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muffinsin · 1 month ago

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🕯️Bound by you 🕯️

Sub! Daniela x Dom! female OC x Switch! G!P OC

[Tags: G!P, anal, vaginal and oral sex & penetration, hair pulling, DP]

Daniela has two lovers to spend Halloween night with

Masterlists

- a part of the Happy Halloween collection, the other parts of this collection being Cassandra x OC and Bela x Donna. All parts can be found at the collections Halloween section and will be linked here (Bela) (Cassandra) once they’re out!🙌

Happy soon-to be Halloween! ;) tomorrow’s part will be Bela’s🙌 Cassandra will follow on the 31st!👻

Daniela squeaks as she’s lifted, giggling when a kiss is pressed to her soft, warm cheek. She feels another pair of lips against her other, equally warm cheek, then. Her hands are grabbed by one woman each, one of their hands at hers, the other at her elbow each. Guiding her- no, luring her into the room.

She so eagerly gives in…

She gasps when one of the hands moves downwards, boldly grabbing onto her thick ass and massaging it beneath the clothing. Another, equally greedy hand reaches up to cup one of her breasts.

She’s left entirely flustered, her golden eyes wide when they meet Annah’s brown ones. The taller, stronger woman stands to her right, a dirty smirk on her unpainted, bitten lips as she squeezes Daniela’s ass cheek again. She manages to hold it firmly in her large hand, the other holding the young Dimitrescu close by her hand.

On her left stands her other lover, Freya. The blonde doesn’t look at her, merely tips Daniela’s face away with her head to access her neck. Her partner’s hand wanders from her chest to her neck, carefully and gently undoing the choker necklace with the green gemstone.

Then, her tongue darts out at last, licking, sliding across the Dimitrescu’s soft, pale neck. She guides her hand down, until sweet Daniela gasps when her hand bumps into the bulge in her partner’s pants.

She gasps again when she’s tugged closer to Annah, her rough, low voice whispering in her ear; “Happy Halloween, Dani. We heard your mother is hosting again this year?”

A rhetorical question, but Daniela nods nonetheless. With her cheeks completely flushed, her neck licked and ass kneaded, she can only moan softly and grab at the bulge just beneath her hand. Large, pleasantly so, though comfortably so. Not enough to cause her pain, thankfully, as some of Annah’s strap occasionally do.

Ah,

But only the best kind of pain, of course.

“Have we got costumes yet?”, her other partner asks, her blonde hair tickling Daniela’s neck. She’s shivering, her body overly sensitive from the kissing and groping.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got something in mind. I’m not quite…captured yet, though, by this Halloween spirit, so to speak”, Annah answers, laughing when she roughly tugs the older woman’s corset from her and Daniela gasps in surprise.

She feels Freya move behind her, kissing and biting along her neck before she eventually begins to work at the zipper of her dress. She feels her bulge press into her ass cheeks and must try everything in her power to stand still and not grind back against it.

“You’ll help us with that, won’t you, princess?”, Annah asks then, adding to her previous statement. But poor Daniela is far too distracted to even remember this. As such, she nods fast, unsure what she’s even agreeing to. But when her dress is tugged down hungrily only a moment later, she smiles widely. Oh, she can definitely help them out like this!

She squirms in anticipation as her dress is fully peeled from her and pools around her legs, leaving her black bra and large chest, her wide hips and soft skin, her black panties and round ass cheeks and her black tights and long legs revealed.

She leans up to kiss Annah, tipping a little in her heels as she attempts to gain some additional height to reach the tall woman. When her lips press against hers, she moans, her head light, her body sensitive. She feels her partner clasp the bra off, allowing it to fall to the floor, too, and gasps into the dominant woman’s mouth when her partner cups her breasts eagerly again.

“You’ll be a good girl for us tonight”, Annah whispers- an order. And a warning. She will not stand for sweet Daniela to brat this time. Excited, but obedient, the shorter woman nods, chasing her lover’s lips again already. She pushes her ass back, moaning at the feeling of Freya’s hands on her and bulge against her thick ass cheeks.

She squeaks when she’s lifted at is, her heels tugged from her, her tights eagerly torn off by Freya. With only her wet panties still on and clinging to her wet folds, Daniela feels adorably flustered. She holds onto Annah’s shoulders tightly, her sharp nails digging into the hard skin slightly. She’s held in a tight grip, her the hands at her fingers strong. The taller woman stretches her arms out, leaving the redhead gasping and dangling in the air. A new position, one that has her arms ache, but thankfully being made of flies has Daniela rather light, putting little strain on the large muscles gracing Annah’s arms and body. With her lower half dangling, it’s easy for Freya to remove the last bit of clothing of her lover; the black panties.

“A-Ah! Love…!”, Daniela gasps, feeling soft, but strong fingers between her legs. The wet panties are rubbed against her privates, against her clit, and have her try to squirm and moan helplessly. But she’s only kissed, muffling her moans and gasps momentarily.

“She’s all wet already”, Freya groans. She stands with her knees bent a little, thighs pushed against one another and stomach brushing against the bulge between them. She’s almost painfully hard and yearns to push herself into her tight lover.

Being no fan of being penetrated herself, Annah never allows her to fuck her…! Ah, but Dani? Cute, eager, tight Daniela? She drools at the mere thought of her girlfriend’s juicy, warm pussy.

The tall woman laughs as she watches her two lovers, one with her eyes closed, moaning and whimpering, the other groaning and rubbing at her bulge and Daniela’s panty-covered privates.

When she clears her throat, the somewhat submissive woman tears them off at last, blushing and licking her lips at the sight of Daniela’s pink pussy drooling wetness already. She can’t blame her, not really. Not when her own cock is hard and leaks pre cum already.

Just when Daniela’s put back on her feet she grabs at her, eagerly grabbing her petite wrist and pulling her with her. The young woman giggles in surprise, cooing when she’s pulled to the bed first, then flush against the other woman. Unlike Annah’s, Freya’s lips are soft still, her tongue skilled as it effortlessly dominates Daniela’s mouth. Again, she gropes shamelessly, pulling her nipples and squeezing her tits, even going so far as to pull Daniela so flush against her she can- albeit a little awkwardly- thrust up and rub her bulge against her.

“Now, now. You know she isn’t ready yet. I told you, the purpose of this is to get me in the mood for Halloween”, Annah tsks, but doesn’t separate the pair for a few moments. She watches, amused at their needy rutting and moaning. Alas, she wants a little more than just dry humping one another.

Daniela gasps when she’s pushed down to her knees, strong fingers tangling in her hair and forcing her head to stay still.

“Undress, now”, Annah commands, watching with a confident smirk as Freya immediately tears away her blouse and unzips her pants. She groans when her underwear comes off, her large, curved cock at last out. Daniela nearly flinches back in surprise when it’s freed, yet the grip on her hair has her stay still and merely close her eyes and gasp when the cock slaps against her face.

“Look at you”, the tall woman whispers, bending down to whisper against Daniela’s cheek. She cups the cock dangling in front of them, pulling a groan from their younger lover.

“You’re so pretty, Dani”, she coos, chuckling when the woman’s cheeks heat up already. Having been so affection starved for so long, it’s adorably easy to rile Daniela up and make her blush.

“But,…”, she trails off, slapping the leaking tip against the woman’s soft, parted lips. “…you’ll look even better with cock stuffing your mouth”, she adds.

Without a warning, the fingers in her hair tug her forwards, cutting off her gasp when the cock easily slides inside her mouth by her parted lips. Golden eyes are wide, even teary already. She’s tugged more and more, until Freya groans helplessly and she’s taken her in her mouth all the way til the base of her cock.

She’s breathing heavily through her nose, teary eyed and overly careful not to cut the curved cock in her mouth with her razor sharp teeth. Freya shivers, her cock throbbing in her lover’s mouth.

When Annah begins to pull beautiful, auburn hair with her fingers the Dimitrescu moves at last, moaning as she’s made to deepthroat the other woman. She squirms and moans, barely resisting the urge to snake her hand between her bare legs. She whines and moans loudly, wordlessly pleading for her lover to grant her some pleasure at least. With her nails sharp like claws, she can’t even push them in herself without risk, and she’s sure the two more dominant women would easily grab and pin her arms if she tried to reach down and rub at her clit.

She bobs her head forth and back, her black lipstick smearing onto the cock in her mouth and her plump lips. The sight and feeling of it alone has the other woman’s legs tremble and cock twitch within her mouth. With Annah just occasionally stroking her and hardly ever taking her in her mouth too, she’s just about in love with Daniela’s tight throat. Especially when it comes with the arousing view of their other lover dominating her even during this, guiding her head forth and back, forcing more of Freya’s cock down her throat until her face is pressed up against the woman’s lower stomach.

She looks down, her eyes nearly fluttering shut at the sight below her. Daniela, beautifully on her knees, black lips wrapped around her wet cock, her hair held tight and used almost as a leash to tug her back and a force to keep her moving forwards again.

She gasps when Annah grabs her chin, too, pulling her forwards and forcing her flush against Daniela. The woman’s eyes are wide, her mouth stretched wide around the thick base. She’s drooling helplessly, mouth and throat stuffed entirely.

“Look at her when she sucks you off. And you”, she trails off, turning back to Daniela. “Look up at her when you use your pretty mouth”, she commands, and both women obey quickly, one’s eyes betraying her need to cum, the other’s betraying her desperation and eagerness.

Daniela moans and whimpers lowly, her hips rolling, her pussy drooling already. She’s sure, no preparation would be needed at all for her lover to push into her now. She looks up a little more when her hair is let go of, but shrieks, albeit muffled, when Annah pushes her forwards again before stepping away.

Now entirely pressed up against Freya’s stomach with her face, she tries her best to breathe still, feeling precum drool against the back of her throat.

Her other lover returns fast, snapping a black collar around her throat, which has both more submissive women moan. The collar sits tight, squeezing Daniela’s throat and making it tighten around the cock occupying it.

The blonde thrusts lightly, groaning as her balls slap against the submissive woman’s chin with every move.

Just a little more.

A little more…

She’s so close…

Her eyes slip shut, her hands grip desperately at the table she leans back against.

So close…

Both women find themselves lost in the pleasure, so that neither quite notice it when Annah fixes a black leash to Daniela’s collar.

They do, however, notice it when it’s pulled, forcing the auburn haired woman away and making her gag and cough as she’s yanked against her tall lover’s legs.

Giving them little time to recover, Annah licks her lips and picks Daniela up, grabbing at her hip and arm and lifting her to face their other lover.

“Well, come on, fuck her!”, she taunts, laughing when Freya immediately steps forward them, parting and lifting their lover’s thighs. Daniela squirms beautifully as the spit-soaked cock slaps against her pink pussy at last.

Her leash is tugged again and she finds herself looking up, golden eyes wide and finding brown ones.

“You’ll be good, princess, won’t you? You won’t be a little brat today and you’ll behave, isn’t that right?”, Annah asks, a knowing smile on her unpainted lips. With her smeared lipstick and wide eyes, her clothing torn from her and her pussy drooling already, she does look like a tamed brat.

Daniela nods fast, agreeing eagerly. “Yes, yes, my love! I’ll be good! Please, my love!”, she whimpers, already trying to part her legs a little more. She’s utterly needy for the two of them, desperate to feel her lover’s cock in her and to perhaps even be on the receiving end of her partner’s strap.

She smiles widely when Annah hums, a sign that Freya may continue and- finally- push herself inside.

Held tight by both her lovers, Daniela can only moan and gasp, her chest heaving as she’s filled to the brim immediately. She’s utterly soaked, her wet pussy accepting the spit-covered cock in easily.

Another tug of her leash demands her attention back by Annah, who all too eagerly swallows the goth mutant’s moans by kissing her.

“You’ll be good today. I’ll see to it personally”, she promises against wet lips, her tongue darting out to lick smeared, black lipstick from the shorter, more submissive girl.

“And you’ll be a good little princess and cum when I tell you to, not a moment before, yeah?”, she orders, but her words make Daniela clench around the cock filling her. Of course, this brings more moans from the blonde, too.

“Ye-Yes, my love!”, Daniela assures, her head spinning, her body as though on fire. Freya, using both women’s distraction to her advantage, has gripped the submissive woman’s thighs hard, thrusting faster and faster, eager to cum.

She’s groaning and gasping, her sensitive cock aching and twitching already. Poor Daniela feels almost impaled, her stomach bulging slightly with every thrust deep into her.

She throws her head back, moaning as her hips snap against Daniela’s faster and harder. She feels so close, so close…far too close to pull back again.

Reaching up with her thumb, she rubs the other woman’s clit in tight circles, moaning and whimpering when her cock is squeezed in return, slurred and muffled moans all swallowed by Annah.

The strong woman nudges Daniela’s head gently, urging her to look back at their lover.

“Look at her, staring at you, taking you in while she fucks you…”, Anna groans, somewhat breathless from the arousing display, too. She too feels her boxers stick to her pussy already, fully soaked through in the middle, no doubt. Still, being somewhat of a stone top, she enjoys watching the two slutty women far better for the time being.

Daniela’s cheeks adapt a cute, pink colour when they find the hungry look in Freya’s eyes. The woman rubs her clit faster the faster she thrusts in and out, her cock coming out soaking wet and dripping slick every time.

“You want this, Dani? To cum for us?”, Annah teases, well aware of the signs of an orgasm rising within her girlfriends by now. Freya trembles, her movements faster and less controlled, almost animalistic as she thrusts and rubs at Daniela’s sensitive nub.

The other submissive woman, on the other hand, is almost tense in her poor attempt to stop herself from cumming. Her thighs tremble and nipples are rock hard. Her black painted lips are parted, allowing them to hear her loud, breathless moans and whimpers, even little pleas that oh please, please, may she cum!

She squeaks adorably when Freya moves in entirely, grabbing a little harder and pushing herself in until she’s flush against the woman’s wet pussy.

“T-Too de-A-Ah! Love!”, Daniela pants, her body shaking, her clit throbbing below Freya’s finger. She moans against Annah’s lips, swallowing her moans as she shivers, overcome with sadistic pleasure of the display in front of her.

Freya, so deep inside their sensitive lover almost thinks she can’t take it, her pussy full, her ass sporting two pink prints of the countless times thick, heavy balls slapped against it.

She groans, her own pussy throbbing with want when Daniela goes to beg again, biting down on her soft lips instead as she whispers; “Sshhh, sweetheart, don’t beg. We’ll make sure your pussy fits perfectly around her”

It seems, this is all her other girlfriend needs, for she bottoms out, groaning and gasping, cumming deep inside Daniela. She’s shivering and moaning, feeling the warmth be shot deep in her womb. Already, she feels like she can’t hold it in anymore, like her body needs the release only an orgasm can bring.

Briefly, she thinks: but Freya got to cum! Why can’t she?!, but she quickly ride herself of it, knowing petty jealousy and brattiness will not get her anywhere this time, nor any other time when Annah has set her mind to something.

She briefly thinks back to her latest punishment, her pussy stuffed by vibrating balls, turned off just before she’d cum every single time, her mouth stretched open by a gag for Freya and Annah to take advantage of. For hours, she was tormented! Hours, her throat used and painted in white seed until she finally got to cum, too.

Perhaps, being a brat is not a good idea today, she thinks.

Instead she looks up at Annah, whimpering, begging for an orgasm. Instead, the woman only kisses her, laughing when seed drips from the sides of Freya’s cock the moment she pulls away even slightly.

“No, Daniela. You’ll behave today”, she speaks, her tone and words leaving no room for argument at all. Then, it softens a little, laced with amusement as she watches more cum drip from Daniela.

“Just look at you, you’re made to be a pretty breeding doll. So be good, let us play with you, then you might just get to cum before we head downstairs, yeah?”, she teases, the promise of a reward enough to make Daniela nod quickly.

She whines when Freya pulls out eventually, her cock slapping against her thigh, thick cum immediately drooling from the submissive woman as she pants.

Her hips roll, her eyes set on the drooling, throbbing cock now covered in cum and slick. Annah laughs, noticing this. “Dani, what did we say about showing off what a slut we are? I know you want her dick, princess, but make it a little less obvious, will you?”, she mocks lightheartedly, readjusting her grip on the shorter woman just enough to lift her in a different position, over her shoulder.

This close, she smells both Daniela and Freya from the woman’s soft pussy.

She squeals in surprise when Annah drops her on the soft bed, her wetness smearing against it briefly before she’s adjusted and made to stay on her hands and knees.

This time, it’s the blonde to pull something from their drawer of toys; a black blindfold, tied carefully to cover Daniela’s eyes. The woman squirms, leashed and blind, her pussy drooling onto the bed steadily.

She jumps, then, feeling her leg be lifted just enough for Annah and Freya to put black heels on her. A pair of panties follow, black, with an orange string and little pumpkins imprinted on it at the sides. It’s left by her knees, though, ensuring her privates are still easily accessible.

She flinches away in surprise when her breasts are grabbed, gasping and giggling when a soothing kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“So jumpy today, Dani”, Freya giggles, pressing another kiss to her girlfriend’s soft, warm cheek.

Next, something is clasped to her collar again, yet she squeals when she next feels something clamp down on her right nipple. Recognizing the vampire-themed clamps immediately, she squeals, whining and squirming only to moan when it causes her breasts to be tugged back.

She gasps when she feels a wet finger against her lips, immediately seals them again and shivers in anticipation when Annah’s low voice reaches her ears.

“What did we say about behaving, princess? Didn’t you want to help us get in the mood for Halloween?”, she coos, taking notice of how her mere voice has Daniela’s thighs tremble adorably. She’s close still, her sensitive nipple trapped, her breasts held tightly in place by Freya as she kneels.

Daniela gasps when her ass is slapped suddenly, an answer demanded of her. Still, the sting alone and pleasure of it nearly has her cum on the spot.

“Yes, my love!”, she answers quickly. “I do!”, she assures them even with trembling thighs and a pussy drooling slick and cum down onto the sheets.

She finds herself moaning and whimpering when the other clamp comes down on her left nipple at last.

Her breasts are released, her ass cheek rubbed momentarily before another spank follows. Not a punishment, not this one, not this time. The slaps that come are almost gentle, intent on riling poor, sensitive Daniela up, not bruising her ass cheeks as they might during punishments. Nothing bad, and certainly nothing that won’t heal quick due to her biology.

Freya teasingly blows against trapped nipples, watching as her girlfriend trembles adorably. She whines and moans, unused to the clamp’s vampire-like, fang-like claws pressing into her sensitive nipples.

Then, no more spanks come, no nothing. She gasps as she feels hands lingering on her for but a moment before they disappear again.

Then, a minute later or so, the bed dips by her side and a moment after she squeaks when her nose is held shut by two fingers.

Sensing her girlfriends’ sadistic play only a little too late, Daniela squeaks and gags automatically when a wet cock is pushed back into her open mouth, coating her lips in fresh cum and slick again.

“Good girl, take it, Dani. You’ve got me all messy, now you’ve got to clean me again”, Freya chuckles, her hips rolling and thrusting at a decent pace. Still, her cock hits the back of Daniela’s throat each time, forcing her to gag and her throat to tighten around her.

Then, suddenly, she feels something else. Something large, slapping first against her hip, then her thigh.

She gasps around the cock drilling into her mouth, trying to turn her head to no avail when it’s simply grabbed and she’s made to face forwards again.

“Don’t worry about that, Dani!”, Freya giggles. “Just focus on me, besutiful”, she urges, thrusting her hips a little faster.

And she tries, really, sucks obediently and moans happily, but then she feels the large thing return. Prodding between her legs, Daniela finally realizes what the object is. A strap, painfully big, beautifully big, just right to make her feel torn. She moans a little louder as it thrusts between her thighs, the realistic veins on it rubbing up against her sensitive clit.

This tells her it isn’t the kind to leave her sore for days, but the one that perfectly matches Annah, giving her a cock of fearsome size complimenting her stature.

She whines as she’s toyed with, the tip thrusting between her thighs, the length of it slapping up against her soaked pussy occasionally. Sometimes, it pulls back, slaps against her bubbly ass instead, then returns to prod at her wet hole again.

“Arch your back”

She moans at the low voice, the harsh command spoken softly and accompanied by a slap to her ass.

Eager to obey, to gain Annah’s favor tonight, she does as she’s told. She arches her back low, moans and hums around the large cock in her mouth as she does so. Her ass is perfectly displayed, her flowery pussy brushing lightly against the strap offered to it.

“Please, my love”, she whines, her words coming out slurred and muffled. Still, the black-brown-haired woman understands and chuckles.

“And you will be good for me, princess? You’ll take it however and wherever I give it to you, like a good little slut?”, she hums, strong, big hands stroking along soft ass cheeks. Daniela moans, nodding fast only to have her face gripped and held in place by Freya again.

“Mgnbnm! ‘es!”, Daniela answers instead, gagging and gasping beautifully at her futile attempt of talking with her mouth full; something the blonde is eager to tease her with.

“Come on, beautiful, make me cum and you’ll get what you wanttt”, she coos, hoping her girlfriend will play along. Hearing this, Daniela sucks a little harder, even raises her hand to play with the full, aching balls hanging by her chin whenever Freya shoves herself fully inside again.

She squeals when, finally, the strap tip pushes into her wet pussy. As she works and swirls her tongue around her girlfriend, she feels the other slowly thrust her strap deeper into her, in and out slow, until it’s entirely covered in cum and slickness still stored deep within their precious Daniela.

The young woman whines and moans at the slow pace, knowing her stronger lover is perfectly capable of picking her up by her hips and railing her into oblivion.

But, for some reason, she teases her instead, tempting her with a slow pace and harsh thrusts that make her choke on the cock in her mouth.

Her hair is grabbed, her head forced closer as she feels the cock throb and be pushed fully down her throat. She gags and cries automatically, but eventually manages to breathe through her nose, only gagging again when Annah pushes her body forwards with another powerful thrust.

And she laughs, chuckling when Freya cums far too soon again and attempts to pull away. Not this time, though.

“Ah, ah! You’ll stay in her pretty mouth for now. I don’t need her bratty demands right now”, she commands, teasing both more submissive women effortlessly.

Daniela whines and whimpers, able to finally suck on the tip leaking cum still when Freya pulls back a little. She’s careful with her teeth, giggling and swallowing all wetness that wasn’t already shot down her throat.

While she loves Annah’s taste, Daniela can’t help but moan whenever she gets to taste Freya, her long, thick cock enough to make her see stars, her cum thick and plenty. Often, she’s teased by the pair for this, called humiliating, degrading names that make her head spin.

As now, when Freya chuckles breathlessly and pats her warm cheek, rolling her hips just enough while her tip is sucked and kissed.

“Mmhmm, she’s sucking my tip like that again…”, she groans, breathless. Daniela smiles around her, yet soon shrieks when Annah shoves herself in fully, then pulls out entirely, the wet strap pushed against her drooling pussy as if to collect more of her wetness.

She whines when Freya pulls out too, left blindfolded and helpless on the bed for the pair. Alas, not for long, it seems, for greedy hands ghost along her sides quickly again.

“C’mere, you”, Annah moans, grabbing at Daniela’s hips at last and pulling the sweet thing to her again. She gasps, feeling herself be readjusted and pulled, held tight by multiple pair of hands until she hovers just above Annah’s strap, made to sit in her lap, but facing away from her.

“What are you two doing?”, she giggles, yet finds her answer coming very, very fast, when Freya, unable to control herself, grabs her hips and pulls them forward easily.

“Hey! It’s my turn now, you greedy thing!”, Annah complains, her grip on Daniela tightening. For a moment, she’s left helpless as her girlfriends bicker, one using strength to pull her back to her while the other grabs with both hands and tugs Daniela back by the chain connecting her nipple clamps to her breasts.

“Fre-A-Ah!”, she gasps, her pussy throbbing, her skin broken out into shivers. She’s so sensitive, feels right on the edge even. Then, she jumps, feeling one her lovers lick at her wet lips, the other whisper seductively in her ear.

“Awwh, poor thing can't hold it in? Come on, sweet pea, just a few more seconds and we’ll let you cum. Just be a good little thing for us and we’ll reward you. You’ll get to cum, we can head to the party, then take you again and again and again!”

Freya’s words, accompanied by Annah’s whisper next:

“Spread your legs, princess. Show us what a little slut you can be just for us”, she whispers, and naturally the woman obeys.

The first to push into her comes from Freya, her wet cock slipping into her soaked, warm pussy. She moans throatily, her back arching more, her hips held tightly by two pairs of hands.

Then, just when Freya begins to thrust again, she squeaks at the touch of a fingertip against her wet asshole. Sensing what’s about to happen already, she pushes backwards into Annah, a silent plea among her throaty moans and wanton cries of pleasure.

She whines and gasps, helpless, in the best way. First a finger pushes into her tighter hole, then back out, and in, and out. She shivers each time, moans and whimpers when it has her feel more and more sensitive.

She doesn’t yet understand it’s to wet her even more, to prepare her for something far larger.

What she can’t see, blindfolded, is the desperation and envy in her girlfriend’s eyes.

With Annah being the most dominant one of the three, she gets to fuck Daniela’s ass painfully rarely. It’s a reward, Annah insists, to get to be in her favorite hole, after all.

Secretly, they all know it’s more likely the tall woman rather enjoys how she can easily stretch out the hole over and over again, only allowing Freya the same when she’s been particularly good.

As such, Daniela gasps at the brutal pace the jealous woman sets, her pussy clinging to her as her ass is fingered and covered in more and more wetness.

Until, at last, she feels the thick head of Annah’s strap against her, slowly forcing itself into the tight, warm hole.

“A-Ah! Nghnmm!”, Daniela moans, her sounds soon shut up by the tongue at last pushing into her mouth, too.

When the strap finally fully slides into her, she almost feels torn in two, both her holes stuffed to the limit, her legs shaking enough that only the hands at her hips are holding her up still.

She gasps when Freya’s hand comes up to her throat, whereas Annah’s fingers grasp for a fistful of her soft hair. Both makes her moan loudly, her mouth dry almost until a tongue is back in and battling against her own, her body adorably sensitive.

She leans into the touches, whines and moans helplessly as she’s used and brought closer and closer to her orgasm again.

While Freya moves faster, Annah’s thrusts go deepe, sending the petite redhead bouncing up with every push of the fake cock into her.

She’s clenching around both, gripping onto Freya’s shoulders tightly. Still, she’s mindful of her nails, careful not to dig them in as she gets to do around her stronger, more durable lover. Annah smirks as she sees this.

Freya…an adorable thing to her, right, the one of the three the most sensitive to pain and discomfort, the one that often calls for them to restrain Daniela’s hands to keep her from scratching.

Contrasting this softness, Annah proudly wears the many scars, scratches from Daniela, on her back and shoulders.

She makes the young woman’s head tip backwards, laughing when drool soon runs down her cheeks. Fucked silly by the pair, Daniela can only moan and whimper mindlessly, beautifully at their mercy.

“Mhnmnn…she feels too good…”, Freya moans, her blonde hair sticking to her face, her legs shaky and hips aching with the speed she puts in her needy thrusts. Her tongue is wet from Daniela’s, her eyes fighting to stay open in the face of such pleasure.

“She’s close. You’ll wait it out for her, this time”, Annah simply responds, her words spoken breathlessly. She feels immense pleasure whenever she gets to take the two of them like that, making sweet Daniela’s body bounce and commanding her loving, switch girlfriend to do as she likes.

It’s a power trip, one she never gets tired of.

Letting go of Daniela’s waist for just a moment, she laughs when the woman nearly collapses, caught by Freya’s arms as she sinks down on both of them. She’s so full, she feels the bulge at her lower stomach and the wetness drooling from both ends.

When her wrists are suddenly grabbed, Daniela can do little to prepare herself for the harsh, fast thrusts that rock her body next.

“You’re close, my pretty girl…”, Annah taunts, grabbing both of Daniela’s wrists in one hand to rub at her sensitive clit with her free hand.

Unsurprisingly this has the shorter woman moan and gasp loudly, hips bucking, thighs trembling, nails sinking lightly into Freya’s sensitive flesh.

She isn’t corrected just yet.

“Plea-ahhhnnnnah!”, Daniela begs instead, her words breathy, her moans even more so. She’s shaking, trying so very hard to keep from cumming already.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been since she entered the room, but feels like she can barely take any more until an orgasm will rip through her, washing over her at last.

Thankfully, her lover is pleased with her obedience tonight.

“Mhmmm, cum for us. Squeeze our cocks like a good little slut, my little mouse”, she whispers.

How could she not follow this command instantly?

Her body trembles as she cums, her tight pussy milking Freya enough that she can’t resist but cum too, sending yet another load of thick, creamy cum inside her warm pussy.

She shivers, completely limp in the two women’s arms, but smiling happily. Then, a hand moves to her back, pushing her forwards and onto Freya.

She whines as the strap slides from her aching, stretched ass, but smiles quickly when loving arms wrap around her, guiding her to suckle at Freya’s smaller chest as she cockwarms her.

A good girl today, indeed.

Annah watches for a moment, biting her lip and stroking her wet strap almost like she could feel it herself.

Then, remembering they have an event to attend to in just a little bit, quickly moves about and lays out a beautiful, red dress. Skin tight, and rather short, but just enough to cover all of Daniela that they want covered. So what if she can’t bend forwards without exposing her cute panties? She has no need to, anyway, not with her two lovers by her side.

Daniela moans as she sucks eagerly, her pussy occasionally clenching around the warm, wet dick inside of her. This close to her lover, she feels so warm, so comfortable, so happy.

She almost doesn’t notice it when her other girlfriend approaches them again, still wearing the blindfold and being utterly distracted worshipping the woman below her.

That is, until she feels something large, pointed prod at her stretched, warm ass. She squirms immediately at the cool feeling, then gasps when she immediately realizes what item is held to her hole.

But- they’re about to head down!

“Anna-A-AAH! Aannnmmn…”, she gasps, her futile, almost innocent worries entirely lost to her when the plug is pushed into her, filling her to the brim again.

She gasps when her cheeks are slapped next, groped and massaged until only a little bit of the plug’s black gem pokes out between them.

Then, she whines as her hips are lifted and Freya slips from her. Instead, another toy is brought to her privates- her pussy, this time. She momentarily sucks on the nipple in her mouth a little harder, her own ones throbbing beneath the clamps.

Annah drags the dildo against her girlfriend’s pink, wet folds for a moment, then bites her lip as she pushes forwards. The toy sinks into Daniela slowly, but easily too. She chuckles when it’s in until- one would think- the limit.

Blindfolded, the Dimitrescu sister has no way of preparing herself when the thick knot suddenly pushes into her, can only moan and groan helplessly as she’s held down and her hair is stroked lovingly.

She gasps and cries slightly, unused to the sudden stretch, and when she feels a tongue lick them from her soft cheeks, she knows it’s Annah, the more sadistic of her two girlfriends.

She feels as the panties are pulled up, hiding the two naughty toys plugging both her holes up effortlessly.

When the blindfold and the clamps are removed, she’s lifted back to her feet besides the bed, stumbling a little in her black heels, her orgasm and the toys in her making it far more difficult to walk than she thought.

She giggles a little when Annah steadies her, sending her a loving smile. The red dress is put on her and she blushes again, immediately noticing how it barely goes over her ass cheeks and will undoubtedly pull up and reveal her panties should she bend down or even lean forwards.

Contrasting her look, her two lovers wear a black dress with a witchy hat and a worn down uniform that is so covered in blood from the time Daniela would hug Annah while covered in head to toe in her latest victim’s juices and guts, the outfit can almost be mistaken as a butcher’s clothing.

Lastly, Daniela almost whines when her leash is removed, yet blushes when the thick, hardly subtle collar stays on just when she’s guided towards the door.

Mother’s party proves…eventful. Daniela giggles as she dances with her lovers, blushing and smiling at the many eyes set on her.

Being naturally flirty, Daniela usually accidentally triggers either Freya or Annah’s jealousy, and this night is no different. Only does the beautiful woman not even have to send flirty smiles and giggle adorably, for her revealing outfit is enough to pull plenty pairs of eyes her way.

Across the room she sports first Cassandra and her lover, then Bela and hers. She frowns a little…they didn’t even approach her to say hi!

Still, she doesn’t allow herself to let that shock her, is almost about to head over to Bela when Annah’s strong fingers wrap around her petite wrist and pull her back against her.

“Not tonight”, the woman warns wisely, chuckling to herself at Bela’s flustered expression. What Daniela doesn’t pick up, her two girlfriends do;

Bela’s squirms, her flushed face, her anxious look. Clearly, there is more to the situation, and they both snicker when they catch a glimpse of her lover’s hand subtly sliding across her chest.

Then, there’s Cassandra, looking visibly flustered and uncomfortable. They catch it when her lover’s hand tugs lightly on the far too naughty looking tail connected to Cassandra, mentally scolding themselves for not coming up with such an idea themselves. A plug is cute, the black one even large enough to stretch Daniela slightly. But a visible one? One out in the open, yet not enough for people to truly know it’s a plug for sure? Oh, what an opportunity!

Clearly, they aren’t the only ones to play with a Dimitrescu sister, tonight.

Time passes, spent standing and dancing slightly, drinking wine and giggling. The young Dimitrescu feels herself grow more and more aroused with each moment, the knotted dildo slipping from her slightly and only held in by her tight, black panties, now.

Daniela gasps as she’s led back to the middle of the room, subtly pushed into a group of maidens dancing. She knows, her possessive lovers would never share, not with another but the two of them.

Still, they only watch as the tipsy women surround her immediately, cooing and smiling at her thanks to the confidence the wine has granted them. Of course, none would dare approach a Dimitrescu otherwise, especially as they are all taken by a lover, or two, already.

In their tipsy state they seem almost forgetful about that, grabbing for Daniela’s hands and pulling her to them, some hugging her, others hungrily admiring the skin tight dress.

She blushes as she’s moved with the music, her lack of a bra allowing all the maidens around her to see her hard nipples poke against the tight, red dress.

The two women allow it to go on for a few minutes, well aware their girlfriend is naughtier than she seems. Poor Daniela is blushing adorably whenever one bumps into her, gasping when another grinds against her backside and she clenches around the toys inside of her.

Perhaps it was a bad idea- or a very good one, really- to tell her girlfriends of her more…exhibitionistic desires. She was rather thinking of playing at the table, or perhaps in front of one of the other…not this!

And still, with her cheeks warm and painted in a pink shade, she can’t help how utterly wet and aroused she is.

Even surrounded by the dancing women, tugged and lightly danced against, she’s overly aware of the pair of brown and green eyes watching her.

Then, when one of the women gets a little too handsy, too intoxicated to think clearly, they step in fast. She doesn’t even notice the hand sneaking around her waist, the fingers reaching out to trace the hem of her dress, only gasps when the hand is caught by Annah’s strong one and Freya pulls her to her. Pressed up this close against her, Daniela feels the bulge in the woman’s dress, blushing and biting her lip. Wide, eager golden eyes look up at her, suggesting some fun.

In an instant, Annah is by their side again, looping a single finger through the ring at the front of the collar adorning Daniela’s neck. She ensures the tall woman standing by the other side of the room isn’t looking, then tugs her precious youngest closer to her, her words hungry;

“We’re done here”

She’s tugged along, Annah’s fingers closing around her upper arm, Freya’s hand clasped in hers and her hand at the small of her back guiding her along.

Daniela giggles as the two hurriedly pull her along, clearly eager to get going. They don’t even make it to their room before Annah lifts her, her tongue effortlessly dominating the one of her girlfriend. Freya snickers at the display, but can’t deny the ache between her legs, either.

She opens the door for them, subtly sliding her fingertips along their bodies before she pulls at Daniela’s short dress, eagerly tugging it up and revealing the bulged underwear that almost seems to match her own.

The woman is set down on the bed yet again, her panties all but ripped from her by greedy hands, gasps and moans passing soft lips as the toy is pulled from her entirely, leaving her pussy almost uncomfortably empty.

She eyes her lovers hungrily as they undress, cock and strap revealed, large and heavy and smaller, more petite breasts revealed to her. Eager to match them, she tears her dress from her, growling in light annoyance when her sharp nails get stuck in the tight fabric. The two women laugh, amused at the irritated buzzing coming from Daniela’s flies, but eventually the immortal woman finds Freya lovingly cupping her cheeks while Annah gently pries the sharp nails from her dress.

“Our little bug, let us do the undressing, you just can’t get it right”, Freya teases, but her words somewhat hold truth.

Between having sharp nails and being utterly spoiled, Daniela is rather used to personal maids taking her clothes off for her. These usually being Annah or Freya, all too eager to help their spoiled girlfriend out of her clothing; only does it sometimes come with a prize. A delicious, fun little game between the three of them; they would do something for Daniela, who’d have to repay them by sucking their cock and strap or fingers. It’s only a small role play, but one they all enjoy at the right times.

Now, they have no time for such things, feeling far too eager to take one another already.

She giggles when she’s fully undressed at last, her heels tossed away carelessly, her partners’ naked bodies pushing against her own.

This time it’s the blonde who tugs her down, first laying down herself, then guiding the eager redhead towards her face. Daniela bites her lip as she’s guided to sit on it, moaning and smiling when she soon feels her lover’s talented tongue flick expectedly against her clit.

Her hips are grabbed by petite, but decently strong hands, keeping her right against the woman’s face as she licks at her, starting at her clit to lazy and sensual licks through her soaked slit, even occasionally flicking up against the plug still nestled deep inside the sensitive woman.

So lost in the pleasure, Daniela almost doesn’t notice it when her other lover moves to her, only gasps when she’s tugged down and almost in a 69 position on top of Freya.

In front of her face and pushed against it, she finds two cocks, one glistening wet already, the other still clean, but clinging tight to Annah’s hips.

“Awhh, what’s wrong? Scared they can’t fit in your mouth, princess? Clean them, slut”, Annah instructs, leaving little room for arguments at all. She laughs when Daniela bends down slowly, alternating between sucking her two girlfriends off while her pussy’s eaten.

She moans around them, sucking eagerly on Annah’s strap while her blonde lover leaks against her cheek, her cock aching at Daniela’s taste and the sounds of her slurping and gagging around the large strap.

Again, her head is held in place by her hair, her mouth wide open for the strap taking up every last inch.

“Mghmnn!”

The two women chuckle when her thighs begin to shake already, her nipples hard as they occasionally brush against a pair of smooth legs.

She’s so close again, her pussy overly sensitive, Freya’s tongue far too good against her sensitive little clit. She sucks harder at both cocks, whimpering and looking up at the dominant dark haired woman, as though begging for permission.

When the hands move from her hip to spread her a little wider, her head spins, and with her mouth stuffed Daniela’s moans are properly muffled when the plug is played with.

Her girlfriend pulls at it lightly, tugging just enough for it to slowly slide backwards, before she pushes down in the middle of it and it slips back into her girlfriend effortlessly.

Daniela moans and twitches as this goes on, the movement paired with the laps at her clit enough to quickly push her towards another orgasm.

This time, she’s given permission, though all her moans and screams are muffled by the large strap in her mouth.

She’s held tight against Annah’s hips by her hair, moaning around the strap and whining when Freya continues. Already, she’s so sensitive, squirming and whimpering helplessly as her thighs are held again and Freya drags her tongue deep into her warm pussy.

She reaches down automatically, wrapping petite fingers around the curved cock of her lover and pumping quick and hard. Just the way she likes it, just the way she knows it feels good for her darling.

Annah watches them, her eyes wide, shivering at the sight below her. She sees the arch in Daniela’s back, her cute ass cheeks pink from the earlier slaps, blonde hair barely visible between her legs. She sees and feels the drool dripping from her face, made to deepthroat her strap in a way that makes it difficult to breathe through her mouth or swallow.

They love it.

The more overstimulated she gets from having her sensitive pussy eaten, the faster she jerks Freya off, gasping, gagging, choking adorably around the strap down her throat until her cheek is patted and she’s reminded to breathe through her nose and open her throat for Annah.

Teary golden eyes look up at the woman as Daniela attempts to speak, but all her words are muffled and slurred, the sounds not even passing her lips properly and the forming of words nearly impossible with the strap pressing down heavily on her tongue.

She can’t beg for mercy, can only squirm and moan and press herself against her lovers hungrily as she’s brought to the edge again,

and again,

And again.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #oc annah #oc Freya #lesbian #Annah and Lauren would get along well #hoping this will do well

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!

I just wanted to say that I absolutely love all of your COD fics! Your Price fics made me fall in love with him (I saw a recommendation for See No Evil on TikTok and just went down the rabbit hole from there (it’s also my comfort fic)) and Laughing Poets made me buy Ghosts for Keegan. Your writing is so beautiful and poetic and has inspired me to start writing again after a really bad writing’s block!

I also did want to put in a request for Ghost (because I love him so much) but given his hype, I understand if you don’t want to write for him or if it may be hard. But I was hoping that this hasn’t been done before (much) and that I could read it in your words since you are so amazing!

I was thinking of the reader being a CIA agent that was working undercover to get classified information and 141 was sent in to extract her after she was compromised. And her and Ghost don’t really get along at first, like they don’t hate each other but they could just care less about one another. But then they get separated and one of them is injured and the other fights tooth and nail to get to them, realizing how much they care. I was thinking that her callsign could be ‘Reaper’ but it can be anything else if it fits better. It can be angsty (because that’s the absolute best genre), fluffy, nsfw, whatever you want to do with it.

I know this is asking a bit much and I’m sorry for that. Feel free to change it as you see fit and do whatever you want with it, if you want to do it. I really appreciate and love your work!! Thank you!!

'Til it Hurts

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: This duology will be 18+ and contain the following: intense gore, blood, violence, vulgar language, angst, fluff, suggestive content, (smut, p in v sex, virgin!reader (relevant to plot) all in part 2), abuse of power in the past, toxic working environment in the past, copious flashbacks, soft!simon because I love him like that (I guess considered ooc), banter, etc...

A/N: Part 2 will be posted tomorrow after I edit it and the link will be added to this part as well for ease of access. But, anna, that's wild that people post about my work on tiktok, lmfao. I'm so glad I helped you out of that writer's block, though! Enjoy part 1, Love (I did change it around a bit)!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You often think of the friends you had when you were six. The neighborhood you grew up in was full of other kids your age, and there was practically a horde of young boys and girls outside at any given moment. Early mornings were ripe for adventures – ears perking up from your pillows at the sound of bird songs and lawnmowers like an instinctual call to cause mischief. Days would run long and nights would end late with games of tag.

It was inevitable, at this point in your life, to not think about where your friends would be now. Were they happy? Starting families and getting married on island resorts; white sand underfoot and a gentle lapping of ocean water? You’d lost contact a long, long, time ago – never bothered to get back in touch, though you know things might be better if you had.

God, you’d never have friends like that again.

Selfless. Genuine. Without competition or a need to stab each other in the back. Friendships built on a childlike innocence that was never meant to stay or grow with the brutal stretch of years. People mature. They harden, sharpen.

They break themselves to fit a mold of what they want to be without even realizing…Or maybe that was just how you grew up.

Your feet pound against the cobblestone streets of Bergamo, Italy, as you make your way through the packed road of the Upper Old District. Under your chin, your fingers go up to grasp the scarf around your neck and pull the thick navy fabric up farther. Fast eyes flicker over faces as a fake plastered smile splays over your lips, and your jaw holds a tension that seeps into your shoulders.

Keep the act up, you have to remind yourself, fingers heavy at your hips, don’t let the facade slip, or else it’s over before it begins.

At your sides, past the unending sea of loudly speaking humans and loyal animals alike, the broad expanse of ancient architecture calls to the history of this city; red-terracotta roofing, extravagant greenery, and pillars as tall as the buildings themselves. A picturesque land filled with mysteries lost to time, stories never told beyond the scratch of a pen and moth-eaten parchment.

A city now filled with killers.

“Sitrep,” you grunt into the open channel, the earpiece fizzling as it sits in the clutch of your canal. No one answers and, slipping past a family of tourists, you glare at the ground; heart going so fast you feel like it could jump-start a car. “Damnit!”

The seconds draw on and as you pick up the pace, now shoving your way through the crowd, you feel eyes on you. Slithering over your skin like oil.

Not good.

Shit. Karver, where did you go!?

Karver ‘Rigs’ Massarini was an informant – someone who’d been giving you everything that you needed to know about the cell in this area; along with a grouping of eyewitnesses to a stash of ICBMs. A stash that could do some serious damage if they stayed here with the wrong people. Intel suggests that those very missiles were going to be shipped off to Mexico in only a few days, smuggled across the border into United States territory with the intent of doing some pretty awful stuff and framing the US.

If you and Rigs weren’t quick with this, so many innocents would suffer.

You’d already gotten into contact with Mexican Special Forces yourself, warning Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra of a possible breach and to watch for any unregistered shipments on the docks or coming in from the air.

But now Rigs was missing, and you had a funny feeling you were being trailed.

Back alley. You take a quick right, boots slamming to the ground and heart hammering. Get away from the civvies in case someone decides to go trigger-happy.

This cell was known for being deadly, Mr. Massarini had sent the file over to CIA headquarters before you were shipped out; Laswell had set you on it right away without even taking the time to read it entirely.

��Extremely high Kinetic; I’m giving you full Execute Authority on this, Reaper. We’re running out of time. Find those missiles.”

Torture, kidnappings, mutilations, the list went on for this group and how far they would go to keep secrets. No one had gotten any clear insight as to what their motives were – just that they needed to be put down in exactly the ways they had been doing to others. Ruthlessly, before they grew bigger or spread their influence beyond borders, and created a group that could rival what Al-Qatala had been.

So that was where you came in.

God, you wished Farah and Alex were here with you – at the very least you could rely on them to help, even if you sectioned yourself off from others more than a dying cat. There was a reason you preferred being sent in alone with only your wits.

Mostly because of situations like this.

“Rigs, sitrep. Where are you,” you try again, the close walls shrouding in your shadows. Throwing looks over your shoulders, you take down deep breaths, a growl gradually digging itself a hole in your esophagus. Desperately, you say, “I’m heading back to the safe house ASAP. Wait for me there.”

Your right hand gravitates to your pocket, slipping through the fabric and pushing aside the ripped seam at the bottom. The sheath at your thigh pinches you with every step, but you’ve endured it for years, calluses breeding where the leather had chaffed the flesh to toughness. To an ingrained perfection. Flinching when your fingers bump against the handle, the metal adornments feel cool to the touch despite the sweat dripping down your spine; temperature and nerves leaving your palms sweaty.

None of this was going to plan.

You caress the small Dirk blade strapped to you, and when the first footsteps enter the alleyway behind you, your hand clenched into a loose fist around it. Your eyebrows pull tight with annoyance.

Taking a slow breath as the trailing stranger begins to move faster, you take a corner, halting the second you were out of sight. You nonchalantly turn on your heel and lean into the wall, feeling your body conform to the building and the stone dig into your back.

The material is cold, and as you raise your Dirk up, you flip the blade parallel to your forearm, wrist lax, and fingers still. A slow breath flows from your barely-parted lips.

3 seconds. You don’t blink, only gazing out across the space and noticing the dark shadow gaining ground. 2…1…

Your body jerks forward, free hand snapping out and grasping the fabric of a shirt. Twisting your hips, you plant your feet and wrench the stranger around the corner, breath coming out in a loud snarl. Without a shout, you have the person’s back shoved to the building in an instant, blade held above an Adam’s Apple.

A man, then.

“I’m going to give you one full minute.” Your Italian was only surface level – far better at understanding others than speaking full sentences. But you think whoever this man is comes to a conclusion well enough. “Before I cut you open and watch the life spill from your eyes.”

You don’t recognize this person, his sharp face or dark, sly, eyes, and with a quick assessment of his large stature you figure out he’s the basic definition of a man sent to complete a job. One that would have left you dead if you were anything less than a contracted CIA Agent on a job. You had been trained among the best from your time in the Marines – years on Special Ops forces; taking point. Even if they were the worst times of your life, you still learned a great deal from them, particularly, how to know when to cut your losses.

With one look into his smug face, you know that this stranger would tell you nothing.

Your lips formed a grimace, teeth flashing under flesh at the rod-straight form of the man under you. He was smirking with eyes seeming to be laughing at you. Arrogant. Self-assured.

“You’ll get nothing out of me, Reaper. We are already on your trail.” Your head tilts, a numb huff escaping your throat and pushing the individual's hair back as a breeze would. There was a small pause; tiny shiftings of your feet as your blade digs ever deeper.

A thin trail of blood falls from the placement, and your muscles writhe under the epidermis. There’s no thought behind the laugh that enters the air, that cold, dark, thing that’s more of a bark from a hellhound. It was just a realization that no matter where you went, there could never be anything unique anymore. Everyone was always the same.

“You’ll never get it out of me-”

“Break my bones; rip my flesh, you will never make me talk-”

“If you want to see me beg, you’ll be disappointed-”

There were countless memories you could bring to the precipice of your mind and re-live; moments ingrained into your psyche like a tattoo is to skin. So you can only smile and nod, scarf swishing around your neck. The man looks confused now, if not slightly nervous. That self-assured attitude leaking to the ground. Eyes as dark as obsidian beginning to snap back and forth – looking for a saving grace in the make-up of ancient stone that wasn’t going to come.

You wondered how many people had died in this city throughout history. The stories lost to time. Have these alleys seen war? Famine?

Have they seen murder?

But you are a woman of your word. A minute passes in tense silence, your eyes never leaving his own and ears carefully in tune, twitching like an antenna, to the joyous shouts and laughter just a street over. Here you wait like a rat in a trap, though you like to believe yourself more of the metal Hammer than the unknowing participant in a dance of death and wits.

You tighten your grip on your Dirk, shrugging up at the man. Your face is nonchalant as an understanding smile grows. As simple as a server at a restaurant.

“I believe you.” And you run the knife’s edge across his flesh like a match to a striker before he can scream.

Stepping back, you’re suddenly thankful for the scarf over your sweat-slick neck because as the spray of blood splatters over your nose bridge and forehead, you swipe it away with one of the ends of the thick fabric. You let the body drop, watching large hands snap to the gushing wound like that alone would stop the cold grip of death.

Your mark has been met.

The External Carotid Artery was easy enough to cut, though you had to dig deep for it, and it seemed the man had moved mid-slice. Frowning while the man gasps and gurgles; flails as a fish would, you study your work as you flick the blade clear of blood. Your brows furrow.

“Nicked the Thyroid Cartilage, hm.” Sighing and shaking your head, you sheathe the Dirk and twist on your feet, still intent on making your way back to the hotel safe house and trying to find a lead on Rigs. The slumping of a body reverberates a moment later, a grandiose death rattle, and still, only a street over you hear animated conversations – the bustle of traveling feet, and the sound of the breeze.

You often think about the friends you had when you were six. But, now, instead of being the one who fought off the monsters at the ends of the beds, you had become it. The monster. The boogeyman.

The Reaper.

Oh, what would they think of you now?

You swipe at the blood along your fingertips, seeing the red bleed under your nails with such a numb feeling that it scares you more than anything. Taking down a gathering of saliva that feels more like a slug in your throat, you wonder when you lost the ability to value human life. Of course, the answer was slated in those early years in Special Ops, but you don’t dwell on those times.

In fact, it was better if you never thought of them at all.

Taking a left, you hum a tune under your breath and listen to the birds sing as the blood dries.

—

The meeting room wasn’t even a room, just a vacant air-craft hangar that had been fitted out with two rows of metal fold-out chairs and a projector. Shadows danced over the floor, long streaks of darkness over concrete.

“...I’ll be giving you full Execute Authority – but this mission is completely Black. Host weapons only. No Evac team.” Laswell’s voice echoes off the ceiling, and Ghost’s eyes flow over the projected intel, memorizing the faces and locations with nothing more than a blink of his blue eyes. Fluttering eyelashes caress the hard material of his mask before settling.

Task Force 141 was being sent off on another deployment again, deep into Belarus and near the Russian border.

“Time frame?” The Captain asks, standing a small distance away and leaning against a crate of ammunition. His arms are crossed; jaw is loosely set.

Kate looks at him, above the heads of Gaz and Soap, and nods her head before she comments, “one week.”

Gaz huffs from ahead of the hulking form of Ghost, and the silent man shifts his attention back to the group.

“One week, Kate? No offense, but we don’t even know if the bastard’s in Belarus.”

“‘fraid to get dirty there, Garrick? Ah, we’re good enough for it.” Soap elbows the male at his side, and the masked man releases a puff of breath one row back. The Scot twists in his seat, mohawk tendrils falling over his forehead, and smirks. “C’mon Lt. back me up here. We’ve got this in the bag already.”

“Bit confident, Johnny?” Ghost grunts out, accented voice low and muffled from under the black fabric over his lips. His hips shift over the chair, legs splayed and arms crossed as he reclines back; letting the bulk of his gear weigh heavy. “Just wait until you’ve got us sitting on a pile of dry leads and rotting corpses.”

“Eh, nothin’ we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Focus, you three.” Kate interrupts as Gaz rolls his eyes to himself, fixing his ball cap over his head with a fast flick of his wrist at the antics of the other two. “You’re going to be shipped out at 2000–”

An easily recognizable ringtone starts to play.

Blinking in surprise, Laswell takes a glance at the table that had been long forgotten and spies her phone buzzing over the metal. Her light brown hair, kept securely tied back, swished at the nape of her neck. She wastes no time.

Briskly walking over, the rest of the men in the room watched intently, heads perked up. Ghost couldn’t stop the pique of interest at the strange behavior, though his form remains still, only making a noise under his breath in contemplation. In the hold of his crossed arms, his fingers tighten.

“Not the person I’d imagine keeps her phone on for just anyone…” Gaz makes a slow comment, and John slides up beside him, hands hooking onto the sides of his combat vest. Watching.

“Hm,” their command affirms.

Kate picks up her phone and immediately answers, brows furrowed. She shifts her weight as an inhalation reverberates. The conversation on the other side was too muffled, a small droaning the only signal that someone was on the opposite.

Unconsciously, Ghost straightens in his chair as the rolled-back sleeves of his undershirt leave his black ink tattoos on display. A deep intrigue spilled in his chest but otherwise, he was still focused on the previous instructions for the next Op. This was just another cog in the wheel, perhaps a location change for their safe house, or an accelerated timeline. No matter, they would get it done regardless–

“Reaper?” Laswell speaks, and blue eyes slide to stare at the Captain, whose legs had tensed. “What’s happened–”

The Lieutenant knows something was wrong just by the simple fact that he’d never seen their Station Chief talk on her personal phone with that look on her face before – he’d seen it mirrored on the Captain and he’d clocked it from her just as simply. The wrinkled skin at the side of her eyes, and stiff-set lips peeled back in a frown. She’d always been serious, but the air was different.

Reaper? He runs through the database of his mind and ignores Gaz’s and Johnny’s muttered words and glances.

“Now who do you think that is, then?” Soap grunts out. Ghost doesn’t answer.

Brows furrow.

Sounds familiar, the man can’t help but admit.

“Patch me through. Now.” Kate slips to the computer a few steps away and opens a fresh tab, sorting through files and months of intel as if it mattered just as much as a bug under her heel.

“Kate?” Price prompts. The woman only holds up a finger and keeps the phone in between her shoulder and cheek, hands fast across the keys.

Soon enough, a feed pops up on the projector, and the three previously sitting all rise to their feet in an instant.

An open wound is in the process of being stitched and displays itself over the entire available space, violent red internal flesh puckering over the edges of…Ghost narrows his eyes, unphased.

Was that a fabric needle and thread being used for sutures? Resourceful, he admits.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” The manchester man levels thought the blandness of the tone contradicts itself. “Where’s this feed from, Laswell?”

“What the fuck…?” Soap growls out, and the Scot blinks at the screen in shock as the Brit beside him lets off a sound of disgust akin to a sick cat.

“Reaper, sitrep.” Kate doesn’t flinch, rushing off into procedure as steady hands delve back into flesh, blood falling from their fingers like water to splatter to a rundown wooden table. The world-away computer was most likely getting a rain of crimson all over the keys at this rate.

Price grunts under his breath.

“Shit,” a distinctly feminine voice wafts out, a harsh sigh held back, though the annoyed tone was noticed immediately, “can’t a girl stitch herself up in peace? Besides, Watcher-1 answer me this, huh?” The computer is jerked, its screen going staticky as Ghost watches with roving eyes to take in the background when the visibility returns. A bed, nightstand, and sitting by the floor of the front door, copious amounts of weapons. The man takes stock – an M13 assault rifle, X12 handgun, and Arctic .50 sniper rifle. Ammunition lines the floor in a way that leaves Ghost’s lips thinning under the mask.

Someone’s in a hurry. But from what?

“…what goddamn hotel doesn’t have mirrors in it?” Kate’s sigh can be heard a mile away. “No, I’m being serious here, Watcher – how the hell does that happen?”

Watching you take a step back, Ghost as well as the other three all blink in surprise when you come into view. Your top was off, only a sports bra covering your flesh, as your focus stays on the digging needle you send into yourself over and over.

Yet again a feeling of intense familiarity strikes the Brit in the chest. Your soft face, your hair, your voice. It was infuriating.

Who are you? The inability to call forth a memory leaves the fists at his sides gradually clenching under his gloves.

“Reaper.” Seriousness grows in the Agent’s voice, and Price lets out a slow chuckle that leaves Gaz turning to him in confusion.

“Sir?” But the inquiry is ignored.

“Still as stubborn as ever, then, Reap?” Everyone sees your hurried stitches stop, head snapping up as they clock a veiled panic behind the iris’.

Your eyes tell all the story they need, and Ghost’s body freezes as the color evokes a physical twitching of his hand.

“Holy hell,” he utters under his breath so silently no one even realizes he spoke; eyelids pulling back before settling like nothing had even happened.

“You know, you're the first person who’s been nice to me out here.”

“...Then I’d tell you to get better friends, Sergeant. I’m not sticking around.”

“I never said they were my friends, Ghost, and I never expected you to stay, anyways. That’s not how this works.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Bravo-06?” You ask, voice sometimes cutting out over the line. A laugh breaks out, and a small smirk twitches the corners of your lips, “Hey, Old Man, how’s it going over there? Been a while.”

“What have you got yourself into now?” Price asks, chuckling under his breath with a groaned continuation, “and how do you need me to get you out of it?”

The spectral man now watches with a newfound fervency, blue eyes boiling so violently that if anyone had seen, they would have thought he was about to attack. Like a split second of eye contact with a wolf before it rushes. The build of his shoulders was still loose, however, and the only indication of shock was his optics; the mask shrouded all.

But there was a subtle movement of his hips, feet transferring over the floor to stand shoulder-length apart.

“Oh, this,” you point to your injury with a free finger, tying off a knot on the last line of sutures. “Nah, it’s nothing. A couple of assholes tried to get the jump on me a block back, one had a knife on ‘em.” Your hand tosses the needle and thread to the table, a muttered, thunk, sounding off. Looking down at your work with a raised brow, everyone watches. “Took care of it – they gave me a name, too, but with the trail of bodies I left today, I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t pan out.”

A pause before you turn your head back up, face now completely serious as you focus on Laswell.

“But we have a bigger problem, Watcher. Rigs is gone; I think my position’s compromised. I’m going black.” Your form leans to the side, and a wrinkled t-shirt is thrown over your head. From your mouth, a stifled groan releases. Ghost blinks in surprise.

The Captain’s lips thin, and he looks at a tight-wound Kate.

“I have a contact in the lower levels, Reaper, meet up with her and she can have you out of the city by tonight. I’ll send over her info.”

“No can do, Watcher.” You sigh, and Ghost simply stares, following your figure as you back up, heading to the X12 and shimmying it into the back of your pants before looking over your shoulder. Kate hums under her breath. “If they’ve got Rigs,” Walking quickly back over to the computer, one of your hands grasps the top of the frame, thumb poking out from the corner. You tilt your head. “I ain't leaving without him right behind me. I’ll be in contact in a month – if I’m not, then I’m dead already.”

Your chuckle strikes a cord through the room and Soap snorts in answer.

“Glass-half-empty kind of person, then?”

“I’d say,” Gaz mutters.

Continuing, you’re about to say something else – lips already partially parted and breath sucked in – before your eyes lock onto Ghost. The atmosphere of the room flips like the page of a book.

You stare at him with what seems to be a million emotions flying past the glossiness of your optics; lids already peeled back and whites showing in a display that showed more than told. The man could only begin to imagine what you were thinking – how long had it been since he’d seen you last? You’d obviously gotten out of your Marines Special Ops unit.

Not quite how I remember you. It wasn’t hard to recall that small branch of the MRR – Marine Raider Regiment – and how they treated you. But that wasn’t any of his business. He’d been there to do a job, and he’d accomplished it. Quite thoroughly, if anyone would have checked the file after it was all over.

Ghost’s life was counted in the sands of an hourglass, small, molecular, bits hitting the bottom one after the other; rarely was that time wasted on pointless squabbles and words but at that moment, he was conflicted.

The Brit had never expected to see you again, and the sand briefly halted when you spoke. Hm.

Yes, he remembered that voice… he’d just never heard you this confident before.

“Ghost.” He watches the emotions on your face settle, and he was thankful for the mask covering his visage because he knows he would have left at least a small twitch of his lips slip. “Long time no see.”

“Mutt.” The Lieutenant nods in a monotone greeting but notices a slight jerk of your shoulders at the name. His eyebrows furrow, but mentions nothing as his pulse slows.

Your neck moves as you swallow, looking to the side as a dark curiosity fills the space in Ghost’s lungs; head nanoscopically tilting to the side like a vulture.

“Nice seeing you, Bravo-06,” You tilt your head toward the Captain before clearing your throat and addressing Laswell. “I’ll be around.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that the title had made you freak, a kind of bad cloud suddenly springing to life above your head.

Seems to bother her more than being in a Hot Zone, Ghost tells himself, the deep well of dark water in his gut still. That didn’t make any sense. He watches your hand slaps over the computer and the feed goes dark in an instant.

The room is more silent than Ghost is.

“Kate, she’ll need our help.” Price shakes his head from side to side; body moving to the front of the room. “I’m not asking.”

The two talk it over as Ghost’s mind trails, head tilting down more towards his chest as his eyelids narrow.

“Hm,” He grunts, arms tensing as his grip shifts. Soap turns around as Gaz goes to join the conversation between the Captain and the agent.

“What? Know ‘er or something, Lt?” The Scot asks, slapping a hand on the taller man’s arm. Ghost eyes lock on the grip before he blinks, looking back up and leveling the Sergeant with a dead stare. Johnny laughs awkwardly and moves his limb back to his side. “Just…didn’t peg you for the type to start relationships.”

The Lieutenant turns down the aisle of chairs and lets out a bland, “negative. Leave it, Sergeant.”

Why did you react badly to the namesake you’d gone by for the entire time you’d been in Special Ops? Mutt was when everyone had called you when he had been around for that short time.

He felt no great concern for you – no hatred or care – you were just another Agent that would probably end up dead like everyone else. Another time, maybe, he’d have gone in a heartbeat, and if the team decided to go after you, he’d follow. A mission was a mission, it wasn’t like it largely mattered.

But there was something in the back of his mind. Intrigue? Yes, perhaps. The blue-eyed Lieutenant wasn’t one to dwell on these types of things, but a colleague was still a colleague.

Whatever the outcome, he’d do his job with all the ruthlessness and tact he always did.

Ghost’s hand goes up to fix the position of his mask and glances at the blank projector stream, eyes boring into it as they darken. A moment later, he was leaning against the ammunition crate that Price had previously been on, arms crossed and ears twitching at the ongoing battle of wills; isolated to himself as his intimidating form towers ever upwards. Spine straight. Bones stiff. Eyes grim.

You’d been nice to him – a person that, for the limited time he’d interacted with, had left an impression that was only just starting to come back full force. Smart and resourceful; not too bad on the eyes.

He takes down a sigh. Stubborn…but undoubtedly loyal.

His thumb brushes your cheek, and you look up at him as if he wasn’t the one in a mask – as if his entire being was laid bare before you. He swipes away the trail of blood with one firm press. The gentleness of your skin is known even through his glove.

“You’ll live, Sergeant.” He utters, teasing in his monotone voice, “now, where the hell are we goin’? Gun’s itchin’ to lay a few out.”

Ghost would have smirked at the way your eyes dilated if he had the ability, but in the end, he brushes past. Because if he hadn’t, you would have seen his own do the same.

‘Reaper,’ he frowns, feeling the ammunition crate dig further into his hip, they never called you that one.

Perhaps the real battle of wills was happening inside of him – not five feet away between his Captain and his Station Chief.

—

You remember every interaction like it was yesterday, and although he might not, you can’t help the memories from flooding as you gather your gear. Stuffing guns into duffel bags and intel into crossbody sacks that weigh you down like boulders.

Fuck, you open the back window and shimmy out into the back streets, knowing that your position is compromised and not waiting any longer to test your luck. Your side burns something awful; horrible stitches peeling back skin as you groan in pain. What the fuck was Ghost doing with Price? I didn’t know they knew each other. And the two other men in the room…eh. Not the problem right now!

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you pant, swinging your legs out of the window frame and sharply inhaling when a suture tears. “I’m never in the loop.”

In all honesty, you don’t want to be – too complicated. It’s better to just stick around and be told what to do.

Glaring down at the ground with glazed eyes, you only take a breath of hesitation and let off a curse before dropping.

Your knees take the brunt of the force, and the ricochets of landing on cobblestones travel up your ankles and leave your legs shaking. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you would have come up with a dirty joke to mutter to yourself.

The discomfort can only last so long, you tell yourself, and ignore the spreading liquid on your side, only thinking of Rigs and the mission.

And Ghost.

Gritting your teeth, eyes vulnerable, you turn down the backroad and stay away from others, drowning in memories more deadly than blood. It had been a while since you had thought of it – the lockbox in the back of your mind keeping all under tight watch; guard dogs with metal teeth and chained necks.

But that title; that namesake you’d scrubbed your skin raw over. Mutt and all the others said in cruel breaths. Oh…but Mutt.

Mutt was the worst of them.

Your hands were vibrating, the tremors traveling up your wrists and arms – past elbows and bruised flesh under skin; bloodied nose and quivering lips. Why did they always yell at you? But worse, why did they always make you do the dirty work?

The Captain, everyone just called him Alke, was standing in front of you, berating your accuracy on the last round of target practice. Fortunately, this deep into the Unit itself, you’d found a way to let it go in one ear and out the next, eyes as blank as a starless sky.

You could see the spittle flying from the man’s lips and some even splashes across your cheeks like acid, but there was something artful to the way you didn't react. A culmination of crafted numbness that bleeds like trauma. It was a constant, everlasting, void.

What they were making you into was not what you wanted, but what possible other option was there? Resign? No, this was nearly an unimaginable position to be in at such an age. You deserve to be here. Should you report the blatant unprofessionalism and favoritism in the ranks? And be blacklisted by these people's friends so that you never ascend the line?

Your ears twitch.

“...You’re not sleeping until your marks are perfect – else we’re overthinking your position in this Unit. Can’t have a Mutt in our ranks, can we?” The last sentence is punctuated with a ruffling of your hair almost like a brother would; teasing, but you know that isn’t what it symbolizes. Harsh laughs and mocking remarks from the bystanders. “Least of all one that’s gonna get us killed. Tch.” When you don’t answer, staring off in a daze at his nose in a perfect image of formation, the Captain raises an eyebrow. “Affirmative,” he smirks, “Mutt?”

“Sir!” Your mouth shouts, though the action is more instinctual as your back straightens. He frowns at that, perhaps wanting to torment you more, but huffs and files out, ordering the rest to follow with one last call.

“I expect you to be up for morning drills an hour early. I’ll be checking your shots myself.”

“Sir!”

After everyone’s gone, you blink back to reality. There’s a second of confusion, creases forming in your forehead at the sound of birds and blowing glass. Head turning side to side, your lips thin at the absence of others as if only realizing how spaced out you’d actually been.

Flashing teeth and heated eyes flash through your mind before you blink them away. Signing away the tense nature of your chest, you clear your throat and relax your legs. Your vision slides to the corners of the concrete dugout, snapping past sectioned-off areas for privacy to search if there was someone who might have stayed back.

Not finding anyone, your hands, clenched behind your back, loosen and fall limp to your sides like bags of rock. One weakly goes to swipe at the trail of blood from your nose, wrecking your already wrinkled sleeve with crimson; but soon an identical trail drips off your chin regardless. Licking your lips and tasting copper, you take a shaky breath and nod to yourself.

You knew what shooting all night would bring on – lesions under the firing pad covering your shoulder; deep-rooted pain leading to nerve damage later on. Blisters that leak puss and blood onto your bedsheets. Not to mention the mental strain, the bags under your eyes burn from lack of rest.

Gritting your teeth, you walk over the tossed rifle on the floor and pick it up with shaky fingers, the tips flinching back from the cool metal before encompassing it tightly.

Silently, you get on your stomach and set the weapon in the crook of your already pain-laced shoulder. Your blood splatters the stock.

—

It had been two weeks with no luck in finding Rigs, and you were starting to get paranoid.

Staring at the dead body tied to the wooden chair, you growl and tear your Dirk from the woman’s chest angrily.

There had been increased police patrols from all the corpses you were leaving, so you’d compromised and limited the chance of being caught at the same time.

Bergamo, Italy, was an ancient place, and the underground was what you were now both metaphorically, and physically, exploiting. Sewer systems. Catacombs. You’d lost track of the paths you’d taken a million times over, and had started to hate the constant darkness only kept back by the small hand lamp you’d stolen.

But there were ups to this constant downward slope.

It made interrogations increasingly easier to pull off with multiple feet of stone all around you. The screams don’t meet the surface.

“Catello Tullio,” you mutter, caressing your sensitive side with your free hand and placing your blade on a turned-over piece of rock. The area reeks of blood and gore, a stack of bodies chucked carelessly in the corner beginning to reek something awful; even as you have another to add to the count. It wouldn’t be long before the rats came in droves.

Another given name, another score. But this one was new. Apparently, the title of the one that took Rigs while he was out getting more rations in the market.

You point a finger at the slumped body, “you better hope I don’t find you in hell if you gave me the wrong damn name.”

Grabbing your light, you stalk off down one side of the tunnel back to your camp, dodging drag lines that strike your eyes with their crimson streaks.

The raggedy blanket and gun-sack you’d been using for a pillow take form in the dark, and somewhere in the corridor a rat squeals; feet pitter-pattering until it disappears altogether. You didn’t even want to think of the spiders living down here. Files and notes are strewn along the floor, perfect hiding places for eight-legged monsters.

You couldn’t do anything until nightfall. It was just too risky.

Massaging your side as you bend down, you grimace at the partially healed wound and scoop up your pistol before plopping to the ground with a grunt. With the deadly object held in your lap, you take a moment to breathe and try to push away a growing headache in the back of your skull.

“This has to be one of the worst Ops on record, huh?” your small voice speaks back to you in bouncing waves of echoes as you begin to fiddle over the gun's small grooves and dents. “How did you manage this, Reap?”

Smiling blandly, the overwhelming quiet and nothingness all around you is like a curse. And in those pockets of a void, your mind always trails to him – or at least it had been for your time on the run. Ghost. That dark and brooding mass of horribly bleak humor and…well…you couldn’t call him mean.

Your eyebrows furrow.

He was never mean to me.

There were soft instances where you would question yourself as to if the Brit had possibly had some affection for you. It wasn’t a long shared history of course, but you had sworn that there was something about the way he looked at you…something that you remember so vividly…

You shake your head and stand after a small while, stretching your feet. Placing your pistol in the back of your belt, the weight brings you dull comfort.

Shining your light on the hand-held radio on the ground in passing, you rove back to it after you scan the perimeter. Its black metal mocks you.

No one’s coming to help ‘cept you. One voice says, and another grunts out, get it together, Mutt.

You turn on your heel to go and take a breather to disperse your dark thoughts but only make it three steps before your eyes widen, lips parting in awe. Nearly falling flat over yourself, you whirl around in an instant.

A static enters the air as if the gods above were laughing at you - toying with your fate like it was a rock tossed to the sky. The familiar British drawl causes your chest to tighten, though the sentence is broken and barely understandable.

Someone’s here for me! A smile slashes your face – fierce hope lighting your eyes. You hadn’t wanted anyone to explicitly come for you, but this was a welcome discovery. Someone to talk to!

“--eper…Copy?” Darting like a cat, you move so fast that you stumble over rocks on the way there. “Lead…cafe…red cloth…Out.”

By the time you snatch the small black object, the garbled and firm tone has already shut itself up. Your mouth parts.

“Shit!” You yell, shaking the thing in your hand with an iron grip, hissing like a snake. You look above you at the cracked ceiling of stone and a growled accusation.“I’m too deep…Fuck. Gotta get up there if I want to be able to respond.”

But it hadn’t all been fruitless. Lead. Cafe. Red cloth. You clip the radio to your belt and make sure your shirt covers your weapon; pat your thigh and tell yourself to stop forgetting your Dirk everywhere before setting off in a jog. The light flashes over dead eyes and stiff bodies.

You snatch the blade off of the stone as you pass it, slipping it into your cut pocket and hearing the satisfying clink of it sheathing.

“Let’s just hope I don’t smell too bad…” You say aloud, chuckling, and listening as the sound echoes off the stone. If no other company, you still had the sound of your own voice.

You couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. But, you were getting side-tracked.

A Cafe with red cloth, then. Not exactly the place you’d go for an intel swap, but if someone had been trying to contact you for more than a week, you’d imagine they were getting desperate at this point.

If I had known…you frown.

Thinking over the multiple blueprints and pictures of the city in your files, you go through your internal cabinet of knowledge for color schemes - not what you’d have thought you’d be using it for, but, oh well. A lead was a lead.

“Golositá!” You laugh, sudden glee on your face as you dodge a pile of large stones; lips peeling back as you take a fast corner. “Gluttony! Of course, that’s the place.”

The bustling business on the upper side of Bergamo with red table cloths as well as red awnings extending into the street. Anyone would be a fool to miss it.

Like blood lining the street.

You force yourself to run faster.

—

You met him last, despite being a Sergeant. The Captain had you up late last night yet again – running the forest trail this time rather than shooting. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it surprised him when you were still up early with the others; from the looks that he was giving you, you just decided that, yes, he was. Or he was just pissed he didn’t have an excuse to get rid of you.

Blinking away fatigue, you keep your stance relaxed as a gargantuan shadow comes to loom ahead of you.

The man everyone had whispered about called himself ‘Ghost’ and, if nothing more, was certainly intimidating. Shoulders wider than a bench, arms as rounded and as strong as boulders; not to mention the tattoos that made him look like he took cross-country motorcycle rides in his spare time. Tan tactical gear and dark patches for the SAS, the red and white British flag. Gloves covered his large hands, straps carried knives on his biceps and thigh. Something akin to a tan cape that was loose around his hidden neck.

But the mask was what really caught your attention; your head tilting with an innocence that no longer lives in you.

Skeletal. Half a visage of a dead and gone intimidation of humanity. Sewn into a hood of black cloth from which only the eye sockets were open…But the eyes there were no different than if the holes had been empty in the first place; as if the person inside was as dead as sun-bleached bone. Was a corpse piloting this suit?

Ice blue. Freezing blue. Harsh. Colder than a grip of a phantom, you thought as you blinked up at him, colder than the nights you would stay awake working yourself to death. You watched this Ghost’s chest move in a steady inhalation and you stuck out a busted-knuckle hand. Foolish, maybe, but there were worse things to be afraid of than a mask. Then of those eyes that made your spine shiver.

But you didn’t look away.

“Pleasure, Sir.” There was a moment of tense silence where your Captain, at Ghost’s side, was frowning at you silently. The man could say nothing as long as this SAS member was here to assist in your next Op overseas. At your sides, your colleagues on the tarmac shuffle on their feet like nervous penguins.

Ghost glances at your hand, and you try not to show how fast your pulse is running when his eyes leave a cold trail as they grace your split knuckles and torn nails. He ends with a slow look at your name patch.

“Sergeant.” He says and slips past without another word. His shoulder brushes against yours, and you inhale smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. Snickers bounce off air particles, striking your ears as an embarrassed heat rises to your cheeks, but that scent stays in your nostrils for days.

Your Captain scurries after.

“Erm, forgive, Mutt. She’s a helluva strange woman, that one.” You keep your sneer hidden, a hiss lodged in your throat and a twitching finger. But your anger isn’t directed at the masked beast that stalks away. That yapping bully of a Captain would hold all of it as long as you were here.

At that point, you were sure you’d seen the last of Ghost until the Op – not really getting the feeling he’s a people person so much as a ‘give orders and follow them’ type.

But that was fine by you, it didn’t change anything. You’d been told to go back to the firing range tonight for opening your mouth and ‘making an embarrassment of the Unit’....whatever that meant. All you did was welcome the guy with the barest hint of a good attitude.

You supposed manners were a foreign concept around here.

The world ahead of you was blurring, red circles in your eyes that gloss over with water every minute you force yourself to stay awake. The stars were out, sky dark, and the area was only lit by large lights situated around the base. In some sort of strange way, you enjoyed the sound of crickets and the cold breeze over your bare arms as if the only sense of peace you got was when you were half-passed out, nailing shots from a rifle.

The stock was where it always is, your cheek pressed to the side; staring down the scope at the multiple holes in the paper targets. Dots surrounded by multiple other dots like a slice of cheese. You suppose that made you the hungry mouse in that case.

‘A mouse with a fucking day before she drops.’ You frown, blink, and pull the trigger as the trees rustle. The force lands directly on your shoulder – the kickback is usually not one to bother you, but seeing as your appendage was one bad day away from being dislocated and forever damaged – you took it with a grit of your teeth.

And you took it because you knew you could. Just as you knew that you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your neck. Freezing, you remove your finger from the trigger and loosen your grip. Turning your head to the side, a free hand goes up and shifts the ear mufflers from your head to your neck in a single movement.

You swear your heart jumps to your throat when you see a skeleton’s icy blues numbly watching you; arms crossed while a nice-looking SA-B 50 Marksman Rifle sits against the wall at his side. How…long had he been there? Watching?

“What’re you doing, Sergeant?” Ghost asks sternly, that Manchester accent making him sound harsh. Grating like a rock being run against concrete. “I’m sure your Captain wouldn’t be thrilled at a scene like this, eh?”

Blinking, you remind yourself to breathe before answering – voice tough and hoarse.

“I have my orders, Sir. You’re free to join me.”

You turn back as a grunted huff falls from behind muted cloth. Ghost walks up to your laying form, standing on your left side and picking up the binoculars from the hanging hook in your station. As you look back through your scope you don’t know why, but you hold your breath; waiting for something.

“...Not a bad shot. You’re prone to firing more to the right, judging from the grouping. I’d fix that, less you miss a moving target runnin’ the opposite.” He lowers the object - staring from the side of his eye. From your position, your neck cranes to see his fingers twitch. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” For someone you’d expected to be quite harsh – though you had no doubt he still was – Ghost was more sarcastic in his mannerisms.

Backhanded comments that wound sting if you got on the other end of them.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.” Shifting your grip, you move the stock farther up your shoulder, feeling an immediate release of tension, though the expansive trauma still leaves needles in your tissue.

“Hm, pay attention and you just might learn something.” You feel yourself quirk a lip for the first time in months; your mouth doesn’t stop to think.

“You mentor a lot of people in the middle of the night, then?”

“Only the ones stupid enough to be awake.” He takes a step back, going to grab his own rifle as his footsteps don’t even make a sound.

‘Quiet for a guy with thighs that could choke me out.’

Your brows furrow at the heated thought, taking a slow breath and flexing your hands as the shadow disappears from over you. Why were your hands sweaty?

Were you…afraid? That…that wasn’t it.

“You’re up too, you know, Sir. Bit hypocritical.” This was the first time you’d had a full conversation with someone since you’d gotten in with this Unit. A mildly pleasant one, at least…you wouldn't really call this bonding.

“I can always leave ya’ to it, Sergeant.” Deadpanning the words, you clear your throat and fall silent at the threat.

‘No,’ you wanted to comment, ‘no, I want the company so badly it hurts.’

You swallow saliva and reposition your ear mufflers back over your head, heart bruising your ribs, as you bring down a calming breath of air to still your nerves.

The two of you don’t speak again, and you don’t ask why he takes the shooting cubby right next to yours, the nose of his rifle peeking out from the concrete wall. You certainly don’t ask why he’s up, either.

And in return, he doesn’t ask you the same.

—

When you find Golositá you’ve managed to sneak through the city unseen, taking every backroad and alley you could as the heat of the day increases to near sweltering. Panting, you stick to the thin shadows of the path across the street, eyes dancing over red cloth and flicking to faces; studying visages as one would a medical report.

Your chest hurts, and you run a hand over your side, feeling the raised skin under your shirt before digging into the aching ribs. All this running around and little food to help keep your normal strength was troublesome, and it would only get worse if this Op from hell continued.

I need new intel. Badly.

About to retreat, not finding anyone you recognize off the bat, a black-shrouded figure kisses the side of your vision as if a phantom.

On the outside table, the farthest removed, a man sits stiffly with an untouched teacup in front of him. Smirking, you can’t help but scoff at the thought of Ghost using the thing – you’d think his thumb and forefinger would break the delicate porcelain in an instant. Like a spine over his thigh.

Your cheeks heat.

He looked almost identical to what you remember – minus the gear, obviously – and your stomach twisted at the thought. Was a simple look enough to bring you to the breaking point? Why were your lungs tight?

As if feeling your stuck eyes, those icy blues shift from people-watching to lock onto yours immediately. As hollow as they always were, it seemed. He blinks and the blonde eyebrows on his sliver of visible forehead move.

Shit. Your hips trade weight. Look at you.

Loose shoulders under a rugged buttoned-down and painted balaclava make your breath go thin, not able to resist sneaking a glance at those tattoos you remember so vividly. Yes, that was still Ghost.

Jesus, is this how it felt to see someone you barely even remembered suddenly appear? Was it elation or caution that was making your heart race?

Ghost doesn’t look surprised. His eyes don’t widen; don’t soften or light up. They blankly watch you as you shake away the shock and raise a brow in return. A sarcastic finger goes to your head, and you mock salute.

What are you doing? You seem to ask, a mischievous expression growing as you start forward when he dismissively narrows his eyes. You look ridiculous. Are you asking to be spotted?

The man leans into the too-small chair he sits in, one hand going to hang off the back and the other resting on the tabletop. Gloved fingers tapping morse in slow measures.

Clear. Come here. He follows you with his gaze, head stationary, as you enter the flow of traffic, smiling at people at your sides and letting off polite greetings when you could. Steadily striding, you weave through groups and individuals like water, legs steady even as your ears pick up every little sound.

A comfortable middle point of visible excitement and strict business. Why were you so…happy?

When you approach Ghost’s table, you slip up beside him with a sly chuckle, pulling out the chair to his right. You, softy, lower yourself down into it, not turning to him but instead simply making sure no one had followed you with a quick scan. His heat only adds to the warmth of the day like a walk through damnation.

“Well, well, well,” you smile, addressing the SAS member with his shadow hanging over you once more; such a heavy thing, though you don’t mind. Your expression mellows to have it above you again. There was a safety to it, you had to admit. The cold comfort of death. “Trip to Italy, Sir? Take a little vacation?”

“Came to bail out a bird from my past,” You smell that scent again – smoke and ash; gun-cleaning solvent paired with a canvas tent. Dirt and metallic blood. “And if I ever went on a vacation, I sure as hell wouldn’t pick this place. ‘Bout to burst into flames; traumatize a few kids and their mums.”

Hadn’t he changed even a little bit?

“Now that’s dark.”

“Never said it wasn’t.”

Of course he hasn’t, you answer your own question, feet shifting and skin pliable, why would he? He isn’t like me – didn’t have to reinvent himself based on atoms and in the wake of silent nights.

There was a piece of you that believed that Ghost had always been this way, though you knew it was false. Nobody in this profession was just born like this, they were led to it. Whoever it was under the mask or balaclava didn’t matter anymore.

They had died a long time ago.

“Not a fan of the history, Brit?” You tease, bringing up a hand to itch at your undereye, finally taking a peak at the form that nearly swallows you.

Your lids try not to peel back, but you didn’t realize how close you’d sat next to Ghost – any closer and you would be in the crook of his arm; the relaxed spread of his knee bumping into yours and arm over the back of your seat. Trying to act nonchalant, you ignore the strange swirling in your gut with a hum and a twitching of your leg.

Stop that.

“Don’t care a smidge, just not a fan of the damn heat.” The gruff man responds with his inked arm on the table flexing, as though he was tenser than he showed. Ghost clears his throat, “needs a good downpour, eh?”

“Try living underground for two weeks. Literally. Sun’ll feel like a blessing.”

“Fuckin’ hell…That’s why the radio wasn’t working, then.” While this was all cute – re-learning each other like a shaken puzzle – there were dangers to being this open. The Brit would be fine, but if you got spotted, well, there would be worse things to worry about than an achy side and a pile of bodies in a tunnel.

“You got something for me, or are we here just to stand out like bullet holes in a forehead?” Feeling his head tilt to you, snaking down your form, your body leans forward, palms sweaty as they lock on the table. “Price with you? The other two I saw on the feed?”

“Negative. Op in Belarus. Sent me in alone.” Your knees brush, delicately; like a touch of down feathers. You refrain from taking in a shallow breath, knowing he’s analyzing every movement with a hidden mouth and gentle huffs of air that rises his sculpted chest. Through a grunted sigh, Ghost tells, “The Old Man insisted. Laswell thought you’d be alright by yourself, regardless,” and falls silent.

What was he doing? Why was he talking with that rasp in his tone? Your heart swells at the comment about Kate, but a confusing feeling settles in your lower body. Why did the air feel thick?

The warmth of the sun was making your skin perspire, leaving a sheen of sweat over your arms. But the thought of heat stroke fled as you became hyper-aware of the man beside you, keeping careful not to touch you, though his gaze still bore into the side of your face like prodding fingers anyways.

He can’t quite figure you out, he admits to himself. So much of you was different – and he couldn’t tell how.

She’s lighter, he tightens his face, not the same as when I left.

But there had been an utter satisfaction when he’d seen you in that alleyway, even if you were different in a million ways, that would never change. Ghost’s body had loosened, his clenched jaw let go, and snappy answers to servers stopped entirely.

Because those were still the same colored eyes that he remembered. He takes a long breath.

Through the haze under your creased skin, a red alarm starts to sound off. Not because of the confusing way you felt the chilled form of Ghost on a near internal level, but because of the hooded individual across the street.

When your eyes lock, they back up three paces and bolt down the adjacent street, vanishing into the crowd. Your expression darkens, and Ghost shifts his attention from your face to the streets.

His eyes blankly follow where you were looking.

“Come on,” you get to your feet, hand snatching at the SAS member's sleeve, dragging him with you as a mother would a toddler. It was ironic – if he resisted, you wouldn’t be able to force him to move, not in a million years, but he slid off his chair with fluid muscles.

He doesn’t question you when he’s brought into an offshoot of the road, vacant of tourists or locals besides a stray cat and a few scavenger birds. Flies jump off garbage cans, buzzing through the air above your heads as you level Ghost with a serious stare.

You nearly stumble over your words when you get to look at those long blonde eyelashes that you remember heatedly, but push through as they move to half-lid his blank eyes. Your heart skips beats as you spare looks up and down the space.

What the fuck is going on with me? Focus. This is serious.

But, Jesus, he should really stop looking at you like that.

“You said you had a lead over the radio – anything on someone called Catello Tullio by chance?” You ask, voice like stone.

“Tullio?” Ghost hums in the back of his throat, all business, hips moving under him as he goes to glance at the street. His balaclava moves as he speaks. “Someone made a mention of it. ‘Fore I put a knife in ‘em, ‘o course.” Nodding, he huffs out, “On me.”

Turning on long legs, he starts to walk farther down the path, and you follow at his side, peering up and eager to gain more intel. “You’ve caused quite a panic around here, Sunshine. Cell’s terrified of the ‘Reaper.’ I’m nearly impressed.”

He briefly flashes an optic to you, heart betraying him as he remains locked on your lips. Rotating his jaw, he turns back forward.

“Oh, my,” smirking slowly, you roll your eyes, “whatever will I do without your approval, great Ghost.”

“Dunno – kick the bucket probably.” Shaking your head in false annoyance, the slow, mocking, stain in the man’s tone leaks into your very DNA; coating it with honey. Like a warm sunrise, you clock a small hitch in his chest and equate it to muted chuckles when you laugh.

“Don’t go placing bets, now. I’m not so easily broken.”

“Oh, wouldn’t think of it, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t be my handiwork if it happened,” his tone goes light, “don’t wanna take credit away from you.”

“Brit.” You spit with fake venom.

“American.” He grumbles back, but you clock the small spark in his iris, cold blue bouncing silver light like snow.

He sounded…entertained? Snide in a sarcastic way.

Your mouth rises in a stupid, dopey, grin as you stare from the side of your vision, chest jumping in easy comedy. What a strange pair you two were, but you find you liked his company even more, this time around.

Or maybe he had changed slightly. Or maybe it was just you.

At the end of the day, you were relieved that it was easy to talk to him. Conversations with corpses are a bit one sided, after all.

Ghost’s lips had to be at least quirked under that dark fabric to achieve mischief like what he was spitting out, you leveled with yourself. At the minimum, the man wasn’t annoyed he’d been forced out of his own primary mission because of you.

You remember he wasn’t averse to cracking jokes – particularly dark ones – but it had…it had never felt like his before.

Strange, you admit with a raised brow and a cocked head, cheeks burning for no apparent reason. You’d gotten him to chuckle? Holy hell, you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that. I’d think he would be pretty pissed about being sent here. He’s never been one to fuck around.

You both continue in easy silence until you decide to speak once more, intent on asking where you were being led.

Ghost’s head had perked up in what you assumed to be soldier-like attention, but then his head had whipped behind the two of you. Oblivious to his shift in mood, like a dark cloud, you open your mouth.

“Well, where are we–”

“--Get down!” Hands slap on the back of your arm and jerk you to the opposite wall as a loud echo rings out. Whizzing over your head so close that you feel the breeze of it.

Gasping, the air is expelled from your lungs in one fell swoop; your spine grating over the rough stone as your legs scramble to keep upright. Wiping away the shock quicker than an eraser over a whiteboard, your neck snaps to the problem; brain already hardwired to get over being shot at and the adrenaline that floods your veins immediately after.

Across the way, Ghost’s fast hand was reaching to the back of his outfit – without a doubt going to grab a concealed weapon. Eyes fiery and arms tight. And as though you were seeing it happen in slow motion, you lock onto the hostile in the middle of the alley back the way you both came. And then onto the hooded silhouette ahead of you.

Boxed in.

Hyperfocused, all of it happens in only three seconds, two trained professionals protecting each other without even realizing it.

One, you realize how this will have to play out if you don’t act immediately. You don’t know how you can trust Ghost to take the other hostile while you focus on the one ahead, but you don’t question it. Two, your gun lays heavy in your hand as your legs pivot. Three, you fire double shots with a loose finger and hear mirrored gunfire from the man beside you.

You don’t bother watching him drop.

Snapping your head backward with a rageful expression to see Ghost’s corpse hit the floor with a cracking of a skull, shouts start to ring over the city. When you lower your weapon, you turn to notice the Birt examining your own downed hostile with a satisfied stare. If you hadn’t had his back, he would have been shot in it.

But what you didn’t know was that he was thinking the same thing about you.

Turning to stare at each other, your widened eyes lock; fingers twitching along the cool X12’s metal as those stormy iris’ only seem to darken further when they dart to your lips. Like staring into a wild animal’s gaze and pretending you’re not in a trance because of it – stuck in that moment of infinity and nothingness with not a single muscle moving. Waiting for either a mouthful of fangs around your supple neck or for the beast to turn away with grace and practiced steps.

You swore Ghost’s mouth parted under that damned balaclava, but whatever he was going to say was lost when the world came back in a violent storm of screams. Panicking, you gape at the entrance – seeing multiple shadows shoving through the crowd to get to you.

“On me!” Keeping your pistol in one hand, you bolt, hearing heavy footsteps pounding behind you as your mind begins to run.

Ghost trails without a single doubt in his mind as to why he’s following you, and it makes him cautious.

Catacombs, you decide, get under the city and backtrack to the outskirts. Survey and have Ghost tell me his intel before making a move…yeah!

“Where are we headin'?!” Ghost shouts, keeping right your heels as you turn corners. Gunshots ring over your heads as you jump up small groupings of tile steps, blood pounding in your ears. You try to remember the maps you had stored in your files underground. Left…no, two rights. Shit! I need to be higher – see the streets like a bird would! “Reaper?!”

“Do you trust me?!” You call over your shoulder, and though it seems deranged, a smile forms over your lips. “I’ll need an answer in the next few minutes, yeah? I’m on a time crunch!”

“What are you on, Girl?” The adrenaline speaks to you, propelling your legs faster and faster. You vault over a fallen trash bin and take the shock to your ankles as it travels to your thighs. Snickering, you feel the brooding man’s presence like you always could – just beside you like a loyal hound. His focus excites you as you put your gun away in the small of your back. “Bloody hell! Not giving me a choice?”

“Not if you don’t want to get shot in the ass!” Taking one more right, you find yourself rapidly approaching a dead end, tall walls, a balcony, and a large dumpster – the flap already closed overtop. Not answering the man as he barks out a comment, you throw yourself atop it with a puff of breath and spasming lungs.

Laughing, your hands don’t falter. Reaching up with eager fingers, you grab at the black metal front of the balcony a small distance above and suck down a hot breath. Your arms strain, sickly sweet sweat on the top of your lip, and eyes wide with glee despite the gaining footfalls rising like a battlefield cry. Jerking your body up with only your upper-body strength, you slide your abdomen over the railing with barely a second passing. Once your feet are firmly on someone's property, you twist around and slap your hands to the metal with a twinkle in your vision; face wrinkled with all the animated amusement.

A wide grin is stuck on you.

Ghost stares up with slightly widened eyes from the ground, arms poised on the garbage bin.

Oh, hell, when she smiles like that…

“But I can’t judge, can I?” Teasing, you extend a helping grip with a smirk. “Everyone has their fetishes, hm, Ghost? Maybe yours is just having a gun pointed at you.”

He blinks at that, but knowing the urgency in the back of your throat, he pushes himself up with a grunt. You try not to watch his muscles strain, but spy the way the veins in his forearms grow larger as his alluring hips flex. They situate themselves under him as he crunches before straightening in an instant.

Fuck, don’t drool, you scold, lips lightly parted like seven devils were flying in the back of your mind. Jesus, imagine the weight those things can carry…shit. Wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to that.

A leather-coated hand slaps into your awaiting one. You snap back to a screaming reality and stare down into hypnotic sheens of ice and…wait…did Ghost have fucking green flecks near his pupils?

“You sure it isn’t yours, Sunshine?” He harshly comments, and his balaclava moves with a rising of his eyebrow.

Clearing your throat, you murmur a weak reply as your face begins to feel like a blazing fire, squeezing his limb before pulling. He chuffs. Grunting violently, you know he does most of the work in helping himself up, though the Brit still slaps your shoulder in comradery when he’s stable. Kneeling down, he forces himself into the wall behind the two of you, fingers weaving to create a cuff over his knee.

Tossing his head up, he motions with urgency.

“C’mon. Be quick ‘bout it.”

Catching one foot in the basin of his clutch, you force down your illicit thoughts about Ghost and jump, pushing off with your opposite leg on his shoulder and his added boost. Scaling the wall, you arch and scramble - with a growing bite in your side – to the terracotta-shingle roof.

Following after and checking your six, the beast of a man joins just in time.

Shadows dart around the corner far on the ground, and the both of you are speeding animals over the rooftops in the meantime. Against better judgment, boots pounding the tiles, you release loud bouts of genuine laughter.

How long had it been since you’d had such fun? Enjoyed someone else's company like this? Running across homes, you look at your side, only to find Ghost’s eyes already digging into you. Unrelenting. Unmovable. Panting, you smile brightly, giggles making your sides hurt something awful but your pace doesn't slow for an instant.

All it took was a glance at the streets – you know where you are now.

“Enjoying yourself, Reaper?” He asks, arms pumping and barely winded, and you wonder for a moment how he breathes under that covering of his – it had to smell horrible by the end of the day.

“For…the first time in ages, Ghost.” He chuckles at that, and it is a betrayal of his nature. How could someone so violent, so cloaked in oceans of blood, produce such a soft sound? A genuine sound that makes your stomach flip?

His bewitched eyes rove back in front of him, and he can’t deny the simplicity of speaking to you. It wasn’t a chore, just a conversation with a person who he wouldn’t mind having on 141 at his side.

There were few people worthy of that.

You swallow thickly and take point, leading the shadow of death to your home underground so you can re-evaluate.

You can only wonder why you don’t feel nervous as he watches over you, skin marked with horrors but his hand had fit so well in your own. And you also wonder how you can come to care for someone you haven’t seen in ages so quickly, as if you’d both been around each other for years.

Had you really ever forgotten him? Or just tried to push the affection, both emotional and physical, for him out? But that was the problem, you tell yourself with a clenched jaw, that physical attraction. All of that was just…tied into a million knots. Complicated.

You’d never had sex before.

And, Ghost questioned himself as he watched your legs move, did he forget you out of necessity? Because those eyes of yours won’t leave him alone, and he so very much enjoyed looming over you.

He sighs heavily and follows in silence.

—

When you first joined them, they all created rumors. This was long before you were permitted solo Ops, long before half of your file was filled and bleeding with black ink that would shame a warlord. When everyone just thought you were signed up because you were some unhinged kid, brimming with unchecked problems and willing to throw everything away just for the chance to prove yourself. Who got into it for kicks.

They would say you enjoyed it, killing. Reveled in it, really. That it got you off when you were covered in blood and crimson guts as they pooled at your feet.

You suppose that was what turned you away from sex in general – those heavy comments said with no remorse that stuck with you. It was fear almost, a genuine twisting of your mind to make it your fault. It wasn’t your fault, you knew that; you could sleep with anyone you wanted and the comments weren’t a brand on your skin.

You could forget about it. You should.

But the words were so mean. Just cruel for the sense of being cruel. And it stuck with you.

If that was all anyone would see, why try and force them to look away? You kept to yourself, never spoke unless spoken to, and shoved all of it down like a kill switch. No sex, no relationships. Nothing to make you think about the rumors.

Getting off on death? You were horrified at the concept, horrified that people would play around like that with you – with your life!

You just ended up telling yourself you wouldn’t feel it until it hurt too bad. In a way, you were right…but you can only force emotions down for a while until they break forward like a fist to the mouth.

Besides Mutt, they had many names for you – titles and backhanded monikers. Rabid. Demon. Devil. Monster. Sometimes, beast.

But they all had the same meaning. Inhuman. Wrong.

It shouldn’t have bothered you that much. It…It shouldn’t have made you stay up at night still thinking about the way they would laugh and pinch your arms as you were left shaking; drowning in gore not your own because they sent you into the heart of the Hot Zone for a few jokes. Teasing you about how you probably touched yourself because of it.

But it was just an excuse to make you too scared to leave. Your reputation…

“There’s that Devil for ya’, always ready to slit some more throats for us. You think you could do the next few, Mutt? You’ll love it, I know you will. I’ll give you a good report if you do it without alerting the guards – see there… ‘Course you will. Fucking freak.”

Your eyes stare forward blankly, Dirk leaving a dotted fluid trail over the dusty ground.

Why did they do this to you?

TAGLIST SIGN-UP || Here

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(sorry that some of these don't work! I have no idea why!)

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httpsryu · 1 year ago

Text

muse? pt. 1

pairing: kang haerin x fem newjeans!reader

summary: getting a new member way long after debut and a comeback isn't really the best idea to haerin

genre: enemies (?), angst and fluff

warnings: a bit frustrating and A LOT of jealousy

a/n: once again, thank you for the love on kites! feel free to request :)

Haerin could only stare blankly at her manager upon getting informed about a new member getting added to the lineup.

"But we're working on the new comeback right now." Minji confusedly states, wondering why ADOR would last-minute make a rash decision.

The older woman nods, understanding and knowing the members would react this way. “I understand that. We all do."

"Not only are we being put into this situation but she is too." The unofficial leader voices out her concerns. "We've already shot everything."

Hanni nods in agreement, along with Danielle letting out a hum.

"I'm sorry girls." Their manager sincerely says. "But she's coming tomorrow and there's nothing we can do about it."

Minji could only nod in defeat.

"Once she arrives, we'll be in more talks of what's going to happen to this comeback."

What?

Does this possibly mean that the comeback could get delayed? Or worst; cancelled at the last minute? All because of a new member that all of them just NOW got told about?

NewJeans isn't NCT.

So why does this team has to suffer because of a new addition? Haerin cannot process it at all.

"Do you guys think she's pretty?" Hanni asks once their manager left their dorm.

Hyein smiles brightly at the thought of their new member being a very pretty girl. "Hehe~"

The oldest member shakes her head in disappointment, smacking Hanni's arm for having an influence on Hyein.

"Everything okay, Rin?" Danielle tugs on the arm of the feline-like female.

Haerin could only let out a fazed nod. "Yeah. Just need to get used to this."

"Promise me that you are all going to behave." Minji sternly states, precisely looking at both Hanni and Hyein.

The Vietnamese's mouth drops, offended by how the elder perceived her as. "BRO? WHAT?"

The new member hasn't arrived yet and Haerin is over it.

Here they are, all five of them sitting in the living room while huddling over a table to sort out for new roommates. Minji says it's only fair that way, whatever that means.

Haerin wants to protest with the oldest's idea. She liked being roommates with Hanni. Why should she have to change roommates because of a random stranger?

"I want to dorm with the new member!" Hanni raises her hand immediately, earning a gasp from both Danielle and Hyein.

Minji clicks her tongue, crossing out Hanni's name off the paper. "Definitely not Hanni."

"Why not?" The bang-haired disputes, pouting.

"Because you'll end up flirting with her and making her uncomfortable."

Haerin doesn't get it.

How are all the members calm about this? Were they not afraid of their careers?

"More like you're keeping her for yourself!" Hanni argues.

The leader glares at the girl who just said that. "Bro?"

"I think I'm going to dorm Hyein and Hanni together." Minji mutters to herself while writing down on the scratch piece of paper.

The youngest lets out a cry for help. "Why with her?"

"Excuse me? Like I want to dorm with you too!" Hanni crosses her arm, starting to throw a tantrum.

Minji sighs, rolling her eyes at their antics. "Haerin, I'll have you and the new member dorm together, alright?"

"I get to dorm with you?" Danielle squeals excitedly, attacking Minji with a hug.

Great.

Not only does Haerin have to suffer the idea of NewJeans suddenly becoming a 6-member group but now she has to dorm with a complete stranger.

All five girls hang around in the living room, waiting for their manager and new member to arrive. Any one of them has their ears perked up, listening closely for a knock to echo any second now.

"I'm a little nervous." Danielle speaks, linking her arms with Hanni.

Haerin could only scoff in her mind. She presumes that everyone is making a big deal about all of this.

"I am too, don't worry." Minji relieves a sigh, knowing that it wasn't only her who felt like this as well.

Great; the moment Haerin was dreading since last night.

"She's here!" Hanni excitedly breaks free from the other Aussie member, running to the door.

The others run to where Hanni stand as well, with Haerin slowly trailing behind the rest. Everyone breathes in and out to calm themselves down, shushing one another in order to not scare the new addition to the team.

"Ok, I'm opening it." Hanni warns the members, slowly turning the doorknob.

Words cannot fathom in anyone's brains at the sight of you.

"Girls, this is Lee Y/N. She was transferred here from SM two days ago, specifically at Min Hee Jin's request. I hope you all welcome her with open arms and get along well." The older woman smiles, patting the shoulders of yours for reassurance before handing you off to your new team.

Right before you could object, your new manager has already run off to some other task.

Hanni nods brightly at the manager's words, with Danielle suddenly tackling you into a tight squeeze with her arms around your waist.

"Wow~ You're really pretty." Hyein giggles, not being able to look at you in the eyes.

You have got to be kidding me. Haerin rolls her eyes at how everyone is oggling at you with no shame. She could never be like them. EVER!

"You're squeezing her." Minji softly points out, rushing to your side to help grab all your luggage and suitcase before closing the door behind Danielle and you.

The Australian member gasps softly, letting go of you and muttering a bunch of "I'm sorry"s.

"You're all good." You smile in response, having everyone in the room swoon before turning to the taller who helped grab your luggage. "Thank you, by the way."

Minji's eyes widen, feeling her ears get red as she turns away. "Don't mention it."

"This has to be a joke." Haerin mumbles under her breath, mentally facepalming herself from the members' reaction.

"Y/N, this is Haerin." Hanni pushes the cat eyed female towards you. "She's your roommate!"

You bow, smiling at the female in front of you. "Nice to meet you, Haerin."

"You too." Haerin barely acknowledges you before walking off to her room.

Did you perhaps do anything wrong? Was it because you didn't greet her first?

Danielle gasps upon seeing your slight reaction, wondering what's wrong with her best friend. Maybe Haerin is having one of those days, it'll be okay, right?

"Don't mind her." Minji smiles reassuringly. "Haerin kind of keeps to herself but I'm positive that the both of you will get along."

The other four girls nod simultaneously with their "unofficial" leader's words.

"Don't stress about it too much!" Hanni gives you a warm smile. "Besides, Haerin likes pretty girls."

Huh?

"Hanni, don't scare off our new member." Minji rolls her eyes at the Vietnamese's antics, turning to you. "Let me show you where you'll be sleeping, Y/N."

With a small nod, you smile at the members before bowing to them and following Minji.

"She's so cute!" Hanni elbow bumps Danielle.

The other Australian nods along, squealing excitedly.

"She already seems cool." The youngest admires the idea of you leaving your old company to do something others wouldn't do.

august 21, 2023; publishing date

pt. 2 is out now!

#kpop x reader #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #haerin x reader #kang haerin x reader #kpop imagines

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kaleldobrev · 11 months ago

Text

Lie Down Sasquatch

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Taking a nap with Sam after a morning jog together

Word Count: 407

Warnings: Lots o' fluff

Authors Note: Just a cute & quick little drabble ♡ I hope you all enjoy | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Never...again..." you slightly panted, plopping onto your bed, stomach first, your arms landing on your sides.

Sam let out a hardly sounding laugh, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he started to untie his sneakers. "I didn't go too hard on you did I?"

"A mile is way, way too much when you haven't jogged since high school," your words sounding almost completely muffled as you spoke into the pillow.

"Y/N, you graduated high school not even five years ago," he grinned. "And you were on the track team. You were the captain in fact. A mile should be like a walk in the park for you," he said, patting your leg.

You let out a small groan as he patted your leg. "Ugh. Well, tell that to my jell-o legs tomorrow," you said, finally looking at your boyfriend. "I can't believe you willingly run three to five miles everyday. Why do you torture yourself like that?"

"Because believe it or not, it's good for you," he said, kissing your forehead before taking his sneakers and placing them into the closet.

"Okay, but at what cost Sam? Cause I feel like my lungs are bleeding," you said, switching positions to lying down on your back now.

He simply smirked at you. "I can assure you that you're going to be fine."

"You don't know that. I could die just like that," you snapped your fingers, and spoke in a very exaggerated like voice.

"Y/N, I've seen you get shot and stabbed in your vital organs more than once and you didn't die. You're not going to die from running a mile." He sat back down on the edge of the bed again, looking at you with one of those soft smiles of his. "Wanna go take a shower with me?"

"Can we take a little nap first?" You asked.

"And get our bed all sweaty?" He half chuckled.

"Wouldn't be the first time, and certainty won't be the last," you smirked, and switched back to your stomach again. "Now lie down Sasquatch," you said, patting the empty spot next to you.

"Yes ma'am," he smiled, deciding to lie down in the exact same positions as you currently were in: on his stomach with his arms underneath the pillow.

"I'll do the sheets after we take our shower," you mumbled; eyes shut. "Good night, Sammy."

"Good night, Y/N," he said, before shutting his eyes.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @roskar16 @savagemickey03 @grx-deanslovr @nancymcl

@syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @zepskies

@missscarlettangel @fuiabarcelos @sammysnaughtygirl @frozenhuntress67 @snakebxtez @crystalandphoebewifey @coldspoons @spnandpj @androah @somebrokeartstudent @1313ek

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#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn one shot #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #sam x you #sam x reader #reader insert #female reader #drabble #spn drabble #supernatural drabble

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nats-firefly · 3 hours ago

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choices

sorority!wandanat x reader

summary: Natasha never stays the night, what will happen when someone else shows interest - college au

warnings: smut 18+ only you are responsible for your media consumption, drinking, smoking, it gets a little angsty in the middle

a/n: THIS IS A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE FIC endgame will depend on your choices. (repost)

I was inspired to do this by @caws5749‘s 1k celebration where she also did a choose your own adventure type story (hers was very cool and is linked here)

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

header made by wickussy (iykyk) | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

Natasha has always been straight forward, especially with you. You knew that from the second she strolled into your apartment. Her confidence radiated off her and you were instantly drawn to her.

You threw the last of your clean laundry into your closet just as there was a knock on your door. Glancing over your perfectly and freshly cleaned apartment, you took a deep breath before reaching for the door handle and pulling the door open.

The air was almost knocked out of your lungs at the girl standing on the other side of the door. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked at you, her lips made a popping sound as she pulled the red lollipop from her mouth and reached out her hand, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Natasha,” Her voice was sweet and welcoming and the giggle that followed when you didn’t move made your head spin.

“Um, h-hi,” You shook her hand, moving out of the way so she could come into your apartment. “I’m Y/N.”

She walked in, looking around the small kitchen and connected living room. She needed to pretend like she was still making up her mind; she loved the pictures on the ad you put out and after taking one look at you she knew she had to have it. She had to have you.

“Why did the last person move out?” She asked walking through the hallway to the vacant bedroom. “Was it something wrong with the place?”

“Not exactly,” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck and following her down the hallway and leaning against the doorframe. She looked at you questioningly, tilting her head to the side as she sucked on her lollipop, your eyes dropping down to her lips momentarily before looking back up to her eyes. “She was my kinda girlfriend, but we broke up.”

Perfect, Natasha thought. “Bad break up?”

“For her,” You shrugged. You and Val started sleeping together very soon after you moved in, which went on for almost two years. Until she wanted to commit and you didn’t. She couldn’t take it, you were completely fine with the arrangement you had. Natasha raised her eyebrow at your response, before popping her lollipop out of her mouth once again and turning her body to look at the room. “She wanted to commit, I didn’t.”

“That explains the ‘kinda’,” She moved into the bathroom, looking over the sink then the shower. You moved back into the living room, waiting for her to finish looking over the place. She emerged from the hallway not two minutes after, waving the lollipop stick in the air, now empty. You pointed at the trashcan in the corner and she walked over to it so naturally, you’d think she already signed the lease. “When’s the earliest move-in date?”

“Um, next week?” You said.

“Perfect,” She said with a smile. “How do I apply?”

“You don’t have to,” It slipped out before you could hold yourself back. But if a goddess walked into your apartment asking to move in, you’d probably give her the keys on the spot. “If you want, we can go over the lease and you can pay the deposit tomorrow.”

Natasha smirked and made her way over to you, her hand gripping your chin as she looked into your eyes.

“You’re cute,” She said, before shaking your head briefly and letting go of your chin. She turned her body and found a sticky note and a pen on the counter, quickly scribbling down her number. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Things were so different back then. You couldn’t see yourself wanting to commit to anyone. And then you got tangled in Natasha’s web and everything felt different. You wanted more. More of her laugh, more of her lingering looks, more of her touch, more of her. It never felt like it could be enough.

But you knew she didn’t want more, she was completely fine with what she had. You were wrapped around her finger, always ready for her whenever she needed, in turn she tried to deny it, but knew she would be whatever you wanted her to be, whenever you wanted her.

And you hated it. You hated how much you wanted her, which is why you increasingly looked for distractions whenever Natasha wouldn’t find herself in your bed, ready for you. Your phone buzzed with your most recent and most exciting distraction: Wanda.

homework sucks :/ come help me out?

something tells me if I do your homework isn’t gonna get done

i wasn’t talking about helping me with homework ;)

[i’ll be there in a second]

[busy tonight. are you going to delta psi on friday?]

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader smut #bonk.wandanat #bonk.repost

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 9 months ago

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02/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Rhys Darby; Samba BTS; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; HowToHelp; Petition Embed; Queerties Last Day; IRL Outreach Assets; New Watch Parties; Visual Rep of SaveOFMD Effort; Fan Spotlight; Collages; OurFlagMeansBooze; Articles; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Wow everyone, crazy day again. Day 2 of BTS Darbygeddon. I'm actually going to set a google calendar reminder for tomorrow between 1-2 in case Samba decides to drop another doozy on us. Hope you all had a good day. Here's the highlights-- there's more I would have liked to add but I need to get permission first, so I'll hopefully have them up tomorrow. As always, please let me know if I missed anything <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Back again with another Cameo is Rhys for our lovely crewmate @Kellykat53 over on twitter! Thank you so much for sharing this with us Kelly, it's a lovely little inspirational video, definitely gives us plenty of Vitamin RD (as @scorpiostarseed would say). Check out the Cameo

= Saint Samba Schutte =

I've seen several people mention that Samba is a Saint (sorry not sure who started it to attribute it) so going forward, that will be his name. SO MANY BTS pictures and videos. My goodness. Has it even been a day since the last Merstede dump? It has, but damn, here we are with the BOYFRIEND video, and the nipple scratching, and oh look it's Buttons from the Cryptid Factor! As always, if you have access to instagram, please check out these posts on Samba and Rhys' posts/stories.

Videos on Tumblr:

Boyfriends - ty @blakbonnet!

Merstede - ty @kiwistede!

English Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Cursed Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Steard Nips - ty @kiwistede!

Rhysently Granted Reunion - ty @kiwistede!

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico voiced the new novel "The Diablo's Curse "by New York Times Best Seller Gabe Cole Novoa! I know some of you are huge Vico fans so wanted to mention it, you can purchase the audio book here. Src: Vico's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

Are you in New York? Our Pirate Queen will be at the #TonyKiserTheater NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26 at 6:30PM for a one night only reading of On The Evolutionary Function of Shame, by D.A. Mindell - For more details visit here.

== How to Help ==

Hey all! We're adding some things to the daily task lists (and taking some off). Here they are!

= Petition Embed Code =

Looking to easily embed the petition link in your AO3 fic, or maybe your email? @sonnetforbonnet was kind enough to provide us with some embeds you can use! Please visit the repo for the codes!

= Last day for Queerties! =

Please remember to vote! Today's the last day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

= IRL Outreach Assets =

== New Watch Parties Coming Up! ==

The Pirates! Watch Party! This is a family friendly movie so bring the kids! Or the adults-- or anyone you know, really, as long as it's not against their will! Sunday March 3rd, 3 PM EST, 12 PM PST, 8 PM GMT!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurPirateCaptain

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Visual Representation of Fandom Efforts to SOFMD ==

Remember our friends that had the in person Matelotage Processional? Well they're back with a funny video illustrating the fandom efforts of Save OFMD!

Fangirlfoto's Instagram Don't have instagram? See the video on the repo here.

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

Thank you once again to @wndrngnomad on twitter for all their awesome collages dedicated to the Cast and Crew! Day 21: Calypso's Birthday! Perfectly timed considering the lovely Boyfriend themed BTS we got today! Catch-Up: Day 2: Madeleine Sami!

= Our Flag Means Booze! =

Our absolutely brilliant crew-mate @quiet-compassion over on tumblr has been designing OFMD Themed Drinks since the show was dropped by Max! These not only have super fun and creative names you'll all recognise, but an amazing array of flavours too! If you're 21+ (in the US) or the appropriate age for drinking in your country, feel free to try them out! As always, please drink responsibly! Are you celebrating with Moonglow Manifesting? Why not try the "Moon Glow" cocktail for the end of the event! Want to see ALL their concoctions? Head on over to the repo, they're all there!

== Articles ==

17 Facts and Easter Eggs about OurFlagMeansDeath That will Get you On Board - 17 Fakten und Easter Eggs zu „Our Flag Means Death“, die dich ins Boot holen - ty @AddieH on twitter

Max: The 34 Absolute Best TV Shows to Watch

==Morale ==

Hey crew. I've been hearing some scuttlebutt around the deck that people are starting to worry again about whether or not s3 is going to happen. The love notes section is already pretty long so I'm not gonna go too crazy up here too -- instead I'm going to just point out that David Jenkins, while not active and posting things for us right now, is sneakily poking around in Samba and Rhys' BTS comments. He's still there, he's still watching, and I think he can tell we're all feeling the high from Samba's releases. Don't give up hope, these things take time. They're gonna get there. I'm gonna add the trends to this section today because I think it's important to see what we did today:

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating since I know a lot of you are struggling right now.

Just a gentle reminder that if your brain is telling you that there's something wrong with you, or that you've done something wrong or embarrassing -- it's lying to you.

There's been so much dopamine from all the excitement lately with the BTS, that it has to come down at some point, and when it does, your brain will sometimes over-compensate and you start feeling maybe worse than you did before.

This is totally normal, it really is. Our brains are glorious complex pathways of unmeasurable brilliance, and yet a simple hormone change can make that same brain tell us that we're not enough, or we're not worthy.

I am here to remind you, you are so very much enough.

No matter what is happening in your life-- in your job, in your personal relationships, in your family, in your school, anywhere--

YOU ARE ENOUGH, EXACTLY HOW YOU ARE.

If you feel like you've failed, or you've let someone down, just know you are STILL enough. We all fail, it's how we learn.

We pick ourselves back up and we try again, and if we fail again--

We're STILL enough, and we are still worthy of love and comfort.

Eventually you will succeed. You will get there, and all the while while you work on it, YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

I know it's so hard to see when you're feeling small, but I see you all every day, and I am awe-struck at your constant ability to band together and not only find love and support, but give it so freely and lovingly.

A simple @ to someone, alerting them to something they'd like

A love note in dms or on a tumblr post

A gif or picture or video brought to tumblr from some other platform so others can see them.

Writing a fic or drawing a picture.

A reblog with tags, goofy or not

Anon Asks showing people you support how they feel about a given topic

Liking a post.

These are all love notes. No matter how public or private, they're all there and they all add up eventually to form this wonderful community and you've been kicking ass at love.

I know we all look like we're having a good time, but a lot of us are struggling silently, and yet we're finding ways to reach out to one another and spread love to help us all get through. Love isn't always positivity, it can be commiseration, or frustration on behalf of someone. You all are finding the best ways to help your crew, and I'm so very proud of you.

You all are capable, creative, gifted, beautious piles of stardust smooshed together into one wonderfully unique package, and you are so very loved.

You are enough,

You are loved,

and THINGS WILL GET BETTER Lovelies.

Get some rest <3 You got this.

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

What can I say, I literally can't not include this Rhys gif today. It's physically impossible, please forgive me. Good fucking lord, I'm going to Costa Rica now. Also, sorry I tried to get a matching Taika gif, but I have run out of brain cells. Hopefully this one will suffice.

Rhys - Courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

Taika - Courtesy of @studiomoon

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #taika waititi #rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #vico ortiz #ruibo qian #save ofmd #saveofmd #save our flag means death #ofmd bts #samba schutte #saint samba schutte

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nurse-buckley · 2 years ago

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Tomorrow Holds Such Better Days

Fandom: 9-1-1 Word Count: 2,472 Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Bobby Nash, firefam (mentioned) Warnings: major trigger warning for depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide and overdosing with pills. If you are not in the right mind frame to read this please skip this one. Summary: After your depression worsens, you decide to take things into your own hands and end your life, but will a message to your family be enough to save your life? Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry (if you want to be added or taken off the list, please let me know)

Thank you @floralbuckleys @firemedicdiaz and @bucketofbarnes for all of your help, support with writing this <3

If you or anyone else is struggling with thoughts of suicide please reach out to someone you trust or alternatively try these helplines (x) If the link is broken, please let me know. You don't have to suffer alone.

You were no stranger to depression, having struggled with it off and on for a long time. The constant, agonizing feeling of sinking, as if you were watching everyone around you swimming up for air but there was a constant weight dragging you down. You didn’t want to die, but sometimes it just felt that going to sleep and never waking up or an accident on the job taking you out would make it easier.

Life had just gotten to be too much. Truly, sometimes you just thought maybe it wasn’t for you. Maybe you were just one of the unlucky ones that life didn’t work out for. With those constant thoughts plaguing your mind for days, you had finally made up your mind to end your life and made peace with it. If self-preservation had taught you anything, it was that maybe you should be terrified. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Usually you would have reached out to someone before it got to this point. You would have phoned Eddie, Buck or Bobby, or even the family you’d gained through them, knowing they’d all been through their own struggles. Any one of them would have dropped what they were doing to help you. But again, no matter how hard you tried to pick up the phone, typing and backspacing messages asking for help, the voice in your head was just too loud and fed you all the usual lies.

‘You’re a burden,’ ‘No one cares.’ ‘Why are you so needy?’ ‘They have their own lives and issues to worry about without adding your burdens to them.’

You didn’t want to put your issues on them anymore, scared of the judgment, the looks and the pity they might give you. Not when they had their own problems and lives to deal with. If you were being truthful to yourself, maybe you didn’t want to tell them because if you did they would stop you and you weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted.

This just felt like the best option; for you, and for them.

You opened your phone, sending a text to Bobby first to let him know you couldn’t make it to work again. It was the second shift in a row that you’d missed, and even now you hated the fact that you were letting the team down. A few moments later, your phone started pinging with a few notifications from your friends.

Hen: ‘I hope you feel better soon <3’

Chim: ‘Feel better, let me or Maddie know if you need anything :)’

Buck: ‘Me and Eddie will swing by to check on you with some soup after shift, do you need anything else? xx’

You cursed yourself for lying to them, once again forcing the attention on yourself. The guilt only added to your decision and with one last text to the group, that was it.

‘Thanks for always having my back guys. Appreciate and love you all.’

You hit the send button, leaving the phone on your coffee table along with a hastily scribbled note explaining your decision and apologizing.

To everyone else, the message you’d sent seemed normal. They’d pocketed their phones and gone about their normal duties, checking inventory and cleaning, but something in Buck just didn’t sit right. He’d read the message over and over, trying to convince himself that everything was okay, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

You’d opened up to Buck about your past a few times, your parents, even your therapy. He thought you’d been doing better but he’d noticed your downturn in mood lately; how quiet you’d been, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, even as you laughed at his and Chim’s jokes.

Buck made his way to Bobby’s office. “Hey Cap, is it alright if me and Eddie swing by y/n’s place?”

Bobby didn’t miss the concern plastering Buck’s face, being able to read him like a book and knowing something wasn’t sitting right with him.

“What’s going on?”

It didn’t take him long to quickly explain his worries, the warning signs, and that he wouldn’t feel okay until he checked on you.

Bobby mentally kicked himself for not putting it together sooner, knowing the warning signs from his own experiences when Hen and Buck had almost had to break his door down for him years before. “Take one of the med kits and keep me updated.”

Buck practically flew out of Bobby’s office, calling Eddie as he ran to grab one of the spare medical kits and monitors from the storage closet.

“I’ll explain on the way, we need to go. Now.”

“Y/N, can you open the door for us?”

Buck pulled out his phone, willing his hands to stop shaking so he could unlock the screen and call your number. Eddie leant in closer to the door as they heard your familiar ringtone. With no answer or signs of movement, Eddie pulled out the spare key you’d given him.

As the pair walked in, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The place was relatively tidy but there was no sign of you being there. Buck called out your name once more, his worry only growing as he was met with silence.

“Buck…” Eddie’s heart felt as if it were in his throat as his eyes landed on your phone sitting on top of a folded piece of paper on the coffee table where you’d left them.

Buck’s feet carried him towards your bedroom before his mind could even fully comprehend the note, not even caring to knock as he swung open the door. His breath caught in his throat as he saw your body lying prone on your bed, the small orange pill bottle lying empty and open on your bedside table.

He couldn’t even hear himself screaming Eddie’s name for help over the pounding in his ears as he ran to the bedside and dropped to his knees. He pressed his fingers into your neck, relief washing over him as he felt your pulse beneath his fingertips. It was slower then he’d have liked, but it was there.

You felt as if you were floating, vaguely aware of voices around you, hands jostling your body and flipping you onto your back; but your body was too heavy to fight back, the pull of the drugs still keeping you asleep. You felt another set of warm fingers press into the side of your neck, but the darkness was safe. Comforting.

It wasn’t until you felt the painful sensation of knuckles rubbing up and down the center of your chest that you became more aware of your surroundings. The pain caused you to let out a groan as you sluggishly came back to your senses.

“That’s it. Open your eyes for me, we’ve got you.”

Even through the haze, you could recognise that voice anywhere. “Ed…?”

The knuckles continued to try and rouse you and you would have given anything to smack him away if your arms weren’t so heavy.

“Yeah. It’s me, I’m here. Buck’s here too. Open your eyes for us.”

When you finally opened your eyes, you were met with the two men hovering over you. It didn’t take long for the memories to come rushing back; the text messages…the note…the pills. You suddenly became aware of the enormity of what you’d just attempted. You’d tried to kill yourself, and without Buck and Eddie there you very nearly could have succeeded. There was no coming back from that and you knew you’d have to explain yourself.

You shot up, crashing into Eddie as you wrapped your arms around him, fisting your hands into his t-shirt as every emotion that had built up over the last few weeks burst out. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you as you cried, whispering words of comfort and reassurance.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you choked out between sobs.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re okay. We’ve got you,” you heard Buck say as you felt him rub soothing patterns up and down your back.

Eventually the sobs died down, turning to small hiccups and you pulled away. Shame suddenly overwhelmed you, your hands and gaze dropping to your lap, not being able to look at either man.

Eddie reached out slowly, giving you time to back away before he gently squeezed your hands and ducked his head to try and gain your attention. “Y/n?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked up at him; Anger? Annoyance? Disgust? But you were only met with his soft and understanding expression.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart. I know this is the last thing you want right now, but with the pills you took I need you to let me or Buck take a look at you. I know that you know what kinds of effects they can have on your body and so I know you know it's important we get a set of vitals on you and see what’s going on with your heart and breathing. Do you think we can get you settled on the couch so we can check you over?”

You looked between him and Buck, being met with twin concerned expressions and nodded, knowing it needed to be done.

“Thank you,” Eddie replied as he gave your hands another squeeze.

The pair moved to either side of you as they helped you swing your legs off the bed and kept you steady as you stood. They stayed still for a moment, letting you gain your balance, before leading you to the couch in the living room.

Once settled, Buck pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapped it around your back and took the seat next to you, offering out his hand. You took it gratefully, needing all the strength you could get to get you through Eddie’s exam.

He began with a few questions. How many pills you took, how you were feeling physically and if you had any symptoms. Thankfully the vitals were quick and after a few more tears, he set the equipment off to the side and took your other hand. “I’m happy your vitals are stable for now. I’d be happier if you got checked out at the hospital, but…”

“No…” your panic began to rise at the thought of hospitals, doctors and nurses.

A squeeze from Eddie’s hand grounded you enough for him to continue, “But, I understand if you don’t want that,” he added quickly, knowing your previous experiences with hospitals.

“Me and Buck would come with you and we could call it an accidental overdose, no one would need to know the details. It’d just be so we can get you checked medically, but I can’t and am not going to force you.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay, if we’re not going to the hospital then I have a few conditions. I’m going to keep an eye on your vitals until the pills wear off, but if anything changes we will have to call an ambulance. I’m also going to set up some fluids to help flush your system and make you something to eat. How does that sound?”

You were terrified at the thought of more vitals, needles and eating; but you knew the alternative would be a lot worse. You trusted Eddie and Buck with your life, and another glance between the pair had you agreeing to his terms.

Buck was next to speak, offering distraction as Eddie began gathering the supplies he needed to start the IV. “Have you got an appointment with your therapist coming up any time soon?”

“Yeah. I’ve got an appointment the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s good.”

He kept up the conversation, talking about anything that came to mind, Eddie chipping in here and there.

“Almost ready here,” Eddie interrupted, “Where’s best for you to have the IV?”

You held out your preferred arm, turning away to Buck for distraction as he cleaned the area. Before you knew it, Eddie had the fluids up and running. With nothing more to do for the moment, the room fell silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, being the first to broach the subject.

You fiddled with the tape on your IV for a minute, not sure whether you wanted to open that can of worms or not. “Not really. I don’t know. I’m a little embarrassed and know it was dumb and I could have come to any of you, but I just couldn’t see a way out for a minute there.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’d be surprised to find someone today who hasn’t been affected by poor mental health,” Eddie replied, “and I don’t need to tell you that any of us would have dropped everything to help you.”

The three of you talked more while the fluids ran through. Buck had already updated Bobby who’d promised to come by after shift, asking Eddie and Buck to stay with you as he called in cover for them. Buck made you all something to eat so you wouldn’t feel alone, while Eddie kept an eye on you and got a few more sets of vitals.

True to his word, a few hours later Bobby appeared, taking the seat beside you as he pulled you into his chest and held you close. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were struggling sooner,” he whispered only for you to hear.

“Do the others know?”

“No,” Bobby shook his head, “and they don’t have to know, unless you tell them. They just think you’ve got a bad case of the flu.”

“I’m sorry,” you let out after a few moments of silence.

“You don’t have to be. I’ve been there before. After my family died I had a plan and if it weren’t for Buck, Hen and the rest of you…I wouldn’t be here. They got me through and we’ll get you through. It’s what family does.”

You let out a shaky breath, “So. What happens now?”

“That’s up to you. Do you think it would be a good idea to take some time off work?”

“No. Isolating myself just makes things worse. Not having anything to do tends to make me spiral a little.”

The pair of you agreed on a plan. A few days off to recover, continuing with your therapist and checking in with either him, Buck or Eddie if you felt yourself slipping again. Buck offered to let you stay with him, not wanting you to be alone and wanting you where he could keep an eye on you for the night. You knew the road to recovery was only just beginning, but you felt a little lighter with your family by your side.

#911 #9-1-1 #911 reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley x reader #bobby nash x reader #buddie x reader #911 x reader #9-1-1 x reader #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #911 fanfiction #9-1-1 fanfiction #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw overdose #my writing

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 10 months ago

Note

A 1k fic prompt for you! How about Ed being really sure that his "punishment" when he gets back to the ship will be way worse than just the crew making him wear a sack and a bell, and Stede being sad that Ed was willing to come back even with the assumption that he was going to get, like, keelhauled?

Oh this one is JUICY, I love it. Ed baby please accept that you don't deserve to be hurt

The room was empty when Ed woke up.

He tried to let himself drift back to awareness slowly. He felt better than he had since he’d been dead - something about being back on the Revenge, everyone properly together again. Something about having Stede with him again.

They’d fallen asleep in the bed together. Stede had insisted on it, since Ed was hurt and all. They’d been proper gentlemen about it, fell asleep with just their little fingers linked.

The crew hadn’t objected when Stede had turned back up with Ed in tow. They’d been expecting it, actually, it looked like, and that was…troubling.

Stede had said he would talk to them when he got up, to discuss their conditions for allowing Ed back on the ship. He must have wanted Ed to be able to sleep in a bit.

Ed was grateful for that. He didn’t know how well he’d be able to sleep for the next…little while. Depended on how angry they were at him, he guessed. He got up slowly, reminding his sore body that these aches and pains would probably feel like heaven compared to how he’d feel tomorrow.

The crew had been expecting him back. He’d hurt all of them. They would be wanting revenge, naturally.

Ed tried not to worry too much about it. He’d been through floggings before, those rarely killed you. Keel-haulings didn’t kill you all the time. Chopping off his gun hand, or a leg - that was something you could live through.

“Oh, Ed, good morning!” That was Stede, poking his head in the door, and Ed gave him a tight, nervous smile. “Just been talking to the crew. Jim and Frenchie were voted to be the ones to deliver your conditions, does that sound alright?”

Ed nodded bravely. “Sure.”

“Great.” Stede gave him a quick smile. “We’ll get this business sorted, and then we’ll have breakfast. Be right back!”

Stede was, Ed thought, being very optimistic about Ed’s ability to eat breakfast once all was said and done. Great, now he had to worry about disappointing Stede if he was hurt too badly to keep anything down.

Ed folded his hands in front of him as Stede led Jim and Frenchie into the cabin, trying to look appropriately cowed.

“Right.” Frenchie’s polite smile did not reach his eyes, and Jim was glaring at him.

This did not bode well.

“We just have a few big things, really,” Frenchie started.

“And a lot of little things,” Jim said. “Like no shooting anyone, or pointing guns at anyone, including yourself, and -”

“Ed knows all that stuff already,” Stede interrupted mildly. “You don’t have to tell him the little ones, he knows.”

“The big ones, then,” Frenchie said impressively. “One: for the duration of your probationary period, you have to wear a sackcloth.”

“The ancient symbol of penance.” Ed nodded seriously. He could accept that with grace.

“And you can’t be sneaking up on people,” Jim added. “So you have to wear a bell.”

“Pete already found you a little kitty collar,” Stede said helpfully.

“No, yeah, I can do that,” Ed said. “Sackcloth. Bell. Got it.”

Here it comes, he thought nervously.

“And finally,” Frenchie said seriously, “you’re on potato-peeling duty. All week.”

Ed stared. “That’s…it?”

Jim shrugged. “I think some people also wanted a public apology? So that too, I guess.”

“No, I mean…” Ed shifted nervously from foot to foot. Maybe he was just being stupid, and they assumed he already knew the flogging was coming? “How many lashes do you want? Fifty? A hundred? Because if it’s more than that, I -”

“Ed,” Stede interrupted, and Ed realized that Jim and Frenchie were just looking at him blankly, and Stede looked absolutely horrified. “Good God, Ed, no one’s going to beat you.”

Ed looked at Jim and Frenchie for confirmation.

“No, yeah, absolutely not,” Frenchie said. “We’re not doing that.”

“Yeah, no,” Jim agreed. “I mean, I’m still pissed at you. Shitty captain. Shitty behavior.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ed mumbled, looking at the ground.

“But,” Jim shrugged, “like, listen, man, when you’re about to beat someone’s head in and they say finally like you did, you don’t feel good about that, y’know? I already beat you to death once. I don’t wanna kill you.”

“Yeah, mostly we kinda just want to make sure you’re not going to go all crazy on us again,” Frenchie added.

Stede was very quiet as Jim and Frenchie brought Ed the sackcloth onesie Wee John had prepared for him and a collar with a bell on it. Like, yeah, this was kind of embarrassing, but compared to what he’d been expecting? Fuck, he’d take the sackcloth any day.

“Here, let me.” Stede had given Ed privacy as he got changed, but he stepped up close to him to fasten the collar around his neck. Ed tilted his chin up, baring his throat to him without even hesitating.

The collar was tight but not horribly uncomfortable, and it made a merry little jingle every time he moved. Ed thought he’d keep it, even after his probation was over. For…reasons.

“Hey.” Ed frowned as Stede pulled back, concerned by the downward slant to his mouth. Ed was feeling positively jovial; Stede just looked upset. “What’s the matter?”

Stede shook his head minutely. “You agreed to come back,” he said softly, “even though you thought you were going to be hurt?”

“I mean, yeah.” Ed frowned. “Kinda deserve that, anyway -”

“You do not,” Stede said firmly. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. You’ve been through enough, for fuck’s sake. You deserve to feel safe.”

“I do,” Ed promised, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “I’m just surprised they don’t…you know, they don’t hate me.”

“They never hated you,” Stede promised, giving the bell a little flick with his finger. “Not at all, Ed. You broke their trust, but that’s it.”

Huh.

Trust was something that could be won back. Ed liked the idea of that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

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differentpostrebel · 3 months ago

Text

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

The second gif gets me everytime LMFAOOO

Chapter 19: The Icy Clash

A/N: We finally get the Monet VS. Y/N fight!!! And also some funny Sanji moments too. Some Law POV, as well. Some surprise guests too! Tomorrows chapter we will be getting out lovesick cooks sanji POV.. and more, maybe a few more surprise guests (hehehe) ! Thank you guys for joining!, thank you guys for following, liking, reblogging, commenting!. I cant wait for you guys to see whats instore for the next chapters! And without further a do, lets get to it! Also, Tomorrow I will also be going back to chapter 18 and 19 and adding the links to the previous chapters.

Word Count: 4.8K

Sanji X Reader, One Piece X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

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

Laws POV…

Finally making my way to the room I needed to be in, I was laser-focused on my mission. Destroying the manufacturing tanks for the SAD was my top priority. Once that was done, I’d head back to R-66 and regroup with Straw Hat—and Y/N. Thoughts of her needing my assistance filled my mind. Her extensive injuries and wounds meant she'd be in recovery mode, which meant she'd need me by her side.

"Y/N, the things you do to me," I whispered under my breath as I unsheathed my blade, preparing for the task ahead.

But before I could make my move, a voice behind me made it clear who I’d be facing.

"I can't help but feel like I've been bit by my very own dog, Law," Vergo’s voice dripped with malice, causing me to turn back and face him.

"I'm afraid you've crossed the line, kid. You're just too damn smart for your own good," he sneered, his armament Haki flaring up as he readied his bamboo stick. "You know what's sad about folks like you? They tend to die at a young age. I can't wait to wipe that smart-ass look off your face."

His eyes narrowed as a twisted smile crept across his lips. "And maybe then I can get back to that princess of yours you seem so fond of. Maybe I can even hand her over to Joker. I'm sure he'd love to have his fun with her."

I felt a surge of anger course through me, my grip tightening on my blade. "You won’t lay a finger on her, Vergo," I growled, my voice low and deadly.

In a flash, Vergo appeared in front of me, faster than I could react. His bamboo stick slammed into my chin with brutal force, knocking me off balance as blood spilled from my mouth. Before I could regain my footing, he appeared again, this time driving his weapon into my chest, slamming me into the ground with such force that it created a dent in the metal floor.

"Stand up, Law," Vergo taunted, towering over me with that same cold, menacing grin. "You can’t die this early. I want you to feel every bit of this."

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to push myself up, my body protesting in pain. "You think… this is enough to stop me?" I spat, wiping the blood from my mouth as I forced myself to stand, my legs shaky but resolute.

Vergo’s expression didn’t change, his eyes narrowing as he watched me. "You’ve always been stubborn. But that’s going to be your downfall."

I steadied myself, gripping my sword tightly. "The only one falling today… is you," I said, my voice filled with determination. "I’ve come too far to let you stop me now. And I’ll be damned if I let you get anywhere near her."

Vergo chuckled darkly, his bamboo stick coated in Haki as he readied his next move. "Big words for a man on the brink of death. Let’s see if you can back them up."

Y/N POV..

"What is that?" I asked, looking up ahead at the top of the stairs.

"It's the children!" Robin exclaimed, her voice filled with concern.

"Oh no, Chopper is in his Monster Point!" Nami gasped, her eyes widening in alarm.

"The kids must be going through withdrawals," I said, my heart sinking at the sight. Chopper’s Rumble Ball effect had worn off, and the children were frantically running towards the biscuit room, desperate to eat more candy. Chopper, tears welling in his eyes, begged them to stop, but they didn’t listen.

Just then, Nami grabbed Chopper, pulling him back as we all began to run toward the children. "Nami, thank you!" Chopper said, his voice filled with relief.

"Looks like we got here just in time! Yohooo!" Brook chimed in, his usual cheerfulness masking the severity of the situation.

But I suddenly stopped in my tracks, my body still too weak to keep up. The toll of my injuries was catching up to me, and I couldn’t push myself any further. "Y/N, come on!" Zoro called out, his voice urging me to keep moving.

I glanced at Chopper, struggling to catch my breath as I tried to steady myself. "Chopper," I began, my voice strained, "remember that medicine I handed you along with the ointment that can heal wounds fast?"

"Yeah, Y/N, I brought a few just in case," Chopper replied, still wounded from trying to keep the kids in place. He was breathing heavily, but he quickly reached into his bag, understanding the gravity of the situation.

I limped toward Chopper, determination in my eyes. "Good, I’m going to need that now!" I declared, knowing this was the only way I could help without being a burden.

Chopper stared at me, his eyes full of concern but also understanding. He knew this was a risk, but it was necessary. "Right!" he said, pulling out a small white medicine pill.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered, swallowing the pill whole. The taste was bitter, but I ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.

After a few minutes, I began to feel the effects of the medicine. My body, once sluggish and weak, now felt energized. The pain in my right leg subsided, and I could finally put weight on it again. "Yes!" I exclaimed, testing my strength as a smile spread across my face. "Thank you, Chopper!" I said, grateful for his quick thinking and the medicine that had given me a second wind.

"You gotta stop the kids before they consume more of it, guys!" Chopper cried, his voice trembling. "The biscuit room is down the hall to the left. There's a girl named Mocha who's been helping me—she's the only child with her right mind!"

"Don’t worry, Chopper, we can take care of it from here. You did good," I reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tears welled up in Chopper’s eyes once more, the weight of the situation heavy on his small frame.

We finally reached the biscuit room, and just as Chopper had said, the children were rushing toward Mocha, desperate for more candy. Robin quickly sprang into action. "Mil Fleur, Gigantesco Mano!" she commanded, her giant hands emerging from the floor, wrapping around the children, and halting them in their tracks.

"Good, this will buy us some time!" I said, feeling a brief moment of relief.

"Nami, Usopp, Chopper, go help Mocha and the kids!" I instructed, urgency lacing my voice.

"Right!" they responded in unison, rushing toward Mocha, who was trying her best to keep the candy away from the other children.

Robin’s face twisted in concentration as she struggled to hold the kids back. "I’m afraid I can’t hold them off much longer," she warned, gritting her teeth. One of the children bit down on her hand, causing her to wince in pain.

"You can’t have any candy!" Mocha shouted, desperately trying to keep the candy away from the other children as they clawed at her. In a panic, she turned and bolted, clutching the candy tightly to her chest.

Just then, a gust of cold wind swept through the room, carrying with it a flurry of snowflakes. "What is it now?" I groaned in frustration as the exit became blocked by a wall of snow.

"You don’t have to worry about a thing, Mocha dear," a chillingly familiar voice echoed through the room. My eyes widened in shock and anger. "It’s her!" I hissed, gripping my sword tightly. "The nerve of this bitch!" I added through gritted teeth.

"Ahhh, it’s her! It’s the crazy bird woman I told you about!" Usopp yelled, eyes wide with fear.

"Crazy is a nice way of putting it," I muttered darkly. "This woman is downright evil!"

"Monet, help me, please!" Mocha pleaded, her voice trembling.

Monet’s icy gaze fell on Mocha. "Mocha, you shouldn’t hog all the candy. Be a nice girl and share it with everyone," she cooed, a sinister smile on her lips as she sent another gust of snow our way.

"It seems this woman uses sorcery!" Kin’emon exclaimed, readying his sword.

"Oh, it’s more than sorcery, that’s for sure!" I snapped back, my eyes narrowing as I locked onto Monet.

"You know this woman?" Zoro asked, glancing at me with curiosity.

"Let’s just say she and I go way back," I replied coldly, my grip tightening on my sword.

Monet! But why?" Mocha cried out, her voice tinged with desperation and confusion.

Monet giggled, a chilling sound that seemed to freeze the very air around us.

Laws POV…

"AHHH!" I yelled in agony, the pain nearly overwhelming me. "Damn it! Room! Have my heart come back to me!"

Just as I managed to summon my powers and pull my heart back, Vergo landed a crushing kick that sent me crashing into the nearby rails. I fell to the ground, the pain becoming almost unbearable. My vision started to blur, and I could barely make out Vergo’s menacing figure as he once again clutched my heart.

With his armament haki activated, Vergo landed a devastating punch to my face, sending my hat flying off and leaving me vulnerable.

"Here’s a counter shock!" I sneered, unleashing a brutal attack that made him gasp in pain.

"I have a message from Joker," Vergo said, his voice cold and indifferent.

My counterattack hadn’t worked, and the realization dawned on me that Vergo was indeed a loyal lackey of Joker. "Well, Vergo," I said through gritted teeth, a smirk appearing on my face despite the pain. "That’s Mr. Vergo to you."

As Vergo continued to clutch my heart, I screamed in agony, my strength waning as I barely managed to stay conscious. Just then, as if by some miracle, the scene shifted, and Vergo came face to face with Vice Admiral Smoker.

Smoker’s imposing figure filled the doorway, and his presence was a welcome sight. "Smoker…" I muttered weakly, a flicker of hope igniting within me despite the intense pain.

Y/N POV..

"Mocha, there’s no way you can eat all that candy alone," Monet said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You might as well share it with the others."

"No! I can't do that, it's bad!" Mocha protested, clutching the candy tightly.

"My, you're a difficult one," Monet replied with a smirk. "Stop being greedy and share."

"Hey, lady, what are you doing to these kids?" Nami demanded, stepping forward with a fierce glare.

"Yeah, you don’t know who you’re messing with!" Usopp added, his tone defiant.

"Actually, I do," Monet said with a hint of malice. "I do my research, so I know exactly who you are. You’re the infamous Straw Hat Pirate Crew."

"We don’t have much time," Robin said, turning to us with urgency. "Luffy asked me to find Sea Prism Stone handcuffs. Usopp and Brook, go search for them."

Usopp and Brook nodded, quickly heading off to find the handcuffs. Kinemon also left to search for his son, leaving Robin, Zoro, Nami, Chopper, and me to deal with Monet.

I steeled myself, trying to push through the pain and fatigue. "Not yet, Y/N," I thought. "I’ve got to hold it off a little while longer."

Mocha, taking advantage of the chaos, ran away with the children following her. Nami and Chopper dashed after them, their urgency clear. "Perhaps I can slow them down!" Robin said, preparing to act.

But before Robin could make a move, Monet struck with deadly precision, stabbing Robin in the back. "Robin!" Nami cried out in horror as Robin staggered, the wound clearly painful.

Seeing Robin injured spurred me into action. "It’s time," I said to myself, determination filling me. I clenched my left hand, activating its power. I grabbed my sword, pressing the blue gem to summon the ice once more. The blade shimmered with a cold, icy aura.

With a surge of adrenaline, I lifted my left leg and dashed toward Nami and Robin. "I told you... DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!" I roared, my voice echoing with fury. I slammed my sword down, intercepting Monet’s attack with a loud clash.

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air, and Monet’s eyes widened in surprise.

. She was flung backward, her blades slicing through the air as she regained her balance.

“Nami, Robin, Chopper, are you guys okay?” I called out, not taking my glare away from Monet. I could see Nami trying to support Robin while Chopper tended to her wounds.

“We’re fine, but the kids—” Nami began, but Zoro cut her off.

“You three do something to stop those kids!” Zoro said, drawing his swords and preparing for action.

“Zoro, stay out of this fight!” I ordered, my voice firm and filled with authority. “This birdbrain’s mine.” I smirked, focusing my full attention on Monet.

“I’m not leaving you,” Zoro said, determination etched in his expression.

“Just make sure Nami, Robin, and Chopper make it out of this room!” I insisted. “Then come back and help.”

Monet, having regained her composure, sneered at me. “Ahh, we meet again, harlot!” she spat, venom dripping from her words.

“Monet, long time no see. Has it really been 30 minutes since you tied me to those chains?” I retorted, my voice dripping with cold satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting to get you back for mocking me, princess,” Monet growled, her rage palpable. “The brokers will be thrilled to see this fight,” she added with a smirk.

“By the way, how’s your right leg? Vergo did a number on you. That’ll be an easy target for me to strike,” Monet taunted.

“Good,” I said, clenching my left hand. “I can’t wait for them to watch me kick your ass!” I lifted my right leg and clenched my left hand, focusing my energy.

With a burst of speed, I dashed through the air, twisting and spinning with precision. My right leg arced gracefully, the motion fluid and powerful as I executed my move. “Tremor Kick!” I shouted as my heel connected with Monet’s head, sending her crashing down to the ground with a resounding impact. The force created a series of cracks and holes in the ground where she landed.

I glanced to my right and spotted a camera, clearly positioned for the brokers to watch the fight. “Must be where the brokers are looking at,” I thought with a smirk.

“And as for you lovely brokers who are watching,” I called out with a confident grin, “get ready for the ride of your lives.”

I twirled my sword, and the air around me shimmered as the ice shards crystallized into razor-sharp, blade-like formations. The shards whirled around me, their edges gleaming with a deadly light. With a swift, fluid motion, I directed the shards toward Monet.

The shards sliced through the air with precision, their icy blades cutting through anything in their path. Monet, still reeling from my previous attack, barely had time to react as the shards closed in. The air crackled with the sound of ice meeting flesh, and Monet’s eyes widened in shock and pain.

As she staggered back, I could hear Mocha’s desperate screams as she fled through another door, pursued by the others.

“We can’t let the kids get away!” Chopper shouted, his concern for the children evident in his voice. Robin, Chopper, Nami, and Zoro swiftly headed towards the children, leaving me to deal with Monet.

Monet’s voice cut through the chaos, dripping with malice. “My, that was quite the attack, harlot. But it’s still not enough to stop me.” Her determination was palpable as she started moving towards the escaping group.

“Oh no you don’t!” I shouted, dashing to intercept her. Nami’s eyes widened in alarm. “Y/N! Don’t hit me!” she cried out, but I had no intention of harming her. Instead, I aimed my strike at Monet, who had positioned herself behind Nami.

Our blades clashed with a sharp ring, the impact reverberating through the room. Monet gritted her teeth, her face a mask of rage and frustration.

“Guys, get out now!” I yelled to Nami, Robin, and Chopper as they hurriedly left. Zoro gave me one last, concerned look before turning back to ensure their safe retreat.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay, Y/N?” Zoro called out, determination in his voice. “Protect them and the children!” I shouted back, my voice laced with urgency. With a nod, Zoro sprinted off, leaving me to confront Monet.

Monet’s eyes narrowed as she licked her lips, her expression a mix of disdain and amusement. “Such a shame,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “This fight is between you and me, not them.”

I met her gaze with a smirk. “Yes, it is, but picking at the weak ones is a winner’s strategy.”

Monet’s smile faltered slightly as I chuckled. “You honestly think they’re weak? Hmpph, Law was right about one thing: you really are full of it,” I said, letting out a laugh that I hoped would get under her skin.

Her face darkened, anger flickering in her eyes. “Harlot… I’d watch that mouth of yours,” she warned, her tone icy.

“Oh?” I replied, feigning curiosity. “You mean the same mouth that Law loves to kiss?”

The mention of Law’s name seemed to hit a nerve. Monet’s expression twisted in a mix of rage and frustration. Monet’s frustration was palpable, her strikes growing more erratic as I danced around her with deliberate ease. “You know, Monet,” I said with a smirk, “it’s almost sad watching you get so worked up. You’re clearly not used to someone getting under your skin.”

Her eyes narrowed with fury. “I’m going to enjoy watching you fall.”

I chuckled, dodging another of her wild swings. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But before you do, let’s talk about something a bit more... personal. Like how Law and I had a little moment together.”

Monet’s confusion and irritation flashed across her face. “What are you talking about?”

I sidestepped her attack with a graceful twist, my voice laced with taunting amusement. “You didn’t know? Law and I had a rather... intense encounter. He had me pinned down, tending to my wounds with such skill. But it wasn’t just about healing. There was a certain... intimacy to it. You could almost feel the tension crackling between us.”

Monet’s grip on her weapon tightened, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t care about your games or your little romance.”

I laughed softly, my eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, but you’re mistaken. It’s not just about romance. It’s about how he made me feel, the way his touch was both firm and gentle. And this coat I’m wearing? It’s not just any coat. It’s his coat. The warmth of it, the scent of his cologne—it all reminds me of how he took care of me, making sure I stayed warm and protected.” I gave her a teasing wink. “A charming young doctor just knows all the right ways to satisfy a woman, if you know what I mean.”

Monet’s face twisted in anger. “Enough! I’m done listening to your pathetic boasts.”

I leaned in closer, my tone dripping with mockery. “Pathetic? Maybe. But it’s also effective. You’re rattled because you know you’ll never have what I had with Law. The warmth, the care, the connection—it’s something you can never touch. And that eats away at you, doesn’t it?”

Putting away my sword, I pressed my left palm against my right fist, activating the electrical charge with a crackle of energy. “You are so dead, princess!” Monet snarled, lunging at me with fury. I dodged her attack, her movements wild and fueled by rage. But then, suddenly, I felt something cold and heavy stopping me in my tracks.

“What the hell!” I cursed, struggling to move as the snow around me hardened, trapping me in place. Monet’s eyes gleamed with triumph as she closed in, her claws flashing. She slashed at my coat, the fabric tearing apart, falling in tatters around me.

“Now, there’s no coat to protect you,” she sneered, her smirk widening as I strained against the snow’s grasp.

“Damn it, I’m still stuck in this!” I growled, struggling against the snow’s icy grip. But before I could break free, Monet seized my left arm, her claws digging painfully into my skin. I swung at her with my free hand, but she was too fast. With a sinister grin, she spun me around and hurled me against the wall. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my body, blood spilling from my mouth as I crumpled to the ground. My left arm throbbed in agony—the injury was getting worse, and I could feel it.

Monet approached me with a taunting smirk, her voice dripping with mockery. “Hahaha! My, my, Princess, did I injure your left arm?”

I looked up at her, breathing heavily but refusing to show weakness. “Even if you did injure me, I can still kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back!” I snarled.

With my right hand, I grabbed her left leg in a sudden move. Her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing?!” Monet demanded.

“NOW SHOCK!” I yelled, channeling the electricity from my arm directly into her body. The energy surged through her, and Monet convulsed, gasping for air as the shock overwhelmed her.

As she collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe, I slowly let go of her leg and pushed myself up, clutching onto my injured left arm. The pain was intense, but I wasn’t about to back down. I stood over Monet, my eyes burning with defiance. “You’re not so tough when the tables are turned, are you?” I muttered, my voice low and fierce.

Just then, I heard the door creak open, and I turned to see Zoro stepping into the room. "Finally made it back," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Laughing, I made my way over to him, relief washing over me. "About time you got here!" I teased. "And you didn’t get lost! I’m impressed."

But before I could say more, I saw Zoro's expression change. His eyes widened as he looked past me, and I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. “Y/N, watch out!” he shouted.

“Snow Sword Skin Technique!” Monet's voice rang out behind me, filled with malice. I barely had time to react before I felt a sharp, searing pain in my left arm. Monet’s blade had cut deep, leaving a giant gash that bled profusely.

“Damn it!” I seethed, clutching my arm as I staggered back, trying to maintain my balance. The pain was excruciating, but I wasn’t going to let her see me falter.

Monet seizing the opportunity, grabs me with her claws. Her claws dug deeper into my chest, and I could feel her nails piercing my skin as pressure mounted on my ribs. "Ahhh!" I screamed, the agony shooting through my body. I clutched my left arm, still trying to lift my right leg for an attack, but Monet locked it down with her own, squeezing me into submission.

“Damn it!” I gasped, each breath harder to take as her crushing hold forced the air out of me. My body throbbed as if every nerve was screaming in pain.

“Y/N!” Zoro’s voice cut through the haze, his sword ready as he sprinted toward me.

“Zoro! Don’t!” I shouted, trying to keep him from getting any closer. I knew Monet wanted him to charge in recklessly.

Monet grinned wickedly, her taunt aimed right at Zoro. “My, even in the face of death, she still wants to protect you. How touching!” Her wings began to rise, preparing to deliver the final blow. "One more slash should do it."

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor. “There’s another room back here! Find those children and get them out of here!” shouted a familiar voice.

Monet froze, her attack halting as confusion washed over her face. “What the...?”

I took advantage of the distraction, clenching my left hand, summoning every bit of energy I had. Pain radiated through my body, but I forced it aside, connecting my right hand with my left. Power surged between them. A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth as I realized I had the chance to fight back.

“Come on, let’s bust the door open!” The voice rang out, clear now. My eyes widened. "Wait, that's..."

“Raaahhh! Save those kids!” Sanji shouted as he burst into the room, G-5 marines following close behind.

Zoro threw an annoyed glance their way. “Why are all those marines after you?”

“The only person I can see is Pirate Hunter Zoro!” one of the G-5 marines shouted.

“Of course, that idiot is here,” Sanji said, exasperation in his voice.

"He really is something else," I muttered weakly through the pain.

“Alright, men! Everyone, make dumb faces at Mosshead!” Sanji commanded, and the G-5 soldiers instantly complied, pulling ridiculous expressions toward Zoro.

“I hope you all slip and crack your skulls,” Zoro grumbled.

Monet’s grip on my leg loosened in the chaos, giving me the opportunity I needed. Summoning all the power in my right leg, I prepared to strike.

Sanji, oblivious to the situation, suddenly locked eyes on Monet. “Never mind, we’ve got a hottie right here!” he swooned, hearts in his eyes.

“Yeah, shake those tail feathers!” one of the G-5 soldiers chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, Sanji.”

“Pick your jaws up, morons!” Zoro barked at the G-5 marines, snapping them out of their daze. “And you, curly brows, do you not see she’s about to kill Y/N?”

But then, Sanji’s gaze shifted and finally locked onto me. His eyes went wide with sudden realization. “What the—? Y/N!” His voice, usually playful, was now filled with genuine concern. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”

That was all I needed to hear. Gathering the last bit of strength, I pushed back against Monet. With my right leg, I kicked her just enough to loosen her grip. “I’ve got one shot at this,” I muttered to myself, steeling my resolve.

With Monet momentarily thrown off, I activated the anklet around my leg, and connecting a touch with my left palm, letting the fire ignite. “Let’s see how you handle this, Monet!”

With a fierce stomp, I brought my foot down on her wing, flames erupting and sending tremors through her body. The fire spread across her arm, igniting her flesh. “Now, Blaze!” I shouted, watching as her arm was engulfed in flames.

Monet screeched, stumbling backward as she tried desperately to extinguish the fire. The tables had turned. The terror she had inflicted on me was now her own to face. I stood, clutching my injured arm but ready to finish what we started.

Monet, though weakened and scorched, wasn’t done yet. She bared her fangs, her icy wings spreading wide as she prepared for another assault. “You think this is over?” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Just then, she was momentarily distracted by the G-5 marines, who were shouting and catcalling. “Sexiest bird I’ve ever seen!” one of them whistled, while another added, “woohooo! Baby yeah!

Zoro, incredulous, commented dryly, “Call me crazy, but I think she’s actually enjoying this!”

Seizing the opportunity, I made my way toward Sanji and swiftly undid his tie. Sanji’s face flushed a deep red, and I could feel his heart racing. “Y/N, what are you—” he started, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish.

With a quick motion, I removed his tie and began wrapping it around my injured left arm. “There, that’ll stop the bleeding for now,” I said, tying it securely.

Sanji, still looking dumbfounded, watched as I finished. I approached him, pecked him on the cheek, and said, “Did I ever tell you that you look absolutely sexy without a tie?” With a playful wink, I turned and made my way back to the battlefield.

Sanji’s face turned a deeper shade of red, but his attention quickly snapped back to the fight as he saw Monet preparing her next attack.

Kidd POV…

"Kidd, I totally forgot we had a meeting to form an alliance with both Scratchman and Hawkins," Killer said, downing his fifth beer.

"Cancel the meeting, I don’t give a damn," I grumbled, chugging down my seventh beer. The room spun slightly as the alcohol took its toll. “The way Caesar’s showing the wrong people in this live recording, I don’t care about your poison gas!” I slammed my fist on the table, causing the remaining beer to slosh around.

Just then, the live transponder snail began broadcasting a room filled with children. “Little brats, what is this, a daycare live feed?” I sneered, irritation growing.

Killer chuckled, shaking his head. “At this rate, it looks like that meeting’s about to be more interesting than this.”

“I told you… DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!” came a voice through the broadcast.

Y/N. The voice cut through my drunken haze like a lightning bolt. My mind, fogged by the alcohol, began to spin into a wild fantasy, the lines between reality and imagination blurring.

In my steamy reverie, Y/N’s presence dominated every corner of my mind. I imagined her standing in front of me, her eyes blazing with defiance and raw intensity. The fantasy was visceral and unrestrained. I could almost feel her body pressed against mine, the heat of her skin melding with mine as if igniting a feverish storm. The thought of her lips against mine, of her breath mingling with my own, sent a surge of heat straight to my core.

I envisioned gripping Y/N tightly, her form writhing beneath me, every touch and gasp amplified by the raw, primal energy between us. Her voice, fierce and unyielding, was now a low, seductive growl in my ear, every word a promise of unrestrained passion. The scene played out with explosive intensity: our bodies tangled in a frenetic dance of need and desire, our movements wild and unrelenting.

The world outside ceased to exist, our connection consuming all rational thought. I imagined the intensity of her gaze as it pierced through me, her skin hot and slick against mine. Every touch was electric, every whisper a command that drove me further into a frenzy of lust. I saw us locked together, the heat of our bodies mingling, each touch igniting the other in a relentless surge of pleasure.

Sweat dripped down my brow as the fantasy reached its fever pitch. I could feel the imaginary press of Y/N’s body against mine, the way her hands gripped me, urging me closer, driving me deeper into the madness of our shared desire. Her moans begging me for more, begging for me to go faster. I can hear it now, her voice filled with pleasure, “Kidd… oh Kidd dont stop.” It was raw, untamed, a brutal collision of passion and power.

As the feed continued, Y/N's voice cut through the clamor, taunting the bird woman with a mix of defiance and strategic wit. That is until she mentioned Trafalgar laws. How he tended to her wounds, how he gave her his coat, how he had her pinned down, Y/N’s voice dripped with a mixture of pride and irritation. “That should be me doing all that!” The words were sharp and deliberate, designed to get under the bird woman's skin.

My grip tightened around the beer bottle, the fiery liquid warming my insides as I took another swig. I could feel the heat of my frustration mingling with the alcohol, fueling a storm of possessive anger. My mind raced, images of Law's smug face and Y/N's vulnerable position stirring a tempest of raw emotion within me.

Killer’s gaze was fixed on the screen, his expression reflecting the same volatile mix of fury and frustration I felt. His hands were clenched tightly, knuckles white as if they were straining against invisible chains. “I told you, Kidd, we should have gone,” he said, his voice laced with frustration and a touch of regret.

I smirked, watching Y/N’s tactical play unfold. “Damn right,” I muttered. “My fiancée sure knows how to rattle anybody she comes across.” My pride surged with every clever remark Y/N made, each taunt a testament to her strength and cunning.

Just then, my eyes widened as the scene took a brutal turn. The bird woman, furious and desperate, grabbed Y/N with a vicious grip and hurled them against the wall. My heart pounded, the raw intensity of the scene searing through my drunken haze. Y/N's body slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, and I could see the grimace of pain on their face even through the screen.

Killer let out a low growl, his frustration palpable. But then Y/N retaliated sending the bird woman a jolt of electricity.

The way Y/N retaliated, her body moving with an effortless grace that spoke of countless hours of training and determination, was captivating. Her fierce resolve, Her focus—it was intoxicating. The bird woman reeled from the electric assault, her earlier bravado dissipating as she struggled to regain her footing.

Killer, noticing my distracted, almost transfixed expression, took another swig of his beer, his eyes glinting with a mix of admiration and something darker. “She’s become quite the force to be reckoned with,” he said, his voice low but laced with a hint of intrigue. “I didn’t expect any less from her.”

I grunted, my fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly as I watched Y/N fight. “Yeah, she’s something else,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Every time I see her like this, it drives me wild.”

Killer’s smirk widened as he observed Y/N’s defensive tactics. “Looks like she knows exactly how to push their buttons,” he said, his tone dripping with admiration. “And she’s doing it brilliantly.”

My lips curled into a savage grin. “Damn right. That’s my woman out there, showing everyone what she’s made of.” I raised my beer in a celebratory gesture, the pride and possessiveness clear in my voice. “She’s got the fire in her, and she’s not afraid to use it.”

As the bird woman was forced back, her composure shattered by Y/N’s relentless assault, I felt a surge of passion and fury. Seeing Y/N fight with such intensity, their movements a testament to their strength and will, only fueled my desire. I wanted to be there, fighting alongside them, sharing in their triumphs and struggles.

“Let’s keep watching,” I said, my voice filled with a rough intensity. “I need to see every moment of this. I want to see how she handles this.”

Killer nodded, his eyes reflecting the same fervor. “Yeah, let’s see it through. She’s incredible.”

As the battle unfolded before us, the room seemed to shrink away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered passion of the fight and my unwavering fascination with Y/N.

Unknown Viewer…

As the live feed continued to capture Y/N’s fierce struggle, the three of us sat together, our eyes fixed on the screen. Y/N’s determination was palpable, her every move a testament to her strength and resilience. I couldn’t help but admire her, even as a dark plan began to take shape in my mind.

“She really is quite the woman,” one of my brothers remarked, taking a swig of his beer. His gaze was unwavering as he observed the battle. “Look at her stand her ground. It’s impressive.”

My other brother snorted, a derisive laugh escaping him. “And our failure of a brother can’t get enough of her,” he said, pointing at the screen. “He wouldn’t even know how to handle all that woman.”

The laughter that followed was harsh, but I found it fitting. The image of Y/N, fierce and unapologetic, stirred something within me. “She’s feisty, I love that in a woman,” I said, my voice filled with a mixture of admiration and darker intent. “She’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

I stood, the weight of my decision settling heavily on my shoulders. “It’s settled, then,” I declared, my tone resolute. “I’ll have father set up the arrangements. Soon, she will be mine, and we’ll be wed.”

My brothers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and approval. “And I’ll make sure she knows what true power feels like,” I continued, a cruel smile stretching across my face. “The failure will witness it all, and he’ll be powerless to stop it.”

The laughter that followed was cold, echoing through the room. “Soon, you will be mine,” I said, turning my attention back to the live feed. “And we’ll show everyone what true dominance really means.”

As the scene unfolded, the promise of what was to come hung heavily in the air. I watched with a mixture of anticipation and satisfaction, knowing that soon, everything would change.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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One Way or Another

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements but nothing too graphic in this one.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

Your last exam is over and you feel a sense of freedom lurking ahead. You can't be certain until you get your grades but with all your effort, you can't imagine you'll fall short. Now you have the whole holiday to recover. Well, you only hope it's refreshing.

Your dorm feels eerily empty so you happily hop at Jensen’s text. He still has a few roommates hanging around so you suggest he comes over. You tidy frantically, trying to hide the remnants of your studious sloth.

When he gets there, you have Netflix mindlessly playing. There's a giddiness to meeting without the lurking stress of classes or exams. No worries, just each other.

You sit on your desk chair as he admires the amiibo collection on your shelf. He sucks his teeth and turns to you with a suspicious leer.

"You didn't tell me had the special edition Link with his mastersword…" he drawls accusatorily.

"Oh, did you ask?" You stick your tongue out.

He rolls his eyes and spins, sitting heavily on your coverlet, the pattern of blue flowers on white, adding an extra dainty effect to your room, a stark contrast to his nerd cave.

"So…" he wiggles his eyebrows as he rubs the bedspread beside him.

"So," you put on a sultry tone and grin, "I thought we could do something special," you stand as seductively as you know how. It feels more awkward than sexy. "A very, very special and intimate thing…"

His eyes round as you come close and put your hands on his shoulders. You feel him tense and flex as you climb onto his lap. You straddle him and run your thumbs along his sideburns. You pull him into a kiss, slipping a taste of your tongue before you part and flutter your lashes.

"Grocery shopping!" You chime and he croaks, stifling a whimper.

"Grocery shopping?" He gulps.

"Uh huh! We can go amd pick out everything we need for or little holiday dinner and then we can come back a play some Mariokart. You said you'd bring your switch right?"

"Mariokart…" he chokes out, shifting under you, hands tentative on your hips.

"And maybe some snuggles," you giggle and lean in, kissing him deeper.

His hand shoot up your back, latching onto your neck as he keeps you from escaping again. He falls back with you but cries out as his teeth sink into your lip. You rip away from him as he touches the back of his skull where he knocked it off the wall.

You dab your lip and laugh, it's painfully fun.

"Hope you don't mind closer quarters," you tease as he pushes himself up.

"With you… the better? Is the shower big?" He winks.

"Alright, alright," you pat his chest and climb off him as you blush, "one thing at a time, let's make a list…"

"Can't we do this tomorrow?"

"The longer we wait, the busier it'll be. And besides, once we're back, I don't wanna go anywhere," you turn back and send him a look, "just you and me Jen. I wanna enjoy every second."

He huffs and clears his throat, shimmying closer to the edge. He tugs at the top of his jeans and you snatch up your phone as he adjusts his perch on the bed. Maybe it is a bit cruel but you can't help but feel flattered by his squirming.

📚

Your cart isn’t full. You don’t have much of a budget to stretch and a very economical list. Boxed stuff and turkey legs instead of the full to-do, some veggies you can manage to cook in your measly collection of pots, some cranberry sauce all for you since Jensen doesn’t enjoy it, and some buns.

“Just need to find the perfect pie,” Jensen says as he leans on the handle of the cart, “cherry?”

“Uh, pumpkin, duh.”

“Pumpkin, really?” He scowls.

“Hey, are you gonna shoot down all my suggestions?”

“Who says we can’t compromise… apple?”

“Fine, apple– oh, I forgot some more tea. I’m out of bags. Why don’t you go get in line and I’ll run to get that.”

“I don’t mind, you know I’ll follow you wherever,” he smirks crookedly.

“As cute as you are, I don’t want the checkout to get any more hectic,” you glance over at the dozen lanes open and binging.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You can survive without me,” you squeeze his arm, pausing to feel his thick bicep. Oh.

“Went up a weight set,” he gloats as he stands straight and bends his arm to emphasize his muscle, “I’ll let you have a closer look later.”

“Please, tone it down,” you shake your head.

“Says the one feeling me up in the pastry section,” he tuts, “I’ll go and brave the hordes.”

“Right,” you scoff and leave him.

As you turn, you nearly run into another shopper. The place is buzzing with the pre-holiday crowds. You dodge and sneak between two tables of discount sugar cookies.

You head along the dairy section, the refrigeration chilling you through your unzipped jacket, and you weave between carts and bodies. You dip down the coffee section and wait for a couple to move out of the way of the tea. You toe in and peruse the labels, looking for your exact brand and leaf.

You find the tag but the spot is empty. Of course! It’s always gone. You frown and search for an alternative. At the very top shelf, you see the reserves. You peak the purple label of your tea. You just need to reach it.

You stand on your toes and stretch out, leaning to grasp for air. Another hand swoops up and grabs the box with ease. You wince and put your feet flat, glancing over at the helpful stranger as he holds out the tea.

“Thanks, I–”

The box moves out of your reach as you come face to face with Professor Rogers. You take a step back, hitting someone else, only to inch back towards the last person you expected or wanted to see. You almost pout as he gives a thought look to the tea.

“Huh, English Breakfast, I would’ve guessed Earl Grey,” he remarks as his blue eyes flick up.

“Professor,” you utter.

“Got a big dinner planned?” He asks, his tone gristly as his glare bores into you.

“Not really,” you lie and turn back to the shelf, “uh, sorry, I thought… I was just grabbing this.”

You grab the yellow box of cheap orange pekoe but before you can flee, he grips your arm, holding you in place as he leans in. You shudder as his breath fans over you as he bends to nuzzle your hair.

“I know you’re with him. Playing fucking house. Enjoy the game while it lasts,” he growls, “cause I’m not playing any more.”

He lets you go as you tear away from him and you nearly topple over. You sputter and look around for some help. Everyone else is too entranced by their own lists and hunts for the next item.

“Get away,” you hiss.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters under his breath as he drops the box in his basket, “you’re not worth that much trouble. But one day you’ll be alone. Or you’ll think are…”

He slowly pivots and puffs out his chest. He lets out a snicker and you see the flicker in his face, like a shadow passing over. It flies away and he reaches past an older woman to grab the bag of sugar she’s straining for.

“Allow me, miss,” he says to her adoring gaze.

You don’t stick around to see the performance. You know what Professor Rogers is and you know that now that he’s shown you, there’s nothing holding him back.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #professor!steve #college au #one #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel

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b-h-art · 4 months ago

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i just wanna thank you all here on tumblr who'(of not bd origin)s been sharing all the news and posts of Bangladesh. Seeing people care, seeing people actually fckn wanting to stand up for us even tho you didnt have to.Also after all, many people of our own didnt stand up for the martyred people either and most probably tomorrow's gonna be a day of huge bloodshed too. The student league of the current government (bcl) have been taking preparation to meet the students tomorrow in the capital and they've even posted about killing off every protesters who're demanding the govt to give up power and also spreading rumors that they're gonna kill us all off in 7 minutes-which yes is ridiculous im just adding this to say how much confident the government party still is that they're gonna just wipe off the protest and they're not gonna stop at any cost. But, fortunately, the students are not going to too. I dont know how many activity status dots in messenger will go off for forever tomorrow. I dont know how many replies our group chat will have after tomorrow. But still for the blood already shed, the brothers and sisters already martyred, the students will still InShaAllah come out in the streets again following the leaders. Many of us can do nothing but just share posts and encourage the ones who can go there. And here on tumblr i see so many people supportinh OUR cause beside palestine ,sudan, congo and others. and I'm so grateful for that. Even after many of our own are murdering their own brothers and sisters for a cup of tea yet there still is humanity living in every corner of earth. I'm so grateful to you guys for reminding me that.

ps. the awami students league, even tho they werent active today in the capital massacared cumilla and sylhet district (please add more if you know) Even after the prime minister called for a peaceful meeting with the students to settle this once and for all. The students declined demanding her resignation for letting so many students be killed. The army cheif held meeting nationwide and declared they're not going to interfere and also the police surrendered to the students. (which yes is kinda sus if u think about it)

pss. please feel free to comment and notify me if i left out something or said something wrong, im only a human keeping up with so many things happening around me and stresed out very fckn much thank you

FREE VENEZUELA!

FREE PALESTINE!

FREE CONGO!

FREE CUBA!

FREE SUDAN!

FREE BANGLADESH!

This is the link to a video showing more than 1lakh people of all walks of life joined today in a gathering in the central shaheed minar (memorial for the language martyrs ). I just wanna say, ei deshetei jonmo jeno ei deshetei mori.

#bangladesh #all eyes on bangladesh #save bangladeshi students #save bangladesh #step down sheikh hasina #free palestine #free sudan #free ukraine #free congo #free venezuela

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 1 year ago

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Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 16.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: whoops plot. I didn't really proofread this — sorry. Also sorry it is taking so long for the chapters to come out. I hope you still love me.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Links: Part 1, ….. Part 15, Part 16, Part 17

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Maybe it was the expensive clothes you were wearing. Maybe it was the understated, quiet luxury of the handbag you walked through that office door carrying. Could it be the shoes? Surely the casual observer couldn’t have noticed the bright red soles of the brand new Louboutins on your feet as you walked.

Perhaps there was some extra oxygen filling up your chest somehow making you carry yourself with an added bit of confidence; making you feel as if you could float away with even the slightest breeze.

You felt as if you were a completely different person. You felt as if the others could tell. It couldn’t just all be happening inside of your head either because you caught evidence of some reactions to you; little things. Tiny double takes as you walked by. Slight widening of eyes when you entered your meetings; slight twinges in the expressions of their faces; barely detectable save for how very aware of yourself and of all of them you felt inside of your skin right now.

So much was new. So much felt different.

You were, in very new and very real ways, very suddenly and unequivocally … somebody’s.

And that somebody he was — he was yours too.

It had a taste to it — it was rich and sweet and secretive and quick. A fresh baked cookie swiped when Mom’s back was turned. Hasty kisses stolen behind heavy wooden doors and brushes of warm fingertips over the back of a hand as you walked by. The whispered lean of a warm shoulder against your own as you both stood in an elevator; surrounded by people; acutely aware of the rhythm of only eachother’s breathing.

A smell like very early morning just before dawn on Christmas Day; the smell of pine and cinnamon and the crisp chill of snow outside, like hiding at the top of the stairs to catch a forbidden glimpse of Santa Claus.

Warm brown eyes from across a hectic room touched into yours again and again. You knew you were staring. You had very little control over it though. This was so very unlike you. Baekhyun was as busy as you had been. The project was wrapping today and loose ends had to be tied up. Final documents had to be submitted to clients. Plus he had been training his replacement on all of his tasks and duties. Tomorrow would be the wrap party. You could hardly wait to unclench. You’d have some drinks with your team and you’d even get to dance. Maybe you could get away with a dance or two with your soon to be ex-assistant without drawing too many curious gazes.

You could dance together one or twice, couldn’t you? You could stand to be held in his arms and swung around the dance floor without leaning in too close or gazing too deeply into his deep brown eyes as you did it, right?

You did your absolute best to look at something else; at anything else.

Those deep brown eyes had found yours once again. Again and again, he found you. Maybe it wasn’t only you who had been staring at him as he showed Assistant Cha the ropes; as he leaned in and spoke very closely with her; as he told her things that made her head roll back and big belly laughs erupted from her bosom that shook like jelly when she laughed dramatically with her whole body.

She reached a hand out and her fingertips touched lightly along his forearm; making contact for a fraction of a second — no more time than the width of a strand of hair. Not enough time of actual contact to warrant any sort of comment about it at all. It was not even any real touch on his skin even; she got his shirt sleeve. This was nothing. This certainly wasn’t anything that warranted such a ridiculously detailed description inside the ever-present internal monologue that played through your head when you thought about this man. It could hardly even be called a touch, really.

Still…she touched his arm. She laughed and giggled and smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at him and you knew, you knew what it felt like to look at him and talk to him and feel that attraction and desire and lust and want. You knew of the kinds of irrational and impossible fantasies that would fly through her head at the very thought of just one of her desperate touches being returned by him.

You could not blame her. He was beautiful.

He moved his arm down and away; probably purposefully. He was reaching for something and just before he spoke, just before his movement nagged at her focus and pulled her dreamy eyes away from his pretty face and down onto what he had to show her, just before his focus dropped to the papers or notebooks or tablet or whatever the hell it was that he held inside his hand, you had them once more; those deep brown eyes that looked into yours from across this space; those brown eyes of his that found yours again and again no matter where you were and no matter where he was — it was like a magnet. He looked at you and you looked at him and the sound and the commotion and the ever present din inside of this busy workspace fell weirdly silent to your own ears.

You had to stop this.

You pulled your focus away from the two of them and you looked around the room at your team. It took so much effort to do.

With the exception of one person, the entire team was immersed in their own tasks. There was a bittersweet vibe in the air and each and every one of these people, to the very end, was giving it their all.

As your eyes made their way around to each desk, glimpsing lightly over its occupant, you reached a person who’s presence had been so familiar to you that you only half jumped to find her looking right at you.

Sandi, a senior member of your translating team and the person who occupied the seat closest to your office door, the person who had worked with you for probably the longest out of all of the group, who you had shared many long nights with over the course of your career, Sandi was watching you with a quiet amusement on her face.

You met her eyes with as much strength and fortitude as you could manage but you admittedly felt a bit taken aback to have had her attention during this time; this time when you foolishly had assumed no one could possibly be paying any attention to you.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Perhaps a small smile in your direction and maybe she would resume her work. Or maybe she was watching you because she had a question for you. You strengthened the eye contact with Sandi and lifted your eyebrows in question. Doing your absolute best to keep any guilty expressions from manifesting in your eyes.

You definitely hadn’t expected the next words that came out of her mouth.

“You should stop watching them. She doesn’t hold a candle—“ she began out loud but just as suddenly as she spoke, her words halted abruptly as she closed up her mouth with a start, shaking her head in quick shallow passes. The small self-satisfied smile that had been coloring her lips before she opened her mouth had now slipped away and her eyes widened as she turned her head away from you; averting her eyes. She lifted a hand to cover over her mouth, clearly surprised that she would say such a thing out loud.

Sandi may have been surprised by herself, but you felt blindsided. You felt your mouth go dry and a spindly tingling slowly crept up the back of your neck.

She knew.

Sandi knew.

You felt sick.

The panic that surged through you was swift and complete and it took your breath and what was left of your rational mind.

Without your mind working, all you could manage was to stare down at the girl in silence until you exhaled a purposefully slow breath through your mouth. She had both of her hands over her parted lips and she was reeling. You felt similarly but thankfully years of working through impossible and stressful situations where your facial expression mattered, kept the reeling happening inside of you where it should stay.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, Miss Manager. I didn’t mean—”

“Sandi — come see me in my office, please.”

Sandi knew you better than most. You’d worked closely beside her for so many years, if anyone would have noticed the obvious change in you since you’d met Baekhyun it would be Sandi. It made the most sense that she would have noticed something was going on. But still, you felt blindsided by this revelation. It wasn’t that you didn't trust the woman, you did. If anyone in this office was going to know such a damning secret about you, it might as well be Sandi.

You felt guilty. You felt very much in the wrong. You’d always strived to set such a good example to your team members and here you’d been caught red-handed, having done such a thing with your direct subordinate of all people, with your assistant! Yes, yes you had already processed his transfer, met with his new team lead, you were doing your absolute best to remove Baekhyun from any and every position beside you, beneath you, any connection to you as quickly as you possibly could. But the fact remained, you were in direct violation of company policy. You should have come clean to HR the second you’d realized just how inappropriate the professional relationship with Baekhyun had turned to have him transferred out that very day.

But you had been weak.

You had delayed it; torn by the very thought of losing him from your side and now…now someone knew. What if she had the wrong idea? What if she thought you used your influence over him to coerce him into the relationship? What if she thought it was one sided, or what if she used this new-found information to hold over you?

You shook your head back and forth as she walked through the doorway of your office and quietly closed the door behind her. Her head was downcast and she moved slowly through the space to take a seat beside where you sat with your hands clenched together in your lap on the small sofa in the center of the room.

“Miss Manager, I really didn’t mean anything bad by what I said. I was just thinking out loud and it slipped out.” She began quickly, as soon you felt the cushion dip when she sat down.

“Can you tell me what you meant by it?” You kept your voice low and careful as you replayed her words again in your mind, a quiet disbelief dancing along the edges of your memory. Maybe you heard her wrong, or maybe she didn't mean it exactly as it sounded to you. Maybe your guilty conscience had you running when nothing was even chasing you.

She didn't speak for a few moments and you swallowed the moisture inside your mouth, lifted your head and looked around the clean space of your office.

“You said that I can stop watching them, who do you think I was watching?” You probed again, realizing that your face, which was angled away from her now, might have not been as in control as usual. You could feel the dampness in your eyes and you blinked quickly.

“Baekhyun and Assistant Cha. Nothing is going on there. There is nothing to worry about. I’m on your side, by the way — both of you.”

You had confirmed it.

She knew.

You felt your steady resolve crumble with the deep sigh of defeat that left your chest and the oxygen leaving your lungs pulled your eyelids closed until all of the light was shut out for a moment. Just for a moment.

You only needed one moment.

“How did you know?” The delicacy of your words, tantamount to a confession, balanced lightly on the tip of your tongue. Your voice sounded so much smaller than you were used to hearing from yourself.

Her reply did not come instantly but the delay in her response, you knew, was more imagined by your own sense of urgency than in anything she was doing. Still, you were impatient to know; enough to turn your gaze from the safety of the silent bookshelf full of items you had owned and controlled for years to look anxiously upon the expressions written on her face and the unpredictable and uncontrollable harsh truths you might find in her eyes.

“Does anyone else know?” You whispered another quiet question, despite the fact that she hadn’t answered the first one yet.

Her eyes watched your face and in them you saw a lightness and warmth. On her lips was the smallest sweet smile that brought you back again to the woman you knew so well; the woman you had worked with closely over the years on several projects, through countless sleepless nights, tirelessly and side by side. The valuable member of your team who proved herself to be trustworthy and reliable. The woman you sought out first when something needed to be handled discreetly and quickly.

She was watching your face and she inhaled a small breath to speak.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who could possibly know,” she said with that soft smile still inside her warm eyes. She was reaching into her pocket to pull out her cellphone and you looked down at her illuminated screen as she opened up an app. It was Instagram. She clicked a few times and eventually landed on a profile that was familiar. It was Baekhyun’s account and a few harmless pictures down his feed, her fingers stopped scrolling when she reached something that you knew would be a picture he had posted one of the nights he’d spent in your bed.

It was an innocuous shot of his hand holding your hand with only an alarm clock visible in the background. The time read 02:16 A.M. and it sat atop a wooden bedside table. Nothing else was in focus. The background of the picture was blurred beyond recognition with only a hazy outline of the very tip of the tail of your darkened bird lamp but definitely not anything that was recognizable about it. Neither of you wore any jewelry that might possibly come back to you. You looked at the words he wrote below the image — ‘I die for any little bit of you, my love.’ — and while yes, it had filled you with butterflies and made you kick and scream under your covers in secret when you saw what he wrote, for the purposes of Sandi identifying you from just this— was she a witch? How could she possibly have known?

There was nothing there. Nothing that pointed to you so conclusively that she would present this evidence to you with such conviction.

“From his posts, I knew he was seeing someone, but when I saw this, it suddenly made sense — how you could have changed so much since he joined. Anyway, I bought you that clock as a Secret Santa gift last year. So obviously I would be the only one to recognize it. I am glad to see you still use it.”

“Would you believe me if I said I gave the clock away to my sister, so that couldn’t possibly be me in the picture?”

You said it jokingly; feeling as if a switch had been flipped with Sandi since she knew something so very damning about you. What authority and respect? This woman saw and knew too much. You now had a confidant and maybe even a friend. Oh no! What if you had to transfer her to another department too? You couldn’t keep losing your best people like this just because you couldn’t keep your work life separated from your personal life.

You honestly felt as if you’d lost all control in this job the moment that man walked through your office door on his first day of work.

“You don’t have a sister.”

“Right,” you conceded quickly.

“Miss Manager,” Sandi began after a few moments, “you don’t need to feel so guilty about this. I really don’t think either of you have done anything wrong. And isn’t that why he’s being transferred so suddenly? To avoid any problems with the company.”

“And let me guess. He made the first move, right? I’m certain of it. I noticed how he looks at you. Since last year even.”

“Last year? You knew him from before this project?”

“You don’t remember him? He was interning with Manager Jung Ho. Ahhh maybe it was the red hair and the glasses.”

Sandi still had her phone out and was scrolling again, this time through her own photo albums that went back through the years. You recognized yourself in many of the shots. Candid pictures as you both worked, a few of the group laughing together as the team unwound after some particularly hectic days. Her scrolling stopped abruptly and you looked down to where she touched with her index finger on a pretty boy with wavy red hair, wearing round gold wire glasses and standing literally right beside you, his eyes looking at you while you were about as busy as could be focusing on putting out several fires at once.

“Here he is. Always following around Miss Manager Noona. Always staring at Miss Manager Noona and talking about Miss Manager Noona. He was so annoying,” she said with a hearty laugh. She scrolled again and image after image showed a similar scene, Baekhyun taking stolen glances at you and you with your mind so occupied at the time you didn’t even remember him. The more pictures you saw of the young red-head with the glasses the more the actual memories of him popped into your mind.

He was bright and chipper and you never did catch his name at the time. He was noisy and full of laughter and full of life and you…well, you had a dark storm cloud hanging over your head back then. Last year was a hard year for you. You had some professional failures that you still dwelled on and some even worse personal failures involving one relationship that still burned you to think about. You’d nearly given up on all things romance at the time; sworn off men forever with their lies and their cheating ways. It was no wonder your eyes had been so blind to the entire person standing beside you; rooting for you; building you up as he had done back then.

You remembered him more as you looked at the pictures. Now his face was so recognizable to you, after you had fallen in love with everything about him, you’d even be able to spot him with bright blue hair and a fake mustache on. But apparently all it had taken was a pair of glasses and a wavy red perm.

“I can’t believe he pulled a Superman-Clark Kent on me — ohhhh…look at how cute he was!” You cooed right out loud. A momentary lapse made you forget where you were and as soon as the sickeningly saccharine words left your lips you lifted a hand to cover over your parted lips.

She laughed out loud , “Oh no, you’ve got it bad. You’ll invite me to the wedding, won’t you?”

She was joking when she said it but you closed up your mouth and pulled both of your lips between your teeth, biting down to try and keep from doing something stupid like squealing from the pent up excitement you felt when you thought about marrying him. Your strong reaction was yet another confession. She had gone motionless the moment you didn't laugh it off as just a funny joke.

“Of course you are invited,” you whispered just under your breath and her laughter quit suddenly, her lips hung open, and her eyes widened significantly.

“Oh my god. What? What?!” She was whispering, but it was a very loud and very excited sounding whisper. “Are you serious?”

You felt her hands grip around your upper arms and she gave you a good shake. It made the laughter break free from your chest and you were giggling now. It was useless to fight it. You could feel the excitement building the more she shook you and the louder her whispering giggles grew. You lifted both hands to cover over your face as your entire body shook with laughter.

You gave into it; the joy and anticipation that her genuine excitement brought out of you and by the time you heard the soft two knocks on your office door you had to wipe away moisture from your eyes from giggling so much before you could compose yourself enough to call out to whoever was knocking that the door was unlocked and they could come in.

The door was pushed and a familiar head of blond hair poked inside just before you saw the rest of his face.

“Miss Manager,” Baekhyun spoke cautiously with his face carefully controlled as he said it. Not even any flirtatious tones hidden in a sweet grin or a secret wink. He was on his best behavior today with so many witnesses around. You hadn’t had a single pointed look from him in hours. It had been at least two hours since you felt the warmth of his fingertips on the skin of the back of your hand. It had been a solid hour since he had looked into your eyes for longer than thirty seconds and allowed those eyes to slip down and steal a glance at your lips.

“You have a meeting upstairs in five,” he said and he pushed the door open further. You could make out Assistant Cha standing just behind him; a thick and heavily scribbled notebook held up to her chest with both of her arms wrapped tightly around it as if it carried all of the secrets of her very new and scary universe.

You nodded your head to the pair of them and quickly gathered your end-of-project meeting materials.

Sandi was excusing herself quietly; if not rather slowly. You caught the lingering examination she gave to Baekhyun as she made her way around the sofa you both had been squealing on moments earlier and seemed to be taking her time with the exit. If he noticed anything amiss, he didn't make it known, but after a few moments of her looking into his face she simply nodded her head once, smiled a sweet smile in his direction and said a quick, “Okay, okay. I can see it. I could have sworn you used to wear glasses.”

You bit down on the side of your tongue to suppress any remaining giggles.

Baekhyun’s eyes danced around her face for a moment in mild confusion and he frowned his lips with a tiny pout, inhaling lightly and parting his lips to respond. But before he could offer any explanation she turned her head back in your direction, gave you a small wave of her hand and a quick, “See you at the wrap party, Miss Manager,” and she then was gone.

You’d made it half of the way through the rows of cubicles when a tap on your shoulder halted your steps and pulled your attention behind you. You recognized that the person calling you was Baekhyun and your eyes were pulled down toward his hand in which he held a small post-it note.

“Excuse me, Miss Manager, I think you dropped this,” he said as he pushed the small folded-in-half piece of colorful paper into the palm of your hand. You knew you must have had a questioning look inside your eyes, at least for the first few seconds of this, but you quickly recovered with a nod and a quiet thank-you on your lips. You slipped the paper inside the pocket of your blazer.

As your legs moved, you noticed that Baekhyun and Assistant Cha held back some, and your curiosity about the small token from your boyfriend felt absolutely itchy. It was as if that small note was pulsing as it called to you from inside your pocket. You slipped your hand in and pulled it out, glancing around quickly to take note of the fact that no one around was paying you any attention at all and with Baekhyun’s steps so far behind you figured no one would mind if you read whatever little details might have been written just for you on this note.

‘I miss you today. You are right here and I miss you to death. I am being so brave about it. You can compliment me about it later, if you want.

P.S. Which season do you like best?’

You silently slipped the note back inside your pocket with a lovely little tap over the fabric to make sure it was secure. You felt as if this elevator you stood inside was carrying you straight into the clouds above this building. He probably couldn't text you freely because of the close proximity of his shadow, Assistant Cha. Or maybe he just wanted to hand you this adorable little note as a physical token of his affection; something you could hold in your hand and lightly touch with the tip of your finger. You half wondered if you should just text him back the answer to his question.

Instead you held your finger over the elevator button to keep it open long enough for the pair of assistants to finally join you inside and you caught the briefest touch of his brown eyes as he stepped inside.

His eyes did not linger. Yours did not chase but you did feel the distinct presence of the warmth of his body as he stepped into the space directly behind you. There were no secret touches or hidden attempts to reach for you inside this space. The high speed elevator surged up quickly; its destination was amongst the upper floors and with the abrupt movement you rocked lightly on your legs to keep your balance. You reached a hand out to rest it over the bar and a glance to your right, just over your shoulder afforded you the view of a familiar hand doing the same. Long slender fingers flexed once outward in your direction, but his hand did not move any closer to you and eventually those fingers simply wrapped around the silver pole for the remainder of the elevator ride.

You would not let your fingers leave his skin tonight.

You’d had your fill of denial.

The meeting was typical for this stage of a project. You paid exactly enough attention as you needed to. Your presentation showcased your team’s successes and honestly, although you didn’t tend to toot your own horn, your own performance looked incredibly impressive as well. Although with such a capable team it was hard not to look incredible. You gave credit where credit was due as you always did and as the other managers and directors said their parts you pulled out a small note pad from your bag and began penning a response to your boyfriend. You did your best to keep your face from showing too much but you could feel the elation pulling your lips into a small smile as you drew the little sad faced emoji in the middle of the note.

‘You are very brave, and doing so much better than I am. I got caught staring at you today. :( Sandi knows now.

P.S. I like the fall. Winter is too cold, Spring is too sneezy, and Summer is too hot. Although you kissed me in the summertime so I like it now too.

P.P.S. I remember you now, from Jung Ho’s project. I didn’t know you wore glasses.

P.P.P.S. It’s not fair for you to look so handsome in every hair color. ’

You stopped writing when you ran out of space. This all could have gone so much smoother in a text message, but there was something magical about writing all of this out in a note to secretly pass to him in person.

Your meeting ended and there was another meeting coming up just after lunch. Your busy schedule and the ever present assembly of people around you didn’t give you any opportunities to pass on the note. And when you would have normally both found yourselves alone with each other, now there was an entirely new person around with her own set of eyes, watching and learning all sorts of things about her new position. And hopefully just that.

She was fine. You could tell that Baekhyun was right about her. She would do well and she would succeed in her new role. You would come to depend on her and appreciate her too. Maybe even the strange undeserved bitterness you felt when you looked at her pretty young face would fade.

But now, you wished she had some other place she desperately had to be.

You found your chance just after lunch when Assistant Cha had departed to the bathrooms. You spotted Baekhyun leaning against a pillar on the ground floor checking the time on his watch, looking about as handsome as could be in his suit and ignoring the many curious glances from various ladies and men who walked by him. He seemed to be waiting for something and you slipped closer to where he stood, careful not to be spotted as you made your way around the other side of the pillar.

You’d reached a hand out to tap on his shoulder at the exact moment that a ping sounded out on his cell phone and he moved out of the way just as your fingers extended so that they touched nothing. You felt a little silly.

While you felt a tinge of disappointment that you’d missed your chance, you also felt a surge of mild curiosity about what he was up to. He made his way toward the security turnstiles and met with a run-of-the mill food delivery man who handed him a small black bag from a local bakery down the block. You’d recognized the logo of one of your favorite shops that had the absolute best fruit tarts you’d ever had and a chocolate cake slice that you’d just about sell your soul for.

He was walking back with his head and his focus turned down into the small bag and you spun on your heels behind your pillar so he would not see you stalking him.

Your feet moved lightly, feeling like you were in some sort of spy movie as you moved along with him, yet just out of his sight as he made his way toward the elevator. The button was pressed, the lights illuminated and after a few moments the soft ding let you know that he would be stepping forward into that quiet space. What kind of deal with the devil did you have to make for that elevator to be empty?

He stepped inside and you held back. You counted in your head just a few times before moving and just as the doors were closing you slipped inside the space, earning the quiet gasp from the very center of his chest when he saw you.

It was empty. You had him alone for a few seconds at least.

“Excuse me, Assistant Byun, I think you dropped this.” You did your best impression of him and held up the little colorful note you had with a cheeky smile that he returned instantly as he reached out quick fingertips to grab the note.

Baekhyun wasted no time. His fingers pulled the small sheet apart and his mouth moved as he silently formed the words of your message with his lips.

“Oh my god,” he gasped quietly; having absorbed the bad news from the note first, “Sandi knows? How?”

“She’s a better detective than Batman,” you shrugged rather casually. Both because you trusted Sandi and you figured if you weren’t freaking out about this, then maybe he would take it in stride as well. “She showed me some pictures of you from last year.”

“Did she?” His lips were pulled into a smile and you caught the little lift of his chin and the scrunch of his nose.

You nodded twice, acutely aware of how telling the smile on your face must look to him. “I remember you. I didn't know your name though. But you looked very cute with the little glasses and the hair,” you lifted a hand to make a waving motion with your fingers above your own head. “Did you get LASIK? Where are the glasses?”

He was reaching a hand out to press a button on the elevator panel and his eyes narrowed slightly as he pursed his lips.

“Oh, that was just fashion. They never had any lenses in them. I have perfect vision.”

His clarification made you laugh out loud. You leaned against the back wall of the elevator and looked into his face freely, feeling every bit of the affection and attraction you had for the man fill up your chest with contentment. At last, you had a moment alone with him. You could look at him. You could stare at him and you could daydream and you could let every single recent memory of the love you shared with him flood your mind freely in this shared space without onlookers or witnesses.

Baekhyun leaned against the side wall, doing just about the exact same thing to you and when his head leaned back against the elevator wall his eyelids sank down half closed, his jaw relaxed, and his lips parted with a slow exhale of air from deep within his lungs.

“I wish I could touch you,” he whispered under his breath.

“Me too,” you confessed, “stupid cameras,” you added without breaking eye contact with him; although you did let your head fall some to rest against the back wall.

“I’ll kiss you in the wintertime,” he said with a smile pulling at his lips, “so you don't feel the cold so much.” His sweet words and that pretty smile pulled a matching smile from you. You lifted a hand to cover over your mouth, tapping lightly over your lips with your fingertips.

“Let’s have a winter wedding,” he said.

“This winter? So soon?” You didn’t hear any objection in your voice. Only curiosity.

He nodded and blinked his eyes slowly; a truly dreamy expression taking over his features.

“We can honeymoon somewhere without pollen and I will kiss you in the springtime.”

You couldn’t stand it. You felt ready to burst right here inside this elevator; just from his sweet, romantic promises that coated you from head to toe.

In the recesses of your mind; in the bargaining parts, you could hear the questions parading by.

What if you reached a hand out and pressed the button for the ground floor on this elevator panel. What if you pulled him by the shirt sleeve — didn’t give a good damn about who saw — and marched him right out of this office building, out onto the street, and hailed a cab destined for your apartment. What if you said screw who knew the truth, screw the wrap and the endless droning meetings, screw this job. What if you took him home and you locked both of you inside your home for a month straight. Nothing but the two of you and the privacy you would find in that bedroom.

“I miss you,” he said softly under his breath with his eyes still locked onto your face. Your mind had been wandering but his words pulled you back into yourself.

“I’m right here,” you said with a small smile, blinking your eyes slowly and purposefully in his direction again and again, as if you could send him a message with their movement — I love you, I love you, I love you — your eyelids called out to him.

“I miss you, though,” he said again with a long exhale from his lungs. “What am I going to do next week when I can't look up and see you whenever I want?”

The elevator slowed its rapid upward movement and you could feel it in your stomach as it slowed to a stop. Someone must be joining; you hadn’t yet reached your destination but it appeared that someone would come and interrupt this. Damn them. A soft ding let you know the doors were about to open. Your few moments of alone time with him was coming to an end.

Baekhyun was still talking though; still lost inside his own head and caught up in the dread of the upcoming changes you both would need to adjust to.

“I sound pathetic, don’t I?” You had to look away from his face but from your peripherals you caught the small step he took in your direction as he moved closer to you.

“Baekhyun, someone is coming in.” You didn’t have time to reassure him that this feeling he was going through was not something he was alone in. You also felt the loneliness and the ache to touch him. You were also feeling the sense of dread for the upcoming weeks without him by your side.

But right now was not the time. Not with this camera above both of your heads and the elevator doors about to open and whoever it was that had called the elevator was about to walk in.

A few simultaneous sensations happened. You could feel the jolt as the elevator came to a full stop and, at the same time, Baekhyun’s soft fingertips brushed against the back of your hand. He had taken another step it seemed and he was beside you; his wandering hand reaching down to run a slow path over your skin down the back of your hand. You felt the moment his fingers wrapped around your palm and slipped lower as each fingertip slipped just in-between your own fingers.

You had to pull away. The doors opened.

You pulled your hand out of his grip quickly, if not a bit forcefully, and you stepped away at the same time; putting a good two steps worth of distance between the two of you. You brought your hands in front of you and clasped them together and you looked up just in time to make eye contact with a terrifyingly familiar set of brown eyes. Brown eyes that bore a strikingly frightening resemblance to the very same brown eyes that had been burning a hole into your heart all day long.

You were sure the first few moments of the eye contact, you had a look of absolute panic. You were certain he would have seen fear in your eyes.

You did your best to push a smile to your face. Inside of your chest your heartbeat had jolted to life, sending thundering booms through your entire torso. You felt the trembling from it. You swallowed nervously and you could hardly hear your own words from your lips over the echo of your racing heart inside of your eardrums.

“President Byun,” you said softly; wincing internally at just how terrified you sounded as you said his name. “Lovely to see you, Sir.”

Your greeting earned you a curt head nod and his eyes immediately moved to touch upon his son’s face.

“What floor?” You were closest to the buttons and you inhaled through your parted lips and forced the air back out slowly, desperately hoping your question hadn’t sounded stupid. He was the president and every one knew his offices occupied the top floor.

“Top?” Your finger hovered over the button and your nervous question another swift nod of his head. He spared you only a fraction of his attention before he was standing beside Baekhyun, who kept his eyes fixed securely on the closing elevator doors.

The doors closed and you stepped back, holding your hands together in front of your abdomen so they wouldn't tremble and give away the raging anxiety that was surging through you right now.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You knew seeing his father again after all that had transpired between you and Baekhyun would bring some strong emotions but you were having about as strong a reaction as you could take quietly. It was the suddenness of this.

You kind of just wanted to run away from this. Yet you were trapped inside this moving box with these two men who hadn’t spoken a word to each other despite sharing a familial bond, sharing a bloodline, sharing a home for most of Baekhyun’s life, you couldn't help but notice that Baekhyun hadn’t even said hello to the man. Nor had the man said anything to his son, but the two of them merely stood side by side in this elevator and looked ahead with blank and passive faces.

You felt a tickle in your throat. It was the nerves. You fought the urge to cough and quickly realized it was useless and you turned your head a little and cleared your throat, trying to rid yourself of the annoying feeling without actually coughing inside a closed elevator in a time when coughing in public was a major faux pas.

The sound of your own throat cleaning was timed perfectly with the sound of President Byun’s feet as he took a single step forward so that he was standing ahead of the both of you and he inhaled a breath into his lungs to speak out loud into the space right in front of his face.

“I have received some very interesting news this morning,” President Byun said in a steady and confident voice without any flinching in his body language to favor one side of him or another. There was nothing given to indicate that he was speaking to any one of you in particular.

“What is that, Sir,” Baekhyun said; at last acknowledging his father. You couldn't find the nerve to get your own voice to work. You held your breath and then tried your best to keep your breathing steady and even. You felt the slight pain in the back of your hand as your nails gripped hard into your own flesh.

He didn’t turn around to look at either of you when he spoke again, he merely inhaled a breath, opened his mouth and dropped a bomb right on top of both of your heads.

“I heard that you think … that you’re getting married.”

[To Be Continued]

Links: Part 1, …. Part 15, Part 16, Part 17

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 3 months ago

Text

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 19

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: None

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I don’t give myself time to miss Jensen as I spend every spare minute preparing for the audition. I finally pick a song: Hopelessly Devoted To You. I want the best chance to show that I can be a good Sandy. Between memorising the monologue and lyrics, I work on staying active. There’s no way of knowing what the choreography will be, so I can’t practice that, but I can make sure I’m prepared for anything. I try to enact everything I’ve learnt in class.

When I finally check my phone I see a bunch of texts from Jensen, mostly links to articles about relaxation.

Good luck with the audition tomorrow!You’ll do amazing!Don’t get too in your headJust relax and be yourselfI hope these articles help

I want to call him but know I need to rest my voice after hours of singing and rehearsing otherwise it will all be for nothing.

I’ll read them now Thanks

In the large auditorium, I collect my number and stick it to my shirt before heading with everyone else to the main stage. The director introduces herself and welcomes everyone before introducing the choreographer and leaving him to teach a routine. He leads a quick stretch and warm up to ensure no one’s going to pull a muscle or injure themselves before going through a jazz routine. We go over it a few times slowly with him counting us in and walking around the stage providing guidance were possible, before he puts on some music and leads it at a faster pace. I focus on hitting every beat and making each step while also steadying my breathing so I don’t panic. Once he’s satisfied with everyones understanding of the short dance he restarts the song and the director comes back onto the stage. She wanders around assessing everyone as we focus on the moves. Once the song comes to an end, she thanks everyone and ushers us back into the hall to wait for the next instructions. I take a seat on the ground leaning against a wall and sip water as I relax my body and steady my breathing and heartrate. While I sit there I also run through the monologue.

Time passes slowly as I wait for my number to be called. As I wait one of the other girls sits beside me and we chat. I’m thankful for the welcome distraction as we help each other relax. When I finally hear my number she wishes me luck and I stand up and make my way back to the stage. As I enter the big doors again the sound mixer asks for my song selection, so I tell her and she lines it up while explaining to give her a nod when I’m ready. I then walk into the middle of the stage, marked with a red X made out of duct tape. The director welcomes me and tells me to start whenever I’m ready. I take a few deep breaths and nod over at the sound department. The notes of Hopelessly Devoted to You echo through the hall and I start to sing. I draw on old emotions from when I was devoted to men who cast me aside and tear up alittle. After the first chorus the music fades out and I relax for a beat before moving into the monologue. I deliver it with power, emotion and passion. When I finish she thanks me and urges me to wait in the hall.

I know better than to get my hopes up or get too disappointed too early, so I go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face to quell the adrenaline and nerves. I know they won’t announce callbacks until the end of the day, so I find a secluded space outside yet undercover and out of the freeing breeze and light drizzling snow. I pull out my phone and in lieu of messaging the person who got me into the mess in the first place, I message Jensen.

Audition’s done. Just waiting for them to announce callbacks So nervous

A few seconds later his name pops up on my screen. I slide across to answer.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asks in his deep Texan drawl.

“I already told you. Nervous!”

“That’s normal, but how do you think you went? You happy with your performance?”

“Yeah. I’m proud of myself.”

“That’s my girl. I’m proud of you too. Give me a reason to come watch some broadway.”

“You’ll be back in Vancouver by the time live shows start.”

“I get weekends. I’d make time to come see you.”

“If you start coming to New York regularly people are gona start asking questions.”

“Let ‘em. I don’t care. I’d only be worried about it impacting you, but I can be discreet. We can make it work.”

“I gotta get a callback first. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I know you wouldn’t have had to do auditions in a while, but surely you remember the process and slim chances.”

“All too well. But I can tell by the state of your apartment that you take rejection better than I used to…I remember putting my fist through a wall and then calling my dad in tears.”

“I’ve never put my fist through a wall, but there’s definitely been tears.”

“Yeah, it’s a rough industry, but I have every faith that you can- Uh, sorry, Darlin’, I gotta go, my agent’s calling.”

“Alright, I’ll text you later,” I say before the line goes silent.

As the sun starts to set the chill sets in. I wander back into the heated foyer. People of all ages sit or stand around the room, mostly engrossed in their phones or idle chatter while they move from foot to foot or bounce their leg. A few girls in the far corner are even doing star jumps and squats. The room is a weird stale mix between body odor, deodorant and perfume. I miss the fresh air of outside, but my chilled body welcomes the super charged heat. I find a free patch of carpet by the door and sit down. My foot taps quietly against the floor in my high-top boots.

After what feels like an eternity, an assistant that I’d seen around earlier comes out of the stage doors with a stack of papers. She ushers a group away that are leaning against a large cork board before slowly pinning up each sheet. I know the same pages will be scanned onto their website by morning, but there’s nothing quite like the atmosphere in the room; it’s one of the things I like about stage productions over TV or movies where they just get your agent. I patiently wait as the people closer to the board crowd around before either cheering or sighing and storming or sulking out of the foyer into the cold, dark night. As I’m watching people react to the casting I spot the girl I was talking to before my audition. She looks over her shoulder and skims around the room before she spots me and waves me over with a smile. I quickly throw my backpack over my shoulder and hurry over to join her.

“Let’s find out together. Good luck!” She says as I catch up to her.

Despite Sandy being the lead role and the one that most girls dream of, she said she had a soft spot for Frenchy, and the cotton-candy pink hair to match. So I’m glad to go up with someone who is not in direct competition, although even if she was, I’d be a good sport about it. She grabs my hand and squeezes as she pulls me through the small crowd to read the cast list. My eyes go straight to the top of the list, but next to Sandy is Mary Jacobs. I scan down the first page just to make sure I didn’t get cast in any other role. Finally on the third page across I find my name, I feel a bubble of hope at getting a role, even if it is just: Female Student #3 - Ensemble. I accept my fate with a sullen smile as my new friend motions to the final page: the list of understudies. She holds two fingers on the page as she smiles at me. My jaw drops as I see my name in the third column next to Sandy Olsson and hers next to Frenchy.

“It means we could still get a matinee performance…Or if the lead God forbid falls sick for a night…” She offers with a hopeful smile.

“Looks like we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other, fellow understudy.”

We step back and input our numbers into each other’s phones so we can keep in contact about the rehearsals. We share a quick meal together at a closeby fast food joint in the city as we gush over our future roles and how awesome it’s going to be to perform on the big stage for real finally. We become quick friends and my nerves settle slightly at knowing that I’ve got someone in my corner as I go into this new world.

On the subway I text Jensen:

May I introduce to you……Drum roll please…Female Student #3…

His little speech bubble pops up and disappears multiple times.

And understudy for Sandy!I’m gonna be on broadway, Baby!!

You’re happy?

We can’t all get the lead Understudy to the lead isn’t bad There’ll likely be a chance that I’ll get to do a matinee I got a part I’ve never even gotten ensemble before So to get that as well as understudy for the lead

I guess I’m not used to understudies We don’t exactly have an understudy in TV Stunt doubles, sure But not understudies But if you’re happy, I’m happy

I’m happy

I’m glad I’m so so proud of you

Can I call you later?I just wanna call my mom and tell her too

You told me before your parents? I’m honored But tonight’s not gonna be good for me I’m having drinks with a friend Call tomorrow?

Sure Enjoy your night

You too, Darlin’ And congratulations!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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lmk-oc-competition · 7 months ago

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LMK OC COMPETITION: ROUND 3 BRACKET

We're in round 3 now babey, the quarter-finals!! Again, thanks to all who participated and congratulations to those who moved on.

Be sure to review this post for information regarding the rules and propaganda if you're new to this blog or if you haven't already. If you have a question, you can either check the FAQs, search up #asks, or just send me an Ask!

Round 3 will begin tomorrow, May 8, at 7 AM PDT. As always, if you want to change your OC's image and/or description, feel free to DM me!! Preferably today, but I can still change it afterwards.

Check below the cut to view all the match-ups! Links to polls will be added once they're up.

LEFT SIDE:

Yue Li (@thelovemaiden) VS Yeva Moon (@chuitu) [link to poll]

Huáng Mudan (@yourlocaleggperson) VS Ling (@camhues) [link to poll]

RIGHT SIDE:

Yu Ling (@lmkobsessedmoth) VS Yuèliàng (@sun4ndmo0n) [link to poll]

Vervet (@rae-blu) VS Ying Jiao Yue (@yingjiaoyue) [link to poll]

Good luck and have fun!!! :D

#lmk #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #oc #original character #lmk oc #lmk ocs #lmk original character #lego monkie kid oc #lmk oc competition #round 3 #bracket #info post

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hydrangeapartridge · 6 months ago

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Title: Mind Body and Soul

Pairing: Mage!Shinsou x reader

I wrote for Shinsou again! Link to AO3 here

Summary: Once upon a time there was you: a nobody, a refugee from a country devastated by Dabi’s undead army, serving as a maid in king Todoroki’s castle. There, fate decided you would cross path with the mysterious and dreaded court mage Hitoshi Shinsou. Little did you know that particular encounter would change your life forever.

Rating: M

Tagged people <3: @maple-syrup-with-strawbewwies @moonlitmoonpie

Chapter 3: The Mage (under the cut!) - (link to chapter 1 and 2)

“The King will grant us an audience tomorrow” Was the first announcement Shinsou made when you joined him in his tower the next day.

He then eyed you up and down, assessing your accoutrement. Knowing you were supposed to make an outing in the city, you had forgone your housemaid attire for a plain beige dress, simple but comfortable.

“My apprentice should be dressed appropriately for this occasion. You need a special outfit to attend.” Shinsou commented, one slender finger resting on his chin as he thought about it. “It would also be a good opportunity to renew your wardrobe. Mages have a higher status to live up to. You cannot run around the castle looking like a poor stray thing” He added, gesturing to your clothes.

If first you felt offended by his critique of your attire, you didn’t let it get to you too much. You never got the opportunity to own nice clothes, and the prospect was tempting you very much. Compared to your rags, Shinsou’s robes were simply stunning; made of a rich dark velvet; sober but elegant. You were envious of him on that point, so you let his comment about your appearance slide for now.

Shinsou neatly wrote something on a piece of parchment, signing it with a flourish and a wax seal before handing it to you.

“You will find the tailor named Monoma. He will make sure that you are at least presentable for tomorrow’s hearing” You nodded your head and he continued with his instructions. “Once you are done, meet me back here. I will accompany you to town for supplies”

Upon leaving, you noticed that the tray of food the kitchen staff brought earlier for your teacher had gone cold and was still untouched, just like the one brought the previous night.

Finding Monoma was pretty easy. You knew most of the lower staff members, including the seamstresses, so you asked them about him. They made a weird face before pointing you to his workshop.

You later understood their grimace when you found yourself faced with an eccentric blond man wearing a fancy lacy suit with a frilly jabot collar.

“Are you lost little one?” The man asked you when he appeared from behind his desk, immediately taking your hand in his as if to soothe you.

You quickly took your hand back and shoved the parchment Shinsou gave you into the man’s chest before stepping away from him. “I’m not lost Sir. Mage Shinsou sent me” You still politely replied.

Monoma raised a thin blond eyebrow before he proceeded to scan the letter. Its content seemed to amuse him, his eyes holding a mischievous glint when he looked back to you.

“My my... When did Shinsou get himself such a cute apprentice?” He asked, and you felt yourself flush when he started inspecting you from head to toe, prowling around you like a predator.

You squeaked when he touched the fabric of your dress, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“Do not fret little mage. I know exactly what you need! You entered here a dull duckling, you will get out transformed into a pretty swan” He announced with an exaggerated flourish before he clapped his hands twice. “Measurements please!” He called out to the seemingly empty room. However, the next second, two women in pretty blue and pink maid costumes appeared from nowhere and captured you to take your measurements.

Once you had been measured from absolutely all angles, Monoma’s associates urged you to try on a long robe made of warm deep green cotton. The sleeves were large and the fabric was soft. Delicate silver embroidery details made the whole look simple but much more refined than your previous attire. The girls helping you change made you step in front of a large mirror back in Monoma’s workshop, and you almost didn’t recognize your reflection. You looked noble, more respectable than a random housemaid. Delight filled you as you admired yourself. Since you were forced to flee your country, you had resolved yourself to a life of poverty and hard labour. You were grateful to simply have survived the destruction of your country, and you never expected an opportunity to up your social status would have arisen. You almost felt glad you barely escaped being eaten by a demon.

“That’s much better” Monoma commented proudly, inspecting you from head to toe again. “One small detail is missing though”

The blond stepped even closer to you and ran his fingers near your ear. The next second, a large lacy ribbon had appeared in his hand, as if by magic. Impressed, you watched him place a leather belt around your waist, and tie it securely with said ribbon.

“There, much better” He nodded, satisfied with his work.

“Are you a mage too Sir?” You asked, excitedly, and he chuckled while his employees shook their heads in despair.

“I have many tricks up my sleeve little mage, but I am sadly not like you” He replied. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here making clothes. I would live a grandiose life atop the best ranking sorcerers of Yuei’s Academy!”

Monoma seemed to be a very chatty person, and he simply did not stop talking to you, even though he was finished fixing your outfit.

“I have to say I am surprised the Academy is not where you are headed dear. Every single soul that turns out to be gifted with magic is sent there. Shinsou detected many of them, but never kept one as an apprentice before. I’m admittedly curious to know what makes you special?” He made a dramatic pause, catching his breath before asking you “So, tell me little mage; what do you have that the others didn’t?”

Monoma was standing too close to you to your liking, and if you found his antics and tricks funny at first, you didn’t like his questions. You didn’t like them because you simply had no answer to give him. In truth, you didn’t have a clue as to why Shinsou decided to make you his apprentice. It could be because of that strange ritual; but it felt like a secret you should keep, not to divulge to the tailor.

From what you gathered, Shinsou was only mildly satisfied with your learning, and he said himself that you were too old. Maybe they wouldn’t have accepted such an old student at the academy?

“I…” You started, annoyed and suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t know” You finally answered truthfully.

Your eyes fell onto the fabric of your beautiful dress. All of this seemed too nice, like a dream. What if the king decided you didn’t deserve it? What if Shinsou realized you weren’t up to his expectations. Could he get bored of you? Could all those nice things get taken from you?

Your gloomy silence had Monoma cease his chatting and go back to business. “The dress for the ceremony will be ready tomorrow morning just before the event. Come back an hour early for adjustments” He only told you, the ghost of his touch on your shoulder driving you away from your worried train of thoughts.

“See you later little mage” The tailor waved at you and his two maids bowed down respectfully.

Only when you were stepping into the cold stone corridors of the castle did you realize you didn’t properly thank them.

When you returned to Shinsou’s tower, despite your knocking on his office’s door before entering, he didn’t immediately turn to look at you.

“Took you long enough” He absent-mindedly commented while rummaging through the mess on one of his tables. “Are you ready to go?” He was looking for something, that turned out to a small satchel that he quickly attached to his belt before turning your away.

“I think I am yes” You answered and then his eyes fell on you, inspecting you again from head to toe.

He was flustered from all his rummaging around and it was a little out of breath that he said. “Well, that’s a much better fitting outfit for a mage apprentice” He nodded his head in approval but quickly looked away, passing you to exit the room. “Now that we’re all set, let’s head out”

You almost felt disappointed that he didn’t have more to say about your new clothes, but you supposed men weren’t too interested in those matters. You quickly followed after Shinsou before he outpaced you. Your young teacher seemed to be in a hurry.

“Are we running there or are you trying to escape someone maybe?” You asked between a few laboured breaths. There was a corseted upper part inside your dress that made it harder to breath than in your usual clothes.

“I do not wish to come across the servants. Or the nobles for that matter. Given it is lunchtime, we will avoid most of the crowd. I’m taking advantage of this” Shinsou answered, his pace not slowly a bit.

You smiled at his asocial nature. “I’m surprised to see you’re more afraid of the servants than they are of you” You teased. “They believe you do horrible experiments on people inside your gloomy tower you know?”

You had long since gone down the stairs and the guards now opened the doors for the both of you to exit into the courtyard.

“I know that” Shinsou sighed. “Every time I detect a gifted person in the castle and have them sent to the academy they come up with new stories of how I did something horrible to them”

So that was where the people who disappeared went? To the academy? You were surprised by this piece of information and you purposefully avoided telling him that you once were tempted to believe the rumours uttered amongst the servants.

“And why didn’t you send me to the Academy?” You asked once you were both alone inside a carriage headed to the town’s market. You were curious about the answer, ever since your conversation with Monoma.

“Do you wish to go study there?” Shinsou asked, his head propped onto his opened palm as he lazily looked away from the landscape to look at you.

“I didn’t say that” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And you didn’t answer my question”

Shinsou took a moment to ponder his answer, his amethyst gaze boring into yours until you felt the urge to look away. No one ever looked at you so intensely. It felt like he was truly seeing you; even seeing through you, and it was nerve wracking. Part of you still wondered if he somehow could read thoughts. You’d have to ask him one day if magic could do that.

“The others didn’t need to be saved from the creature from the Otherworld that they unleashed” Shinsou then told you, and you straightened up in your seat, shocked.

“That would never have happened if you didn’t leave dangerous artefacts unsupervised in the mess you call a working desk!” You replied, outraged.

Your anger was all but fuelled by Shinsou’s lack of response. He kept watching you, unfazed, ignoring your comment. A bump in the road made him look outside and you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“We’re almost there” Shinsou observed.

When you finally cooled down, you wondered if he kept you by his side because he feared you might get into more trouble if left alone? Or again, because of that ritual you knew nothing about? He never fully answered your question, and the events of that first night with the Djinn were a blurry mess in your memories from how scared you were.

You soon were distracted from Shinsou’s nonchalant attitude when the buzzy streets of the market appeared before your eager eyes.

Since your exodus from your home country, you only ever lived in the royal castle. Never did you get to explore the neighbouring town, or any other place in this new country. So it was with excitement and bright eyes that you followed a very blasé Shinsou through the colourful displays of food, jewellery and other bric-à-brac.

“Focus apprentice” Shinsou told you, his tone barely hiding a hint of amusement when he dragged you by your sleeve to help you avoid running into an old woman. “You should watch where you are going before there is an accident”

Shinsou walked close to you, keeping an eye on you so you wouldn’t get lost.

“Over there” He urged you inside a small shop you never would have noticed without him. His fingers on your back gently brushed the fabric of your dress, just under your belt, his careful touch guiding you through the shelves and various displays of magical items. Everything in there was breath-taking. You didn’t even know where to look, your attention getting lost between enchanted music instruments playing beautiful tunes by themselves, flying parchments, tea-pots serving tea by themselves, and colourful displays of various objects of which you couldn’t imagine the purpose.

Shinsou called your name at some point, and you focused back on him, although with difficulty. The corners of his lips were upturned when you met his eyes. If you kept looking around avidly, he seemed to stay focused on you.

“Here, choose the one you prefer” He told you, pointing to a large display of writing quills made from various materials and coming in different sizes and shapes.

You observed the quills, wondering why they could be special enough to be sold in a magic shop. Shinsou sensed your curiosity and gave you the answer without you asking.

“Those are enchanted writing quills. When correctly used they can write your thoughts directly in organized notes and at incredible speed” He offered and your eyes widened. To think such a small object held such power was unbelievable. “I think it’s the type of item that could greatly help you in your studies” Shinsou commented while you browsed the quills, trying their weight, testing how they felt between your fingers. “Sadly no magical item I know of can help you read faster. That would have to come with practice.”

You ended up choosing a quill adorned with the pretty feather of an exotic bird. Shinsou grabbed a few other supplies for you, and then he lost himself in browsing the large collection of books on display while you were more interested in the many enchanted objects the shop had to offer.

Your teacher finally decided it was time to leave when he had picked up no less than five new books to bring home. He looked excited to read them, and it was almost cute.

Upon paying, Shinsou took out a large purse filled with gold from his satchel. Only then did you realize how pricey magical items were, and just how rich the king’s mage must be.

The owner of the shop, a woman with deep wrinkles and almost completely white hair was unfazed by the amount of coin presented to her. However, when she took a closer look at Shinsou’s face, she smiled, obviously recognizing him.

“Ah young man, long-time no see! I think I have another book that could be of interest to you” She drawled.

She then fetched something from the backroom, an item neatly wrapped in an old blanket. Before unwrapping it, she checked left and right that there were no other prying customers. When she deemed the area safe, she took the book out of its makeshift package. Symbols and runes that were unknown to you filled the beautiful dark leather cover. You only were able to spot a few skulls and bones drawn in a very detailed anatomical manner. That book looked absolutely forbidden.

“So what do you say?” The old woman asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

Shinsou’s long fingers gently, almost reverently traced the cover of the book, right before he quickly pulled the blanket back onto it. “Not interested” He stated coldly.

“What?” The woman squawked, visibly surprised. “But last time yo-”

“You’re mistaken. You must have me confused with somebody else” Shinsou interrupted her, his tone definitive and authoritative. Yet, the old lady didn’t get offended. The focus in her eyes shifted, her clear pupils blurring for a second as she realized her mistake.

“Yes. I was mistaken. I must have taken you for someone else” She said mechanically.

You almost felt embarrassed witnessing this exchange; like there was something wrong with it. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was frustrating.

“Apologies sir. Have a good day” The old woman nodded her head, handing Shinsou some change before she disappeared in the backroom with her book.

You wondered if she was a lunatic, or maybe a little senile. Old age wasn’t kind.

As you exited the shop, you thought back to that book. You couldn’t be certain of it, but you suspected from the symbols on it that it could hold forbidden knowledge. Then why didn’t Shinsou confiscate it? You would have to ask him about it later, when there were no risks of people eavesdropping.

Shinsou dragged you into a few more shops, where every time he bought more books than he did supplies. He was very generous and you didn’t complain that he paid for every piece of parchment and every drop of ink you would be the one using. You could have felt entitled to it, given you were somewhat forced to become his apprentice, but you felt more grateful that he cared about giving you good studying conditions. You still teased him about the books though.

“A mage never stops learning. Books hold much knowledge, and one lifetime isn’t enough to fully understand magic” He replied, flicking his wrist to relieve you of the supplies you were carrying in an effortless spell. Your arms suddenly became empty as your quills, parchments and other artefacts started floating in the air, magically following you and your teacher. Shinsou’s books soon joined your supplies, and people in the streets gave you two funny looks as you passed them; some amused, and some more worried, whispering amongst them.

“Thank you. That was heavy” You breathed and Shinsou only nodded his head in response.

The sun was high in the sky, and with all the excitement of your shopping gone, you suddenly felt very tired. Your pretty dress was warmer than your usual clothes, making you sweat profusely under the afternoon sun, and your throat was dry from thirst. You felt a little dizzy, bordering nauseous and incidentally realized that you hadn’t eaten anything since your breakfast, which consisted of a slice of bread at the crack of dawn.

You hoped that once you would be back in the castle your teacher would set you free for the day. You urgently needed to eat and to clean up, and certainly had no strength left in you for studying today.

Until then, you did your best to follow Shinsou through the crowded market, despite your legs feeling weaker with each passing second. The loud noises around you progressively became more and more muffled, and dark spots blurred your vision. You felt light-headed, and only when your legs gave out under you did it occur to you that you shouldn’t have pushed yourself and should have asked for a break.

A pair of arms caught you before your knees hit the floor and a fresh flowery scent filled your nostrils, as if you were back in Shinsou’s office. If your vision was darkened, your ears still caught a soft worried voice asking if you were alright. You obviously weren’t, but no words came out of your mouth. It was a nice sentiment though, you thought just before you blacked out for a moment.

In a haze you still felt yourself getting carried somewhere, head tilted back, cheek against a soft warm fabric, and an unexpectedly strong touch under your knees.

Your bottom then hit something soft, a hand was placed on your shoulder and then a cold liquid touched your lips. Reflexively, you greedily drank the fresh water offered to you, and as if by magic, your sight progressively returned.

The first thing you saw was Shinsou’s worried gaze. He was kneeling in front of you, his face very close to yours. There was an empty glass in his hand. Were you back at the castle? You couldn’t tell how long you had passed out.

Shinsou’s low voice called your name. “Can you hear me? How are you feeling?”

You blinked, taking notes of your surroundings. An unknown place. Tables, chairs, customers. Loud noises of chatter. Mouth-watering smells of food.

“Where are we?” You asked, voice weak.

The smell of flowers and citrus filled your nostrils again when Shinsou turned his head, his violet curls a little damp from the heat outside.

“The Glen. An inn” He told you. “You had me worried when you fainted. I am very bad at healing magic so I had to resort to basic first aid.”

You nodded your head, processing the information. Then you stomach growled. Loudly.

Shinsou ran a nervous hand through his dishevelled hair, sitting back on his heels. “Foolish girl. You should have said something before collapsing” He reprimanded, more disheartened than angry.

Then it all came crashing down on you. The realisation that you had inconvenienced him. That you had fainted and he had to carry you here. He probably thought you were a burden of an apprentice. You felt impossibly embarrassed. Especially when he was leaning so close to you, inspecting you for any injury.

“Sorry” You muttered, your hands coming in front of your face to hide it as you felt the heat of a full face blush rise under your skin.

“It’s fine” Shinsou said, and you heard the rustle of his robes as he got up. “I’m glad you’re feeling better”

Your peeked through your fingers to watch him walk around a small round table before which you were sat. He took a sit across from you, linking his fingers together on the table. He almost looked like he was nervous. “Since we’re here, let’s take a break. I’ll order something to eat”

Your stomach grumbled once more upon that declaration, and you let out a defeated sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides. “Thank you” You muttered, mortified.

You were still a little light-headed and you zoned out while Shinsou ordered a meal for the both of you. In your state you weren’t be able to read a menu, your brain too mushy and slow to process the options to choose from.

Your glass was refilled with water at some point and you greedily drank from it until a plate of food was placed in front of you by a bubbly young woman.

Without thinking, you dug in. You were famished.

“This place is rather popular I hear. A bit noisy for someone recovering from a malaise perhaps, but I couldn’t find better on such short notice” Shinsou told you while he took a small bite from his plate.

“It’s perfect. And this is delicious” You said between two large mouthfuls of food. Your table manners were far from delicate, and Shinsou put down his fork, his appetite probably put down by the sight of your sloppy eating.

“This stew is supposedly a local speciality and a best seller” Shinsou commented. He was unusually talkative. Maybe he felt uneasy watching in silence while you finished your plate.

“I didn’t know what you liked. I am relieved to see you appreciate this dish” He eventually added, and you almost choked on the food you were chewing.

You hastily grabbed your glass of water to help it all down your throat. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire when you met Shinsou’s eyes. He did his best to order something to your liking and you were touched by the gesture.

The worry in the amethyst gaze gauging you turned into something softer.

“Your face is regaining some colour. That is good”

For the very first time, Shinsou was smiling at you. Not one of those sardonic or mischievous smirks that sometimes graced his lips; no, a heartfelt gentle smile.

You couldn’t look at it, not with how it sent the heat from your cheeks spreading to your whole face.

You went back to your food, finishing your plate; leaving it spotless clean. That’s how good it was, and how hungry you had been.

Meanwhile, Shinsou resumed eating, albeit slowly. Taking small breaks between each bite.

“You don’t eat much” You observed once you were done, needing to break the silence that settled between the two of you now that you weren’t occupied anymore.

Shinsou put his fork down before he spoke. His manners, contrary to yours, were impeccable, and you had to wonder if he was of noble upbringing, or if etiquette was part of a mage apprentice’s training. “I tend to forget” He sheepishly told you, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. “When I’m too engrossed in studies, time flows by and I happen to skip meals. I also find myself often skipping sleep. I tend to study all night long without noticing”

You were convinced it happened quite often indeed given the permanent dark circles under his eyes. You left Shinsou to his eating, least you wanted to spent the rest of the day in the inn with how he stopped every time you talked to him.

With your recently acquired magic teacher facing you, you had little choice but to look at him. While he ate you observed his well-defined jaw, how white his teeth were, the shape of his lips… He was rather handsome. Not strikingly so, like the prince was for example, but still very above average. Were unrequited affections one of the reason he avoided the other inhabitants of the castle? You never heard any servant praise his looks, but you started to wonder if they ever met him in person.

You looked away from Shinsou’s pale face, feeling you had been staring too long for it to be proper. His cheeks wore more colour too now you noticed. You probably weren’t the only one who had been hungry and tired.

Once he was done with his meal Shinsou paid for everything again. He only nodded his head when you profusely thanked him on the way back to the castle.

Thankfully he didn’t ask you to get back to studying once you finished putting away the supplies you bought, and you hastily excused yourself to go clean up and get ready for a well-deserved rest.

When you went to bed for a nap, tired and spent, just before falling asleep, you strangely felt like you forgot something.

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #mha fanfiction #ao3 shinsou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #hydrangea writes #shinsou x you

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