#people commenting on her temper making her dangerous when all she did was stand up for herself

[a-roguish-gambit]

I’m watching season three and they literally gave Kurt an arc about staying in the closet for his own safety versus coming out to stand by his friends. they have him literally masking as a normal human being with an image modifier and he’s arguing with his friends about continuing to use it to avoid persecution or standing by them and supporting them. they really really wanted to make this boy gay oh my god.

[dangermousie]

For a drama that was clearly filmed on a shoestring budget, they have some really pretty shots - the way QL is shot looking at Ling snap and then come out of it, is gorgeous.

And it's so telling that her main reaction is not fear of him but worry for him. In many another set-up, I'd call her naive but for her, with her issues, it is normal people that is terrified of and also while she has never snapped the way he does, she can understand going after a tormentor because that is what she wishes she could have done. His violence is not off putting for her because she wishes she could be like that.

One of the things I like about Mars is what they do with Qing Mei, who'd be the insane secondary girl in many a drama - she tried and she snapped and then she got over it. And here she is giving QL Ling's address. She is CAPABLE OF MOVING ON.

Ling's hovel is definitely a hovel and it's an unpretty dump. I love that it's almost aggressively ugly - more shows should do that for their broke characters. But also, here is QL who started the show literally flinching from anyone in any proximity, feeling safe enough to wait for Ling as he showers right there. It's both progress for her character (we earlier saw her stand up to girls in school) and because she feels safe with him.

Oooofff! This is a convo they have where he says his father never lifted a hand to him/lost his temper at him and she comments he's a good man and Ling responds that is not the case, he's just afraid of him and QL is incredulous, how can a man be afraid of his own son. I really really like that they both have severe trauma but it's a very different one and that is why they react differently and their triggers are different. And then they come to the crux of it. This is the MOST vulnerability and honesty we've seen him show anyone by a factor of a 100:

And then being himself, he tries to go "psych!"

And you can see her be relieved "what kind of parent would treat their kid that way" and the thing is, he could have just left it at that but he cannot. She is past all his shields and he's rather desperate.

God, I love this! And it makes so much sense, as I mentioned before, that she's afraid of "normal," not of someone genuinely out there because she's been abused over and over by normal. (And she doesn't mention her stepfather but she clearly wants to, and he's smart enough to catch she's omitting something.)

OK, I don't remember stuff about his mom that well but if I remember correctly, she tried to kill him at some point. And it's so interesting that Ling doesn't remember that (between his age and suppressing the trauma), but his subconscious does somehow...

Notice something - he leans in, she is uncomfortable and suggests going for a walk and he just pulls back, no hesitation or word of complaint. The violent kid who was involuntarily committed respected her boundaries the way all those praiseworthy members of community did not.

Watching them on a date is such a delight. They don't just talk out issues, they genuinely have so much fun together.

This is only barely related to the above but I wanted to talk about it - I love that always in their relationship, they meet each other where the other person is at, they don't try to change the other person, they just decide if they can live with it or not - sometimes they can't (when she decides to agree to live with her abuser, he goes "I am out,") but they don't really try to change each other - they do change each other and for each other, but this is organic and voluntary. They grow tremendously, but they never force the other to do so.

It really comes to a head with Ling's choice of being a motorcycle racer - it's an insanely dangerous profession. His bio father died from it. The whole story opens with his visiting a mentor who just lost a leg doing so. QL is very much aware how dangerous this is. And for her, Ling is her whole life - her family are dead or monsters. When he almost dies (from other stuff), she loses it. And yet, she never not once asks him to quit or even thinks about how good it would be if it was. Her father even posits it to her and she rejects it. She could get him to quit for her - I mean later on, he agrees to his father's demands in order to save her, and that wasn't even her asking. And she knows that but she won't. Because she loves him the way he is and she wants him to do what makes him happy, not to constrain himself for her. He set her free and she cannot constrain him as a return. They are both their best and their freest and their truest to themselves with each other and I love it so.

God, I love them so so so much!

[carewyncromwell]

"Senior class president, She must be heaven sent! She was never the last one standing... A backseat debutante -- Everything that you want -- Never too harsh or too demanding...

Maybe, I'll admit it, I'm a little bitter... Everybody loves her, but I just want to hit her!"

~"Girl Next Door" by Saving Jane

x~x~x~x

Bill Weasley didn't surprise much of anyone when he elected to become a Cursebreaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He and his best friend Carewyn Cromwell had been well-known for breaking the curses on all five of Hogwarts's Cursed Vaults with help from their circle of friends, and even before that, Bill had expressed a lot of interest in Cursebreaking. He'd collected Muggle and magical travel books about Egypt, Greece, and Rome as a kid, and he checked out every single book about it out of the library while he was at Hogwarts. Even disregarding Bill's experience with and passion for the subject, his great grades, his amiable personality, and his positions as Prefect and later Head Boy made Gringotts' choice to employ him incredibly easy. And so Bill was soon off to the races, traveling abroad on official cursebreaking assignments.

Although Bill's best friend Carewyn didn't become a Cursebreaker like he did, her brother Jacob did. But if you think that these two working at the same tombs together from time to time helped them become closer, you would be mistaken.

"Jacob!" said Bill, delighted. "What are you doing here?"

Jacob looked up, startled. Upon registering the tall, leather-jacketed ginger man that approached him, however, his expression deadpanned, the usual boyish light in his hollowed-out blue eyes dying at once.

"Translating these hieroglyphics into Greek, at present," he said dully. He then rather rudely turned away, back to the wall he'd been focused on. "And I fully intend to go right back to that too, now that I've answered that question -- "

"Were you sent here by Gringotts?" asked Bill. "Or did someone else send you here, free-lance?"

"I came here because I wanted to," Jacob said without looking up again. "I don't need someone to give me an assignment to be interested in the ruins of Abusir."

Bill offered his best smile. "I can't blame you for that -- what we've unearthed is beautiful. The papyri we've found alone contain some of the oldest recorded spells ever discovered -- "

"Some of the oldest in the Egyptian Old Kingdom -- Babylon and Mesopotamia have plenty of papyri that likely transcribe ancient spells, they just haven't been properly translated," Jacob cut him off very coolly. "Not to mention Sudan, which has spells, potions and other magics that have been passed down by word of mouth for ages -- there's evidence that even the Animagi process used by Sudanese wizards today is identical to the process used by Nubian kings, back in the 2000's B.C.E..."

Despite the obnoxiousness of Jacob's correction, Bill looked rather interested. Before he could make any follow-up comments or ask any questions, however, Jacob had gotten to his feet, his robes and bell bottom jeans billowing in the movement, and started to walk off without looking back once.

"Welp, I'm out of here. Peace."

Startled, Bill tried to follow him. "What? Wait, hold on -- "

CRACK.

Just as Bill managed to touch Jacob's shoulder, Carewyn's brother had uncouthly Disapparated right out from under the taller ginger's hand.

Jacob Cromwell and Bill Weasley truthfully couldn't be more different as people. Jacob had been a Ravenclaw alumnus -- a flighty, disorganized eccentric with genius intellect, a hot temper, and almost no people skills, obsessed with knowledge and reckless in the face of danger. Bill, in contrast, was patient, organized, grounded, and surprisingly understated; however bold he could be on the Dueling Field, the eldest Weasley was surprisingly sensitive and not the type who could easily rile up a crowd. Even when he had his first crush, it took forever for him to nut up and make a move, and when it blew up in his face, Bill immediately retreated to be by himself. Bill had named Prefect and Head Boy for his mentorship of younger students and his ability to set a good example -- Jacob was a rebel and serial troublemaker who didn't give a damn about rules or if people disliked him, so long as he learned as much as he possibly could and got top grades. Jacob was prone to wearing his emotions on his sleeve, to the point that many people found him obnoxious -- Bill might've been raised in a large and loud family, but he often ended up having a quiet mediating influence on his other much more hot-blooded siblings.

And this wasn't even touching their contrasting backgrounds.

Jacob and Carewyn had been raised largely in the Muggle World since their father was a Muggle, but only Carewyn had known about her magic prior to receiving her letter. Jacob had been raised feeling like a freak and treated like a delinquent for "bad behavior" he hadn't been responsible for. All of the kids in grade school avoided him or made fun of him for both his nerdy interests and his bad reputation. Even his own father Evan Bach -- who was just as diametrically opposed from Arthur Weasley as Jacob was from Bill -- constantly tried to mold Jacob into his image of a fine, upstanding son and disciplined and shamed Jacob when he refused to play along. Jacob had an age gap with Carewyn similar to Bill's with his brothers Fred and George, but after Carewyn was born, Evan completely dropped out of her life from an emotional standpoint. Therefore, unlike Bill who only had to help his parents look after his siblings, Jacob ended up becoming the closest thing Carewyn had to a father. He encouraged her, protected her, comforted her, sang songs with her, made her laugh, helped her when she had trouble doing things, and worked his butt off to make sure Carewyn felt special and wonderful, just the way she was. Not that Jacob ever would've lamented this loss of a childhood -- Carewyn was the most important person in his life, and being her older brother was the aspect of himself Jacob was most proud of.

This, however, led into what really made Jacob resent Bill, far more than his stable home life with a large, supportive family in the Wizarding World ever could -- Bill's close friendship with Carewyn. Because as much as Bill would've never wanted it to be true, in those years that Jacob was trapped in a magical portrait inside one of the Cursed Vaults, Bill filled the role in Carewyn's life that Jacob once had. Bill had been Carewyn's right-hand man at school -- he'd emotionally supported her; he'd encouraged and protected her; he'd helped her with the Vaults' curses and school assignments and helped her become a stronger, more complete version of herself. Bill had watched Carewyn grow up -- something Jacob regretted and resented having missed everyday, all because of R and the Cursed Vaults.

Now, of course, if one really challenged Jacob on this, he would acknowledge that he knew he should be grateful that Bill was there for Carewyn when he couldn't be. He might even have admitted that he should really be nicer to Bill, just out of respect for Carewyn. But however much Jacob knew this intellectually, it wasn't easy to put into practice. However much Jacob knew Bill was a decent person and knew how much his sister cherished him as a friend, his heart would still pump cold, bitter poison whenever he was in the same space as Bill Weasley.

This was why -- even when Bill ended up saving Jacob's arse from an cursed, fire-breathing marble sphinx in an underground tomb in the Valley of the Kings -- the shorter man couldn't help but snipe at him.

"What the bloody hell -- how did YOU get here, Weasley?!"

"Carey said in one of her letters you were visiting Turkey last month -- " huffed Bill, running up alongside Jacob even while shooting additional silent Blasting Curses over his shoulder, " -- ugh -- to appraise the Lion Gate...I guessed you had to be visiting -- Depulso! -- Hattusha -- and there's been some discussion at Gringotts about the Siren Queen of the Mediterranean seeking out lost treasures in Egypt, lost to the Hittites back in the 1200's B.C.E. -- ack -- so, putting it together, it would make sense for some of the Hittites' stolen treasures to end up in the tombs of their allies at the time!"

"Blah blah, yeah, that much is obvious!" Jacob said waspishly. "I meant how the hell you knew I'd be here!"

"I may or may not have asked the magic carpet vendor back in Cairo to send me an owl if you ever popped in to buy one to go somewhere," Bill said with a wry twinkle in his eye. "But hey, how else would I be able to check in on you for Carey, whenever you're in my sphere? I'd certainly prefer exchanging letters with you..."

"Not happening," snapped Jacob.

When Jacob and Bill finally got out of that tomb with a certain golden harp in tow, Bill was ultimately the one to hand it off to the Siren Queen. Jacob ended up charming the Queen, however, since he had picked up a bit of Mermish in his travels -- he even helped the Siren Queen test out the harp by singing a few bars that she could play along to, and she was clearly delighted by his handsome voice. She even allowed Jacob to kiss her webbed hand before departing back into the water.

"This'll be some story to tell Carey, huh?" asked Bill.

"Hmph." Jacob didn't look at him, instead keeping his focus on the horizon.

Bill tilted his head a bit, trying to get a better look at Jacob's face. His stare was so deep that his thoughts were likely miles away.

"...Look," Bill said after a minute, "I know you aren't happy that I followed you...but I wasn't trying to steal your thunder, really. It's just that I've been to the Valley of the Kings, and those magical tombs have sneakier traps than most -- "

"I don't need your help," Jacob cut him off harshly.

"Maybe not," Bill said with a frown. "I know you're capable of protecting yourself, Jacob. But for what it's worth, you shouldn't have had to face them alone. ...I wouldn't have wanted Carey to face that kind of danger alone either."

Jacob was very quiet for a moment. His skull-like blue eyes flickered over his shoulder in Bill's direction, considering him for a moment, before very quickly looking away again.

"...Pip was never the type to do dangerous things," he said lowly under his breath. "She never wanted to make Mum or me worry."

Bill's eyes softened slightly. "She did for you, though. Without hesitation. When I first asked her why she wanted to find the Cursed Vaults, she even said so. She said, 'I can't not do something, if Jacob's in trouble.'"

Jacob didn't reply. He seemed to have trouble knowing what to say. Bill once again tried to maneuver so as to look Jacob in the face, but the smaller man seemed to predict the move well before he made it and shifted around purposefully to avoid his eye.

"Pip never got into any trouble," Jacob reiterated again. "It was always me. Both before and after Pip was born...I was the magnet for trouble..."

Jacob closed his eyes, his brows creased low over them.

"...And most of the time, I dealt with it myself."

Bill felt his heart prickle with pity.

"Maybe," he said lowly. "But you shouldn't have had to. Neither you nor Carey...neither of you should've had to deal with so much pain by yourselves -- "

"Should've, would've, could've," Jacob shut Bill down. "It doesn't matter. The point is we did, and we got through it -- we got through it together, because at least we had each other. And that was enough. Back then...that was more than enough."

Jacob began to walk away, adjusting his robes as he went. Rather than chase him, Bill let him go, but didn't hold back from shouting after him,

"You're welcome at the Burrow whenever, Jacob! You and your mum -- I've told Carey that too -- "

CRACK.

Jacob Disapparated without a word.

Three years later, however, in the midst of the Second Wizarding War, Bill was very startled when a small package arrived by Owl Post to the Burrow, just before his wedding: two stalks of bamboo in a blue and white ceramic vase painted with charmed moving pictures. Enclosed was a very short, terse-sounding note written in messy handwriting on the back of a cafe napkin --

A gift for you and your bride. In case you don't know, bamboo represents peace, happiness, wealth, and longevity and is considered very lucky in China. The two stalks specifically represent love, for obvious reasons. Don't take this as permission to write to me -- I'm only sending this along because Pip misses you terribly and I hate seeing her unhappy. Peace out, string bean. JC

[curseofaphrodite]

What One Deserves Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Summary: Jealous Kaz, that’s it. Fluffy, fluff! requested by @acupnoodle​ | masterlist

There were a lot of emotions Kaz hid on a daily basis. Like how he feels happy whenever he sees the birds chirruping in the evenings. Or how he’s elated every time the Crows seemed to have a good time. How he loves each and every one of you but never shows it.

Kaz could try and try, but the one emotion he could never really hide was jealousy.

You’ve been part of the Crows for hardly six months now. You were working as a waitress in one of the small pubs nearby and Inej had come across you on a fine Sunday night. On seeing how effortlessly you dodged arguments and punches, she knew you were a diamond in the rough. The Crows could always use skills like that and besides, you didn't even look like you were getting paid enough.

Kaz was reluctant to hire you, but Inej insisted that you would be a great help to everyone, especially her. After all, she was the one in the shadows, the one who gets information and secrets. Your skills would be great tools to assist her.

Straight after you were recruited, he knew he was done for. Even though he thought you would be intimidated to be surrounded by criminals, you easily fit into the picture as one. He hated that. He also disliked how he stared at you every once in a while, and with each day he got more and more curious. 

Why would you be so warm yet cautious? How could you be everything Kaz stood for, yet be so friendly? 

Not only did you do a great job in heists, you also made the business bloom in Slat. You always hung around the bar, as well as make small talk with the customers. You bought them drinks, got to know their family, and remembered their names for when they visit again.

“Y/N, hon, c’mere, stand by me! You’re good luck!” One of the men yelled from the gambling table. 

Kaz, who was sitting beside you, felt a sudden surge of hate. He thought the man was insulting her, but Y/N only laughed and held up a hand.

“Be right there, Jamie! Lemme get you a glass of wine too!” You replied pleasantly. 

“He looks like trouble,” Kaz said without thinking. You didn’t seem surprised by his comment.

“So do you, yet I work for you,” you rolled your eyes and took two glasses. You grabbed the most expensive wine and poured it, all the while Kaz scowled. 

“Besides,” you added, “much like you, he’s also a sweetheart. He would never hurt me.”

You left him baffled. As much as he felt annoyed, he also couldn't help but feel the blush spreading across his cheeks. He was glad you were already gone after Jamie, because he was sure you would have made fun of him otherwise.

That night, he didn't go up to his room. He watched Jamie’s table with interest — how you’d laugh with the drunk people, and how they'd laugh with you. The scene reminded him of sailors in sea — half-conscious, happy and nothing but care for each other.

Jamie was harmless after all. But there was something still making him itch. That second, he decided you trusted everyone way too easily and that put you in the path of danger.

He did the best and worst decision he could think of — make you Jesper’s responsibility. The two of you were to look out for each other and Kaz took comfort in knowing there was someone watching you. This plan came to bite him in the ass when he realized Jesper flirted way too much with you, and it positively annoyed him how you’d laugh and flirt back. -

Things never got out of control with your temper, but one particularly day, Inej was wounded and Kaz was the reason why.

“If you would have entered through the West entrance like I asked-” you began but he cut you off.

“We don't change plans, Y/N. We’ve been through this already.” Kaz looked at Inej with a frown, the only form of concern he could publicly display. 

She was being held by Jesper, her hands over her stomach, where she was stabbed by one of the guards. Nina was back in the Slat, so they needed another Healer.

“I’ll ask Kiran and see if he knows a healer or medik,” Jesper said, determined. You were suddenly grateful for his connections in the vast city.

“You sure you can trust him?” You asked quickly.

“He isn't the most likeable fellow, but we’re acquaintances,” he said, sighing. “Besides, we’re too far away from Nina.”

“I’ll be fine,” Inej said, her voice cracking. 

You almost burst out crying. Seeing someone you love in pain was really unsettling. Especially since you were supposed to help her. But you couldn't dwell on that, so you took your anger out on Kaz after Jesper led her away.

“You don't change plans? Kaz, you have plans from A to Z and you’re constantly switching from one to another!” 

“Yes, those are backup plans,” he started walking, and you followed begrudgingly. “Plans I make. You suggested a modification.”

“A modification you were stupid to ignore!” You retorted. “Inej is hurt because you were stubborn.”

“She will live,” he said hastily. “We get hurt, it’s part of the job. If you start worrying everytime someone gets a scratch, you won’t be able to have a clear head.”

“But—”

“I make the plans L/N,” he snapped. “You were flirting with Jesper instead of helping Inej, which you were paid to do. So who’s at fault here?”

Your mouth fell open. Clenching your teeth, you walked away, not bothering to explain how you were not flirting but coming up with a backup plan in case things went south. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, exhausted.

“I’m not sure, but if I keep talking to you, I’ll lose my sanity!” You said over your shoulder.

You walked around in the unfamiliar town, half-mad at Kaz and half-mad at yourself. Cooling off after a fight was valid, but all you wanted to do was go back to the Slat and sleep. How can you do that if Kaz might have already left? 

You were flirting with Jesper instead of helping Inej, which you were paid to do. So who’s at fault here?

Saints, he had a way of getting you frustrated! Your usual talks with Jesper were friendly and maybe yes, a little flirty, but that does not mean he likes you or you like him. It was mostly a distraction from how alone you felt in the Slat. 

A carriage stopped in front of you, and you saw Jesper himself as the one leading the horses.

“Get in, let's go!” He said with a smile and you didn't have to be asked twice.

Glad that you weren't lost in the town, you got in and saw Inej was sleeping inside, her wounds bandaged neatly. You breathed in relief but it went just as fast when you saw Kaz was sitting opposite to her.

“Thought you would have left already,” you murmured, sitting down beside him. 

“I don’t leave anyone behind,” he said curtly, his eyes fixed outside the window as the carriage started moving.

“Okay then,” you shrugged, feeling your eyelids growing heavier. It was a two hour ride back and you were already exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” Kaz whispered softly just as you were contemplating whether to sleep or not.

“What?” The shock was clearly pronounced, both on your face and in your voice.

“You heard me.”

“I did, but what?” You rose your eyebrows, looking sideways at him. “Did Kaz Brekker just apologize?”

He looked hesitant with his words. “I know I’ve been hard on you recently. It’s my fault, I’m sorry. You deserve more that that.”

“Yes, I do.” You smiled.

“No, you don’t understand.” He tore his eyes away from the window and met yours. “I was jealous of how easily you and Jesper were getting along. You deserve more than that.”

You sat up straighter. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“You deserve more than a life as a criminal,” he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You deserve more than the Slat. You certainly deserve more than a thief pining after you.”

You laughed, and even though it was night and he could hardly see your face, he still felt the breath being knocked out of him.

You’re beautiful, he thought, no longer worried about your response. It didn't matter if you don’t reciprocate his feelings. You were like the moon, and just being near you forever was worth it, even if it means you will never like him the same way he adores you.

“You’re not just a thief, Kaz,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re kind, just and brave — all in your own way. And though you could be a jerk at times, I’m never leaving your side. You better get used to it.”

“You’re going to ignore the part where I said I like you?” 

“Or maybe I just want to hear you say it again,” you tilted your head to one side, your eyes gleaming.

“You’re intolerable,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“And you like me anyway,” you smirked. 

Despite your sudden need to keep talking to him, you stifled a yawn and carefully leaned your head on his shoulder. He tensed, but didn't pull you away. 

“I think you deserve more than a life where you aren’t happy,” you said softly yet clearly.

“You make me happy,” he said bluntly.

“Then I’m not going anywhere,” you sighed, feeling sleep take you. “And just for the record, I like you too.”

Jesper whistled. Apparently, the talk was louder than you thought. Even Inej had a smile on her face, as if she was listening to every word under the disguise of sleep.

Kaz felt both his face and heart burn — one with blushing, the other with love. 

“An unwise decision, but I like it,” he whispered, leaning his own head against the side of yours. You had already fallen asleep, but it was okay. There were a lot more days to spend with you, and a lot of nights to talk.

Kaz was tired too, and despite his initial decision to stay up longer, he fell right into sleep — with a smile on his lips and you by his side.

[chaoticgeminate]

Wayward

Part of the Iridescence Fictional Universe

Hunter’s Gambit Series Part One

Werewolf!Francisco Morales x Selkie f!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: The local Selkie pod hires Frankie and the boys to track down missing members who ventured outside the sea-side area of the city, reader comes with them to make sure the missing selkie come home. They end up tracking down something more dangerous to all of the shifting people.

Chapter Summary: When pups of the pod go missing you bring up the idea to hire the local werewolf PI group to track them down, unaware of the real reason Francisco wants to have you work at his side on the investigation.

[AO3]

Tragedy had a way of causing a very noticeable shift in the atmosphere of a place, the halls of the restored hotel were silent save for the soft whispers of your pod mates, and experiencing the eerie of a change compared to the usual sound of boisterous laughter and barking calls that echoed in the vast space made everything feel more real. Your hand skated gently along Riona’s back as your sister curled against your side, with Kara pressed close to your other side as Marnie sat with her back pressed to yours; all of your sisters were waiting for word from the Elders and as usual had come running to you for comfort.

Not that it was a bad thing, you loved your sisters and the knowledge that your nieces and nephew were missing kept you looking out across the pier and around the entire port district for any sign of them emerging from some hidey hole. The alternative was far too grim but no amount of combing the bay waters had turned them up or any signs that they’d even disappeared into the depths, nor had any of the wards been activated to warn them of predators or invading meré. Every parent was on high alert and the remaining pubs were under strict surveillance, grounded to the hotel and escorted to their school by several larger bulls.

Tapping of boots on the shiny tile floor drew your gazes up, the pod members that had been lurking about scattered at the sight of the Elders with the alpha bull Gavin trailing after them and Riona looked up before slowly moving to sit up too. The carpeted floor in front of the oversized hearth was the spot that you four could usually be found, allowing the three elder Selkie to sit comfortably in the arm chairs while Gavin slid to the floor to be closer to your sisters. He tried to engulf all of you with a hug but you ducked under his meaty arm, not at all interested in showing any signs that you’d join his harem of cows, but your sisters did go willingly into his embrace.

“We’ve had no luck finding any signs of the pups, as you know, so unfortunately we’re going to have to assume the worst and take more protective measures going forward.” Elder Reagan’s voice was as cold as her personality, out of the trio she was easily the most difficult to deal with, and you glared at her when her expression soured as Riona burst into tears. But that surrender to whatever happened ignited your temper, set off a fire in your belly as you shook your head, and you ignored the warning look on Elder Malcom’s face.

This wasn’t the dark ages where the other mystic members of the city kept to themselves. “Have you considered asking the police to dispatch a Witch or a Mage that can do a tracking spell? There’s a PI office run by a werewolf pack, if you want to avoid spell slingers, even.” Your comment earned the full weight of Elder Reagan’s glare, something you were unfortunately familiar with, but it also earned the weight of your grandfather’s stare and Elder Malcom’s unamused look.

Seeing that you were about to be denied, and likely ordered to remain in your room like you were still a child, it was with a bit of haste you rose to stand up. “All of you act like we’re so isolated here and that nobody in this city is as capable as we are, while it might be true we’re the best shot of handling any issues that happen in the bay waters we aren’t infallible and this is showing us that. I’m not giving up on my nieces and nephew, even if I have to hire someone myself.” The room went quiet as your volume increased, several pod members watching from around the corners, and you turned as Gavin stood up with a very visible threat in how he held himself.

“Well said, my darling. All of you should be ashamed to be so willing to abandon any pups of this pod, especially the offspring of the former alpha bull and the current alpha bull bloodline.” Nana Caoimhe looked furious as she approached, as the former matriarch she still had plenty of authority in the pod but wasn’t technically on the council of Elders, and you resisted the urge to laugh as Pappy Rowan sat up straighter in his seat. Though small your Nana was mighty and had actually battled off several cows from your grandfather’s harem in her day, including Elder Reagan, and instead of falling into the docile role of submissive to the alpha bull you’d become much like her.

Even now watching her level that fierce glare she was known for on your pappy and the Elders made you feel better.

All of your sisters moved to stand with you and Nana Caoimhe nodded her head in your direction. “Get the werewolves on hire my darling; I suspect they’ll be more thorough since they had a strong pack mentality.” You nodded and scampered off at the clear order and began heading to your room, that way there was some privacy for the call, but you were buzzing with relief knowing that there was a chance.

It was small, sure, but it was still a chance that you could have a good outcome.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

“Triple Frontier PI, Will speaking.”

He didn’t bother looking up from his paperwork, the last few forms needed to be resubmitted to secure safe passage between their realm and the Summer Realm, but Frankie noticed that Benny had stopped his own work to eavesdrop. The younger wolf let out a quiet yelp when Tom swatted him in the head, since they had to finish submitting the last digital case file to the local Magic Council and Benny was supposed to be helping transcribe the last of the physical and audio notes, but Santiago’s soft growl was the thing that made Benny kick back into high gear.

“We’ll see you shortly, miss.”

Will cleared his throat and Frankie looked up as the other man got to his feet and began to pace, meaning this was very likely outside their usual scope of cheating spouses or catching a prankster Fey. “Selkie pod has pups missing, three of them, and they said no amount of combing the water of the bay turned up a sign of them.” His hand stilled and Frankie felt that curl of dread forming in his gut, he couldn’t fathom what the parents of the missing young ones could be feeling, he knew that the very idea of his own little Adelia going missing made him start to feel anxious.

Santiago was already tucking his finished forms for the Winter Realm into the bin they had specifically for outgoing mail, they would deliver all of this to the Consortium and the Ambassadors of the Summer and Winter Realms after getting the case information, and Frankie finished signing off the last paper before tugging on his cap and his fur-lined bomber jacket. While it was certainly chilly none of them really needed the excess layers, since they ran hot naturally, but it was always better to be safe than sorry with how weird the temperature could get here.

Having an Astromancer in the Consortium building, who helped police the spell slingers, always meant the weather was quick to flip depending on the spells they had to use.

“We’re headed down to the Pier district for the consult, the mothers of the missing three are going to be there and we’ll be taken to their rooms to get a scent. They’re really banking on a chance that the kids went missing above the water, but any sort of confirmation is better than nothing.” As they got into the beat up SUV it was easy to hear Benny’s soft whine and Tom’s frustrated growl, the latter had two pups of his own and like Frankie he was probably just as riled up at the idea of his girls disappearing without a trace.

Frankie exhaled as he steered the larger vehicle down the road before deciding to join the conversation. “We’ve never worked with a Selkie before; did they tell us anything we should know? Like, eye contact or anything?” With how vast the majority of were-kin and shifters in Se’Kvia actually reached it was imperative to learn and memorize basic manners of as many as they could, mainly to prevent issues in miscommunication, but the seal people were a bit of a mystery to them still.

Santiago grumbled slightly as he leaned back in his seat. “Nah, but seals and bears are closely related so that gives us a bit of a template.” Frankie nodded at the reply and turned onto the bend that took them up on the highway, more than happy to have memorized the road maps of Se’Kvia after moving here with the guys following the end of their military tour since the city was so big that there was an intercity highway. If it wasn’t one of the safest places in the world for members of the magic community he might’ve considered settling down with Adelia in the town of Stormhollow about a day’s drive North.

Will directed him to take the immediate right after taking the Pier exit, driving down a long stretch of road that ran parallel to the steam-train that the Consortium had installed for transport of goods from the warehouses to their distribution centers without needed a ton of large trucks, and Frankie made the left as directed toward what looked like an old vintage hotel. As they pulled up out front into a parking space he rugged off his cap to brush his hair back before sliding it back on, ignoring the look he got from Tom.

“Oh, thank was quick, thank you so much for coming.”

He hadn’t been looking at you but the breeze carried your scent right to him, the tang of the salty seaside breeze and the unique smell of warm sunshine permeating that natural part of you, but lingering under it was the smooth sweet smell of yeasty bread and an herbaceous smell that reminded him of tea with the hint of honey sweetness. Every inhale of your scent awoke something in him, that animal part of him that existed on instinct alone, if he’d been shifted his ears most certainly would have gone upright as a unique sensation itched in his chest.

Mate.

Frankie studied everything about you, his eyes raking across your face and figure, and that sensation only grew stronger when you met his gaze. There was strength, a determination, in you that he could clearly see and as he extended his hand to you the touch of your naturally cooler skin sent a delightful chill down his spine. “Frankie? It’s nice to meet you.” You gave him your name and he tested it on his tongue, watching with no small amount of delight at the effect it seemed to have on you, but Will returned the topic to the missing pups and Frankie ignored the feeling on Tom’s stern gaze on him.

“There are three missing, as I said.” You led them across the renovated lobby, the entire space was a large lounge area with a hearth in the center of the sitting space so that there were four stone corners and four openings to feed the fire inside, each side of the chimney had a shelf built off it with a TV of its own but he could tell they were all hooked to the same channel and the surround sound speakers were to prevent overlapping audio. “Colton, who is eleven, is the oldest and my sister Kara is his mother. Seena is eight, my sister Riona’s daughter. The last one is Flora and she’s six, my sister Marnie’s little one.”

Silence settled a moment as you served them tea, coffee, and fresh herb bread with the option of toppings including smoked fish. It was one thing for three pups to be missing but three family members? He wanted to growl and pace and begin hunting right away, to impress you so that you’d accept him when he told you that he was your mate, and the other part of it was that they were your family; which was, if you accepted him, his family. “Do they hang out anywhere around here usually? Outside of the water, that is?” Will’s question ripped Frankie out of his own head and your soft hum coupled with the way your nose scrunched was pretty obviously your thinking face.

A cute one.

“The boardwalk, it’s a bit of a hike from here but we’ve always been able to trust the pups to make the trip on their own and Colton is really responsible for his age. Kaleigh, who runs the arcade, said she saw them come in but never saw them leave with how busy it was.” Will jotted down the notes and nodded, looking up at the three women who approached nervously at your wave and Frankie could see the similarities in all three of you but it was pretty obvious you all had at least one different parent.

“Well, we’ll get the scents and begin looking around for you.”

Santiago accepted the pictures of each kid and Frankie knew he had to act fast. “Why don’t you tag along with us, that way if we do track the kids down they’re more likely to feel comfortable coming back because of a familiar face?” He watched your eyes shift to him and the sensation of being startled rippled through the pack bond, he subtly opened the bond just enough so that they could feel what he was feeling, and the disbelief faded before Tom cleared his throat.

“That’s not a bad idea, plus if we start asking around and people get suspicious we can have you there to deescalate the situation.”

Benny was offering him a sly grin that you and your sisters couldn’t see but Frankie didn’t care, too focused on the way your eyes softened and filled with determination again as you nodded. “Of course, anything I can do to help. Let me tell my Nana what is going on.” You walked across the stretch of lobby with your sisters and Tom rounded on him, eyes flashing in warning and Frankie bit back the growl that bubbled up in him.

He knew whatever his brother was going to say wasn’t going to be awful on purpose. “No fucking around until the case is over Fish, mate or not.” Santiago snapped his teeth reflexively at the way Tom’s aura swelled, a dominance show that all were-kin did outside of their other selves, but Frankie nodded before glancing at you as you hastened back to them. He almost preened when you accepted his offer to sit up front, that way you didn’t have to cram into the back of the SUV, and he found himself more than a little determined to please you by showing you how capable he was.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 12

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4221

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the parking lot. You were more than eager to start your training with Dabi, but he kept insisting you needed to fully heal your ribs first.

Today you weren’t taking no for an answer. You had used your new fancy collar to call Katsuki and ask him to bring you some things. He made a few comments about not being your personal errand bitch, but he agreed none the less.

You were flipping through channels as you lounged on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Dabi immediately went on the offensive, hands lighting up as walked over to the security monitor to check the cameras. You made a mad dash for the front door. You knew it was Katsuki and you wanted to get to him before Dabi did.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dabi’s hand that wasn’t currently on fire reached out to try and grab you as you ran by, but you easily avoided it.

“Relax it’s for me! It’s just Katsuki.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You could hear how annoyed he was, but this is what he gets for refusing to start your training.

You opened the door to an equally annoyed looking Katsuki. “Hey! Did you bring the stuff I asked for?”

He rolled his eyes, “Do you think I’d come all the way out here if I didn’t” He handed you a gym bag that was way heavier than he made it look. You took it from him and almost toppled over with how heavy it was.

He smirked as he grabbed your elbow to steady you. “So… you’re getting back into shape? You know I wouldn’t mind training with you like we used to. You were always a good work out.”

You beamed at him, “Seriously? That would be awesome! Dabi said he doesn’t want to.”

Dabi growled in displeasure, “Oh fuck off. I never said that. I’m going to train with you AFTER your ribs are done healing.” He pointed to the bag that was now slung over your shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”

You started backing up towards your room. “Just some work out stuff. You know so Katsuki and I can start training.” You sprinted towards the room before Dabi could argue with you.

“FUCKING BRAT!” Dabi rolled his eyes before looking at an amused Bakugo. “I swear to god If you show up here unannounced one more fucking time, I’ll move us somewhere far away where you can’t find us.”

Bakugo crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, “Yeah good luck with that. Besides I was invited.” He gave Dabi a shit eating grin. “I know she only called me to get under your skin. She wanted something, you said no, and now here I am giving her what she wanted.” He shrugged, “And I’ll keep giving her what she wants. Again and Again. As long as I have to.”

Dabi’s nostrils flared as he attempted to keep his temper in check. “Sounds pretty pathetic if you ask me.”

Dabi expected that to light Bakugo’s infamous short fuse, but instead the man just chuckled. “No pathetic is what you’re going to be after she’s done with you.” Bakugo took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Take it from someone who trained with her almost every day for years… She will chew you up and spit you out.” He gave Dabi a cocky grin, “I wasn’t kidding when I said she was a good workout. I almost wish I had time to stick around and watch her kick your ass.” He checked his watch, “If she hurries I might have time to watch for a little while.”

“First you listen to us have sex, now you want to watch us work out. You are such a little perv.”

Bakugo opened his mouth but before he could make a retort you were skipping back into the living room doing a little twirl to show off your new workout clothes. You wore a matching burgundy sports bra and biker shorts, brand new black sneakers, and to Dabi’s surprise your collar. “Thank you so much Katsuki! They fit perfectly, even the sports bra!”

Dabi’s eyes cut to Bakugo’s, “Like I said… Perv.”

“My parents work in fashion idiot.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to you and giving you a genuine smile. “You look good. Remember to stretch, drink lots of water, and do a proper cool down. It’s been a long time since you worked out. Don’t try and go all plus ultra your first time.”

You returned his smile, “No promises. But I will try to go easy.” You leaned over and started to stretch giving Dabi and excellent view of your ass in your compression shorts. He was mesmerized by the way your muscles stretched and flexed under your skin. He knew you were strong, but he was about to find out how strong.

His eyes were glued to your ass until an annoying blonde boy cleared his throat. “What was that about me being a perv?” Bakugo quirked an eyebrow at Dabi. “If you can’t even watch her stretch… then you won’t stand a chance fighting her.”

Dabi scoffed, “No offense to you doll, but I think I have a little more composure then your pervy little friend here.”

You finished up your stretching and made your way to the backyard. “I don’t know… Katsuki may have struggled at first. But by the time we graduated he got really good at thwarting my attacks.” You gave Dabi a cocky smirk as the boys joined you in the yard. “I hope you’re ready because I can honestly say I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

Bakugo took a seat in one of the pool chairs and kicked his feet up like he was about to watch a movie, “And so have I.” He chuckled as he leaned back putting his hands behind his head, “It’s a shame Icy Hot’s not here to see this.”

You loved that Katsuki was so confident in you, but it was also making you really nervous. If the parking lot fight was any indictor, your fighting skills weren’t as sharp as they used to be. You slowly made your way to stand across from Dabi who was doing everything in his power to look unaffected and bored. His only give away was the subtle way his fingers twitched with your every movement.

You cracked your knuckles and took a fighting stance, “I’m not going easy on you.”

The look in your eyes was enough to make Dabi want to kneel at your feet. You looked dangerous and determined. You looked like a queen ready to hand out a death sentence. He closed his eyes for a brief second to collect his thoughts and in those few seconds you dove at him sweeping his feet out from under him.

You could hear Bakugo laughing loudly from his chair, “She hasn’t even activated her quirk yet and you’re already jelly!”

You quickly rolled on top of him using your knee to pin his shoulder down. You activated your quirk, “See isn’t it just easier to submit to me? You could just let me tie you up and-“

Your words swam around in his head, it was the only thing he could concentrate on. He could think of nothing else other pleasing you. Doing what you said. You were right after all. It would be so much easier to just lay here with you. He didn’t even want to fight you to begin with. NO! This wasn’t right. You wouldn’t get any better if he didn’t try. He couldn’t give up so easily.

His hand came up and covered your mouth rolling over and pining you down. “Damnit that’s freaky.” He was still trying to clear his head when your tongue darted out from between your lips and started licking his palm.”

Bakugo was practically hollering over in his chair, “Oh you fucked up now!”

Dabi’s hand started to go numb. “Wait what? What the HELL! I thought it was only if I like drank your blood or some weird shit like that! How- How are you-”

Your eyes locked with his and you began a mental battle of trying to push into his head. You hand pressed into his side and started to overwhelm him with feelings of regret. You found it was the easiest way to break someone. Lots of people could push through pain. Lots of people push through lust. But regret was an emotion that ate away at a person over time. It only grew and festered until it drove people crazy. You saw a flash of fear in his eyes and you could only imagine what memories it was bringing up. This was supposed to be fun. You didn’t want to traumatize him, so you changed tactics.

Things were about to get really uncomfortable for Katsuki.

You switched up the emotion you were flooding him with to desire, and almost immediately regretted it. His hips snapped forward of their own accord as a growl left his lips. “Fuck! You really want to do this in front of blondie?”

You saw his composure start to slip and you used it to push past that last mental barrier. “Sumbit DABI!” You clouded his head with memories of the two of you making love and pushed harder, “Submit to me. Come on baby I know you want to.”

Dabi’s hold started to loosen, but once again he was hyper aware that this was you underneath him. His goal was to protect you. Giving in now wouldn’t help. He needed to help. So he started repeating that like a life-saving mantra in his head, “I can’t give up, I can’t give up, I can’t give up.”

You snapped out of his head so quickly that is startled you. “What the-?”

Dabi jumped away from you and scurried backwards. “Come on baby girl. You got to do better than that? You thought making me horny would cloud my judgement? I’m basically horny all the time around you.” He got to his feet, dismayed that not only was his hand still numb but he couldn’t seem to get his quirk to work in that hand either. “Your quirk won’t always be able to save you. Fight me one on one. No quirks.”

You jumped to your feet as well. “Oh, but I thought we were trying to not hurt my ribs?” He could hear the sass in your voice, and it made him want to spank you. He used the hand that wasn’t currently paralyzed to create a ring of blue fire around the two of you. He focused on the sound of flames, the way it smelled as it burned the ground below. He looked at you but not in the eye.

You dove out of the way as he swung at you. It was like a dance between the two of you. His attacks came at you full force and it was all you could do just to avoid him. You were permanently on the defense. You could seem to catch your breath long enough to switch to offensive. You were getting tired and your sore ribs were screaming at you to stop. But you couldn’t. You needed to push through it. He must have seen the way you were wincing because his eyes darted to your ribs.

You screeched as he started to shrink the circle, dragging you closer to him. “You weren’t complaining about your ribs when I bent you over the kitchen counter last night.” He shrank the circle even more. You reached out desperately to touch him, but he moved out of the way. Swatting your hands away at every move. The fire was getting closer and you were starting to panic. He could see it on your face. He reached out and grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him. Intentionally locking eyes with you. “There is nothing you could show me, say to me, or make me feel, that would break me.” Your hands darted out and cupped his cheeks. You tried to fill him with fear, but in your panicked state his emotions overwhelmed yours instead.

All you could feel was determination, defensiveness, fondness, and a deep-rooted need to protect. You locked eyes with him again this time you knew his weakness. You stared him in the eyes with yours full of fear. The blue fire inched closer and closer until it singed your back and you screamed out in pain.

There was horror in Dabi’s eyes as he looked at his hands. “I’m not doing this. Y/n! Y/n I promise I’m not doing this. He attempted to extinguish his flames, but they only got hotter and closer.

You were sobbing into his chest now. “Please put them out… please!” Your screams echoed in his ears and the only thing he could do was panic. He was hurting you. It was his quirk and yet he couldn’t stop it. “DABI IT HURTS!”

The pain in your voice was like a cold water in his veins. It pushed him into action as he managed to finally retract his quirk. He felt the flames smother out, he heard your soft sniffles. But something didn’t make sense… There’s no way Bakugo would have let this happen.

All of the sudden his eyes snapped open and you were sitting on top of him. Perfectly fine. It took him a minute to register what had just happened. “I didn’t mean to play dirty, but you’re one hard dude to crack.”

He gripped the back of your neck and pulled you down to him and smothered you with a kiss. When he pulled back your face was red, and your expression was flustered. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” He pulled you to him as he rocked you back and forth. “I thought I hurt you. Shit….” He pulled you away from him and gave you a stern look, “You’re a fucking asshole for that. What is your problem?! I already have fucking nightmares about this shit and you want to make it worse?!”

You didn’t know if you should feel ashamed or laugh. “Look I said I’m sorry! I knew that was the quickest way to get you to submit! Psychological warfare is my specialty.” His eyes remained cold, but his hands were reassuring as they traveled up and down your back. You pushed some of his sweaty hair away from his face. “I can admit I went a little too far.”

“I’m leaving before this gets too fucking sappy!” Bakugo patted your head. “Good job. You’re definitely a little rusty, but better than I thought you’d be.” He gave Dabi a sly smile, “As much as I enjoyed watching you toy with staples, I want to spar with you next time I’m here. For old times sake.”

You wiped some sweat off of your forehead as you nodded at him, “Okay! I’d love that. Maybe you could teach Dabi some of our old combo attack. Your quirks are a little similar, so some of them might work.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I doubt he could pull them off like I can, but we can try if that’s what you want.”

You nodded enthusiastically looking from Bakugo to Dabi. You were still sitting in his lap and he was suddenly feeling very territorial. His arms reached out and caged you to him, “If it’s going to end up in a pissing contest, I don’t want any part of it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t be so broody. Gosh it’s times like this that you remind me of your brother.”

Dabi shoved you off his lap and started to make his way back to the house. “I’m not fucking broody. You literally just made me think I was burning you alive. So, forgive me if I need some time to get my shit together.”

He brushed past a smug looking Bakugo, “I tried to warn you. She’s ruthless man. I am impressed you figured out her loophole so quickly. Once you focus on a concrete goal it’s easier to tune her quirk out. I wonder what your goal was?”

Dabi glared at him, “Don’t you have someplace you need to be?”

Bakugo sighed, “Yeah, I’m actually going out of town. So, I won’t be back for a little while. I think Icy Hot wants to come visit soon though.” He nudged you with his foot. “So, you behave until I get back.”

You waved as he made his way back into the house, “No promises! Be safe on your trip!”

A few minutes of silence passes while Dabi still stood with his arms crossed refusing to look at you. “How long are you going to pout?”

“I’m not pouting. I’m resisting the urge to bend you over my knee, spank you, and edge you until you cry.” He finally looked at you, eyes not looking nearly as angry as his voice sounded. “But as a rational adult, I think I just might go drink until I forget what you made me see.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your face into his back. “I’m sorry. I took it too far.” Your hands snaked under his shirt and pressed to his abs. You released a calm and content feeling. He immediately sank into your touch.

His breath hitched, “While I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I’d rather you not use your quirk on me right now.”

You reached up on your tippy toes and kissed the back of his neck. “Wanna go cuddle and watch TV?”

He took your hand from under his shirt and pulled you with him back into the house. “None of that romance shit.”

That’s how you ended up on the couch with Dabi laying on top of you with his head nuzzled into your breasts. His arms were tight around your middle and your fingers slowly trailed through his hair. You knew how exhausting it was for people when you messed around with their heads. It’s exhausting and disorienting, and while you weren’t at full capacity yet, you still had gone a little rough on Dabi today. You traced patterns on his shirtless back, and you listened to his steady breathing. He had passed out halfway into the first episode of whatever show he had insisted you watch.

You still had a lot of work to do to get back into shape. Not just with your quirk but physically as well. Dabi was right when he said you couldn’t rely on your quirk for everything. You’d have to start building your strength and stamina. You had a feeling Dabi might be hesitant to train with you again any time soon, but maybe you could convince him to do some cardio or something.

You softly chuckled as you imagined what kind of cardio he would have in mind. You felt him stir on your chest, his eyes remaining shut as he burrowed further into your chest. “What’s so funny?”

Your fingers kept playing with the ends of his hair. “What would you say if I asked you to do some cardio with me?”

He rolled over a little bit and bit your nipple through your shirt. “I’d say why are you still dressed.”

He was honestly adorable when he was this sleepy. It was the only time he seemed vulnerable. “I meant like going for a run.” His face scrunched up and your hand froze in his hair. “Oh, does that not sound like fun?”

His hand grabbed yours that had stopped, and forced it to keep running through his hair. “Not at all. Especially when there’s way better ways to get your cardio in…” He started kissing your chest, and then your neck. His hands moved to your ass picking it up off the couch to slot himself deeper between your legs. “We should test how far we can push you until your collar alerts me that you might need help.”

His fingers found the waistband of your shorts and started to pull them down. You hummed as his lips continued to mouth kisses at your neck. He was very affectionate and its not that you didn’t like it, you just felt like something was still bothering him. “Hey Dabi? What did you mean earlier when you said you had nightmares?”

He growled as he picked his head up to look at you, “You really know how to ruin the mood don’t you?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “We said we were going to open up more remember?” He shoved his head back to its spot on your chest, using you breasts as pillows.

“Ever since the pool incident… I get nightmares. I’m sure it fucked you with you too. I basically killed you. I honestly don’t know how you even come near me.” His voice was muffled and his grip on you tightened. “Today… what you did outside… please don’t ever do that again. I’m already a monster. I have enough nightmare fuel as it is. I’ve done really fucked up things and I can handle facing most of my demons. But whether I like it or not, you are definitely a soft spot for me.”

He kissed your neck as he made his way down lifting your shirt as he went. “You have gotten under my skin.” He kissed right above your still slightly sore ribs. “You have knocked down my walls.” His fingers found the waistband of your shorts again and yanked them down. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

In a burst of speed, he had your knees over his shoulders and your ass lifted in his hands. He kissed the inside of you left knee followed by the right. His kisses trailed down to the inside of your thigh giving it quick bite that had your hips bucking.

“I know that blonde idiot has confessed his feeling to you.” His thumb started rubbing circles into your clit. “So, I need you to know. That you are more than just a way to pass the time.” You felt a finger press at your entrance. “You are more than just some girl I’m supposed to protect.” His fingers plunged into you and started pumping. “You are more than some infatuation.” His fingers curled, hitting that spot inside you making you cry out. “You are more than I ever thought I deserved.” He gave your clit a hard lick. “But I have you now and I don’t fucking intend on losing you.”

Your fingers knotted in his hair as he began sucking your clit while he fucked you with his fingers. You instinctively knew how he felt. Of course you did, you’ve felt his emotions before. But to hear him say it made your heart skip, it made your head spin. He ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in days. One hand reached up and started pulling on your nipple and you lost it. Your hipped bucked up harshly and your legs shook. You came hard and he continued to lap up every last drop, riding you through it until you finally collapsed back onto the couch.

He grinned up at you, his chin still slick, “Good giiiiirl.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth cleaning them off before reaching for his belt. “Now let’s do some of that cardio you were begging for.”

Dabi was pressing his dick at your entrance when the doorbell rang.

You both froze.

Your shorts were yanked back up as Dabi grabbed his phone to check the security system. You watched his eyes narrow at his screen before his nostrils flared. “What the fuck!” Before you could even ask who it was the front door opened and in walked Shoto who apparently had his own key.

“Oh… Am I… Interrupting something?” He closed the door behind him, “Bakugo said he told you I was coming.”

“HE SAID SOON! NOT TODAY!” Dabi threw a pillow at his younger brother, obviously pissed off about the interruption.

Shoto ignored him and made himself comfortable on the recliner next to you. “Oh, well I wasn’t planning on coming today, but there’s been some developments you need to be aware of.”

You reluctantly sat up and separated from Dabi so he could face his brother. Dabi sighed as he gestured for Shoto to continue.

“There’s several people who are avidly looking for you. And some of them have gotten too close for comfort. That’s actually what Bakugo is doing right now. He’s hunting down a lead. He’s hoping to catch some of these so-called heroes in the act so we can start dismantling their accusations against you.”

The smell of smoke filled your nostrils as Dabi’s temper started showing. “What do you mean they’ve gotten close? How close? How many of them are looking?”

Shoto gave you a sad look. “They’ve made it a top priority. Your agency released a bounty to the underground. It seems every villain and crooked hero is currently looking for you. Shigaraki is one of them… and he somehow has a list of all of your safehouses.”

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

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse @aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi

[yikesharringrove]

It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore. 

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.

[beskarhearts]

Tangled (Javier Peña x reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader

Word count: over

Warnings: lots of cursing (reader has the mouth of a sailor), a little ~steaminess~, mentions of canon typical violence/getting shot, sexual tension

Summary: You and Peña were no strangers to being at each others throats but this argument went a little different than any other had.

Notes: This was cliche and self indulgent but I loved it and I hope you do too. Let me know your thoughts and opinions!! (also probably not going to turn this into a series but it isn't impossible ig)

________________

You charged towards the file room, feeling every ounce of your body flooded with anger as Murphy trailed after you, pitifully trying the stop the damage that was just about to occur.

"It didn't come from a bad place!"

You sporadically came to a halt, turning on your heels and pointing a finger right in Murphy's face, who had nearly crashed into you at your sudden movement. "Don't you dare try to justify this!"

Murphy's face was crumpled into a hesitant type of acceptance, still following you as you continued walking towards the file room, your anger radiating even in each harsh step you took. Once you reached the door, you slammed it open and nearly crashed it into Murphy as you threw it shut again, your eyes trained on the man you were directing every angry, foul thought at.

"Javier Peña, you fucking asshole!" you yelled, your pointer finger now directed at him as he turned to face you. You felt even angrier when he appeared to look at you tiredly at first, face twisted into an expression that perfectly read 'What now?' It didn't change until he registered your rigid body language and the way your face was a shade darker and your brows that were scrunched up.

Then his face dropped slightly and he looked over your shoulder at Murphy, who looked like a kicked puppy with the way he seemed to cower behind you. "You told her?"

Murphy winced slightly, trying to shrug away his concerns but his voice coming out empathetic. "She kind of interrogated me."

"Yeah. Y'know, because interrogations are part of the job!" you spat, eyes shooting venom at the brown-eyed DEA agent that stood in front of you.

He dropped the file he had held in his hand back in a box, placing his newly unoccupied hands on his hips and sending you a plain look. "Listen, it was nothing-"

"You know what else is part of my job, Peña?" you interrupted, allowing him no room to throw around pitiful remarks and false explanations of why what he did was okay. "Let me tell you since you have clearly forgotten: part of my job is catching the bad guys. Meaning I am fully capable of being on the field and getting my hands dirty!"

You took in a deep breath, your whole body feeling like it was on fire from the rage coursing through your veins. Peña let out a small sigh, rubbing at his face and his mustache as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes. "I know."

You let out an agitated huff, throwing your hands up and looking over at Murphy, as if saying 'get a load of this guy'. You turned back to the DEA agent, clasping your hands together. "Let me get this clear then. You are aware that is part of my job. And that this fucking case has become my whole entire life. Yet you neglect to notify me that tomorrow you are going to arrest one of these motherfuckers and don't put me on the God damn team!"

You probably should of quieted down. Surely people could hear you outside the thin walls of the room you were in but you paid no attention to that. Hell, let them gather outside the door and listen to how much of an asshole Javier fucking Peña was. It wasn't like they hadn't heard you two bicker and yell at each other before - it was practically a daily occurrence. You were always at each others throats and the smallest thing could tick you guys off but today was different. Today your anger was completely justified and directed at the exact right person.

"Why don't we all calm down and talk this over calmly?" Steve gently tried to suggest, always the voice of reason during times like these. Sometimes you would entertain his ideas but today was not one of those days.

"Fuck off, Murphy!" you snapped.

Peña redirected his attention to the blond-haired agent. "Give me a minute."

"Oh, you are going to try to magically explain this one away?" you ridiculed as Murphy left the room quietly, shutting the door gently and leaving you two alone.

Javier looked back at you, looking calm as ever and unaffected in every way. It only made your blood bubble even more and as he spoke, you felt your whole body clench up. "You need to calm down."

You hissed at that comment, literally hissed. "Oh, fuck off! You have no right to tell me to calm down. If somebody did this to you, you'd be tearing into their ass and acting like a bitch."

Javier couldn't argue that point, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that not only was it true, but there was no way he could convince you it wasn't. It also was probably the worst thing to say in this given situation, always was something that tipped you off.

"I mean, the fucking audacity you have is unbelievable. Truly impressive." you started to ramble, still sending a deadly glare his way. "You think you are hot shit because you are Javier Peña and you are a DEA agent and the fucking man whore of Columbia. But I am just as good as you, Peña. Hell, I am probably fucking better!"

"You are right."

You froze as you heard his agreement, biting your lip as you tried to detect whether or not that was meant to be some sarcastic play to rile you up. But it appeared genuine which only confused you further. "Then why am I being excluded from extremely important events?"

"It's dangerous." Peña answered plainly, adding no additional details as if that was enough.

You scoffed, tilting your head at him. "No shit, Peña. No offense but no one becomes a DEA agent because it is a safe, secure job. So that doesn't explain why I wasn't included in this."

Peña shook his head, leaning against the rack of files as he looked back at you. You wanted to force him to look away, his stare making you uncomfortable but there was no way you were backing down. "It does. This one is particularly dangerous and I don't want you involved."

Your eyes widened as you took in this new information. "Oh, so you think I can't handle myself?"

"I never said that-"

"I can handle myself, Peña. I am a fucking adult and not to sound cocky, but a hell of a fucking agent. I am capable and I am strong!"

"I know."

"And I can handle this mission."

"I know."

"Then why the fuck did I have to find out from Murphy that I am not joining you guys tomorrow?" you yelled, feeling your body become slightly fatigued from all the anger but you still stood straight and tall.

"Because you care too much and you'll get yourself killed if that means nailing these guys." Peña said plainly. No hint of emotion or manipulation. Just an honest answer to an honest question.

You found yourself for the first time not feeling angry but slight bamboozled. It felt like the rug had been pulled under your feet. You were standing across fucking Javier Peña, who you were pretty sure had never seen take a single day off. "That is the most hypocritical thing I've ever heard."

Peña nodded. "Okay."

You rolled your eyes, feeling once again angry by the dismissal. "Well fuck off because I spoke to everybody and I am on the team tomorrow."

You began to turn towards the exit when the man firmly stated, "No."

You turned back around, an eyebrow raised. "Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"I'm in charge tomorrow and you aren't on." Peña said, a sliver of annoyance eeking out of his words as he looked back at you with a stern glare.

"Fuck off. If I want to go, I'll go." you fired back, arms crossing over your chest defiantly.

Peña stepped closer to you until he was a couple feet away, his voice lowering to a menacingly deep level. "I don't want you on tomorrow."

Your eyes were practically shooting bullets in his direction. "I know you don't fucking like me Peña, but stop acting like a school boy and get your head out of your ass."

"Maybe you are the one with your head up your ass, agent." Peña cooly said.

You tried to ignore the way he was looking at you (and the way you could smell his aftershave from here) and put your hands on your hips. "Fuck you, Peña. You don't want me on tomorrow because I am a better agent than you, you selfish prick."

"That isn't it." Peña said with a chuckle, shaking his head as if you were saying the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

"It fucking is, isn't it? You don't want me strolling into your operation and doing the job better than you. Can't have your huge fucking ego tarnished by me!"

"That is not the reason why!" Peña shouted back, feeling himself lose his temper slightly.

This was the Peña you were used to, the one you egged on and led into a battle of cruel words and hateful glares. "Oh, fuck off. That is absolutely why!"

"Maybe, just fucking maybe-" Peña cut himself off, his chest now heaving as he copied your pose, hands on his hips and body stood straight.

You couldn't help the small grin that grew on your face. "What is it, Peña? Say it. Don't punk out now when things were just getting interesting."

"You are a child." Peña spat back.

You chuckled harshly. "Look in the mirror before you start throwing insults around, Peña. Now what were you going to say?"

Peña stared back at you, your eyes locked together in a visceral manner. "I don't want you to fucking die."

You couldn't help the throaty laugh that erupted from your very core, your head thrown back as you looked away from him for the first time to try to gather your composure. "Oh, fucking please! Spare me. You have never given a shit for me!"

Peña shook his head, looking slightly deflated as he looked away from you. "Fuck off."

"Oh, don't act like that. I am just supposed to stand here and believe that this whole time you've secretly cared about my safety and you don't have me on the operation tomorrow in order to keep me safe?"

Peña looked back up at you and you nearly wavered from the look in his eyes. You couldn't handle it if it were the truth, which the look he gave you said it was, so you continued on doing what you did best. "I don't need anybody to protect me. Certainly not you, Javier Peña."

"I'm not trying to protect you."

You lifted up a hand emphatically. "So you didn't not put me on this because you don't want me to die?"

"Fucking hell, you are so frustrating." Peña yelled back, face red and eyes throwing daggers as he stepped even closer to you.

You didn't dare take a single step back. You would show no fear or weakness. "And you are such a walk in the park? I forgot about how the man-whore of Columbia was always just a pleasant-"

You were cut off by Peña lunging forward and for a split second you thought 'Oh, shit. I'm gonna have to kick Peña's ass.' That was until you felt a pair of rough, chapped lips press into yours mercilessly and a pair of calloused hands grab at the side of your face.

You stood still for a solid few seconds, your brain seeming to short-circuit until it slowly registered the undeniable truth of the situation: Javier Peña was fucking kissing you.

Well then push him off of you!

Except you didn't. For all intents and purposes, you should have. You should of shoved him off of you, yelled at him for trying to pull his 'sex god' card on you, and maybe even delivered a striking slap to his face, just for dramatic effect. But you didn't. You stood there completely still until eventually your hands reached for the collar of his jacket, roughly pulling him in until he was pressed so tightly to you that you didn't think there was an centimeter of distance between the two of you.

You felt him turn you, pushing you back until your back hit the same file cabinet he had been leaning against earlier. Your lips finally caught up with the rest of you, lips fighting dominantly against each other in a frantic battle. It probably wasn't the prettiest kiss but holy shit, you couldn't think of a time you had been kissed like this. The kiss was so striking but also so passionate, both of you fighting each other in the most deliriously addictive way. You couldn't ignore the smallest voice in the back of your brain asking you why you hadn't done this way earlier.

Eventually your tongues danced against each other, begging for even the smallest taste of each other like you were both addicts craving even the slightest taste from the bottle. His hands drifted away from your face to your hips, clutching them roughly and tightly but not hurting you in any way. Just gripping hard enough for you to feel them and feel the emotion.

Eventually, after what felt simultaneously likes hours but also mere seconds, Peña pulled away and holy fuck, how did he look so good? His lips were puffed and red, slightly wet from the sloppiness of the kiss. His eyes were hooded and looking at you in a way he had before but you had never been able to place, always mistaking the lustiness for hatred (and hold up, had it just been lust this whole time?). His jacket was still clutched tightly in your hands and you should of let go. Anyone could walk in and see him standing up against you on a shelf with your faces red and chests heaving but you couldn't even bother to care, your brain still reeling and your body betraying you, yearning for more.

"I'm going tomorrow." you said, still slightly out of breath.

Peña sighed, his warm breath fanning over you and smelling slightly of mint gum and stale cigarettes. "I know you are."

You nodded, glad to see his slow acceptance creep in. You slowly released the jacket, looking at how it had crinkled from how tightly you had pulled him to you. He backed up slowly, one small step at a time as his eyes still traced each others faces.

Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him again, fight with him again in the most delicious way but the door opened and you both turned to see the tall, blond-haired agent you had both become closer with than you initially thought possible.

"Have you guys killed each other?" he asked, trying to joke but also hesitant to with how foul your mood had been.

You desperately pulled away from the shelf and shook your head, though not to answer him but in some desperate attempt to try to shake away the evidence of what just happened (despite the fact that it was imprinted on your mind). "No. I'm going tomorrow."

Murphy shared a weary look with Peña who just gave a short nod and began to walk towards the exit. "She comes. If she gets shot, its not my problem."

You and Murphy both watched him slip past, moving out of the room and down the hall, away from you. Murphy twisted his head to look back at you, shaking his head. "Based off his behavior, I'd say that went well." he sarcastically mumbled.

You tried to chuckle but it sounded fake and hollow, your mind too preoccupied. "Yeah. Super well."

Murphy gave a roll of the eyes, used to the two of you being frustrated with the other as he slipped away from the doorway. You followed him as you made your way out of the room, the room where you still comprehend what exactly had happened in it. "You must of really went after each other this time."

You nearly choked at Murphy's quip, your mind taking a moment to realize he was speaking rhetorically about your arguing. He had no way to know the violent dance your lips had done or the way you both had perfectly expressed arousal and hatred with your tongues alone.

You just hummed, pushing past Murphy to head to your desk so you could work and just forget what had happened. Forget it because it meant nothing.

[bruhlsbees]

paradox burning ; 2/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

summary: when it seems you've lost earth, panic finally settles in

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

word count: 5,548

warnings: biting of skin around the fingers, mentions of mental health issues

a/n: finally settled into my apartment and have wifi! i will admit this one was a little hard to write so i apologize if this was a little hard to read. next chapter for sure will have more meat to it! thanks for all your comments, shares, and support! <3

Another test aboard the Cloverfield Space Station. The 47th test in just over two years is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. All eyes are on-

“This is Huntsville...we’ve got eyes and ears.”

Seated beside Acosta, you watched the newscast presented on the screen with Mark Stambler - the conspiracy theorist who was on yet another rave about this so-called ‘Cloverfield Paradox’. Acosta seemed to be just as irritated with what the guy was saying just as much as you were. You could only wonder how many people actually believed what this guy was saying.

“Right this minute, they are testing a particle accelerator up there, so we can learn how to make unlimited energy down here. But those who have accepted the Cloverfield Paradox is real...know how dangerous that is.”

Shaking your head, you brought your fingers to your mouth, chewing on the skin that was around your nails, leaning forward towards the screen. You didn’t know what was more nerve-wracking...what Stambler was going on about, or the team around you preparing for the next test.

As you sank your teeth into your skin, tearing it off before moving on to the next finger, you felt a sensation trickle down your spine, as if someone were watching you. Glancing to your right, you quickly pulled your fingers from your mouth at the sight of Acosta giving you ‘the look’. Blushing, you looked down and squeezed your hands together in your lap.

“Sorry...just a little anxious.” You whispered, your eyes falling back to the screen.

Placing a hand on your knee, Acosta gave your knee a comforting squeeze before pulling away, “It’s going to work this time. I know it will.”

Nodding your head, you smiled weakly at Acosta, finding a sense of ease with his own hope on the day. You did your best to focus on the newscast again, ignoring the stinging sensation from your fingers at the spots that you tore into too deep. The faint taste of iron in your mouth from the blood. You knew you’d have to clean up after the test, not wanting to go around with bloody fingers the rest of the day.

“This experiment could unleash chaos…the likes of which we’ve never seen. Monsters, demons, beasts of the sea-”

“To clarify, you believe their efforts to solve the energy crisis might unleash demons?”

Scoffing, you couldn’t help but laugh as it continued on, “This guy really thinks that we are going to break open some world-ending creation, doesn’t he?” Shaking your head, you leaned back in your chair, your hands gripping at the armrests on either side of you.

It was the Commander who finally had enough of what bullshit was spewing from the guy’s mouth - directing that you and Acosta turn it off. As you did, you heard over the intercom from Volkov that the gyro was calibrating, meaning that it was only minutes before the test finally began - but not before egging Schmidt’s temper on how his station was doing.

You smiled weakly at Schmidt who rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath as he continued on before your attention went to Mundy who approached you and Acosta, asking for him to grant them with his ‘holy stick’. When Acosta stood to lead into prayer, you sank to your knees on the ground, crossing yourself before clasping your hands together, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, waiting for Acosa to begin.

“Oh come on. Not now when we’re-”

Opening one eye, you looked to see Schmidt slightly amused, in shock that you were about to go into prayer before the test. You all had your own faiths, or lack thereof, and something you and Schmidt never seemed to see eye-to-eye with was that. He could treat it as a joke all he wanted, but this was possibly the only thing that gave you even an ounce of peace of mind.

“Schmidt.”

When the Commander scolded Schmidt, he fell silent, sitting in silence while Mundy, the Commander, Acosta, and yourself all gathered around for Acosta to lead you into prayer.

“The farther we travel from home, the clearer it becomes that there is power infinitely greater than us. Please show Your mercy and allow the Shepard to work this time. To provide the energy we need. To prevent our countries from going to war. Please, God, be on our side. Amen.”

Standing up, you smiled at Acosta before laughing as Mundy went in to fist-bump Acosta.

“That was righteous.”

It was finally time for the test to begin. As the accelerator began to power up, the team gathered around to their stations, you stood beside Acosta, watching as Schmidt made his way from his station towards the two of you.

“Back to work. Sunday school over with?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Schmidt’s comment, shaking your head as he smirked, winking your way before turning towards the middle of the room, to the main starter for the accelerator.

“He’s insufferable.” You mumbled, earning a laugh from Acosta before he nudged you, heading over towards Schmidt and Mundy. You followed in suit, standing beside Acosta as you watched Schmidt prepare to launch the accelerator.

As you steadied yourself for the test, you found yourself toying with your cross necklace, squeezing the pendant between your fingers as you listened to Schmidt count down before turning the key, igniting the accelerator. The ship around you began to shake as the accelerator kicked in, preparing to send out another test of electricity.

You didn’t have it in you to watch, closing your eyes, you began to mumble a prayer to yourself, hoping that this was it - that this would be the test that worked and that you’d all get to go home. Back to your families, back to a normal life, back to reality.

“Please…” You found yourself whispering, “Please let this work.”

The whirring sound of the machine almost drowned out Tam’s voice, but when she repeated herself, your eyes shot open. Did you hear her right? Was this test successful?

“What’s our output?” Commander Kiel asked.

“We have positive energy flow,” Schmidt began, “For the first time. Look at this! Look at this!”

Of course this was a time to celebrate. For the first time you managed to finally run a successful test. Turning towards Acosta, your smile grew from ear to ear before rushing into his arms, hugging him tightly as the two of you laughed, happy to hear that your prayers were finally answered and that they finally managed to figure out how to get a successful test.

“We are focused at 47 teravolts.”

“Oh man!”

The cheers and celebrations that went around were only expected - perhaps a little unprofessional with some of the language that came from Mundy, but nobody could be upset - after two years, finally you had something go right.

“Hamilton, get us in viewing mode.”

Watching as the screen changed from your current view of Earth to the accelerator lighting up. Your grin never faltered at the sight of the beautiful purple hue buzzing, indicating that everything was going smooth. All things were finally going to plan…

Until they weren’t.

You weren’t sure what happened, but the purple light soon became too much, practically blinding you until the power shut off completely, the accelerator overloading the system. Catching yourself as the ship violently rocked, the power shortly coming back, your eyebrows furrowed as the alarm began to ring, screaming at Schmidt as the warning for ‘system overload’ presented itself on the screen.

“Schmidt! Tell me something!”

“It says it hit 602-”

Before Schmidt could finish his sentence, the glass in the room shattered, sending everyone ducking to the ground. You groaned at the bits of glass digging into you and how abruptly you were thrown to the ground. Pulling yourself to your knees, you lifted your hands up, flipping them over to see that your palms were covered with glass, small trickles of blood freckling your skin.

Looking over towards the main window, you squinted at the sight of the harsh light beaming in, the electricity buzzing picking up again. You covered your hands over your ears, the sound becoming almost too much for you. What the hell was happening now?

Before you could even ask, you felt your body suddenly lift off the ground and into the air, hitting the ceiling along with everyone else - pinned in place before being dropped to the ground again. This time you rolled to your back, letting out a cough as you tried to collect your thoughts.

The test failed. You along with many others would probably have some sort of injury that you and Acosta would have to look over later. The test failed and you only had two more tests now before...well....

When you sat up, you let out a sigh before grabbing the table in front of you, pulling yourself up before sitting in the chair. Your hands at this point were burning from the glass and your head was so heavy it felt like it was going to topple off your shoulders and roll to the ground. But there was no time to recover just yet, because this was just the beginning.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After attempting to kill the fire and figure out what exactly was failing with the ship, everyone came back together in the main control room. Glass was still everywhere and the awful smell of smoke still stung your nose. You currently sat in front of Mundy, looking over his hands and picking out the glass with tweezers, your own hands wrapped now from you and Acosta treating one another before the others returned.

The hiss that came from Mundy made you jump, although you continued to work on his hands, pulling out the final pieces of glass from his left hand before wrapping it up to match his right. You looked up and smiled at him, letting his hands go as he stood up to gather around with the others.

You knew that panicking wasn’t going to help anything, but the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and it was hard to not lash out when Volkov and Schmidt were at it again.

“For once, Volkov! Could you please just shut up?” You snapped, your back facing away from him as you rubbed at your temples.

“Enough! All of you!” You tensed at the sound of the Commander’s voice booming over the arguing that was going on. He didn’t have to say it for you to know, but you all sounded like a bunch of toddlers throwing tantrums.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you chewed on your bottom lip as you calmed down, or at least attempted to. You were doing fine until Hamilton spoke up.

“It isn’t here.” Hamilton explained, a worried expression washed over her face. The color was drained from her face, as if she saw a ghost.

Spinning in your seat, you watched as the Commander headed towards Hamilton, standing beside her as he looked down at the screen. What wasn’t there? Was it the frequency for Mission Control like Schmidt suggested. No, it was much worse.

“The Earth...it isn’t there,” Hamilton rushed, “I...can’t find anything.”

“We must have got turned around, moved during firing.” The Commander suggested.

“Well it’s big, blue, full of angry people. Keep looking, you’ll find it.” Mundy pressed, now hovering like many others over the station that Hamilton was at.

Standing now, your own worry began to sink in. How in all names holy did you just lose Earth? Making your way now beside Mundy, you watched Hamilton as she continued to look over the monitors for Earth, still unable to find anything.

“I’ve double checked the radio target, but the target’s gone.”

“Guys, the system is scrambled!” Mundy reminded, trying his best to remain calm.

“Hamilton is right,” Looking over towards Schmidt, your heart sank to your stomach. You didn’t want to believe that Hamilton was right, but it seemed as though she was. “It’s-it’s not here. We’re not picking up any signals!”

“The entire Earth is not gone!” You finally cried, tears filling your eyes. “We didn’t just lose Earth!”

As everyone around you began to frantically look through the monitors, your brain went to your family. To Mama, Papa, to Mila and Joseph. Did you lose them? No, no you couldn’t have.

You didn’t wait around to hear Volkov point blame at Schmidt, when you didn’t see the Earth on the external cameras, you pushed by Mundy and made your way out of the room, rushing down the hall to begin looking out the windows for yourself.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

As you looked out the window that was outside of your own quarters, you felt the whimper escape your throat, your body rocking slightly before your attention turned towards your room, rushing in suddenly and towards your computer, typing in Joseph’s name to start a video call. You knew it was a long shot, but you could only hope Joseph would answer.

Staring at the screen through your tears, feeling some finally begin to spill over, you watched as the call searched for a signal - feeling like forever until finally-

/COMMUNICATIONS ➤ NO SIGNAL FOUND

“No...no...no!” Wiping away your tears from your face, you frantically retried the call. Waiting until the same error message popped up. Sinking into your chair, you stared at the picture of your family, the red error message burning into your eyes.

So this was it. The weight of possible damnation staring in front of you. How could something go so right, yet so wrong in the matter of just seconds?

You tried one more time to call Joseph, watching as the connection buffered before the same message popped up again. Letting out a shaky sigh, you dropped your head and cried until no more tears could fall from your eyes. The overwhelming sense of fear filling your body.

After taking a moment to recollect yourself, you stood up and wiped your face, heading to the mirror to look over yourself. No matter how hard you wiped away your tears, it was still so evident that you had been crying. You didn’t want anyone to see you like that - knowing that you were cracking under pressure.

“Get ahold of yourself,” You whispered, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You shook your head once before fixing your hair, wiping away the tears and letting out a sigh, shaking your arms and legs as if to get all the nerves out, “You’re going to see them again. Crying isn’t going to solve anything.”

You took one final look at yourself in the mirror before nodding, taking a final look at the screen once more, looking at the picture of your family.

“I’ll find a way home. I’m not going to stop until I’m back with you.”

Despite knowing that it was just a picture, you waited a moment, as if waiting for them to respond before exiting your quarters and moving down the hall, back to meet with the others.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you walked into the common room, everything felt heavy. Despite the room filled with everyone now, besides the Commander, nobody spoke a word. Sniffling, you quickly wiped your face to make sure no new tears were falling before making your way to the table, taking a seat at the end in between Acosta and Tam.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to you, staring ahead of you at the table. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat, choking on the whimper that dared to escape. Clearing your throat, you tried to pretend that you weren’t on the verge of crying, coughing once before hearing the corridor doors open.

“Alright, here’s what we’re up against.” The Commander spoke as he sat down at the other end of the table. Your attention turned to the end of the table where he was seated, listening to what he had to say.

“The station’s got problems we don’t have tools to fix. At this point, looking for home is a luxury for us. First, we need to survive.”

“We need to consider, evidence or not...that we might have ended the lives of billions of people,” Acosta interjected. You sank in your seat, your eyes watering. You hadn’t thought of it like that. Did you destroy the Earth? Did you wipe out your home planet instead of just get shot to some other part of the galaxy?

“We didn’t destroy the Earth,” Schmidt explained, surprisingly calm, “We just...lost it.”

It was Mundy who let out a laugh, and you couldn’t blame him, it was almost a joke as to how Schmidt had put it.

“Totally routine day. Copy that.”

Shaking his head, Commander Kiel motioned towards Mundy and then Schmidt, “Mundy, take Schmidt and deal with the O2.”

Looking up, surprised to hear that the Commander wanted Schmidt with Mundy, you smiled to yourself - it seemed like any sense of normality was off the table now.

“I’m a physicist.” Schmidt reminded.

“And now you work for Mundy,” Adjusting your position in your seat, you leaned forward against the table, listening as the Commander continued on with orders, “Tam, you and Monk will search and repair all power leaks. Maybe we can get this temperature under control. Hamilton, Volkov, test all circuits, then we can start looking for home.”

“When the Shepard overloaded, something went wrong with the station’s orientation system.” Volkov explained.

“We’ll replace the circuits-”

“No shit, if that’s the problem!” Volkov cut Mundy off, annoyed at the obvious solution, “But um, it might be the gyro.” You watched as Volkov messed with the side of his face, rubbing under his right eye as if something were bothering him.

You tried to ignore Volkov, your attention pulled to the Commander when you realized that he hadn’t assigned you to do anything. Watching as everyone headed out, you stood up and made your way towards the other end of the table.

“Commander? What can I do? You didn’t assign me anything.” You pointed out, toying with the bandages around your fingers from where you were biting at earlier.

When you caught that the Commander was looking at the bandages, you quickly dropped your hands, as if trying to hide them. You watched as he smiled weakly, standing up before placing a hand to your shoulder.

“Yeah, listen...I want you to go check on all medical supplies. Actually, supplies in general. See how much we have and figure out how long it’ll last us.” He nodded and went to turn, going to meet with the others before you stopped him.

“Wait, that’s all? Commander, I’m sure I can be of help elsewhere.” You explained, taking a step forward towards him. The Commander’s steps slowed to a stop, his shoulders sinking as he let out a sigh before turning around.

“When you were going through your interviews and evaluations, what was your weakest eval?” He questioned, perplexing you until it came to you.

“M-My psychological evaluation, Commander,”

“Yes, exactly,” He took a step towards you and placed both hands on your shoulders, “Like Hamilton, you have family you’re close with, which oftentimes brings more stress to you both than the rest of us.”

“I don’t understa-”

“Your fingers. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re under a lot of stress right now, anxious about not being able to contact your family. Right now you going and trying to mess with wirings or the systems is not safe. Not for you, or the rest of us on here.”

You felt insulted. So what if you were experiencing a slight breakdown - who wouldn’t be in your shoes? You passed your evaluation, barely, but you did. You felt like a child, not being able to play with the big kids because you were too small.

“This isn’t fair, Commander. I’m just as much a part of this crew as everyone else. There must be something I can do to help!”

Pulling away, the Commander sighed and shook his head, “I want you to go to the medbay and go through medical supplies, that’s what you can do. Please, don’t take this as punishment. You are helping,” He paused and straightened up, clearing his throat, “Now I don’t want to hear anymore of it.”

And with that, the Commander left you in the common room, alone with your thoughts. Feeling your hands balled into fists, you looked around the room, tears welling in your eyes before you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Incompetent...is that what I am now?” You squeezed your nails into your palms before feeling the tension inside of you soon pop, leaving you back to your empty state of mind. Wiping your cheeks, you mumbled a string of curse words as you headed out of the common room and down to the medbay where you were tasked to look into the medical supplies.

When you arrived at the medical bay, you shut the door behind you, pulling on a pair of gloves before grabbing the clipboard that contained all the medicines on file and quantities. Opening the first cabinet, you went through the list, verifying that everything was in order and that you had the correct amount of vials that were listed on the paper.

You grew tired of the task quickly, rubbing your eyes and blinking as you stared at the paper. Looking up from the clipboard, you tossed it down on the examination table before sitting at the stool, closing your eyes to take a break, soon drifting off into an unexpected slumber.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“There are a few that I’m worried about joining you on the ship, Commander,” You overheard someone - a woman - state. You could hear her flipping through files, searching for the right paperwork.

You were the last of the crew to receive your final evaluations before departing onto the Cloverfield Station. You knew something was off when you finished your psychological evaluation and the doctor left in a hurry, not stating much other than you were free to go. Now you were seated outside of the examination room, waiting to receive your results from the Commander, toying with the hem of your shirt as you listened to the doctor and Commander speak.

“She hardly passed her psychological evaluation. Her temperamental issues, not as severe as Volkov or Schmidt, are still high - dangerous when unstable. I fear that she may become a threat on board if the wrong situation should arise.”

Frowning, you held your stomach as it began to flip, making you sick. You had always known of your own mental health issues, of course, but to the extent the doctor was putting it made you sound incompetent of joining the crew - and you knew that you had a right to be on board just as much as the rest of them.

“So what are you saying, Doc? If Volkov and Schmidt are good to be on board with their own temperamental issues, what is the concern with her?”

“It’s not that she has anger issues, but something more depressing. Being in space, without the sun, away from family, it can send someone into a state of panic. I fear that her being around those medical supplies, especially when she is having an episode, will not only harm her, but the others too.”

The silence that fell over the Commander and doctor made your heart sink. So this was it? All this time, all this money, all this preparation just to be told no right before boarding? Shaking your head, you stood up and went to leave, not bothering to stay to be told what you already knew.

But before you could make it to the middle of the room, the Commander’s voice startled you to a stop.

“She is no threat to this crew and belongs on board the Cloverfield just as much as the rest of them do. Until I see her pose a threat, I don’t give a damn what cruel ideas you have set in mind for her.”

As you turned your attention back towards the doorway of the room the doctor and Commander were in, you felt your cheeks become red when you saw the Commander, in a huff now standing in front of you.

“Commander, I-”

“You’re all cleared for boarding. Go change into your uniform and prepare to meet with the others. We leave at sunrise tomorrow.” The Commander quickly said, not letting you get the chance to even attempt to apologize for eavesdropping.

Your mouth turned into a small smile, nodding before turning and making your way out of the room and down to the room you were staying in on base, the closer you got to your room, the bigger your smile became.

Waking with a start, you tried to catch your breath as the sound of screaming came from outside. Jolting up, you made your way towards the door before stopping halfway as the entire crew came in, carrying, well, that you didn’t know.

“Clear the table! Quick we need to get these pipes out of her!” You heard Acosta yell, motioning for you to clear off the examination table.

Nodding, you frantically made your way to the table, pushing off the clipboard and other things you had piled on before stepping back as the crew surrounded the table, setting the mysterious woman down before holding her as she thrashed about.

“Who is this?” You asked, squeezing your way beside Acosta, holding up a light as he began to cut away her pant leg, revealing the wiring that was going through her. Gasping, you held your hand to your mouth, trying not to gag at the grotesque sight.

Nobody seemed to be responsive, in their own world as they tried to calm the woman down, pinning her until Acosta was able to inject her with something in the leg to numb her pain and put her to sleep while he operated on her. When the woman was finally asleep, the room filled with just the panting of everyone on the crew, you looked up at everyone.

“I’ll ask again, who the hell is that-”

“We don’t know! Okay? We found her in the wall, wrapped in the wirings and screaming.” Schmidt exclaimed, his face red.

Glaring towards him, you shook your head and pointed your flashlight at him, letting the light hit his eye, “Don’t sit there and talk to me like that. I wasn’t there. You expect me to just sit back and watch as some random person comes into the medical bay?”

Schmidt held his hand up to block the light from hitting his eye, “Would you get that light out of my face?”

You dropped the light, watching as he dropped his hand before you shot the light back up to his face, blinding him once again, a smirk toying on your mouth before jumping at the sound of the Commander.

“Enough! Acosta, finish looking after her and give us an update when you have one.” You watched as Acosta nodded, continuing to look over her. As you started to get your own set of medical supplies to help, you were stopped by the Commander, placing a hand over the drawer before you could get anything out.

“No, not you. Go to your room and cool off for a minute and then you can come back and help. Right now, you’re on the brink of-”

“Of what?” You snapped, turning your attention to the Commander. You ignored the rest of the crew in the room who tried to not so obviously watch and listen, but you kind of made it hard when you were pulling a scene. “I’m sorry that I’m reacting like a normal human being, Commander. But to be quite frank, we’re fucked. I’m not going to pretend that we aren’t, especially when you have a strange woman who you claim to have come from the wall lying on the examination table!”

Your face, now red, stared up at the Commander who seemed to be blank faced. When he didn’t say anything, you fell back on your heels, scoffing.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. I’ll go to my room and suck my thumb because evidently that’s all I’m good for!” Moving around the Commander, you pushed past Schmidt, knocking him to the side before storming out of the medical bay and down to your quarters. It was times like now that you wished the doors were manual, so you could slam your door shut and let the irritation seep out of you.

When you arrived at your quarters, you pulled off your medical gloves, tossing them in the trash before unzipping your suit, decided to change into your sweatpants and t-shirt as you didn’t expect to be doing much else today.

“Stupid...incompetent...might as well just say it to my face instead of dance around it,” You mumbled, pulling up your sweatpants as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You pulled your hair from your ponytail and shook your hair loose, letting it fall down your shoulders.

Hearing the door open and shut, you looked through the mirror to see Schmidt, his hands behind his back as he made his way towards you.

“What do you want?” You asked flatly, crossing your arms over your chest. Even in that moment, you were too annoyed to even want to see him, and usually you always wanted to see Schmidt. When he didn’t answer you, you uncrossed your arms and pointed to the door, ready to kick him out before being suddenly blinded by the light.

Flinching, you jumped at the light and closed your eyes, groaning as you held your hand up to block the light, “Okay, I get it, I’m sorry - but you really pissed me off, you know that?” As you blinked your eyes back open, adjusting to the light, you tried to not smile as Schmidt made his way to you, setting the flashlight on your desk before wrapping his arms around you.

“When don’t I piss you off?” He asked, smiling down at you as he moved his hands under your shirt, rubbing your waist. Moving your hands up, you placed your hands flat on his chest before pushing him away, your own smile now creeping onto your face as you went and sat on your bed.

“When you’re asleep,” You teased before cocking your head to the side, “Actually, no, even in your sleep you piss me off. Did you know you snore? God, it’s awful. Makes me want to suffocate you with my pillow.”

Smiling, you watched as he laughed, making his way to sit beside you on your bed, pulling you close to him as he kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw before up towards your ear, “I know something else you could suffocate me with.”

You giggled at the feeling of him biting on your earlobe before sitting back against your pillows, your legs now on his lap.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Something important to do? Or were you put on babysitting duty?” You shook your head and looked at your fingers, examining the bandages to make sure none had to be changed.

Shaking his own head, Schmidt looked down at your feet that were rested in his lap before rubbing your ankles, “Tam is meeting me at the X-Deck in ten minutes, but I wanted to stop and see you first after what happened in the medba-”

“What happened in the medbay was nothing, Ernst. I’m fine.” You knew that lying to him was pointless, but right now you didn’t want to explain to him what you were feeling, why you were feeling it, and so on. To you, it felt useless given everything else that was going around.

When you didn’t hear him respond, you looked up and frowned, seeing his own disappointed expression on his face. “Look, I’ll tell you later, okay? I’ll leave my door unlocked for you.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, holding his face in your hands.

At the feeling of his own hands on your face, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, you sighed against him, wishing that the moment could continue. Pulling back, you stared up at him, “You should go,” You explained gently, leaning forward to kiss him one more time.

Schmidt nodded, mimicking your actions and kissing you as well one last time before moving your legs, standing up off your bed before looking back down at you.

“I’ll be here at the usual time. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Nodding, you smiled and watched as he turned, heading out of your room and going to the X-Deck to meet with Tam, leaving you to your thoughts again.

When the doors shut behind him, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, laying back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Perhaps the Commander was right, maybe the mission finally cracked you.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Pheromones

Fandom: Mass Effect

Collection/Series: N/A

Pairing: Selene Shepard x Garrus Vakarian

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: T - Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW

Warnings: N/A? I think (if i’m wrong let me know!)

Summary: Selene’s a little confused about something Javik says to her, she naturally asks her Turian boyfriend about it. 

Notes: Based off this conversation with Javik. I’ve never actually written Shakarian stuff in all my years of loving the ship. But, with Mass Effect: LE taking over my life, why not? 

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“So...Javik said something really...weird when I went to see him earlier.” 

It had been a long day; finding out Cerberus was turning people at Sanctuary into husks, seeing Miranda again, stopping her father from killing Oriana...it had taken a toll and then to come back and have a really bizarre conversation with their Prothean teammate? Well, Selene Shepard was glad to be back in a pair of yoga pants and a large jumper. 

If Selene was completely honest with herself she was exhausted. The war was taking its toll on her, all the responsibility that lay on her shoulders only seemed to be lightened by the support of her team and most importantly, Garrus. Her cybernetics had been bright and bold across her skin as of late, a sure sign that she was running out of steam. Despite the exhaustion, Javik's words weighed on her mind, confusing, curious and just a reminder of how alien he really was. 

Garrus came out of her, no, their shower, towel around his cowl, visor, no longer obscuring his face for once. God, it is so utterly domestic between the two of them now and something in her aches with the awareness that this might all be cut short, that domestic might never be a long term option for them. She hopes it will, hopes silently that they’ll get to retire somewhere, have a couple of kids, a varren or two, and life out their days into old age. 

“Weird? Weird to humans or...just weird?” The dual tone of his voice rings with curiosity. It had taken her two whole years of missions with him for her to actually get a good grasp on his subharmonics and even now there were things her weak human ears couldn’t quite pick up on, or even hear at all. 

She thought for a moment as Garrus sat down next to her on the bed, nuzzling his face between her shoulder and neck like he always did. It was something she’d taken as a turian sign of affection, the way his plates scratched at her skin and mandibles fluttered across her shoulder, she could only compare it to a human placing kisses down. A nuzzling that he never failed to do, whether they were standing and he had to bend over or they were sitting or lying down. 

Leaning into him with her eyes closed, she traces a hand across the plates on the back of his neck. “I...think it's just weird? He said he could tell we were ‘joined’ because of my...pheromones…” 

Garrus froze in his nuzzling, pulling back with his face plates drawn together, mandibles fluttering in confusion. “Well, yeah? I scent you all the time, been doing it since you agreed to be a one turian kind of woman. I thought...I mean I smell like you too…?”

“Scenting? I what?” Selene was decidedly confused, Garrus didn’t smell like her at all. In fact, the little scent that he had was of the more metallic and engine grease kind from spending all his time tinkering with things or modifying his sniper rifle. She certainly didn’t smell like him, not to her nose anyway. 

She pressed her face into his cowl and took a big, over exaggerated sniff. Nothing. He didn’t even smell like her shampoo or the jasmine soap she’d managed to find on the Citadel. Just...Garrus. 

Garrus chuckled, three fingered hand cupping her cheek, filed down talons grazing carefully across her skin to smooth out the furrow between her eyebrows.  

“Oh, right, you humans and your terrible sense of smell. Cute.” His grin flared his mandibles out wide, sharp teeth on show in a display of good humour.

“Garrus!” He liked getting a rise out of her, enjoyed seeing the pale skin of her cheeks turn as red as a Palaven sunset, something Turians just could not do. It was always so distinctly human, glaringly alien, but adorable. Not that many people would describe the Commander Shepard as adorable, but most people weren’t in a committed relationship with her...or he hoped most people weren’t. 

“Honey, it’s normal. We sleep together, we make love,” She groaned a little at the word choice as he returned to nuzzling underneath her neck, talons moving up and down her back in soothing motions, “we shower together, we go on every mission together, we spar together…” Selene can’t help the little moan that leaves her mouth as his breath warms across her skin before that tongue of his, blue and ridiculously dexterous, carves a path over her shoulder and up her throat, lingering on a spot behind her jaw that he knows all too well. 

“And turians are kind of known for scenting their partners.” 

“What does that even mean? Scenting? Like a cat? Are you marking your territory?” She’s never taken Garrus for being possessive, in fact, he was decidedly cool under pressure whenever someone decided to try it on with her. Occasionally he’d shift in a way that told people to back off, pressing his chest to her back, but that was only in instances where the person didn‘t know when to quit. Usually an overzealous asari or persistent human. The idea of him marking his territory, or even seeing her that way was kind of out of character to her, he just wasn’t like that. They were equals in everything they did. He was her person and she was his, one of them wasn’t more dominant in the relationship, they were partners. 

“Yes and no. You're not my territory, honey, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you're a one turian kind of woman, but I trust you and I know you can handle yourself. It’s a habit really, an instinct. I’m surprised you don’t know, you do it too.”

It’s a relief to hear him say that. While she finds Garrus ridiculously hot when he goes all bad boy vigilante turian on someone, the raw power he exudes is something else entirely, something different that starts a fire in her belly, she also doesn’t want to be seen as an object or possession. 

“I do?” They’ve gravitated, as they always do, towards each other. Selene finds herself curled up in Garrus’ lap, arms wrapped around his cowl and nose pressed to the junction of his neck, pressing light little kisses there had become a favourite pastime of hers. Calming, soothing. 

“Mmm...all the time, that little nuzzling thing you’re doing?” She pulls back, startled, eyebrows almost comically high and red still tinting her cheeks, “Yeah, I thought you were just a little possessive, but maybe this is one of those interspecies miscommunication things, huh?”  

“I...oh.” She curls back into his neck, bashful in a way no one else sees. Garrus enjoys seeing her like this, out of her element but trusting, seeking comfort in him even as he’s the source of her embarrassment. Their relationship is unconventional and with it has come embarrassment and nerves from both sides, but it’s the trust in him, and his trust in her that’s made it work, that makes it worthwhile. 

He runs his fingers through the red of her hair, the strands soft and silky, a sensation that he still finds fascinating all this time on and one that he knows she finds soothing. He can only compare it to how he feels when she caresses underneath his fringe. 

“So is that why that C-Sec officer stopped flirting with me every chance he got?” She thinks of the dark brown turian, bright orange markings across his face. Before she’d seen Garrus again, before they’d rekindled their relationship, he’d been determined to flirt with her, no matter how many times she politely turned him down. He’d since stopped, his tone always overly polite and formal, nervous even. She’d assumed Bailey had given him a dressing down, but...maybe not. 

“Mmm, probably.” His chest rumbles with the hum, soothing and deep, reverberations running through her, “Most turians aren’t going to flirt with a taken woman, ever seen two turians get into a proper fist fight? It’s more claws and teeth than anything else.” No turian wanted to get into a fight over someone they had a passing fancy for, that Garrus knew for a fact, best to leave someone alone if they were clearly in a relationship.

“Would you? If someone tried it on?” She’s curious, deeply so. Part of her wants to know he would, but part of her wants to know that he’d think about it, and take his time to decide if it was necessary. Garrus had always had a bit of a temper, quick and righteous and determined to put things right. But, he’d mellowed with age, with her nagging him and convincing him to spare people who’d wronged him and others. He was more calculating these days. 

“Depends.” A hand falls to her waist, circles being rubbed into the skin underneath her jumper, absent minded and soothing as his blue eyes look to the skylight above her bed, staring out at the stars. Contemplating his next words.

“On?” She leans up to press a kiss underneath his chin, the soft exposed skin tempting her.

“Do you want me to? How badly are they trying to get into your pants? Are you in danger? Do you need me to? Is it someone I know and despise?” His voice rumbles in his throat, she feels the vibrations against her lips and ringing through her ears. That was something about being with a turian that she loved, the subharmonics were soothing to her ear, the rumble that always seemed to roll through his body was comforting. She wouldn’t call it a purr, mostly because Garrus would fix her with that look, narrowed eyes, mandibles drawn tight against his face. He’d probably go back to calibrating the guns for a week or two straight. God, she hated that. 

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t fight for my honour?” She’s teasing him, but she can still feel him tense up. Her lack of subharmonics tended to confuse him whenever she joked and he couldn’t see her face. 

Taking pity on him Selene pulls back so he can see the amused little smirk that tugs at the corner of her mouth, freckles scrunching up across her cheeks and nose. 

“I...you’re messing with me aren’t you?” There’a a palpable sigh of relief from him as his shoulders relax and he rolls his neck before pinning her with a playful glare, huffing through his nose at her. He’s the only person she can truly be playful with and she knows he enjoys it, the closeness of their relationship isn’t lost on either of them. He makes her feel less tired, more alive, younger, even if it's for a brief moment before reality crashes back down again. 

“Yeah, just a little, big guy.” She tugs his face down gently by a scarred mandible, he follows easily, putting himself in reach so that she can press a kiss to his cheek, across the blue colony markings that are oh so familiar to her. Affection with Garrus is easy: “I love you, but I don’t need you tearing someone’s throat out for me...unless it’s Kai Leng, you can tear his throat out.” 

The assassin was a thorn in her side and she was close to snapping, her usual restraint and desire to talk things through was failing. She wouldn’t negotiate or talk with Kai Leng. If she finally got the chance...well, he probably wouldn’t be recognisable afterwards. 

“Oh, I'm tempted, believe me. There’s nothing I'd like more than to put every ounce of my anger and hatred into beating Kai Leng into a bloody pulp. Buuuut, I think you deserve the satisfaction yourself.”

“I love you, you know that right? Even if I'm walking around stinking like a turian vigilante.” She caresses the lengths of his crest and underneath, scratching short nails against the soft skin there and the purr, because it is a purr, that rumbles from his chest is almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting revenge on Kai Leng.

“Reaper Advisor actually.” He brushes his cheek against hers, hard plates brushing against soft skin, gently, not hard enough to chafe or rub. “I love you too, even if I'm walking around stinking like a self-sacrificing human spectre.”

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[confused-as-all-hell]

Rowan Whitethorn

“You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell--because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity.”

Rowan Whitethorn, arrogant and powerful and fierce. The Fae Warrior, Prince of Doranelle, King of Terrasen. A male who had held death in his arms, who loved a queen without her crown, who had a laugh like midsummer thunder.

He was by no account perfect. His love was scarce, his warmth thinner still. His tongue was edged in steel. His temper is rivaled by none.

Rowan has his faults, but the primary source of his hatred is his appearance. People pick on him for being white and for being muscular, as if being either of the two is awful. I understand how several white characters might spark frustration, but (I say this as a woman of colour, myself) that is a fucking bullshit reason to hate him. He did not rummage through a box and draw out the label reading “white.” This is how Sarah J Maas chose to write him. 

Rowan might have a more muscular build than average, but that’s literally the entire point. We are shown he trains and works out strenuously, as well as eats certain food to keep himself fit. He is careful with himself, and genuinely puts in the necessary work to retain his muscle. He is a trained warrior that has lived for hundreds of years, of course he’s going to have accumulated strength. Do not attempt to dissuade me on this topic, as I know from personal experience the effects of working out.

Yes, he is out of the ordinary in terms of his looks. Silver hair, green eyes, skin made tan by the sun. But he is always described as handsome from Aelin’s point of view, and have none of you ever been in love? Your boyfriend or girlfriend or significant other is always staggeringly attractive through your lenses. His face is never written as angelic or perfect, however, and Rowan is thought of as extraordinary but not impossible. 

Allow male characters to be stunning without detesting them for it, as you would females. I have too often seen people (the same people who praise Nesta or Gwyn for being beautiful) write long-ass posts on why Rowan just isn’t realistic. Maybe it isn’t. But if you opened a fantasy novel expecting realism, I will find myself amused. Rowan is fae, for fuck’s sake. Sarah J Maas wrote them to be attractive.

Another point of speculation is Rowan’s initial dislike of Aelin. He is thought of as abusive, which I will blatantly disagree with.

When Aelin first arrived in Mistward, she and Rowan were not friends. They were not associates. They were two grief-stricken, trauma-ridden characters with awful coping methods and no hope to be seen. Over time, they began to work together, and that begrudging respect blossomed into friendship.

Did they detest one another? Yeah, they did.

And then they realized the full extent of their comments, how wrong they were to be so awful, and they made their peace with it. The point of that dislike was to give them both character arcs, to show they grew from the furious, miserable, bleeding shells of themselves.

They grew from that pain. 

Hatred became acceptance, acceptance became respect, respect became friendship, friendship became love. They did not love each other instantly, nor should they have. It was slow, and they learned from the mistakes they made, they apologized for them.

Their romantic relationship (nor platonic) was never toxic. It was always mutual communication and understanding and “I will be here for you, but I will not dive in to fix all your problems.” It was concern and support and admiration. It was “I will sit with you, and I will light my lamps to banish the dark.”

Does Rowan worry after Aelin often? Yes, of course.

But have none of you ever been in love? During times of strife, of terror, you’re always calling in to make sure they’re okay, they’ve dealt the day’s cards. Rowan worried after Aelin, but he never, ever suppressed her. He allowed her to go about on her daily business, he just wished he could accompany for the more dangerous activities. It was not coddling or stifling her, it was wishing for her safety. 

Let Rowan worry over his best friend (now wife) without being detested for it.

Had my own best friend put herself in danger, I would have her head for it. I don’t know who told you only friends can worry over your safety, but they lied. Rowan is entitled to being angry at Aelin when she leaves in the dead of night and comes back drenched in blood. 

If it was Aedion who was furious, would you have such a problem with this?

For fuck’s sake, a significant other is just your bestest friend who loves you romantically rather than platonically. 

Rowan proves time and time again he will always stand beside Aelin; when he pleaded for his cousins’ aid in the war, when he was prepared to give his life for her during QoS, when he was always, always, always there to lend a hand.

He extended a hand... but she was always the one to take it.

He was respectful and courteous of her every boundary, and she his. They never waded too deep into each other’s pasts, never pried or tried to lift that barricade. They gave each other space, understanding.

Yes, I heard you, they didn’t have the best start. But the point of character arcs is to start in a bad place and haul oneself out. It wouldn’t have worked if Rowan was this sweet, gentle, warm character from the very beginning who kissed Aelin’s ass.

Rowan’s wife and unborn child had died, and he was forced to shoulder that burden alone. He was forced to deal with his war trauma alone. He was made into a monster, and he felt he deserved nothing less.

Rowan acted harshly towards Aelin because a few of her comments were triggering and insensitive towards his trauma, and if we can find it in ourselves to forgive Nesta Archeron (who I love very much, don’t attack me) we can forgive him for dealing badly with his issues. 

Just because he is a male, and he doesn’t cry or scream or outwardly show his hurt, we have seen from his part of view that he loved Lyria, and Aelin is so different from her, but he loves them both and his guilt is awful.

 His being protective over Aelin is a product of his trauma. He left his wife alone, and she was promptly murdered, alongside his unborn son or daughter. Don’t you think it still frightens him to leave Aelin be, especially in their current war state? Even still, I can think of around two occasions where he was protective, and not one more.

What I’m trying to say is, Rowan is allowed to be flawed and PTSD-ridden and hurting.

What I’m trying to say is, he can make mistakes and fuck up from time to time.

What I’m trying to say is, he is worthy of love all the same.

[oksana-moods]

Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog ​​lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

--

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

--

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

--

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

--

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm. 

Masterlist here 

AO3 Link here

‘Y'know, when I asked you to manage 'Tsumu, I never imagined you'd manage him like this.’  Osamu states bluntly, eyebrow raised as Atsumu spends yet another evening seated right by her spot at the till, lobbing playful insults and jokes at her until she snaps at him to ‘shut up for the love of all that is holy and stop disturbing the other customers’ . 

‘Like what?!’ she splutters unconvincingly, her cheeks turning red. 

Osamu gives her a knowing look before he turns away to welcome in another batch of customers. 

Osamu closes the shop on the anniversary of its opening, and throws a small party at a rooftop bar that a friend of his owns. She’s told that her attendance is absolutely mandatory, so even though she has class early next morning, she finds herself with a drink in her hand, staring down at the crowds of downtown Osaka. If she squints, she can see a child pulling her mother to a stop, pointing overhead at the rainbow of neon street lights in awe. 

‘A hundred yen for your thoughts?’ She doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Atsumu, his lazy drawl far more pronounced than Osamu’s. 

The child in the street below remains rooted to the spot, causing a buildup in the crowd despite her mother’s attempts to pull her away. It makes her think of the first time her parents brought her to visit the city more than a decade ago, and how overwhelmed she felt, surrounded by people and buildings tall enough to touch the sky, so different from her hometown of rolling hills and bamboo groves. 

‘Did you feel sad when you left home?’ she replies with a question of her own. 

‘Nah - was excited, really. Always dreamed of playin’ volleyball in the big leagues, so stayin’ home wasn’t gonna cut it for me, y'know?’ 

‘Heartless. Probably made your mother cry’, she accuses him, and he acknowledges it with a careless laugh. 

‘What about you? Thinkin’ about home?’ he asks, coming to stand beside her, eyes trained on the thin line separating building and sky. 

‘Leaving was necessary’, she responds simply. 

Especially with two older brothers blessed with both brain and brawn, far better suited to inherit her father’s steel forge. But while her father might spend most of the day teaching her brothers how to craft the sharpest knives, his evenings were spent at the kitchen table with her perched on his lap, learning to balance numbers in his account books. And with her schoolteacher mother drilling into her head the importance of an education, moving down to Osaka for an accountancy degree seemed less like a choice and more like an inevitable conclusion. 

He frowns at her silence. ‘Did you get kidnapped by aliens or somethin’? Usually you’d be snappin’ at me, or scolding me, or shouting at me for being a dick – completely undeserved, by the way’.

‘I just seem quiet because you talk too much. Has anyone ever told you that?’ she retorts. But there is no fire in her words, and he only chortles in response. 

They watch in silence as the crowd below them slowly starts to thin out as the dusk fades into night. The cold night air bites through her thin sweater into her skin, and she shivers, unconsciously shifting closer towards Atsumu’s warmth. He shoots her a look that’s halfway between a smile and a smirk as he slides his jacket over her shoulders, and she pretends the flush on her cheeks is from the alcohol in her drink. 

But she can’t help but lean into him, letting herself drown in the heat of his hand on her hip and the storm in his eyes. 

Osamu’s eyes cloud in disapproval when he finds out she and Atsumu are dating. ‘He’d better not run off my accountant, that’s all I can say’. 

‘Osamu! Atsumu’s your twin!’ she scolds, arm deep in a vat of rice water. 

‘Exactly’, he responds with a snort. ‘I’m not sure you realise how much of a dick ‘Tsumu can be, ‘specially when all he’s hungry for is chasing a win. I hope you’re ready to handle that.’ 

‘You’re just worried because you’re too cheap to hire a qualified accountant to do your books’ she grouses and he looks like he’s about to snark back, but the chatter of their first customers of the day entering the shop signals the end of their conversation. 

Dating Atsumu isn’t as bad as Osamu makes it out to be. She’s careful not to ask too much of him when he’s busy with training and competitions, and in any case her schedule is full enough with school and her job, but they make the effort of video calling each other at least twice a week if he’s travelling, and if he’s in town, they spend Friday nights with multiple boxes of pizza (Atsumu’s appetite is enormous) , bickering over what movie to watch next. 

He insists she watch as many games of his as possible, and he spends so much time crowing about his plays that she should be annoyed, but she finds herself charmed by the childlike enthusiasm in his voice. ‘That’s probably why you’re the only one that can stand him’, Osamu comments but she pays him no mind. He’s in the audience cheering for her when she graduates, and takes her out for a fancy meal when she lands her first job ( no, Osamu, working at Onigiri Miya doesn’t count, no matter what you say). 

Their paths might not always converge but when they do, there’s the quiet contentment of finding shelter in each other, and she quickly becomes addicted to the warmth of that feeling in her heart. 

‘Stop being a baby’, she scolds, as she peels back the sports tape on Atsumu’s back with deliberate care. ‘It’s your fault for going for practice with a strained shoulder and not listening to your physiotherapist!’

‘Don’t nag darlin’, I had to – it was Hinata-kun’s first practice with us!’ He’s practically buzzing in his seat with glee, and she can’t help the soft smile that grows on her face. 

‘There - all done’, she says, and she can’t help but run her hand to rest in the dip of his spine.  

‘What would I do without you?’ he asks, shooting her a roguish smile that distracts her long enough that he’s able to pull her into his lap. 

‘Idiot’, she huffs fondly, and he chuckles in reply, the sound warming her heart. ‘Hey ‘Tsumu?’ she says again, pushing his wandering hands away. 

‘You called, doll?’ he quirks an eyebrow at her, hands heavy against her hips. 

‘I love you’, she whispers against the broad expanse of his chest. 

‘I know’, he says with light laughter in his voice, and swallows her outraged cry ‘arsehole!’  by sliding his mouth over hers until her breath starts to stutter and she closes her eyes. 

There is a storm raging outside, but she pays it no mind. 

Her stomach churns when she sees the faint line on the test she bought in a panic during her lunch break, and she now wonders whether the nausea she’s been feeling the past week was not a bug she thought she caught, but actually morning sickness after all. That thought makes her feel like puking her guts out again and she does - unceremoniously every morning for weeks after that. 

Atsumu’s in the middle of a series of matches away from home, and she knows he’s warned her again and again not to distract him especially when the championship is within his team’s reach, but the rising swell of panic in her throat outwrestles any rational thought she has left in her head, so she finds herself blurting it out to him the minute they log on for their twice weekly call. 

‘You’re pregnant?’ he echoes blankly, rubbing a disbelieving hand over his face. ‘How?’ 

‘D’you remember the gala night for the opening of the season when I was on antibiotics for an ear infection?’ He nods dumbly, and she twists her fingers in her lap. ‘Yeah… Well I figure it must have happened then.’ 

The connection of their call crackles, and she strains her ears for his response. It doesn’t come. 

‘Tsumu?’ 

‘Right.’ he finally says. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

‘I...don’t know,’ she confesses. 

They’re both barely on the cusp of adulthood, and the thought of bringing a new life into the world that she’d be wholly responsible floods her with a tidal wave of fear and dread and anxiety that does not ebb away. She’s not sure her boss will take too kindly to finding out she’s pregnant, much less so out of wedlock, especially since she’s barely a year into her job, and she doesn’t even want to think about the dishonour and shame she’ll bring to her family - though a part of her is willing to brave her father’s disapproval and her mother’s tears just to feel their arms around her again. 

But her hands are drawn to the slight swell of her belly, and perhaps it’s sentiment clouding her mind, she’s not sure she has it within her to stamp out the flicker of life budding within her after nights filled with dreams of a child with her smile and Atsumu’s eyes. 

‘Look - I’ve got to go. We’ll talk when I get home, ok?’ he mutters, logging off before she can say goodbye. 

But he doesn’t - not even when his team wins the championship and she finds out from the team’s social media that he’s returned back to Osaka. 

Her calls go unanswered, her texts remain unread, and with desperation rising in her chest she turns to Osamu - even though she initially swore to herself she wasn’t going to drag him into the messes that Atsumu tends to make. But the laws in Japan require the consent of the father if she wants to get rid of the problem (though it feels wrong to term it like that), and he’s the closest male friend she trusts enough to step up to the plate. 

‘Fuckin’ pig’ he snarls, slamming his fist down on the counter so hard it makes her jump back in shock at seeing the normally mild-mannered Osamu lose his temper and react with such obvious rage. But he calms down quickly to close his shop early and walk her home. 

‘It’ll be fine’, he promises her. ‘You’ll see’. 

She’s not sure she trusts Osamu’s definition of fine, not when Atsumu turns up on her doorstep that same night with a smear of blood under his nose and a purple bruise over his right eye. She stares at him, her arms folded across her chest.

‘What do you have to say for yourself, Miya?’, she says, and he winces at her use of his surname, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.  

‘I freaked out ok? Finding out that you got pregnant - that I’m going to be a  dad  made me panic ‘cos I’m totally not ready for that  shit  - even though Osamu’s right, I’m a piece of crap and you’re probably going through so much worse and I should do right by you -.’

‘Atsumu, what are you even saying?!’ She interrupts, exasperated. 

‘I’m asking you to jump off a cliff with me’, he says, lifting his chin to return her stare.

‘Wha-’ 

‘Marry me.’ He cuts in softly, bringing his hand to cup her face, brushing his thumb across the corner of her lip. ‘It’s gonna be one hell of a ride, but you and I - we’ll get through this together’. 

She’s struck dumb, suddenly reminded of how being with Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. While there’s the thrill of being near enough to witness the sky collapsing into a torrent of rain and hear the wind descend into howls of rage, there’s also the lingering fear that the next flash of lightning might mean pain, or even death. 

But Atsumu’s eyes are clear pools of light, and she can only see  hope  reflected within it. She wonders if it mirrors the hope in her heart too. 

So she says yes, and catches his smile in her hands. 

They hold a small wedding at the Miya family shrine with their respective families as quickly as they can before the swell of her belly is unable to be hidden by the folds of her shiro-muku, the traditional white of her kimono a stark contrast against the black and gold of Atsumu’s montsuki. Her face is hidden under the weight of her headdress and her hands tremble as she clasps her kaiken, a blade her father forged himself, and her mother’s bamboo fan to her belt. She does not breathe until she and Atsumu take their third sip of sake from the nuptial cup. 

Osamu is obviously appointed as the best man, and after the ceremony is over, he slaps Atsumu on the back before pressing a careful kiss to her cheek. ‘You’ve downgraded from being my accountant to my sister’, he tells her, and she has to hide her teary laugh behind her hands. But her heart is full and she throws her arms around his neck until Atsumu clears his throat playfully and she pulls away to greet her family. 

‘Take care of her’, her father says, the threat in his and her brothers’ eyes amplified by their wedding gift to her of their sharpest knives. Atsumu meets their gaze evenly and laughs, unfazed. 

‘I will’, he says, and he kisses her with his promise still on his lips. 

[hellimagines]

Indebted to You -- Barry OBX

Masterlist

Summary: As JJ Maybank’s older sister it’s always been your top priority to protect your little brother. Even if that means easing your father’s temper by indebting yourself to Outerbanks’ top dealer.

Warnings: child abuse, frequent dr*g mention and dr*g dealing (of the non-oui’d variety), paying off someone else’s debt non-conventionally

Pairing: Barry x fem!Maybank!reader

Word Count: 2.4K

DISCLAIMER: Please, for the love of fuck, DO NOT do hard dr*gs just because you think they’re ‘cool’ or because you think dating a dealer is ‘cool’. Believe me when I tell you that neither of those things are cool, and that is NOT what I am trying to get across with this story; I don’t condone hard dr*g use.

A/N: This is something I pulled out of my ass because I wanted to write for Barry really bad, but I didn’t have any ideas. It has potential but I’m not sure if it’s gonna go anywhere. Also, Barry may be a little OOC since we don’t get much from his character. Anyway, I hope you guys like this and let me know what you think!

You released a slow, aggravated huff while staring down at your drunken father. He sat hunched over on the couch, with his elbows digging into his knees and his gaze trained on the coffee table before him. Behind you, your younger brother was curled into an armchair with a frozen bag of expired peas pressed against his left eye and a bloody tissue under his nose. You yourself had a welt already throbbing and beginning to swell on your cheekbone, but you ignored it in favor of kicking your dad’s limp foot. His head shot up, neck cracking with the unexpected speed, and narrowed his eyes at you dangerously.

“You had some nerve steppin’ in on something that wasn’t your business. What’ve I told you ‘bout stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong?” he snarled while attempting to stand, but was pathetically unsuccessful due to his inebriated state. All he managed to do was stumble and fall back down on the couch with a grunt. 

You rolled your eyes, “And what’ve I told you about mixing your whiskey and blow? I already have your grave dug outback, and the sooner you keep this shit going, the sooner I get to toss your ass inside it.” Luke scoffed at your words but didn’t offer a rebuttal as he flexed his bloody knuckles. “JJ didn’t touch the fucking money-- I’ve been keeping ahold of it so nothing goes missing before I head to Barry’s. You’d remember that if you weren’t fucking high or drunk all the time. JJ’s got his own job and is making his own money, he doesn’t need to jack your rolled bills for anything.” 

You pulled out a wad of recently-flattened bills, shaking the cash in front of your dad’s face. It was roughly $600 that you had made the past weekend while bouncing from Kook party to Kook party. Luke’s eyes widened at the sight of the money and he instinctively reached out to grab it from you. Your arm jerked back and you clutched the wad tightly before shoving it back into the pocket of your leather jacket. 

With a shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your brother a once over, nodding to yourself after assessing he wouldn’t be dropping dead anytime soon. “Why don’t you go to JB’s? I’ve got shit handled here and I heard the waves were supposed to be good before the sun sets.” 

“You sure? I can go with you-”

“Over my dead body. I got involved in this so you didn’t have to. Scram, before I change my mind and make you clean the kitchen.” JJ frowned but did as he was told, depositing the peas back in the freezer before making his way out the front door. You turned back to your dad, who was now laying on the couch with an arm thrown over his face. “I don’t have many more runs to do before we’re out of this shit-eating debt you caused with Barry. Keep your paws off the cash and we won’t have any problems, okay? You can’t fuck this up before I manage to fix it. Please, dad,” you whispered pleadingly and lowered yourself to the edge of the coffee table. 

Your dad peeked open an eye at you before laughing darkly. “You’re running the game, princess. The streets know you, but even worse, those rich Kooks know you and know what you have to offer. That won’t be forgotten, especially with how good you’ve been running that shit. You’re not gonna be getting out anytime soon, so what’s it matter if a couple twenties go missin’ or a gram gets cut on our table? Don’t piss Barry off and don’t get caught by the cops, and you’ll be set for life.” 

“No, I’m not like you,” you growled as your lip curled into a sneer. “I don’t wanna keep dealing and end up bitter and angry and alone, like you. Once I’m finished working off your debt, I’m done.” 

Luke shot up from the couch in the blink of an eye, towering over you while gripping your jaw tightly. You could feel his fingers painfully digging into your skin, pressing against your teeth, and making you wince. “Doesn’t matter what you fucking want. This isn’t your world, princess. Once people know who’s moving product in the streets, you’re stuck. So you may as well embrace the Maybank name and take what you can while you can. Now, be a good girl and go make daddy proud,” he hissed in your ear, before roughly letting go of your jaw by flinging your head to the side. You teetered off the edge of the table and fell to your side on the floor, but Luke didn’t spare you a second glance as he stepped over you and stumbled to his room. 

After pushing yourself to your feet and massaging your sore jaw, you shot a glare toward the direction of your father’s room. “Fuck you,” you spat quietly before leaving the house and slamming the door shut behind you.

By the time you made it to Barry’s trailer, the sun had set and the small grassy area Barry called his ‘backyard’ was lit up with lights, noises, and people. You made your way around the trailer, nodding to a few people you recognized before you found Barry lounging in a lawn chair with a beer in his hand. His smile was wide and dirty as he laughed with the people surrounding him, seemingly at ease with everyone. When he noticed you walking toward him out of the corner of his eye, his smile brightened and he shouted out for you.

“Ay, look who it is!” he yelled, waving an arm out toward you while the others cheered at your arrival. “I was just thinkin’ about you, sweetheart. C’mon, sit down with me. I left a chair open just for you,” Barry smiled, gesturing to the black lawn chair beside him with a Mikes waiting in the arm pocket. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but to snicker softly at him and take the offered chair. 

“What made you so certain I’d show up tonight?” you hummed teasingly while opening the spiked limeade that had been waiting for you. 

Barry grinned over the lid of his beer, his brown eyes watching you intently as you drank from your bottle. “Because I know you, sweetheart. Sunday nights are your drop-off nights.” Your cheeks warmed at his comment, but you played it off with a scoff and shake of your head. “I wanted to make sure you were more comfortable tonight, so I kept that chair open for ya and grabbed your favorite while on a liquor run.” 

A harsh scoff came from a chair on the other side of Barry, and you peeked around him to see who it came from. “Special privilege for his new fucktoy, what a surprise,” the voice muttered, and you recognized it as one of Barry’s frequent buyers, Sherry. You’d never had a conversation with the girl despite having gone to school with her in the past, and even though she was always at Barry’s get-togethers, she typically seemed more focused on her next fix rather than talking with anyone.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Barry snapped, turning to look at her with a clenched jaw. He seemed to purposefully be blocking her view of you, and you remained silent as the altercation unfolded.

“You know what it means,” she snapped back. “Whenever a new piece of trash starts selling for you, you put your dick in her and use her until another one shows up. But, you never bought them their favorite bitch-drink or saved them a seat, so what makes this one so much better, huh? Why does she get to sit in the big, nice chair next to you, but the rest of us have to have three-legged chairs and warm beers? What about her cunt makes her so much better?” Marie shouted, causing a couple of the others to whistle in disbelief. 

Before Barry could respond, one of the boys in the circle spoke up. “Maybe it’s cause she’s not a psychotic bitch who snorts the blow instead of selling it.”  You could hear Marie’s angry gasp at the diss, and when Barry gave her a pointed look rather than defending her, she flipped off the group before storming away. 

“Remind me why we let Sherry stick around all the time?” Someone questioned as you idly picked at the label on your bottle.

“Because this ain’t a fuckin’ gated community,” Barry scoffed as though it was obvious. The other chuckled in agreement before the conversation picked up and everyone went back to their own thing. You cleared your throat awkwardly once the attention was off of you, not knowing how to respond-- or if you were even supposed to. Barry gave a deep sigh, “Sorry about that, sweetheart. Don’t listen to anything she said, Sherry just hasn’t been doing great since she lost custody of her son. You’re not a fucktoy and I ain’t got no intention of using you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, she’s going through shit and I get it. I shouldn’t stay long anyway, Luke’s fucked off his ass and if I’m gone much longer he’ll flip,” you shrugged, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the cash as you spoke. “I made about $600 this weekend, and I know it’s not as much as it usually is, but someone had already hit up the beach and two of my usual places by the time I was able to start selling. So, I was stuck at Rafe’s party all of last night and only a handful of small pickups on Friday night.” You handed the wad over to Barry with an apologetic wince. “I still have some blow left over, so I’ll try and push a few eight-balls before the weekend. I’m sorry it’s not more.” Barry flicked through the cash quietly as you explained everything to him, before folding it into his pocket once it was all counted. He finished off his beer while looking you over, causing the nervous feeling in your stomach to grow. 

“Sweetheart,” he began with a shockingly gentle sigh, “You ain’t gotta apologize for any of that shit. You’re cleaning up your daddy’s debt because he’s too useless to do it himself, yet you’re not bitter or angry at everyone because of it. I’ve heard of the way you stick by new users throughout the night, making sure they’re using safely and doing okay. You still go to your day job and take care of your brother and his shithead-friends despite being up past dawn most days. You’re doing great, and I don’t ever wanna hear you apologize for thinking you’re not doing enough.” 

Your cheeks flamed and your eyes widened in shock as you spluttered helplessly at the man in front of you. “I wasn’t implying that I wasn’t doing enough! I just know how much my dad owes you, and $600 weekends are gonna take too long to pay it off.”

Barry raised an eyebrow at you before grabbing onto the arm of your chair and tugging you closer to him. You yelped at the sudden movement, bracing yourself for the inevitable collapse of you and your chair. Barry laughed loudly at you when you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the chair tightly, but there was no mirth or mock behind his laugh. Once the chair stopped moving and his laugh slowed to a chuckle, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Relax,” he chuckled, reaching out to move a strand of hair out of your face. “I wasn’t gonna let you fall, just wanted to talk to you better.”

“You could’ve just asked me to move closer,” you grumbled, casting your eyes to the side as your cheeks flushed. “And I told you I can’t stay long to chat.”

Barry gave you a nonchalant shrug, “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if your daddy’s got an issue with you keeping me company, I’ll just go and have a talk with him. I don’t want you worrying about him when you’ve got enough going on. Stay for a bit, sweetheart. I’ve got a whole cooler full of those Mikes, and you’re the only one I’m allowin’ to drink ‘em. If you really wanna go, I won’t stop you, but I want you to know that I don’t mind you stickin’ around me for a while.”

You bit your lip as you considered Barry’s offer, quietly looking out at the happy party-goers. It was calmer than any Kook party or Boneyard Blowout you had attended, and you had to admit that you loved the calm and welcoming atmosphere. Barry’s warm hand settled over your propped up knee, bringing your attention back to his hopeful eyes. 

“Okay, fine,” you caved and Barry squeezed your knee in delight. “But, you have to go get me a drink. Sherry was right, this chair is comfortable as fuck and I don’t wanna get up.” 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Barry teased and patted your knee before leaving to grab your drink. You stared after him with a bashful smile, unable to help yourself as the nervous feeling in your stomach evolved into flustered butterflies.

‘Shit,’ you groaned to yourself, ‘I’ve got a schoolgirl crush on this motherfucker. I’m so screwed.’

[oreoambitions]

Part 10 of ???

Parts 1-3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 5.5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Ao3 "There are only three things in this world that make money on any reasonable scale: sex, drugs, and violence. And you've gone and written violence out of the Luthor Corp equation." Lena purses her lips. Only Lilian could make L-Corp's turn away from military and weapons tech sound like the financial misstep of a fresh business graduate, and only Lena could somehow feel chastised in spite of all that she's accomplished. "L-Corp," she corrects, but Lilian either doesn't realize she's called the company by its old moniker or she doesn't care. In either case she brushes past Lena's words without acknowledgement. "The medical advancements you've made in the last few months are promising, but the simple fact of the matter is that saving lives won't save our bottom line. If you want to be National City's guardian angel, you're going to have to figure out how to pay for it. I don't think you have the stomach for drugs and it could be a risky gambit under Supergirl's nose. So it's sex.”

Lena swirls the bourbon in her glass absently, her eyes on anything but Lilian. "Somehow I don't think I'm stripper material," she comments, "but I'm sure I could find an online class, if you've really got your heart set on the idea." Of course that isn't want Lilian is talking about, but the dry quip falls from her lips almost without her say so. "Please," Lilian scoffs. "You're supposed to be a married woman now; you'll have to grow out of riding on the coat tails of your own sex appeal. I have something better in mind." Lena's hand stills. "Yes," she says, "Because all married women are demure and modest and never capitalize on their bodies for political or financial gain. I grew up in your house; I know how L-Corp's alliances were forged." Lilian's mouth forms a stiff line as she turns away to stand at the window, her own bourbon forgotten on Lena's desk. "It's different for you," she says. "The public breathing down your neck at every minute trying to catch you in a lie. I could almost pity you if you hadn't been the one to drag the Luthor name through the mud in the first place." "That was Lex," Lena mutters. She takes a quick swallow of the bourbon and prays the warmth of it will wash away her temper. "We were a respectable family. That comes with certain freedoms. And now this media stunt with Supergirl of all people-" Lena throws back the rest of her glass. "Not a media stunt, mother, but don't expect her for Christmas dinner; she's allergic to backstabbing and manipulation." "Then it's no wonder she's never seen with you."Lena puts her glass down with a distinct snap. She'd like another pour but too much bourbon is dangerous around Lilian and she's feeling that danger particularly acutely tonight. There can be a third glass, maybe even a fourth, when Lena is safe at home in her apartment. "Supergirl is away handling an urgent family matter," Lena says. It's a rehearsed explanation and she's sure Lilian sees right through it, but she depends on the easy oft repeated words to cover up the fact that her mother has struck too close to home. It's true that Kara hasn't been seen with her. It's true that Kara hasn't been seen anywhere for a month and a half. And it's true that it's Lena's fault. "And I suppose your upcoming court date doesn't qualify as an 'urgent family matter' in her eyes," Lilian sneers. She steps away from the window at last to retrieve her drink. "If you really did marry her, she's shaping up to be quite the negligent wife." Lena reaches for her wedding bracelet instead of the bourbon, rubs her thumb over it back and forth for a long moment feeling the weight of Kara's absence like a vice around her chest. Clark's words echo softly in the back of her mind. She loves you, you know. And of course she does. They're best friends, after all. This day and all days to follow. Isn't that what they swore to one another? So Kara will be there when it matters most, and Lena will be patient and steadfast while Kara is away. "She'll be here when I need her," Lena says aloud, as much to reassure herself as to put Lilian off. "But you didn't come here to lecture me about my marriage." "No," Lilian agrees, her eyebrows raised. "I came here to lecture you about sex. Specifically about William Dey." The name is familiar. Lena can't place it but she's heard it somewhere before in that vague way that she's heard the names of celebrities and political figures thrown about in conversation such that everyone is expected to already know them and so no context is ever provided. Lilian, blessedly, does not wait for an answer. "He'll be accompanying you to the gala, since your so-called spouse remains unavailable. I'll need-" "Supergirl will be there," Lena says, the words more forceful than they might have been if she were actually sure. "She'll want the press to see us together." "For your sake I wish that were true. I'll need access to your schedule so that we can arrange a get-together in advance, let the two of you find your rhythm. We'll want to coordinate your outfits, of course, but subtly. We can't sell him if he's wrapped around your finger; it's important that he seem desirable but not spoken for, you understand? I don't want you to tarnish his reputation." "Be seen with him but don't let him be seen with me, and appear to desire him but not so much that the public questions the validity of my marriage. Got it. Any other impossible demands?" "Yes: you could try speaking to me with a little respect while I try to put your name and your family back together in the wake of your foolishness and the absence of your restraint." Lena looks away. Supergirl will be at the gala. She'll be there and it won't matter what Lilian wants because everything will be okay. Six weeks of silence pound in Lena's head and she can't summon Clark's words or Sam's reassurances. All she can hear is Lilian. Your supposed spouse. Quite the negligent wife. "I'll have Jess get in touch to set up the meeting," Lena says. Her fingers fall from her wedding bracelet. "What is it we're using him to sell?" "Nothing yet," Lilian says. She pours herself another glass of bourbon and perches on the edge of Lena's desk. Lena considers a quip about respect but finds she doesn't have it in her. "If the gala goes well, we'll announce a line of William Dey smart watches by the end of the year." "We manufacture vanity accessories now? Shall we also put out a line of William Dey sneakers?" Maybe she does have a quip or two left in her after all. "The neural lace you're developing downstairs will never move on the market. The public struggles with the concept of vaccination; they'll never trust an implant, and especially not from you. But from a beloved Country star, an attractive young man with all the right press? Perhaps. If they're led to it." "You want to use sex to sell medicine." Lilian raises her glass as if in a toast. "Medicine and smart watches. But Lena? All the money in the world can't buy back your reputation. Do be careful." "I'll win the perjury case," Lena says. "The paperwork is in order. Argo is sending a representative to act as a witness." "There is the court," Lilian replies and then there is the court of public opinion. "Lena finally takes her place at the window, gazing out across the city as Lilian throws back another finger of bourbon and sees herself out. Unspoken words linger heavy in the room. "Where are you?" Lena whispers. She puts a hand to the glass and then, feeling foolish, snatches it back. Too much bourbon, or not enough. Kara will be here when it matters. She will. She made promises, said vows. She'll be there. And Lena has nothing to fear.