#shes the only one that matters. shes the only one i went there and i looked at them all. only on e who matters

[traveler-at-heart]

Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn’t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[magics-neptunes-things]

Love Me Harder

Hi guys :)

Still working on my WIP! This is a request I got here, so I hope the person asking for it will be happy with what I wrote :)

I'm sorry for the delay by the way.

But please enjoy ♥

TW : Head injury, concussion, jealousy, angst with happy ending.

Leah and you have been a couple for almost two years now, even if you managed to get it hidden for now. You always had something for the girl to be honest, but when you met Leah, she was already with Jordan and you weren’t really a couple breaker. Sure, it hurts sometimes to see her happy with someone else, but at least she was happy and that’s all that matters for you.

You tried to forget her by sleeping around or having a girlfriend yourself, but nothing really worked. You usually dated people away from the football world, not wanting to mix your professional life with your private life. It happened that you slept with other players though, but never in your team or with them being friends with one of your friends.

With that state of mind, it was hard to find someone to sleep with, but at least you were out of trouble.

Well, that’s what you thought until today.

Leah and you aren’t playing for the same team, she was born at Arsenal while you travel a lot during your career. You started in Manchester City, then you went to Lyon, then to Bayern and since last season you have been back in Manchester City. You like it here and it was easier to live your relationship with Leah that way.

You are together when you are playing for your national team though, you have been the number one goalkeeper of the team for years now. Leah is back from her injury and is now back in national camp too.

Sarina knows that you are together, like all your teammates. The only people who don’t know are the public. You are friends with a lot of Lionesses, so when you are spotted with Leah and some of your friends, no one really puts two and two together. Meado tease you a lot about it, but in reality, you aren’t fan of PDA anyway and so is Leah. Maybe not like you are with your friends, but it’s another discussion.

Back to today, you are playing against Italy for the qualification of the next international championship. After your World Cup and the fact that you weren’t qualified for the Olympics Games, all your team wants to show that you are still here and deserve to win the Euro back in 2022.

You were doing the pitch inspection, casually talking with Lucy and LJ when you heard someone calling your name. Leah, as always, wasn’t far away from you with Keira and Georgia.

“Y/N?”

You turn without really thinking in the direction of the voice, just to be faced with a girl that you actually slept with several months ago. To be honest, it was just before you got in a relationship with Leah. You hate to admit it, but you kind of ghost that poor girl after that, way too happy to finally be with the girl you were in love with.

“Oh, hi Milena” you say nervously.

You even have forgotten that she’s in fact from Italy and you will be facing her today. You can see Lucy exchanging an intrigued look with LJ next to you while the girl keeps walking in your direction.

“I’m happy to see you” she says when she’s in front of you.

You don’t have time to answer before she hugs you and your arms automatically surround her waist to give her back her embrace. If your arms very quickly drop from her body, one of her hands stays in your arm.

You probably never have been so uncomfortable during the rest of your life. You can feel Leah burning gaze on your back.

“How are you? I think we haven't talked for like two years” she laughs.

“Oh, uh. I’m good thanks” you mumble.

“You look good indeed” she smirks.

You deal very badly with cringe, to be honest. So, you are particularly relieved when Lucy passes her arm around your shoulders before talking.

“We have to go back inside” Lucy says, nodding towards the locker room.

In fact, when you look around, you realise that almost all your teammates are already inside. That excuse is perfect after all. You mumble a “See you later” before letting Lucy take you out of the pitch.

Lucy and LJ manage to wait to be out of your ex’s ear before bursting into laughter. You suppose you must be grateful to them for that.

“What was that?” Lauren asks while Lucy is still laughing like crazy.

“Nothing” you roll your eyes.

“She doesn’t look like nothing” Lucy smirks when she can breathe again.

“Be careful with what you say, or Ona will receive a strange text from me, explaining how you find other girls not nothing” you frown.

She suddenly shuts up, her face becoming way more serious. It makes you smile. You never saw Lucy so whipped for a girl before. But you know that your friends deserve an explanation. You sigh softly before starting your explanation.

“It’s a girl I slept with before Leah kissed me at that party, and we got together. I was still in the process of forgetting her. I met that girl before the Euro and well… You know” you shrug. “But then after the semi-finales we got together with Leah, after that she hurt her ACL and I kind of totally forgot that girl.”

LJ hums after your explanation, nodding softly. You can see that your explanation makes sense for both of them which is great because it’s nothing but the truth.

“Leah was boiling” Lucy informs you.

You grimace at this. You were pretty sure that she would react that way. You never realise how Leah can be jealous before being with her. You like it actually, fond of the way she wants to be sure that you are hers and no one can take you away from her.

But here and now aren’t exactly the right place to show her that she is your only one.

You are nervous when you enter the changing room, looking for your girlfriend. You finally see her sitting in Georgia’s cubby. Her eyes are burning when she crosses your gaze after you enter the locker room.

Lucy goes sit on her cubby, just next to yours, while LJ goes on hers too. You want to talk to Leah, but Georgia’s non-verbal language makes you think that you better not approach Leah for now.

That girl is really scary when she wants to.

Keira’s gaze is softer and it’s what makes you walk in their direction. Lucy was right, Leah seems furious.

“Can we talk?” you ask softly when you reach them.

“No” Georgia answers harshly.

“Georgia” Keira sighs.

“Leah?” you try again, trying to cross your girlfriend’s gaze. “Please?”

She sighs and throws the towel she was holding in the cubby while standing up. She doesn’t answer really, but you follow her anyway when she walks to leave the room. You don’t really know where you are going at first, until she turns to enter in a closet.

“What do you want to talk about?” Leah asks harshly just after you close the door.

You are a little bit taken aback. You know what you want to talk about of course, but you don’t know how to start. You are sure that if you say that you know she’s jealous, she will deny it and that it will be the end of the conversation. This is not what you want.

“I just wanted to know if you are okay” you tentatively say.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She has now her arms crossed and her famous frown on her face. You know how hard it would be to have something from this conversation.

“Because you seem angry”

Leah snorts and looks at the handle of the door. She putted her hands on her hips now and is shaking her head.

“Am I supposed to be happy when my girlfriend is getting flirted with by someone else?”

“No, that is why I wanted to talk to you too. I just…”

“Do you know her?” Leah cuts you.

This time her eyes are deep inside yours and you know that you can’t lie to her. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anyway, but with her eyes scanning your soul, it would have been impossible.

“I… We slept together some time ago” you finally sigh.

“When?”

“Just before the Euros”

You know that Leah knows perfectly that your first kiss happened after the semi-finals against Sweden and the happiness of the victory. You were the first shocked when she kissed you after some naughty dancing, but you kissed her back and the rest of the night probably made her understand very much how much you were fancying her already.

It’s even stronger now, of course.

But Leah is looking at you like she’s going to kill you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Le. I didn't know that several weeks later you would kiss me. I didn’t know you were interested in me at this point.”

You try to take her hand with yours, but she takes it away from you, before opening the door again.

“Well you can go back fucking her in that case”

“Leah!”

She slams the door, almost pinning your fingers inside. When you manage to get outside too, Leah isn’t here anymore. You decide to go back to the training room and try to talk to her again, but when you arrive, Sarina is right behind you, asking you to go training.

You aren’t really concentrating during the training to be honest; you keep looking at Leah, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even share a look with you when you are right behind her at the beginning of the game.

You really hope that a win will ease her mood and help you to reconcile with Leah. You turn when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning your bigger frame towards Keira. She just smiles at you, and you nod only. You are too nervous to smile, but you are glad to know that you have at least one of Leah’s friends on your side. You are sure that Leah explained everything to them.

You take a deep breath when it’s time to go on the pitch, trying to focus on the game. The national anthems help you and you keep a straight face when you check all the Italian players, even Milena.

You do your usual check with Lucy too, looking for good luck before starting the game. England is supposed to be the favourites, but Italy is fighting with all their strength. Your forwards manage to have good opportunities, but without being able to score for now.

After the first half, no one scored, and you had to use some of your best moves to avoid taking a goal or two.

You just nod when Sarina congratulates you in the locker room. Leah is still not looking at you, as if you weren’t even here. It creates a strange feeling in your throat. You are happy that Lucy is just next to you, even if she’s not talking, your friend’s presence is good for you.

When the game starts again, you realise with anxiety that Milena and her other teammates change their side, meaning that Leah is the one marking Milena from now.

But Leah manages to take the upper hand on Milena every single time, using with ability her slide tackles. You are happy when Alessia finally manages to score around the seventy minutes.

Five minutes later, Sarina made all the different changes she was planning to, leaving Lucy and Leah in the defence but changing Millie and Maya in the same move. You don’t have a lot of time to get used to that though, because soon Italy won a corner, and you have to focus again on the game.

You can’t really explain what happened. Your eyes were on the ball when the Italian player shot it in the middle of the surface. But the knock you received on your head suddenly makes everything dizzy and you fall on the ground without really realising it.

There is a wheezing and everything else sounds like you were underwater. You feel hands on you, someone slapping your cheek, two fingers looking for your pulse in your neck.

You don’t know if it’s because it’s Leah or if it’s because she’s screaming right above your head, but you hear her distinctly shout

“Don’t fucking touch her! Let her breathe!”

And the panic in her voice finally makes you open your eyes. It’s the same feeling when you are sleepy, and Leah wakes you after you fall asleep in front of a movie to go to bed. Your eyes are heavy, the light is too bright too. You wince and close your eyes almost as soon as you open them, pressing your hand on your head.

“Y/N? Hey Baby, can you hear me?”

Leah’s voice is softer than you ever heard it, and you groan for only an answer. Your head is pounding.

“Can you roll on your back?”

You recognize the voice of one of the people from the medical team. You groan once more and roll on the ground, lying now on your back. You warily open your eyes, thankful that someone is hiding the lights of the pitch with their frame. You frown softly when you realise that it’s Milena

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”

“It’s okay” Leah cuts her harshly. “She needs to get looked at; can you leave?”

You perfectly see the staff member smile at each other before turning their attention to you again.

They ask you several questions, make you sit, look at their fingers and look at a light too. It’s not an enjoyable experience to be honest, it hurts, and you have trouble staying focused.

“I think it’s a concussion” one of them finally says. “It would be better for you to get out of the pitch.”

“No” you frown. “Sarina made all the substitutions already. I can’t leave.”

“Of course you can” Leah interjects. “No one would blame you. It’s safer like th– “

“Leah. I’m playing.”

Her light blue eyes went right into your eyes. You don’t look away, Leah might be stubborn, but you are too when you really want something. And you want to play, you want to prove to her that she can count on you no matter what. You know you have hurt her and maybe bummed after your revelation earlier. You want to take amend of that.

When she opens her mouth to answer, you look at the medical staff.

“Am I allowed to play?”

They hesitate for several seconds, looking at you silently.

“If I let you play, you have to swear that if you don’t feel good, or dizzy, or tired, you will stop the game and get out of the pitch. Can we make this deal?”

You nod and he nods back, before helping you to get up. You take some water from the bottle he gave you, splashing some of it on your face too. You feel tired to be honest and the lights are killing you. But you are determined to end this game.

“Y/N.”

You turn in Leah’s direction and it’s easy to see the concern in her eyes. You smile softly at her while your teammates and the opposite team are coming back on the pitch.

“I’ll be fine, Leah”

She sighs and you feel her gaze on you when you go back to the goal. You don’t see her or hear her turning to the players around her, telling them not to let anyone come near your goal.

They manage to do it greatly to be honest, and you are glad for it. You have to make some intervention, like grabbing the ball in the air for example. Jumping was fine, but the shock when you fall on the ground is harsh.

When the whistle of the referee finally sounds, signalling the end of the game, you are more relieved than ever. Closing your eyes, you let your tired body sliding along one of the two posts on your goal.

“You’re alright mate?”

You don’t open your eyes but nod at Lucy’s question, feeling her hand on your shoulder without seeing it.

“Do you need help to get up?”

“Please” you mumble.

She makes you stand as easily as you were a 5-year-old child, making you smile softly. You thank Maya with gratefulness when she gives you your things waiting behind the goal and slowly make your way to the locker room.

You look around to see where Leah is, which isn’t missed by Beth who is walking on your other side.

“She’s answering some questions for the TV” the blonde informs you.

You groan and drink more water, still walking. Pretty slowly, you must admit. But you feel dizzy, and you sigh internally when you see Milena running in your direction.

“Hey” she says, with her Italian accent. “Look, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry” you answer with a soft smile. “I’ll need some rest tonight and maybe tomorrow, but other than that it’s okay.”

You watch her bite her lips, like if she’s thinking about something to say. And how to say it. You really hope that she won’t ask you out now, because you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“Can I write to you tomorrow? To know how you are feeling. I really feel very guilty”

You were going to answer something, but you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and a body suddenly pressed against yours.

“She will post an update on her Instagram tomorrow. And don’t worry for her, she’s between great hands” Leah says, before looking at you. “Are you okay to leave, Babe?”

You repress a smile and take a small breath.

“Yeah, let’s go. See you”

You give a smile to Milena, who you feel sorry for. You know that she never meant to hurt you, but Leah seems to take her for the only responsible of the accident.

“You know that I wasn’t looking either?” you mumble to Leah.

“It doesn’t matter. Sarina told me we can leave now; the staff asked for a taxi so we don’t have to wait on anyone. Would you like to shower in your hotel room rather than here?”

“Sounds good” you mumble again.

In a record time, Leah manages to take all your things and put them in your two bags, change herself in a training suit and help you to do the same. You are starting to feel tired and dozens in the cab on Leah’s shoulder.

“Baby you have to wake up. I can’t carry you in your room” Leah whispers when you are in front of the hotel, gently kissing your temple.

Usually, you love the fact that you are higher than Leah. You love how she easily fits in your arms, how you can hold her and feel like you are protecting her from everything and everyone.

But right now, you really would love for her to be able to carry you.

She does a bit though, holding you firmly against her while you are going to the lift and then to your room. You let yourself fall on the bed when you arrive inside your room, letting Leah deal with your bags and everything else.

“Come on Baby, we have to wash the game out of you. Then you can go in bed until the staff members come again”

“I just want to sleep” you groan.

“I know. But you will feel better.”

You do feel better, Leah is right. She helps you to take your shower, affectionately dry you with a towel after, help you to put fresh pajamas on and then even brush your teeth and your hair.

She then takes a quick shower too and it’s with wet hair and in one of your t-shirts that she opens the door of your room for the staff. The t-shirt easily covers her smaller frame, the tissue going until her knees.

They make some more tests on you, asking several questions to Leah too. You have trouble staying focused, but only because you are very tired. You don’t hear them leaving, opening your eyes again when you feel the bed move when Leah crawls on it.

“Are you sure you’re not in pain?”

You hum, snuggling against her warm body. They gave you some morphine earlier anyway. Leah lets you do it and you sigh happily when she starts to stroke your neck with her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted because of your ex”

Leah’s whisper takes you by surprise. You probably almost never heard Leah saying that she was sorry for something so serious. Opening your eyes again, you search hers.

“I’m sorry for the way you learned it” you whisper back. “But it has nothing to do with you. It was before knowing you could be in any way interested in me. I was still in my “Forgetting Leah” era”

Leah chuckles and you smile hearing that sound. You close your eyes again, the tiredness being more and more hard to fight against.

“I’m glad you never managed to get over me” Leah says after some silence, playing with your hair.

“I will never be able to get over you”

You feel like your voice is low and your words aren’t very well articulated, but Leah seems to understand very easily what you are saying.

“I was hoping to” Leah mumbles too. “Now sleep, you little menace.”

You groan softly once again, making Leah smile. You happily let her kiss your face several times, finishing with your lips. You manage to whisper that you love her and it seems to you that Leah say it back, but you are not really sure. Because you are already asleep then.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 4 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.0k (can you see the trend)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), still a lot of cussing, some mature themes (no smut, sorry), we're finally in the headquarters!, the story moves significantly along here (i think)

a/n. this one took a second to get out, but i hope the wait was worth it! we're going knee-deep into the storyline, so brace yourselves for the nitty gritty. the dialogue here was too fun to write tho lol

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

Neither of you says anything about what happened.

After you used your quirk on Masaki and the rest of his crew, eventually convincing them to let you take off the bugs and censor the cameras in the evenings, you and Bakugou were briefed about a few more details before you went your separate ways, returning home to pack up your things and spend your last night alone for the foreseeable future.

The trek back to the subway station was quiet, with Bakugou leading the way and you trailing a few feet behind. The silence that enveloped the both of you bordered on tense more than awkward, and you itched to confront him about unceremoniously jumping you, but restrained yourself at the looming thought of the trackers planted firmly against your chest.

As much as it pained you to think about it, from this point on, you have to work double time on biting your tongue and watching your words. Just your words and location—if you’re lucky—but your facial expressions and movements, too, when there are cameras around.

Fortunately, there weren’t any when Bakugou didn’t step out of the carriage just as the automated voice announced his stop, nor when he wordlessly got out of the train beside you at yours. Your face contorted in evident confusion in those two instances, to which he only tossed you silencing looks. It didn’t take long for you to realize it’d be suspicious if Bakugou didn’t see you home—his alleged girlfriend—this late into the night.

And so you rolled with it.

You even went ahead and thanked him with the sweetest possible voice you can muster when you reached your front door, as well as wished him a safe trip back home. You think you caught him off guard, but he was able to quickly gather himself and mutter back a few words of gratitude before telling you to get a good night’s rest.

You couldn’t.

Aside from the paranoia that came with knowing someone or some people were listening to your very breathing, the anxiety about this whole mess that you’ve walked into was too palpable for you just to ignore. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours—brain buzzing with a hundred what-ifs and hypothetical scenarios—before you eventually knocked out at around 3 AM.

You promptly woke up at 7 AM a few hours later, albeit begrudgingly and all thanks to your bothersome alarm tone. You had to show up at work, despite it being a Saturday, to file an indefinite leave as soon as possible. Annoyance shot through you as you remembered Kouki’s dismissive remark about your job in contrast to Bakugou’s.

You shook it off.

There were more important things to deal with, such as the guilt that bloomed in your gut as you turned in the paperwork to Yuzuki, your school’s HR personnel, who, at the sight of them, visibly deflated.

“You’re going on a leave?” she asked that cool morning, incredulous and tone somewhat begging you to say no.

“Yeah…” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

“But why?” she pressed, sitting up behind her desk that’s riddled with knickknacks and picture frames of her and her toddler. “You never take off from work. And,” she enunciated, “…the kids need you, Y/N.”

Your polite smile faltered at the mention of the kids.

“Yeah, well…” you started, unsure of what to say next. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a temp, what with the recent licensure exam results. The kids won’t even notice I’m gone, I promise.”

She cocked her head to the side, frowning. “I highly doubt that.”

It didn’t matter if she had her doubts, though, because this was happening. You braced yourself to tell Yuzuki just that, but to your relief, she didn’t push further after that exchange, opting to half-heartedly process your request instead.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, you were already cleared by her department and now officially on a short indefinite leave without pay.

In an attempt to take your mind off of potentially losing your job, you stopped by the grocery store on your way home and picked up a few items, such as toiletries and other things you may need for your stay in the headquarters. There was no telling when you’d get to shop for your necessities again, so you went full ham and spent the money you usually budgeted meticulously to the nearest cent. Besides, if you succeeded in this mission, you wouldn’t have to worry about finances for the next year, at the very least.

You were about to head to the check-out counter when your eyes caught the display of…house slippers in the back aisle.

You paused at the sight of them.

If you were going to be under house arrest, you might as well be cozy while doing so.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed a beige pair for yourself, and a black pair for Bakugou. You had no idea what his feet size was, but those were the largest they carried, and so that’d have to do. Plus, you doubted quirk supremacists were mindful enough to provide their hostages with comfortable footwear.

It was already around 4 PM when you arrived home with your arm-numbing groceries and takeout dinner in tow. Setting them aside by your kitchen counter, you quickly got started on gathering your necessities. You blasted your favorite album as you packed your suitcase partly to make the arduous process more bearable, but mostly to drown out the voices that fought to take the reins in your head. You were nervous—very much so—but there was no going back from this.

And so with a heavy heart and a churning stomach, you swiftly got to work, and by dinner time, you were already packed up and ready to go. After going through your checklist one more time and confirming that everything was accounted for, you got changed into fresh, more appealing clothes and scarfed down the meal you purchased to-go after shopping.

You sat in your living room with all your things stacked beside you on the couch, waiting, though it didn’t take long for Kouki to materialize by the kitchen with that irritatingly haughty expression on his face.

You tried to ignore the disgust that sprung as you watched him step on your freshly washed rug with his booted feet, choosing to shift your attention upwards instead. You observed him as he eyed your belongings with mild disinterest, before shifting to regard you.

“Ready?” he asked, holding up one hand for you to take, while the other moved to touch the pile of stuff.

You didn’t bother to verbalize your consent, resorting to just nodding as you gingerly took his hand. Your surroundings instantly morphed the moment that you did, and you found yourself going through the now-familiar motions, emerging smack dab in the middle of your floor’s hallway a few seconds later.

Kouki was gone just as quickly as he arrived, apparently way above helping you move your things to the space at the end of the hall. The same goes for the twins, who only watched you as you lugged your baggage into the room.

You locked eyes with the female guard, and for a second, you debated engaging her in conversation.

You already knew what to say. You’d ask her if they were sure about you staying in, when Kouki can just teleport you to your respective apartments at the end of each day if they’re so worried about you getting spotted.

Besides, you thought as she glared at you with seemingly unfounded hate, that means we’ll be out of your hair.

But as tempting as it was to bring up that alternative at the moment, you ultimately thought better against it.

You already used your luck to convince them to turn off the trackers at night—something they probably wouldn’t do if you and Bakugou lived outside due to the lack of backup surveillance. It simply wouldn’t be smart and cautious of them if they did. You also didn’t want to undo that already tall order of a bargain when what you needed the most was the privacy in which you could discuss the mission and steps moving forward.

Besides, you bet your money it’s not just that. The teleportation quirk of that old geezer has to have a limitation somehow…

You let all these simmer in your head as you settled in for the night. To your chagrin—you wanted at least one night where you get to sleep on the decent-looking bed—Bakugou showed up not an hour later with his own luggage.

You didn’t say anything to each other aside from brief ‘Hey’s’ as he entered the room and unpacked his belongings, as well as when he disappeared into the small comfort room and showered.

You decided then and there that you both had to work on your conversing skills if you wanted a shot at making this ruse believable for the sake of the mission.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, decked out in lounge clothes and haphazardly drying his ash-blonde hair with a towel, it was already 8 PM sharp—your agreed-upon time to retreat for the night and consequently, remove your trackers.

And so you wordlessly filed out of your room, only to see the twins already at your front door, waiting. You doubted they ever left their post ever since you arrived.

You eyed the male twin as he sashayed into your room before his sister called you to attention. Other than that, the exchange was nothing but silent and perhaps a little bit hostile as the woman roughly stuck her hand up Bakugou’s shirt then yours, similar to last time, and removed the devices. You fought back a wince just as she ripped it from your skin, leaving a stinging feeling in its wake.

You could tell she was resisting the urge to shove you back to your room when the deed was done. You didn’t want to risk being her punching bag, so with a curt nod, you promptly turned back and once again entered the room, with Bakugou following you just as the other twin exited and closed the door behind him. Looking up, you immediately registered how the cameras were now facing down—covered—and the red, flickering lights were nowhere to be seen.

An instantaneous wave of relief flooded through you.

Bakugou must’ve noticed, because he whipped to face you, and the disturbed expression on his face was enough to shut you up.

He tilted his head, perhaps gesturing to the rest of the room, and it took you a second, but you eventually managed to make out what he was trying to say.

Shut your trap, his icy stare told you. Check the room for bugs.

And so with a nod of understanding, you tossed him a look right back before quite literally turning the room upside down. It probably took you at least 10 minutes to uncover and check every surface, nook, and cranny, but by the time you both were pretty sure you were safe, you were already stifling a yawn.

And having a hawk eye must come with the job description, because that didn’t go unmissed by the pro-hero, who wordlessly took one of the two pillows from the bed, as well as the throw blanket on top of the actual duvet cover, before tossing both on the brown couch.

You were just about to thank him for preparing your ‘bed’ for you, but you didn’t get to, because you were very much robbed of all words when he plopped himself down on the couch, wrapping himself with the quilt.

“What are you—”

“Don’t argue,” he cut you off, his commanding tone comically juxtaposing how snug he looked with his head barely peeking out of the cloth. You’d laugh at the way his large feet were poking out at the end of it if you weren’t in a contentious mood.

You frowned. “You’re the guest of honor. I should be the one sleeping on the couch.”

“If it bothers you that much—” Bakugou piped from where he laid comfortably on the (p)leather furniture, “—we can take turns. Tomorrow, I get to sleep on the bed, and so on.”

“But—”

“Conversation’s over. ‘Night.”

With that, Bakugou flipped on his side, turning his back against you, effectively shooting the conversation down in its entirety.

You stood there for what felt like a couple more minutes, keen on shaking him awake, maybe even yanking him off the couch and planting yourself on it before he could wrap his head around what was happening, but you ultimately decided to let it go, at least for now.

You wished him a good night as you turned off the lights and snuck into the queen-sized bed a few moments later, although you bet he was already fast asleep based on the lack of a reply.

Which was good for him, because he needed the rest for what was about to crash into you the next day.

Apparently, Masaki wasn’t kidding when he said groups like theirs needed the space to conduct their activities, because they sure handle a lot.

At 8 AM, you were roused awake by a violent knocking on your door, and you could tell Bakugou was awoken by the very same thing, because he shot up in alarm just as you did. You quickly got up and padded to the entryway, trying to ignore the silly embarrassment of being seen in your threadbare pajamas in broad daylight, before whipping to look at the man. You didn’t have to say it, though—Bakugou was already grabbing his pillow and blanket and plopped into the bed, lying down as if he was there the entire night. Only when he was fully settled did you turn the knob open, only to see the female twin scowling at you. Her hand was held up, on top of which were two trackers.

“It’s breakfast time,” she spat out—literally, some of her saliva landing on you. She looked over your shoulder to glare at Bakugou. “Hurry up and get ready. You’ve got a full day ahead of you.”

Behind you, a distinct grumble sounded out across the room, and you glanced back to see Bakugou getting up from the mattress and folding his blanket, a deep frown etched on his sharp features.

Looks like someone’s a morning person, you thought to yourself.

Not wanting to aggravate her even further, you wasted no time in getting dressed and presentable enough. You debated on whether or not to spend five minutes putting on makeup, ultimately deciding to do so, with you ending up patting on just enough product to look eye-catching before you and Bakugou went down to the mess hall to eat breakfast.

Immediately upon entering the space, you found yourself thankful for that extra five minutes because all eyes were on you. Well, maybe more on Bakugou, but they inevitably drifted to you, the person who walked next to him side by side. You could hear the people whisper to themselves as you moved to sit at the table near the back, before it hit you and you froze.

“What?” asked Bakugou from across you, who followed suit and paused, butt hanging mid-air.

“Come and sit next to me,” you blurted out, and before he could react in a way that would incriminate you both: “I want to sit beside you, babe.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened ever so minutely at the pet name, his face then sobering up as if he just realized what you were trying to do.

You wished you could spell it out for him, that couples tend to sit next to each other rather than across, and…you needed to seem like one who is head over heels for each other around these people as well. Thankfully, you didn’t have to, because Bakugou merely nodded without question, before rounding the table and seating himself right next to you.

You did your best to tune out the looks and murmuring throughout the entire meal, after which you got swept to one of the halls for an introductory talk for the new members. There were eleven of you in total, including you and Bakugou, the rest of whom you didn’t recognize. They didn’t even hide their surprise and awe when the two of you walked in and sat yourselves at the farthest row beside each other. You tried to radiate an aura of friendliness, smiling at the others when they looked at you, and then beaming at Bakugou whenever you caught him looking your way.

You could tell he was having a hard time playing the part, his smile strained whenever he attempted to return the motion. It was probably after the third time of trying to get a reaction from him when you mustered the courage to bring a hand to his shoulder, kneading the muscle as a form of an affectionate gesture, but mainly to get him to relax. He initially tensed at the contact, but eventually loosened up as you continued the action.

Soon enough, the talk commenced, with someone you didn’t know presenting himself as Kazuma, one of the officers of the organization. He went on to formally introduce the association, named The Quirk Coalition, as a group of like-minded individuals who aim for a future where quirks are nurtured and fostered to their fullest potential in a democratic society that puts a primacy on said powers. You noted how they conveniently left out the part where they detest the weak and the quirkless, although you did not comment on it. You only glanced at Bakugou one time, who looked onto the stage with tight lips.

Kazuma also went through the hierarchy of the organization, starting with Masaki at the top just as you suspected, then Sayaka and Kouki, followed by Hiroto and Omiru—the two who you recognized as the twins, looking like they just got their mugshot taken in the photos. Kazuma sat there at the lower tier alongside several other officers, under which were the regular members, totaling about 70—some of whom live in the headquarters and most going in and out, having normal jobs during the day and families to tend to.

You don’t know how they got it, but at the bottom row of the chart was a picture of you, right beside Bakugou dressed in his full hero gear.

You let the reality sink in as Kazuma droned on about the group’s beliefs, how they equally valued their ideals and the people who carried out these ideals. You made a mental note of this piece of information, before accidentally zoning out for the rest of the lecture.

The next seven days went on roughly the same way, with either of the twins serving as your unfriendly alarm to demonstrating PDA in the mess hall during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with talks, history classes, support group sessions, and even quirk training nestled in between mealtimes.

You and Bakugou went through every single thing together, from sitting out the ‘classes’ where the teachers essentially waxed poetic about rewritten history with a strong bias against the quirkless, to attending what felt like group therapy where you each took turns sharing your ambitions and goals as members of the organization. Bakugou even partook in one of the quirk training sessions, wherein he practiced shooting precise targets while propelling himself in the air.

You couldn’t decide if he was trying to act all serious for the mission or was just showing off—could’ve been both, really, but regardless, his efforts were enough to catch the eyes of the fellow members working on their respective quirks. You, on the other hand, sat to the side and watched the pro-hero do his thing, not being able to ‘practice’ anything without a partner to ‘boost’—or really, manipulate.

Needless to say, you’ve both been busting your ass pretending to be eager, dedicated members, but aside from the information readily provided in the forums, you haven’t had much luck extracting details that could prove to be useful for the mission, a fact that you’re now planning to bring up with Bakugou, a full week into moving into the headquarters…

…After you finish checking the bedroom for bugs.

It’s become some sort of an unspoken nightly routine for the both of you. The second the door shuts behind you after the trackers have been taken off and you’ve checked that the cameras are pointed downwards, capped, and are not blinking anymore, you go to your respective halves of the room and thoroughly check each inch for a wiretap. Neither of you dare to say anything compromising until you’ve completed the survey, and even then you’ve telepathically agreed to watch your choice of words.

Still, you can’t deny the familiar sense of reprieve whenever this time of the day comes along, and you’ve since associated these moments with Bakugou with comfort.

Which is probably why you have the audacity to joke around.

“Are they comfy?” you ask just as you plaster your butt down into the couch. You’ve had your fun yesterday, sleeping easily in the soft bed. You watch Bakugou as he eyes you warily, sitting on the edge of the mattress, facing you.

He huffs, crossing his legs. “Are what comfy?”

You point to his feet with your lips. “The slippers. They were buy one take one, you know.”

At that, he smirks. You can’t help but feel your own smile growing.

“I don’t think that’s something you should be bragging about, princess.”

Flying right past the tail end of that sentence for your sanity, you force a frown on your face. “Why not? It was a great deal. And, I’m sure yours are comfy. Mine are.”

He leans back on his hands that are firmly planted at his sides. He’s still smirking. “So why bother asking me in the first place if you already knew the answer to the question?”

You open your mouth to retort a witty comment, but come up short. Bakugou’s smirk morphs into a grin when you do. You wrinkle your nose in disdain, “I was just trying to make small talk. You’re welcome, by the way.”

The pro-hero only chuckles at that, before sitting up and bringing his hands forward, one holding and wringing the other arm’s wrist.

You study him for a beat, and then the cameras, which are still turned down and capped with a lens cover.

And when he only continues the rotating motion, you finally speak up.

“…What are we gonna do now?”

Bakugou’s eyes shift upward from his wrist to look at you, the softness that was just in his gaze a second ago now replaced by his trademark caution. You try not to focus on the disappointment of having caused that, as well as the misplaced longing for what was once there.

It takes him a while to reply, his features contorted into a look of deep thought. But when he does so, he straightens his back. “We—”

A barrage of heavy knocks resounds from the door, startling both of you and cutting Bakugou off. It’s immediately followed by a gruff voice, which you can now easily recognize as Hiroto’s.

“You’re not making any noise,” comes his bite, although it’s slightly muffled. “You better think twice about planning something behind our backs, you two.”

You roll your eyes. You understand any hostility coming from the members, as you and Bakugou come with risks that can potentially harm the organization that they hold dearly. But even you can say that the twins are taking it a bit too far with the harsh treatment.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think their being extra hard on you has something to do with Masaki agreeing with the off-surveillance.

“Fucking relax,” Bakugou seethes in their direction. “Just because we’re not audibly having sex doesn’t mean we’re talking shit.”

You snort. Bakugou whips to look at you, the corners of his lips upturned.

That seems to put a plug on Hiroto, because the man doesn’t say anything after that. Once again, you’re met with silence, with you and Bakugou sitting on your respective furniture, looking at anything but each other.

It’s him, though, who finally breaks it a few minutes later with a clear of his throat.

“We keep at it—” Bakugou starts carefully, “—is what I was trying to say earlier. They’re gonna discuss the plans with us sooner than later.”

…Patience, huh?

You can do that.

Nodding, you adjust your position on your seat. You don’t dare to ask him to expound or add your own thoughts on the matter. Better to be safe than sorry, even though you’re pretty sure your room is free of bugs.

So instead, you finally give in and steer the conversation to something that’s been plaguing your mind ever since the commission kidnapped you a little over a week ago.

“Bakugou,” you begin, and he looks at you expectantly. You gulp. “Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Depends on the question.”

“…So might as well shoot your shot,” he finishes when you don’t say anything.

Well, then.

You blurt it out before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Don’t get me wrong, alright? I know you’re strong and all that. But…” you trail off, fixing your eyes on him, “Why did they specifically want you of all heroes?”

Almost instantly, Bakugou’s smug expression is wiped off his face just as it falls.

You scramble to backtrack.

“Sorry if that’s too invas—”

“Are you sure we were batchmates?” he cuts you off, a brow raised in question. “Back in UA?”

You stare at him. Where is he going with this?

“Yeah?” you reply, not at all willing to try and jog his memory with the only prominent exchange between the two of you. So instead, you toss the query back at him: “Why?”

“Because if we were, you would’ve heard about the rumors about me, unless they weren’t as widespread as I thought.”

You feel your brows furrow. “Rumors?”

He peers at you for what feels like an eternity, before shaking his head in what you think is resignation. His body language has changed drastically, you note—the distinct confidence from earlier now long gone, having been replaced with…shame?

He heaves a deep breath.

“I was a bully,” he finally declares, meeting your gaze. “I bullied someone for being quirkless. I guess you could say I had a…” he hesitates, as if he’s trying to filter his words,” …certain mindset up until late into our first year.”

He shakes his head again, which is now bowed down toward the floor. “I did some pretty…awful stuff, to say the least.”

And before you can say anything, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me about what I did.”

“I wasn’t going to,” comes your speedy response. That causes him to look up again and at you, a surprised look written on his face.

“Well, that’s a first.”

“I don’t have to know,” you reason, schooling your features into a neutral, even sincere expression. “Besides, I can clearly see there’s remorse. There’s no need to reopen that can of worms, especially if you’ve tried to make amends.”

You pause, eyeing him. “Have you?”

He tosses you a look of offense, as if you just accused him of being a serial killer. “Of course. And he’s forgiven me. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who feels remorse—” you chuckle, “—just like I said.”

He shoots you a glare, although it’s playful and has no bite to it. “Smartass.”

You grin at him. “I am smart, aren’t I?”

Bakugou doesn’t verbalize his agreement, but he doesn’t deny it either. Instead, he turns the table on you.

“You’re a guidance counselor, aren’t you? You use your quirk on your clients?”

You gasp, insulted. That grants you a smirk from him. “No! Of course, not. What do you take me for?”

He shrugs, “What? It makes sense to me.”

“So should this thing called ethics, which I follow and is very important, especially for people like me who work in the mental health field.”

That doesn’t seem to convince him. “Why’re you in this field, then? If not for its compatibility with your quirk?”

You think about it for a beat.

“I guess you can say my quirk did play a part in all of this, but not as my crutch,” you eventually explain. “Using it made me realize how much I like making people feel and do better, which is something that I now do with evidence-based techniques as a counselor. Plus, my job trains me in identifying emotions, which, you know…”

—helps with maximizing your quirk.

But you don’t say it out loud for fear of getting exposed, and it seems like that’d be unnecessary, because understanding flashes across Bakugou’s eyes. He nods, and that’s all you need to know he gets what you’re leaving unsaid.

“That’s a pretty noble cause,” he offers, although it comes out a bit awkward.

Still, you flash him a genuine smile. He looks away.

…Right at the wall clock, which now reads a little too late o’clock.

“You should get some sleep,” says Bakugou just as you are about to tell him the very same thing.

And when you don’t respond: “Are you sure you wanna sleep on the couch?”

‘What, are you proposing we share the bed?’

…Is what you would say if you were a fucking lunatic, which you’re glad you aren’t, because you don’t know how you’d survive this hell of a mission if you were.

Instead, you nod, shooting him a grateful look as you move to lay back and drape the blanket over your body. “Bask in the luxury of a proper mattress, your highness.”

You don’t get to see his reaction anymore in your new position, but you bet your cheap but surprisingly ergonomic slippers that he’s grinning with the way he snorts loudly.

“Stupid.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[heart-eyed-love]

Spaghetti and Sacrifices

Summary | An obscene amount of candles has you thinking something that Eddie hadn’t intended, at least there’s some spaghetti to make up for that

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing, Mentions of not being a virgin (lies! but dw, it’ll come up again at some point), Eddie has hopeless romanticness running through his blood and doesn’t even know

Pairings | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count | 1.2k

“You know, I made enough for multiple servings not because I wanted you to eat it all.” Wayne eyes Eddie as he slides his coat on getting ready to leave for the night and head out to work.

“Why make so much if you’re gonna judge me for eating it?” Eddie turns his head back to look at his uncle.

“I’ve been seeing Y/n’s mom around less and less, I made enough so maybe you’d invite your friend over and get a good meal in her.” Eddie looks up from his plate of spaghetti and out the window to your trailer, right across from theirs. To no one's surprise the night was getting darker and your mom’s car is still gone. The only light on in your home was through the window that led to your bedroom.

Wayne right. They’ve been seeing less and less of your mom, it’s not like either one of them really went out of their way to seek her out. But she’s your mom, so the casualties were basically required at this point in the friendship.

They wouldn’t be all the surprised if you had seen her just as much as they had lately. You had informed him a few weeks back that she had gotten a new boyfriend and that she seemed to prefer to spend her nights with him now.

“Okay, well I’ll see you in the morning.”Wayne says as slips out the door, out into the night.

Eddie looks down to his plate, he could definitely go for seconds… but he’ll make sure to go get your first. He pulled another plate out of the cabinet before shoveling another slice of the garlic toast into his mouth before heading to the door.

He looked back to the living room area where he would hopefully be sitting with you for the rest of his dinner, but something was missing.

He headed over to the closet in the hallway, grabbing some candles and walking back into the living room. Wayne had a surprising amount of candles and Eddie was gonna use that to his advantage. He set them up on the coffee table in front of the couch.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the candles were needed, he just did. A nice spaghetti dinner, in front of the Tv, with his best friend… yeah, sure. Why not?

Maybe he went a little overboard with the amount of candles but the ambiance was nice so that's all that really matters.

He threw on his jacket and Wayne’s slippers and slipped out the door. Making his way over to your window, tapping on it lightly.

You hear a small tapping at your window, pulling you from the book you were reading. Setting it down and walking to your window you already knew who was gonna be on the other side. You pull it up anyways, with a smirk on your face.

“My mother’s not here, Edward. You can use the front door.” You tease and he’s narrowing his eyes at the use of his full name.

“Yeah, well where’s the fun in that?”

“What is it you need?”

“Wayne made some dinner, spaghetti. Thought you might want some…” He says, finger twirling the ring round the other.

“Is there any garlic bread?” You question, as if it’s a deal breaker.

“You know there is.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in minute.” You say as you turn to slide your shoes on and then turn back in an attempt to shut your window.

“Wait, just climb out the window.” He says, stopping you from shutting it.

“Why?” You laugh in disbelief.

“Your mom’s never home, you never even have to try and be rebellious, just come out the window, it’ll be like you're sneaking out to come meet me.” He smirks, raising his brows.

He held your hand to help you down, you took it begrudgingly, rolling your eyes as you say, “As if I’d ever sneak out to meet you.”

“You know, sometimes you’re a little pain in my ass.” He says once you’re fully out of your window, he takes the window and shuts it.

“Well, good. I’m glad I was able to fulfill my true role in this friendship.” You smile brightly and he’s flicking your forehead. You shove his back as you both walk over to his trailer, he barely budges.

Hopping up the steps of his porch he opens the door for you, shoving your back into the trailer in return. But once you’re in you freeze at the sight.

Candles. So many candles.

The room is relaxing and the smell of Wayne’s meal makes you feel at home. Eddie walks past you and into the kitchen, “You want me to warm the spaghetti up for you?” He asks as he retrieves the plate he had gotten out for you.

You ignore his question, turning to look at him in the kitchen with an arched brow, “Is Wayne here?”

“Uh no…” He scratches the back of his neck, “no, it’s just us….”

“So it’s finally happening, huh?” You ask, causing Eddie to furrow his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re finally giving in to all the rumors people spread?” He’s still confused as you go on, “I’m not a virgin, you know?” And he freezes as you say that statement, the smirk on your face feels like you’re taunting him. He’s VERY confused now. Cause that’s like… that’s huge. He is also trying to connect why that’s important right now, and he’s also trying to understand why the thought is making him feel slightly sick.

But quickly you add, “So, I’m not so sure how well this virgin sacrifice will work for you.” He finally rolls his eyes at your teasing and walks back into the living room, shoving your plate over to you.

“You’re so annoying you know that?”

Only causing you to smile more, “So I’ve been told.”

Eddie watches you as you walk into the kitchen, filling your plate with the spaghetti, throwing a piece of the garlic toast on as well. But as he watched you he couldn’t help but think back to what you had said.

That was a joke too, right? The whole you not being a virgin thing was also part of the joke, right?

You walk back into the living room, shoving a whole forkful of the spaghetti into your mouth as you sit down next to him. “So what’s with the copious amount of candles?” You ask, mouth still full of spaghetti. Sometimes he wonders if you guys are too comfortable with each other… it’s not like it bothers him anymore, your little quirks, he just wonders if he’s getting too deep into this.

“Wayne likes them.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure he does, but maybe not all at the same time.” You giggle.

“It smelt weird in here.” He lied.

“It’s two men living in a small trailer, it always smells weird.” Not even looking at him as you say it, like it’s just common knowledge. Obviously, you’re teasing, but sometimes Eddie has a hard time catching on.

“No, it- Wait, does it?” He asks a tad bit more frantically than he would’ve liked to come off. Causing you to let out a loud laugh.

“Jeez, it’s just too easy with you.”

He’s rolling his eyes, hiding the small smile fighting to make its way on his face by retrieving the remote and turning on the Tv, “Just shut up and eat your spaghetti.”

@evileyeandthecattywhumps

[seradyn]

A Beast of Greed Who Fell in Love

In honor of the Sylus myth dropping, I got possessed by writing demons and wrote this in one sitting. At 7am (I work swing shift lmao) 🫠🫠

Sylus pov as he thinks about how he fell in love with you, and reader absolutely spoiling him with love and affection. Tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive at the end 😇

Not gender neutral, but no description of reader is given, just some pronoun usage. No use of y/n

Word count: 2190

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sylus could say, with utter certainty, that he had never felt such contentment before.

What more could an infernal creature desire, he wondered, than to have his most beloved treasure nestled into his chest, resting with him as he lay in that meadow of maroon flowers, swaying in the temperate breeze that blew across the grass? How could he fight the satisfied smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at her, his tail wound possessively around her leg, his arms cradling her fragile form as his clawed thumbs rubbed tiny circles into her skin. His heart beat, as he gazed at her, and he could hear it chant mine, mine, mine, a symphony of his most exquisite desires. And she, too, had a blissful smile on her face, eyes closed as she battled the temptation to nap. To let yourself be vulnerable and, in turn, fall prey to this most monstrous being, who held you so gently.

But you were already his, weren’t you?

He could see it, in the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him, how you didn’t try to hide your love for him even slightly. He could feel it, when you both embraced, your hearts so close, he could feel them beating as one. He could taste it, when you were close enough to share a breath, when you leaned forward expectantly, like he hung the moon and stars just for you, like he was the reason there were bright summer days filled with laughter and silly dares, or that he caused the warm, cozy fires you huddled against in the cold, brewed the cup of hot tea in your hands, whose taste reminded you of cinnamon and family gatherings.

Like he was your world. And fuck, if he didn’t feel like it, with the way you looked at him.

Gods, he wanted that. To be your world. Forever he wanted that. To be your world until the stars went out, until the planets collapsed, until the universe winked out of existence, and he was plunged into darkness again.

Because you were his world, too.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, when you became more than a means to an end. Perhaps it was when he gripped you in his talons, ready to easily snuff out the life of another helpless interloper, and instead of seeing your eyes clouded with fear, instead of the begging for your measly life he expected, he saw them harden with defiance. Or, perhaps, it was the first time he brought you here, to this very field, where you held his hands so tenderly, kissed his claws as you profused how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you. Or, maybe, it was even today, when he took you flying again, how you laughed as the wind whipped your hair, and you reached out to run your hands through the passing clouds. Those raw, natural and alive moments where he could swear he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Either way, he realized it didn’t truly matter. Because regardless of when you went from being some hopeless, hapless girl, and became the very reason for his continued existence, he was utterly consumed by reverence for you. If you asked him to raze the world, asked him to carve out his heart for you, he’d ask how thoroughly you wanted the earth to be scorched, how you would like his heart presented to you.

You were his. And he, yours.

His nose twitched, and he let out a soft sigh. He could scent you on the wind. This perfect, perfect creature. He wanted to consume it, gulp down your essence like one who only knew dry sand and crumbling earth feeling the lapping of ocean waves for the very first time. He wanted to submerge himself in it, drown himself in this warmth, this scent, this feeling that felt like how home was always supposed to feel.

Although, he was wise enough to know not to drink the salty brine, despite its temptations. If he allowed her sweet nectar to touch his tongue, he may not know how to stop. May not be able too until there was nothing of you left, trying desperately to feed an insatiable maw. He was a greedy thing, he was well aware, and knew if you permitted him a taste, you may never see the light of day again. His primal urges that demanded he sequester you deep in his cave of treasures, where you belonged, to hoard you like the most precious being that you were, would be too strong to fight. His urge to fucking lick you, clean you and cover you in his own scent, like the great wyrms did to court each other, as he was sure his own parents once did, would take over, and you would see the truth of the beast you laid with.

Perhaps, though, he didn’t do as well of a job hiding them as he thought. His beloved stirred, sitting up to look at him with what he could only describe as pure, unfiltered adoration. Your eyes - they sparkled brighter than any gem or coin in his collection. Like someone had flown high enough to chase the stars, managed to catch one in their rapacious claws, just so they could dust your eyes with its light. Your smile - bright enough to rival the sun, and warm enough that it felt better than basking on the smoothest, sun-kissed rocks. Your hair softly danced on the breeze, the mid evening sky an orange-gold crown on your head, and Sylus thinks he understood why mortals go to church so often; for a chance to see something half as divine as you.

Absentmindedly, you began to trace the red cracks along his chest with your fingers, watching as it is guided to the red jewel encrusted on his chest. He manages to suppress a delighted shudder, but allows himself the pleased growl that rumbles in his chest, much like a purr, as the soft pads glide across the shattered glass of his pearlescent skin. He watches in unconcealed fascination as your hand is led to his faintly glowing heart, before starting anew on a different line, further down. He lets his eyes close, leaning his head back as you map out his body, of how his scales turn to pillowy flesh and back again. He can feel when you finished on his left side, where you started, and move to the right, leaving no part of him un-lavished by your affections.

When you finish there too, he looks down at you again, curiosity scampering across his expression. You flash him a look briefly, a spark of mischief igniting in your eyes, before you abruptly lean forward and begin to pepper the edges of his ruby heart with kisses. He sucked in a breath through his pointed teeth, his eyes slightly wide as you surprise him again by utterly spoiling him. Pressure built in his chest, just below your sweet lips, and he let out a shaky breath, trying to find relief before those unfamiliar emotions became too much. His tail squeezed your leg as you rounded the arrow shaped emblem over his heart, not stopping until you covered the entire outline of it with your decadent touch. When you arrived back where you started, you paused to leave a long, drawn out peck directly on his crystalline heart. His eyes almost rolled back in his head in sheer ecstasy, his tail lightly thumping against your rear in pure delight.

You laughed as you pulled away, the sound like a swell of music that made him feel like he was floating. He couldn’t help but chuckle as you patted his tail to get it to settle, scooching forward so your face was right above his. He saw the intent in your eyes, that mixture of fire and wine that made him feel intoxicated, made him want to kneel at your feet, obey your every command.

When your lips touched his, it felt like he was in heaven. That magical place that mortals coveted more than anything. He had no doubt it was a fallacy made to comfort the dead and dying; a place of endless pleasure and devoid of suffering was naive to even dream about. But when your mouth moved against his, when he gently swiped your bottom lip with his forked tongue, and you opened your mouth to let him taste you, breathe you in…he thinks he may have just found it.

And it is his. You are his.

He hummed into your mouth, chasing your lips as you tried to gulp down air. It was a long moment before you parted, but you eventually leaned away from him. He had to fight the snarl that bubbled in his throat, his tail tightening around your leg just so, and a clawed, beastial hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you back down, your lips reuniting, and he held your cheek with his other hand as he was returned to bliss.

You let out a surprised squeak as he did this, before letting out a giggle into his mouth. It took all of his willpower not to beat his wings against the cold dirt and lash his tail in complete euphoria at the sound. He nipped at her lips instead, thinking of how he would carve out the eardrums of anyone who dared to hear your angelic laugh. He was a greedy creature, and your sounds were his, for him alone. Your smiles would be directed at him alone, your laugh his to cherish alone. He must be a monster, he thinks, to steal the world's most precious flower and hide it away so none but him are permitted to admire its immaculate beauty.

But he is fine with that. He’ll happily play the monster, if it means he gets to keep you all to himself.

Slowly, you eased off his lips, yet you continued to kiss him, trailing a path up to the tendrils of scales that adorn his cheeks. He returned the favor, groaning quietly in appreciation as he pressed his greedy mouth into your neck, running his tongue along your pulse as you peppered his face with kisses. Although, because you simply must always do what he doesn’t expect, he finds himself frozen as you smoothly glide your hands up, grasping both his horns in your doughy palms and stroking them up and down, your nails scraping against his scalp as you reach the base of them. His head falls back again, a sound escaping his lips somewhere between a hiss and a purr. Gods, why did that feel so good? You must be an enchantress, a witch who has hexed him, to make him feel so many things he never even thought possible. He held you impossibly tighter, his claws nearly digging grooves into your back.

You chuckled from your place between his brows - he made it no secret he was putty in your hands. And it was because you cradled him so gently, allowed him to shape himself as he saw fit, that he permitted you to know such things. Would trust you, out of everyone, not to shape him in your own image, as you could if you chose. No, instead, he felt your hot breath roll across his ear as you leaned down to whisper to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a bated breath at that, pulling you away to look you in the eyes. He once anguished over this, thought himself undeserving. You are his most precious gem, the apple of his eye, his dearly beloved, deserving of being draped in only the finest from his hoard, bathed in the softest silks from faraway lands, cherished and worshiped above all else. Where does a creature such as himself find the audacity to ask for your hand as he walks into oblivion, he wondered?

But, now, he only smirks. “I’ll hold you to that,” he purred, winding his tail further up your leg in promise.

You nodded once, satisfied. “You better,” you say, taking his hand, pecking the back of it. “Because you’re the love of my life.”

Sylus smiles. A real, genuine smile, while his heart hurts with how full it feels, like it might burst from his chest and soar into the clouds, where he can laugh while he chases it down. He wondered if he were to throw himself from the highest cliffs, let the wind whistle past him, if these feelings, this lightness he now felt, would carry him into the sky, and he wouldn’t even need to lift his wings to fly.

He tilts your chin up with a single talon, rising to rest his forehead against yours. “And you are mine,” he whispered, prayed, revered. Declared it to all who would listen, could listen. “My beloved.”

Because now that he had you, secure in the knowledge that you were his, he was never letting you go.

You were his. Are his. Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Sylus (and LNDS) fic 🙌🙌 I have so many in the works and on the brain, including a huge long fic, but we’ll see what happens/what I post. One thing at a time 😌

Also it’s been like a year since my last fic lmaoooooo

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today

part one. part two.

you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.

john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.

both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.

"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."

you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.

it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.

"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.

"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."

"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"

"here here!"

you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"

john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."

"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."

before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.

person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.

you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.

your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.

you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.

"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."

"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.

pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.

almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.

without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.

you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.

time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.

"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."

kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."

"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."

"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"

"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.

the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.

"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.

"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.

they were identical.

"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.

when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.

"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.

"two compasses, one for each kid."

before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.

the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.

"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"

you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.

your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.

"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"

you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.

"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"

"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."

you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.

"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."

you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.

when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.

the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.

"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.

and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.

"two near-death experiences will do that,"

"two near-death experiences so far.."

you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.

the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.

you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.

but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.

no harm, no foul, right?

taglist!

@rainingcecilias @gigistalked @loverofmarsss

[fangsandfeels]

The "they need to find someone Solas doesn't know" excuse is weak. Because:

Solas already knows who Rook is. He doesn't need much time to know who Rook is, it's not a problem for him. He has been studying and manipulating people for centuries - just because Rook is a wild card isn't going to work on him. At the same time, Rook doesn't know jack about Solas - they have never met him, they have never traveled with him. All they know about Solas, they have heard from Varric - and this is not enough, which allows Solas to manipulate them (yes, I know what happens to Varric). Also, yes, Solas knows how Leliana and Josephine operate, but that's not going to stop them - and it should not stop them when the fate of the world is at stake. Moreover, the original Inquisition group at least knows Solas - and they are more aware of how cunning he can be, and if they listened attentively to Cole, they know even a bit more about him. Rook does not have even these crumbs of knowledge, while Solas gets under their skin easily. So, to bet on a stranger just because it's someone Solas doesn't know is a terrible idea.

The Inquisitor and their circle are the only ones who know Solas' true nature because they witnessed it personally. This is why they take it seriously - because they got proof. However, it's going to be insanely had to prove the threat to anyone else and then tell them to go find Solas. At the same time, intentionally holding back information about what Solas really is means sending the "someone Solas doesn't know" to their death. They go after Solas, thinking it's just a really strong mage - and they don't know that it's actually an ancient god. That absolutely can't go wrong.

Now, to other matters:

Venatori should not even be a thing. Venatori rose to power only because of the Corypheus - and with Corypheus dead they should lose a lot of their influence because they no longer have the Elder God to rally around. Without a real ancient magister at their side, their ideas of restoring the Imperium to its former grandeur are merely delusions and they should be bleeding influence by the events of the Veilguard. Moreover, if the Inquisitor chooses to employ mages and destroys the Venatori plans, they are barely a presence in the entire game due to the harsh blow they received. Moreover, Calpernia, who leads Venatori, only joined Corypheus because she wanted to see Tevinter free of corruption. So, if she dies or leaves, the Venatori don't have their god and they don't have their leader - there is no way there is no infighting in such scenarios. So, at best there should be some Venatori cults present - but they won't be having that much power because they no longer have structure, they no longer have their god-magister, and they have nothing to sway magisters on their side - especially if they failed to provide any alternative to Corypheus in 10 years and went back to worshipping the Old Gods. It makes no sense for the Venatori to be the main bad guys because the entire Tevinter fucking sucks already. It's has a horrible, hedonistic and power-obsessed ruling class where dominating the weak is considered good manners. Dorian should be having his hands full by fighting the entire Senate on such concepts as "slavery is bad" and "we should treat non-mages as people" - because Tevinter abhors change and its power is full of assholes like Aurelian Titus. The Venatori are just one shade of ugly the Tevinter has - and not the most prominent one. To make them the main problem is lazy writing.

Sera also joins the Inquisition because she saw what happened after the Breach was opened - so it's logical for her to not want it to happen again. If the Inquisitor accepts Sera's invitation in the Trespasser DLC, they cooperate quite well with the Friends of the Red Jenny. Also, Friends of the Red Jenny are implied to operate throughout the entire Thedas and have quite a history (they've been mentioned since DA:O). So, for them not to be mentioned at all during the events makes no sense.

If Cassandra rebuilds the Seekers, she is able to deal with emerging cults and unrest quite swiftly (according to the endings). Also, she spent years chasing Hawke because she held them responsible for the Mage-Templar war, then she fully committed herself to cause of closing the Breach, to the point she stays by the Inquisitor's side even if she loathes them. And she is going to stop now, after it's revealed that the threat isn't gone? There is no way she won't be an active participant. Even the fact that Seekers aren't welcome isn't going to stop her.

The entire sentiment behind the Trepasser was: yes, Solas made fools of us all, but we can't let it hold us back because he will destroy the world if we don't do anything - and we must stop him at any cost.

Basically, it meant that the Inquisitor and their allies were going to try harder, learn what they can and find new resources, new information, any leverage possible. This is why the Inquisitor sets their course for Tevinter at the end of Trespasser: they were preparing to cooperate with a controversial state, pulling strings and calling favors, finding people with an ample knowledge of magic and ancient history that could assist them with finding any clues; they were prepared to work together with the people Solas didn't probably expect them to work with. They were thinking outside the box and not looking for traditional allies - this is what the end of the Trespasser implied, not the "let's find an absolute rando who may or may not confuse Solas with their wild antics."

Varric and Harding should have been among many people actively looking for Solas, but the idea that Varric volunteered because he was getting Anders flashbacks comes from nowhere. Varric spent years being Anders' friend, taking care of him, making sure gangs and bandits stay away from his clinic - he was there from the beginning to the end. However, Solas is nothing like Anders. He plays his role of a humble elven apostate perfectly. He shaped his plans and ideas long ago - and he didn't depend on Varric's support like Anders did.

At the same time, Varric doesn't influence Solas' opinions as much as the Inquisitor does - which is why the Inquisitor's relationship with Solas (whether romantical, platonic or antagonistic plays a major role in the game).

Yes, it makes sense for Varric and Harding to take part in the search for Solas - but I can't believe that Rook at least hadn't been approved by the Inquisitor (especially if Rook is an elf because Solas has elven spies and these spies would deceive for him, murder for him, and die for him, so every elven agent should be checked thoroughly or even monitored upon being accepted) and that Rook doesn't have means to contact the Inquisitor for further instructions in case something happens to Varric, or Harding or both of them. This is counter-productive.

Finally, for all that talk about Solas' agents, there are none in Veilguard. None to stand between Solas and Rook's group during the ritual, none to be contacted by Solas from the Fade to carry out his orders, none at all. Not just that, but Strife instantly calls Solas an asshole. The reason? Varric told them that Solas was Fen'Harel - and Strife just took Varric's word for it, not considering the greater implications (that if Fen'Harel is real, then elven gods are real).

So, where are all these agents, sabotaging the Inquisitor's work and their allies' efforts? Where?

This is my problem with Veilguard. Because I actually played the previous games. Because I knew what they were building up - and Veilguard forgot like 97% of the stuff built up in the previous games.

Also, Veilguard's codex entries means nothing to me ever since they destroyed all the previous regions HoF, Hawke, and the Inquisitor fought for in a single text (which even fails to be consistent with the plot because Harding and Emmrich go to a camping trip to Ferelden which is supposed to be viciously attacked by the darkspawn at that point). And don't even get me started at the secret ending.

The lack of participation from the Inquisition's cast wasn't intentional or part of the plot - Bioware just didn't give a fuck.

Bioware writing team has a comfy, sheltered life and it shows

I'm sorry, but how come that the only people Inquisitor sent to look for Solas were Varric and Harding? How come that the only people recruited in 10 years of pursuing Solas were Neve and Rook? Do the writers understand that this is NOT how a serious effort looks like?

What about Leliana? Divine or not, she is still Sister Nightingale with an immense spywork. You'd think she won't mobilize everything she has to track Solas and his followers?

What about Josephine? What, she decided "nah, I'm done" and didn't use any of her diplomatic talents and connections to let the Inquisitor's agents have access, permissions or information they need?

What about Dorian? As a political figure, you'd think he will be the first Minrathous contact for the Inquisitor allies, the one arranging things and providing insights?

What about Cassandra and her Seekers? Isn't she interested in stopping another world-ending threat?

What about Sera and her sabotaging potential? If she organized the group of people for performing vigilante acts, people who are her eyes and ears, how come nobody from her group is helping with the effort?

I get it why Varric takes part in it - he knew Solas, the Inquisitor trusts him and his judgement, but for the game to imply that all the responsibility was lumped on Varric's shoulders is fucking disgraceful. I get it writers, Varric is popular character, and you would use him as bait to your heart's content, but the context you've created implies that Varric might have been the only one to take the threat seriously, while the Inquisitor and the rest were doing God knows what.

Varric should have been handing the Rook information on all the contacts they can recruit, all the useful agents, all the people to work with, not tell them to ask Neve because she might know someone because detective (Neve is a good character, but the fact that people who were supposed to spend 10 years chasing Solas look up to her for finding them contacts is appalling).

"Oh, but all these people were in the previous parts and we don't want to mention previous parts because muh new players" - well, you shot yourselves in the foot. Maybe, just maybe, you should have AT LEAST cared more about the choices made in DAI.

Congrats.

[littlelamy]

I just saw ‘’a walk to remember’’ and it came a lil request idea (but with a happy ending and fluff, ain’t nobody ready for heartbreak after obx4). Maybe Kook!Reader suffers with some sickness that’s manageable. She goes on a few dates with Rafe and it’s that sweet wholesome pinning. Though for her most recent doctor appointment where she went for a scan, she learns that she doesn’t have much time to live (false alarm unknown to her: doctors fucked up with the scan, she is completely fine) and when Rafe makes a heartfelt confession wanting to make things serious, she has to tell him there is no point and IT’S ALL ANGSTY and Rafe is bawling mess

a/n: thank you for requesting! it’s a bit long 🙃, hope you like it 💗!!

the summer air clung to the coast like a warm blanket, carrying the scent of salt and honeysuckle as you walked into the country club. it was one of those evenings where the world seemed too quiet, like it was holding its breath. you hadn’t planned to stay long. a drink, a few polite hellos, and you’d leave.

but then he walked in.

rafe cameron.

you’d seen him before, of course. kildare wasn’t that big, and rafe’s reputation preceded him—wild, confident, a little dangerous. he was the guy everyone talked about, the one your parents didn’t want you anywhere near.

but when his eyes found yours that night, something changed.

he smiled. not his usual cocky, smug grin, but something softer. something meant just for you.

and when he crossed the room, leaned on the bar beside you, and said, “what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”—you didn’t brush him off like you might’ve done with someone else.

instead, you smiled back.

the first few dates were simple, easy. a mix of late-night drives, quiet beach picnics, and stargazing. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, but somehow, with rafe, even the most ordinary moments felt different.

he wasn’t what you’d expected.

sure, he had that edge, that playful arrogance that made him irresistible. but he was also thoughtful. he remembered how you took your coffee after just one date, texted you goodnight even when he was out with his friends, and noticed the little things—like the way you twisted your ring when you were nervous.

and you found yourself looking forward to every moment you spent with him.

but underneath the easy laughter and quiet moments, there was a weight pressing on your chest. something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to.

your sickness wasn’t new. you’d lived with it for years, managing it like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t life-threatening, or so you thought—it was just… a part of you.

but two weeks ago, everything had shifted.

you’d gone in for a routine scan, expecting the usual reassurances. instead, your doctor’s expression had been grim, his words careful and clinical as he explained the results.

the prognosis wasn’t good.

“limited time.” that’s what he’d said, as if those two words could sum up everything you were feeling.

you’d walked out of that office in a daze, the world around you moving too fast and too slow all at once.

you hadn’t told anyone. not yet. how could you?

how were you supposed to look someone in the eye and tell them your days were numbered?

when you saw rafe again, the weight in your chest felt heavier.

he greeted you with that same, easy smile, pulling you into a hug that felt like coming home.

“missed you,” he murmured against your hair.

“missed you too,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat.

the two of you spent the evening on the porch at tannyhill, a bottle of wine between you. the night was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of cicadas in the distance.

rafe was unusually still, his fingers tracing slow circles on your knee.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “why wouldn’t i be?”

he didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. instead, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“can i tell you something?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

you turned to him, your chest tightening. “of course.”

he hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i know we haven’t been doing this for long,” he started, his gaze fixed on your joined hands. “but i really like you. like, really like you.”

your heart clenched painfully.

“i don’t want this to be just casual,” he continued, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his expression. “i want to be with you. for real.”

tears blurred your vision, and you looked away, your chest aching with the weight of what you had to say.

“rafe…”

“what?” he asked, leaning closer. “what’s wrong?”

you shook your head, pulling your hand from his as you stood.

“we can’t,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

his brow furrowed, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. “what do you mean, ‘we can’t’? why not?”

“because…” you wrapped your arms around yourself, as if that would somehow keep you from falling apart. “because of me.”

“what does that mean?” he pressed, standing now too.

you took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “i don’t have much time,” you finally managed, your voice breaking.

the silence that followed was deafening.

“what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

you couldn’t look at him. “the doctors… they said…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “it doesn’t matter.”

“doesn’t matter?” he repeated, his voice rising. “how can you say that? of course, it matters!”

“it doesn’t change anything,” you said, turning away from him.

“like hell it doesn’t,” he snapped, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “we’ll get another opinion. hell, i’ll fly you anywhere—just tell me what we need to do.”

“there’s nothing you can do,” you said, your voice trembling.

“that’s not true,” he argued, his tone desperate now. “we’ll fix this.”

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “you don’t get it, rafe. you can’t fix this. no one can.”

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to process your words. then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it was almost hard to breathe.

“i’m not giving up on you,” he whispered fiercely.

and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself believe him.

it was two days later when your phone rang.

you almost didn’t answer it, too drained to face whatever news was on the other end. but something told you to pick up.

“ms. y/l/n?” the voice on the other end said. “this is dr. patel. we’ve reviewed your scan results, and there’s been a mistake.”

your heart stopped. “a mistake?”

“yes,” the doctor confirmed. “the results were mixed up with another patient’s. your condition hasn’t progressed. you’re completely fine.”

fine.

the word echoed in your mind, over and over, as relief and disbelief and anger surged through you all at once.

“are you sure?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“yes,” the doctor assured you. “we deeply regret the error and the distress it’s caused.”

you hung up without another word, the phone slipping from your hand as you stared blankly ahead.

you were fine.

but rafe didn’t know that.

telling him wasn’t easy.

when you showed up at tannyhill, he was waiting for you on the porch, his face drawn with exhaustion.

“hey,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms the moment you stepped through the door.

“hey,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

he held you for a long moment, neither of you saying anything. then he pulled back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studied your face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice tentative.

you nodded, your throat tightening. “there’s something i need to tell you.”

his brow furrowed. “what is it?”

you took a deep breath, your fingers twisting the hem of your shirt.

“the scan…” you hesitated, your heart pounding. “it was wrong.”

his eyes widened. “what?”

“the results were mixed up,” you explained, tears streaming down your cheeks. “i’m fine, rafe. i’m fine.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. then, without warning, he let out a shaky laugh, pulling you into his arms again.

“thank god,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

you clung to him, the relief in his embrace overwhelming.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“don’t,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. “don’t apologize, baby.”

and when he kissed you, it felt like the first breath after drowning—a promise that everything would be okay.

because it would.

with rafe by your side, you knew it would.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5])

jen just shakes her head, bitter and not in the least surprised at what agatha did

meanwhile agatha is... she's just devastated

billy is the only person in the room who has never experienced and still doesn't comprehend the finality of death

agatha runs, she can't do anything else. rio is the only one that cares.

she looks so pathetic in that getup. her behaving like a little girl is not so funny anymore, is it?

as always, rio watches her. she has a lot to think about after this trial.

but alice needs her undivided attention now. lady death has to clock in.

I'm glad that we keep focusing on agatha's reaction. she used to be able to kill people and shake it off (or at least pretend to). she cannot shake alice off

and it was all for a tiny spark of magic. that is all that's left of alice on the mortal plane

when billy confronts her she visibly recoils and shrinks in on herself, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar

one hand on her own heart, one on billy's heart. like she's begging and willing him to understand

it's not: you lied. it's you lied to me. it's personal. it's the trust he had in a mentor and mother figure, irrevocably broken

agatha never lies to billy. she's shitty with him in many other ways, but she doesn't lie

billy, honey. you set out on a road trip with a literal serial killer.

agatha had this mad fantasy of billy and her becoming a family, a coven two. and of course she went and ruined it. she always does

jen has all her walls firmly up, she won't allow herself to grieve for alice. she's still on the verge of walking a dark path, and agatha is the one pushing and pushing her toward it

lilia, who has lost and grieved so many, is just numb with pain. Death is unstoppable. hey guys, remember the first three episodes? when everything seemed so fun and carefree?

to billy witches were spellbooks and broomsticks and hot topic eyeliner. how do you explain to a kid the ugliness and violence and trauma that will inevitably fester in a marginalized, repressed community?

from the mouth of a child. she might have killed alice by accident. she has been deliberately and systematically killing many more to serve her own agenda.

and what agatha does, when confronted with ugly truths? she runs, and if she can't run, she goes all in with the spectacle and the cruelty

she could have picked any moment to talk about wanda. she could have broken the news gently, eased billy into understanding what he's been doing. now she's just lashing out in anger and fear and pain. billy did just put her through hell, but she's still the only adult of the two, no matter how immature she wishes to act

when push comes to shove, when it all becomes too much, agatha will latch to her self-preservation instincts and choose to protect herself over anyone else, even the people she loves. She's doing it with billy, she's doing it with rio. I'd argue that she did it with nicky, too.

hey, hey agatha, remember what happened the last time you poked a chaos witch with a stick? you dumb idiot.

fucking around meets finding out etc etc etc etc

boy is she SCREAMING. this bitch will never go down quietly, she'll snivel and cry like the sad pathetic creature she is

and the parallels and the irony of billy hurting jen and lilia in his grief.

do you guys laugh too when bille ellish pops in?? I love how agatha later says that billy is dramatic because he's a maximoff. honey, wanda was only ever coming up with cute sitcom scenarios. this is all your doing, you and your dramatic ass. this is your son. drama queen and drama queen in training.

[eiluned]

Sweet Little Death (Lucanis/Rook; explicit)

by eiluned

Read it on AO3

Info: Explicit, Lucanis/Rook, no Veilguard spoilers, set after the romance soft lock scene. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

Summary: There was only one bed. Clearly Lucanis can’t share it with Rook without losing what’s left of his sanity.

Notes: Thank you to Amanda for coming up with the idea even though she hasn’t played Veilguard yet and has just been on the business end of my hyperfixation firehose. And enormous thanks to Amanda and Trina for beta reading!

Please enjoy the fruits of my 1 am writing binge. Feedback makes me happy. <3

-

There was only one unused guest room in the House of Valor, at least according to Isabela, but they were welcome to it.

Lucanis made sure his expression was set to stony-faced acceptance and followed Rook as she led him through the warren of hallways. Taash had decided to stay with their mother, and hopefully that wouldn’t end in her house going up in a blaze of dragon fire. But sharing a room with Rook was the more pressing concern in his mind.

“Here it is,” she said, unlocking a rather nondescript door and pushing it open.

The only guest room available in the House of Valor had only one bed.

They both stood in the doorway for an awkward moment, Rook blushing slightly and Lucanis trying to tamp down a vague sense of panic at the sleeping arrangements. “Well,” Rook finally said, stepping into the room, “This is cozy?”

The room was perfectly fine, cozy even, but the fact of the matter was still that it had one bed. Just one. And clearly they couldn’t share it without Lucanis losing what was left of his sanity.

“You take the bed,” he said, closing and bolting the door behind himself. “I’ll sleep on the…”

He looked around to see a small table, two very straight-backed wooden chairs and very little else in the way of furniture.

“The floor?” Rook said skeptically, dropping her pack beside the door. “The cold stone floor? Lucanis, don’t be ridiculous. You look dead on your feet; you need to sleep. We can share the bed.”

His stomach swooped at the thought, and he felt Spite’s interest stir. “No, the floor is fine,” he said a little too quickly, and Rook cocked an eyebrow at him, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “Or the chair,” he added a bit lamely.

Rook looked from the bed to the chair to the floor and then back to him before shaking her head. “Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging and starting to remove her armor.

Someone dropped off food and ale, and they ate in a silence which was only slightly awkward. It was already late, and it had been a long day fighting Antaam on the beaches. Rook stretched, raising her arms and arching her back in a way that made her shirt stretch enticingly over her breasts.

“YES YES,” Spite rasped in the back of his mind, and Lucanis made an effort to stare at the table until her stretch was done.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” she said, hauling herself to her feet. “I’m going to turn in. When the chair or the floor or whatever gets too uncomfortable, just nudge me over and take your half of the bed.”

There was absolutely nothing sexual in what Rook had said, but Lucanis’s mind immediately went to skin against skin, his arms around her and her legs around him, the scent of her overwhelming his senses. He stared very hard at the table, gripping his fork so hard he thought he might bend it, as Spite started up a litany of all of the dirty things he wanted to do to Rook.

“You all right?”

He jumped at her question and found her giving him a look of concern. “I’m fine,” he replied, making an effort to relax his posture. “Spite is acting up.”

Rook gave him a little smile that made his stomach flip. “Tell him I said to behave,” she said, climbing into the bed. “Wake me if disaster strikes.”

She fell asleep quickly, leaving Lucanis to awkwardly move the chairs around so he could prop up his feet and attempt to sleep. It was a little ridiculous, how awkward he felt around Rook. He was never awkward; he strove to be cool and collected no matter the circumstances, but Rook… She was beautiful, yes, but also clever and funny and kind, to everyone but especially to him. He was used to being treated with deference or wariness or fear, but not kindness. 

And he wasn’t entirely sure what to say in response to her flirty little comments. He wanted to kiss her, to be completely honest with himself, but they hadn’t discussed their near-kiss in the pantry since it happened. He just assumed he had fucked that up and resolved to pretend it hadn’t happened. 

Of course, pretending didn’t keep him from wanting her so badly it made his body ache. 

Scowling at himself, he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the chair back digging into his shoulder blades.

-

It took two hours of uncomfortable dozing for Lucanis to give up.

Rook was right; he was painfully tired after too many nights of hardly any sleep, and he would be useless in the morning if he didn’t get some decent rest. Sighing in frustration, he got to his feet and went to stand beside the bed.

It was wider than his cot in the pantry, but it certainly didn’t seem to have been built with two sleepers in mind. Rook was curled up on her side close to the far edge, and there seemed to be enough blanket for the two of them. Lucanis was a compact man, but he still wasn’t sure there was enough room in that bed for them to sleep without touching. And touching seemed… dangerous.

“TOUCH HER. WANT. TO FEEL,” Spite hissed in his head.

“Shut up,” he muttered back, lifting the blanket so he could slide under it.

The bed was made of a net of ropes tied to the frame with a mattress on top, and when he settled his weight in, everything rolled toward the middle. Rook murmured in her sleep as her body shifted, and Lucanis froze for a second, hoping she wouldn’t wake. When she didn’t, he grabbed the edge of the frame and hauled himself over, making sure no part of his body was touching hers.

“TOUCH HER. COWARD.”

He ignored the demon in his head and closed his eyes, sinking swiftly into sleep.

-

It was the best sleep he’d had in as long as he could remember. He was remarkably settled, with no nightmares that lingered.

He slowly came awake, breathing in a sweet scent, warm and comfortable, and he thought for a second about just falling back asleep and staying there as long as he could.

“SMELLS GOOD,”Spite purred in his ear. “SO WARM.”

Awareness shot through Lucanis like a lightning bolt. He and Rook had somehow rolled together during the night, and he was currently spooned up against her back. Her body was tucked against his from head to toe with his arm slung around her waist, and to his utter mortification, his groin was firmly pressed against her ass, his cock hard as a rock.

“STAY,” Spite hissed, looming over him. “TOUCH HER.”

Lucanis didn’t dare answer his demon for fear he’d wake Rook. And he did want to touch her, to keep touching her like this. It was intoxicating, the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair in his nose, the heat of their bodies mingling through the layers of their clothing.

But it was definitely not right to be this close to grinding his erection against her, not while she was sleeping, and despite Spite’s protests, he started to slowly disengage. But Rook sighed and caught his wrist in her hand, pulling his arm more tightly around her. He froze, and she sighed again, wiggling a little as if trying to get closer to him.

“I can tell you’re awake,” she murmured, and he could feel her chuckle when he jumped in surprise. “You don’t have to move. If you don’t want to, I mean.”

He sucked in a somewhat shaky breath, which was a mistake as it filled his nose even more fully with her scent. “Mierda,” he groaned, pressing his face into her hair. “This is a bad idea.”

Rook’s hand snaked back to his hip, her fingers digging in as she pushed herself more firmly against his body. “Doesn’t feel bad to me,” she said, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“You are going to kill me.”

“Mm, but won’t it be a sweet little death?”

Brushing her hair out of the way, he pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, tongue darting out to taste her. It was her turn to gasp, her grip on him tightening as she rolled her hips against his. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, propping himself up on his elbow so he could better pepper kisses across her skin to the tender spot just below her ear.

“NO. DON’T STOP,” Spite growled, but Lucanis pushed him to the back of his mind.

“Don’t stop,” Rook moaned, arching in to him, echoing Spite even though she couldn’t have heard him.

Lucanis was utterly lost. His objections, no matter how logical they may have been before he was in bed with Rook, vanished into nothingness. He wanted her so desperately, and she wanted him, something that still baffled him. But she was there, in his arms, pressed against him, wanting him, and the why didn’t matter anymore.

Twisting in his arms, Rook pressed her lips to his, her hand sinking into his hair, and oh, was he thoroughly lost.

He kissed her hungrily, and she met him with enthusiasm, tilting her head to let him kiss her more deeply, hooking her leg over his hip. She arched against him when he slid his hand under her shirt and over the soft skin of her stomach, up to cup her breast. 

“Yes,” she breathed against his lips, whimpering when he rubbed his thumb across her hard nipple. 

Her own hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, and he stopped touching her just long enough to yank it off his arms and toss it to the floor while she whipped hers over her head, leaving her hair wild around her face. The oil lamp he’d forgotten to extinguish gave off enough light for him to see that her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated, and he didn’t think he had ever seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

She pressed herself against him again, kissing him deeply, her hands roaming over his bare chest and down to the waistband of his trousers. Her pants and underwear slipped down over her hips easily, and she kicked them off, somehow managing to unfasten his trousers at the same time. 

His pants hit the floor, and then they were gloriously naked, skin pressed against hot skin. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips, pulling him on top of her, and Maker, she really was going to be the death of him.

Lucanis trailed a series of sucking kisses across her jaw and down her neck, enjoying the way she shivered underneath him when he brushed his beard against her skin. She arched when he licked at one nipple, her legs tightening around his ribs, and oh, that was a nice reaction. Closing his lips around the stiff nub, he suckled at her, and that reaction was even better; she writhed against him, her breath coming in quick gasps.

Switching to the other breast, he gave it the same treatment and groaned as she sank her hands into his hair, her fingernails grazing his scalp deliciously. “L-Lucanis,” she whimpered, shuddering when he tugged at her nipple gently with his teeth. “Please…”

“TASTES GOOD,” Spite rasped inside his head. “SO GOOD. WANT TO. FUCK HER.”

The shared thought made his cock throb, but he didn’t want to rush into that just yet. “I want to taste you,” he purred, lifting up enough to kiss her mouth deeply again. “Can I taste you?”

“I will murder you if you don’t,” Rook replied with a breathless laugh, and he grinned at her as he slid down her body.

There wasn’t enough room on the bed, so he slipped off to kneel on the floor and pulled her toward him so that her hips were right at the edge. She opened her legs eagerly for him, and he let his eyes feast on the sight of her spread open for him, her folds glistening with wetness in the lamplight. Propping herself up on her elbows, she met his eyes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and holding her gaze, he dipped his head and slowly licked up the line of her cunt.

He was admittedly not experienced with this sort of thing. His only real sexual experience had been a few fumbling attempts years before, and after that he had been just too busy or focused or…

“AFRAID,” Spite added helpfully, and Lucanis swore silently at the demon.

But inexperience be damned, Lucanis was observant, his attention to detail superb, his instincts finely honed. And he had read a ridiculous number of rather explicit romances, so he thought he had a good idea of what he needed to do.

Using his thumbs to gently part her folds, he licked her again, dipping his tongue inside of her, and Rook collapsed onto her back, crying out as he dragged his tongue up to lap at her swollen pearl.

His finely honed instincts told him to keep doing that.

In seconds, her body had tensed like a bowstring, her heels pushing against the bedframe, her hands coming down to fist in his hair in an effort to keep him where she clearly wanted him to be. With a hum of pleasure at the taste of her, he closed his lips around her pearl, sucking gently. She cried out again, her hips coming off of the mattress, and he grabbed her ass with both hands, holding her against his mouth so he could devour her.

“DELICIOUS. TART HONEY,” Spite rumbled, and for once, Lucanis was in complete agreement with his demon; Rook was the best thing he had ever tasted.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, her body shaking as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub. “Please don’t stop, Lucanis, please…”

Looking up her body, he met her eyes, and wildly, that seemed to be what pushed her over the edge. She shuddered hard, her thighs tightening almost painfully around his head, and he sucked at her as she came against his tongue.

It was so good that he nearly came, even without a touch.

Her thighs eventually slacked and she released his hair, squirming away from his mouth with a breathless laugh. “Stop, stop,” she gasped, pushing herself back up onto her elbows. “It’s too much, too good.”

Taking a few deep breaths to get himself under control, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh, enjoying the way she sighed, her eyes slipping shut for a second. They opened again when he climbed onto the mattress, catching her under her arms to pull her back up to the head of the bed, and she smiled up at him lazily. She was soft and pliant under his touch, her thighs parting again so he could settle between them, and she pulled him down into a kiss that took his breath away.

His cock strained away from his body, and when she hooked her heels around the backs of his thighs, it pressed against the slick heat of her cunt. Oh, he wasn’t going to last long, and he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself too badly.

“Are you ready?” he asked breathlessly.

“If you’re not inside of me in the next five seconds—” she began.

He laughed and pushed steadily into the wet, gripping heat of her.

“—oh fuck,” she finished, the word drawn out on a moan.

When he was buried to the hilt, he had to stay perfectly still for a moment. He had never imagined it would feel so incredible to be inside of her, and he really was going to embarrass himself if he couldn’t get himself under control.

“TIGHT AND HOT. AND GOOD. SO GOOD,” Spite rasped, and Lucanis buried his face in Rook’s hair, gasping when she hitched her legs a little higher on his hips.

Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him down onto her fully, and that contact nearly did him in. “Be still, mi tesoro,” he rumbled, his heart pounding in his ears.

Thankfully she mostly obeyed, just tightening her arms around him. Nuzzling his jaw, she pressed her face against the side of his neck, her own breath stuttering into her lungs as they adjusted to the feel of each other.

“Maker, you feel so good,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his earlobe.

It didn’t matter if he had himself under control or not; his hips rocked against hers, his cock slipping out and back into her. With a groan, he took her mouth in a kiss again, stroking his tongue against hers, sliding one arm under her shoulders to hold her against his chest. He cupped her cheek with the other hand, pressing his forehead against hers when they broke apart to gasp for breath.

She gazed up at him, right into his eyes, and he was drowning in her. Her hips lifted into his thrusts, her body taking him in so perfectly, and her fingers gripped his back, holding him tightly as he lost himself in her. He held onto his control by his fingernails, wanting this to last longer but hurtling inevitably toward the sweetest oblivion.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, kissing him deeply, holding him even tighter. “You can let go, Lucanis.”

He hadn’t realized he’d needed to hear that until the words fell from her lips. All of the tension in him, all of the anxiety and fear and desperation, suddenly snapped.

Throwing his head back, he shouted out her name. Spasms wracked him, his cock throbbing as he spilled deep inside her welcoming body. She pressed wet kisses against the corded line of his neck, murmuring encouragement and pleasure and sweet nothings, holding him as he slowly came back into himself. It was like dying and being reborn in a burst of fire, and he had never felt anything like it before.

They lay there for a long moment, kissing languidly, her hands caressing him so gently. He hadn’t dreamed it could be so good, nor that he needed this so badly. He needed the release of their bodies coming together so intimately. He needed the acceptance of her embrace, her kisses, her soft eyes meeting his, and her smiles and her affection. And he didn’t know if he would be able to live without it after this night.

When his softening cock slipped free from her body, Rook nudged him to roll to the side and got up from the bed, padding into the little adjoining privy. Lucanis suddenly felt awkward again; what the hell was he supposed to do? Did she leave because she needed to get away?

“STOP THINKING,” Spite grumbled. “JUST WAIT.”

A moment later, she came back into the room, still gloriously naked, her hair spilling over her shoulders and her hips swaying with each step. He gasped in shock when a wet cloth smacked into his chest, and she laughed in delight. “So that’s how to catch you by surprise,” she teased, climbing back onto the bed. “Just walk around naked, and you’re so distracted that you’d never see it coming.”

“I’d be happy to see you coming,” he teased back, sitting up.

“Oh, I see you’ve regained your faculties,” she said with a grin, unabashedly watching as he cleaned himself up with the cloth. “Should I be on my guard for more seductive banter?”

The cloth landed on the floor with a splat, and he pressed his lips against hers, loving the way she moaned and melted into his kiss.

Rook curled up against him, pulling the blanket over their entwined bodies, and she quickly fell asleep with her cheek resting on his chest. Her hair smelled so sweet, and her body was warm and soft against his, wrapped around him, relaxed and comfortable like she was at home in his arms. The demon in him purred in contentment, settled like he had never been before.

Lucanis was so lost.

But maybe he needed to be.

[district4loading]

Pathetic

Twice Sana x Male Reader

4k words

Content Warning: smut, cheating, mix of degrading and praise

Minors DNI

A/N: First of all I wanna say thank you so much for the support on my latest fic! It motivates me to put out more for you guys and I really appreciate it.

So so so sorry to the person that wanted female reader next, I PROMISE its coming. This is just some smut that was in my drafts, i figured I'd post it while I write the next fic I plan on uploading.

This is cut from a longer fic I wrote a little bit ago. I won't be posting the entire thing because I took alot of inspiration from a different fic I read. Not the smut though, the smut is all my writing so that's why I'm sharing it with you all.

(Also when I mention "Kim Minji" I'm talking about Jiu from Dreamcatcher.)

-

"You're pathetic"

-

One bad night was all it took, an argument with your wife over the way you looked at the intern at work earlier that day. You swore you weren't looking because 'no co-workers' was the rule in your open marriage and you would always honor that. Even if it wasn't, you knew that they didn't like each other so it'd be nothing short of betrayal to fuck someone who hated your wife. So no matter how incredible the girl looked in her short dresses and her tiny mini skirts, she was forbidden fruit.

Minji couldn't trust you though, she knew your type and could spot that look in your eye from a mile away. So she waited until you both got home to confront you about it. Of course, you denied even looking the interns way—a lie, might I add—then it turned into a screaming match, the hatred she had for her subordinate much more prevalent in her fiery eyes.

It ended with a slam of your bedroom door and the expectation that you'd sleep on the couch that night, which you did.

That's basically how you spent the following weekend, not talking to each other and only being painfully cold and passive aggressive when you did. You never liked to fight, it always felt so cold and empty, sleeping in different rooms waiting for the other to apologize. Days had passed, still barely any communication as your weekend fight bled into the weekdays. At work you kept things cordial, still not communicating much at all.

Everyone could tell, people at work could tell, there was a certain coldness in the both of you. You two were similar in that way, being extra shitty to your co-workers when things weren't going well at home. That and the fact that you chose to eat alone at lunch rather than with her.

You were in your office spending your lunch eating some ordered fast food while trying to catch up to a deadline when you heard your door open. Assuming it's one of your assistants you say "I'm on my lunch break, come back in thirty" without even looking up from your computer.

In your peripheral vision, you see the person instead step into your office and close the door behind them. Actually looking up this time, you open your mouth to speak, but the words fail to come out. It's the intern, Sana and she looks incredible. Her hair is straight and black today, very different from her usual brown wavy look but she pulled it off all the same. She wore a cute black dress, its material velvet and its collar white with three cute silver buttons down the midline. Then your eyes drift to her legs. Bare, pale and slim, not to mention there wasn't a bruise, scab or blemish in sight.

"Minatozaki, if you're looking for Mrs. Kim, she should be in her office" You throat goes dry, immediately noticing the interns quick move to lock the door behind her, a mischievous grin on her face.

"She's my boss, I know where she is. If I was looking for her, I would've went to her" Sana rolls her eyes and approaches your desk, leaning forwards to place her palms flat against the maple wood, straightening her arms as well. You look above your desktop, meeting her eyes for a split second before hearing alarms ringing distantly in the back of your mind.

You dart your eyes back to the paper you were working on then you gather up the thread of authority you have left to say "I can't imagine there would be anything you'd want from me, we work in completely different departments and.." You make eye contact for a moment "No disrespect but you're just an intern, so if you could please unlock the door and see your way out.." You say it so non chalantly, almost catching her confident demeanor shift at your passive aggressive tone.

Sana chews on her bottom lip for a bit "Oh don't be like that Mr. L/n..." She fake pouts, acting as if she's oh-so upset about your tone and in a way it was sexy. It's the way she drags out the words all slow in that sweet voice of hers, God it's killing  you. "I just noticed that Mrs. Kim's been extra bitchy this week... you know, at first I thought maybe she's on her period but then I noticed you two are barely talking to each other. Trouble in Paradise?" She asks, circling around your desk to stand beside you.

You look over with a fake polite grin on your face, making the grave mistake of rolling your chair back and turning it so you could face her. "That's really none of your business"

"Oh please, your open marriage is everybody's business" Sana chuckles for a moment and she leans down, holding herself up on the armrests of your chair. You mean to scoot the chair back as far as it can go, stand up and demand that she leave with your voice stern but instead you freeze. You fucking freeze, realizing how close she is and those ringing alarms from before? They turn into blaring sirens "So, why don't you tell me what happened? Whose fault is it? Yours or hers? She fuck someone she's not supposed to?"

It takes you a second to blink, then you swallow hard as you feel your body begin to burn, that nervous heat in your armpits. You catch a whiff of her perfume and it's fucking heavenly, some warm mix of vanilla and maybe cinnamon. Then her face, her beautiful face, one that could've only been hand sculpted by God himself. Her pink lipgloss only making her plump lips look all the more delectable and—fuck you're staring way too hard. "Listen, you're - you're way too close right now"

Sana leans down even closer and conveniently, if you were to look a few millimeters down, you'd be able to see her cleavage pouring out of her dress. "I'm just as close as I need to be, Sir" She says and there's that smirk again, that fucking smirk, the one that says 'I know i've got this mother fucker right where I want him' Now there's a thumping sound that begins filling your ears and it takes a second for you to realize it's your heart.

"I'm married, you should know this is very inappropriate and- "

A whimper escapes your lips the moment she makes a move to straddle your legs. "You're in an open relationship, so this..." She puts her hands on your shoulders "Is fine"

"We have certain boundaries, certain rules that aren't to be broken.. it's what makes us work"

She pokes her bottom lip out and looks at you through her lashes "Am I a boundary?"

"Of course you are! I know you and my wife aren't exactly the best of friends and to be frank, you're a stuck up, entitled brat who seriously needs a fucking reality check" You tell her and for the first time it actually sounds as if you have some sort of backbone but Sana doesn't flinch, make a face or get upset.

She just tilts her head "If i'm so bad, then why am I still on your lap?" She pauses, then looks down observing exactly how your body has betrayed you "And why are you hard?" She asks with a false-innocent tone, God you hated when she used that voice because she just sounded so stupidly sexy. She leans in closer to you, just by your ear "How about you give me a reality check" Her breath is warm as it brushes past your ear lobe.

Then you lose it, like actually lose it. Your hands find their way to her waist and you squeeze, hard enough that it elicits a sharp gasp from her. You pull her forwards and your bodies are now closer than ever, she leans down, arms wrapped loosely around your neck before your lips are pressed together. It's nothing like a rom-com, where the two main characters kiss and suddenly fireworks go off and it's magical and wholesome. No, this was pure raw lust, so strong that if it had a scent, the room would fucking reek of it.

Your lips move together so messily—sloppily as if you're genuinely trying to absolutely devour each other. Sana shoves her tongue into your mouth and you can taste her lipgloss, sweet strawberries, so intoxicating it all made your vision start to blur like a lucid dream. But this is no dream, this is real and the it's the sinful desire that makes it feel so good.

Now she's rocking her hips, whining and humming into your mouth as you suck each others lips swollen. She kisses your cheek and then deviates all the way down to your neck. You sigh a pleasureful breath "I shouldn't be doing this" You mutter, but make no effort to push her off.

She slides back then works on unbuttoning your shirt. "But you want to, I know you do" Her tongue darts out to wet her lips even more than they already were as she focused on getting your shirt off "God, how many fucking buttons.." She whispers to herself with a hot frustration.

This is wrong. You know it's wrong, hell your mind is yelling at you, sending an army of receptors to stimulate your brain to form a coherent rejection. Something mean enough that'll make this evil seductress leave the your office crying. It doesn't work in the slightest, you can't control the way you grip her waist or the way your head stirs from the feeling of being under her.

Sana finally finishes opening your button up "How'd I know you'd have a perfect body?" She mumbled, allowing her cute black nails to scrape against the hard surface of your chest and torso. Your hands drifted, eager to finally get a feel of those legs you've been leering at since day one. They were even softer than you imagined, you grabbed them softly, refraining from digging your fingernails into them. You just couldn't bring yourself to ruin such beautiful skin just yet.

"Sana" You say her name, low and deep, still not taking your eyes off of the way her thighs seem so tiny in your hands. With one hand still on her thigh, your dominant one slides up her dress and you pull her so called panties to the side. The material feels so thin and lacy, you couldn't even for sure call it underwear. "You're already dripping for me" You announce, sliding the pad of your middle finger up and down her slit, just slightly parting her lips so that it can graze against her clit ever so slightly when you reach the top. Her body jerks as you do, a tight gasp escaping her lips.

She's grinding on the pad of your fingers now and you're just watching—observing how she was so desperate, so needy for you. For you. She needed you to do something so badly but you wouldn't yet. It was frustrating her, of course but she just refused to open her mouth to say something so you do "Go ahead Sana, beg for it, tell me exactly what you want" You say it softly, slight rasp in your voice only adding to her burning arousal.

It takes her a moment before she can actually communicate words that didn't sound like pathetic whines. Still, moving her hips on your now stationary hand she mutters "I d-don't beg." She says it so weakly without even an ounce of conviction in her tone. What a fucking brat. You slip your hand from under her dress and they're on her waist again, then you pull her forwards and sit her directly over the rock hard bulge between your legs. She gasps, wet core directly on your clothed cock and when she moves to grind she realizes she can't because you are holding her still.

"You know, my lunch break will be over in a little under 20 minutes. Then people will be in and out of here like clock work and you?" You pause, taking a second to admire her beautiful face. From those pink pouty lips all the way to those dark and lustful eyes. "You'll be walking out of here un-touched and so wet that it's leaking down your thighs" You chuckle for a moment and shake your head "Is that what you want Sana?"

"mm-mm" She shakes her head, then looks deep into your eyes as if the thought of walking out of your office unsatisfied was the worst possible thing that could ever happen in life. "Please Sir, please - I need you inside of me please, please Sir"

You push her back a bit, then slide your dominant hand back under her dress. Your fingers come back into contact with her core and she's looking at you, her eyes begging-pleading for you to take her right here, right now in your office. Ever so slowly, you push your middle and ring fingers inside. She took them easy, a long whine escaping her lips when you curl your fingers "Fuck - thank you sir, thank you, thank you, thank you—" She's chanting in short breaths, her eyes screwing shut the moment you begin to pump in and out.

It's so wet, the sticky sound echoing throughout the otherwise empty office. Her walls hugged you tightly, only making your cock throb even more in your pants when you realized that you were going to be inside of her. Inside of this perfect fucking pussy. "So fucking tight, baby" You mutter as she mirrors your movements, grinding down on your fingers. She's moaning and whining so loud you think someone will hear, but you don't care anymore. Sana looks amazing like this, like she's made for this. To be on your fingers, rutting like a needy slut on top of you as she tries to get them much deeper than they could go.

"Oh - Fuck yes... just like that sir" She cuts herself off with a gasp "That feels so fucking good" You're allowing the pad of your fingers to press against her g-spot and you can tell its driving her crazy. By the way she's moving her hips and squeezing your arms for leverage, she's fucking loving this. Everything about Sana is just obscene. From the way she curses in that filthy tone to the way she's shamelessly

Now her breathing is erratic, like she's about to have a panic attack or faint, and you can feel her walls massaging you. "Are you gonna cum already?" You mutter almost in awe as you stare at her beautiful face. She was so pretty with her eyes closed and her head hung from the embarrassment of being so needy and horny. Then she was soaking, her arousal running down your fingers.

"I - fuck sir - please" She tries to respond, nodding frantically as she begins moaning unabashedly in your face. Her breath warm and shaky as it escapes her lips "Ah - Please make me cum sir, please make me fucking cum" Sana's begging now, pridefully without any kind of shame even though she was in a really shameful position. Riding her superior's fingers on his lap in his office where there's a big ass window in the door. If someone looked through at the right angle, she would've been caught and she knew that. Hell, she gets off on it.

The stirring in your pants gets more persistent, more impatient and it's fucking aching. So you slide your fingers out and for a moment, Sana's still whining and grinding, her fucked out brain still not registering the loss of touch yet. You grab her legs and stand up, then you place her on the desk, right next to your computer and you begin unzipping your pants. "Oh fuck yes daddy please give me your cock" She bites her bottom lip and gives you a look and it almost makes you growl.

Your pants are at your ankles along with your boxers and you're pulling her closer, her legs loosely wrapping around your waist. "You're a real fucking slut" You grab her face, squeezing her cheeks so her lips sort of smush together. In your grip, she nods the best she can, a hot 'mm-hmm' leaving her throat. There's a moment you take to just look into her eyes, the way her eyebrows were upturned, the look of pure fucking want in her eyes. God it was ruining you.

"I can be your personal slut if you'd like, sir" She says it like she's pleading after you let go of her face. Then you hike her dress up a bit more and you're finally lining yourself up. You press the fat tip against her entrance and she winces and looks down. She's holding onto your arms to brace herself "Fuck, it's so big - want you to fucking stretch me"

God she's so filthy, in the way she speaks, moves and stares at you it's unbelievable and you fucking love it. You know you should hate it, you should be disgusted with her. Practically throwing herself at a married man all to spite his wife, her boss at that. You should fucking hate her for the things she's said to Minji and the fact that she hates her. But you just can't get over her body, the way she walks, the way she talks, the way she does fucking anything with that pretty face of hers.

You slide your cock into of her entrance ever so slowly, immediately feeling the tight grip of her warm walls. "Holy shit" You groan and Sana's gone silent, her jaw slack as she looks up and directly into the white light in the ceiling with her eyebrows furrowed. "So - fucking - tight" Your teeth are clenched as you're grunting finally making it all the way to the hilt.

Then you stop for a moment, pulling her even closer "You're so fucking deep i - please fuck me sir, please" You do exactly as she says, pulling your hips back just to thrust all the way back in and she lets out a moan so guttural that it had to have been stuck the back of her throat. Then you're in more of a rhythm, fucking the tight, smooth hole that she's just letting you have. "That's right - fucking use me - oh God"

She's more than just enjoying herself and you're both moaning way louder than you should be. But everything's just too much, because you're a thousand degrees, sweaty and tousled. You can't smell it but you know the room reeks of that pungent aroma, one that could only be recognized for what it was—what it could only be. Sex.

You lean over, resting your head in the crook of her neck so that your lips can come into contact with the salty flesh. "You feel so fucking good - God" You mumble on her skin, licking, kissing, sucking all to make everything feel all the more overstimulating to her. It was something you never thought you'd ever say, but she felt the best out of almost any girl you've ever been with. There was something uniquely warm, tight and moist about her that you've never felt before.

"Yeah - Yeah - Yeah - please don't stop sir, please keep fucking me like that." You can't get enough of her, you wouldn't even stop if you wanted to. Then you're reaching your hand down, tongue still licking her neck as you press your fingers against her swollen clit. The poor thing was practically begging for attention before you got to it. You circled your fingers around it in a way which matched your thrusts.

Now Sana was really seeing stars, like actual stars, her vision even going black at some points. You knew you had her when you first felt her legs begin to shake, then the rhythmic pulsing inside. You lightly bite her ear "There you go baby, cum for me" You whisper so hotly that it's got her right on the edge.

"Yeah" She whispers, her voice shaking breathily and then she gets louder "G-Gonna - Fuck" It's erratic, the way she's moving so rigidly and the insane grip you have on her waist isn't doing any favors. "You're gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me fucking cum" Sana's nodding her head.

Then her back is arched, pushing her chest into yours and she's toppling over the edge. Her moans beautifully silent, caught in her throat as her body stutters and shakes erratically. "That's a Good girl, Sana" You encourage her, knowing that she'd love the praise.

Once she recovers, you don't slow down, in fact you're speeding up almost choking as you now recognize how pent up and sensitive you are. Like you could explode any fucking minute. You know it and Sana does from the way you're heaving and panting like a beat dog. The way your face is red, and then the serious concentration. She squeezes her legs tighter around your waist "Please cum in me sir - wanna feel you filling me up" She moans erotically.

You shiver at this, hearing the words come out of her mouth so fucking easily.. "I can't" Are the only words you can mutter without your voice breaking, it's almost humiliating. But she wants it, she wants it so bad.

"Yes you can" She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you close, her mouth near your ear now. "Come on daddy, breed me. Mark your fucking territory" she eggs you on in that perfect voice of hers and you almost fucking malfunction. This girl is so dangerous. You mean to pull out, you really do but all of a sudden you can't make yourself stop when you begin shooting your load inside. Fucking it deep inside of her womb, like really deep and she's moaning so loud as if she's the one cumming. She's getting off on it.

The two of you stay like that for a bit, God knows how long with your heads empty and your bodies sweaty. When you finally pull out, your cock already soft. Sana giggles a bit, then pulls her panties back over her raw cunt and she slowly slides herself off of your desk. You're pulling your pants up, fixing your belt and then your button up as she tidy's up her dress. "I shouldn't have done that" You sigh, immediately feeling the regret hit you like a truck now that the lust has withered away.

"Come on, it's not like your marriage is exclusive"

You sit in your chair, leaning forwards as you bury your hands in your face, smelling Sana on them. "We have fucking rules Sana, and i broke them all" You're thinking about what you'll tell Minji, how badly this'll probably fucking hurt her. Way to go, you went ahead and fucked a load into the only girl your wife hates. The one you promised that she didn't have to worry about. Sana opens her mouth to say something else but you don't want to hear it "Please get out and... don't tell anybody about this"

"Okay" She says, but she says it sarcastically, like she doesn't take you seriously. You get up from your chair as she puts her hand on the door knob "I'm fucking serious, Sana. Nobody, not your friends, not our co-workers and certainly not-"

"Mrs. Kim?" She finishes your thought, tilting her head. "You're pathetic, let go of me" She scoffs then snatches her arm from your hands then continues to exit your office. You exhale deeply, and you punch the wall, not hard enough to leave a hole but hard enough to leave a bruise. So you immediately regret it, shaking the hand you used.  Sana was right, you were pathetic.

"This can't happen again" You tell yourself out loud as if it'll make your words true.

It doesn't.

[cartoon0bssesedb1tch]

“You’ll never lose me..”

Jayce Talis x fem! Reader with abandonment issues

𖦹

Reader has locked herself up in Jayce’s room in hopes of him coming back, not knowing he’s not the same as he was before…

warning: hurt/comfort, doesn’t follow the arcane s2 plot so no spoilers, reader has a mechanical arm , very cute and fluffy!!

A/n: this is kinda short and English is not my first language so pls don’t judge me:(((

Loneliness. A feeling she loathed with every inch of her body.

She never thought she’d fall in love. Falling in love for her meant that the person she was dating would eventually leave her. But it wasn’t like that when she was with Jayce…

Jayce made her feel loved, like she actually matters… until he disappeared. Day after day, she waited for him. She didn’t want to think that he was like the others and left her for no reason but if there’s a reason..? What if it was her that’s the problem…?

All this time she was in his apartment. She lost appetite and doesn’t eat much. She tries to distract herself from overthinking but she couldn’t. Every once in a while she used to go to the lab to continue hextech since no one was there to do it but an incident happened and she had to stay home. Caitlyn used to visit and check on her as well, she used to comfort her saying, “he’s going to come back.” Or “it’s not your fault.” It was nice until she also stopped showing up.

On the other hand, Jayce came back and just killed Salo and Viktor. He needed to relax and cool down his anger… he needed her… the love of his life, the only thing that could keep him sane is seeing her.

He went her apartment, no one was there. He started to get worried, did something happen to her…? No way…

He knew of her fear of being abandoned by her loved one, it was one of the first things he noticed about her. “I’ll never leave you…” he always reassured her but he left her, although not on purpose yet there’s still a sense of guilt in him for doing so. He couldn’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.

He thought of the places he could find her that were her apartment… his apartment… He went there as fast as possible despite his injured leg. He was in front of the door he tried opening it but it was locked so he knocked.

The knock on the door startled her. Who was it? Was it Caitlyn checking on her again? No, she hasn’t heard from Caitlyn in a while either. She slowly went to her door, cautiously opening it. She slightly opened the door and she couldn’t believe her eyes… Jayce… although rugged and injured but it was still him.

“Jayce…” she felt tears welling up her eyes as she went as quickly as possible to hug him. It was actually him, not her imagination but reality. All those days she was thinking that he’s either dead or just didn’t want to be with her.

He put down his hammer to immediately hug her back he nuzzled into her soft hair as he felt himself tear up. “I was so scared…” she said softly. His rough hand went to stroke her hair in a comforting manner. “I know, I know… I am so sorry…” he said.

She looked up to him and moved hair from his face. “What happened..?” She asked. “So much happened…” he answered.

She saw the scars on his face and his injuries. “How about you take a shower then you’ll tell me what happened, okay?” She said softly as he nuzzled into her soft touch. He nodded and stepped inside since they were still in the front door.

After the shower he felt so much better, he went to the living room and saw her on the couch waiting for him. He sat down next to her and started telling her about everything, the hexcore, Viktor.. everything “I’m sorry for leaving you…” he said in the end. “You didn’t do it on purpose…” she said softly as tears rolled down her face again. “When Caitlyn told me you were gone, I thought I did something wrong… I thought it was the same scene that happened over and over again, I was left for a reason unknown to me… I was always thinking about things that might’ve happened to you… but I never thought it’ll be this…” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, softly kissing her head. “Shh.. it’s okay, my love… You’ll never lose me, I promise.” He reassured her. She looked up and leaned to softly kissing him. He immediately kissed her back savoring her touch he oh so craved. All those days in the caved, he was alone only think about her.

They slowly pulled away and she looked into his eyes. “I.. I also have something to tell you…” she said. He looked at her a bit confused, “what is it?” She took off one of the sleeves of the sweater revealing a mechanical arm, which was poorly built. Jayce’s eyes slightly widened and touched the arm. “What… how did that happen..?” He asked. “I… I tried building weapons… you and Viktor weren’t there and there was a weapon malfunction and… it exploded… thankfully it was just my arm and not my whole upper body… I tried making myself a new arm but building with only one arm is kind of hard…” she chuckled. He continued looking at her new mechanical arm, “l’ll make you a new one… and I’ll give it cool features to it as well. He softly chuckled and rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much…” he said as quiet as a whisper. “I love you too..” she said back. “How about we rest for now? We both need it..” she asked him. He nodded and picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bedroom. He put her down on the bed and laid next to her. He rested his head on hers chest and she ran her fingers through his hair. “You know, I like your new look.” She said playfully. He looked up at her with his eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah?” He asked with same playful tone as hers. “Mhm.. it suits you..” she said. He chuckled and rested his head back on her chest.

He’s finally home…

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[atangledfate]

Lanolin's eyes were locked on the floor as everyone spoke there minds, among them perhaps only Blaze fully understood there situation. For what it was worth there world had rarely relied on the Federation, but it had always been a ruling body. They made the laws, they controlled the military, they had all the capital. If there was one organization that held all the cards in this world it was them. Trying to bully there way to victory felt like a sure fire way to piss them off. Sure they could threaten them with Sol's military, but then what? They come some kind of new military power? Who then do they answer to? As much as she HATED it! and she did, she didn't see a path to victory.

" It doesn't matter if they knew about Clutch or, Surge and Kitsunami, or even Belle and did nothing. The fact is when presented to the public how do you think it would reflect on us? Harboring Criminals who destroyed half a city. Hiding a Badnik within the base, and consorting with a knowing crime boss... GUN doesn't even need to fabricate a story--- They could tell the truth and it would still look bad for us. "

She spoke in a softer tone as she tensed up and seemed to feel the weight of her position for the first time. This was what it meant to be a leader--- saying what no one wanted to hear.

" Having leverage is good, But we can't just throw it in there face either. One miss step, one wrong sentence, and they declare restoration went rogue... cease our assets, cut off our fending, and declare its members criminals... They don't need to attack us today, to win tomorrow, and expecting Sol to step in with military force--- that looks like Blaze is planning an invasion... "

Her eyes went to Belle as she looked tired all of a sudden, like the day was wearing on her. The weight of what they faced had already dawned on her and she could not find a victory condition. No She had a feeling that the Federation had them dead to rights.

" I don't disagree belle but how do you think GUN would spin that? We both know Omega is like a dog to them, they send him in to clean house, and keep him under constant observation. "

Miles had been listening for awhile now without speaking a word to anyone. He just looked to have been thinking long and hard. It was a complicated mess, and Lanolin was right that going at this with a club was going to be messy. Confronting them with what little information they had, was going to backfire and it would make it all worse he figured.

Yet there was another option and Lanolin had already hinted at it.

" If we confront them now we lose, its just that simple. Showing our cards at this juncture... We'd tip our hand to early. As much as i hate to admit it... I think here today we have ot concede... let them have there little investigation really no other course that doesn't lead to conflict between us and the federation... "

" However, what we need is evidence that this was a big plot on there end. If we can prove that then in court we might have a chance... with enough capital and the right lawyers we can argue our case. But trying to argue it with this president here and now? it's like yelling at cop because he's gonna give you a ticket... or worse trying to bribe the cop. "

" that's my play, we let them think they've won and act behind the scenes--- Convert operations. It's our best play...we can use mimic as a bargaining chip to show our good will. Once we know more we can make a plan to counter GUN and the Federation but right now... if we act rashly we end up terrorists on a watch list... that's my idea, and i think our best shot of saving restoration "

Sonic didn't respond as he was staring at the wall grinding his teeth. He didn't get angry often but, this was one of those moments he felt like he was being dicked over. Yea Tails might be right but, he didn't have to like it! He knew the kid was smart, and maybe a conflict would be bad! but letting these guys use shitty political tactics on them sucked!

" So that's it? Just roll over and play dead? I'm still for butt kickin' let them call me a terrorist if they want... they can do it while choking on there teeth--- But what ever the plan i'll do my part. But this kinda stuff ain't my style... "

"I can't say we don't have any options. After all, I'm sure even GUN wouldn't wish to make an enemy of me or the Sol Empire. It may not be much of an advantage given I'm in their world, though it's at least something to push back with." Blaze was never one to use her status for threats or warnings, and today was the first time she's done it so much. Though the feline wouldn't sit by and let her friends be pushed around or threatened.

"Not to mention the fact they never even attempted to reach out to anyone about the fact Clutch is a criminal, or how they also knew Mimic was here in the base. I'm can only guess you guys had Mimic as a high priority of catching, so they should've known too. Easy to send a message if they have a spy in. Gives off the impression they set you guys up to fail. I only wish I had more solid proof on the rumors about the commander." Rowan was sure having solid intel on that guy would make them clear out in an instant.

"We also got Mimic in the Shadow Void to turn over. Can't say I trust GUN with someone like Mimic, if only because I wouldn't put it past them to put him to work, though it's something." Rowan wanted to just throw him in a hole and leave it at that, though he'd never hear the end of it from Tangle.

"If Surge is staying then so am I. They can try to take me, though they'll regret it in the end. All it takes is four to six minutes for someone to drown, and I can speed that up much faster with how smart I am." Kitsunami wasn't going to let anyone take Surge, or let anyone take him away from Surge. If GUN wanted to see how dangerous the fennec was then that was the fastest way to do it.

"It's okay Kitsunami. I doubt they'll try anything that'll tick you and Surge off." Belle wasn't surprised Kitsunami would go through such lengths, though gears and starters she didn't need to see him start racking up a body count of GUN soldiers. The tinkerer herself was thinking about what she should do. Tails and Lanolin had a point, yet so did Vector. Not to mention she was sure they'd only be interested in dismantling her. She was sure they could consider her as safe eggtech to copy.

"I won't go with GUN because I don't trust them. And if they want to take me just because of who my creator is then I'd be more than happy to bring up how they let Omega work for them." Belle knew Eggman created Omega, though as far as she knew they never tried to punish or arrest him. Hopefully that'd be of help to get them to leave her alone.

"So, we got Blaze backing us up, the fact they withheld the fact Clutch was a criminal, also not telling use Mimic was here, my unconfirmed dirt on the commander, and the fact they let Omega work for them. I guess we could also count them coming off as overly hostile." Rowan found all this excessive, at least without any warning.

"Is this a bad time to mention I also stole Clean Sweep's money? Maybe we should had that over, since I'm sure a lot of it must have been earned illegally." Belle could easily find out what was Restoration donations and what was Clean Sweep profit.

[ladymercysletters]

Higher - Prologue #1: an Aemond Targaryen Series

Synopsis: Y/N Targaryen is the daughter of Rhaenerya Targaryen. Her parentage is disputed though unlike her younger brothers hers is not certain. Whilst they all share the same dark curls of Harwin Strong; Y/N shares her mother’s platinum with a dark streak running the underside of it. There are some, like Queen Alicent, who take this as a sign that her true father is obviously also Harwin Strong – Rhaenerya just getting extremely lucky that most of your hair was white. Others, including you mother, point out Laenors mothers, Rhaenys Velaryons, dark Baratheon hair, and that it obviously comes from there. But wherever your true blood lies you’ve always felt more dragon than anything else.

Word Count: 2,298

Rating (per chapter): none

A/N: Prologue is set when Aemond and reader are young. As I can neither remember, nor care to double check, I'm saying they're around 14 ish. If some of the timelines don't quite match up, does it really matter.

You had no idea where your mother was. Somewhere in the castle most likely; and your father? Which one? By right or rule of birth your father Laenor was nowhere to be found. You could hazard a guess that he was with his Lannister knight. They seemed good friends and you often saw them together. By blood or a guess Harwin Strong of the Kings Guard was teaching your brothers to defend themselves from their uncles, Aegon and Aemond in the training yard; and Daemon, you didn’t have the faintest idea. You rarely saw him and hadn’t seen him since his arrival with his family that morning.

Sitting in a stone alcove overlooking the training yard you pondered your newest sibling. Your mother was due to give birth in but a few days if she held on, and you truly hoped this one would be a girl. Not that you didn’t love your brothers, but boys could be so mean. You looked out of the window and saw how Aegon was mean to his brother Aemond, and goaded your own brothers to join in.

It wasn’t long since being here that you barely recognised them as they picked and taunted your youngest uncle like crows. Helaena had so much more of a sweet temper, and she truly felt like a sister to you when she was there, but she was barely ever there; in the room, on the same plain of existence as anyone else.  

Harwin never made his favouritism more obvious than when they were sparing. Even the lightest blow and he was pushing the two Targaryen princes from Jace and Lucerys and berating them. He was even protective of you on occasion but never as much as the boys; just about everything involving you was in half measures compared to your brothers.

You wandered down to the training yard, sick of being by yourself. You almost made it there before Aemond came running down the corridor at you, pushing past just to duck into a room and lock the bolt with a thud. You spun back around to see the main of Aegon’s wavy hair glowing around his head from the light behind him.

“What have you done this time!” you barked, squaring up to your eldest uncle despite your difference in height. Your brothers were behind him, giggling to themselves like a pack of hyenas.

“Just a laugh, niece. Nothing more than a joke. Only some are not yet man enough to take it.” He finished with a shout down the corridor. They all moved past you, bowling down the dimly lit tunnel to the Keep, they obviously didn’t see where he went. As soon as you knew they were out of sight you walked slowly over to the locked door and tapped.

“Aemond. Its me.” You called quietly through the cracks. “They’ve gone. Can you let me in?” You could hear his sniffs get closer as the door unbolted; cracking open just an inch so you could squeeze through. Pulling your gilded blue dress through the small frame you were met with your uncles red nose and pinked cheeks. “Oh Aemond” you began before he cut you off.

“I’m fine. Its fine.” He started, turning to walk back into the room, facing away from you. Even from your short glace you could see both of his eyes were bloodshot. You pulled your small handkerchief from your sleeve and draped it over his shoulder. This caught his attention, and he turned to find you not so subtly looking up at the ceiling and the tall beams that held it up, just so he was sure you couldn’t see his tears fall.

You sat in silence for a while. You often did, both of you finding it comforting just the two of you, not saying anything; but no one needed to. Eventually you both found yourselves sitting intertwined on the small bench at the end of the room. Your legs were placed over his, his head on your shoulder and yours resting over his; both your hands played with the others.

“I heard mother the other day.” Aemond started. “She was begging father not to betroth Helaena to Aegon. He says it is a good match to keep our blood pure.” His voice was small, and you could almost hear a question in it.

“Poor Helaena” was all you could mutter. And poor her you felt. You were both almost of age and you knew your mother and father had already discussed your future, to some extent at least. “Poor Aegon as well”

“Why poor Aegon?”

“Well, I don’t suppose he wants to marry Helaena any more than she would him.” stroking the back of Aemond’s hand. He huffed but accepted your answer. He sat up a bit and you switched with him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Aemond looked down at you. His hand reached around and fondled with your hair, the silver strands rolled back in small braids from your face, he felt around until he found the little patch of dark hair. He liked to play with that bit the most; perhaps it was because that was what they always teased you about, how even if they were bastards at least they knew who their father was, whereas you could be anybody’s! It wasn’t usually your brothers saying that, just Aegon. But he knew how to spin it to make them laugh at you as well.

Aemond sighed to himself as you relaxed against him. You’d been in the glorified cupboard a while now and he was sure they’d forgotten their search for him and moved on, but he didn’t want to move; not when he could hear you talking about something he feels he really should be paying attention to.

“… from the Reach, and the Riverlands, but she says I don’t have to think about my betrothal until I’m at least seven and ten years old. She says grandsire made her tour at fifteen and she hated it!”

“Betrothal?” Aemond blurted, sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking Y/N from her resting place “to whom?” he cried.

“Well, no-one yet. That’s the point.” You looked up at him and smiled. Aemond’s insides clenched when you did.

“Well don’t.” he said, matter-of-factly. To be honest he didn’t know what else to say. He was suddenly hit with the thought that you wouldn’t always be with him, around him, and he couldn’t stand it. Tears welled up suddenly in his eyes and he pulled out your hanky again to stop the tears.

You reached up to pull his hand from his face, tutting lightly as you saw his watery eyes. Taking the hanky from his hands you gripped them as you dabbed at his eyes.

“Okay” you murmured, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Aemond’s eyes widened at your action, his face flushing. You settled back against him in another comfortable silence, this time with a strange sort of certainty in your future.

**

A week later and you were still in Kings Landing. Not that you minded, but your mother had still not birthed and the maesters were beginning to get worried. Your father/s were more present, you noted, each one also becoming slightly more concerned at the late hour of this pregnancy.

You were sat with Helaena and the Queen, embroidering a handkerchief with a small silver dragon when Aegon came bowling in, followed by Lucerys.

“Mother! Ladies” he bowed comically. The Queen rolled her eyes but said nothing, drawing her attention back to her tapestry. “What do we have here then niece.” He said, lying sloppily next to you, grabbing the soft cotton from your hands.

“Give it back Aegon.” You snapped quietly, reaching out for it.

“Ah ah ah” he tutted. “Don’t snatch niece.” That irked you more. He always called you niece to belittle you, despite you being closer in age than his own half-sister. The Queen looked over the two of you, watching as her eldest son loomed over you teasing. Becoming bored of her tapestry she set it down beside her and left, never one to entertain her children for too long.

Aegon looked over the work in his hand, the corners of his mouth turning down as he was impressed with the small delicate stitches and beading that caught the light. “Why not make it gold niece.” He said finally, throwing the cloth back in you lap as he stood. “to match my glorious Sunfyre.” He smirked down at you before sauntering out again.

“A green bead. A blue bead. A green bead. A blue bead.” You turned to see Helaena muttering softly into her work. She wasn’t beading; you thought. Just sewing golden thread into the wings of her beetles.

**

At dinner that evening your mother was absent again. You almost requested you meal to be brought to your room but the Queen had insisted you eat with your brothers and her children. Silently you all sat, heads staying down after your prayer. Then you heard a noise. A snorting. Grunt.

Aemond stiffened beside you. Your eyes flickered to watch him before darting over the table at your brothers, each of them giggling between themselves. You looked over to Aegon – he was smirking.

“Jacerys” you scolded quietly, glaring daggers at him to get him to stop.

“What. Sister I am not doing anything.” He smirked. The Queen interjected.

“Velaryons. I hear your mother is in her labours.” She breathed. Setting her cutlery down. “That is good news is it not. After so long I’m sure you will all be glad to greet your new sibling.”

“Very much so, your grace.” Your eldest brother said politely, turning to her.

“I’m sure you are all looking forward to going home.” You could tell by the way she sighed as she said it, she was just looking forward to you leaving. Aemond looked over to you as you caught his eye, both of you silently sad that you would be leaving again in the not-too-distant future. “Y/N” she broke once more, grabbing your attention “You will no doubt be keen to return home” she smiled rigidly.

“Why is that?” you asked slowly, stuttering over the words in confusion.

“Well, I’m sure when your mother is well recovered you will need to prepare for your coming out. My husband tells me he has already received ravens enquiring when you are to tour for a husband. I’m sure your mother will want to prepare you herself.” She said curtly.

“Oh. I suppose so.” You said meekly. You knew your mother had received ravens, but to hear your grand-sire had also been in receipt of them made you fear he would use you as a bartering tool.

“I wouldn’t worry niece.” Aegon broke the silence, sensing your nervousness. Everyone looked up to him, surprised at his concern. “If you do manage to receive a decent proposal, the poor sod will have to first work out which father to ask! Ha!” he slapped his knee in jest at his fine joke.

“Aegon!” the Queen snapped. Aemond stood bolt upright next to you, knife gripped in his hand by his side as he stared down at his brother. Aegon laughed

“What are you going to do with that brother?” he questioned laughing. “Carve me up and eat me?”

“Show some respect brother.” Aemond muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes rolling over your brothers sat next to his own; dismayed that neither of them stood to defend you. Aegon scoffed but said nothing; kicking his feet from the ground as he stood, bidding his mother goodnight as he left.

You placed a small hand on Aemond’s wrist that held the knife. He seated himself back down next to you, placing the knife on the table as he whispered a small apology to you.

“There is nothing to be sorry for. Thank you.” You whispered back, hand not leaving his. You suddenly felt the Queens eyes boring into you and moved your hand swiftly from her son.

**

You wept quietly as you packed your trunk. Your mother had birthed your newest brother a week ago. Another brown-haired boy: and now you were set to leave again for Driftmark. You had sent the maids away, content to pack your belongings yourself in silence. Folding up some of your stockings you pushed them down into the corner of the trunk, sniffing deeply.

A low rumbling took your attention from the ground and you looked over your shoulder to the bookshelf in the corner of your room moving across the floor.

“Aemond!” you gasped, seeing your uncle emerge from the secret passageway. You ran across the room to embrace him. Since your departure had been announced you had not seen much of him; his mother keeping him away any time you asked after him – insisting that he was in his studies and must not be disturbed. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Y/N. You are leaving today?” he muttered

“Yes. Shortly. I just need to finish packing.” You drew back from him but did not release your arms.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to leave either.” You sniffed. Fresh tears willing in your eyes. “I hate boats.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I brought you a book. For the journey.” You took the small book he produced from his back pocket and looked it over. As you turned it a small letter fell from between the pages. Aemond gasped and swiftly scooped it from the floor, pushing it back between the pages. “Don’t look at that until you have left. Promise.” He said blushing.

“promise.” You smiled.