips up… his hand cradling my crown and fingers tangling in my hair. I give back as good as I’m getting, a heated passion I never knew existed before this moment! I’ve never wanted to fu—

A crackling sound interrupts us, speaking through the emergency call box. “That was beautiful,” the voice proclaims, “but we really need you to restart the elevator please.”

My eyes widen. Oh, my Kami! 

“Whoops!” Natsu chuckles, giving me one last kiss before setting me down nicely. He hits the button again to turn the elevator back on. 

It’s pretty damn embarrassing now to realize there are probably cameras in the elevator! I use the short time we have left to fix my dress and smooth down my hair. And right before the door opens, Natsu places his suit jacket over my shoulders, shielding me from some of the gawkers as we walk out. We head straight for the front door where the valet calls over our driver. 

Now safe in the backseat of Natsu’s car, I’m still buzzing from the heated moment. So, I simply rest my head against his shoulder quietly before I lose control again. Because it feels so good to finally let go! 

Natsu kisses the side of my head and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “I knew you were special, but I never would’ve guessed you’d turn my life upside down.”

After everything that just occurred, that’s what he has to say? I snort a laugh, “Are you sure you still want me around? Last chance to make your decision before I toss away my old life for you.”

“Pfft, are you kidding,” Natsu turns my chin and pressures his lips to mine. “Consider yourself kidnapped.”

I giggle against his lips and return his kiss with a pleasurable moan… Oh Kami, what have I gotten myself into! 

My name is Lucy Heartfilia, an undercover agent for the major crime’s unit in the Tokyo police department. The date is July 26th, 2026, and operation Tame the Dragon has been terminated by me. This report is being sent in as my final communication to headquarters. I have not been able to substantiate any new information against the Dragneel Yakuza organization. Their members are too loyal to allow any information to slip freely and so I have failed in this mission. Consider this report my resignation. I QUIT!

[bouquins]

love at first check: a tale (pt. four)

I | II | III

Oh, look, an update!  I hope you enjoy! :) 

To say Alice lost her mind when I told her what had happened would be an understatement. A more exact description would be that she was temporarily braindead for nearly a minute before spurring herself back to life, spitting out the beer she had been drinking for good measure.  

“When you said, ‘we need an emergency meeting’, I thought it was because you saw someone get murdered someone or something, not to tell me that apparently your chess friend or whatever is actually one of the hottest players in the fucking NFL. This is—is—absolutely fucking insane!” Alice paces along the floor of my studio apartment, muttering more expletives to herself than me at this point.  

“Well, would you rather I did see a murder?” I respond, taking a sip from my own beverage at my desk, still looking over the tabs of ‘intelligence gathering’ Alice and I have now opened on my laptop in order to gain more information on what on earth I have just gotten myself into.  

Alice snaps out of her state and frowns at me. “Obviously not. But at least that would just involve a police report and not, you know, planning five months in advance to meet an incredibly famous person and his equally famous teammates. I’m not even you, and this is infinitely more stressful!” She flops down into the seat next to mine and rubs her face with her hands. She narrows her eyes at me before taking a sip of her beer and says, “Honestly, you should be much more freaked out about this than I am.” I only roll my eyes in response and look at my screen, making sure to memorize the facts and figures of the Bengals roster.  

“I already did the hand waving freak out before you got here, thank you very much.”  

“Good, so that means we can focus on the important stuff: not looking like an idiot.” Alice points at the roster on the website. “Can’t show up as his date and be a complete dumbass who doesn’t know anything about sports-ball or what his favorite color is—what is Joe’s favorite color, by the way?” She turns, her finger now pointing towards me with a mischievous grin on her face.  

“Blue,” I respond at once, which makes Alice’s grin even wider. “Oh, come on! It’s not a date. He would have said so if it was!”  

Alice, not impressed with my protest, continues. “Pretty sure it is, Caoimhe. Guys don’t just ask to ‘meet up’ without a reason, especially if he’s never met you before. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to come up to his hotel for some strip chess.” Alice gives a good impression of a leer, waggling her eyebrows up and down.  

I glower and take a long swig from my beer while I process Alice’s statement. While glib, she does have a point. All things being equal, if she had told me she was in the exact situation I’m in, of course I would make the same assumption. Of course I’d tell her that Joe—or whomever—is likely looking to get some action. Even so, I can’t help but be bothered by this conjecture.  I shake my head in disagreement. “I don’t think that’s in the cards but thank you for the encouragement.”

“Whatever you say, Caoimhe, but keep a condom or two on you just in case—how big do you think he is?”  

Alice was about to say more, but a swift face full of pretzels shut her up.  

________________________________________________________________________________

Strangely enough, the following chess meetups between Joe and I become more relaxed than our earlier sessions. If anything, he was more jovial, if it’s even possible. I suppose when one reveals one’s not-so-secret-and-actually-pretty-cool identity, there’s nowhere to go but up in one’s interpersonal relationships. Conversations turned more towards our own mundane activities. Joe regaled upon his surprisingly complex routine: meals, practice, exercises, and tactics preparations that were more akin to a Pentagon wargame than what I imagined a football match even needed.  Naturally, this included the schedule for future games in the upcoming season—and one game in particular kept creeping into our conversations.  

“Joe, stop worrying about the Ravens! You’ll beat them like you did last year, and the year before, and the year before that...” I honestly want to throttle the man out of this obsession. “Honestly, you probably need to focus more on improving your ELO than those guys—your streak has gone to shit!”  

Joe shrugs at the screen and chuckles. “Some of us have just have a bad one, Caoimhe,” he tries to assure me, but the distracted look in his eyes does little to convince me otherwise.  

“Well, you’d better shape up before you come out here—I don’t want to beat you in under ten moves,” I tease.  Joe’s eyes widen at my remark, and a smile slowly appears on his face.  

“Well, now that you’ve reminded me, I guess I do need to up my game if I’ll be in the presence of a chess goddess,” Joe chuckles. “Speaking of,” he continues, “know any good chess spots in Baltimore?”

“I know the perfect place,” I smile, “but you’ll have to try to be a bit inconspicuous, considering it’s in broad daylight and all. No Cartier glasses!” I wag a finger at him, and Joe only rolls his eyes.  “Seriously though, you might get hustled right of your clothes if you’re not careful!”  

“Wandering around nude in Baltimore doesn’t sound pleasant,” Joe concedes with a chuckle, but I feel the heat rise in my face at the mention of such a thing. Between Alice’s needling and my own anxieties, I’ve done my best to not ruminate any further on any sort of hanky-panky between us.  Joe’s comment isn’t helping with that.  

I cough and try not to sputter the rest of my tea onto my monitor. “Yeah, it would be,” I mumble, looking into my cup to hide my redness. If I get upset this easily now, how on earth am I going to deal with this later?  

Before I can ponder this any longer, Joe and I are interrupted by his phone alarm going off, signaling his need to sign off and go on one of his many exercise regimens.  

“Well, looks like we’ll have to talk about wandering around Baltimore in various stages of undress later,” I joke (or am I?). 

“Oh, definitely,” Joe winks, and if he didn’t log right after I’m pretty sure I would have been petrified into silence. I definitely need to get sorted out before we meet in meat-space. I’m not the goddess of chess for nothing.

[honorhearted]

Ben's skepticism was palpable. He'd just endured days, nay, weeks of unfathomable torture, and now she expected him to just sit back and listen to whatever lies she'd concocted? Shaking his head, he moved to disagree, but that was when Phoebe nailed him with her first report.

"France has just recently agreed to lend their aid to your cause and the first of their fleet has already arrived, that is no secret, but in anticipation of the second fleet expected to dock by Summer's end, the British forces are well aware of this and are planning to move the naval bulk for a counter-attack on the French on Rhode Island."

His mouth dropped and he blinked repeatedly, overwhelmed by the staggering rush through his lungs. "How do you know this?" Ben demanded. "Who told you?"

"I have written evidence of their plotted tactical positions and security measures. If you wish to avoid a significant blow to your only allies, then you will send the information on to General Washington."

"How?" he coolly demanded, finally losing his patience. "You've entrapped me in this...this damnable chair and kept me away from my men. You refused me the right to contact, and now you're just going to let me? Just like that?"

Head reeling, Ben exhaled and dropped his face down into his hands, rubbing slowly as his temples throbbed. It couldn't be real -- it couldn't! -- and yet it was horribly possible. Phoebe sounded far too knowledgeable to have created such a lie. Womenfolk weren't well-versed in tactical battle plans, and this was just a fact.

"I do not intend to elaborate on my motives for giving you such delicate intelligence beyond this: The crown has taken everything that matters from me and I have no further reason to pledge loyalty to a king that cares not for the pawns in his bloody war."

With a huff, Ben bitterly lifted his head. "On that we can agree," he said. "The king thrives while his loyal subjects suffer, bleed, die to bring him more power. I'll have no part of that future."

"As for what I want in return...well perhaps that's best left for discussion when you've had a chance to heal."

Distrust once more clouded his eyes. "You intend to hire me, I suppose? To spy for you? Because madam, I must inform you that my loyalty is secured to my commander, His Excellency General George Washington. I will never serve anyone else but our God above, and the very commander He placed as the head of our army."

"Are you certain you aren't here to finish me off?"

His question earned a compulsory little laugh. Regardless of whether to not he agreed to the proposal she had prepared for him, she could be certain that at the very least she would not find herself bored with his presence.

Of course, this Major Tallmadge had no reason to trust her, nor would she anticipate his confidence after a mere few words of encouragement on her part.

"You may be far prettier than Blackwood, but I'm not stupid."

"I don't believe you are, which is why I also believe you'll utilize the information I'm about to give you. So listen and listen well, Major."

"You just want me to listen? For what purpose?"

Phoebe was being dreadfully vague, knowing that once she began this descent into betraying her country, there would be no turning back. If she were discovered, it would mean her life. The latter, however, mattered very little to her now that her husband was gone.

"France has just recently agreed to lend their aid to your cause and the first of their fleet has already arrived, that is no secret, but in anticipation of the second fleet expected to dock by Summer's end, the British forces are well aware of this and are planning to move the naval bulk for a counter-attack on the French on Rhode Island. I have written evidence of their plotted tactical positions and security measures. If you wish to avoid a significant blow to your only allies, then you will send the information on to General Washington."

She paused to allow a moment to process, giving his knee a light squeeze, gentle, but firm enough for him to register through the atrophy, "I do not intend to elaborate on my motives for giving you such delicate intelligence beyond this: The crown has taken everything that matters from me and I have no further reason to pledge loyalty to a king that cares not for the pawns in his bloody war."

In the words of Lady Macbeth, what was done was done.

"As for what I want in return...well perhaps that's best left for discussion when you've had a chance to heal."

[thebookreader12345]

Difference of Opinion - Chapter Four

Synopsis: The Intelligence Unit just wanted a nice vacation. What they didn’t expect was to be pulled into an active investigation by Agent L/N, who works at the BAU

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Five

I thought that talking about things with the Intelligence Unit would help solve our problem. But boy was I wrong. Because all that did was start up an argument that didn't look like it would end well.

"Are you kidding me? I barely touched the guy!" Adam exclaimed.

"You shoved him against a wall and bent his arm backwards," I retort.

"This is ridiculous," Kim claimed. "We were all just trying to help."

"Yeah, well, newsflash, you didn't," Emily spoke.

"No offense, but you guys don't exactly have any effective methods for getting information from people," Kevin put in.

"What, because we don't use violence or feel the need to threaten people with words and weapons? You guys are taking things too far," Derek stated.

"This same thing happened when I was up in New York. You FBI Agents are all so uptight," Hailey grumbled.

"At least we're not in the news all the time for shooting innocent people," I counter. And that just set off an even bigger bomb. Everyone from Intelligence started yelling and cursing at the BAU, and vice versa. Our raised voices floated out into the bullpen and the entrance to the sixth floor, so basically everyone could hear us. Including Hotch.

"What the hell is going on here?" Hotch asked as he stepped into the conference room. All at once, everyone tried to talk to him. Voices flew across the room, some trying to be louder than others, but Hotch wasn't having it. "Everybody quiet down! Y/n, would you please tell me what's going on?"

"They don't want to follow the FBI's rules," I explain. "They're trying to do the police way of things, and they're crossing lines that could get this unit into some serious shit if anyone found out."

"All right. Look, we're happy that you guys are here helping us," Hotch told the Intelligence Unit. "But this isn't Chicago. It's D.C. And we're a federal agency, not just a city one. We have a lot of higher ups breathing down our necks every single second of everyday. So if you guys want to stay here and help, you have to follow the rules. End of story."

Jay sighed. "Fine. We'll tone things down a bit."

"Good. Now, did anyone find anything while out searching the chemical factories?" Hotch questioned.

Spencer raised his hand. "Hailey and I may have found something. All chemical compounds, even if they're the same, have different footprints. It makes it easy to track them in case something goes wrong. So, all of the chemicals from a single batch will have the same genetic makeup to a T. I called Garcia to ask her to look into autopsy reports, and she told me that the Batrachotoxin found in all of the dead politicians matched the footprint of a batch from Ace Chemicals, the supplier we were about to go look into."

"And when we looked through the factory's storage, we found that only 1 gram of the toxin had been stolen," Hailey continued. "According to the manager, he didn't even know it had been missing. But only 136 micrograms of Batrachotoxin is needed to kill a person. That's only .000136 grams. Which means technically speaking, our offender could kill 400 people, including those she already dosed."

"So what you're saying is that we need to hurry the hell up and find this unsub," I sum up. "Got it."

"We should start looking into employees under Ace Chemical and see if any of them have relationships with anyone who fits our profile," Rossi shared.

"I was going to say the same thing. Lets get to work," Hotch ordered.

............................................

"Ugh," I groan and rub my eyes. "Why can't I find anything? Our unsub had to have a connection inside of that factory in order to get the toxin, so why can't I see it?"

"Because the employers you were assigned to look over have absolutely no connection to our unsub. But I may have someone who might," Spencer declared and gestured for me to follow after him. Spencer led me into Hotch's office, and our boss glanced up when the two of us entered.

"Did you find anything?" Hotch quizzed.

Spencer nodded. "Yeah. I was looking through the batch of employees you gave me, and I think I found our missing link. Stephen Thomas. He's a floor manager at Ace Chemicals, meaning he's got access to the Batrachotoxin. He's also got a sister, Molly Thomas, who fits our profile. She lost her son, Daniel, earlier this year because of our first victim, Peter Hart's, new industrial project. Waste from the factory got into the neighborhood's drinking water, and Daniel got sick when playing in a nearby river. He died 2 days later."

"Sounds like a solid lead," Hotch commented. "The two of you go have a chat with Mr. Thomas."

So, the two of us grabbed a set of keys for an SUV and headed down to the garage to find our ride. Knowing that Spencer didn't like to drive, I offered to, and we both climbed into our seats. The first few minutes of the ride were dead silent, but I soon spoke up.

"Do you think it was wrong of me to invite the Intelligence Unit for help?" I ask.

Spencer frowned. "Why would you say that?"

"Because it seems like them being here has only caused a bunch of problems," I answer.

"Don't doubt yourself, Y/n. You brought them in because you thought they could help, which they have," Spencer pointed out. "And yeah, there have been a few issues, but everything's being sorted out. I trust your decisions. I always have, and I always will."

"Thanks, Spencer," I murmur as we came upon Ace Chemical. I pulled into an open parking spot and turned off the car. Then, I looked over at my partner. "You ready to do this?"

"Finally confirm who our unsub is? Yeah," Spencer responded. "I think it's long overdue."

"Then lets get going," I say and hop out of the car. Together, we entered the chemical factory looking for Stephan. On the main floor, we approached a man who looked to be in charge, and he turned towards us as we neared him. "Hi, sir. I'm Agent L/n, and this is Dr. Reid. We're with the FBI. Could you point us in the direction of Stephen Thomas?"

"You're talking to him," the man replied. "I'm Stephen. What can I do for you guys?"

"Were you aware that 1 gram of your Batrachotoxin was missing?" Spencer questioned.

"Uh, yes. I was told by some of my employees that two FBI agents came by earlier to check storage, and that they noticed some of the chemical missing," Stephen shared.

"Okay, and are you aware how deadly that toxin is?" I implore.

"Of course. Everyone who works here does," Stephen revealed. "Now, can I ask what this is about?"

"Does your sister Molly have any access to the storage facilities?" Spencer pushed.

"What? No. I mean, yes, but only once. Just a few weeks ago she..." Stephen trailed off, and his face paled. "She asked if she could grab some of the extra acetone we had laying around. You know, nail polish remover. I never thought.....you think she killed these people?"

"Your nephew Daniel was killed due to neglect by a company owned by a man named Peter Hart. He was the first victim," I disclose. "So yes, we do believe she killed all of these politicians."

"Oh my God," Stephen muttered. "Molly and I just had dinner together last week. After Daniel died, her husband and her drifted apart, and he had just filed divorce papers, so I figured I'd keep her company. How did I not know?"

"Mr. Thomas, it's not your fault," Spencer assured him. "None of this is your fault. Thank you for all of your help."

"No problem. Just, be gentle on Molly, okay? She's had a rough few weeks," Stephen told us.

"Will do, Mr. Thomas," I confirm. "Again, thanks for your help." With that, Spencer and I exited the factory, ready to call the rest of our teammates. However, before we could get back into the car, I reached out and gently grabbed onto Spencer's arm, stopping him from walking any further. He then turned around so that we were face to face. "You did it, Spence! You're a genius. You just solidified our lead. I'm so happy I could kiss you right now!"

"Oh. I uh, I actually wouldn't be opposed to that," Spencer claimed.

And not even a second later, I leaned forwards and pressed my lips to Spencer's. Never in a million years did I think Spencer would like me back, let alone kiss me. I cupped his cheeks with my hands, allowing myself to deepen the kiss. As I did, Spencer moved his hands to my waist to pull me closer. I smiled against Spencer's lips, enjoying the feeling of being this close to him. After a few seconds, the two of us pulled away from each other, but I immediately wanted to be back in Spencer's arms.

"We should contact the rest of the team," I announce. "They can meet us at Molly Thomas' address."

"Okay," Spencer agreed. "Could we maybe talk later? You know, about what just happened."

"Deal. But before we get back to work, I'd really like to kiss you again," I profess. And I did.

___________________

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