#she’s checking them over for potential stitches

[2d-beefcakes-my-beloveds]

Tim: “The birds work for the bourgeois”

Marina: “Timmy, you’re a bird. You are the bourgeois”

Tim: D:

Dick: “omg all of the bats are the bourgeois we’ve been had D:”

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??” 

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide. 

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.” 

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??” 

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.” 

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.” 

“I’ll go.” 

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable. 

Raven. 

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something. 

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room. 

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.” 

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone. 

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse. 

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight. 

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”  

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.” 

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain. 

What the fuck does that even mean? 

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off. 

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?” 

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment. 

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ” 

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”  

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.  

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him. 

“Where’d everybody go?” 

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”  

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed. 

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?” 

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.  

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.” 

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep. 

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped. 

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.” 

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside. 

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments. 

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in. 

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her. 

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming. 

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word. 

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…” 

“You… you came?” 

“I heard you needed a date?” 

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could. 

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“ 

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent. 

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away. 

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…” 

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted. 

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.” 

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him. 

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?” 

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled. 

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly. 

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob. 

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air. 

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath. 

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.  

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.  

“We need 10 minutes.” 

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away. 

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.” 

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him. 

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants. 

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head. 

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off. 

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right? 

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head. 

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in. 

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.  

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.” 

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time. 

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again. 

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it. 

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.” 

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself. 

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter. 

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone. 

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior. 

“You always got jokes.” 

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave.  Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres  before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be. 

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.  

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her. 

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.” 

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting. 

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. . 

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?” 

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”  

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.” 

“That’s a given, baby girl.” 

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms. 

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket. 

“Nope.” 

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him. 

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.” 

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing? 

“Michael… You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?” 

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.” 

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?” 

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?” 

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it. 

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.” 

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.” 

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs. 

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat. 

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be. 

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.” 

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly. 

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears. 

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready. 

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show. 

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything. 

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it. 

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this. 

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.” 

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.” 

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be. 

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her. 

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd. 

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.” 

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.” 

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care. 

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there. 

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing. 

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career. 

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.  

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad. 

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest. 

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.” 

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.” 

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me??” 

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.  

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”  

“I’m good.” 

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes. 

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved. 

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change. 

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.” 

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.” 

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.” 

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.” 

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day. 

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again. 

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.” 

“What if I like watching you sleep??” 

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too. 

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could. 

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.” 

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?” 

“So you got wasted? To forget?” 

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.” 

“How often?” 

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”  

“And now? How do you feel?” 

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.” 

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please. 

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him. 

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level. 

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. 

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.” 

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.” 

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”  

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.  

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.” 

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start? 

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone. 

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet. 

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.” 

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.” 

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way. 

“You trust me, baby?” 

“With my life,” she answered truthfully. 

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold. 

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.” 

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was? 

His poor sheets, she mused. 

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her. 

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most. 

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized. 

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did. 

Bliss. 

Ecstasy. 

Fucking nirvana. 

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured. 

He did not let up or come up for air as  his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded. 

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust. 

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest. 

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure. 

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs. 

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away. 

He immediately stilled. 

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?” 

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded. 

“Words, baby.” 

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure. 

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her. 

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life. 

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders. 

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it. 

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human? 

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion. 

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close. 

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough. 

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him. 

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress. 

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted. 

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up. 

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his. 

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together. 

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned. 

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.” 

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.” 

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.” 

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.” 

“Very mischievous but effective.” 

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered. 

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.” 

“Deal.” 

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again. 

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again. 

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[wwereaderinserts]

do you do cody rhodes..? If so can i ask for some fluff from him where the reader injures her head during a fight (busts it open and needs like 2 or 3 stitches)

Title: Gimme Stitches Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Reader Word Count: 866

Your heart is hammering in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through you while you wait for your opponent, Tiffany, to scramble back up to her feet outside the ring. You prance on the spot, taunting her while you amp yourself up to spear her into the steel steps, waiting for the perfect timing to ensure you can deliver a pivotal blow to her in your match so far.

Tiffany rises up to her feet with her back to you, blissfully unaware of exactly what’s about to hit her. Once she finds her bearings, she turns on her heel in your general direction, and that’s when you seize the opportunity to charge directly at her with a guttural yell.

You lock in on her as you run full speed, closing in on her rapidly, but just as you’re about to reach her, she’s situationally aware enough to sidestep you and avoid your spear. Your feet carry you too fast for you to stop yourself in time, and you carry on running until you lose your footing slightly and crash into the steps.

The crowd reacts with a resounding ooh! at the impact - as do you from how hard your head connected with the corner of the steps - but it isn’t until you feel a trickling down your forehead that you realise you’ve done slightly more than simply take a bump.

“Ah! Shit!”

You express your pain as you attempt to rise back up to your feet, and when you catch the look of sheer horror on Tiffany’s face when she sees you’re busted completely wide open, along with the referee rushing out to check on you, reality begins to set in.

Despite insisting that you’re fine and that you want to continue the match, the referee makes the executive decision to stop the match. Not that you blame them in the slightest - you currently have a nasty gash on your forehead that’s bleeding like there’s no tomorrow, and for all you know, you could’ve easily given yourself a concussion.

With the adrenaline finally beginning to subside, your head throbs and you can taste the lingering copper on your lips as you amble your way back up the ramp to the applause of onlooking fans either side of you.

You’re inwardly kicking yourself right now, frustrated that you’ve potentially just put yourself on the shelf for a good few weeks depending on the verdict from medical, but you also understand that this is the risk you take every time you step foot in the ring. But you cast your frustration to one side as soon as you’re met with a friendly, very familiar face.

“Oh my god, I saw that out there! Are you okay?”

Cody is already waiting for you, damp towel in hand and at the ready as soon as you make it backstage with concern written all over his face while he stops himself from reaching out to you. You give him a weak thumbs up in response, seemingly downplaying things, but Cody is having none of it.

“Just a scratch, I’ll be fine-”

You begin, but Cody shakes his head and takes a step closer to you. The towel is clenched up into a ball in his hand, and he uses this to lightly wipe away any residual blood that remains on your face while he takes extra care to avoid the nasty gash on your forehead.

“No, none of that.” Cody’s tone is soft, but you can tell he’s lightly scolding you, “Don’t try acting like this is nothing. The match was stopped, and this looks really bad. You’re gonna need stitches, definitely.”

His eyes meet yours, and you feel a warmth spread in your chest at the tenderness of both his gaze and the way he cleans you up. You know he’s right, and worried about you to boot.

“I watched it all happen from back here. You had me worried, y’know?”

Cody continues, and even though he’s trailed off with a rhetorical question, he still seeks some form of acknowledgement from you. You hum and give him a brief nod, reaching out to take the hand of his which isn’t holding the towel in yours.

“I can only imagine,” you crack a smile for him and give his hand a brief squeeze, “But you know me, I’m made of tough stuff.”

You press a soft kiss against Cody’s knuckles, and the tension leaves him, if only for a fleeting moment. He returns the gesture before you release your hold on his hand, and it returns to its rightful place to cup your face.

“As much as I can clean you up for the time being, you’re still bleeding. We’d better get you over to medical.” he tells you with a nod of his head towards the nearest doorway, retracting both his hand and the towel from you, “But I am glad it didn’t end up being worse than this.”

You nod in agreement and take his hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze to which Cody is quick to reciprocate before he leads the way to medical with you in tow, fully intending on staying with you the entire time.

[hypertic]

I’ve seen a lot of AUs of spiderman/vigilante Ava but the potential vigilante Beatrice has is >>>

like it all begins when Ava, who’s working in a biomed lab late at night, finds Beatrice in the storage room stuffing her bag with medical supplies paying no mind to her bleeding leg (about to leave her entire DNA evidence in a lab) and clearly Ava is shocked.

too shocked to react when Beatrice tackles her and covers her mouth, spreading all her blood on the floor and dropping her bag. the thing is Beatrice is shocked too, so she just stares, at the pretty scientist who’s breathing against her palm.

“This is the part where you say something along the lines of its not what it looks like.” Ava speaks when Beatrice takes her hand off.

“It’s exactly what it looks like though.” her accent is off, ava thinks, not American.

“Breaking and entering, robbery and assault?”

“This is not assault!” Beatrice almost seems offended by it, but loosens her grip around Ava’s shoulder, pinning her down.

“So you admit to breaking and entering?” Ava’s smile is so smug, as if she’s not the one being held down by a criminal. Beatrice doesn’t answer, contemplating her choices. “I don’t care, honestly.”

“What?”

“It’s not my company, not my responsibility, I’m just here doing overtime checking on bacterial growth every 2 hours.” Ava shrugs, and Beatrice believes her.

She wants to believe her. She seems very honest and she doesn’t want to restrain her or anything. She’s also lost some blood and is a little lightheaded.

So Beatrice slumps back, finally releasing ava, who notices the (medium sized) pool of blood underneath the mysterious, masked woman.

“Need help with that?” Ava is teasing but genuine, and Beatrice wonders why she didn’t run out the door. Then she wonders why she didn’t close the door, at least.

Ava scoots closer, her hands hovering over the supplies scattered around the floor.

“So what are you, exactly?” Ava asks, opening a pack of gauze. “Like Spider-Man? With powers and all?”

“No powers.” At this point, Beatrice has decided Ava is not threat.

“But do you fight crime and stuff? I can see your cool stick back there.”

“What makes you think I’m not the crime?” She’s not threatening she’s curious and dumbfounded because who in their right mind would catch a masked person stealing, patch them up and ask if they’re a hero?

“You don’t give evil vibes.” Ava shrugs. “And there’s rumors you know? About a masked figure going around, known criminals showing up cuffed to a lamp post.”Beatrice cheeks blush slightly under the mask and shakes her head.

“So like, a vigilante?” Beatrice doesn’t answer, eventually giving a small nod, her eyes following Ava’s moved closely, who’s finally cleaned the wound. “But no powers?”

“No powers.”

“That’s… dangerous.” Ava’s brows furrow in a mix of concern and awe.

Beatrice doesn’t know what to say, and she’s beginning to realize that only happens around this woman.

“It might need some of those butterfly stitches.” Ava declared, pressing (hard) on the cut right above her leg before tying the bandage around it.

“Thank you.” Beatrice says.

“It’s alright. I’m Ava, by the way.”

“Im Be-.”

“Alright, B, let me pack this up for you and clean up.”

“Are you kidding?” Ava is not kidding, for she starts to wipe the blood off the floor with some alcohol wipes and stuffs the bag with even more supplies, all while Beatrice stares.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Ava shrugs for the hundredth time, but Beatrice can’t seem to find it annoying (yet).

“Nope, because this was a robbery, and I am a victim.” Ava takes a hand to her chest dramatically. “Go on, I won’t look. But you need to be quick because I’m calling the cops now.” Ava takes out her phone and stares at Beatrice expectantly.

Beatrice just stares back, before grabbing the bag and jumping to her feet, heading for the door and taking one last look back. Ava’s smile is the last she sees of her before sprinting away into the dark.

[seattledayone]

dina and caretaking

i think there’s a lot to be said for the situations we see dina in throughout tlou2 and how they tie into her backstory, as well as any potential guilt she may be carrying with her.

the first time we see her, she’s supervising a group of children. even though she’s not necessarily taking care of them, she’s still taken it upon herself to ensure their happiness and safety, and it seems like something she does often considering how ellie and jesse know exactly where to find her.

every time after that, she’s taking care of ellie (or, later on, jesse). she’s not a pushover by any means, but she allows ellie to take charge and is always there when the other woman comes back to her with cuts and bruises and bucketloads of trauma to sport. even when she starts to suspect she’s pregnant, she doesn’t say anything in favor of letting ellie finish her mission and keeping her the focus of the trip. when ellie returns from killing nora, broken and beaten, dina doesn’t berate her; she immediately takes to getting her comfortable and as patched up as she can.

when jesse arrives, the first thing dina does is help him take care of his wounds, and she makes sure to check in on ellie and stitch her up too. at the farmhouse, she literally says “you think this is easy? for you and for him, i deal with it,” implying that she sets her grief aside in order to take care of the two most important people in her life.

in my opinion, this all ties back to talia.

talia used to be the one to take care of her, alongside their parents back when they moved from place to place. however, once talia fell into grief-stricken depression, it was dina’s “duty” to lead them to a safe place and keep talia alive.

and she failed.

talia still died. she still succumbed to the world around her, though we don’t know how. no matter what dina did, no matter how much or how little she let herself feel, she couldn’t keep her sister alive.

i think she sees a lot of talia in ellie, particularly at the farmhouse. in her eyes, she may have failed with jesse and failed with talia and failed, even, with herself, but she has an opportunity to right those “wrongs.” she has an opportunity to save ellie. maybe she thinks that the reason talia died is because she pushed her too hard to keep going despite her grief, and that’s why she’s so overly lenient with ellie for the longest time.

until she isn’t.

again, this is all just my opinion, but i think that when dina says “im not gonna do this again,” she is not only referencing waiting in anxious anticipation for ellie to return but also finally admitting to herself that she can’t save everyone. she can’t be waiting with open arms for the sick and dying and traumatized to be patched up and coddled until they run off and do something reckless again. she cannot be the healer. finally, she understands that it isn’t her shortcomings that bring about the deaths of those she loves.

even if she doesn’t understand that quite yet, she now has a baby. she can’t afford to put herself or him in a situation like that — or around people like that, purely out of protectiveness over her son and his view of the world.

she’s letting herself and her peace and safety come first, something that, up until now, we haven’t ever seen her do.

[mistyresolve]

| Incident Report - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Pilot Reader

Word Count - 4.5K

Summary - The reader is the pilot of an apache helicopter, one the most dangerous, advanced killer in the sky. She’s been the 141′s go-to when they need aerial support for a year. Each time she is called to a mission with them she immediately thinks of one person, Ghost. And she’s not the only one finding it hard to focus on the mission when working with the other. So when she devises a plan to finally get what they both desperately need, Ghost happily obliges her.  

Warnings/Tags - 18+ ONLY,  swearing, SoftDom, slight switch, praise, fingering, pussy licking? unprotected sex, creampie 

A/N - not to be nerdy but the apache helicopter to hella fuckin cool

Masterlist  ❤︎  RTB (Part two)

The first time you joined Task Force 141 on a mission was a year ago, having been asked to be their aerial support. Unlike the regular formal introduction that happened where you would meet your new team and mission in a conference room, you had been introduced on the tarmac. You were just doing the final safety checks with the engineer when the 141 arrived. 

You thanked your engineer before leaving to meet them. The only one you knew from previous collaborations was Captain Price. And it was Price who introduced you to everyone else. You tucked your helmet under your arm, catching it on the curve of your hip so you could have a free hand to shake with. 

“Nice to see you again, Stitch,” He dipped his chin at you, before sweeping a hand at the pack of men behind him. 

“Always a pleasure,” you gave him an easy smile. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, this is the 141,” he pointed to the first individual, “Soap”, his grasp was firm and as you shook his hand, and gave each other a curt nod. Then Price moved the next, “Gaz,” you did the same with him, he offered you a sweet smile and you couldn’t help a matching one from growing on your own face. The last soldier was more stoic than the rest, harder to read, “and Ghost. This isn’t everyone but it’s who will be on today's mission.” 

When you met Ghost eyes you knew immediately he was dangerous. Extremely dangerous. You were thankful he was on your side. Thankful that you’d never have to come toe to toe with him. You took note of the fact that his eyes lingered on you too. Dark eyes roamed over you. Not in a heated lewd sense, but like a calculating predator. He was taking note of weaknesses and blind spots already. You wanted to wave a little white flag at him, marking yourself as an ally. 

Just then your co-flyer, having previously focused on the manifests, joined in on the pleasantries. 

“This is Dutch,” you knocked your shoulder against his, “The best gunner and partner a pilot could ask for.”   

“How long have you guys been flying?” Gaz inquired, cocking his head to the side. 

“Three years with this girl,” you threw a thumb over your shoulder to the aircraft behind you. It was an apache helicopter, one of the most advanced technologies all packed behind the painted green casing. The most exciting piece of equipment is the integrated helmet display, allowing either the pilot or gunner to slave the live footage of the chain gun to the helmet. It tracked an individual's head movement to provide an even more accurate aim. 

The apache was one of the most dangerous helicopters in the sky and you got to pilot it. You almost cried when you got your placement after flight school. You did cry after your first flight. 

Gaz let out a low whistle, “Is she treating you well?” 

You nod, “As long as I give her proper aftercare.” 

That first mission went smoothly, really smoothly. 

The Apache was built on the premise of being agile and lethal, and with you and Dutch inside the cockpit, the aircraft was able to reach its full potential. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t show off for them just a little. Show them who you acquired your callsign, Stitch. Bobbing and weaving around bullets and missiles. Threading between the terrain. Dutch provided firepower with unmatched aim. Dutch hammered the enemy with chain gun rounds, rockets, and HELLFIRE missiles. You’d also be lying if you said the elated cheering of the 141 over the radio didn’t boost your ego. 

You had provided them with as much support as you could be having to RTB for fuel. 

Every mission was no different from the first. All of them a success. And you couldn’t help the exciting you that hopped around in your chest every time you got assigned to the 141. 

One of the reasons was that you had grown a certain affinity for one of the members.  

Today’s mission was a little different. It started off with you being called to one of the conference rooms with Dutch right at your side. When you entered the room and found out who you were meeting, you grinned.

“Hello, boys,”  you immediately started searching the room for one person in particular, finding him seated at one of the tables. He had one arm resting on the table in front of him, and his head resting on his other fist. His eyes were already on you, slowly racking down your body. The heat behind his eyes made you feel good, made you want to ravish him right then and there. 

The tension was there from the very beginning, and it only grew every time you saw him next. You could feel it swell and surge between you guys, and you were damn sure he could too. Neither of you had acted on it though. Mostly because of the conflict of interest. Partly because the chase was fun.  

His gaze met yours, heavy-lidded with filthy vehemence.  

Some flighty and skittish part of you taking the reins and you had to look somewhere else. Anywhere else. You landed on the table he was sitting at, littered with maps, pictures, and documents. You slapped down on that piece of yourself, cursing at it. He made you nervous and loathed him for it. No man has ever made you nervous.  

“What’s on the itinerary for today?” your voice came out a little higher than it usually did. You shifted a document over to get a better look at the map. Price ran through the plan, briefing you and Dutch on your roles.   

The flight started off as expected, being called into action when the 141 had difficulties shaking the enemy and were in a vehicle chase. Their ammo was running low and one of them was shot. The wound wasn’t mortal but apparently, he was hurtin’.  

They were speeding down a desolate street of a deserted city when you reached them. You maneuvered your heli to hover behind a highrise, waiting until the enemy forces sped around the corner at the end of the street. When finally they did you rolled over into the middle of the street, hovering high in the air. Dutch fired away, taking out the forefront. 

“Fuck yeah!” Soap yelled into the radio, and you could see him shoot a fist out the window of one of their trucks.  

You shifted, barreling forward, adding pressure. This allowed Dutch to make a run with the chain gun as you flew overhead. You didn’t like the position but the highrise buildings on either side of the streets gave you no choice. 

“Let me know when you guys see smoke!” you had to yell over the sound of Dutch’s bombardment and strafe. You dipped between two buildings and met the reflection of the apache in the windows. You gave Dutch a quick salute in said reflection to which he returned with his own, before repositioning to enter the battle further back. More space meant more time for reaction. You would support them for as long as you could, they just needed to get out of the intended location or when they lose the tail. Or when you get rid of them. 

“Smoke!” Ghost shouted, warning us of the heat-seeking missile. 

“Flares!” you counter. Inverting the aircraft you released flares. The maneuver was the only way to get them out and in front of you in time to counter the MPADS missiles. You swore, “That was too fucking close.” 

Even Dutch seemed a little uneasy about it. You rightened yourselves, wanting to gain distance and height. 

“Switching to helmet display,” you announced, joining Dutch in the shooting. The 141 raced underneath you, and you applied as much cover as you could manage before needing to refocus on piloting. Four blocks away were reinforcements for them. You could manage it, Dutch could manage it. 

“RPG!” 

You merely had to dodge these ones, leaning left then right as they blew past you. 

Three blocks. 

Two blocks. 

Dutch signalled to you that he was out of HELLFIRE, and Missiles, “I got 50 rounds left in the chain gun,” he remarked, his voice calm and collected. One of the reasons you loved him as your gunman.     

“We’re RTB, we’ve given you guys all we could,” I hailed down to the ground, pulling away. 

“Thanks once again, CADAVER,” Price replied, calling you guys by your aircraft callsign, “See you two back home.” 

“We’ll have dinner ready and on the table for you guys,” you said, already heading back.

“Sunday roast?” Soap joined in.

“It’s Thursday, Mate,” Ghost answered for us dryly. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiar exchange.  

They were back on base an hour after you guys, and we met up for a quick and dirty debrief before being let off for dinner. You had purposefully chosen the seat beside Ghost during the debrief. He had also purposefully knocked his knee against yours underneath the table. The fleeting and seemingly innocent touch made you throw your other leg over the other and squeeze your thighs together. 

Like always you dreaded the inevitable paperwork that you had to complete and hand in tomorrow. You had just finished it when an idea formed in your wicked thoughts. 

With your action report in hand, you knocked on his door, plastering an innocent look on your face before opening the door. An expression of pleased confusion passed through his dark eyes, darker still when they dilated at the sight of you. He was still in his gear, only he was missing his weapons. You had strategically worn easy-to-remove clothes. An oversized sweater you’d stolen from the locker room(and nothing underneath you might add), and plain black leggings.   

You waved the piece of paper in front of him, “I thought it would be a good idea to compare notes.” 

You catch the ghost of a smile in his eyes, and he scanned the hallway before stepping aside to let you in, “Brilliant idea,” he shut the door behind him. 

It was your first in his barracks, and if you hadn’t known any better you would have assumed the room was vacant. Apart from the paper and folders on the desk, the rest of the observable room was pristine. 

Before answering the door he was probably working on the same report as you were. His writing was neat and tidy, a mixture between print and cursive. You examine the papers with a hum. He stayed a step back, he wanted to let you make the invitation before closing in. 

“I hope you’re not gossiping about me in here,” you jest as you drag a finger down the page. 

“Never,” he said, his voice low and serious, “I only ever say the most wonderful things about you.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head, your loose hair falling over your shoulder, “Like what?” You dared a glance back at him, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. There was the invitation he was looking for. 

“How the team always feels safest when we have the infamous CADAVER watching over us. How professional and talented you are,” the emphasis he put on “professional”, wasn’t mocking, but a challenge. A disguised question. 

Are you sure? 

You bit down on your lip, “Mhm.”

He took a step closer, reaching to take your report from your hand and placing it on the desk in front of you. His other hand comes to plant itself on the wood beside your hip. You could smell him, like smoke and rain. 

“How I’m finding it harder and harder to work alongside you,” you could feel his chest against your back. The bulletproof vest getting in the way of feeling the muscle and heat you knew to lay just beneath. 

“Because all I think about is how good I could make you feel,” he reached his free hand around your hips, pulling you back into him, his fingers digging into the flesh. Your breath caught and you placed one hand on the desk for support, your other one reaching for his around your waist. Your fingers disappeared under his sleeve to wrap around his wrist. You don’t know why but there was a fleeting shock when you met warm skin. Maybe you were half expecting him to be an actual ghost, with cold lifeless skin.  

“The sounds you’d make for me,” oh, he was arrogant, but it didn’t bother you one bit. No, his confidence and conviction made you hot, and your breaths came out in bursts. He drew you closer so you could feel his own response to the proximity, “How you’d crawl back to me and beg for more.” 

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head and you leaned your head against his shoulder, “Ohmygod,” it came out more slurred than you had anticipated. You reached up to his masked face, tugging at it slightly, “Kiss me please, Ghost.”

“Go on,” he instructed.

“Tell me when,” you breathed as you twisted to pull up the mask, stopping at the bridge of his nose when he said. He let you take him in, the strong curve of his jaw, his full lips, and the…light spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks. You traced his jaw, fingers dancing across his skin.  Lingering on the light scar above his lip. 

“You’re beautiful,” it was barely a whisper, barely audible. But it was enough for him. His hand shot from the desk, wrapping around your jaw before crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was erratic and deprived. After a year of circling each other and building up the frustration and tension, it felt like this was it was your time kissing anyone. The sensation of his mouth on yours made you burn. His tongue swept the line of yours, to which you wantonly open for him. He delved in, tongue running along the roof of your mouth, your tongue. The action made you well aware of the fact that if he got between your legs he’d make you scream with pleasure. You moaned, and he caught the sound, sucking your lip, and teeth biting down. He trailed wet, openmouthed kisses across your cheek, down your jaw, and sucked bruises into the supple skin of your neck. You whimpered, and it must have been a little too loud because a hand came to cover your mouth. 

“Unless you want to fill out an incident report tonight too, I suggest you use your inside voice,” he brought his mouth to your ear, his own pants fanning across your skin. You tugged at his vest, asking him to remove it. He removed his hand, “Say pretty please.” 

“Please, Ghost,” you tugged again, “I need to feel you,” Lord knows you’ve already waited long enough.  

He removed himself from you to unsnap it from his body with trained military ease, next was the black canvas jacket. The fabric of the black dry fit underneath was pulled tighter across his shoulders and chest. You were going to eat him alive. You were going to let him ruin you. You turned to face him fully and you hardly got the chance to reach out to him before he was over you again. His hands drove into your hair, around the back of your neck. Your hands ran across his chest, feeling hard muscle, the heat of him searing your palms. You travelled lower, untucking the shirt from his pants to gain access to his skin. Nails dug into his abdomen, leaving behind red lines. He hissed at the delicious pain.

Before you could register it, he was lifting you onto the desk and standing between your legs. He tugged you until you were flush with him, his hands securing you to him. You could feel his hard cock through the pants as it pressed into your stomach. You were in trouble. He was going to rip you apart. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t put it in until I have you nice and ready,” he must have felt you tense at the realization. You met his gaze, then started to roll your hips against him. His eyes widened before he slammed them shut and faced the ceiling. He didn’t let you get any further though. His hand shot to your chest, pushing you back until you were laying on your back. His nimble finger pushes your sweater up and pulls your pants down to your ankles. 

“Jesus fuck,” he croaked when he was met with your bare cunt. He pushed either leg to the side so he could have an interrupted view. His fingers grazed over you, and you jerked your hips up trying to meet his touch. 

“Don’t tease me,” you mewl at him, half tempted to relieve the ache yourself. 

All he could do was shake his head, eyes fixated on your arousal as it dripped down onto his desk. This time his fingers slide into your folds, coming to a halt at your clit. He made slow circles with his thumb. You gasped and had to bring the sleeve of your sweater to your mouth to bite so that you didn’t get too loud. He moved down and slid in two fingers, his brows furrowing in bliss as you greedily took him in. Your breasts tighten and you reach under your sweater to cup one and squeeze. His attention flicked to the activity and shoved the sweater higher so he could watch. The cold air was jarring, and your nipples hardened from both the temperature and arousal. 

Then he pulled his fingers back a couple of inches before slowly guiding them back in. He switched between watching your face morph with ecstasy and your pussy, enthralled with both but not sure which one to choose. He found a slow, teasing pace. One that was going to drive you to tears if he kept it up. 

“Faster,” you choked, trying to grind yourself on his hand but he stopped you with a stern grip on your hip. Yet he did as you asked, picking up speed and angling his hand so he could reach just a little deeper, and curving his fingers inside you. You couldn’t contain the moans anymore, and he seemed to have forgotten about the need to stay quiet. You started to shake as you neared your climax. You caught his expression, his lips parted and eyes glassy, you didn’t think he’d remember his name if you called to him. Your cunt tightened just as you started to cum. 

He removed his fingers.  

And dropped to his knees. 

He looked up at you, his pupils were completely blown, and placed your thighs on either shoulder and brought his mouth to you. You sobbed, frustrated with the stolen orgasm and the new stimulation. You placed your hands on the back of his head and pushed him further in. His tongue was way better than his fingers, and when he dragged it up the length of your length you thanked him. He sucked and licked and tasted you. The filthy wet sounds as he ate you out filled the room. You were so sure that if someone pressed their ear to his door they’d be able to hear it too. 

This time when you neared your orgasm you held him there, making sure he wasn’t going to pull away again. He groaned into you, and it was at just the right moment that the vibrations of it sent you spiralling. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you pant, tears pricking at your eyes. Your body went taut before it loosened. He stayed to lap you up. Placing chaste kissing on your clit. When he rose, he only wiped at the bottom of his chin to get rid of the cum dripping there so he could lick the rest of it from his lips. He leaned down to kiss you, allowing you a taste for yourself. 

You were going to ignite, and the only thing keeping you from doing so was digging your nails into his back. 

“Do you want more?” He asked, giving you an out should you have changed your mind. The thought of him going unrelieved after what he just did to you was absurd. You wanted him again and again and again. 

“I want all of you.”

He pulled away only to remove his shirt and undo his pants. His cock was hard, and you could see it pulse. He wrapped a hand around the middle, his thumb gliding over the head. 

“I’m on the pill. And Im clean,” you babbled. You wanted to feel him, without any barriers. 

“Are you sure?” he eyed you, “I have-”

“Yes.”

He didn’t waste any more time. He tapped the head of his cock against you, sliding his length into your folds, collecting the slick there. He rocked back and forth, holding himself against you with a thumb, “Shit.”  

“Fuck me. As hard as you need to,” he said before picking you up and sitting back into the chair behind him with you straddling his lap. He rested his hands on either hip; not to control or take charge but just because he wanted to touch you. Feel you in his arms. 

You swallowed as you guided him in, pausing at the head to adjust. Relax. If he hadn’t taken the time to warm you up, you would have shot right off him. The slight burn and stretch as you sank down onto him forced a cross between a squeak and a moan. You wished you could have captured his reaction on tape. His breath quivered, and he leaned his forehead on your shoulder. The both of you had thin coats of sweat on your hot, sensitive skin. Everywhere he touched you it felt like he brought with him flashes of lightning. 

“Just like that,” he grounded, tilting to the side to get a better look at where you connected. When you made the first rise and plunged back onto him, he nearly whimpered. You pulled back slightly, gauging his appearance before continuing. 

“I’m good,” he half laughed before tilting his head back and exposing his throat to you, “You’re just bloody tight.” 

“Well, you’re big,” you retorted, lifting yourself up and back down. 

“Mmm,” he shot you a conceited smile. 

So, he liked the occasional praise.   

You braced your arms on his shoulders, fingers dipping under his mask so you could grip at his hair underneath. You dragged a tongue up the column of this throat, the salt taste of sweat, and nipped at his jaw, “And so fucking hard.” 

His hips jerked up, meeting you on your descent. Hard. Lightening shot up your spin, and stars blocked your vision. Your pace picked up, chasing that pleasure. Riding him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You racked your nails down the front of his chest, catching on his dog tags. Little red lines appeared. The desire to carve your name into his chest surfaced. You settled for your initials. 

He hissed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. His cock twitched inside of you, “Atta girl, mark me as yours.”

You rocked your hips against him, the muscles of his stomach providing extra stimulation against your clit. It left a trail of slickness and you would make damn sure licked him clean after. 

His groans turned into hot desperate whimpers, and his grip forced himself up and impossibly deeper. You squeezed around him.

“Good-” he choked, pulling you in to rest his forehead on yours, “Cum for me, baby.”

You did as you were told, your body convulsing and shuddering. You could feel it drip out of and onto him. 

He followed, fast and hard. You could feel him pulsating as his seed painted your walls white. It was hot and… a lot. He was leaking out of you and he was still inside you. 

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Catching your breath. Collecting your mind. 

“You think,” you paused, “you think they heard?” you asked, his team wasn’t far. They were either in their own room or congregated in the common area. Which was just down the hall. 

He pulled back, eyes searching your face, “Umm, yeah. You’re loud.” 

You faked an insulted gasp, “You’re loud.”

“No’m not,” he was. He wasn’t the silent type. You liked that. Liked it when your partners were vocal. 

“Liar,” you lifted yourself off him, cum dripping out as you did so. 

His chest seemed to puff out at the slight, pleased with his work. 

“You think they’ll see me?” you tightened your pussy, to keep it from leaking onto his floor. You pointed to the clothes he’d tossed onto his bed and he tossed you your shirt and pants. 

“They won’t say anything. There’s a shower in the bathroom,” he offered, you were just going to go back to your room and shower there, but it was a little risky. If the room smelt like sex, you did too. He followed you into the bathroom, flicking on the light, “Next time bring panties so you can walk around with my cum inside you,” he murmured as he watched. He pulled his mask back down over his face. At some point, he had pulled on some sweatpants. 

“You’re dirty,” you said playfully, locking eyes with him in the reflection. 

“Or better yet, we can fuck in your room so you won’t have to sneak back out.”

“You want to do the sneaking next time?” you tilted your head back to look up at him.

His eyes narrowed, “I’m really good at the sneaking.”

Because of his mask he wasn’t able to join in on the shower. But he did bend you over his backroom sink, holding your hands behind your back with one hand, and the other hand wrapped around your neck so he could make sure you watched as he fucked you from behind in the mirror. 

It was an hour before curfew when you finally slipped out of his room. He almost didn’t let you, tried pulling you back in. When you stepped into the common rooms, Gaz, and Soap pretended to be really interested in the walls, carpet, and couch. Price was nowhere to be seen. 

“The captain left a couple hours ago,” Gaz didn’t even look in your direction. 

He left a couple hours ago because that's when it all started and if he couldn’t hear anything he didn’t know anything. If he didn’t know anything he couldn’t get mad at anything. 

“Thank you,” you shoot back before very quickly exiting their barracks. 

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

A/N - we love a vocal king

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain Part 2: Age of the Empire"

Chapter 33

"Ryloth"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Here we are, back again, my lovelies! I know I said recently that I've been lacking motivation to write this story, but I'm not gonna stop anytime soon. Though, all of a sudden, I was just hit with motivation like a ton of bricks and wrote most of this in the last 2 days!

We're heading to Ryloth, my friends!! This covers episode 11 and most of episode 12 of TBB season 1 and I kinda skip through a couple parts, so hopefully it's not too rushed. Enjoy y'all!!

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @legolkenxbi , @tech-aficionado

@ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettrose9901

@thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink

@l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49 , @avathebestx

@idoubleswearimawriter , @techs-stitches , @fantasyproductions , @totallyunidentified , @dreamsandrosies

《 Chapter 32

》 Chapter 34

All chapters (Part 2) (Part 1)

Explanation: The Bad Batch meet a young Twi'lek girl named Hera who later enlists their help to save her parents on Ryloth.

A couple months went by and both the Bad Batch and the Koriena Force were being kept busy with all sorts of jobs from Cid. It kept the two squads apart for days, sometimes weeks at a time and their time together was brief, which was a little disheartening for Wrecker and Rina as well as Echo and Lex. Tech and Irys would act indifferent, but everyone else could tell that even they kinda missed each other, too, during those long periods of time apart. Despite all that, they all at least were making money, which was helping them with their survival. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it was keeping them busy. 

At one point, the Bad Batch were sent off to do a weapons drop with some Twi’leks from Ryloth. From what they’d heard, things on that planet were a bit rough at the moment due to an increased Imperial presence there. They’d heard about more of that happening on other planets since Raxus and wondered if it was another potential Imperial occupation to add to the list. It seemed the group they were delivering weapons to were a couple of freedom fighters who were intent on opposing the Empire, which the Clones warned them would be dangerous.

When they’d met with the Twi’leks on one of Ryloth’s moons, they were surprised to see a young girl with the freedom fighters. One perhaps a year or two older than Omega, with green skin and green eyes bright with wonder upon seeing the Marauder. She went over to Omega asking if she could see inside and, with Hunter’s permission, Omega took her inside the ship. 

Kimber stuck around with the boys to make sure the weapons were sufficient enough for Gobi, the client, before letting them know she was gonna check on the girls and let them know things were finishing up. When she walked in, the two of them were near the back of the ship and Omega was telling the other girl about her room. 

“Well, technically, it’s our gunner’s mount,” Omega told her new friend, “but when we’re not getting chased or shot at, it’s my room.”

“Who’s chasing you? Are you in some kind of trouble?” the young Twi’lek asked.

“I thought you were in trouble. Isn’t that why we’re here?” Omega asked back.

It was then Kimber walked forward, removed her helmet and spoke up, saying as though she hadn’t heard anything, “What are you girls up to?”

The two of them turned to look at her and Omega responded, “I was just showing off my room.”

Kimber looked at the Twi’lek girl, whom she realized was also a few inches taller than Omega, and inquired, “What’s your name, dear?”

“I’m Hera,” the girl answered.

Omega took the lead and introduced Kimber, saying, “This is Kimber. She’s not a Clone, but she’s been part of the squad for a long time.” Then she smirked and added, “She’s also Hunter’s sweetheart and they’re so cute together.”

Kimber’s cheeks went slightly pink at Omega talking about her and Hunter as the two girls giggled. “Thanks, Omega,” she said a bit shyly. She turned back to Hera and commented, “You seemed pretty amazed by our ship when you came over.”

“Oh, I love learning about new ships. They fascinate me. I want to be a pilot one day,” Hera informed her with a big smile.

“A worthy ambition,” Kimber commented. “Well, girls, we’re just about finished outside if you want to wrap things up in here.”

“Okay,” said Omega.

With that, Kimber put her helmet back on and returned to the others outside. A few seconds later, the girls emerged from the ship, both smiling brightly at each other as they waved goodbye and Hera walked away with the other Twi’leks.

“Make a new friend?” Hunter inquired of Omega.

“She’s kind of strange. I like her,” she answered.

“She seemed very sweet,” Kimber added.

Holding up a finger, Omega stated as a matter of factly as she walked back to the ship, “Did you know flying’s about a feeling?”

The boys and Kimber all watched her curiously as she walked away and Tech asked aloud, “What feeling?”

No one really answered as the rest of them followed after Omega back to the ship. 

“She didn’t do anything to my ship, did she?” Tech asked as they boarded.

“Of course not,” Omega answered, smirking and shaking her head. “I kept my eye on her.”

Then Hunter said, looking at Tech, “Excuse me…your ship?”

“Yes. I am the primary pilot of this vessel, so therefore, it is my ship,” Tech responded.

“I am the Sergeant and leader of this squad, so it’s actually my ship,” Hunter retaliated, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. 

“I fail to see how rank has anything to do with it when I'm the one who flies it almost every time,” stated Tech.

Echo cried out, “Hey, I pilot the ship, too!”

Kimber stepped in and replied, “The key phrase from what Tech said is ‘almost every time’. Except for Omega and myself, you all fly the ship at times; therefore, it is our ship. Got it?”

Wrecker, who had just been listening to the conversation, butted in with, “She's got a point.”

Begrudgingly, Tech responded as he sat in the pilot's seat, “Oh, very well.” Then he started powering up the Marauder to leave.

As everyone moved about the ship, Hunter came over to Kimber. “You're quite the mediator sometimes,” he commented. 

With a shrug, she grinned and said, “I've learned how to handle you boys.”

He nodded, but then leaned in closer and whispered, “Though, we both know this is, in fact, my ship.”

She scoffed, grinned even more and shook her head. Sometimes, her Sergeant was unbelievable. She simply gave him a pat on the arm and relented, saying, “Of course, darling.”

The next day, the squad was just meandering through space, not really in a hurry to get back to Cid on Ord Mantell. Mostly everyone was keeping to themselves for the time except for Omega, who was attempting to fix Gonky's prime power source, and Kimber and Tech, who were sitting in the front of the cockpit in the middle of an important discussion…involving music playing on Kimber's music player.

A lively, upbeat tune was playing and Tech's eyebrows furrowed. “This was the music you listened to on Tatooine?” he inquired, seemingly unimpressed. 

“Some of it, yes,” she answered. “It's Max Rebo! He's quite a famous musician, especially on Tatooine. Don't tell me you've never heard of him.”

Nonchalantly, he simply said, “We were raised and trained as soldiers in wartime. We never exactly had the luxury of lounging around and listening to music.”

“Fair, but surely you had to have heard his music playing in 79's or other cantinas you've been to?” she said back.

“It's possible, but I don't have enough data to verify if we have.” 

“Then keep listening and see if it sounds familiar. Maybe you might like it, too.”

“I am uncertain if this particular tune is to my taste. It is rather--”

Just then, the screen in front of Tech started beeping and a box popped up. Kimber quickly switched off the music box and got up from her seat, moving over by Tech to see what was going on. 

Tech observed what was on the screen and stated aloud as Echo and Wrecker also came over, “We're receiving a recorded transmission.”

Turning over her shoulder, Kimber called for Hunter, who was currently with Omega in the back. When he walked in, she informed him, “We've got a recorded transmission coming in.”

Then Tech added, “However, I do not recognize this frequency.”

“Patch it through,” Hunter told him, taking a seat nearest the entryway. 

Tech pressed a button on the console and a hologram appeared in the middle of the area…revealing the familiar young Twi'lek girl they had met the day previous, crouching down and looking around in fear.

"Omega, it's Hera. You have to come back to Ryloth.”

Kimber gasped just as Wrecker asked, “Isn't she the kid from the weapons drop?”

“Hera?” they heard Omega ask aloud, having heard her friend's voice and dashing into the cockpit. 

The message continued on, Hera's voice hushed and anxious, “The Empire's taken my parents and they're after me now, too. I'm sending coordinates. Please hurry. I need your help.”

The recording ended and Hunter questioned Omega giving Hera their comm channel, to which Omega answered that it was for emergencies and Hera's message sounded urgent before insisting they answer her call.

Tech, however, wasn't fully convinced. “Perhaps the situation is not as dire as described. Children often overreact,” he said.

“No, we don't!” Omega argued, frustrated and offended. 

“That's quite the cynical take, Tech,” Kimber commented. She then directed her attention to Hunter. “Omega’s right. Hera sounded like she was in trouble. We need to go back to Ryloth.”

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but Omega cut in saying, “You heard her and Hera. She needs us.”

Putting his hand on her shoulder, Hunter responded, “Omega, it’s a big galaxy. We can’t put ourselves on the line every time someone’s in trouble.

“Why not? Isn’t that what soldiers do?” Omega asked in reply.

Her response seemed to strike something within Hunter as he was left unable to say anything back and he got a defeated look on his face. Kimber couldn’t help but grin to herself. Like her, Omega knew how to win Hunter over easily. 

With that, they were headed back to Ryloth. 

Luckily, they hadn’t gotten terribly far from Ryloth, so it didn’t take too long to get back. Tech had put in the coordinates Hera had sent to their frequency, which took them into a deep canyon. He carefully maneuvered the Marauder through the canyon until they came to a large cave in one of the walls; one big enough to fit their ship. The Clones and Kimber disembarked from the Marauder into the cave that was lit by a few lanterns and with a few crates spread about. Otherwise, there wasn’t much there. They found themselves greeted by a chirping orange and tan Droid waving his mechanical arms at them; Kimber recognized it as a C1 unit. It was followed by Hera, who told them she didn’t think they would come. After Hunter asked why the Empire was after her, she revealed that she was the daughter of Cham Syndulla, a freedom fighter and leader of a large rebellion on Ryloth, and that the Empire was capturing anyone loyal to him. The cave they were in was his old command outpost and she’d been hiding there to avoid the Empire. 

“What do you want us to do?” Echo asked her.

“Free my parents from the Capitol. That’s where they’re being held,” Hera answered. 

The Clones were all silent and exchanged unsure glances with each other. 

“Boys, why are we even questioning this?” Kimber asked them in disbelief. Why were they being so hesitant to help? This wasn’t like them. 

Hera tried even harder to convince them by begging, “They can pay you if you get them out. Please…I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

Kimber looked to the others and they still said nothing. She wasn’t going to stand for this, not when a child and her family’s lives were at stake. She walked over to Hera, followed by Omega, and laid a hand on her shoulder, saying, “Of course, we’ll help, Hera.” Then she looked back at the others. “Right, lads?” she asked, prompting them to go along with it with a hard look in her eyes.

Hunter released a sigh and replied, glancing down at Hera, “Let’s see what we’re up against first, but no guarantees.”

It wasn’t quite the answer Kimber was hoping for from him, but it was better than “no”. With that, Hera led them through a tunnel system in the canyon and they made their way up into the rocky hills outside the Capitol area. Once they spotted the Capitol, they all got down flat on the ground and took out their binoculars to observe the situation. There was a large crowd of Twi’leks gathered in the square, looking up to the balconies of one of the towers, and multiple Imperial troopers were stationed around the crowd. The C1 Droid--whom Hera had said was named Chopper--using an audio relay, was able to capture the speech being given by an Imperial officer at the moment. 

“Citizens of Ryloth, the shocking attack on your beloved senator has left you shaken, but Orn Free Taa's condition continues to improve, and he will make a full recovery. But the perpetrators of this heinous assassination attempt have been captured.”

“Assassination attempt?” Hunter repeated, glancing suspiciously over at Hera.

“That’s not what happened,” she insisted as the speech continued. 

Right after that, Omega said aloud, “Hunter…Crosshair’s here.”

Hearing that, Kimber immediately started looking for him with her binoculars and, sure enough, there he was, standing in front of the crowd with his rifle at the ready. Her entire body tensed up at seeing him there; her grip on her binoculars tightened and her teeth clenched, remembering their last encounter on Bracca. 

“Great…just what we need,” she groaned, now just angry at knowing their traitorous brother was there on Ryloth along with them.

Hunter signaled to everyone with his hand to regroup away from the edge and to huddle up. Everyone got to their feet and moved back a few feet, out of view from the gathering below. 

“The plasma bridge into the city’s been deactivated,” Hunter stated as they all crouched down and huddled up.

“Well, I say we fly in and blow our way out,” Wrecker suggested.

“The Capitol sensors would detect our ship,” Echo countered.

Glancing back over her shoulder at the crowd below and the Imperial soldiers surrounding them, Kimber commented, “I don’t like the look of this. There are a lot more Imperials here than I expected.”

“Indeed. The troop presence here is similar to that of Raxus. This is a military occupation,” Tech stated.

Echo replied that Ryloth wasn’t a Separatist planet like Raxus and as the two started debating, Hunter suddenly glanced over his shoulder up the mountain behind him before telling everyone to wait where they were and running off. They weren’t sure what he was doing, but about a minute later, there was a sudden metallic crashing sound above them. They all looked up and saw a broken, black Droid-like form fall in front of them, followed by Hunter landing on his feet. It was a probe Droid, its primary eye having been destroyed by Hunter’s vibroblade that he promptly removed from its sparking and smoking remains.

“Oh good…a probe Droid,” Tech sarcastically remarked.

“The Empire will know we’re here,” said Echo.

Tightening her hands into fists at her sides, Kimber added, “And so will Crosshair.”

Hunter gave the order for them to move and they quickly made their way back to the command outpost where their ship was docked. Tech and Chopper went inside the ship to check the Imperial comm channels and see if the probe Droid and sent out any information on their presence on Ryloth.

While they waited, Hera anxiously paced around, hugging her arms. “All my father wanted was peace on Ryloth. Why is this happening?” she asked, downtrodden.

Echo answered calmly, “He’s a voice the people stand behind. That makes him a threat to the Empire.”

“I don’t care about any of that. I just want my parents back,” the Twi’lek girl said in return.

Kimber truly felt sorry for the worried young girl and wanted to say something to comfort her, but in that moment, they heard Chopper chirping and warbling as he and Tech came walking out of the ship.

Still looking at his datapad for a second before looking to the others, Tech informed them all, “We’re all over the Imperial comm channels. They’ve increased patrols within the city.”

Hearing that news, Hunter immediately assumed that Crosshair would be expecting an attack and that they’d lost the element of surprise, deeming this mission an automatic failure and that there wasn’t anything they could do. Once again, Kimber was shocked at how quickly Hunter was to give up on helping Hera and she couldn’t help but feel frustrated at him. Why would he not help her? What was stopping him? Hera insisted they couldn’t leave, but Hunter wouldn’t budge, even when she desperately offered to pay them double.

“All the money in the galaxy won’t matter if we’re dead. What you’re asking us to do, it’s not worth the risk,” he told her sternly.

Angrily, Hera spat back, “Not to you,” and she stormed away, Chopper chirping in frustration at them before following her.

Omega scolded Hunter as the others went back into the ship, “You shouldn’t have said that.” Then she started to go after Hera.

“Being strategic means knowing your limitations, Omega,” he told her back.

She stopped in place, whipped around and replied, “She’s trying to save her family, Hunter. I’d do the same for you.” Without waiting for anything else, she turned back and ran after Hera.

That left Kimber and Hunter alone outside the ship.

“What is wrong with you?” Kimber asked him right away. “Hera is a child and her parents’ lives are in jeopardy. Why would you refuse to help her?”

“You saw the Capitol. There’s no way we’d be able to infiltrate it,” he said back. “It’s too heavily fortified.”

“And…? We’ve dealt with worse odds than that and still succeeded,” she stated. “You’re telling Omega to ‘know her limitations’, but that’s never stopped us before.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I know you, Hunter, and this isn’t like you. What's really going on? Why are you so reluctant to help Hera?”

He looked away and sighed, frustrated. 

Looking at him, she tried to place what could possibly be holding him back. He'd seemed hesitant when they first got there, but was at least willing to give the situation a once-over. Since coming back from scouting the Capitol, he was completely against it. Something had changed his mind somewhere between then and now. This wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and couldn't handle. 

Except for…

“It's Crosshair, isn't it?” she guessed aloud. 

His gaze found hers and he didn’t even try to hide in his face that she had guessed correctly. “After everything he did on Bracca…there’s no telling what he might do anymore,” he said. “I won’t have him find us or come after us again. I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I, but that doesn’t mean we should let the Syndullas suffer,” she replied. “There must be another way.”

“If you have any other ideas, please enlighten me,” he slightly snapped.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she chided him.

Conflicted, he just shook his head and looked to the ground.

Then she thought of something that would potentially change his mind. She fished out the credit necklace from underneath her armor and held it up in her fingers. “Have you already forgotten your promise?”

He looked up, confused at what she was getting at, but then he saw the credit.

She continued, “You told me you made a promise the day you got this credit to fight for the innocents of this galaxy…a promise I, too, took upon myself when you gave this to me.” She let go of the necklace, letting it hit her armor with a small metallic clink, the look in her eyes imploring her beloved Sergeant to see reason. “If we turn our backs on Hera, then we’re forgoing the promise we both made...and this goes beyond just helping the Syndullas. We fight to make the galaxy better for us and for everyone. If we run and hide, then we’re abandoning those we swore to protect. One day, we’ll have to face reality and if we find the galaxy isn’t better, then we will have failed as soldiers. Would you be able to live with yourself if that happened, Hunter? Because I certainly couldn’t.”

Kimber’s seemingly endless conviction even in the face of uncertain odds never ceased to amaze Hunter. He loved and admired that about her so much. He released a breath, calming himself, stepped closer to her and laid his hands on her arms. “I understand what you’re saying, my love,” he said collectedly, “but this is more complicated than that. The Empire knows we’re here and by extent, Crosshair most likely knows. The chances of us getting captured are higher; more than anything we’ve had to deal with before and we’re no good to Hera or her parents if we end up as prisoners, too.”

Even though she knew there was some truth to his words, Kimber was certain there had to be some other way to help; something else they could do. “Maybe the girls will be able to think of something,” she submitted. “Omega is very clever and Hera has already proven to be quite resourceful. Perhaps, if they work together, they might be able to hatch a plan.”

“Hera would have to really know the inner workings of the Capitol in order to pull off any sort of plan,” he stated. 

“This is her home, after all. She could surprise us. You need to have a little more faith in them,” she responded. She rested a hand on the tattooed side of his face. “I know you’re trying to keep us all safe and you have every reason to, but this isn’t about us. This is about a family who needs our help; an influential family, no less, who can help the people here.” She dropped her hand and took a step back. “You and the boys might want to give up, but I won’t. I refuse to. I couldn’t save my own parents…but I can help save Hera’s.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away in the direction the girls had gone, ignoring Hunter saying her name behind her. It hadn’t fully dawned on her why she had felt so determined to help Hera until the last sentence had left her mouth. A young girl was trying to save her parents and a sense of guilt seemed to eat away at Kimber for being unable to save her own parents from the Tuskens what felt like so long ago. She couldn’t bear the thought of another girl suffering the same fate. Not when she could possibly do something about it.

It didn’t take her long for her to find the girls and Chopper and the two of them were sitting on the ground, deep in conversation. It didn’t seem like just a casual conversation, however. This seemed more intense and important.

“You girls okay?” Kimber asked them as she approached. 

They both turned their attention to her and Omega answered. “More than okay. I think Hera and I have a plan to rescue her parents.”

Kimber smirked, seeing now that she was right to have faith in the girls’ ability to strategize. Hopefully, their plan was one that could possibly work. “You do, huh?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“You don’t believe this can be done either, do you?” Hera asked skeptically.

“On the contrary. I believe you two are very smart and had a feeling you’d be able to think of something if you worked together,” Kimber refuted.

Hera’s eyes widened in surprise and next to her, Chopper let out three low warbles that, to Kimber’s slight shock, sounded a lot like he was saying, “I told you.”

“We can tell Kimber our idea. She might be able to help us,” Omega then told Hera.

“So what’s the plan, you two?” Kimber asked, crouching down next to them.

Getting a look of reassurance from Omega, Hera informed Kimber, “I had the thought of us attacking the Imperial refinery that’s on the outskirts of the city. I’ve been watching it for a while and I know what goes on there enough to plan an attack.”

“Why attack the refinery?” Kimber asked. She wasn’t asking necessarily because she didn’t understand, but more because she wanted to see if Hera understood her own plan.

“It’s been the Empire’s big project here and therefore, very important. If it gets attacked, that should divert all Imperial forces there and out of the Capitol,” said Hera.

Then Omega interjected, “That should give us an opening to get inside and rescue Hera’s parents.”

Kimber bobbed her head, impressed. They knew exactly what they were doing, which she believed they would. “Most refineries are heavily armed for protection. Do you have a way to deal with that?”

“Yes,” Hera responded determinedly. “There are five unmanned perimeter cannons that Chopper can disable. He can easily sneak in and do it.”

Chopper chirped gleefully and flexed his mechanical arms with confidence, making Kimber snicker at him. 

Then she said out loud, more to herself, “If we attack the refinery and take out the cannons, the Imperial reinforcements should definitely get redirected there. Our squad can scale the walls and find a way inside the Capitol. Getting out may possibly be a different issue, but we can handle that.” She smiled at both Hera and Omega. “I’m impressed. You girls know your stuff.”

“See? I knew this was a good idea!” Omega exclaimed to Hera.

Even though she had a smile at Kimber’s compliment, it quickly faded as Hera proceeded to ask, “But will it be enough to convince Hunter and the others? Do you think they’ll get on board with our plan?”

“A sound, strategic plan to infiltrate an Imperial-occupied stronghold and mess things up for the Empire?” Kimber rhetorically asked. She let out a proud scoff. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind that they’ll get on board.”

After Kimber, Omega, Hera and Chopper returned to the ship, the two girls immediately pitched their plan to the Clones, complete with hologram projections of the refinery from Chopper to help better visualize what they wanted to do. Kimber watched them with pride as they confidently answered every question the Clones asked with already thought out detail. In the end, it was enough to convince them to take action. Hunter told the girls to be Chopper’s backup, but to stay at a distance. Then he ordered Tech and Wrecker to wait until the cannons were disabled and then move in on the refinery while he, Echo and Kimber scaled the Capitol wall to get in and free Hera’s parents. They’d wait until dark to enact their plan so as to have the most cover as best they could.

As the team all split up to get into their positions, Hunter commented to Kimber, “I guess you were right to have faith in the kids.”

She grinned. “I know I was,” she replied, half serious and half joking. “You really should have more faith, too.”

“If this plan succeeds, then I will,” he said back.

Kimber, Hunter and Echo, after making sure the girls were in position via their comms, they made their way to the outer city wall. Once they reached it, they prepped their climbing magnets.

“Race you to the top?” Echo challenged Kimber. 

“Last one up buys Mantell Mix,” she said in return. 

With that, the three of them began climbing carefully up the wall. As they got closer to the top, they heard the chatter of comms above them as well as footsteps, signifying the nightly patrol. Hunter held up his hand, signaling Echo and Kimber to wait. However, as Hunter kept climbing, the white helmet of an Imperial looked over the edge down at them.

“A little help?” Echo sarcastically asked.

They heard Hunter’s voice and then suddenly the trooper disappeared from view as they heard the thud of a punch hitting armor. Hunter then reached down and pulled Echo up followed by Kimber.

“Ha! Looks like you owe me Mantell Mix, Kim,” Echo snarkily remarked.

“Oh, stow it,” she begrudgingly replied. “You don’t even eat it.”

She heard Echo lightly chuckle as the three of them continued on down the wall and made their way towards the square. 

“Hera said the prison should be underneath that tower,” Hunter informed the other two, pointing to the furthest tower in the square.

“You two head for the prison and break out the Syndullas. I’ll get into the opposite tower and keep a lookout to make sure the Imperial reinforcements head for the refinery,” stated Kimber.

With a bow of the head, Hunter responded, “Understood. Be careful and stay on comms.”

“I will,” she said. 

While Hunter and Echo went one way, Kimber went the opposite, heading for the tower on the other side of the square. She snuck through the edge of the common area to where the large door was. After activating, she lifted her rifle, ready to fight, but luckily the area was empty. So far, so good. She continued on up into the tower, carefully coming around each corner in case there was an enemy nearby, but the tower was seemingly empty, which made things easier. She heard Tech over her helmet comm ask Omega if Chopper had disabled the cannons yet, to which she replied that she and Hera were working on it…and to not shoot down their shuttle.

“That’s something I wasn’t expecting to hear,” she whispered to herself upon hearing that response before continuing up the tower.

Finally, she reached the uppermost office, which was also empty, and she moved across the room, the door to the outer balcony opening up and closing behind her.

“I’m in position, Hunter,” she said over her comm, crouching down and setting her rifle on the railing. 

A few seconds later, she heard an explosion in the distance and couldn’t help but snicker to herself. It seemed the girls had to improvise and she couldn’t be prouder.

“Omega, I am registering multiple explosions near the refinery,” she heard Tech state over the comm.

Then Omega’s voice responded, “That was us. Cannons are down. Do some damage, Wrecker.”

After hearing the sounds of more distant explosions, Kimber pressed the side of her helmet to activate her comm and said, “Hunter, Echo, the refinery has been hit. Reinforcements should be on the move any minute.”

“Copy that,” she heard Echo respond. 

Just as she looked back through the scope on her rifle, she caught sight of the top office doors opening and a trooper walked through, spotting her across the way immediately. Instinctively, she stood up and took up her rifle, ready to shoot, but the trooper, astonishingly, held up his hands by his head. In the dim light, she noticed his armor had blue or possibly teal-colored accents and had a winged pauldron on his right shoulder. It was Clone armor; a Clone Captain’s armor, no less. Seeing him not reaching for his weapon made her hesitate and her rifle lowered slightly, but she kept her eye on him through the scope. Then the unknown trooper surprised her even more by holding up a finger to the lower part of his helmet where his mouth would be and then signaled for her to get down. 

She was about to question why, but in that moment, the door at the base of his tower opened and she saw Imperial soldiers running out towards the shuttles that were docked in the square. Swiftly, she fell back to her knees behind the railing and out of sight. When she carefully peeked back over, the troopers were all powering up the shuttles and climbing inside. Then the shuttles started lifting off the ground and flying away…except for one.

In the headlight of the one remaining shuttle, she saw a lone soldier looking back towards the other tower. She lifted up her rifle and looked through the scope to see who it was and what was going on. She saw the back of a bald head, but a set of black armor and a rifle in his hand that looked familiar. Then his head turned and she realized it was Crosshair, who was now giving an order to his squad that had gotten on the shuttle. She saw one of the soldiers come out and tap something on a datapad while Crosshair gestured to a couple others and then to the tower on the other side. Right after that, all of the troopers on the shuttle started filing out and prepping their weapons.

“Blast it…he’s figured us out,” she groaned out loud. She got back down and spoke quietly into her helmet comm, “Hunter, Echo, we’ve been compromised. I think Crosshair has figured out our plan and is stationing a squad just outside. You’re walking into a trap and need to find another way out.”

She waited a couple seconds, but there was no response.

“Hunter, Echo, do you read me? Crosshair knows. It’s a trap!”

No response except for static feedback in her ears. That sound only meant one thing: their communications were being jammed. Neither Hunter nor Echo would hear her warning about the squad outside. They’d walk right into Crosshair’s trap and their whole plan would fail. She had to get to them quickly and warn them. Since the tower had been empty upon entering, she figured she could easily sneak back out, especially since Crosshair’s squad all had their backs to her. She’d get out and make her way to one of the side entrances that would take her to the other tower. 

She stood up, ready to take off, but stole one last look across the way. The mysterious Clone soldier that had been there was gone...and when she looked down, so was Crosshair.

Immediately, she stiffened. Where had he gone? He wasn’t anywhere to be seen down below. That was a worse sign and an even bigger indicator that she had to get out and fast. She ran through the balcony doors and back into the office, knowing she had to get to Hunter and Echo as soon as possible.

Kimber activated the doors to the office, ready to run…and instead, found herself face to face with Crosshair.

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 15

summary: the tension...is palpable. but maybe a breakthrough?

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: TWO IN ONE WEEK! I love seeing everyone's responses to this story! it's so fun to write, and it's definitely heating up. let me know what you think!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________________________________

The sterile air of the training room hummed with a tension that felt almost palpable. Bucky stood, arms crossed, in front of a giant digital screen displaying a complex urban environment. Charlotte, her focus intense, studied the map that sprawled before her. It had only been two days since the attack on the compound, and though she’d been released to sleep in her own bed the first night, she wasn’t cleared for combat training until her broken ribs had healed and the stitches had been removed from her leg. She’d opted to return to lessons with Bucky almost immediately, despite their spat in the medical wing. Her desire to avoid being alone with her thoughts was stronger than her desire to avoid him. 

He wore his normal daily attire: tactical pants and combat boots, a snug black shirt hugging his chest. Charlotte wore almost identical garb, with loose cargo pants the most comfortable to wear over the bandaging on her leg. 

"Okay," Bucky began, his voice steady, "you have your objective. Hostage situation, downtown area, high civilian presence. Minimal casualties, maximum stealth. Your move."

Charlotte paused for a moment before pointing to a section of the map, tracing a potential entry route. "Rooftop entry here. We can use the neighboring building as a vantage point."

Bucky shook his head. "Too exposed. Snipers could easily pin you down. Next."

She bit her lip, her frustration growing, then suggested, "What about a distraction? Create a diversion on the opposite block to draw them out."

"And risk civilian casualties? Not an option. Think, Charlotte."

She took a deep breath, regrouping, before offering another handful of potential ways to diffuse the situation. With each suggestion shot down, Charlotte's strategies grew more audacious, her patience thinning. As her ideas got sloppier, Bucky’s feedback got more critical. 

“You do that and you might as well just surrender now. They’d see you coming a mile away and have all their forces ready to ambush you. Are you prepared to send your whole team into a blatant trap? You’re not even thinking this through.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

Finally, she snapped. "What do you want from me, Bucky? To pull some genius plan out of thin air? You're not giving me anything to work with!"

Bucky, unyielding, leaned forward until his face was inches from hers. "I want you to think. Real situations won't give you 'anything to work with' either. You need to adapt, improvise, and most importantly, keep those hostages and your team safe."

Charlotte's eyes blazed. "You think I don't know that? You're acting like I'm some rookie who's never faced a real threat!"

“Last time I checked, you are a rookie. When was the last mission you came on?” Bucky's tone hardened. "I'm trying to prepare you for situations where there might not be a clear right answer. You think I don't see your potential? I do. But potential's not enough when the lives of people you care about are on the line. You need to be strategic, not just brave. If you run into an escalated situation with nothing but ‘kick ass’ in your arsenal, you’re going to get yourself killed."

The air between them crackled with tension as Charlotte threw her hands in the air. "Oh, so now you're the world’s leading expert on nonviolent negotiations? Last time I checked, only one of us  has ‘World’s Deadliest’ on our resume and it isn’t me.” She didn’t shy away, getting even closer to his face. “Tell me how much strategy came into play then, Soldat."

The words hung heavy, a low blow that cut incredibly deep. Bucky's face tightened, a flicker of old pain in his eyes as he set his jaw. If looks could kill, she had a feeling she’d have already taken her last breath. Instead of the verbal lashing she expected, he took a slow breath before stepping back.

"That's not fair, Charlotte, and you know it," he replied, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through the tension.

Charlotte, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and regret, met his gaze. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

"I—" She began, then stopped. What was she doing? This was Bucky, who'd risked everything, who'd been through hell and back. And here she was, using his past against him. "I'm sorry," she said, the words feeling inadequate. "That was out of line."

But Bucky's demeanor had already shifted. He looked at her, his gaze piercing, and for a moment, Charlotte thought she saw a flicker of something more—anger, betrayal, perhaps even hurt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, shuttered behind the steel walls he was so adept at erecting.

"Yeah," Bucky finally said, his voice cold and distant. "It was."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked briskly away. The sound of his boots against the floor echoed in the large room, each step thundering through her. Charlotte watched him go, her heart sinking. She wanted to call out, to apologize again, to explain that her words had come from a place of frustration and fear, not malice. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up with her pride and the lingering sting of their argument.

As the door slid shut behind him, leaving her alone in the silence of the training room, a mix of emotions roiled within her. Guilt for having crossed a line, anger at Bucky for being so impossibly difficult to work with, and beneath it all, a gnawing fear that she had just irreparably damaged whatever fragile connection they had been building. 

She sank down onto a nearby bench, her injured leg protesting the sudden movement. The physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil swirling inside her. She had wanted to prove herself, to show Bucky—and maybe, more importantly, herself—that she was capable, that she wasn't the weak link. Instead, she had let her temper get the best of her, lashing out in the worst possible way. The worst part? She really was trying. All of her suggestions, at least the early ones, were instinctive. Had she been in the heat of a mission, thinking on the spot, she would have acted on them. Acted on them and gotten people killed, as Bucky was so keen on reminding her. Goddamn him, this was difficult for her. She didn’t come from a military background before her capture by HYDRA, and she didn’t have years with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes honing her skills. She knew how to fight, how to survive, as she’d proven time and time again. Yet, all he seemed to be able to see was where she fell short. Brute strength and violence had gotten him through some of the worst horrors known to man, and here he was, telling her that wouldn’t be enough. Well, it would have to be. That was all she had. 

The room felt oppressively large now, the echoes of their argument bouncing off the walls, a reminder of how quickly things had spiraled out of control, as they always seemed to do. Charlotte wrapped her arms around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

______

The night air was crisp, and the lake below was a reflection of the starlit sky as Charlotte stood alone on the balcony, wrapped in her thoughts and an oversized sweatshirt. The events of the day had left her raw, her emotions a tangle of frustration, guilt, and an indefinable ache that seemed to pulse with the night. She’d avoided the common room until she knew Bucky would be in training with the SHIELD agents, then shut herself in her room until after dinner, leaving only to get herself the plate of food she knew Natasha had left in the fridge for her. After another failed attempt to sleep, she’d awoken in a cold sweat and found her way out to the balcony. 

Behind her, the sliding door whispered open, and she stiffened, half-expecting another attack. But when she whirled around, already setting her feet in a defensive posture, it was to find Bucky standing there with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. The panic must have shown on her face because he raised the mugs candidly, showing the peace offering. 

"Vanilla, extra cream," he said, extending one of the cups towards her. The gesture was so unexpected, so gentle after their harsh words earlier, that Charlotte found herself momentarily lost for words. She couldn’t remember ever telling him how she took her coffee, and yet here it was, smelling perfectly sweet and familiar.

She took the cup, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. "Bucky, I—I need to apologize. For earlier. I was so out of line," she started, but Bucky shook his head, cutting her off.

"No," he said firmly, "I pushed you too hard. I haven't been fair to you, haven't given you the credit you deserve." He leaned on the balcony railing, his gaze distant, reflective. "You saved the compound, Charlotte. While we were off chasing ghosts, you...you showed you have what it takes. In the heat of the moment, you did what you had to, and you saved lives." He tilted his head to meet her eyes. “You risked your own. I just…don’t want you to have to do that again.”

Charlotte's facade crumbled, her carefully constructed walls falling away as tears welled in her eyes. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked, brows furrowing in concern.

"I just... I didn't feel prepared," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was terrified the whole time, and I had no idea what I was doing. Everyone keeps calling me a hero, and I don’t…I’m not one.”

Bucky's head tilted as he took a step closer, his gaze searching hers. "You did great out there, Charlotte. You saved this whole place, and the lives of everyone in it."

Charlotte shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as the tears spilled over. "Did I? Or was it just dumb luck?"

Bucky reached out, gently cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Hey, don't say that. You were incredible. You held your own against HYDRA."

“I was scared shitless. I kept thinking how it was my fault. My fault they came here in the first place, and it would be my fault that the compound fell while you were gone. The whole time, I was just…making it up as I went.” She laughed coldly again, looking up to blink back tears. “Everyone keeps acting like I did something amazing, when we both know I only survived because of you. You’re the only one who sees through me, sees that I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing and I hate it. I wish you weren’t right, but you have been. Every single goddamn time.” She angrily wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Watching her, sensing she wasn’t done, Bucky’s hand rested reassuringly on her shoulder. 

Charlotte looked down into her mug, seeing her reflection warped on the surface of the liquid. "I felt terrified," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Confused, lost. It all felt so... unnatural. I was second-guessing every decision, worried I was making the wrong move." She stared blankly ahead, eyes unseeing as her gaze looked somewhere past the lake. "I took it as a sign that I'd never make a good Avenger."

Bucky leaned back down over the railing, frowning at her. "Do you think you're the only one who feels that way? Even after hundreds of missions, there are times I'm still scared, still doubting." He paused, searching her face. "That fear, that uncertainty, it doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. And it's what makes you think, makes you evaluate and choose the best path forward, even when it's hard. It doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for this…it just means you actually give a shit about what you’re doing."

Charlotte met his gaze, and in that moment, a connection forged in the heat of conflict and cooled in the calm of understanding passed between them. The swift forgiveness of her incredibly cruel words. The raw, brutal honesty. The peace offering. The lack of judgment as she broke down in front of him. "I guess we're just trying to do our best, huh?" she said, a tentative, watery smile touching her lips.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, his voice soft but steady. "We're all just trying to do our best.”

Charlotte stared ahead, taking a slow sip of her coffee. Bucky studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Why are you up so late, Char?" he asked quietly.

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat for a moment before she spoke. "Nightmares," she admitted quietly. "I’ve always had them, but they've been worse since... since the attack. I see all the other outcomes, if I’d failed. Tonight I dreamt that they got me, took me back there. That’s the worst one. Sometimes I have to get outside, under the stars and fresh air, just to remind myself that I'm free."

Bucky's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low. "I still get them too. I imagine that I wake up from cryo, and this was all a dream, that I was never free. That’s my worst one.” 

Their eyes met, a rare moment when both of their walls had come down. Their looks mirrored each other, vulnerable and bare, waiting for the other to make one wrong move and get shut back out. Neither of them spoke. Even speaking the contents of her nightmares aloud had made Charlotte’s hands tremble, and she took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of her coffee cup. Breaking their gaze, she looked back out into the expansive night sky.

"Are you...scared? Now that they’re back?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky didn't hesitate. "Shitless.”

Charlotte reached out, her hand finding his on the railing. She expected him to pull away, to retreat into himself as he so often did. But to her surprise, he didn't. Instead, he tightened his grip, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.

They sat in silence as the night stretched on around them, finding solace in each other's presence. They had no answers, no reprieve in sleep, not even peace in their home, but they had a hand to hold onto, anchoring them in their fear. And with it, they found a flicker of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

________

The Avengers' kitchen was a hive of activity, with pots clanging, eggs frying, and the aroma of breakfast filling the air. The team members moved about with practiced ease, each contributing to the morning chaos in their own way.

Sam, wielding a spatula like a pro, called out to Natasha, who was expertly flipping pancakes on the griddle. "Hey, Nat, you sure you didn't miss your calling as a short-order cook?" he teased, earning a laugh from the others.

“Maybe in the next life,” She winked, flipping another perfect pancake.

Steve couldn't resist chiming in from his post by the toaster. "I don't know, Sam. I think I’ve got her beat," he quipped, waving his burnt toast in the air. Charlotte wrinkled her nose as she walked past it, the bitter smell assaulting her. 

“Good morning sunshine,” Sam called before resuming his whistling, clearly in a great mood. Charlotte wondered if he’d just gotten back from Calla’s apartment, and when they’d stop splitting their time now that the secret of their relationship was out. She made a note to ask her friend later.

Bucky, already stationed by the coffee pot, flashed a grin as Charlotte waltzed up. "Coffee?" he offered, holding out a mug with a knowing look.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Second coffee in less than twelve hours?”

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. "Don’t get used to it," he deadpanned.

“Don’t be such a good barista.” She teased, sipping from her mug before hopping onto the counter beside him.

Their exchange didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the team, who exchanged knowing glances and playful nudges as they observed the interaction.

Sam couldn't resist a quip. "Well, would you look at that? Bucky's finally learned how to share," he teased.

Natasha smirked, shooting Bucky a pointed look. "I guess miracles really do happen.” 

Always ready to diffuse a situation, Steve called. "Hey, Charlotte, I meant to tell you," he began, catching her eye. "Tony and Pepper are coming back to the compound later this afternoon. Pepper wants to meet with you.”

Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Why?" she asked.

Steve nodded, his expression reassuring. "Yep. She wants to talk about hosting a press conference. They think it's time to let the world know who you are.” He gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll do great. We’ve all done them. Even Bucky.” He elbowed his friend as he sidled past, plopping down at the head of the table. 

Charlotte raised her eyebrows, still looking hesitant. “If you say so.” 

“At least you'll look better on TV than Sam," Bucky said dryly, giving her a sidelong look.

Sam bristled at the jab, shooting Bucky a mock glare. "Hey, watch it, Barnes. I'll have you know I've got a face for the big screen," he retorted.

“Is that what they’ve been telling you?” He raised an eyebrow, dodging a swat from Sam’s spatula. Giggling, Charlotte felt slightly more at ease as her friends fell into chaos around her. 

_________

Smoothing her shirt, Charlotte approached the sleek conference room with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting with Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's famed and formidable right-hand woman. Did she do something wrong? Was she in trouble? The thoughts raced through her mind as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Ms. Rossi, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat," Pepper greeted warmly, gesturing to a chair across from her. She was beautiful, looking equal parts polished and genuine. 

Charlotte forced a smile and took a seat, trying to hide her unease. "My friends call me Charlotte, or at least, everyone here does.”

Pepper chuckled. "Alright, Charlotte. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you."

“Likewise.” She raised an eyebrow. “Although I’ll warn you, I’m not overly keen on the idea of a press conference…if that’s what this is about.”

Pepper chuckled again. "It is, but just know there’s no pressure. This is my professional recommendation, if you desire to be a more public part of the team. We’ve had quite a few incidents of public scrutiny over the past several years, and we’ve found that it makes everyone’s lives much easier if we stay ahead of it. And since you’re new here…"

Charlotte leaned back in her chair, adopting a more casual posture. "Then we should get ahead of it before the public can find something to scrutinize."

Pepper smiled. "Exactly."

“Well, let’s hear the game plan, then. You’re the expert.” 

Pepper clasped her hands together on the table atop a stack of notes. "Well, with everything that's been happening lately, there's been quite a bit of interest in you."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Me? What’s been happening lately?”

Pepper laughed softly. "Modesty, I see. But yes, your journey has captivated a lot of attention. You were all over the news with your stint in gymnastics, and then you even made a splash as a big fish in Las Vegas, all before disappearing. The internet is very difficult to slip anything past, and it didn’t take long for them to put things together. People love a mystery."

Charlotte tilted her head warily. "That’s one thing to call me."

Pepper smiled. "Indeed. But, we have an opportunity to share your story with the world. On your terms, the way you want it to be told. As much or as little as you’d like to give, anything would help prevent people from writing the narrative for you. Show them who you are before they can tell you."

Charlotte's skepticism showed on her face. "Ah, the old charm offensive, huh?"

Pepper nodded. "Something like that. It's a chance for people to get to know the real Charlotte, not just the headlines they’ll inevitably see if you join the Avengers Initiative."

“Who says I’m joining the Avengers?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m very good at my job.” Pepper winked. “And don't worry, you won't be alone. The team and I will be there to support you every step of the way. We’ll prepare you beforehand, be right there to step in if you get uncomfortable or don’t know how to answer something. You have my word.” 

Charlotte gave a half smile. "Alright, I'll do it. But if I say something wildly inappropriate or incriminating, I can’t be held responsible.”

Pepper laughed. "Have you met Tony? I don’t think we’ve ever had a press conference without something wildly inappropriate or incriminating. You’ll do just fine.”

[marvel-ous-m]

*another installment of Modern Elementary School Steddie AU* *TWs: Hospital visit, medical scare*

It’s a rainy Friday in March when everything goes to shit. They’re coming up on Steve and Eddie’s 6 month anniversary, and Eddie’s using his lunch break to browse some potential weekend getaway spots. They can’t go too expensive- they’re both living off of a teacher’s salary after all, they can barely afford their living expenses, plus Valentine’s day just happened and they went a little overboard with a nice dinner- but Eddie had picked up a couple extra shifts at his old shop over the last few weekends while Steve was busy grading papers and lesson planning, so he had a little money set aside to treat Steve to something special. 

Eddie’s just about to press the ‘reserve’ button on an AirBnB in Chicago for the weekend when Mike Wheeler and Will Byers walk into his library holding hands. 

Unaccompanied.

And Mike looks like he’s been crying. 

Eddie stands from his chair and circles his desk, crouching in front of the two boys. “Hey guys. You should be doing…” Eddie searches his brain for a moment, trying to remember Steve’s schedule for the kids. “Math problems right now, right? Does Mr. Steve know that you’re here?”

“He told us to come here.” Will sniffs, and Eddie notes that he looks on the brink of tears. “He stopped teaching and then turned all the lights off and then sat down and then made us come an’ get you. ‘S he gonna be okay?” 

Eddie tries very, very hard to keep the panic off of his face. He honestly has no clue what’s going on, but he doesn’t waste time trying to figure it out. “Let’s go make sure. Good job being safe by coming here together, boys.” Eddie walks out of the library with them and down the hall- and goddamn why was Steve’s classroom so far from the library?!

Finally, after the longest three minutes of Eddie’s life, they make it to the classroom and Eddie finds a dark classroom of quiet kids sitting politely at their desks and Steve sitting at the front of the room, his forehead against the metal of his teacher’s table. Eddie clears his throat, smiling at all the kids. He needs to check on Steve, but if something is seriously wrong, he knows that Steve wouldn’t want the kids to see it. “Alright everyone, line up, we’re gonna visit Mr. Argyle’s 2nd grade class. C’mon, hop to it.” 

Argyle teaches across the hall, so Eddie figured it would be fastest to usher the kids across the hallway to him. He gets them all in a line within a minute (which is probably a world record for any elementary school anywhere, but he doesn’t exactly have the time to parade his accomplishment around at the moment). Argyle accepts the kids without question, having them all join him on the carpet at the front of the room for story time. He must see something in Eddie’s expression because Argyle waves him off the second the last kid steps into the classroom.

Eddie’s back across the hall in a heartbeat, kneeling next to Steve and brushing some hair out of his face. “Hey pretty boy. What’s goin’ on?” 

Steve lets out a low groan, shaking his head slightly against the table. Eddie sighs in response. “I need to know what’s wrong so I can fix it, babylove. Can you give me any direction? Is this a need-a-break-for-30-minutes thing or a need-to-call-the-paramedics thing?” Eddie sends a quick prayer to whatever being is listening that it’s not the second option. 

Then Steve unfurls his fist that was previously clenched in a fist and holds up two fingers, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

He uses Steve’s phone to dial Nancy’s extension, petrified of letting Steve out of his sight. He tells her it’s a code red and that she needs to come to Steve’s classroom pronto. Steve doesn’t complain about anything, like, ever. They were making dinner one night about a month ago and Steve cut his hand open on a potato peeler and laughed it off- then kept laughing it off as they went to urgent care to get him stitches. 

Eddie meets Nancy in the hall- reluctant to leave Steve, but also conscientious of not freaking Steve out as they go through the motions of getting him help. Nancy’s got her cell phone out and she dials for a paramedic first, then texts Johnathan to let him know that his afternoon library session had to be canceled. They both wait with Steve in the dark of his classroom until Nancy gets the call from the front office that the ambulance arrived. She stalks off, returning five minutes later with four paramedics and a stretcher. 

Eddie is pushed out of the way- and fuck, he hates having to stand by and watch, chewing at his fingernails as he sees the gaggle of paramedics speaking quietly between themselves and making Steve respond to questions and open his eyes for them to shine a light and check his pupils. Then they’re loading him on a stretcher, and everything starts to go by too quickly for Eddie to process.

Eddie blinks, and he’s in the back of an ambulance, his hand wrapped around Steve’s ankle- the only spot Eddie feels like he can touch without messing with wires, but he’s desperate to hold onto something. To show Steve that he’s here. 

He blinks again, and Eddie’s standing at the doors to the emergency room, staring at the doors through which they had just taken Steve, the doors through which he was not allowed to follow.

Another blink and he’s sitting at Steve’s bedside, head in his hands while Steve takes a medically-induced nap next to him. He’d been taken in for scans- MRI, CT, XRay- Eddie wasn’t sure, he got the letters mixed up in his panic, all he knew was that they scanned his head because his pupils weren’t dilating correctly, then took his blood to run some tests, then put him to sleep because he had thrown up from pain and had begged for them to turn the lights off.

Which, Eddie hated the image of Steve feeling that way. He could barely stand it. But he was glad that the nurse had told him- because seeing Steve wheeled back to the hospital room asleep had scared Eddie in an entirely different way. 

Steve woke up about two hours after he had been returned from his scans. He was groggy, but had reached for Eddie almost immediately and said that he was feeling a lot better, which made Eddie’s heart rate go down to a semi-normal bpm (in comparison to the previous extremely high heart rate- his anxiety was a bitch). A doctor joined them a few minutes later and Eddie held Steve’s hand as they got the update. 

Steve had a migraine, which the doctor explained could be chronic- Steve would need to speak with a neurologist about that. The emergency room doctor said he suspected it was due to head trauma and was latent until something knocked it into presenting itself. And that’s how Eddie found out that Jonathan Byers, 5th grade teacher, once beat up Steve when they were teenagers to protect Nancy Wheeler’s honor? Which... it was a very confusing timeline, not aided by Steve’s exhaustion, but Eddie made him promise that they would talk about it in detail when Steve was feeling better. 

Then Steve confessed to getting in a bar fight with a guy that happened to be Max Mayfield’s much older step-brother, where he had a beer bottle smashed over his head (a story which Eddie also couldn’t follow due to Steve’s current condition, and also made Steve promise to tell again when he was feeling better). 

Then there was a story about Steve getting punched by a Russian guy who was mugging him a year or so ago- which, how does that even happen? 

Then Steve finished off his recounting of his head trauma history by sharing that he’d slipped on some ice at the bottom of the stairs of his apartment complex about a month ago, and that the back of his head had hit the bottom step when he fell. He apparently didn’t think much of it at the time other than that it hurt like hell (which made Eddie have Steve promise to tell him anytime he got hurt- because things like this couldn’t keep happening). 

After recounting all his concussions, the doctor handed them a referral to a neurologist and had a nurse get them discharged. Eddie took Steve back to his place that night, unable to let Steve out of his sight. Steve was exhausted from the day, and in Eddie’s opinion, rightfully so. Eddie helped him get changed into sweats and then changed himself into more comfortable clothes. Finally, after they were both settled in Eddie’s bed, Eddie wrapped himself around Steve and kissed Steve’s forehead, watching his boy sleep the day’s stress away. Nancy gave them both the rest of the week off, knowing that Steve needed the rest and Eddie needed the peace of mind.

The two went to the neurologist that weekend and, after some more tests, Steve was diagnosed with chronic migraines due to multiple traumatic brain injuries. He was prescribed a daily medication, a preventative medication in case he began to feel a migraine coming on, and some high-strength pain medication to take if a migraine happened. He was also given strict orders to avoid any activities that could cause further brain injury, as that could lead to results that, for Eddie’s own health, were best not to talk at length about. 

Their anniversary money ended up getting used to offset the costs of the specialist visit and medication copay, and they ended up spending their 6 month anniversary curled up in Eddie’s bed while Eddie read Steve The Hobbit, but if the experience taught them both anything, it was that they didn’t need fancy trips out of state or five-star dinners to celebrate their love- the most important thing was just having time with each other, because they could have lost that completely, and they were never going to take that for granted again. 

Taglist: @goodolefashionedloverboi

Drop me an ask if you want to get added to the taglist or if you have any ideas/questions about this series!

[edenityy]

( chapter nineteen ! )

"He's dead!"

Thunder crackles in the stormy night sky, creating a flash in the window that highlights Georg Von Siemens' cold and lifeless eyes. The party attendees crowd the room with tense postures, mixtures of silence and loud chatter travel through their ears. Naturally, no one can be calm in this situation, like Patrick Phelps who collapsed.

Even Leah keeps a firm grip on Ciel, her robe hardly working to counter the chill in the air, both from the weather and atmosphere. She keeps her head against his shoulder but subtly peeks out to view the scene, the fabric of her fiancé's robe gently rubbing against her cheek.

"A.. Anyway, we shouldn't move anything until the yard arrives.." Grimsby struggles to keep his voice steady as he glances around at the others in the room.

Bardroy gives a shake of his head. "No. It'd be better if we move the body now."

"Huh?" asks Finnian.

"I can't say it any nicer than this.. meat rots faster than you might think," Bardroy's eyebrows furrow in thought and his cigarette sits between his lips. "Even if we turn off the fire now, time will be up before you know it if he stays next to the hearth."

Leah groans at the sound of the words leaving the chef's lips, almost shivering in disgust. However, the feeling of Anna's hand on her head does keep her somewhat calm. Barely.

Irene's face fills with dread as she nearly collapses, trying to grab ahold of Grimsby's coat. "Rot.. you say?"

"Irene!" Grimsby calls out with worry, leaning down to catch her.

"It's like he says," Arthur chimes in, his stance tense as he stares at the two. "I also think it'd be better if we take him to a cool, dark place until an expert can take a look at him."

"Well then, let's move him to the cellar until the yard gets here," Sebastian turns back to look at the gardener. "Finny, bring a stretcher."

It doesn't take Finnian long to jog back into the room with a long stretcher in his arms, lying it across the floor as he and Bardroy lift Georg's lifeless body on top. As the two cover him with a blanket, Leah instead focuses on the stitched flower that now sits on the top of Finnian's hat. 'That is quite cute..'

Looking out the window, Lau listens to the servants exit the room. "But, I'd think the yard won't be showing up for a while," he comments.

Everyone shifts their attention over to the window that Lau stands beside, holding the curtain to give them a better view. Outside, the storm rages and sways the trees, pounding against the glass and making it harder to see.

"Seeing as there is quite the storm?" Lau's brow raises and Ran Mao leans across him to see for herself.

"So you mean we can't leave here either?!" Carl Woodley exclaims in a mixture of anger and nervousness.

"Why do you ask that now?" with a shrug of his shoulders, Lau smiles indifferently. "It's fine right, everyone was meant to stay over anyway."

Woodley releases a noise of annoyance, his brows knitted as he stares down the Chinese man. "Like you can call this fine! I'm not staying at a place where a murder took—"

"Indeed. We surely are on the shores of a deserted island right now," Lau interrupts, his tone chilling. "It also means that there is a good chance that the killer is still inside the mansion."

A loud crackle of thunder flashes atop Phantomhive Manor, ringing out through the halls. But it isn't the sound that makes Leah's hands tighten around Ciel's arms, rather the words of Lau that unnerve her. Even Bardroy and Finnian are uncomfortable with their return to the room.

"Now that you mention it," Charles Grey speaks up. "If you think about it logically, wouldn't the killer be one of us then?"

The guests in the room stiffen, their eyes filled with dread at the thought of being near a potential murderer and not knowing.

"Why us?! This isn't a joke!" Grimsby yells.

"Th.. That's right!" Woodley agrees.

Kneeling, Arthur checks on Patrick who is still lying unconscious on the floor. "Well, first of all, we only just met each other.."

Leah squints her eyes as she observes all of the people in the room, leaning her mouth to her fiancé's ear. "I believe it was that irritating man who kept speaking about diamonds," she whispers.

With a raised brow, Ciel turns his face to Leah's, their noses nearly colliding. "Carl Woodley? What makes you think that?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I just hate irritating people, so I shall point a finger at him."

Ciel releases a sigh as he turns his attention back to the matter at hand, keeping his hand on Leah's shoulder to hold her close. Sometimes he can't comprehend what goes on in that head of hers, but he can't say he hates it.

"So wouldn't it be likely that someone broke in through the window, locked the door to leave time for an escape, and then went back out the window again?" asks Irene, continuing her question that the teenagers weren't listening to.

"But if you came in through this kind of rain.. wouldn't you leave footprints? Not to mention that this room is on the second floor," Charles walks over to the window and pulls on the handle, "and the windows were locked."

Looking off to the side, Grimsby places a hand on his chin. "So.. someone locked it from the hallway and escaped that way after all.." he says lowly.

"That is unlikely."

The sound of Sebastian's voice draws the attention of everyone in the room, looking over at the butler who holds a key in his gloved hand.

"The keys for this mansion all go with the original ward locks from when this mansion was first built. They are complex pieces so it is unlikely that someone other than a craftsman could make an imitation," explains Sebastian. "Furthermore, these keys have all been locked away in a safe. The only copy of the key that opens the safe is in possession of the butler, me. Therefore the keys stored there can't be taken."

Leah stares incredulously as the words fly out of the butler's mouth, trying to prevent herself from looking bored. God forbid she looks suspicious in a time like this.

"Also, in order for it to be locked simply from the inside, other than the ward lock there is also a latch attached to the door. In a situation where the key cannot be taken out of the safe, there is the possibility of locking the room from the inside only," Sebastian makes Leah's eye twitch as he glances around the room as he speaks. "In other words.."

"This is a locked room murder," Lau finishes off Sebastian's sentence with a smirk, his hand stationed loosely on Ran Mao's shoulder.

There is a still in the room as the guests and servants stare in worry, realizing they truly are amongst a murderer. This information doesn't sit lightly though, as everyone is willing to try and prove their innocence.

Woodley speaks up first with wide eyes and sweat dripping down his forehead. "Preposterous.. we're not in a novel!" he exclaims.

"Indeed," chimes in Ciel is a yawn, his hair brushing against Leah's and a bit of her forehead. "If anyone published this kind of crude locked room drama, they'd surely get complaints. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Wordsmith?"

Both Woodley and Arthur perk up in surprise and confusion at Ciel's words before the writer quickly sees what the boy is trying to say.

"That's right.. Surely if you used those.." with a hand to his chin, Arthur stares at the floor in thought.

Lau tilts his head. "What's that?"

"A needle and thread," says Ciel.

"Here I go not knowing anything again," Leah rolls her eyes in annoyance, forgetting that she's often at fault for not understanding what is happening.

Unlike the Barrett's annoyance, the other guests hold confusion in their eyes. There are too many words and discoveries to accurately keep up with new information while balancing their emotions.

"Needle and.. thread?"

"Like Sebastian says, the only way to lock the door is from inside, but if you use a needle and thread you could easily do it from the outside. It works like this.." Ciel takes a deep, quiet breath. "First you jab the needle and thread into the door somewhere to hold the latch in place. Then you pull the thread down under the door and go outside of the room. Finally, if you pull the thread carefully to avoid breaking it and manage to pull out the needle.. the latch will close and you'll be able to lock it!"

Everyone tries to envision Ciel's description in their heads, some understanding while others fail. Anna on the other hand now seems focused on the fact that no slippers are adorning Leah's feet.

"Then if you pull the needle and thread through the crevice under the door, you won't leave any evidence behind either. So with the needle and thread, cleaning up is easy also," despite the serious situation, Ciel's voice lacks emotion. "In mystery novels, it's the oldest trick in the book, not to mention plain and boring. However, the criminal isn't looking to write a mystery novel, of course, it's more like he's trying to create a realistic smoke screen or something."

Lau tilts his head. "That sure does explain the locked room murder but..

"It also means that anyone could be the killer," Arthur finishes with sweat dripping down the side of his face.

Bringing Irene closer to him, Grimsby starts to get defensive. "It definitely wasn't us! It was someone else!" he yells.

"It wasn't me either!" Woodley chimes in. "A.. Amongst all of us, aren't you the most suspicious? You had a fight with the Lord at the buffet, didn't you?!" he points an accusatory finger at Grimsby.

"Don't make false accusations, you old man! Like I'd kill someone over that!" beginning to get aggravated, Grimsby starts shouting. "What about the girl who said she wanted the Lord to die?! She hit him with a glass!" the theatrical producer ignores Irene's calls of his name to now try and throw the blame on Leah.

Both Leah and Anna gasp, though Leah's noise comes from a place of displeasure. If Ciel didn't have his hand wrapped around her so firmly, she would certainly be jumping at Grimsby or Woodley by now.

She nearly stomps her foot to the floor in the manner of a child. "How dare you accuse me! I was merely being dramatic," Leah grumbles.

"You still said it!" Grimsby points a long finger in her direction, not noticing the look she gives him that screams that she wants to rip his face off.

Ciel doesn't appreciate Grimsby or Woodley's tone, his expression darkening. "Don't accuse my fiancé so lightly!" he barks.

"Now, now," Lau cuts in with a troubled shrug of his shoulders. "Let's calm down and hear everyone's alibis, shall we?"

Everyone goes silent in thought, disturbed by the stressed atmosphere of the room. 'They are one to point fingers..' Leah rolls her eyes this time around, feeling the care slip from her body while Anna steps closer to stand against her master.

"Lord Siemens was killed after he had retired to his room. Actually, to be precise, it was between the time that the Lord rang the servant's bell and the time that the butler and co. arrived at his room. If you have an alibi to cover that time, you're safe," explains Lau, observing the guests with closed eyes.

Grimsby is the first to speak up, looking off to the side. "Me and Irene were in the billiards room."

"Yes," Irene nods along with saddened eyes.

Charles raises a hand. "I was in there too."

"So were me and Mr. Phelps," Arthur gestures to the blonde that he kneels beside.

"For the whole time, from the moment that Lord Siemens went to bed up until the disturbance, we were all in there."

They think back to the game of billiards, where everything went normal.

"During that time, no one left their place either."

Turning his head to Lau and Ran Mao, Ciel raises a brow. "What were you two doing?"

"We were drinking in the lounge with Mr. Woodley," Lau raises a hand and tilts his head dismissively. "Weren't we Ran Mao?"

Woodley and Ran Mao both nod along with Lau's words. "Right! We were together the entire time before the commotion started," Woodley remains tense.

"If I remember correctly, after midnight the alcohol ran out and we had the butler fetch us some more right?"

The three think back to themselves sitting in the lounge, drinking away.

"Yes, I brought it to you at around twelve ten," Sebastian confirms.

Attention shifts to the Phantomhive servants who sweat and shake with worry. "U-Us servants were all cleaning up together!" Meyrin has a quiver in her voice.

"Anna was helping me retire for bed," Leah speaks up from her spot as she turns to get a quiet confirmation from her lady's maid.

Eyes shift to Leah, realizing the number of suspects is dwindling. Lucky enough for the girl, she has an alibi. Otherwise, she is beyond suspicious given her behavior earlier in the night. If anything, there is a big red mark on her forehead.

"First and foremost, none of us even knew what room Siemens was staying in," says Grimsby, though he does raise a brow at Leah who may potentially know her way around the manor. "To find him in such a large mansion would take quite some time right?!"

Charles' eyes are trained on the floor. "Which means that.."

All focus shifts to Ciel who stands with wide eyes, but his grip on Leah doesn't falter. 'Should I be moving away..?' Leah questions. What is one meant to do when your betrothed may potentially be a murderer?

"Excuse me for asking Earl, but what were you doing at the time?" asks Lau with a smirk.

Ciel's eyes darken at the question, his hand tightening around Leah's arm and feeling the silk fabric of her robe. "Certainly I'm the only one who hasn't got an alibi, but I don't have any reason to kill the Lord."

"Oh? Is that so?" Charles tilts his head cockily.

"What?" Ciel retaliates with an annoyed glare.

"Well you wouldn't say there was no reason at all now would you?" Lau lowers his head and crosses his arms. "Most of the reasons for someone to kill another are reasons inconceivable to other people. It doesn't matter how many times a genius scientist studies it, the psychology of a person is something that cannot be comprehended by other people."

The rain patters against the glass louder, causing a faint ringing in Leah's ears.

"Besides, your company has a branch in Germany does it not? There could have been some memos outside of the official books with a major bank executive from Germany like him," Lau continues his ideas and brings a hand to his chest. "That's something we don't know anything about though."

Woodley's face hardens.

On the other hand, Ciel brings a hand up to his face in annoyance. "You're suggesting that my Funtom Company has some kind of horrible debt? That's absurd!"

"It's not an unrealistic story, right? No matter how big a company is, there are times when all of it can vanish overnight," the words of Lau begin to upset a specific gardener. Though they confuse Leah more than anything.

Tears prick Finnian's eyes and his voice is filled with protest. "Wai.. Wait a minute! I don't get all the complicated stuff but.. but.. Young Master would never.." his hands are clenched.

"Finny," cutting in, Ciel doesn't bother glancing at the boy. "Enough. Back off."

Staring off with a dejected look, Finnian stands off to the side with his arms at his side. This prompts a look of pity from Leah. It is the first time she's seen the gardener without a smile on his face and frankly, she doesn't like it.

Speaking up through the silence, Charles stands stationed by the window with a gloved hand to his chin. "I'd like some insurance."

"Insurance?" asks Irene.

The white-haired man shifts his eyes up to her. "Insurance that we'll get out of here alive."

Leah and a few others cringe at Charles' words.

"What.." Irene's voice trails off, "do you mean by that?" her brows knit.

"Well, this mansion is currently under the control of a killer, you know? And we can't get out until the storm settles down," the storm rages outside and Charles' face darkens. "What if we were all 'gagged' before the storm settles?"

The face of the guests fill with dread, even sparking a faint reaction from Anna. When they all accepted their invitations, they hadn't anticipated dying the same night.

"Well then.." starts Lau. "Let's confine him!" he says with a smile, holding his finger high.

"Confinement?!"

"Confine the young master?!"

"Confinement?!"

Finnian, Bardroy, and Meyrin don't take Lau's words lightly. The thought unsettles them. They have always been so loyal after all.

"But he's scary.." sighs Lau dramatically.

Releasing a sigh, Ciel looks off tiredly. "If that makes you feel better, go ahead."

"If we're going to confine him, it can't be in his own room," says Charles. "Nobles' rooms generally have some kind of secret built-in escape route built in. My place has them too," he pictures a moving closet that moves and shows a descending staircase.

For the first time in a while, Sebastian's voice can be heard. "Well then, we'll keep an eye on him while attending to his—"

"That won't do," Lau crosses his fingers in an X, "seeing as you might help the Earl escape, right?" the servants are placed under the spotlight at his words.

"So in other words, it'd be best if one of the guests would stay with him and keep watch," Charles moves a hand to explain, looking towards Grimsby.

But this suggestion only prompts Grimsby to tighten his hold on Irene. "No, thank you! Like I'd leave Irene by herself!" he yells loudly.

"I.. I just can't!" Woodley sweats rather cowardly.

Lau has a faint hint of nervousness in his expression as he glances off to the side, Ran Mao pressed against him. "I don't want to either~"

"Well I don't want to either but someone has to do it?" speaks Charles, his face now showing annoyance as seemingly every male in the room refuses.

The room goes silent, only filled with the ambiance of the storm. Women know they can't, nor want to stay in a room with Ciel so it is up to the men. But the men don't want to either, until their eyes fall to Arthur who has yet to speak a word about his stance on the idea.

"So," sneaking up behind the writer, Lau places a hand on his shoulder. "It's up to you, Mr. Wordsmith!"

Jumping in his place with a scream, Arthur turns around to notice Lau who gives a carefree smile. "Wha.. What?!"

"Please watch him carefully so that he doesn't escape."

"B-But.."

"That's right. I have something good stored in my horse carriage," Charles looks up and disrupts the two, pointing to Bardroy and Finnian. "Would you get it for me?"

Ciel and Leah stare at the scene with mild disinterest, acting like the bratty, spoiled children that they are. If it didn't make them look like murderers, they would be expressing it much more openly at the moment.

"It looks like this is where we split up," Ciel glances down at Leah and notes the slight hint of sleepiness in her eyes.

Looking up with a pout, Leah nods and brings a hand up to rub her eye. "I suppose.."

"Sebastian," the Phantomhive calls to his butler. "Escort everyone to their rooms."

"Certainly," Sebastian gives a half bow. "Well then, everyone let me guide you. This way please.."

With reluctance, the guests file out of the room after Sebastian to be taken to their respective rooms. Except for Leah and Anna who already know where they shall go, preparing for the night ahead of them.

— ౨ৎ —

Inside the bedroom originally meant for Leah, Anna is now in her nightwear as well as they attempt to settle in for the night. The weight of Georg Von Siemens' death is heavy. Despite often being insensitive towards other people, Leah can't deny that his death has made her uncomfortable and she can't bring herself to make many comments.

Silence clouds over them, neither having anything to say as they get beneath the covers. But as her head hits the pillow, Leah finally glances over at Anna and observes her face.

Watching her lady's maids expression, Leah gazes into her brown eyes. "You don't look scared," she remarks.

"Hm?" Anna's brows furrow.

"I haven't seen you look scared for even a moment," Leah's voice is low and quiet, "despite the fact that a murderer might be within these very walls."

Anna's facial expression remains steel as she chooses to fluff her pillow, avoiding the teen's eyes. "I am just accustomed to it," she nods along to her words.

Leah perks up at Anna's words. "Did you have a rough upbringing?"

The maid squints her eyes, focusing on her thoughts. Sometimes she doesn't appreciate that Leah is quite chatty with people she actually likes to be around.

"No," replies Anna, her tone rather sharp.

"What is it? You can tell me," Leah tries to reassure the maid, preparing for the struggle she'll deal with to comfort another person.

The maid inhales. "Mistress—"

"Seriously! You can confide in me!" Leah repeats, voice becoming clearer.

For a moment, Anna goes silent and the room is still. Her eyes can't help but soften as Leah stares at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. Anna knows Leah has always struggled emotionally, with herself and others due to emotional neglect, and she's not quite sure if the girl can handle her words.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Anna looks into Leah's blue eyes that sparkle from the room's light source. "It is you," she is straight to the point.

A pout forms on Leah's face, the gears in her head moving but unable to understand what Anna means. "What?"

"You are why I am accustomed to it," the blank expression on Anna's face doesn't help Leah comprehend any better. "That and I have never been one to openly react to things."

"I.." Leah shakes her head softly, her hair rubbing against the pillow. "I don't understand."

Anna takes a deep breath in. "Sometimes you harm people and you don't remember.. so I clean up the mess," her voice doesn't raise above a whisper.

"What? No," Leah shifts to sit straight with her right arm supporting herself. "I don't hurt people!"

"Yes you do," a flash of pity goes across Anna's face, unable to handle the pained and confused expression on Leah's face. "Don't you recall the times that someone has broken into the manor?"

Mouth gaping like a fish, Leah shakes her head incredulously. "Yes, but Thomas took care of that!"

"You took care of it," Anna corrects. "You only ever remember the beginning and the end. Someone intrudes, you lose yourself and attack them, then you calm down and Thomas claims he did it, and I clean you up," her voice trembles.

Tears well up in Leah's eyes, her head beginning to hurt. "No! Thomas says—"

"Thomas lies!" Anna's voice raises. "I have seen you kill people with my own two eyes, you are the one who does it. He just wants to protect you the same way I have. That is why I never mention it."

Shoving her head into her hands, Leah shakes her head profusely. 'I don't remember..' Her face begins to heat up. 'It wasn't me!' Leah's hands twitch against her skin as her breaths struggle to steady themselves.

"I don't remember!"

— ౨ৎ —

Cold air filled the night. It was late and everyone in the house lay in their beds, hoping for sleep to overcome them. But for poor Leah Barrett, that seemed impossible when she heard the sudden sound of glass shattering in the distance.

She stumbled out of her bed and opened her door with a creak, turning her head every which way to see if she could notice anything. When she didn't, she stepped out and stood in the middle of the hallway, waiting to see if she could notice a servant exiting a room.

Only more uncomfortable noises sounded from down the hall, prompting Leah to walk closer. Had Thomas been there, he would have easily guided Leah back to her bed. But it isn't that simple.

Turning a corner, her eyes fell onto a group of men whispering loudly, weapons tightly clenched in their hands. After that, the memory begins to distort.

A blur.

Everything is a blur.

Down to her rigid movements and the sounds of screams, or the slippery feeling of the crimson liquid that dripped on her body, Leah can't seem to clearly remember a single thing. All she can see are small, blurred flashes of things she cannot make out.

The scene changes, her head throbbing.

"It is just me, My Lady," Thomas' voice rang out in her head, echoing against the walls.

Leah's eyebrows furrowed as she opened and closed her hand, toying with the blood that drenched it. "Thomas? What happened?" she asked, feeling disoriented.

"Someone broke in," he knelt to her spot on the cold floor. "But do not worry.. I took care of it," his voice was filled with sheer lies as he stared at the girl in fascination.

Thomas lies.

Of course he lies.. he isn't human.

The faces in her head are unclear and she now standing bare in the bathroom. Leah looked down and noticed small patches of blood that covered her lower body, but it was nothing compared to her hands and face.

"I'll get you all clean and then you can settle in for bed," Anna mumbled, guiding her over to the bathtub.

Leah opened her mouth to speak but no words left, the memory slowly beginning to fade out.

— ౨ৎ —

"No," Leah shakes her head and tightly grips her hair. "No!"

"Mistress—" Anna starts, reaching out for her.

Lifting her head from her hands, Leah stares at Anna with wide, glazed-over eyes. "Do you think I murdered that man?" her voice wavers.

"No!" taking ahold of Leah's hand, Anna grips it tightly and locks eyes with the girl. "You couldn't have!"

Leah's hand twitches in Anna's hold. "But you said I don't remember when I do it.. I don't remember!" she bites down on her lips in an attempt to hold in her tears.

Eyes full of guilt, Anna regrets ever speaking in the first place. "I was with you the entire time, you never left my sight. It is impossible for you to have done it," she brings her hands up to Leah's face.

"I am a murderer.." the teen whispers.

Anna's breath catches in her throat, pulling Leah in for a hug. "You were protecting yourself."

With dull eyes, Leah's head collides with Anna's chest as she chooses to stare at a wall, struggling to comprehend this information being thrown at her. 'Why can't I be normal?' She bites down on her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood.

"But I am still a murderer," Leah retorts, her lips moving against Anna's nightgown. "It was those sword lessons, wasn't it? Is this all my mother's fault? They always made me feel barbaric.."

Unable to think of a counterargument, Anna simply runs her hand through Leah's hair. She lowers the both of them until they lay side by side, keeping the girl held tightly against her despite the initial desire to pull away at the feeling of the teen's cold skin.

"Forget I ever said anything.." whispers Anna. She can only hope it works, though the likelihood is low.

Lifting her head, Leah can't see Anna's face to show her confused frown. "But—"

Anna cuts the girl off by gently shushing her, laying her head atop Leah's in an attempt to comfort her.

"Just go to sleep, Mistress."

[kingluffy5]

Playing Detectives Pt 7 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

After investigating the Gates’ mansion Wednesday finds herself more alone then ever and Y/N contemplates how much he can trust those around him and how much they trust him, when Mayor Walker thinks he’s cracked the case he’s suddenly hit by a car, and after putting her friends in danger the Sheriff has forbidden Wednesday from investigating the case.

Last night in the hospital someone killed Mayor Walker, pulled out his breathing tube thingies, and I would bet my life on the theory of the person who ran him over was the one who killed him. Now everyone is in attendance at his funeral. It’s raining, me and Wednesday are sharing a black umbrella. Despite our fight it’s not my place to be mad at or to forgive her, it’s Enid and Tyler’s, we’re in a mature healthy relationship so we don’t fight over petty stuff like this. And also despite our fight we have a case to solve and a monster to hunt down, my chest still hurts from the wounds the monster gave me, but Wends’ stitches are holding up alright. During the night Wednesday discovered a music box that belonged to Laurel Gates which contained many pictures of her, I’m not saying I want a stalker taking pictures of me but it feels kind of inconsiderate that only she got stalked.

Me and Wends look over across all the people here, all the potential suspects. Bianca and the mayors son share some glances and Ajax is there for Enid, the Sheriff and his son look at each other.

All of a sudden a shadowy figure is hiding behind some trees, he runs off and me and Wednesday share a quick glance before we run after him through the trees. We lose sight of him and slow down, he then drops down behind us and Wednesday grabs the sword hidden in her umbrella and jabs it towards him.

He then holds the blade between the palms of his hands and he sends an electric shock through it causing Wednesday to quickly drop the sword.

“Still as sharp as ever, my pig-tailed protégé.” The man says, wait what, he knows Wends.

“Uncle Fester.” She says as she gives him a big smile. I’m sorry Uncle who now.

The man takes off his hat to reveal an incredibly bald head.

“Uh, hi.” I greet him.

“Who is this?” He asks.

“Y/N Barron, Wednesday’s partner.” I answer.

“Barron, oh I’ve met a few of you in my lifetime, whenever one’s around you know it’s going to be a good time. And might I inquire what kind of partner you are to Wednesday?”

“A few different kinds.” I answer causing him to laugh a little.

We start to walk through the foggy forest.

“How long have you been stalking me?” She asks.

“Just blew into town this morning and was hit by a wave of nostalgia.”

“I thought you didn’t go to Nevermore.”

“I didn’t. Your dad got all the brains, but I used to drop in on him. Usually from the ceiling with a dagger clutched between my teeth, just to keep him on his toes.”

“Of course.”

“He filled me in on what’s been going on. Monsters, murder, mayhem. What fun! I told him I had a job in Boston, but I’d be checking up on you.”

“What kind of job?”

“The kind that means that I need a place to lay low for a couple of days.” I love Wednesday’s family more every time I meet them.

Me and Wednesday take him over to the bee hives.

“This place belongs to a friend.” She informs Fester.

“You actually made multiple friends. That poor kid will be going home in a body bag.” Wednesday looks down in guilt and I do the same. “I like a hideout that comes with snacks.”

“Those bees are hibernating.” I tell him.

“They’re practically Eugene’s children.” Wednesday says.

Fester opens one of the hives to try and get one.

“That means do not eat them!” She yells at him.

He looks disappointed but puts it back while Wednesday glares at him.

“You know, when you give me that death stare, you remind me of your mother. Speaking of scary things, you know what kind of monster you two are dealing with?” Alright that was just hilarious.

“We haven’t been able to identify it.” Wends says as she shows him the drawing of it.

“It’s called a Hyde.” He says handing back the paper.

“As in Jekyll and Hyde?” I question.

“Hm-mmm.” He confirms.

“You’ve seen one before?” Wednesday asks.

“Oh yeah. In ‘83, during my vacay at the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane. Where I got my first lobotomy. But you know lobotomies. They’re like tattoos. Can’t just get one.”

“Tell us about the Hyde.” She cuts him off.

“Ah. Olga Malacova. Jeez, she had it all. Beauty, brains, and a penchant for necrophilia. Olga was a concert pianist, until one night she transformed in the middle of a Chopin sonata. Massacred a dozen audience members, and three music critics.”

“What triggered her? Or did she just change on her own?”

“No idea. I only saw her in group electro-shock therapy.”

“There’s never been any mention of Hydes in any outcast book. And Nevermore is reputed for having the best collection.” I point out.

“You guys try Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary?” He asks us. “Before he founded Nevermore Faulkner traveled the world, cataloging every outcast community.”

“How do you know this?” Wends asks him.

“You think your parents can’t keep their hands off each other now, oy vey. I showed up unannounced one night in Gomez’s dorm room. Let’s just say I wasn’t interrupting a pillow fight.” NO NO NO NO NO, I did not need to hear that now, I did not need to hear that ever, I need to pour bleach into my ear later so that way it will wipe this memory from my brain.

“Uncle Fester. The diary, where is it.”

“The Nightshade’s Library. Your dad parked me there and said I should settle in for a long stretch. And that’s when I found this nifty little safe, I was hoping for a stash of cash or jewels but instead I found a diary.”

“We’l sneak into the Nightshades Library tonight. In the meantime lay low. If you are discovered I will disown you and collect the reward tied to your capture.” Wednesday warns him as we turn to leave.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

After a second Wednesday barges back into the shed and shout at him to leave the bees alone.

— — —

Apparently Enid went to go find something from their room while she’s bunking with Yoko and they got into an argument, she ended up saying that Wednesday endangers everyone that she comes into contact with, which is honestly kind of true.

We are currently heading down into the Nightshade’s Library.

“Uncle Fester?”

“Who’s uncle Fester?” Xavier says appearing from the shadows.

“What are you doing here?”

“Since I’m an actual Nightshade, I don’t have to explain myself. What’s your excuse for creeping around in the middle of the night.”

“Research.”

“On the monster? I’ll save you two some time. There’s nothing in here matching that thing.”

“Isn’t that convenient.” Wednesday says.

“You know what your problem is Wednesday?”

“I would love to hear your piercing insight.”

“You don’t know who your real friends are. I’ve been on your side since day one. I literally saved your life. I believed your theories when nobody else did. And what do I get in return? Just nothing but suspicion and lies.”

“Fine you want honesty? Here it is. Every time the monster’s attacked, you’ve been right there. Starting with Rowan at the Harvest Fest. Then on Outreach day, you arrived just minutes after the monster disappeared, yet you say you didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t realize proximity was a crime.”

“Then there’s your drawing obsession. You have drawn the monster dozens of times yet you’ve never seen it. Or so you claim. You even drew where it lived. Then when Y/N and Eugene went to investigate, you tried to kill them so they wouldn’t spill your secrets.”

“You think I would hurt Eugene? Y/N, you think I would try to kill you?” He asks us, I remain quiet, I haven’t know what to believe over the past few days.

“Let’s not forget your oh-so-convenient appearance after Y/N and Tyler had been attacked at the Gates mansion.”

“If I am the monster then why haven’t I killed you?”

“Because for some reason I cannot fathom or indulge you seem to like me.”

“What’s to like?” He says.

“Dude just back off, she doesn’t owe you blind faith, she deserves to think for herself about who she trusts.” I tell him.

“And your problem, your a psycho. Be honest here, your not trying to stop this monster to avenge it’s victims or to bring peace of mind to their families, you’re just bored and want something interesting to do. You have no empathy, you don’t care about anyone, you are just as heartless as that monster.” He tells me.

This may have started as me being bored, but after Eugene got attacked this was personal. I care about him, he’s my best friend, I care about Wednesday and I don’t want to see her be the monster’s next victim.

Wednesday looks angrier then I’ve ever seen her. “He has to go through more pain then you will ever know.” She says spitefully, her words laced with venom and I smile at her.

She could be talking about my panic attacks, or she could be talking about her vision of me, what did she see, what was so bad that it would garner this kind of a reaction. I’m glad she defended me though, it’s nice to remember that she likes me too despite not showing it much.

With that Xavier leaves and Fester jumps down behind us.

“How long have you been lurking?” Wends asks him.

“Long enough to feel the tension between you guys. Yowza. Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner’s axe.”

Thing comes into the room and Fester hears him. “I’d recognize the patter of those fingertips anywhere. Hello Thing.” Thing taps angrily at him.

“You can’t still be mad about the Kalamazoo job. It wasn’t my fault.” With that Thing lunges at Fester and starts to choke him. “ You said you could crack that safe in 30 seconds. Five minutes later we were still standing there, you’re all thumbs.”

“Enough.” Wednesday says commandingly like a mother breaking up two kids. “Let him go. Show me the diary.”

Fester walks us over to a portrait of Ignatius Itt

“Here it is. Iggy was Faulkner’s right hand. Trained a generation of Nightshades. And behind Iggy Itt.”

“Wait you guys know Ignatius Itt?” I ask them.

“He’s my cousin.” Fester answers. Ok, cool, perfectly normal that my girlfriend is actually related to my personal hero, not like I am freaking out right now. Maybe Wends can introduce us.

“Do I have time for a snooze, or can you crack this quickly?” Fester remarks as Thing begins to try and crack the safe.

After a few times Fester says that this is turning into a replay of Kalamazoo. Finally he opens the safe revealing the diary.

— — —

We make our way back to Wednesday’s room as Wednesday begins to look through the journal.

“These are some sweet diggs. How’d you swing your own single?” Fester asks her.

“My former roommate couldn’t handle my toxic personality.”

She finally lands on the page about Hydes. “Faulkner describes Hydes as artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis. This causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator who the creature now sees as its master. It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose.”

“Artist by nature, doesn’t that sound like someone we know?”

“Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next-level sicko.” Fester says.

“That means we’re not looking for one killer but two.” I point out.

“The monster and its master.” Wednesday says.

Someone knocks on the door, me and Fester go to hide in Enid’s pile of stuffed animals.

Ms. Thornhill walks in and begins to talk with Wednesday about how Enid is going to room with Yoko for the rest of the year, how she cares about Enid, how she’s becoming a better person, and that she clearly misses Enid. Stuff like that.

“Uncle Fester, Y/N.” She shouts looking for us, he accidentally knocks over one of the plushies causing Wednesday to walk over and uncovers us.

“Hey! Being a solo lobo has its perks. You get to live by your own rules, do whatever you want. Just look at me.”

— — —

We went to Xavier’s shed.

While Wednesday distracted him me and Fester put a tracker on his bike.

“Did you two place the tracker?” Wends asks us.

“Don’t worry we got you covered.” Fester answers, handing her the device to track Xavier.

“Okay. Let’s hit the road.”

We walk over to the transportation Fester has arranged for us and reveals it to be a dog walking company’s motorbike with a Dalmatian pattern. We look at him for a few seconds.

“What? I picked it up on my way out of town. You know me. I like to travel incognito.” He hands us a couple of helmets with a matching pattern.

Fester drives the bike as Wends sits in the passenger car and I hold onto his back.

We follow Xavier to a secluded spot by the lake where a car is waiting.

Dr. Kinbott’s car. Kinbott’s the master.

— — —

Me and Wednesday go to Weems’ office to tell her about the doctor.

“Principal Weems, it is imperative we speak with you about Dr. Kinbott.”

“Wednesday, Y/N. We were just talking about you.”

“Speak of the devil.” Kinbott says behind us with a tray of tea.

“And she shall appear.” Wednesday says.

“Dr. Kinbott was just discussing your assessment Wednesday. I need to sign off on it before she can send it to court.”

“Well, what’s the verdict, Doctor? Am I cured?” She asks Kinbott.

“I’m glad you find it amusing. The judge assigned to your case won’t.”

“I’ve explained to Dr. Kinbott that you’ve recently been taking small but meaningful steps towards embracing your new Nevermore family.”

“Yes, I think I’ve actually reached the half-hug stage. I’ve been reading about hypnotherapy. It might be a good technique to unlock my inner Wednesday. Are you a devotee?” Babe I love you, but dropping hints that we know that a serial killer is a serial killer isn’t the smartest move.

“Yes, very much so. I applaud your new willingness to delve deep into yourself. We see each other on Monday, we can start then.”

“What did you so urgently need to discuss?” Weems asks us.

“It can wait, now if you excuse us we have homework to finish.”

— — —

Me, Wends, and Fester sit in the Weathervane to discuss our approach.

“Kinbott has to be Xavier’s master. The Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis.” I say.

Fester starts, I don’t know how to say it, drinking, chugging, slurping, the ketchup.

“Are you listening? She must’ve figured out he’s a Hyde and used hypnotherapy to unlock him. That would explain their secret sessions.” Wends says.

“I think the kid behind the counter has clocked me. Yeah, he’s walking over. I’m going to put him in a Romanian sleeper hold. Cover me.” Fester says referring to Tyler. Oh dear god, I would love to see that.

“Relax. He’s not interested in you.” Wednesday tells him. Cmon Wends, it would only have been a few seconds worth of Fester choking out Tyler.

“Uh, made you a quad. On the house.”

“Hey, thanks kid. Need a refill on this puppy too.” Fester thanks him. This man is my idol.

“Tyler, this is my uncle Fester.” Wends introduces right when Tyler started looking confused.

“Oh uh. Hi nice to meet. Ow!” He shouts as Fester zaps him chuckling.

“Is that?” Tyler asks recognizing the monster from when it attacked us.

“It’s called a Hyde.”

“That’s it, from that night.”

“Your father gave you explicit instructions not to be near me.” Wednesday tells him.

“Yeah, my dad’s not here and I’m on my break.”

“Well, apparently a Hyde needs to be unlocked by someone. It’s master.”

“Holy shit.”

“Tyler! What did I say?” The sheriff shouts from the entrance way as Fester disappears again.

“Uh. For the record Wednesday was trying to keep a distance. I was the one that sat down with her and Y/N.”

“All right. Putting these up around town. It’s a bank robbery suspect and he’s a real creep.” He says handing us a wanted poster of Fester. “You haven’t seen him have you?”

“No.” Wends says.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty hard to miss.” Tyler chuckles. “I’ll pin it on the bulletin board.”

“Barron, how’re the stitches holding up?” He asks me.

“They’re alright Sheriff.” I tell him.

The sheriff shakes his head at Wednesday before turning to leave. “Why do I waste my breath.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah your family’s very colorful.”

“Ironic considering Fester’s the black sheep. He’s harmless.”

“So about rescheduling our date.” I’m sorry, what?

“Between the monster and my uncle.” Yeah she’s busy, she doesn’t have time for dates, believe me.

“Hey, no excuses. Figure after what happened last time, you owe me.” That entire sentence was just one big red flag. Plus you got off light compared to me.

“I can’t sneak off of campus. All eyes are on me.”

“You won’t have to, I’ll come to you. 9:00 p.m., Crackstone’s Crypt.”

After that he goes back to work and me and Wends leave to head back to Nevermore.

“I don’t have to go.” She tells me.

“I know but I think you should go.” I tell her despite hating the idea.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know we’re pretty certain that Xavier’s the Hyde but until we’re one hundred percent sure, we shouldn’t rule out anybody else. I don’t trust Tyler and if we make him think you actually like him then we can keep him from knowing we suspect him. I reason.

She smiles the tiniest smile ever at that. “I knew there was a reason I picked you as my partner, for the case and for life.”

“And believe me Wednesday Addams, when this case is over I will take you on a lovely picnic date in a cemetery.” I tell her, causing her smile to grow.

— — —

While Wednesday is on her “date” Me and Thing are going to watch over the diary.

We are sitting around talking about random stuff, favorite movies, favorite books, opinions on Mondays.

“Look, I understand that you enjoy the consistency of hatred that Monday provides but I personally only find comfort in knowing a grumpy orange cat that enjoys lasagna agrees with me.”

Me and Thing argue a bit more before I go out to get a breath of fresh air.

I wonder how Wednesday’s manipulation of Tyler is going right now. Why did I suggest this plan, it’s stupid, damn it.

Suddenly the door swings open and a hooded figure barges in, before I can reach for my sword they stab me in my back several times and I feel a sudden pain in my head before everything goes black.

— — —

I wake up in the bee shed. Me and Thing are lying on the table both of us seemingly having just woken up. Wednesday seems like she’s about to cry and Fester is standing over us having used his shock powers to save us.

“For a minute we thought you picked your last lock buddy.” Fester tells Thing.

“Who did this to you two?” She asked us.

“They covered their face, it was my own fault, I didn’t keep my sword with me.” I answer.

“Cowards.” Wednesday spits. “I promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. An dit will be slow, long, and excruciatingly painful.”

Thing and Wednesday pinky promise on that before we do the same.

“I’ll stitch you two back up. They found your motorbike so the sheriff wont be far. You need to go.” She says getting up. “Maybe next time steal something a little less conspicuous.”

“Where’s the fun in that? All right I’ll lay low here tonight, keep an eye on Thing, and I’ll skedaddle in the morning.”

“I guess I’ll see you at your arraignment or the next family reunion.”

“You’ll always be my favorite Wednesday.”

“Be sure to tell Pugsley that. It’ll give him a complex.”

While she stitches the wounds on my back she notices my frown. “You’re sulking, more then usual.”

“Scars on someone’s back are their shame.” I answer.

After saying that she kneels in front of me. “I promise I will give whoever did this much worse.”

“I am sure you will.” I say smiling. We kiss and she goes back to stitching me up.

— — —

After stitching me and Thing up Wends went to go report her room being ransacked to Weems.

Turns out she knew of the monster being a Hyde and revealed that they were banned from Nevermore 30 years ago and that she didn’t tell the Sheriff to protect Nevermore. The two of them argued, noting really different from every other interaction they have.

We are now walking to our next class when Bianca walks up to us.

“Come with me. I have information about Mayor Walker’s murder.”

We walk with her down to the Nightshade’s library to find the Mayor’s son handing us some papers.

“Printed these off of my dad’s computer. Seems he was trying to track down someone. Laurel Gates? Looks like he started right after Outreach Day.”

“Must have recognized her there.” I remark.

“According to British police Laurel was presumed drowned, but no body was ever recovered.”

We look through the files.

“The gates mansion was purchased a year ago by a 90-year-old candy heiress. She then mysteriously died and gave all her belongings to her caregiver, Teresa L. Glau. It’s and anagram for Laurel Gates.”

“Laurel secretly buys her old house and then comes back to Jericho as someone else. Why?” Bianca questions.

“Revenge on all the people she blames for her family’s misfortunes. Your father. The coroner. My parents. Most of all, Nevermore.”

“How exactly does the monster fit into all this?” Bianca asks.

“The monster is a Hyde and it’s doing Laurel’s bidding. She controls it.” I answer.

“You know who Laurel is, don’t you?” The Mayor’s kid, Lucas that was his name, that was really bugging me shit, gotta remember that next time.

“Yes, but the real question is how are we going to get her to see us?” Wednesday asks.

“I may have an idea.” I respond.

— — —

“I’m sorry, you two want couple’s counseling?” Kinbott asks.

“Yes, despite how perfect it may seem our relationship has a few problems.” I say.

“Um. Okay, sit down, I guess. What seems to be the problems?” She asks us.

“He doesn’t appreciate my cello playing.” Wednesday said quickly. Okay I asked her one time through factime on Enid’s phone to keep it down because I was trying to sleep.

“She forgot to feed my pets the one time I asked her to.” I retort.

“He has an unhealthy obsession with anime.” She says. Unhealthy is a strong word, do I watch a lot of it yes, does it take up most of my time, yes, do I sometimes ignore other tasks to watch it, yes. Alright I might actually have a problem.

“She doesn’t tell me everything that I need to know.” This gets her attention.

“What?” She asks.

“The night Rowan died, when you touched my hand you had a vision. What was the vision Wends?” I ask her.

“It was nothing important, can we get back to our plan?” She asks referring to our plan to lure Dr. Kinbott into a false sense of security and tricking her into confessing.

“No, it’s about me isn’t it? What did you see?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Bullshit. What was it that has you so rattled that not even you are willing to tell me?”

“It wasn’t anything!”

“What was it Wednesday!”

“You’re going to die!” She reveals.

“What?” I ask hoping I misheard her.

“You die fighting the Hyde.” She says again.

I remain silent for a moment before sitting back down. “Ok.” I simply said.

“Aren’t you scared or angry?” Wends asks me.

“No, not really, I mean, I’d rather die fighting then being killed without putting up a fight. Besides I never really believed in fate or destiny to begin with, and if it comes down to a fight between me and the Hyde, I think I’d win, I got great swordsmanship skills and now that we’ve narrowed down our list of suspects then we can stop them before they kill me.” I explain. Honestly even if I die fighting, it’d be good to know that I died protecting everyone I care about and that I’d die as a hero.

“I think this is a little above of my pay grade.” Kinbott says nervously. Understandable, not every day you find out a teenager standing right in front of you is destined to die a horrible, brutal death. Also she probably wants to remain as far away from anything involving the Hyde since it was her who awakened it.

Wednesday gets up looking angry. “This is your fault to begin with. We know you’re Laurel Gates, we found this in your childhood bedroom.” She says handing her the music box from her bag. “You’ve come back to Jericho to seek your revenge. And so did Mayor Walker, which is why you had to kill him. Who better to slide in and out of the hospital undetected than a psychiatrist under the guise of visiting another patient?”

“Wends, what happened to the plan?” I ask. She really has a problem with just explaining to our suspects that we know that they might be killers.

“You’re not actually accusing me of murdering the mayor?”

“The roses you left in Eugene’s room were your mistake. They’re the same variety I found near your childhood bed.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“There’s only one reason an overqualified psychiatrist like yourself would settle in the inconsequential backwater that is Jericho. It allowed you to crawl through the troubled, young minds of outcasts until you found one that you can manipulate to exact your revenge.”

“You know what. I don’t have time to deal with your delusional fantasies. I have a patient emergency.”

“Who? Xavier?” I ask.

“We know all about the secret sessions you’ve been holding in your car. I also found the cave where you’ve been holding sessions to unlock his Hyde.”

“And even if you guys aren’t the killers, it’d still be kind of weird that you hold sessions in your car.” I point out.

“You are so out of line.” She tells us.

“Do you know hoe violently unpredictable a Hyde can be? It was your plan to have Xavier committed before he could turn on you too.”

“Wednesday, Y/N, you two need help. More help than I can give you.”

She reaches for her phone. “Who you calling? Xavier?” Wends asks.

“Judge Reynolds. I’m going to recommend that you two stay in a juvenile psychiatric facility for observation.”

“Oh, please. We all know that we’d be running that place in a week.” Wednesday says. “Times up Laurel.”

We both leave the office.

— — —

Me, Wednesday, and Weems are sitting in the Jericho ER. Turns out Kinbott just got attacked by the Hyde while calling Weems to talk about our recent visit to her office.

The Sheriff comes out of the room and walks up to us.

“She’s gone. Dr. Kinbott’s dead.” He tells us.

“This ends now.” Wednesday says dramatically.

We both leave the hospital.

— — —

We both go to Xavier’s art shed with an ambush planned. Wends waits inside for Xavier while I hide outside with the cavalry.

We can hear faint talking inside when Xavier goes inside as he and Wednesday argue about the case.

The Sheriff and I barge in seeing Xavier holding a knife.

“Freeze. Drop the knife. Down on your knees.” He says arresting Xavier. “Cuff him. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you. Appreciate the help Addams, Barron.

“You framed me! I shoulda let Rowan kill you.” He shouts at us as he gets dragged out by the cops.

— — —

Me and Wends go back to her room to find Enid putting all her stuff back.

“Hey.” She greets us.

“You’re back.” Wednesday says.

“I’m gone for a few days, the place gets trashed, and Thing and Y/N almost die. Someone’s gotta look out for you guys.”

“What happened to rooming with Yoko?” Wednesday asks.

“Yoko’s great. I just decided I needed a few more boundaries.”

Enid starts to put down a line of tape to separate the room in half which is apparently something they’ve been doing.

“Skip the tape.” Wednesday tells her.

“Don’t tell me Wednesday Addams is mellowing out.”

“Never. More like evolving.”

“Well, one inch of duct tape at a time.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because we work. We shouldn’t but we do. It’s like some sort of weird, friendship anomaly. Everything you’ve said about me is true. But I don’t apologize for it not anymore. It’s just who I am.”

“Thing said he missed you.”

“I missed him to. I’m sorry about Xavier.”

“We’re not. He’s a liar and a killer.” Wednesday says

“Besides there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right.” I say as me and Wends smirk at each other.

“OMG, I ship you two so hard. I was honestly expecting you to get with Tyler at first but you two just work so well together.” Oh shit, right, Tyler.

“I still need to tell him about us and how he and I won’t be together.” Wednesday says.

“Well I heard he’s working the late shift.” Enid says.

“Alright, you go talk to Tyler, and I’ll leave so you guys can catch up.” I say before leaving.

— — —

I make it back to my room. I feed my pets. I lay down on my bed.

I look over to Eugene’s empty one. “We got him buddy. I can’t wait for you to come back.”

I start to contemplate the future. Now that the case is over me and Wednesday can go on a few dates, the Nevermore Hummers can get back to it’s usual routine when Eugene get’s back, Wednesday’s made peace with both Enid and Bianca. Everything feels perfect. It’s never felt this way before. Why does it feel like this won’t last, I’m probably just being paranoid but it feels like there’s one piece missing.

Suddenly I get a text from Enid, or at least Wednesday using Enid’s phone. When I read it I’m shocked, it makes so much sense yet I can’t believe it.

Tyler’s the Hyde.

[gyorklady]

Another little Candela fic teaser

This is from another potentially longer story I’m writing, set between “The Antiquarian” and “Guardian of Groundswell”. I’ll probably end up fleshing out/putting my own spin on the Grimms’ reveal.

The low murmur of voices washed over Cosmo, gently coaxing him back to consciousness. There were two of them, both females, and it took his muddled mind a moment to recognize that they belonged to Elsie and Miss Glask. The air smelled faintly of perfume, not the familiar mustiness of old books that permeated his shop and their chapter house. He shifted slightly, only to groan in pain as the movement tugged at stitches and bandages.

“Cosmo?” There was a rustle of movement nearby, then Cosmo felt a gentle hand on his arm. “Cosmo, can you hear me? Get Oscar; I think he’s waking up.” Cosmo heard an affirmative answer from Cordelia as he opened his eyes and found Elsie looking down at him anxiously.

“Elsie?” he murmured. As his gaze darted around the room, Cosmo realized that he didn’t recognize his surroundings. “What- what happened? Where are we?”

“The Glass Cat,” Elsie responded in reverse order. “Nokari sent us back here temporarily, after we completed our mission at Grayslate.”

Cosmo sucked in a breath as the fog finally cleared from his mind and his memory returned: entering the Oldfairen ruins underneath the asylum...attacking and being attacked by the Great Maw…seeing the Serious Man for the first time since he was a child and hearing Oscar beg for the man to be spared, in the hopes of finally obtaining answers…revealing to Elsie and Miss Glask the true relationship between Oscar and himself. “That man…from the ruins,” he said urgently, looking at Elsie. “Where is he? Is he still alive?”

“He’s at the Antiquarian; Nokari and others from Candela are stabilizing him there,” she answered. With some difficulty Cosmo managed to pull himself up, grimacing as the bite wounds from the Maw twinged sharply in pain again. “Cosmo, no! You need to stay in bed; you need your rest!” Elsie reached out, trying to keep him from getting out of bed. Cosmo struggled against her, but his strength flagged quickly.

The door to Cosmo’s sickroom flew open and Oscar strode in. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Stunned at his father’s sharp tone and worn out from his brief tussle with Elsie, Cosmo fell back onto the pillow.

“Oscar…the Serious Man…” Cosmo managed to gasp as he struggled to catch his breath. He barely noticed Elsie checking his pulse, or when she stacked some pillows behind him so that he could sit up. “Can’t let…Candela take him to the…Pharos. Not before we…”

“We’ll get our chance,” Oscar told him. “Nokari’s promised to let us know when he’s strong enough, then we’ll be able to interrogate him. But he’s not the only one that needs to recover,” he added with a pointed Look at his son. Lowering his voice, Oscar sat down on the edge of Cosmo’s bed. “Damnit, you scared the hell out of me, son. I thought I told you to stay behind me if there was any danger. I’d already lost enough that night; I didn’t need to lose you, too.”

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Through the Grapevine P.2

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Part 1 here

Author's Note: Sorry for the long hiatus, I had like no motivation and so many ideas. Idk if I'm back but enjoy this mini-fic 😊

Summary: After meeting Frankie you can't stop thinking about him, so you drive by his shop for an oil change of course. 18+ minors dni

Warnings: oral (m. receiving), slight stalkery behavior, age gap (dealer's choice how big), unabashed debauchery.

Word Count: 1.7k

You were waiting for something to go wrong in your car and for once it’s fine. You can’t just show up to the shop with a perfectly fine car. And asking for Frankie like you’re friends, he could turn you away and the potential embarrassment is enough to stop that plan.

Did he even want to see you again? He did say that you were more than a little young for him, not to mention the fact that your parents are dating. But he did eat you out like a man that just got out of prison. Before you could stop yourself you look up the address of the auto shop, you could drive by to see if they’re busy. 

Before you know it you’re pulling into the lot, you decide to use the excuse of needing an oil change. Which turns out to be a good one because you can’t remember the last time it was done. Walking into the lobby you see a vacant front desk, after looking around you deduce that everyone must be busy already. Although tempted to walk right back out, you take a seat on one of the lounge chairs and scroll through your phone.

“Sorry for the wait, we're a little backed up today. How can I help ya?” A blonde man with a buzzcut asks you while using a cloth to wipe his hands. You look at the name stitched onto his uniform ‘Will’. Will’s blue eyes both unnerve and amaze you.

“It’s fine um, Frankie said he could change my oil today?” You move to meet him as he goes behind the counter to check their schedule. Although he nods he looks a little confused since you're not in the line up. 

With furrowed brows Will excuses himself, and leaves you at the counter to go through the back doors towards Frankie’s office. He knocks before he enters seeing Fish doing paperwork. “Hey man there’s a girl out there sayin’ you said you’d squeeze her in for an oil change today.” 

Frankie looks up at Will with a scrunched face, confusion clear on his face. “Who?”

“I didn’t get a name Fish. I thought I’d check in with you first cause she called you by name.”

“What does she look like?” Frankie couldn’t recall personally telling anyone he’d do their oil change. Ever. As Will begins describing you to Frankie, he puts his head in his hands and laughs but it’s devoid of humor. 

Will halts his sentence to ask, “So you do know her?” 

Frankie gets up from his chair fixing Will’s confused stare with a self assured smile. “Yeah. I’ll take care of her.” 

When Will comes back with Frankie, he looks just as good as the first time you saw him. Maybe even better. His uniform was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving his white shirt underneath riddled with stains. His arms had oil marks on them as well bringing attention to his softened muscles. His staple hat was backwards, matting his chocolate curls to his forehead. 

You see the recognition in Frankie's crinkled eyes. His eyes narrow intently staring at you, probably wondering why you’re at his job. His eyes travel down your body while his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He couldn’t stop thinking about you these past couple weeks, he almost caved first and asked his dad about you. 

“Good news, Frankie said he could squeeze you in but I gotta get back.” Will smiles before heading back over to the garage. 

“You’re just insatiable aren’t you?” Frankie looks at you knowing exactly why you’re here but he’s just as excited as you are. He sees you lean forward against the counter giving him a nice view down your v-neck. 

“How could I not be?” You question with hooded eyes. Frankie has to admit that your persistence is both sexy and annoying. 

As much as he loves the back and forth banter with you, it could continue back in his office. When he grabs your hand to guide you through the back you can’t stop the cheesy smile taking over your face. His office is about as messy as you expect it to be with a comfy couch in the corner stocked with blankets. 

“Don’t tell me you sleep here.” You turn to chastise Frankie as he leans against his desk.

“Sometimes I do but it’s mostly for my daughter.” His response has you snaking your arms around his neck. “You wanna tell me why you’re here? I know it’s not for a fucking oil change.” His hands glide over your body until he rested them on your hips, squeezing.

“Actually I could use one since I can’t remember the last time it was done.” You sheepishly admit. The searing gaze he puts you under should intimidate you, yet you can’t help but clench your thighs together. 

Thinking that he’s moved on you feel him rub his hands all over your jean clad ass bringing you closer than before. You slowly bring your lips closer to his intending to close the last bit of distance between you. That is until you feel a burning sensation on your right cheek, quickly realizing that he just fucking spanked you. You rear back from him giving him an incredulous stare unable to believe he actually spanked you. His proud smirk makes you even more angry.

“Frank-” your soon to be tirade was cut off by Frankie lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You instantly melt into it, craving everything he can give you. Neither of you waste time, his hands pull your hips flush against his. You feel his tongue push roughly into your mouth, the feeling sending a jolt to your stomach. You don’t know if the throbbing you feel is from your core or his. Your hands comb down his torso while his hands find their way into your jean skirt. You break the kiss first aiming your hand for the double knot in front of his uniform. There is no resistance from Francisco as you lower your knees to the carpet. 

Frankie is aching at the thought of what you're about to do, he can feel the wet spot of his pre-cum growing. His hands grip the edge of the desk while you run your hands up and down his thighs. When you finally hook your fingers into his boxers, you kiss his very hard cock through the fabric before pulling them down. The sensation has his hips involuntarily jerk toward you. With you smiling through your lashes at him Frankie knew he wasn’t lasting long. 

With his boxers gone you see him thick, veiny, and curved. You lick up the pre-cum spreading on his tip before enveloping him fully in your mouth. Frankie’s hands transition from gripping the desk to grabbing a fistfull of your hair. He lets out a slew of hushed profanities while you bob your head up and down his length. 

Your tongue licks over his vein and he lets out a loud moan. Frankie can feel his load building and he gently rocks his hips in tandem with your mouth. Your warmth surrounds him, taking him eagerly making it harder for him to keep quiet. You can tell he’s close when he pulses in your mouth and his hips stutter in their steady rhythm. Frankie cums in spurts down your throat, seemingly deflating into the desk. 

Detaching your mouth from his member with a ‘pop’ you sit back on your heels readying yourself to get up. Frankie grabs your arms, carefully standing you back up before fixing his uniform bottom. 

“That was-” Frankie’s would be praise gets cut off by you.

“The best head I’ve ever given, you should count yourself lucky.” Frankie chuckles at your disheveled appearance. Thanks to him your hair was noticeably unruly, knees aching, and a tender jaw. Frankie slinks his way up to you rubbing your jaw with his thumb before giving you a kiss. 

“I do. Wait here I’ll get you a gatorade and start working on your car.” He motions for you to sit on the couch and get comfortable. He keeps his promise giving you cool blue which you gratefully accept. You don’t mean to but the couch is so comfortable you doze off after you’ve chugged your drink. 

Meanwhile Frankie tends to your car, more than he should. Although you asked for an oil change he also added wiper fluid to your windshield wipers and checked your brake pads. He feels the weight of Will’s questions, even if he’ll never ask them. 

“Thought she only needed an oil change.” Will breaks the silence as he watches Frank replace your brake pads.

“Look at her old brake pad,” Frankie let out before muttering “thing’s a fuckin’ death trap.”

Will walks to where your old brake pads in disbelief, there was barely anything left of the padding. “When was the last time she got maintenance?”

“Probably when she bought this thing.” Frankie grunts out.

……………..

You feel yourself being gently shaken awake, you quickly register where you are when making eye contact with the pink unicorn blanket on your body. Frankie’s already removed the empty gatorade bottle from your hand. You sit up to check your phone only to find you’ve been asleep for 4 hours. As if on cue, your stomach lets its disapproval show. 

“C’mon we’re gonna get something to eat and then I’ll drop you home.” Frankie’s declaration only leaves you more puzzled.

“But I only needed an oil change.” You remind him.

“Baby your brake pads were almost non-existent and your engine light is on. Do you know how long it’s been on?” He gently scolds you for 

“I don’t know like a couple of months, it runs just fine.” That was the worst possible answer you could have given him. 

Frankie collects himself before blandly telling you “I’m keeping it overnight to make sure, I don’t even think it’s up to state code.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence and slowly get up from the couch as he guides you to his pick-up. His hands manage to stay on some part of your body for the remainder of the night. 

taglist: @emilianamason

[crisalidaseason]

forgot to post this here, I usually post on ao3 first so feel free to check there for more new fics quicker (same username as here and a paola bracho pic).

Commander and Guerrila

Summary: Armin finds you bleeding on the stables. You're a political enemy with trust issues and a little distracted by your pretty rescuer/nurse. Tags: Bullet wounds, mentions of blood, mentions of political persecution, reader is injured and antimilitary, anti authoritative government, Armin is having a hard time coping (people with EDs might find it triggering) Armin stitches your wounds, I have no knowledge on wound treatment, reader curses A LOT, Armin and Annie are just besties, Mikaannie snippet, Sasha's dad is here and he's an iconic dilf.

Part 2 is here

You stumbled into the stables, hoping the muddy ground outside and the darkening sky would conceal the trail of blood you left while running from the soldiers pursuing you. After running for what felt like kilometers, your legs were shaking and the wound on your side was bleeding even more because of the strain. You pressed on the bullet wound, trying to stop the flow but too much blood was already lost. All you could do was open the most hidden horse stall and hide inside, not even acknowledging the confused animal that suddenly gained a roommate. The blood loss was fogging your mind and as your body cooled down from all the exercise the pain started to overwhelm you. Laying on the floor, not even bothering to see if it was clean, you quickly slipped into an unconscious state. ___

Armin would always wake up early, even on the days he was off duty. He would usually catch up on some book unrelated to the infinite amount of negotiation papers and treaties he usually had to read, and sometimes he would even go for a walk. Unfortunately, the latter was rather difficult to do since Jean would panic and refuse to let Armin walk anywhere alone.

“You’re the commander and given your history on the Battle of Heaven and Earth, I wouldn’t be surprised if they put a bullet through your head” Jean said.

“I am not a commander, there is no survey corps to make me one. And also, all of us live in potential danger for the same reason” He replied.

“But you’re still the face of this, Armin” Jean insisted “You have a target on your back, Commander title valid or not”

Armin sighed remembering that conversation from two years ago. Jean was still dramatic over his safety, probably a result of Mikasa asking the man to keep an eye on Armin during their diplomatic trips. She was also another person who constantly worried about his life, constantly begging him to retire from this career. He was never fond of this path he was forced to follow, ultimately a consequence of Eren’s actions, but there was no other person willing to do it.

“Good morning, Commander” the familiar voice said.

Jean entered the kitchen, already bathed and probably planning to go to the city if his clothes were any indication.

“Good morning, captain” Armin greeted “going to the city?”

“Yes, Arthur asked for some specific herbs and seasonings” he spoke while pouring some lemongrass tea for himself “Nicollo will be cooking a special dinner in honor of our successful alliance with Eldia”

Armin would call their negotiation everything but successful, their group was lucky at best. Historia was Armin’s only leverage and relative protection. Paradis, or Eldia, as they called it, was still hostile towards Armin and the Alliance members. The eldian military was even more suspicious of them, especially now that Annie, Pieck and Reiner were present figures. Armin felt as if he was still stepping on eggshells, he was not going to naively believe his problems were solved.

“Stop overthinking” Jean poked him in the arm “we made a good enough deal with them”

“The question is: Will they uphold it?” Armin quickly said.

“That is a question for the future, we can only be cautious” Jean said “now stop frying your overworked brain. You should come with me to the city”

“No, no” he denied “ It’s the last place I want to go, but you go and have fun”

Armin could feel Jean wanting to pressure him to let out more information, he had a good eye for people in distress, which annoyed Armin to the core. He did not need more pity. Thankfully he momentaneously gave up and was out of the farm house in a few minutes. The once commander watched from the kitchen window as his longtime friend took one of the horses tied on the front porch and rode off.

“Good morning, Commander”

Arthur greeted him

“Mr. Braus”

“You’re up awfully early for someone off duty” the older man said, while preparing the breakfast table for the children “and call me Arthur”

“I slept early yesterday” Armin lied “and I’ll call you Arthur once you stop calling me commander”

Alongise Jean and Connie, Sasha’s father was also someone who never stopped calling him by his title, even if the blonde had asked him to stop so many times. Armin was very fond of the man, he offered a safe space for many of the 104th veterans in honor of his late daughter.

“Ivan!” Arthur called for his oldest boy “The horses need feeding”

“I’ll do it” Armin offered, already standing up from his chair “let the boy sleep a little longer”

Arthur turned to face him, features contorted in surprise.

“Are you aware of your status as a guest?” he said “and commander?”

“Yes” Armin said “do not worry mr. Braus, I know how to handle horses”

“Wait-”

But Armin was already out of the kitchen, not bothering to hear any of the old man’s excuses. Nothing better to distract the mind than caring for animals, and he was very fond of horses. ___

You woke up in a painful haze, your mouth and throat were dry and the headache felt as if an axe was splitting your head. The horse you shared a stall with was not bothered at all, instead it was just reacting to something in the stables. You cursed mentally, you were supposed to hide and keep moving instead of fainting in a stable, where anyone could find you and possibly hand your weakened self to the army.

“Being upset with me won’t feed you faster, have patience” a male voice startled you.

Someone would find you, and there was not enough strength left on your body to fight. Not even your gun was around, only a pocket knife. By the sounds of the man’s steps, he was getting closer and closer to the stall you were in.

“Hello, Pots” he said to your horse roommate “always well behaved, huh?”

The locks in the stall were pulled and the door slowly opened, revealing a blond man with a bucket of what was probably hay. He spotted you immediately, blue eyes widening.

“Shit, who the hell are you?”

Your throat was too dry to even reply, instead letting incomprehensible grunts. You prepared the pocket knife in case he tried to grab you, mind half thankful that he at least did not carry a gun.

“That is a lot of blood” he said, getting closer carefully “I will call someone for help, try not to move much”

You were able to muster up a painful ‘no’, which threw you in a coughing fit and worsened the pain of your wound.

“Okay, okay!” he said.

The man looked around, looking for something. You could not really register what his intentions were when the wound was angrily hurting.

“Let me hide you somewhere else then, the stall is in plain view, what were you even thinking?”

Oh, sorry, maybe the giant bullet wound clouded my mind . You thought, already hating that man’s guts. He kneeled by your side, quickly taking your left arm and immobilizing the hand that was holding the pocket knife. He took your excuse of a weapon, closing and putting it inside your boot.

“Let’s not stab the rescuer” he said.

A part of your mind was a little surprised when the man, who had an average height and a slender figure, lifted you easily. Despite the headache and pain, you could notice the softness of his short straw blond hair and the almost absence of facial hair, which made his age confusing since his voice was deep enough to not pass as a teenager. That was an unusual farmer, you thought. He was moving rather easily and quickly, crossing the field and entering what seemed to be a barn.

“Here you go” he said, while laying you down “This barn is just winter storage, nobody comes here during summer season. I’ll get you some water and try to clean this wound”

You did not have a choice in the matter besides waiting for his next move, still being too weak to get up. Whatever this man’s intentions were, you were at his mercy. You found it strange that he left your pocket knife with you, but that meant nothing regarding trust. ___

Armin went back to the farm house running, trying to avoid being seen by anyone inside when he snuck in. Thankfully, he had basic wound care medicine and tools in his belongings, a habit he picked up from Hange years ago. Armin also took matches, a canteen of drinking water and some clean cloths. It was not ideal, but he was in a rush, the amount of blood in the stranger’s clothes was alarming. He was almost opening his bedroom door when someone knocked.

“Armin, are you there?”

He fell silent, hoping Annie would just leave thinking he was not inside. Don’t open the door, don’t open the door, don’t open-

“Arlert!” she said “if you start skipping meals again I’ll resort to violence”

He almost grunted out of frustration, putting all of the items down on the bedside table and shielding them with a book stack nearby.

“I have already eaten” he said, while opening the door slightly “Jean woke up early to do some errands and I joined him for breakfast”

The short woman had her arms crossed.

“Good” she said “let’s spare Mikasa from your antics or else I-”

“Yes, yes, I already know” he said “violence and all, now go back to your lover-not-my-lover and leave me to read some documents, hm?”

“Fuck you Arlert” she smiled “need any help?”

“No, now leave my sight please”

“Don’t have to ask twice” she scoffed.

He closed the door, relieved that Annie was nothing like overly worried Jean and Mikasa. He did not waste time and soon snuck out of the residence while everyone was distracted on the breakfast table. He walked in a fast pace, always checking if he was out of sight until he reached the storage barn.

“Sorry” he said “it took me longer than expected to-”

They were unconscious, and Armin almost panicked. He checked their pulse and breathing, which were awfully weak, and quickly decided to assess the wound on their side. He pulled the stranger’s coat away from the affected area and lifted the blood soaked shirt, seeing the not so large but deep wound, still bleeding. He almost prayed when he noticed the bullet just scraped deeply through the skin, he did not need to fish it out and cause even more pain or damage. Taking the water canteen, he poured it over the wound and tried to wash all the dirt from it. He also applied some ginger ointment to hopefully fight the certain infection before starting to stitch the wound up. ___

You woke up to a dark barn, and also alone. You were still in pain, but it was less damaging to your senses, making you notice that your coat was discarded and there was a blanket thrown on top of your body. Slowly lifting the sheet, you could see your shirt was torn near the wound and a white cloth covered a stitched ugly wound. Breathing in and out, you tried to sit up without disrupting the man’s job, but you had no strength to do so.

“Ugh, fuck this” you huffed.

At least your voice was working, still raspy, but way better than before. You wondered if the man tried to hydrate you, how unexpected of someone to be so helpful. Maybe you were just used to people being nothing but violent and oppressive to you and your people, especially the ones in the city. Of course, you would never trust the farmer entirely, he could still help you and cruelly hand you to the military in the end.

“You’re awake” the voice startled you “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you”

The odd farmer entered the barn, carrying something tied inside a cloth.

“I’m not scared” you replied “who are you?”

“I brought food” he said “you’re still dehydrated”

“Who the fuck are you?”

He looked you straight in the eyes, setting the food on the floor next to you.

“Does it matter? Knowing my name won’t heal you” he said.

You stayed silent, trying to guess what he was going to do next. He was kneeling, hands on his thighs while he looked around.

“Perfect” he spoke while standing up.

The man left your field of vision, but soon returned with a jute bag full of what seemed to be hay or dried wheat with how full it looked. He covered it with the cloth he used to wrap the food.

“Can I lift you up? you’ll eat better elevated” he asked.

You nodded. He slithered a hand under you, lifting your upper torso and lowering you again, but on the jute bag this time.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

Of course not, I can barely move on my own, you thought, but remained silent. He nervously deviated his sight to the food in his hands.

“Here” he offered a piece of steamed sweet potato.

You almost inhaled it after taking the first bite. The man also gave you a small canteen, which you gladly took and almost cried at the wonderful taste of water. The meal was silent, with him offering you more food until you emptied the plate and drained the canteen.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“No, I’m still thirsty” you confessed.

“I’ll fetch you more water” he said, standing up.

“Wait” you said.

He stopped at the door, and you had to admit he was a little distracting when illuminated by moonlight.

“Yes?” he asked when you remained silent for too long.

“Your stitches look like shit” you spilled. ___

Armin was exhausted when he finally snuck back into his room. He spent the entire day checking on the stranger whenever people were distracted enough, running from the house to the barn a few times that day to see if the person was still alive and wet their lips with cold water. He wanted to bring them to his room, but there was not a single scenario in his head that made it possible. Despite him knowing the others would not harm the stranger, he was awfully haunted by the desperate ‘no’ they let out when Armin offered to get help. Whoever that person was, he could recognize the weight of existence on them, and Armin had a sad hunch of what they were.

“Terrorists?” Pieck commented.

Jean, Armin and Connie were telling the events of the first Paradis-Alliance negotiation meeting to Annie, Pieck and Reiner. The warrior trio were left out until Armin could see a safe opportunity for their participation.

“Yes” Jean confirmed “at least that’s how the eldian army calls them. Supposed terrorists that conspire against the government”

“That’s strange” she said “but it explains why we weren’t shot to death upon arrival. They have bigger problems now”

“It’s not strange at all” Annie replied “an army leading a country? We saw this picture before and it always ends up on social control. The eldian government will always have riots for as long as they rule”

“At least we are off the hook” Connie said.

“Make no mistake, as soon as they manage to shut down this rioting group we will be targets again” Armin said “let’s be cautious”

Armin was screwed. He had helped a rioter, which could put him and his comrades in trouble. Whoever that person was, the fact they were shot meant that somewhere in this district their group orchestrated an attack. Armin’s strictly strategic and mission-focused side was screaming to let the stranger die, or kill them if they got any better, but he was not that monster anymore. Armin refused to repeat his sins from the past, when he was only a weapon and not a person. He would help the stranger heal and send them on their way, hoping that they were grateful enough to not tell on him.

He was not able to sleep that night, his mind on the wounded rioter inside the storage barn. The morning came fast, and he was already up on the first evidence of sunlight. He assembled a small plate with fruits, some bread, goat cheese and filled a canteen with rosemary water. Not bothering to eat himself, Armin left the farm house and walked at a slower pace to the barn. He hoped the stranger was still asleep, resting as much as they could. Armin did spend too much time there last night, speaking with the rioter until they fell asleep. He found it amusing that their first conversation started with a justified insult to his sewing abilities, Armin truly did not have the best knowledge on stitching people up.

“Sorry about it” he said once he returned with more water “I only learned the basics”

“I insulted your hard work trying to rescue me from the brink of death and you say sorry?” they asked.

“What should I say instead?” he asked.

They just shrugged their shoulders, not answering.

“You were lucky, the bullet just scraped, deeply, but it doesn’t seem like it hit anything major” Armin tried to lift their mood “can you tell me what happened?”

“None of your business”

Armin had to admit he wanted to chuckle a little, they seemed so torn between grateful and careful. He could relate and respect that very much, if the situation was switched he would have behaved the same.

“You’re up” he said once he opened the barn’s door.

They were already awake, or maybe did not sleep at all. Armin decided not to ask and just offered the food instead. They ate silently, drinking the rosemary water as if they were traveling through the desert. Armin knew well that losing blood could dehydrate someone this badly, the headaches and nausea were the worst part.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

“Like shit” they said “but less shit”

Armin could see the lie, they were sweating and the trembling indicated that maybe a fever was coming.

“Care if I check your temperature?” Armin said.

“I don’t have a fever”

He nodded and did not push them, already thinking of what he should do if they fell with an infection. He took the empty plate and headed back to the main house, sneaking into the kitchen to wash everything and start breakfast for everyone else. While he brewed some tea and coffee, he heard footsteps approaching the room.

“Oh, Good morning, Commander. I was about to start breakfast” Arthur said.

“Good morning, Mr. Braus” he greeted the older man “I was already awake, might as well help”

The man hummed, taking the pan from the cabinet and a basket of eggs. Armin observed while the man prepared the base for the omelets, offering space on the stove for him.

“So, where have you been sneaking up to?”

Armin choked on air but quickly recomposed his posture.

“Excuse me?” he replied.

“Boy, I have four teenagers at home. I know a sneaky kid when I see one”

Of course Arthur would drop his title for a good scolding.

“Sorry, sir. I just wanted some alone time”

“In my winter barn?”

“I was always a strange kid, Mikasa can confirm that” Armin partially lied.

“Hm, so this has nothing to do with the fact I found blood in one of my horse stalls?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. How could Armin be so fucking stupid?

“Are they even alive?” Arthur questioned, frying another omelet as if he was saying mundane things.

“Yes” Armin finally gave up “but they might be developing an infection ”

The older man sighed, turning the stove off.

“Bring them inside. A dusty barn is no place to heal” ___

You were pissed, livid, angrier than ever. That stupid farm boy was going to get you killed.

“I told you to not ask for help! You fucking dumb farm boy” you grunted.

“I asked him to bring me here” the old man tried to reason “besides, I know very well what you are and I have no intentions of giving you to the military”

“Do you really think I believe in this?” You spat.

“You either believe or die of infection” Armin said “You can’t even hide it anymore”

“Let me give you a room, let your body heal completely” the older man said again “once you can walk without fainting you’re free to go”

“Why would you help a terrorist?” ” the word was full of venom in your mouth.

“I’m helping a wounded person, that’s all” he said “and besides, it’s not like I sympathize with the military either”

The wrinkles on his face indicated a suffering you could remember from your mother’s features. It was not uncommon for farmers, nurses and teachers to dislike their government, but caution was never too much. You did not trust anyone but your comrades, but there was no choice in the moment. You were vulnerable, and you were feeling weaker as the hours passed.

“If you turn me in, my comrades will fucking bomb your farm next”

“Yes, of course they will” the old man dismissed your answer “Armin, mind carrying them to the main house?”

The blond boy approached you, asking you a silent question. You nodded and he quickly picked you up, firmly holding you. Despite the feverish haze, you still could not help but notice how strong he was. And the name? it was so familiar and yet you had no instant memories of it.

“Here” the old man motioned for Armin once they entered the home “this room is never used, we can be discreet and still give you good enough care”

You almost cried once your body was placed on the soft bed. You were used to sleeping in uncomfortable conditions, but something about being ill and sleeping in a proper bed left you sensitive. You were fed more properly and had your wound cleaned again, the old man, which you learned was named Arthur, gave you a towel and bathing supplies, alongside clothes.

“I’ll leave you to try and bathe on your own, but if you need help I can ask my wife to assist you” Arthur said.

You refused, but thanked him shyly. Your attempt at bathing and relieving yourself was slow and incredibly messy, but it was good enough for someone in the early stages of fever and wobbly legs. Armin had knocked on your door, asking to give you fever medicine he had found.

“I’ll check on you later regarding the fever, but try to rest for now” he said.

Before he could leave your room, you grasped his sleeve. He turned back to you, intense blue eyes questioning your actions.

“I just” you began “Thanks…for not letting me die on that stable”

He gave you a small smile, nodding.

“It’s the least I could do” he said.

He pulled the blinds to darken the room, giving you one last look before closing the door. You laid down on the bed, still uncomfortable but feeling less dirty and weak, thinking about the strange luck destiny gave you in the shape of a blond farm boy. You were young, but lived enough to expect that luck would soon run out, and that terrified you.

The next few days were filled with that man checking on your wound, giving you medicine, engaging in small conversation while he waited for you to finish the meals he brought. You never gave him your name, despite knowing his, and he started calling you by that stupid nickname.

“Guerrila” Armin called you.

You rolled your eyes, holding your tongue not to curse at him when he had your food in hands.

“Stop calling me that”

“When you give me a name, even a fake one”

Never.

“Here you go” Armin handed you the bowl “bean stew”

“Who is your cook again?” You asked.

“Nicollo” he said.

“Send him my regards”

“He has no idea you’re here, but I’ll try my best”

“It’s better this way” you spoke “you and Arthur are already in danger simply by helping me”

Armin sat next to you on the bed.

“Again, Guerrilla, helping you makes little difference on our safety status”

He had given you this answer before, but never elaborated on it. You also never asked for more details, afraid he would use this as an exchange to know more about you. It’s not like you were still worried about your identity, but you were terrified of letting someone know you. Armin was still a stranger, but you felt a horrible need to know him better and share your thoughts and life in return. You could not have that, you could never have anyone again. Everyone you ever loved or cared for died or disappeared: You mother, sister, lover, friends, comrades. That farmer boy did not need to enter the list, nor Arthur.

“I’ll be leaving soon” you announced “The wound is healing well and I haven’t had a fever in two days”

“Are you sure? Arthur would never force you to leave”

“Yes. I can’t stay anymore, I need to warn my remaining comrades of what happened”

“I understand”

No, he did not. How could he? He was a farmer boy after all.

“Tell me when you want to go, I can arrange a horse and supplies” he said “also find a good time for you to leave unnoticed”

You thanked him for the help, genuinely relieved that he did not try to convince you to stay. Had he asked, you would have stayed longer. ___

Armin closed their door, locking it from the outside as usual. It was surprisingly easy to hide someone in that house, which made Armin think if Arthur had done that before. Not even Mikasa, who had a good eye for routine shifts, picked up on Armin and Arthur’s odd behavior. Or maybe she was too invested in her newfound strange tension/relationship with Annie, who knows. All he knew is that soon enough the young rioter would leave and Armin would have to act as if nothing happened, as if that stranger did not turn his life upside down by spawning in a horse stall about ten days ago. He was terrified by how quickly he was getting attached, even if he knew barely anything about them.

“Are you even listening to me?” Jean waved his hand.

“Sorry, sorry. Can you repeat?”

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve been distracted for a while”

“I’m okay” Armin said “please, proceed”

Jean spoke again, reviewing their newest treaty with Eldia and the contracts with the other countries they visited as a pacific alliance. Jean sensed they would have to travel soon and was endlessly ranting about the cost of the trip and how much time they would spend in a certain conference. Armin’s mind was half listening to his captain, but the other half was thinking about the stranger hiding in that very house. Armin would leave and not come back for at least four months, maybe more. He hoped that the guerrilla could at least stay alive until he could somehow find them again. Was it reasonable? Of course not. If the previous commander of the survey corps was found looking for a rioter that would cause him more problems than ever. ___

Armin was waiting for you to finish packing. Arthur had given you more than you deserved for a quick trip back to the headquarters, but you appreciated the man’s generosity, he even polished your pocket knife. You checked if everything was on your bag before turning to Armin and nodding. He opened the door, looking into the corridor before signaling for you to follow, and guided you to what seemed to be the back doors of the house. Outside, the dark sky had no moon, but you could spot a horse waiting for you with the help of an oil lamp. Armin climbed on the animal and offered you a hand.

“You’ll need help finding your way out of the farm” he justified “I know the way by heart”

You took his hand, careful not to strain your almost healed wound, and sat behind him. The heat on your face was very unwelcome, in your opinion, why would you feel all stupid then when the man had carried you bridal style twice before? Maybe it was the fact his hands were calloused but his grip was gentle, or that his shoulders were firm when you grasped them. Ugh, I am so pathetically touch starved, you said to yourself.

“Of course the farmer boy knows the way” you finally said.

“Can I tell you something?” he chuckled.

“Hm?”

“I am not a farmer” he said “Well, I worked in a farm about ten years ago, but I’m just visiting a friend here”

“And what are you then?”

“I have no idea” he said.

“Excuse me?” you were so confused.

“Some people say I am an ambassador, others call me a diplomat, some call me survey corps scum”

That’s when it hit you like a horse race. Armin as in-

“Are you the 15th commander? Commander Arlert?”

He did not say anything at first, but you could feel his shoulders tense up.

“I guess so”

“People in this country hate your guts” you said without thinking “Shit, you helped me! If they ever find out you’re getting killed!”

“Nobody will suspect if a certain Guerrila stays silent about it” he said.

“Of course I’m not saying shit, but still! If I was in your place…”

He could have done what any other government targeted person would.

“You would turn me in?” he continued your line of thought “it’s a smart move, rid yourself of danger by handing them a terrorist”

“Why didn’t you?”

"It's not fair” he said “but please let’s not talk about it”

You wanted to ask more, to know more. How could he even tell you those things and not elaborate on anything? You almost considered asking him for more information when the horse came to a stop and Armin asked you to hold the oil lamp while he got off the horse. The orange hue was the only thing allowing you to see his face.

“You should recognize the main road from here, I trust you know how to avoid the military”

You nodded, adjusting yourself on the horse saddle.

“I am sort of an expert in avoiding them” you said.

He smiled and shook his head, petting the horse’s neck.

“Try not to be shot again when I’m out of the country” he looked you straight in the eyes.

“I’ll try my best, but don’t make any promises”

“Alright, get out of here” he stepped away from the horse.

You prompted the horse forward, but not even five meters on you turned your body to face him. Armin held the oil lamp close to enough to see that he still faced you.

“Maybe one day we can talk without this looming danger on our heads” you said.

“I hope so”

With his face still ingrained on your mind, you turned around and left.

[catboyclarity]

I'm doing Whumptober this year because October is a rough time for me and putting characters through The Horrors makes you feel better. I'm mostly using this promptlist because I like it better, may have other prompts in there, don't care about the event stuff, just tagging it so people can blacklist if they want, will be using my OCs or my partner's OCs, will have prompts and potential triggers above the readmore, won't be posting every single one as some are Just For Me.

Day 1. Gunshot Wound. Tws: blood, pain, alcohol mention.

OCs: Clement (ze/hir), Zach (he/him) and Val (she/her). Werewolf hunters. Writing is canon.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Zach said. He kept repeating that. Clement wasn’t particularly reassured. Ze knew him well enough that ze also knew he’d be saying that even if he’d been disemboweled or lost a limb or was otherwise mortally injured. Val threw the car door open, and Clement helped Zach lay down as softly as ze could. He swallowed down a shallow pained sound. “I’m fine, really, it just—it just grazed me, it just grazed me.” 

Val crawled into the front seat, to look for the first aid kit, while Clement lifted up Zach’s shirt to check the injury on his side. Ze breathed a sigh of relief. He was right, it had just grazed him—but the wound bled and bled, and all Clement could think about is that if the bullet had hit him just a few more inches to the right, it would have pierced his organs. There would be nothing they could have done for him.

“I’m okay…?” Zach asked, quietly. “You’ll be alright,” Clement said. “You’ll pull through, buddy, we’ll take care of you, okay?” 

“Okay,” Zach repeated. He leaned his head back and winced. Nineteen, only a few years younger than Clement and Val, but at that moment ze felt every day of that gap. Gangly, pale, his movements unbalanced sometimes in the way that reminded hir of a puppy.. He’d been hunting for less than a year, usually with bigger groups than just their trio, did he really know what he was getting into? Were they going to get this poor boy killed someday?

“A fucking gun,” Val said, coming back over the glove compartment with disinfectant and gauze in hand. 

“We should have watched better,” Clement said. Val scowled at hir. 

“Werewolves don’t usually have fucking guns,” she said. “Jesus christ.”

“Should we take him to a  hospital?” “We’re broke.” She sat down on the car floor and unscrewed the bottle of antiseptic. “Zach, this is gonna hurt like a bitch, okay?” 

“I can take it,” He said, looking at the ceiling. “I’m a tough motherfucker, I don’t feel pain, I—” He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming as Val poured it over his wound. 

“You’re doing great.” Clement grabbed his hand. He squeezed hard enough to hurt.

“It’s gonna need stitches.” Val peered at the wound. “Clem, we still have some booze in the back of the van. Go get it, okay?” Ze nodded and let go of Zach’s hand, backing out of the still-open car door. Even outside, ze could still spell the blood. Ze stumbled around to the back compartment and rifled around in there, seeking the bottle of shitty vodka ze knew was in there.

As ze did so, ze could still hear further up in the van. Zach was crying, the sobs choked off, like he was trying to keep them down. Val soothed him, the particular words inaudible, in a voice much softer than she had ever used for Clement.

[secretwriterpp]

Interrogation 2

The aftermath

Summary: Frankie Morales x Reader (mention of the other TF boys)

You and Frankie are caught off guard at the safe house. The aftermath of what happened leads you to a very dark place

WARNINGS for this specific chapter: PTSD, mention of self arm (is you squint hard), nightmares, guilt, hyper sexualisation. A little smut, I guess.

{Masterlist} {Chapter 3}

You don’t know how long you were in the shower. Long enough to scrub all the blood off of your skin and hair, long enough so the water wasn’t as hot anymore, slowly being replaced by less and less warm streams going down your skin, long enough for Santi to knock on the bathroom door and ask if you were okay, but not long enough to take him off of you.

Santi knocked again, you heard his voice behind the wood door:

“y/n , are you still in the shower ? Do you need help?”

You couldn’t speak, so instead you turned the shower off so he would know you were okay. He didn’t knock again, giving you space. You got out of the shower, brain empty apart from that ringing sound you could not get rid of. Your body felt heavier, you were weak from all the blood loss, your wound was still bleeding , you could feel the warm thick liquid go down your leg. The bathroom was filled with steam, you could barely see anything, you didn’t see the sink when you touched it with one hand. You blindly reached for the door of the medicine cabinet. You fumbled through the stuff that was inside , hoping you could find something to help you with your injury. You found nothing.

You stood there , in front of the foggy mirror for you don’t know how long. The ringing was slowly replaced by circling thoughts. “I should take an appointment with a doctor , check for STDs” … “I should take a plan B , just in case” … “I should get my leg stitched” … “I should cry? Should I ?”. You shook that thought away. As the time went forward , you could start to see glimpses of your face in the wet mirror. “Hie am I gonna hide those bruises” … “I should check on Frankie” … “I should clean the kitchen” At some point you were able to see your reflection clearly, you were pale , you were numb , you weren’t you, the girl in the mirror she wasn’t looking back at you. Your mind kept spinning for a while “I should dump the bodies somewhere , maybe burn them” … “should get rid of his truck” … “find a new safe house” … “tell the Millers that someone is also after them” … “find who paid him to kill your partners”

Santi knocked again. “y/n , do you need anything?” You could hear to worry in his voice , you hated it.

You managed to let a « I’m good » come out of your mouth.

————/————-

Frankie was finally able to get away from that fucking chair. When he first got up, he almost forgot that he was shot right above his knee by his ex partner. Luckily for him, the bullet went completely through his leg , not touching any main artery.

“Fuck , that hurts”

Pope helped him walk to the couch.

“I need stitches, go get the kit”

Santi did what he was told. When he first came in the house he was taken aback by the amount of blood that was spread all over the floor. But in a few seconds he was able to asses the situation , Frankie had been shot , you had a knife wound in your leg, one dead guy was bleeding from his head and the last one , well the last one had multiple stab wounds and was a bloody mess. Santi was very good at doing stitches even if he never was able to make them look pretty. Even when he was finish with the delicate procedure, Frankie was still shaking from the night he just experienced. He didn’t say much until Santi asked him about it.

“The fuck happened Frankie? Is the safe house compromise?”

“It is , we should call Ben and Will , these guys were after them too”

Santi took his burner phone and called the brothers , warning them about a potential enemy. He couldn’t talk to them very long since they were both on an important mission.

Frankie was now lying on the couch , both hands covering his face, rubbing his skin. He didn’t know what to say to Santiago. And then he realized:

“We should leave , burn the house. Whoever sent those guys, they are gonna send more when they register that the first ones didn’t succeed.”

————///————

You heard another knock on the door, it was Pope again:

“y/n , we need to leave this place. You need to pack your stuff and we will find another safe house”

You opened the door , you were still naked. Santi was caught by surprise by your nudity and turned around not to look at you.

“We will burn the whole place down, don’t forget anything” he added.

You walked straight to your room, not looking at him , not even for a second. You packed your weapons frantically. Dried yourself with the towel that was hanging behind your door. Put on some random pants and T-shirt from your dresser and packed the rest in your duffel bag. That’s it , nothing else. That’s all you had in this house. The other things you were leaving here could not be picked up anyway.

Without thinking you walked down the stairs , passed Frankie on the couch , went straight to the front door , put on your combat boots and stepped outside. You stayed there , silent, while the boys were packing their stuff . The duffle bag was heavy on your shoulder, but the pain was a good distraction. You could see his truck in your peripheral view, you felt your stomach turn when you thought of his keys. How you had to search for them on his dead body. You found them in the front pocket of his unzipped pants. You closed your eyes tight, clenched your jaw as hard as you could to bring the ringing sound back in your head. You could almost feel the muscles responsible for the numbing sound flex inside your ears. You gave all your attention to the duffle bag strap that was digging into the skin of your shoulder.

“Let’s go” yelled Santi behind you. The sound of his voice brought you back to reality , it almost felt like you just came back to the surface after being nearly drowned. You gasped for air.

You saw Frankie lit a match and throw it in a little puddle of gas. The house was in flames in seconds. Next to have the same faith was Dave’s truck.

Dave’s truck.

Dave.

You hated the fact that you knew his name. DAVE.

You snapped out of it and climbed into Pope’s truck. You were sitting in the backseat , the two boys in the front. Nobody talked for at least an hour , you were listening to the voice of a baseball commentator when you fell asleep.

———— /// ————

« What happened Frankie? Who we’re they? »

Frankie told Santi about Dave , that he was his ex partner, that he was there to kill the both of them, that he thought you were just his defenseless girlfriend, that he shot him in the leg. That’s when he stopped his story. He was hesitant about telling the rest , like it wasn’t his right to talk about it.

« Come on Frankie » Santi whispered , aware that his friend was afraid you would hear them « she killed them both, she should be proud. What happened to her ? Why is she like … that? »

Frankie took his baseball cap off and rubbed his face and head in his hands.

« Dave thought he could make me talk by hurting her , that’s when he stabbed her ».

Frankie was breathing more heavily, the guilt was building up in his chest making him feel like he was suffocating. The images of what he witnessed that night turning in his mind like a gross sadistic merry-go-round. He didn’t watch everything that happened, he couldn’t, he was stuck between the feeling of being a sick perv if he looked the women he loved being violated and the guilt he felt for leaving you alone with Dave when he closed his eyes to cowardly hide away from the pain. He felt guilty cause you couldn’t hide while he did.

“He quickly understood that it wouldn’t work, she’s too strong. So … So he … he…”

Pope was getting impatient , but he felt his friend’s pain and didn’t pressure him to talk.

« He touched her. Right in front of me , I couldn’t do shit to help her. » his voice cracked. « He raped her ».

The silence was thick in the vehicle. Frankie was crying again. Crying out of sheer anger. Crying out of pain, the pain he felt for you and for himself. Crying cause he couldn’t protect you. Crying cause he thought it was his fault. Why did he agree to be strapped to that fucking chair ? Everything went so horribly wrong.

The rest of the ride was spend in complete silence.

————///————

It’s like the simple thought you had on the front lawn of the safe house, that tiny little thought about feeling like drowning was now implemented into your subconscious, engraved. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you had such a vivid dream. You felt like you were at the bottom of a giant pool, water was still around you even if you were fighting for your life. It felt like you were really deep in the water, the pressure was keeping you pinned down to the pool floor, giving you a massive headache. You were struggling to move, like something was holding you down by your neck. You opened your eyes and saw his smile. You woke up with a small gasp.

By the time you understood you were still in Santiago’s truck , safe in the backseat, you could hear Frankie talk about what happened. He was whispering, but you could hear him perfectly. He didn’t say much, left most of the graphic violence out of his story but he ended by this dreadful word : rape. You almost lost it when you heard the word come out of his mouth. Hearing his voice say it. That’s what you were now , a victim? You were having a very hard time controlling your breathing, you wanted to scream and cry , but not in front of them . Your pain had to wait, so you pretended to sleep for the rest of the ride.

Santiago was driving , his attention on the road. Frankie finally fell asleep. You stayed awake , focusing on the baseball match on the radio, subtle tears streaming down your face.

————///————

As soon as you arrived Santi stitched your stab wound. After that , what happened wasn’t mentioned again. You were very good at pretending. A few days passed and it was like nothing happened. At least that’s how you hoped it looked like.

The boys knew you were pretending, maybe you thought you were good at it but you weren’t. Santi was trying to talk about anything and it was awkward. Frankie couldn’t look at you straight in the eyes, he felt too much guilt. He barely talked to you except for insignificant small talk.

Alone in your room at night, you felt powerless, stripped from your choices. You felt like a victim and it was driving you insane. At a very young age, your parents signed you up for martial arts classes. They thought it would be a good thing for you to know how to defend yourself. After that, all your life, you took pride at your fighting skills, making it your profession by joining the army. Now that pride felt like shame. You failed yourself, you failed the plan that your parents had for you.

————///————

You couldn’t stay there and do nothing about how you felt. You needed to find that control back. That night, a week after what happened, you decided that you would get your body back. You would be the one to choose and make decisions. You got out of your bed and tiptoed to Frankie’s room. You always knew about his crush on you and if you weren’t ruined , you would still hope it would happen. So you decided to slipped behind him in bed. You barely talked to him the last few days , but right beside him in the dark , it felt easier. You wrapped your arm over him, sliding your fingers along his naked skin. You touched his chest from his shoulders to his small belly. You whispered his name softly in his ear. « Frankie , it’s me » You felt him shiver under your breath, he was awake now.

You kissed his neck and jaw , your right hand going down to where he was starting to get hard. You pressed your hand over his half awake cock. You then wrapped your fingers around his length over the fabric of his boxers, pumping him a few times, he was fully erect now.

Frankie mumbled «  y/n? » You pulled him on his back and straddled him . Both your hands grabbed his face to pull him towards you, you smashed your lips on his. He opened his mouth for you, still confused about what was going on. Your hands were all over him and your kisses were a chaotic mix of tongue and teeth.

Frankie was surprise , to say the least. He kissed you back , passionately, he dreamt of that moment for so long. He lifted his hands to put them on your waist and hips but you immediately took his hands off and pinned them over his head. Pushing a little harder than necessary to make him understand that he needed to stay there and not move.

You took your top off, Frankie widened his eyes with lust. His mind still not fully understanding what was going on. He tried to look at your face, make eye contact, but your eyes were shut tight. Something was wrong. You were already tugging down on his boxers, your hands between your legs, your mouth invading his with too much intensity. At first he thought (hoped) it was passion, now looking at your face , he knew nothing good would come out of this.

He grabbed your hands “y/n please, slow down”. You didn’t listen. You harshly freed yourself from his grip and guided his hand back over his head, immediately reaching back to touch his cock. This time he grabbed you by your shoulders and softly pushed you off of him:

“y/n stop. Not like this”

“Not like how? ” you snapped back.

“We barely spoke this week, you’re not even looking at me”

“So ? I want you. I need this”

“You’re not doing okay, you need help” that’s not how he wanted to say it , but that’s how it came out.

“Fuck you Frankie” you got off the bed and stormed out his room. Before smashing the door you blurred out

“Maybe Pope is more in the mood”

You didn’t go into Santi’s room. You were too afraid he would reject you too. You cried in silent, sobbing into your pillow, hoping nobody could hear how pathetic you were. You really lost everything, you thought, even Frankie. Of course he wouldn’t want you now, you were disgusting , worthless. “Not like that” he said. He meant ruined? Used? “You need help” he added. What now ? He thinks you’re crazy? Unwell? You failed again that night, not being able to take control back over your life.

The next day, you were cold as ice. Even with Santiago who was completely oblivious of what happened the night before. You didn’t make small talk. You did your little things and spent most of the day outside alone thinking about the next move you could make to have your life back. You saw Frankie try to catch your attention , you ignored him completely. Did he felt sorry for you? Was it pity? You couldn’t bare the idea of it. So you avoided him all day.

By the time it was diner , you knew exactly what you needed to do. You would find someone who would want you. Some random dude at a bar maybe and you would fuck him senseless. Taking back your body, your choice and your power. You thought it was exactly what you needed. Oh boy, you didn’t know yet in what immense mess you were going in headfirst.

{Chapter 3}

Tag list : @rosaliedepp