#still that part of him just so DESPERATE for any ounce of approval despite the festering anger and arguments he'd fuel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuzukult · 3 years ago

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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Corridor Moments

A/n this is a request from @mariannagris for a fic with the Darkling x Sun Summoner! reader where they're having a cute moment and then Zoya walks in and sees that they're together and gets jealous.

I'm working on a longer fic that should be up this weekend!! I'm working through a bunch of requests/updates rn I promise lol

He's no longer guiding me, but he hasn't moved his hands away--one on my waist, one on my shoulder.

"Aleksander," I try to keep my tone casual, only hinting at a warning.

There's no way he misses it, but he still allows the hand on my shoulder to ghost across my collar before setting his palm on my cheek. "Yes, my sun?"

Before I can roll my eyes, he brushes his thumb across my cheek softly. His touch has started to become more casual, but I'm not sure the comfort it brings me will ever lose its novelty. I tilt my head slightly, leaning into his touch.

"We're not alone." The reminder is more for me than him. All of his actions are intentional, he knows the risks of his sudden bout of affection. "We may be in an empty hallway now, but we're not alone."

Aleksander leans forward slightly, forcing me to press my back into the wall to avoid melting into him. I don't miss his half-smile, a confident smirk breaking across his features. He knows what he's doing. "And what would we need to be alone for?"

The slightest hint of annoyance bubbles in my chest. For someone so determined, he enjoys playing coy more than he should. My lips part, prepared to call him out for his teasing, but Aleksander senses my hesitance like always. He leans forward again, this time pulling my chin up slightly so that our lips could brush together if I just inclined my head slightly.

The closer we get, the more I feel our distance. His eyes flicker downwards, focusing on the slight part of my lips. Aleksander angles his head downwards, allowing our lips to meet fully. Now that the barrier's been broken, I have no choice but to reciprocate with full force, my hands leaving his chest and finding their way into his hair. Aleksander's hands grab the collar of my kefta. He pulls me towards him sharply, as desperate as I am to eliminate space.

And then he pulls me away. I'm left pouting on instinct, lips slightly swollen and breathing a little uneven. "Easy," he chides, "We can't afford to get distracted."

I wrinkle my nose at him. He started this, pulling me out of the meeting under the ruse of important, private conversation. "And who's the one doing the distracting?"

Aleksander smiles fully. A real grin, the kind of grin that rivals any amount of sun I could ever produce. "You," he breathes, leaning in again and brushing his lips against my cheek, "Considering you won't leave my thoughts."

I let myself grin back, his unexpected softness an arrow that pierces through whatever's left of my composure. "You're awfully sentimental today."

He straightens slightly, expression still light. "Is that a bad thing?"

Squeezing the hand that he's placed on my waist, I beam at him. "Not bad at all--just different."

He's still looking at me with a fierceness that sometimes frightens me due to its wholeness, but something ancient and dark is settled behind his eyes. Something haunting that he won't let me help him with. I haven’t known him that long, but I’ve figured out that his affection is often a secret plea, a silent attempt to rid himself of darkness. What's the point of being able to summon the sun if you cannot banish the darkness that haunts those you care about? I raise his hand to my mouth, kissing each of his knuckles deliberately. He exhales at the contact, some sort of tension coiling in him at the chaste contact.

I like us better when we’re alone. When he lets things like this slip from him as he tries to let my light in him. I could stay in this corridor forever with him. I could hold him by his hand to make sure he can’t slip away from me.

Reality does not allow me to coddle my dreams. If I lose focus, he’ll be able to convince me to do anything--to forget my own name even. I drop my gaze to the hand I’m still holding, running my thumb along his knuckles. “We can’t--we can’t stay.” Not the truest sentiment--he can do whatever he wants. “I can’t stay.” The correction leaves me bitter. “Not for long.” The addition only softens the harsh edge of reality slightly. “People are already starting to think you’re extending favoritism towards me.”

Aleksander lifts the hand I’m holding, taking my hand with him. He turns my hand over before placing a kiss on my palm. The contact is warm and fleeting and I’m powerless against the sentiment it stirs. “And this isn’t favoritism?”

I roll my eyes, his warm breath is still against my skin. “That depends--am I your favorite?”

His hold on my hand tightens slightly. “You already know the answer.” I let the corner of my mouth twitch upwards. Aleksander has already offered me more than I expected today, but it’d still be nice to hear him say it. “You, my darling, my sun, will always be my favorite.”

I beam a little easier, warmth expanding in my chest. Still, the feeling isn’t enough to burn through all of my reluctance. His affection stems from the fact that he believes me to be his salvation. That’s the only thing that makes sense to me. How else could i have won his affections?

“It’s easy to favor a Sun Summoner,” the response is soft, a bit of forced teasing edging my words.

His eyebrows draw together as his hold on my hand tightens, turning from a gentle squeeze to a desperate grab. “Sun Summoner or not, no one else has ever held my favor the way you do.” Aleksander leans towards me again, the comforting heat of his breath on my cheek. “And no one ever will.”

I’m reduced to nothing more than happy neediness, letting him cup my face and pulling me towards him. His lips meet mine with a desperate understanding that’s both bruising and coddling. Aleksander’s teeth graze my bottom lip, testing waters that are unfamiliar between us. I reciprocate, pushing even closer to him. He pushes us backwards, pressing me against the wall as he moves his attention away from my lips and down my jaw, leaving a trail of hot skin wherever his lips brush.

“Aleksander,” I breathe, placing a hand on his chest, “Meeting--we need to--”

He pulls away just enough to let me feel his grin, “That can wait.”

“They’ll think things,” Despite my warning, Aleksander doesn’t pull away, his fingertips brushing against my collar. “They’re waiting,” he sighs against my hair, still careless, “Alina--she’s waiting...” He continues to touch me like I’m an illusion of the light. “And--” He smiles at my waning resolve, attempting to move forward to silence the last of my protests with a kiss.

I turn my head, suppressing a reluctant laugh at his carelessness. Aleksander is not discouraged, pressing a kiss against my cheek. Shifting my gaze while placing my hand on his chest to make it easier to push him off fo me, I freeze. He must feel my new stiffness, because Aleksander pauses against me.

Zoya. She’s standing at the entrance of the corridor, watching us--watching me--with such a sharp look of ill-defined displeasure I’m surprised I’m not physically withered by it. Awkwardness and something akin to guilt leave me blind as I try to create space between me and the unbudging General. Does he not see her?

“Yes?” His voice leaves goosebumps against my skin--not an ounce of shame, but not a drop of that easy-going softness either. He’s General Kirigan again--sharp and incapable of shame or regret. He’s in complete control, all the power in the world is at the fingertips that are still on my skin.

Zoya’s expression does not waver, eyes still locked on me. “Those in the meeting were beginning to worry, but I see that you’re occupied.” I was wrong. She’s not staring at me, she’s staring through me--like I’m nothing more than a thin curtain on a cloudless day during high noon. “I’ll inform the others.”

“You’ll inform them of nothing I don’t approve of.” He’s fierce, the threat of venom apparent in each syllable. “And it’d do you well to meet the Sun Summoner’s gaze with a little more respect.”

I’m quick to grab his forearm, desperate to articulate how much I’d rather him not pick this fight--not when most can barely stand me, not when the more I think of Zoya’s look I realize any bitterness towards me is something else. Not hatred, no--resentment. The kind of resentment that’s only ever a byproduct of something else. If I was bolder, I’d assume it a look of jealousy--maybe not over the man, but the attention and praise received for being nothing more than new and shiny. Her eyebrows knit together as Aleksander’s hold on me adjusts slightly. Okay, maybe the fact that I’m with Aleksander has something to do with it--but it has to be more than that. Her dislike of me, her constant myriad of comments and looks all points to a jealousy much more bitter than that of someone love sick.

If something in her has been broken over time here, time around Kirigan and his pension for manipulating that I am not blind to and my presence and joy is a reminder of that, than I can bear her hatred. “She was looking at me normally.” Before he can challenge me, I move his hands off of me gently and slip away from between him and the wall.

I guess that’s what it takes for him to understand that I mean it, Aleksander straightens and takes a step forward. His eyes linger on me as he walks forward. I stay a few steps behind him, a pathetic attempt to cling to any kind of properness I can manage.

“If I were you, I’d at least comb your hair with your fingers before entering that room again unless you’d like to announce yourself as a form of entertainment.”

Being a decent person is nauseating sometimes. “And take the fun out of it for you?”

I don’t wait for her reply, moving down the hall to catch up with Aleksander. Still, when I’m no longer next to Zoya I brush my fingers through my hair in hopes of correcting any damage she’s created. Maybe I should be more worried. Maybe I should care about the opinions of others more. But every reason to stay away from Aleksander entirely feels so small. I’m not naive enough to fall blindly, but the thing about being a Sun Summoner is that you can bring light with you, no matter how dark the path you chose is.

I watch Aleksander as he places a hand on the door to the room. He offers me one last, genuine smile. His path isn’t as dark as he wants it to seem, and even if it is, I don’t care.

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princess-of-riviaa · 3 years ago

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Dark Minx: Showing the Asset

Pairing: Hydra Agent!Steve Rogers x OFC (Larisa Antonov), Winter Soldier x OFC (Larisa Antonov) (mentioned)

Summary: Steve Rogers was the first successful super soldier that Hydra had created. He had also been Larisa’s first student. He excelled in every category, proving to be the most skilled super soldier on both the field and in the bedroom. James was the only one who could compare to Hydra’s Golden Boy, the only one who proved to be a better shot when it came to sharpshooting. It made sense, then, that Steve would be the one to show James how to properly fuck a woman into submission.

Warning(s): exhibitionism, voyeurism, dominant!Steve Rogers, dark!Steve Rogers, (kind of) cuckolding, dirty talk, degradation, teasing, oral (F receiving; M receiving); mention of overstimulation, pain kink, primal kink, angst ending

Word Count: 3.5k

James stared at Larisa with the same kind of dark desire he’d had for her since last week, when she finally showed him a glimpse of the pleasure he’d been missing out on for decades now. She ignored the way her body burned under his heated gaze. Looking into the emotions he stirred up inside of her would only lead to a mess that she couldn’t afford to deal with, not while they were both under Hydra’s command.

But her body only continued to burn hotter as he fully stepped into her chamber and took in her outfit: a red lingerie piece that fell nicely against her pale skin. The stockings were a bit much in her opinion, but the Hydra Agent who had handed her the clothes hadn’t stopped to ask for her expert advice on the outfit.

James’s eyes lingered on her breasts, and the hungry look in them… She squeezed her thighs together, ignoring the desire now pooling between her legs at just that look he gave her. When they finally fucked, when she was finally able to show him how to truly please a woman, it would be the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. Larisa knew that without a doubt. But there were different plans for today, so she threw that fantasy to the side and cleared her throat.

“Today you’re going to learn how to be unforgettable in bed,” Larisa told James, forcing her voice to remain steady. “You’ll learn the perfect ways to please a partner, whether they be man or woman or something in between. Fuck your target like this, and they’ll be putty in your hands after.”

His hungry gaze didn’t waver, his pupils only dilating further. James took a step towards her at the same moment her chamber door opened again, and the other man walked in. With a frown on his face and his shoulders tensing in a defense position, James turned to find who was at the door.

Steve Rogers was the first successful super soldier that Hydra had created. He had also been Larisa’s first student. He excelled in every category, proving to be the most skilled super soldier on both the field and in the bedroom. James was the only one who could compare to Hydra’s Golden Boy, the only one who proved to be a better shot when it came to sharpshooting. It made sense, then, that Steve would be the one to show James how to properly fuck a woman into submission.

The two soldiers exchanged a glance, giving each other a look too full of emotion that Larisa couldn’t place it. She looked away, feeling like she was intruding on a private conversation.

“Looks like you’re finally gonna learn how to properly fuck,” was all Steve said to James before he turned to Larisa and closed the distance between them.

He brought a hand to her throat and squeezed. Though it was gentle, the look in his eyes told her that he could turn rough in half a second. It was thrilling enough that she found herself smiling as he forced her to look up at him. His gaze was dark, dominant, demanding. She had taught him that look, showed him how to use it to his advantage. And he had mastered it well enough to make Larisa gulp as she realized how badly she wanted to be fucked by him.

“Nice to see you again, Dark Minx,” Steve growled, using the formal nickname Hydra had given her when she’d first proved her usefulness in the bedroom.

And then he was spinning her around and pulling her back flush against his chest. His right hand stayed wrapped around her throat as his other hand explored the valley between her breasts, touching her like she belonged solely to him. She fixed her gaze on James, and suddenly she was imagining it was him touching her like this, owning her body.

Steve ripped a shaky gasp of pleasure from Larisa when he palmed her heat over her panties. He bit her ear when he found that she was already wet, her arousal already soaking through her lingerie.

“Women like Larisa may act tough,” Steve said to James, “but in the bedroom, what they crave most is to be dominated. Larisa’s already dripping for me, and I’ve barely touched her. All it takes is for me to show my control over her body and she’s mine.”

Steve continued to rub her over her panties. It wasn’t long before Larisa’s body moved on its own, her hips bucking up to meet every movement of his skilled fingers.

Her eyes fluttered as her pleasure grew, but she managed to keep her gaze on James. His lips parted as he took in the erotic sight before him. Larisa didn’t miss the way his hands clenched at his sides, as if it was taking every ounce of self-control for him to not reach out and touch her. His eyes moved up and down her body, desperate to take it all in. When he finally looked up at her face to meet her gaze, she threw her head back onto Steve’s shoulder and began to grind against the other man. The look in her eyes told James just how badly she wished it could be him she was grinding against.

And then she was on the bed on her stomach. Steve was rough and quick as he moved her legs how he wanted them until she was on all fours for him, her ass sticking up in the air and her glistening folds spread for both men to see.

“She’s already soaked for me,” Steve told James. Larisa could feel both of the men’s lustful stares on her and it made the fire inside of her burn even hotter. “Which means she’s desperate. Exactly how you want your target to be. You want them begging you to give them release, and then they’ll give you exactly what you ask of them, no matter how classified the information is. If done the right way, pleasure can become the best form of torture.”

And then his mouth was on her, kissing and sucking and biting along the insides of her thighs. Her pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill her up. She couldn’t fight the urge as she ground her ass back against him, and though she knew it was coming, she still gasped when Steve brought a hand down on her ass, marking her skin a bright red.

Steve pulled away from her long enough to tell James, “It’s important to know your partners kinks, and when to implement them. Larisa, for example, has a pain kink. She loves it when you bite her and mark her skin. And she’ll practically beg for you to spank her. It’s fucking sinful.” The dark chuckle he gave revealed his approval of her dirty kink.

“Steve loves giving it as much as I love taking it,” Larisa breathed, her voice steady despite her racing heartbeat. “Don’t let the title of ‘Golden Boy’ throw you off. He’s a sadist through and—”

She didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence before Steve ripped her panties in half. Then his mouth was on her core, licking from her hole to the top of her clit. A surprised gasp fell from her. But before her pleasure could rise too much, he pulled away, as if he’d never touched her at all. Larisa whined, already needy and desperate.

“Teasing your partner through delayed gratification is one of the quickest ways to make them desperate,” Steve explained. “They’ll do whatever you want if it means giving them what they so desperately need.”

James cleared his throat before speaking up. “What about… doing the opposite? Giving too much?”

Larisa shivered, her thoughts going down dark places at that question.

Steve merely turned to James with a raised eyebrow, his interest piqued. “You mean overstimulation?” He shrugged. “It can work just as well, but that’s not my preferred method.”

“You prefer to not give her enough?” James wondered.

When Steve turned back to Larisa, he was smirking in a way that made her nervous. “I prefer her on her knees.”

And then his hand was in her hair, and he was yanking her to the floor, forcing her to her knees and shoving his cock in her face. She rubbed her nose across his clothed erection before quickly going to remove his pants. His cock sprung free, leaking precum as it bounced in front of her. She’d seen his manhood before, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. At eight inches, Larisa struggled to fit all of it in her mouth, though Steve loved forcing it all in anyways. The red tip shined with precum. She licked her lips at the sight as she remembered the salty taste of Steve’s cum, different from any other man’s due to the serum pumping through his veins.

“You know what to do,” was all the direction Steve gave as he stared down at her with an expectant look.

She didn’t waste a second to put him in her mouth, her hand instantly wrapping around the base. She worked her mouth and hand in tandem, twisting and slurping until Steve’s cock was soaked with spit and precum.

“Fuck,” Steve growled under his breath after a minute. He wrapped his hand in her hair before starting to fuck her throat, taking matters into his own hands.

Larisa hollowed out her cheeks, letting him use her mouth how he liked. Her eyes watered as she looked up at him. Steve held her gaze as he fucked her mouth, his breathing growing quicker and louder. He ignored the way she coughed and choked around his length, only stopping when his cock began to spasm with an oncoming orgasm. Reluctantly, he pulled his dripping cock out of her mouth.

Larisa moved to the bed as Steve said to James, “It’s important you don’t let yourself cum before you’ve fucked them. If you do, the whole job is over. Not only does it show that you can’t control your own pleasure—and therefore you don’t have control over theirs, either—but the whole point is to fuck them. That’s what everything is leading up to. Once you’ve been inside of them, they’re yours. You can’t turn an innocent woman into your dumb little slut if you don’t fuck them like one.”

Larisa moved onto her back and spread her legs. The bedsheets were cool against her burning skin, and she was suddenly reminded of the sharp spanking Steve had given her just minutes ago. Judging by the way her skin still burned, she knew it was going to leave a mark. She wasn’t surprised by that. Steve had an inherent primal kink, which she had helped him discover, and he had a habit of marking every one of his lovers—whether it be with his hands, his lips, or his teeth. He had once given Larisa a necklace of hickies that basically screamed “Property of Steve Rogers.” She had enjoyed being marked, enjoyed the thought of someone being possessive over her.

But she wanted James’s mark on her now.

That thought occupied her thoughts as Steve moved to the bed, resting on his knees as he stroked his cock. At some point he had undressed himself, but Larisa had been too caught up in thoughts of James to notice the unveiling of the soldier’s glorious body. Steve ran the tip of his cock along her folds, though, and suddenly she was back in the present, remembering how badly she needed to be fucked. But Steve didn’t enter her, didn’t do anything other than tease her as he ran his cock between her folds.

She looked up at him to find him already staring down at her, his blue eyes dark and dangerous. “Tell me what you want.” His voice was quiet, soft, but it sent a shiver of want through her anyways. “Beg for it. You’re such a pretty little slut when you tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.”

“Please, Steve!” she complied, her desire overpowering her dignity. “I need you inside of me, need you to fuck me until I’m coming around you. I want to milk your cock—”

He shut her up with a spank to her pussy that made her legs shake and ripped a gasp from her.

“Speak up,” he growled. “I want the entire Hydra base to know how desperate I’ve made my little cockslut.”

Her gaze drifted to James in the corner as she started to beg. And then suddenly she wasn’t begging for Steve, but for James. For the man she couldn’t have. Not yet.

“I want you to make me scream so loud I lose my voice,” she said. “Please, let me feel you when I’m walking around tomorrow. I want you to fuck me that deep. Please, please, please!” She screamed the last part, knowing her volume directly correlated with how hard Steve would fuck her.

The breath was ripped from her lungs when he entered her, shoving all the way in with one sharp thrust. Her whimper drew a growl from him.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Steve moaned and allowed himself a moment to bask in the pleasure now overwhelming his body. He squeezed his eyes shut as he let his senses overpower him, keeping him locked in place. His cock twitched inside of her but otherwise didn’t move.

Larisa brought her hands to Steve’s chest. She paused for a moment, letting herself soak in the sight of Steve like this—vulnerable with want and desire. It wasn’t something she saw often anymore. It brought her back to the days when he had been her student, long before he’d mastered the bedroom. Back when he was still soft and gentle and almost sweet. Before sex had become a weapon to him.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. And then she dragged her nails down his chest hard enough to draw blood. That awoke the feral beast in him, and suddenly he was fucking her so fast she couldn’t breathe. The room filled with the sounds of rough breathing, moans, and skin slapping skin. Larisa threw her head back in pleasure, a gasp trapped in the back of her throat that she only released when Steve began to rub her clit with a rough, calloused finger. Fuck, she was going to cum.

Steve’s movements changed. They became sloppy. He was on the verge of orgasm, too. He rubbed her clit faster, desperate to push her over the edge first. This was a game he wasn’t going to lose.

Larisa opened her eyes for just a second, just long enough to glance over at James. To notice the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of her writhing body. To notice the bulge that he now palmed over his pants. That was what threw Larisa over the edge—seeing James’s arousal, imagining him inside of her, fucking her like this. She came so hard she saw stars.

Steve fucked her through her orgasm, pushing past his own desire to ensure she found a complete release. And then he pulled out of her, jerking his cock off until he was coating her stomach with his seed, even getting a little bit on her breasts.

“Fuck.” Steve released a heady breath, suddenly looking exhausted. Larisa recalled how he always used to fall asleep in her bed right after their lessons, and she’d never had the heart to kick him out right away, always letting him get in a good thirty minutes before shaking him awake and telling him he had to go.

But now he forced himself to his feet. He dressed quickly as he asked James, “Any questions?”

James swallowed, looking between Steve and Larisa. There was something in The Asset’s eyes that Larisa couldn’t place. But finally he turned to Steve and shook his head. “No, I got everything.”

Steve nodded at him, gave Larisa a wink, and was gone.

Larisa forced energy back into her limbs and rose into a sitting position. James swallowed as he looked back at her, and it was only then that she realized she was completely naked, save for the red stockings. He eyed her body with lust-filled eyes. She’d had countless people look at her like that—like she was no more than fresh meat, and they hungry animals—and she had long ago gotten used to it. But when James looked at her like that… She found herself swallowing, too, her face burning as she blushed.

“What are you thinking right now?” She had to ask the question for training purposes, but her voice shook in an unprofessional way as she anticipated his answer.

James hesitated, focusing his gaze on the floor.

“You don’t have to hold back with me, James,” she reminded him. “Whatever you say stays in this room.”

He looked back at her, a flurry of emotions trapped in those blue eyes. They were beautiful, she realized. A mix of grey and blue that reminded her of the sky just before a heavy storm. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath as he stepped towards her until only a few inches remained between them. “I’m thinking that next time, I want to be the one to fuck you.”

Her breath caught in the back of her throat. She forced herself to look away, knowing she would do something dangerous if she didn’t. It was a long time later when she finally managed to say, “That will happen. Eventually. I have to ensure you can do it right before they send you out to the field again.”

Out to the field—where he would fuck other women. Because that was his job. And her job was to train him for that, so he could satisfy each and every person he brought into his bed, because it could be a lot. She was his trainer, nothing more. That’s all she could be. All she should be. For both of their sakes.

“That’s not what I meant,” James said, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, Larisa watched as he strode over to the desk, where a cloth and a bucket of water was waiting. James dipped the cloth in the water before ringing it out. Steve had forgotten to clean himself up before leaving, so the water was still fresh as James brought the cloth over to her.

She reached out for it, trying to take it from his hands.

He pulled away. “Let me.”

So she did. James was gentle as he dragged the warm cloth down her body—the opposite of everything Steve had been today. She swallowed as he wiped off the cum on her breasts. The room grew warmer as James’s movements slowed, not-so-discretely basking in the feeling of her breasts through the cloth. It wasn’t any easier to breathe when he moved onto her stomach. She froze, forcing herself not to move as he kneeled in front of her to get a better position for cleaning her off.

It was sweet. Generous. Nothing she thought The Asset was capable of. It made her burn in more ways than one.

A small whimper pushed past her lips as he spread her legs and wiped off the inside of her thighs. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from looking at him, to keep from begging her to kiss her, to take her right here and now, screw the consequences. And when he dragged the cloth between her folds, she thought she was going to combust. She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from begging him to touch her.

Yeah, James had learned his lesson for today. Larisa was already desperate for him, and he wasn’t even touching her sensually.

She didn’t hear him move, wasn’t aware of it until she heard his voice at her ear, low and husky. “Does that feel good, Larisa?”

She whimpered.

“Can I… touch you?” he asked, sounding as turned on as she felt. “Without the cloth?”

Yes. Please yes, the voice in her mind begged. But she fought it back. “That isn’t today’s lesson.”

“Maybe we can go off book,” he suggested.

Fuck, she wanted that. But she also wanted him safe. Whole. And the exact opposite would happen if anyone found out they were getting any sort of personal pleasure out of these lessons.

So she rose to her feet, jutted her chin out, and looked him out the eye as she said, “That wouldn’t be appropriate. We have rules to follow. I think you should go, James.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes, but he blinked it away before she could be sure it was really there.

And then he was gone.

...

Tag Squad:

@thereisa8ella @geralt-of-baevia @the-soot-sprite @bitchyikes @captainsy-cookiemonster

#bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier #steve rogers smut #hydra cap #steve rogers fic

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commander-hanji-zoe · 4 years ago

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Hii! I just read the Mike squirting headcanons and I gotta say, I fell in love. You wrote him so preciously 😩🤧💕 I was wondering whether, if you're fine with it, I could request one for Levi? 👀 But more sensitive reader who squirts often

Hey, ahhh I’m so glad you enjoyed the fic with Mike, I had a lot of fun writing it. I’ve written the below for you in relation to Levi. It starts off as more of a general musing/headcanons and then goes into a specific ‘event’ although I don’t go into as much nsfw detail. I wanted to write something with a different tone. Hope you enjoy! 💕

It’s a feeling that’s still relatively new to you and one that you can’t put into words. Outside of the bedroom it’s never spoken about and even with Levi you don’t really talk about it, it just is.

“Tch, disgusting.” And “Dirty girl”, Are the kinds of phrases that you’ve gotten used to in the bedroom. Levi it appeared, had a certain kind of hold over you like no one else you’d ever been with.

There was something in the way he worked his fingers, in the angle he worked…Something about him which made it difficult not to squirt when you came and it was almost always incredibly messy.

A part of you wondered and suspected Levi too wondered, whether it was because his passion for cleanliness and cleaning. It added an extra layer to the time you spent in bed together which was always intimate, erotic, a secret just the two of you held. Knowing how much Levi hated the mess though was a turn on, it got you off and perhaps you could even associate the word Schadenfreude with it.

When Levi told you not to cum, you almost certainly would within seconds and if he ordered you not to squirt, well, the bedsheets would be soaked afterwards. It turned out that around Levi you were rather a little too sensitive in that area and he was fond of teasing you about it which turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

The funny thing was that despite his cleanliness, he too appeared to have a kink for and get a kick out of making a mess in bed with you. To him it reminded him of his youth, not that that was cause to celebrate, from what you understood those years were difficult. But rather in bed with you, making your squirm and scream and mess yourself like that was one of the few moments he could comfortably let his guard down.

He didn’t have to be humanity’s strongest when he was in bed with you, he didn’t have to be perfect and spotlessly clean or feared. He could simply be human with an emphasis on the part of us which remains a little animalistic.

You’d always been somewhat sensitive when it came to being intimate with others or even yourself at times. Your body could react in unpredictable ways and over-stimulation was often a no-go because it was just too much to handle. Levi always respected your boundaries and so was careful not to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.

But he had the touch. ‘The touch’ was how you described it to others, it was the way he touched you, the way he used his fingers, the technique… It was all so different to what you’d experienced before. With Levi it was like you had an invisible button that even you didn’t quite know where it was but Levi knew exactly how to find it and when to push it.

Shaking, sweating, crying tears of pleasure, writhing around on the bed…all things you’d become more accustomed to since dating Levi.

He loved turning you on and transforming you into that state, he loved to watch your face contort as you reached orgasm and then there was this noise he’d make when you squirted. Kind of relief, joy, pleasure of his own marred with a little disgust, whether in you or himself for getting such a kick out of something so dirty, you weren’t entirely sure. He would rarely make himself climax before he made you cum, his restraint was nothing like you could have imagined. But if you were able to keep your eyes open and watch his cock when you reached orgasm you’d noticed as you squirted his own cock would bob and twitch in approval.

Sometimes Levi would put down sheets he’d bought so not to ruin the bedding and keep things as clean as he could. Sometimes you’d head to the bathroom so you could make as much mess as possible without it being difficult to tidy up.

But sometimes, on a very rare occasion when you got Levi in just the right mood he would like the mess. He wanted the sheets dirtied, wanted to have to clean up, sometimes before you have sex, sometimes before he’d cum. His cock would remain hard as he cleaned up, his erection straining painfully against his boxers, or occasionally he’d be naked and you’d see how tall his cock stood up against his stomach. Sometimes he wanted to be squirted on, liked it in his hair, over his chest, spraying onto his cock. He loved to lap at your pussy as you cum so he could drink down your juices and lick you clean when you were done, soft and gentle so you didn’t scream out.

One particular recent instance of bedroom antics though was, well, a little bit different to usual, more intense and extreme in a way you previously wouldn’t have thought possible. What happened was…

You and Levi had been apart for a few weeks, it was rare that you were separated for so long but your reunion was always a passionate one. This time had been no different, when Levi arrived home he had the same wild look in his eyes as he always did. The mixture of longing and relief to be with you again, the look that said I love you but also that he couldn’t wait to devour you.

By the time he had you on the bed you were begging for mercy, just an ounce of mercy and for him to make you cum.

“I’ll let you fuck me as many times as you want,” you begged, “Any position…” You paused for a moment. The desperate tone of your voice and the way you looked at him, yes, you had Levi’s full attention. “Any hole…” You continued. Levi smirked, it was a type of cold smirk yet not one that felt unloving. Just he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Well that is an interesting proposition,” he chuckled and held down one of your hands at the wrist next to your head.

Looking up at him as he straddled you really was one of the best views in the world.

“Tell me y/n have you touched yourself since I’ve been gone?”

You bit your lip, Levi already knew the answer before you opened your mouth. He bent down and kissed you, the sensations that ran through your body reminded you of the first time you kissed. It was late November and had felt practically forbidden, you kissed in the rain not caring if your clothes were soaked.

Now when Levi kissed you it brought back all those emotions which surged the first time you slept together. You shifted underneath him, rolling your hips upwards in a vain attempt to bring some relief. Touch starved didn’t begin to describe how you felt.

“What do I always say?” Levi asked.

“Patience is a virtue”

“Yes, and it’s one that’s well rewarded.” Levi nipped at your neck unexpectedly making you moan out, patience was so damn hard when you were with him.

The first time you squirted that evening was as standard. Both naked, you laid on your back, head propped up to make it easier to look down and watch Levi work between your legs. As always his kisses down your body were as sweet as they were torture, his fingers tracing your skin, lips occasionally pinching you and sucking at particular sensitive spots.

As soon as he slipped a finger inside you you let out a sigh, as wet as you were you knew Levi would slip a second finger and a third before long all while his thumb gently rubbed and circled your clit. He enjoyed taking it slow for a long time, drawn out movements and touch as light as a feather as he bent down and kissed between your thighs. With Levi it was all about the slow burn, he loved to build you up, tease you and get you close to orgasm before removing his fingers completely and stroking your thighs for a moment leaving you squirming and panting.

But in the end you always knew Levi would give you what you wanted, after-all he craved it too and you suspected he secretly hoped you would squirt every time.

After being apart for so long this time was no exception. As Levi started to pump his fingers into you faster, his thumb brushing your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, he looked up at you and that steel cold stare….The intensity of the moment meant you were unable to hold back any longer.

“Cum for me baby,” Levi instructed as he curled his fingers inside you.

Your body shuddered as you came, the orgasm rippling through your body and a moment after the first wave you squirted over Levi’s fingers and the bed.

As your heart rate started to slow Levi climbed on top of you, often he would clean up the mess before you continued for round two but this time it was clear how much he needed to be inside you.

Despite all the previous self-control Levi had once he was on top of you he let himself go.

The restraint, all pretence…everything was gone, the veil lifted as Levi moved inside of you. His hands touching you, one cupping your cheek and sliding up into your hair. His forehead bowed and touching yours as he climbed towards orgasm.

As your bodies became one you felt a familiar sensation creep up your spine that made you shudder, this was something that hadn’t happened before.

“Levi I….I think i’m going to.”

As he thrust deep inside you he panted, “It’s okay.”

And it really was.

As Levi pulled out and spilt his seed over your stomach you came, squirting as you did so, your juices splashed over his cock and between his thighs.

Levi collapsed onto you, his face pressed into your chest, his arm wrapped round you.

After a few moments Levi mumbled, “I love you…”

There was a lot of cleaning up to do but with Levi back it didn’t matter, you’d deal with that later. As for squirting twice, well the small chuckle that escaped Levi’s lips and the way he nuzzled into you, it was obvious he’d enjoyed it.

#Levi ackerman #nsft #levi x fem!reader #requests

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

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You Can’t Please Everyone - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: Welcome to Part 3 of my Marcus Moreno and Doctor Iris Moreno one shot series! This wasn’t originally the one I planned on releasing today, but I was going through it last night and @autumnleaves1991-blog suggested that I write my feelings out and let it all pour into my writing. She was right, I felt so much better afterwards. Still no descriptions for what Dr. Moreno looks like, I want you to feel like you can see yourself as her <3 Thank you all for your love and encouragement, I really appreciate it.

Warnings: angst, crying, parental problems, hurt/comfort, pregnancy mentions, language

Let me know what you think, what you’d like me to write next, want to be on a tag list for this series, etc. I want to interact with you all!

Iris opened the front door, trying her best to be quiet; she didn’t want to wake the kids. If Marcus got the timing right, their girls should have just finished their bedtime routine and have settled in for the night. She took her jacket off, hanging it up in the coat closet. All she wanted was to grab a glass of wine and curl up and have a good cry. Unfortunately, being pregnant meant no alcohol, so she would soldier through with a good cry in the shower, maybe.

Her heels clacked on the stairs. She went slowly, her heart and mind weary. Both girls had their doors open a crack, the universal sign that they wanted kisses and to be tucked in by momma, too, even if she came home a bit late. The drowsy kisses and ‘I love yous’ filled her with joy, covering the ache just a little. She knew that no matter what went wrong throughout the day, she would always be coming home to two precious little girls that loved her dearly. At this point, she couldn’t even imagine life without them.

Marcus was right where she expected him to be, in bed curled up with a good book. It still blew her away every time she stopped and realized that he was hers, and she was his. Being his wife, it was bliss in every sense of the word. She hadn’t expected him to propose; how could she when his last marriage ended the way it did? Iris would have been happy to be with him forever in any way that he’d have her, but she had to admit that she had wanted to be his wife. She had changed her name as fast as humanly possible, for the thought of being Dr. Moreno filled her with pride. He had suggested keeping her last name or maybe hyphenating it after he proposed. He knew how hard she had worked to make that name worth something, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. She had appreciated the gesture, but she insisted that her work was her own, no matter her last name. She wanted to share everything with Marcus Moreno, including his last name.

The man in question looked up, giving her one of his earth-shattering smiles, the one that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe. How could she not melt when his soft brown eyes held her gaze, baring his soul to her? She loved this beautiful man with every breath she took.

He frowned when he noticed her eyes had welled with tears, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks. Silently, he stood up, gently unzipping her dress for her and helping her into a shirt of his that she loved to wear to bed. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. He would wait her out; it was better not to press her. Marcus led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter while he cleaned her face with a warm washcloth and makeup remover. With each tender swipe of the washcloth, more tears fell. He could feel her shaking underneath him, the silent sobs giving way to heaving gasps.

Once he finished washing her face, he cradled her in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. He settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips, arms wound around his neck, face tucked in next to his own. The closer he could get to her, the better he knew she’d be able to feel. His hand snaked under the shirt, rubbing soothing circles on her back, fingers pressing patterns into her spine. He whispered words of comfort in his wife’s ear, willing her to hear what he was saying. Darling, I love you. I’m here for you; you’re not alone. Let it all out, baby. It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it all stuffed inside; just cry it out. Missy loves you, Jules loves you, I love you. He went on and on, pouring his love and adoration into her. Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was ready to talk. She pulled back a bit so that she could look into those kind eyes of his that never judged her or made her feel less than.

“Dinner with my dad was a disaster, Marcus, it was horrible. I should’ve known it would be bad, but I was hoping that this time might be different.”

He nodded sympathetically; her relationship with her father was complicated. That man was manipulative, two-faced, selfish, and frankly a terrible parent. He had never approved of their relationship, blatantly refusing to even come to their wedding, insisting that they’d be getting a divorce at some point anyway. No matter how happy they were together, that man was always finding something to nitpick. If it wasn’t the age gap, it was the fact that Iris had stepped up and filled the spot of mother that the girls had so desperately needed. He hated their jobs, their house, the fact that they were individuals with enhanced abilities. Marcus couldn’t think of a situation where he had ever said anything positive about, well, anything.

Despite all of this, he knew that Iris still loved him, still cared about him, and desperately wanted some type of relationship with him. She was the kindest person that Marcus had ever met. Her passion for people, her ability to truly empathize with others and try to help them heal was inspiring. He had never seen anything like it. He had seen it firsthand with his girls. She poured every ounce of love and devotion into them, treating them as if she had given birth to them herself. She said time and again that there was no difference to her. They were her girls just as much as they were his, and she loved them as such. That love and care extended to her father, too, no matter how many times he hurt her.

“What did he do, honey?” he was hesitant to ask. Marcus knew that he would get mad at her father and have to rein himself in. He hated to see his wife hurting like this, and it made his blood boil. No one should cause her this much turmoil, especially someone that was her parent.

“The whole thing was just a mess from the start. Dad was giving the poor waitress a hard time the second she came to the table. You know when he acts like he’s funny, but actually, he’s just rude? He was playing that game. I tried to talk him off the ledge and get him to bring it back in a bit. You should’ve seen her face, Marcus. She was petrified. Every time she came to the table, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I tried to make sure that I was as nice to her as humanly possible to make up for him. Jesus Marcus, he should know better. I bartended to help mom with money when she was sick, for goodness sake. I was just like that poor girl all through med school and up until I got hired at Heroics HQ. You’d think he’d be willing to consider that.”

He shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead, not interrupting her as she spoke. He knew that Iris needed to get it all out before he chimed in.

“Then he realized that I didn’t order any wine and commented on that, and oh fuck Marcus; it just came out. I just blurted out that I wasn’t drinking because we’re having a baby. He fucking laughed at me, told me not to joke about shit like that. When he figured out that I was serious, he was furious. He told me that I made a mistake, that this baby would just tie me down. He told me that this was a sign that it was time to give up my career and commit to being a mother. I just- I can’t believe everything he said. He went on and on about how I was finally having a real kid of my own as if Missy and Jules aren’t mine, and how it was unfortunate that this baby was yours. I thought that maybe he’d be happy that he’d be excited, but it was a shit show. He didn’t ask how far along I was or anything. I don’t know why I even do this anymore, why I even hope for his approval. It’s a battle I’m never going to win, so why even try? And fuck, these pregnancy hormones are making me so goddamn emotional. I couldn’t even make it through the main course. I made up a work emergency and left. I’m hurting, I’m fucking starving, and I just want to curl up and call it a night.”

There was silence for a few moments, Iris once again hiding her face in the crook of Marcus’ shoulder. He wished he could physically take the pain away, that he could take her heart in his hands and cradle it to his chest, protecting it from everything that threatened to break it. It killed him to see her like this, and it wasn’t fair; she didn’t deserve this. It didn’t help that at 12 weeks, her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her. It was always tricky for enhanced individuals to carry a child, even more so when the child was also enhanced. It just made everything a bit more complicated. He hadn’t seen it up close himself before. His ex hadn’t had powers. To see Iris suffering and struggling with harsher than average symptoms tore at his heartstrings. They were both so excited to have this little one; it would just be a bit more challenging.

“Baby, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a few things, get comfy okay?”

Marcus hated untangling himself from her, but he knew what might make her feel a bit better. She let out a noncommittal grunt, letting him know that she heard him. He quickly went down to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. He put everything on a tray, double-checking that he had what he needed before going back up to the bedroom. He set the tray on the bed, earning a grin from his darling wife.

“Okay, so you said you were hungry; I thought I’d grab the things you’ve been craving recently. I’ve got a bowl of butter pecan ice cream with strawberry sauce, the whipped cream from a can, and crumbled up potato chips with a side of frozen Reese’s peanut butter cups and that guava juice you started liking last week. Oh, and a grilled cheese that I made earlier and put in the fridge. I know you like them cold right now. I’m not gonna question it. I’m sorry you didn’t even get to eat anything when you went for dinner, but this might be even better.”

He settled into bed next to Iris, putting the tray on her lap. The giggle of delight that left her mouth made him feel warm inside. He watched her dig into the ice cream, telling him about the new developments that she was working on for his katanas, how she wanted to adjust the grips a certain way, and asking for his input. There she was, his wife was crawling back out of the pain and the hurt. He adored her enthusiasm for science and invention. She always had some idea or other to improve his weaponry and armor. He could listen to her passionately explaining her thoughts and ideas for the rest of his life, and he’d never get bored.

By the time she finished, the disaster of a dinner had been wholly forgotten. Marcus got up, placing the tray on the dresser. He’d deal with it in the morning. They spent another hour talking, cuddling, and holding each other tightly. After a while, he noticed that Iris began to nod off, her eyelids struggling to stay open. He adjusted their position so that they were lying down, and his love was wrapped securely in his arms. She fell into sweet slumber to the sound of Marcus murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and his hand rubbing her tummy, holding her and their baby close. She may not be able to please everyone, but she had Marcus, their two girls, and this baby. In the end, that was everything. It was all she needed.

Tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @madness-roses @bisexual-space-slut @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @cinewhore @revolution-starter @mrschiltoncat @softpedropascal @paniclana @jollyrancher87 @hdlynnslibrary @maybege @corrupt-fvcker @cyaredindjarin @magicsuperheroes @flightlessangelwings @itspdameronthings @fallingoutofthe1975 @thestreamergirl

#marcus moreno #we can be heroes #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x fem!reader #pedro pascal #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno story

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underatedcharactersunite · 4 years ago

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Howling At The Moon!

Summary; Sandor unexpectdly finds his mate, as expected she is human... Pairing; Werewolf!Sandor Clegane x Female Reader WordCount; 1, 059 Warnings. Strong Language, Slight A/B/O themes but not a lot, possessiveness ,Angst, Fluff, Slightly OC Sandor A/N - Day 2 of Spooktacular October begins. Day 1 can be read here I can write a part 2 to this if people want me too. Also part of @deansamore end of year challenge

»»————-　🎃　————-««

Sandor had a secret that endangered everything. Before you, Sandor preferred solitude, he relished in existing alone. Sanford was able to conduct himself in any manner he deemed fit. He moved and travelled freely. Sandor was a law onto himself and he preferred it that way.

However, his life invariably played brutal jokes whenever Sandor felt his life was a lesser hell than usual. As Sandor marched through Kingslanding he searched the large gathering of people. While he was unable to detect an immediate threat, he caught a peek at you. His brown eyes momentarily flashed crimson as a protective possessive growl rumbled in the back of his throat. Mate. His subconscious reiterated.

Sandor was no fool. While his parents had failed to educate him on his true self, he spent many hours reading up on the specifics of his kind. The additional information Sandor read the clearer the reasoning his parents failed to educate him became. They believed he would never locate his mate. After his accident, they promptly sold him to the Lannisters where Sandor memorized and trained to become a skilled Swordsman.

In his spare time, he educated himself on dealing with a full moon, what his crimsons eyes meant and the possibility of Sandor meeting his mate. Sandor understood the craving he would soon experience to be close to you. As you met his intense stare, you smiled his iron heart fluttered, Sandor was doomed.

Over the coming days and weeks, Sandor slowly began to approach you. As it turned out you owned a fruit and vegetable stall, everything that you were unable to sell that day, you gave away to the people who were struggling to buy food. Sandor found it adorable the way you often communicated passionately or whenever a child visited your stall attempting to purchase a piece of fruit you bestowed it to them for free. Other the other hand, whenever the two of you were in the comfort of your home, you spoke of your distaste for King Joffery. It certainly reiterated that you were meant to be his mate.

When the battle of the Blackwater crept closer like a vile illness, Sandor grew terrified. He had only just established a relationship with you, You were no highborn lady, he couldn’t kee you with the Queen Mother or lady Stark, you were utterly defenceless.

Or in his mind, you like him encountered many trials and tribulations in your life. You were skilled with a dagger and a bow and arrow, you could fight. Sandor only wished he could be the one to protect you.

“Would you relax, I am sure the mighty Lannisters will win the war against Stannis Baratheon. its obvious men will die, I just hope the Gods will spare you.” You poured Sandor another glass of wine as you began to walk away, Sandor grabbed your hand.

e God’s will have nothing to do with my survival. I am coming back to you regardless. No fucker is going to get in my way. I’ll cut every one of those bastards down. As will you, anyone comes at you, you cut them down. I don’t care if they are Lannister or Baratheon. Better yet, make sure they’re still alive and I’ll give them one hell of bloody death.” Laying a hand firmly on Sandor’s shoulder, you pressed a gentle kiss onto the burnt side of his face.

“I know what to do, the arrows and the bow you brought to me are right by the door, just-in-case.” Sandor didn’t know what to say to you, so he brought you into his lap, wrapping his large arms around you tightly.

“I won’t lose you, I won’t”

Luckily for the both of you, the two of you were indeed alive. Both of you fought valiantly as you fought for your lives. You both desired to get back to each other, but returning to each other was met with further complications. Sandor decided he had enough of Joffery’s cruelty and reign. The night the Blackwater burnt is the night the two of you began a new life.

‘Life proved to be harder for Sandor when the two of you began life on the road. He was no longer able to plan his visits around the full moon. He was suddenly making excuses about going away to collect firewood. However, you were not a clueless person, it rapidly became apparent to you something was wrong.

Refusing to force Sandor’s confession, you continued to pretend to be clueless Sandor was acting strange. It was the moment, you and Sandor encountered the Brotherhood without banners for the first time, did catch a glimpse of Sandor’s crimson eyes. With Thoros’s blade to your throat, Sandor lost every ounce of control, he unleashed the beast within as he fought against Berric Dondarrion despite the man’s enlightened blade. When the fight was over and Sandor collapsed to his knee’s he cared nothing about his surroundings, only you.

Sandor panicked when he witnessed your face shocked and void of all emotion. When Berric let both of you go despite Arya’s protest, the moment he was away from everyone, he collapsed to his knees.

“Please don’t fear me...Not you..I’ll leave if you want me too.”Observing Sandor so desperate and pleading for your approval, you crouched down yet even there he still managed to tower over you.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere, but I need you to tell me exactly what is going on.” Resting a hand on Sandor’s face, he despised how relaxed he felt almost immediately.

“This is not an easy thing to tell you...I’m...I’m a werewolf.” Sandor expected many things, the idea of you fainting, calling him a monster, a thousand questions rumbling off of your tongue like a tidal wave, but not what you were currently doing. You were in hysterics. A pure look of joy etched over your face.

“That’s brilliant, I presumed you were having an affair, until I examined everything and then realised you only ever disappeared on whenever there was a fullmoon. Not to mention how possessive and jealous you are. It all made sense”

“Wait you know.”

“Of course, I do. Now why don’t we go find somewhere to camp, I get the feeling we are not done dealing with Arya Stark just yet…”

#deansamoreendofyearchallenge #sandor clegane imagines #Sandor clegane imagine #game of thrones imagine #Game of thrones imagines #sandor clegane one shot #sandor clegane oneshot #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones oneshot #got imagines #Got imagine #got one shot #got oneshot #Spooktober 2020

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teknicianwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Kissing a scar that they got from something traumatic for f!Hawke and Merrill?

Thank you for the lovely prompt! This definitely got away from me, but I think I like it anyway.

@dadrunkwriting

Meredith gave Marinda a last long look before nodding. "I trust we understand each other, Champion." She turned away, calling out to gather the mages and Templars she'd brought and headed back to the Gallows.

Carver glanced back at her and she gave him a sheepish shrug. He rolled his eyes and fell in line with the rest of his Order.

She took a moment to breathe in the cool night air of Hightown, but the normal comforting scent of night-blooming flowers was covered by blood and smoke.

Andraste give me strength.

Cheering erupted as Marinda gingerly walked back into the main hall of the Viscount's keep. Nobles rushed to her side to express their gratitude, touching her, crowding her, blocking her view as she tried to find her lovers in the crowd.

She forced a smile to her face and nodded at whatever Lady de Cerrac said. "If that's the best the Qunari have it's a wonder they're still causing trouble in the north," she replied, with no idea whether it was relevant to the topic. It probably was. If not to de Cerrac then to someone talking at her. The Arishok's body still lay on the ground where he'd fallen, and even the aristocracy of Hightown didn't have that short of an attention span.

Tittering laughter followed her words so it must have been the right thing to say, except it quickly became the wrong thing to say as a strong hand gave her an approving slap on the back. It took every ounce of willpower she had to grin through the fire that lanced through her abdomen for it. The owner of the offending hand grinned back at her underneath a disheveled mustache. "Too right, Champion, too right you are!"

Maker, she had to get out of here. She couldn't pass out in front of everyone, not after the Knight-Commander had given her that title.

She could have cried with relief when Aveline pushed her way through the throng, Merrill trailing close behind and Varric's voice ringing out, "Alright everyone, I know she's impressive but I do believe our Champion has earned her beauty sleep."

Despite the murmurs of disappointment, the crowd parted for the Guard Captain as she led Marinda out into the night. Merrill came to her side, and Marinda clutched at her hand for support.

"Where's Bela?" she asked softly, still forcing herself to walk with an event gait while within sight of the dispersing nobility.

"She skulked away in the commotion," Aveline said, voice hard with disapproval.

Merrill tucked herself closer, pulling Marinda's hand to drape her arm over her shoulder, and Marinda leaned into it gratefully. Her warm body shared much-needed heat after Marinda's recent blood loss."I think the crowd made her nervous. She'll be back. She always comes back."

Aveline shot her a skeptical look, but upon looking over Marinda's increasingly failing attempts to hide her pain, kept her thoughts to herself.

"What did the Knight-Commander want, Chuckles?" Varric asked as they walked through an empty side-street on the way back to her home.

"Oh, you know, the normal things." Marinda attempted a half shrug and choked back a whimper for how it made agony shoot down her side. "The duties of a Champion, my responsibility to the city, she'll throw me in the Gallows if I don't toe the line. All the standard formalities."

Merrill's eyes widened as she turned to her, and Marinda stumbled. "She wouldn't. You saved the city! You can't lock someone up after they saved the city!"

In the privacy of the alley she allowed herself a small groan from the sudden change in angle. Merrill bit her lip apologetically and returned her position at Marinda's side. "She didn't say those exact words, but it was heavily implied."

Aveline frowned. "It may have been bravado, Hawke. She named you Champion herself. Hauling you in now would be a tough sell."

"Red's right," Varric agreed, then hummed thoughtfully. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to ingratiate yourself with the hoity-toity in the coming months." Marinda groaned at the thought and Varric shrugged. "I'm just saying. You get into some weird shit with some weird people. Hightown having your back would be a good position to be in."

"I just saved all their lives! Isn't that enough?" Marinda whined, because if she was whining in annoyance then she wasn't whining in pain.

"With these people? Start going to the dinner parties, Chuckles. Trust me on this."

They reached the front door of her estate and she slumped in defeat. Merrill unlocked it for her and helped her through the threshold. She was immediately greeted by a cold mabari nose against her palm..

"Hey, Cal. It's fine. I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring scratch behind the ear.

Cal whined his disagreement and licked blood from her hand.

"Meserre!" Bodhan peeked his head out from the basement. "You're alright! Is the trouble over?"

"Yes, Bodhan. Everything's fine." Her gut was screaming at her to lie down and she was cold and lightheaded from blood loss, but she was breathing and the house was still standing. That counted as fine, right? "Do we have any elfroot?"

His eyes darted over her bloody and battered form. "I believe so, meserre. Is there anything else you need? Food? A hot bath?"

A hot bath sounded lovely, but she was afraid she would black out and drown in it. Not a very Championly way to die. "Maybe some broth? And water?" She knew she desperately needed fluids.

"Of course, meserre. Orana's down the stairs keeping the boy calm. I'll have her whip something up for you right and proper."

"Thank you."

Merrill scurried off after him, saying she was going to get some bandages, and Marinda was suddenly faced with the prospect of getting to her room.

All she wanted to do was pass out in her bed, but the stairs down from the Viscount's Keep had been bad enough. Stairs going up? She stared at the climb in despair.

Aveline must have seen her face. She held out her hand and, when Marinda moved to take it, gently scooped her up into her arms. Marinda hissed as her middle was jostled, and Maker, if she had the blood for it she would be blushing in humiliation at finding herself in a bridal carry.

"Aveline-" she tried to protest, and Aveline cut her off with a stern glare.

"No, Hawke. Hush. I've got you."

Varric's amused face quickly fell when she didn't put up any more fight. "I'm going to see if I can find Blondie for you."

Marinda shook her head. "He's probably healing people the Qunari hurt. Don't pull him away from that, I'll be fine."

He gave her a dubious look. "All the same. I'll let him know you're hurt and ask him to check on you when he gets a chance."

She was too tired to keep arguing and let herself slump into Aveline's hold.

Aveline carefully carried her upstairs and carefully deposited her on her bed. Cal immediately hopped up to her side, snuffling his concern at her neck.

"No, buddy," she murmured. He whined, but she knew he would get in the way of getting her armor off. "Foot of the bed," she offered in compromise, and he whined again but obeyed.

Merrill came through the door, balancing bandages, rags, a bowl, a cup, and a pitcher in her arms. She must have had Bodahn pile it onto her; there was no way she could have stacked it herself. "I've got everything. Well, not everything, Orana's working on the broth, but everything else. There's elfroot under here somewhere, if I can… oh…" She seemed to realize her predicament. Her arms were so full she had no way to put anything down without dropping it all, and the sloshing from the pitcher told Marinda it was already full.

Aveline came to her rescue, setting the pitcher on the nightstand and helping her unload the rest onto the bed.

"Thank you Aveline! I didn't think that through. I should have let Bodhan help me but poor Sandal was so scared I couldn't bear to pull him away with Orana needing to cook," she rambled anxiously.

"It's fine, Merrill." Aveline gave Marinda a long look. "You'll really be alright? You're not trying to joke away internal bleeding?"

Marinda huffed a soft laugh she immediately regretted. "Everything hurts, but I'm not going to die. I may not have my own ride-along passenger like Anders, but I'm still a healer. I'm not losing any blood. Just need time to make some more."

"I'm trusting you on this, Hawke. You'd better be alive tomorrow," was the stern reply.

Marinda gave a weak smile. "Champion's honor." She gave a weak salute. Did Champions salute? She didn't know. She should have asked Meredith for a handbook. "Go. I know you need to check on your men and get the city to stop being on fire." Marinda watched Aveline's face meander between exasperation and amusement, before finally making the unexpected journey to sincere.

"Thank you. You saved a lot of lives tonight. Even if Hightown forgets that in a month, I won't." Aveline gave her hand a squeeze and looked to Merrill. "Take care of her."

"I will," she promised.

Aveline gave them both a nod and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

Merrill hovered at her side. "Ma vhenan, what do you need?"

"Water. Please."

Merrill helped her drink, then gave her some elfroot to help with the pain. Marinda chewed on it, ignoring the bitter taste as Merrill carefully helped her out of her ruined armor. Her lover was gentle, but everything hurt and Merrill apologized for every wince and gasp.

"Creators…" Merrill stared at the fresh scar on her stomach.

"Fuck," Marinda agreed, looking down at herself.

She'd known it was bad. The Arishok had run her completely through and pinned her to the wall of the Keep. But even with dried blood obscuring it, Marinda felt light-headed to see just how much of her torso had been rent apart.

Merrill took an unsteady breath and dipped a clean rag into the bowl of water, gently washing the blood away to reveal the full extent of the scar. Her hand shook as she wet the rag again, moving to clean a smaller wound at Marinda's shoulder.

Marinda tore her gaze from the scar and looked at Merrill's face to find her eyes welling with tears. Marinda gently caught her wrist and pulled the cloth away, setting it aside and entwining their fingers with her other hand.

"I'm ok, Merrill. I'll be ok."

Merrill tightened her grip like her hand was a lifeline. "You almost died."

The Arishok whirled on her, and she ducked away from his axe and stumbled against the wall.

She should have been watching the sword.

"I'm alive. I'm here."

"You almost died. You were on the ground and you weren't moving and there was so much blood… Creators, there was so much blood."

Agony liked fire burned in her gut, clear through her back. She heard metal scrape against stone as she looked down at the weapon piercing her torso.

"I'm here."

"You were already so hurt and then-"

Her vision blurred as she looked up at his snear.

"Your role is realized."

"Shhhh."

"You shouldn't have done it. I didn't teach you just to watch it kill you. You almost died-"

This was how she was going to die. She stared into his eyes and distantly heard someone scream her name. She turned toward the sound and saw Bela, restrained by two Qunari, frantically trying to break free.

Bela….

"I couldn't let him take her."

She was dying, but she wasn't dead yet. And she wouldn't let him have her.

"I know. I know, ma vhenan. But I thought I lost you. I thought I killed you."

With a cry of rage and pain, she ripped the power of her own lifeblood from her wound, and boiled his blood in his veins.

"You saved me."

"Merrill no, there's too many people-"

Marinda turned Merrill's hands over and pushed back her sleeves, and traced the fresh scars from where she had used her own blood to keep Marinda's in her body.

"I can only slow the bleeding, I can't close the wound. Heal yourself, vhenan."

"That was so dangerous, love. All of the nobility could have seen."

"Merrill…"

Merrill laughed through her sobs. "You started it. You lost so much blood they would have thought it was yours."

"I can't lose you. Heal yourself or I'll bleed myself dry, I won't watch you die-"

Marinda kissed her left wrist, then her right, feeling each scar beneath her lips that had saved her life.

"I can't."

"You can."

She kissed them again, and a third time for good measure, and it wasn't until she tasted saltwater that she realized she was crying.

Merrill's gaze was resolute. Marinda had no mana left, and she couldn't use her own blood to stop the bleeding. Merrill was offering her own.

Her throat was closing up, but she made herself speak. "I can't lose you either, love. You're my heart too. You and Bela."

As Varric and Bela distracted the crowd and Aveline used her own body to shield them from sight, Marinda tentatively reached for the pull of Merrill's heart. It wasn't Marinda's blood and she couldn't call on Joy this way, but she was still a healer. Ignoring the pains that weren't threatening her life, she mended back arteries and organs and flesh. She was used to the warmth of Joy, or the soothing cool of creationism, or even the steady burn of Justice, but this felt raw. Primal.

Merrill took a hand back to cup Marinda's cheek. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

With careful attention to Merrill's pulse, she healed as much and as quickly as she dared, increasingly aware she was twice a maleficar in the Viscount's throne room. She didn't think she'd have the strength to run.

Marinda smiled and pulled her close. "Absolute disasters."

Confident that if she died tonight it wouldn't be from this wound, she made a last small pull on Merrill and sealed the bleeding at her wrists.

They both cried, delayed terror finally safe to be expressed, and then they kept crying, in relief and disbelief that they had survived and were free.

When they finally calmed, Marinda kissed her, tasting salt and lyrium and blood.

"I love you, Merrill."

"I love you too."

Merrill finished cleaning her and carefully wrapped the cuts and scrapes that hadn't been healed. Orana came by with the broth, and Merrill helped her drink it. She gave her more elfroot to chew as she changed out of her own bloodied clothes, and poured her some more water to wash away the taste.

She helped Marinda lie down and kissed her brow. "Sleep, vhenan. I'm sure Anders will be by tomorrow, and you'll want to be rested for that. If Varric told him what happened we're probably in for a scolding."

Marinda chuckled and closed her eyes. Merrill put out the lights and snuggled into her shoulder, and Cal crawled along the bed to curl up at her other side.

She was alive. Kirkwall was still standing. She was its Champion, whatever that meant. Merrill was with her, and though she didn't know where Isabela had gone, she knew she was free.

Marinda slept.

#Teknicianfic #Dadwc #Hawke/merrill #dragon age fanfiction #Potatowitch #Thank you for the lovely prompt!#It didn't at all go where I was expecting but I'm ok with it

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aingealcethlenn · 4 years ago

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Finding Home Chapter 1

Intro

*Flashback Chapter*

1982 I was born in the early parts of 1982 in Russia. My family was indebted to Hydra - or, more specifically, Wolfgang von Strucker. The Leader of Hydra.

Because of this debt, von Strucker took me. He brought me to his home and raised me for the first five years of my life.

Though I didn’t realize it at the time, for obvious reasons, this was when my programming began. It was small, simple, but it was training nonetheless. Learning to recognize multiple languages, speak three by the time I was four years of age. Praising only Hydra and its work, only allowing approved literature inside the home, minor things most would overlook.

1987 Once I reached the age of five, von Strucker passed me off to another one of his agents. A Russian soldier by the name of Ivan Petrovitch.

Ivan had another young girl, only about two years younger than myself, that he was raising.

Natalia Romanova became like a sister to me. I watched over her. I protected her. She may not have known it at the time, but I recognized that we were all we had from very early on.

Petrovitch continued with my training and early education alongside Natalia’s. Before long, I spoke fluently in seven different languages and understood dozens of others through speech and text.

We learned the basics, reading, and writing, but we also learned so much more. Through the years, as we got to certain ages, Ivan made sure that we could wield small weapons. Knives, daggers, I was even taught the proper way to handle and shoot a small nine-millimeter Glock handgun.

I knew there must be something to our form of learning, something different from typical children. Surely it wasn’t common practice for a child under the age of ten to know so much about weapons, language, how to defend themself, or even how to kill another human being - right?

Not only did I have our regular learning throughout the day with Natalia, but I also was taken each night for more, I suppose you would call them classes, at some strange facility run by Hydra. My personalized training focused on more specific things - stealth, marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat. Yes, I was young, but my size and innocence only worked to my advantage in most cases.

1992 At ten years of age, von Strucker informed me that I was going to be starting school.

I was young, not stupid. I knew this wasn’t going to be some ordinary school that normal children attended. Hell, I’d already been going to whatever classes and training he felt I needed to attend for the past four years. There was no denying this school would be no different.

Having heard von Strucker and Petrovitch talking in the past, I knew I would never be an average child. They were grooming me to be something else.

I had it in my head that I was not only going to be whatever they intended me to be, but I was also going to surpass their expectations; I would be better.

1994 For two years, I had been without my sister. Not since the day von Strucker took me from home and dropped me off at the god awful Academy. When Natalia walked through the doors with Petrovitch, I felt a short-lived sense of relief.

I'm not sure what I expected to happen to her while I was gone, don't get me wrong, our 'home' life wasn't rough, not by any means. We were as 'typical' as we could be, even with all the extra training, but still, a part of me hoped for something more for her - something that resembled a 'normal' life.

Throughout the following years, I helped Natalia, working with her any chance I could.

Though our schedules didn’t leave much ‘free time.’ I made sure she knew the importance of the training, the importance of being the best at what we did. We would skip meals on occasion or stay awake after lights out. Though we couldn’t leave our beds, we made do how we could.

Natalia and I were inseparable when the opportunity presented — trying to offer any ounce of normalcy that we could into our lives.

When I wasn’t in classes, I was with Hydra agents in a separate area of the school. Though it was never explicitly explained to me, I knew it was an area designated just for the agents and myself. Strucker told me it was because I needed extra training, training that the Academy didn’t offer.

I didn’t realize that they were conditioning me even further for my future, forming me into what von Strucker wanted most. Implanting trigger words to all but guarantee he got what he sought after.

“Моя прекрасная темнота. Скоро вы будете свободны. (My beautiful darkness. Soon you will be free.)” he used to say to me, though I didn’t understand it at the time.

2000 I was at the top of my class. The best that the Red Room had ever had passed through its doors.

Strucker had a goal in mind, though. I was to be more. Much more. I understood that, then.

Natalia took over my spot at the top of the list. She became the Widow prodigy. I knew then that I no longer had to worry about my best friend, my sister. She could hold her own and take down just about anyone if they crossed her.

After my ‘graduation’ ceremony was complete, von Strucker sent me to a new location.

Siberia.

Little did I know that would be the last time I would see my sister until many years later.

2002 I had been a Winter Soldier for two years. The only other successful soldier created under Hydra. My training was complete. I was the very best that Hydra had.

I was the perfect creation, according to von Strucker. Strength beyond measure. Impeccable eyesight - making the task of being a sniper that much easier.

I surpassed the original Winter Soldier early on and continued to get better as training progressed. There was now no one on the planet better than I.

The Soldier was now my ‘partner’ as it were. We would go on undercover missions together, acting as cover for each other when needed. They knew we would take care of each other. Make sure we both returned unscathed.

2009 Nine years had passed since I became the perfect weapon for Hydra.

Following the Soldier on what I thought was just another mission, Hydra sent us after a scientist.

They never gave a reason, just an expected result required. “Убей ученого. Не оставляйте свидетелей. (Kill the scientist. Do not leave witnesses.)” That was all the instruction we needed.

After shooting out the tires of the vehicle he was in, we watched as it lost control and went over the cliff. The task was never complete until we could confirm the death.

As we were scanning the wreckage, we saw a companion pulling our mission's lifeless body from the vehicle; we realized this would be more difficult than initially imagined. He had help. That was when I saw it was no ordinary companion that was accompanying the man.

Time slowed, the Soldier lined up his shot, ready to pull the trigger to take out both of the people below.

“Солдат! Нет! (Soldier! No!)” I called out. Nudging the weapon enough that he missed the shot he wanted.

I watched as both figures below fell to the ground.

She was doing her job and had been covering the scientist. The shot went straight through her stomach, killing the man she was to protect.

“Почему ты остановил меня? (Why did you stop me?)” He growled, gripping my arm tightly.

“Женщина не была целью. Пожалуйста, пощадите ее. (The woman was not the goal. Please spare her.)” It was a muted demand rather than a question, and that was enough to have him release my arm and walk away silently.

Once he was out of sight, I made my way down to her.

Pulling her close, I put pressure on her stomach to try to do what I could to slow the bleeding.

“У тебя все будет хорошо, Наталья. Я обещаю тебе. (You'll be alright, Natalia. I promise you.)”

Once I had her stable enough that I felt she would live, I used her phone in the mangled car to send a message to whoever sent her.

Despite what Hydra turned me into, I would not allow my sister to die.

2010 Nearly a year later, seeing Natalia alive and sitting alone at a small table outside a local coffee shop in New York was the best feeling in the world at the moment.

I had lost everything. My ‘family’, my life… my home.

Now, here I am, watching my sister from afar. Unaware of how much she knew of my life after the Academy - frankly, I didn’t much care. She was the only one I could count on right now.

I knew she was on the hunt for the Soldier. I knew she’d never find him.

I also knew she was alone. So I cautiously approached her.

We talked. We got caught up on important events that had happened in our lives, and I was proud Nat managed to get out of Hydra by herself.

I was thankful she didn’t know all the details of her ‘accident’ as well. She had no idea of the part I played. She had no idea that I had even been there.

I never told her what happened to me. I never told her the truth about how I knew the Winter Soldier.

When she asked for my help to find him, I didn’t tell her where he was. Though, I told her I could very easily track him.

I wanted to offer my sister my assistance desperately, but I had to protect the Soldier - my Soldier. Sure, he had a new mission, and he was technically back on ice for now, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell her where they kept him? She’d realize he was too far away and give up, right?

No.

I couldn’t risk it. Instead, all I offered her was that she should end her search because he was gone for now.

I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet, anyway.

Chapter 2 - Masterlist - Tag List

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thereluctantinquisitor · 4 years ago

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OC Kiss Week 21

I arrive with a humble entry, dedicated to my lovely @frenchy-and-the-sea. Thank you for letting me borrow one of your Seven Cities characters!

This turned out a lot longer than expected because of who I am as a person. Anyway I hope you like it, and I apologise in advance for any wild inconsistencies with the Captain of my Heart and Soul.

~2000 words, original fiction (a hearty blend of Stonebreaker and Seven Cities)

_______________________________

There weren’t a lot of things to be said about sailors. Well, other than the conclusive fact that they were all utterly insane. But there was something about that cocksure Captain Alex, with her big hat and big ego to fill it, that had been keeping Sylda up later and later into the night. Before, she would just lie in her makeshift pallet, entertaining increasingly ridiculous ideas; the kind that scythed their way through her skull to the rhythm of the rocking ship. This time, partly out of desperation, she had opted for the aid of fresh air to clear her mind.

Perched on the wooden taffrail, her gaze - and left leg - swung out over the ocean’s dark oblivion. For the first time in over a week, she was finally alone. Thinking.

Just... thinking.

How Delver had managed to find them passage on a remotely seaworthy vessel was nothing short of a miracle. Sylda hadn’t asked any questions - she certainly knew better than to look the proverbial horse in the mouth. But the fact that they hadn’t been gutted and keelhauled the second they lost sight of land still hadn’t quite sunk in. She’d heard stories about the mad seafarers of the east. About their obsession with dark water. About their greed and cold steel. About the way they used people as bait to lure creatures from the deep...

Well, she supposed she should be grateful they hadn’t ended up on one of those vessels. Delver was a lot of irritating things, but at least a decent judge of character appeared to be one of them.

The sound of a door suddenly creaking open earned a carefully languid glance, the motion at utter odds with the lurch of surprise in Sylda’s stomach. Relax, she chided herself. This wasn’t some ale-soaked back alley. It was probably one of those twins - Fin or Din or something - wandering out to take a piss.

Her rational side’s attempt to assert dominance crumbled the second she realised who had actually stepped out onto the afterdeck.

“Captain Sheffield.” Sylda wasn’t about to snap to attention, but she gave Alex what she felt was a suitably deferential nod. “It’s a nice night. Out for a stroll?”

Alex’s nose wrinkled slightly. “Some fresh air, more like. Not much strolling to be had back here.”

That was true enough. There were far better options for an evening walk than the stern, after all. Letting the door swing shut behind her, Alex groaned softly and moved forward, hands on her lower back, stretching as she went. From her vantage, Sylda swore the line of Alex’s spine had fixed itself into a slight bow, ready at any moment to diligently curve itself over a desk. Whatever she and Delver had been up to, it seemed to have gone far longer and far later than expected. He probably drove her half-way mad, rambling on the way he does, she thought, smiling slightly to herself. At least someone else got to experience the uniquely infuriating pleasure of his company.

As quickly as the smile arrived, she shooed it away with a start. No - she would rather die than admit to even an ounce of fondness for the insufferable man. He was a means to an end, and she was exactly the same thing for him. That knowledge - that truth - had served them well over the seasons.

A sharp clearing of the throat pulled Sylda from her thoughts. Alex had stopped a few steps from the door, and something about the hawk-like intensity of her gaze made Sylda feel very much like a mouse on a platter. “Do me a favour,” Alex began slowly, as though each of her words required careful and deliberate measuring. “If you’re plannin’ on tipping yourself into the sea, kindly do so when I’m not close enough to feel obliged to go in after you.”

That startled a laugh out of Sylda. “Oh? Is that something captains do?” When Alex’s stern expression didn’t waver, she cocked her head and smiled. “C’mon - don’t give me that look. Are you trying to tell me that daring rescues aren’t actually part of the job description?”

It took a moment before Alex responded, and when she did, it was strangely like a confession. “It’s... more a personal habit than a demand of the position.” She snorted softly. “An unfortunate one at times, if you ask Tahir. Reckon that particular impulse has had a fair hand in turning him grey over the years.” The brief moment of levity, however, vanished as quickly as it arrived. “But let me be clear; I've no intention of feeling guilty tonight.”

There was no mistaking the unspoken command. And frankly, with those piercing eyes leveled at her, Sylda didn’t feel particularly keen to risk disobedience. That was a strange thing all by itself. Divider, she’d cussed out bandits with a knife to her neck - spat in the face of guards hauling her off for a week in the pit. But now, she found herself sighing and swinging both her legs ship-side. Without even a trace of her usual malicious compliance, she slid smoothly until her feet were pressed safely to the wooden deck. “Well, I wouldn’t want to cause you any grief, Captain.” Her eyes flicked up and she flashed a half-smile. “You know, I’ve actually got a pretty steady set of legs under me. Been running rooftops since I was tall as your waist.”

“That so?” Alex folded her arms, but something about her posture had shifted. Loosened. “Well, when rooftops start pitching in a swell, make sure you pass on word. I’m sure plenty of folk will be keen to know another viable application for their sea legs.”

“Alright, alright. Point taken. I’ll keep my arse off the rails.” Still chuckling, Sylda turned, leaning her forearms on the lacquered wood instead. “Can’t imagine a stiller night than this one, though. Can a ship even move in this?”

The sound of boots against the deck heralded Alex’s approach. Arriving beside her, the Captain mirrored her pose, allowing her weary back to settle into a more familiar position. “Aye, it can, but not at any particular speed.” She motioned at something in the dark, her finger tracing a line over the water. “The current here runs south-east. We’ll just let her drift in that direction until the wind picks up.”

“That won’t take us off-course?”

Alex shrugged. “Not far enough to be worried, unless we’re becalmed for days on end. But I can’t say I’ve had that happen out here. The Pale’s not a quiet sea. This is...”

Alex trailed off, closing her eyes, as though to better feel the strange stillness. There was no real need for her to finish her sentence; Sylda simply allowed herself to lapse into the same peaceful silence. The sound of the water lapping against the hull was a soothing rhythm for tired souls. It had been a long few weeks. Seasons, even, if she were being truly honest.

“Hey... can I admit something?” Sylda eventually asked. That, it seemed, piqued Alex’s curiosity. The Captain turned away from the water, arching a brow to indicate her approval. Maybe even her curiosity, if Sylda felt like flattering herself. “Coming out here,” she continued, “out on the open water... it kinda scared the shit out of me.”

To her surprise, Alex snorted. “And here I thought you’d be telling me something I didn’t guess the first hour out of port.”

Sylda cringed. “Was it that obvious?”

“Finn reckoned you were wound tighter than a tenday clock.”

Groaning theatrically, Sylda made a show of hanging her head. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. At least I kept all my meals down.” They shared a glance at that, and twin smiles slowly spread across their faces. Who would have thought that the image of Delver, green-faced and dramatically clinging to the rail, could actually bring people together? For a moment, Sylda almost forgot where she was. Who she was with. It was like being back in Yelen. Back in the Nest, sitting across from someone she knew. Someone she trusted. Respected, even. Someone with eyes of steel and a liberal dusting of freckles.

Someone she might just want to lean towards and...

As quickly as the feeling had taken her, Sylda remembered that everything she knew about Alex Sheffield could comfortably fit into a thimble - with her thumb already in it - and the smile drifted away. Clearing her throat, she did her best to hide her burning cheeks, turning back towards the quiet, dark ocean. The Pale. An ironic name if ever there was one. “Anyway... I heard a lot of stories. About the deep water. I’m not sure if any of them are true, but they were enough to convince me I wouldn’t let myself anywhere near it. Just in case.”

Alex turned as well, the folds of her shirt shifting softly as she leaned backwards against the rail, her weight resting on her elbows. With the stillness of the night and her head tipped slightly skyward, Sylda couldn’t help but picture Alex as a kind of statue, her sight forever set on the stars. She supposed anyone willing to sail the open water had to be a bit like that. A bit in love with things distant and unknown.

“But, despite it all, here you are,” Alex said after a moment. Her voice was suddenly soft. Thoughtful. Somehow, Sylda got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t just talking about her anymore. That was alright. It was a night for quiet contemplation, apparently. That could be nice, sometimes. Calming.

Leaning into the moment, Sylda exhaled slowly, feeling her shoulders dip. Feeling the weight of her feet pressing against the deck, of her arms on the rail. “But here I am,” she replied, then playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Fuck me, right?”

Alex snorted. Confused, Sylda turned to discern the source of her amusement, and when it hit her a half-second later, she let out suffering groan. “Oh come on. You’re better than that.”

“Am I? You’ve seen the kind of company I keep.”

It was Sylda’s turn to laugh. “Okay then, maybe not. But if we could side-step the gutter for a moment, I’d like it known to you and anyone eavesdropping nearby that I expect at least a kiss first.”

“That so?” A gentle breeze stirred - just enough to tease the curling locks framing Alex’s face - before quickly falling away again. For a second, Sylda’s words stuck in her throat, and she realised just how close they were. Just how alone they were.

Then the playful gleam in Alex’s eyes - as though she somehow knew exactly what she was doing her - tugged Sylda back to the present.

“What can I say? I’m an old fashioned kinda gal.” Sighing in mimicry of the high class ladies whose purses she liked to pluck, Sylda arched her back and mimed demurely fanning her bosom. “I require courting.”

“Really?” Alex raised a brow, her lips twisting in what Sylda quietly hoped was amusement. “With just a kiss?”

Sylda grinned and mimed tossing the fan into the sea.

“Well, I never said a lot of courting.”

Laughter seemed to carry further on still nights. It was as though, in the absence of wind, it sought to fill the sails all by itself. For the first time since leaving port, Sylda felt lighter. Not without burdens - never that light. But at least, for a few moments, she could flit and flirt and pretend it was something a person like her just got to do. Without guilt. Without worrying about all the things standing in her way. About all the ways she would inevitably fall short.

And for her part, Alex proved surprisingly open to the game. Maybe it was just because she was tired, and her walls were lower than usual. Despite her curiosity, Sylda hadn’t expected to even catch the Captain alone, yet alone rope her into a starlit conversation. After all, she knew - acutely well - how much of a time-siphon Delver could be. Particularly when his passions were piqued. It was a miracle he hadn’t shackled himself to Alex’s ankle like the ball and chain he was.

No. That's not fair. Closing her eyes, Sylda pulled in a long, slow breath. When she opened them again, Alex was regarding her quietly, her arms folded once more, her head cocked ever so slightly. Sylda knew when someone was sizing her up, but this... well, it wasn’t quite the same. A step to the left of it, perhaps, where she knew something was being measured, but she just wasn’t sure what.

“Copper for your thoughts?” Sylda asked eventually. Alex blinked, then reasserted herself, her arms unfolding as she hummed and levered herself from the rail.

“Just committing some things to memory. Don’t worry yourself over it.”

At that, it was Sylda’s turn to arch a brow. “Oh?” She reached up absently, her fingers twisting the ends of her hair as Alex smirked and headed back towards the door. Then, finally, she decided to be brave. “Well, before you head off, here’s another thing for your memory. I wouldn’t mind, ah... worrying myself.” She paused, then hastily added, “Over it. That.”

She swore she heard someone snort from somewhere in the rigging, but she was already too mortified to pay it any real heed. Well, that was smooth as fucking gravel, Sylda thought, cringing inwardly. It took everything in her power not to flip herself over the rail and into the sea. Idiot. This is why you don’t do this. This is why...

Again, maybe it was the product of weariness, or perhaps the strange stillness of the night, but Alex Sheffield, Captain of the Ranger, actually turned back. Her hand rested on the carefully carved doorknob. Her hair, untouched by wind, curled loosely at its ends.

“Well,” she said, then graced her with a quick, sly smile. One that went straight to Sylda’s knees. “Suppose I’ll go ahead and add that, too.”

#OC kiss week 21 #dskjadsjakld I APOLOGISE FOR THE LONG #this is what happens when i type directly into tumblr drafts and dont have a word count to keep me humble lol #alex sheffield #sylda #other people's ocs #reluctant writes #<3 #Frenchy-and-the-sea #sylda has a bit of a crush okay? and she is Not Coping lol #someone save her from herself

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semi-occasionally-writing-stuff · 4 years ago

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Of Bullets & Blood - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Summary

C.C. Tinsley. A preacher’s son. Now a bounty hunter who will do whatever it takes to find who killed his wife and son.

Ricky Goldsworth. A former samurai running from his past. Now a bounty hunter trying to stay honourable in a land riddled with crime.

At first glance, these men were opposites in every way. However, through betrayal, blood, corruption, and the crimes of a serial killer, they will find that they have much more in common than they first expected.

Western/Samurai AU!

Chapter 2 - The Meeting of Two Minds

C.C. Tinsley was not a patient man. If there was a job the needed to be done, he would do it straight away using the method that would guarantee his success and survival. This general rule could at times cause him to make ruthless decisions in his line of work, but this didn’t bother him much. He had abandoned his principles a long time ago.

So, when he entered the Sheriff’s office and spotted a bounty of $50 for Billy Nelson aka the Axeman, he would be a fool not to take it.

“I know that poster says dead or alive Tinsley, but I’d like to see if you’re capable of bringing a bounty in without pulling the trigger or leaving a pile of dead bodies,” Goondis drawled.

Goondis never approved of Tinsley’s methods. Although the man never broke the law, he was reckless in his eyes and did the job without an ounce of honour or respect. Turning in one too many criminals with gunshot wounds to the back of their bodies told him everything he needed to know.

“Don’t know why you’re getting all upset. You’re just going to hang the man anyway. You should be thankful that I’m saving you a job,” Tinsley answered as he pocketed the poster and walked out. He then got on his horse and rode straight for Nelson’s house, he didn’t want to give other bounty hunters any time to get there first.

Tinsley had been doing this job for 5 years. He knew that if you gave people a chance in this line of work, they’d only turn and stab you in the back. This often meant that if you wanted to see tomorrow, then it was best to act before they had the chance to think of their next move. It had built him a reputation, sometimes it helped but other times it made jobs much bloodier than they needed to be.

By the time Ricky arrived at the Sheriff’s office, Goondis was polishing his rifle with a sour look on his face.

“Get your ass to Macombe’s End and bring Nelson in. Quickly,” he grumbled as he tossed to poster to Ricky.

“Is there a problem, sir?”

“C.C. Tinsley rode off to take him in a few minutes ago. He’s been taking bounties for years, but I don’t trust the man. He’s ruthless, disrespectful and a coward. Won’t be too surprised if I find out that he’s killing all the dead or alive bounties in cold blood. I’ve never received so many with bullet holes in their backs, a real man would look them in the eye” Goondis spat.

Ricky nodded, making a mental note to watch his back when he went for Nelson. From the way the Sheriff spoke about him, he wouldn’t be too surprised if Tinsley shot him in the back just so he could be the one to take the Axeman in.

With this in mind, Ricky rode to the outskirts of Macombe’s End and slowly walked towards the house, scanning every possible ambush spot as he was expecting to be shot at any second.

Tinsley was also expecting a surprise attack of sorts but didn’t quite anticipate the swing of an axe knocking the gun out of his hand as he rounded the corner into the Axeman’s living room.

“Well, shit Nelson! You better not have scratched that! I don’t want to be paying for it using your bounty money, I have better things to spend it on,” Tinsley exclaimed, panic levels slowly rising as he saw that the man was so much bigger than him.

Nelson grabbed Tinsley by the throat and lifted him off the ground, “You won’t need to worry about that. I’m thinking about doing some redecorating. A nice decapitated head on the porch should look nice, don’t you think?”

“It’s a bit extreme, a rocking chair would look much nicer you know? But then again, I’m not too sure what the Bigfoot race use to decorate their homes or… Jesus when was the last time you washed?” Tinsley wheezed as he tried to pry his hands from his neck.

Tinsley realised that may not have been the smartest thing to say in his position, but he’d be damned if he never antagonised the killer that parted his head from his body.

“How ‘bout we take this outside?” Nelson snarled.

Tinsley barely had enough time to respond before he was thrown head first through the living room window and landed roughly on the wooden porch. Pain blossomed from his head and shoulder and then quickly spread into his neck and through his back. Hearing Nelson’s footsteps get louder, he grabbed the wooden railing and hauled himself back onto his feet.

Nelson rounded the corner with his axe wearing a snarl on his face. Before Tinsley could throw another insult, Nelson swept his axe to the side, trying to cut Tinsley’s head off from where he stood. Tinsley leapt back at the last second and watched as the axe embedded itself into the cabin’s wall, splinters flying everywhere.

Tinsley realised he needed to find a way back into the house to get his gun. He ungracefully scrambled over the railing, caught his foot at the top and fell straight into the dirt.

“Not my proudest moment,” Tinsley mumbled to himself as he started to pick himself up.

But before he could, a sharp pain exploded in his left side and he was thrown over onto his back. Tinsley’s heart dropped as he saw Nelson standing over him with a wicked smile.

“You’re right, a rocking chair with your decapitated body holding your head in your hands would look nice. Thanks for the tip,” he chuckled as he swung back his axe, but before he brought the axe down, a voice rung out.

“Turn around and fight me!” Ricky yelled as he drew his katana.

Tinsley and Nelson exchanged a confused look before he slowly lowered his axe.

“The fuck are you doing?” Tinsley yelled, completely baffled to why a man would bring a sword to an axe fight when a gun would end things so much quicker.

Ricky ignored the bearded stranger, solely focusing on the Axeman and his movements, “Get off the man, and face me. Or are you too much of a coward?”

Nelson laughed in surprise. Out of all the people he expected to turn up, he could not have imagined a man in a simple shirt and trousers holding a katana commanding him to fight.

“Alright then. Let’s jazz it!” he yelled as he stepped over Tinsley.

Now Tinsley could do the smart thing and let this crazy stranger fight Nelson, which might give him enough time to grab his gun. However, he could not push the doubt away. The man was small. To him there was a good chance that he’d be taken down before Tinsley was able to hobble his way over back into the house. Even then Tinsley didn’t want some poor fools death on his conscience.

So instead he settled on a bad idea and kicked Nelson in the nuts as he stepped over him, causing him to fall straight onto the floor. Ignoring how his body protested, Tinsley climbed on top of the man and punched him as hard as he could, feeling his nose crunch under his fist. But before he could hit him again, Nelson flipped Tinsley over onto his back, leaning over him.

“I’ve really had quite enough at this,” he spat.

Ricky shook off his surprise at how stupid Tinsley was being and quickly ran over to the pair. He made eye contact with Nelson for a split second, his eyes widening in surprise and panic, he knew he was out numbered and was growing desperate. He reached for his axe, but Ricky’s boot swiftly met the side of Nelson’s head, knocking him out instantly.

Tinsley rolled Nelson off him, sighed in relief and let his head thump against the dirt, “That was a bit theatrical, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps, nobody is dead at least…you okay friend?”

“We ain’t friends,” Tinsley drawled

Ricky sheathed his katana, “Then what are we?”

Tinsley slowly picked himself off the floor. He noted that the floor was slightly swaying beneath him, pain was still running down from his head to his shoulder, which was most certainly going to be bruised later and there was a dull ache in the side of his hip.

“I don’t know, a couple of assholes maybe?”

“Speak for yourself.”

Tinsley sighed as he walked back into the house, careful not to show any sign that he was finding it difficult to stand and walk properly. He gingerly picked up his silver revolver and leaned against the door frame, observing the stranger as he checked his gun.

“Okay. An asshole and a stuck-up prick, how ‘bout that?”

Ricky smirked; he had met too many men like him back home. They usually ended up dead, “You are trying to make me angry, but all I feel right now is a strong sense of pity. Goondis was right about you.”

Tinsley’s jaw tightened and felt a wave of anger flow through him. He could deal with pre-conceived judgements on his character, he had learned to use them to his advantage, but pity is something he had grown to despise ever since his mother passed when he was a child.

“And what was he right about?”

“You’re a cold, aggressive man without honour.”

Tinsley laughed bitterly, “Being honourable is a good way to get killed. I have folk that I need to deal with before I can lie 6 ft underground.”

“And what kind of folk would that be?”

“Bad ones. You try fighting a beast with honour and see how well you do. I guarantee you’ll have your throat ripped out before you’re even finished commanding it to fight you. Why didn’t you cut that bastard in half when you had the chance?”

“It wasn’t right to. I also didn’t want to ruin your brown coat with his blood, despite all the dirt that it’s covered in already.”

“Aww, how considerate of you. You say that to all the men?” Tinsley crooned.

Ricky blushed and tried to suppress the smile that was tugging at his lips. Instead deciding to distract himself and started to tie the axeman up.

Tinsley could tell he was new at this, naïve and filled with a sense of duty, “So sword man-”

“It’s a katana.”

“Whatever it is, frankly, I don’t really care. I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name?”

“Ricky Goldsworth. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ricky answered, crossing his arms across his chest.

Tinsley grimaced as he carefully walked from the house down to Ricky. He gripped his gun a little tighter “Likewise. So, since I was here first, I’m taking him in. You can have 15% if you beg for it.”

“I don’t beg. Take him and keep the money, I’ll come with you to make sure he is delivered alive,” Ricky exhaled, not fully convinced that Tinsley wouldn’t just shoot Nelson before he brought him to the Sheriff.

“Fine…but you’re staying at least 10 paces in front of me. I don’t feel like getting stabbed today,” he grunted as they whistled for their horses.

The ride to the Sheriff’s office was silent. Both of the men keeping an eye on one another. Expecting some sort of attack.

They tied up their horses outside and Tinsley hauled the man off his horse and onto his good shoulder.

“I’ll wait here, make sure our horses are okay” Ricky said as he got some food out of his horse’s bag.

“If you steal my horse, I will fucking shoot you Goldsworth.”

Ricky rolled his eyes, “Good to know. Stealing an Arabian horse with such skinny legs sounds like a great idea, especially when they break so easily.”

Tinsley started walking up to the Sheriff’s office, “Their legs won’t break if you don’t ride like an irresponsible maniac, makes sense that you have a Shire. Matches your reckless will to get yourself axed.”

He kicked the door open and threw Nelson down by the entrance to the cells, “You order an Axeman?”

Goondis jumped up from his chair, expecting blood to be oozing onto his floorboards and inspected the man, feeling his pulse, “He’s alive?!”

“Yes. I’ve brought you live ones before, granted the poster said they had to be to get paid.”

Goondis slowly shook his head in disbelief, “I’m not giving you the money.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t capture this man,” Goondis growled.

“What makes you say that?”

“You would’ve brought me a corpse if you had!”

“Do you want me to take him out back and shoot him? I’d happily do that for you as long as I get my $50,” Tinsley challenged.

It was quiet for a moment. Both of them staring at one another. Waiting for someone to break. After a moment Tinsley took a step forward towards Nelson and the Sheriff relented.

He took the money out of his drawer and threw it at him, “Fine. Take your damn money and get the hell out.”

“Oh, don’t be so angry Sheriff, you know you’ll have fun hanging him. I’ve seen that look in many killers’ eyes. We both know you are not the saint that you pretend to be.”

The Sheriff reminded Tinsley too much of his father who was a preacher in Texas. After his mother died, his father would wear a kind and warm façade when standing in front of God but at home he was a vengeful and angry drunk. But with the Sheriff, there was also more to it than that. Every time there was a hanging. As soon as the neck snapped. He could see a how much he enjoyed watching people die. To him, the Sheriff pretended to be a good man. He was just as bad as the people he put away.

Goondis sighed and shook his head, “I never claimed to be a saint and I certainly do not enjoy watching those poor souls die. But I do what I have to do to keep people safe and these fine folks clearly trust me since I’ve been in this position longer than you can count. It is my duty to bring people to justice. But I know that the concept of duty is lost on you since you are only motivated by the money. Now, stop running your mouth and get the hell out my office.”

Tinsley smirked and started to leave, a part of him enjoyed seeing the man trying to force him to believe the trustworthy image he projects, “You can’t fool everyone, Sheriff. The truth will come out sooner or later.”

After the door shut on the Sheriff, he let out a sigh of relief. Goondis knew what had happened to Tinsley’s wife and son. Even 5 years on there were still theories being passed around about who did it. Most people believed Tinsley had lost his temper and killed them himself. The Sheriff was inclined to agree with them. Goondis was afraid that Tinsley would use his gun as a problem solver to either end his own life or gun him down in cold blood.

Ricky had just finished brushing Tinsley’s horse as he limped down the stairs. He noticed that Tinsley was tense and had a slightly crazed look in his eye.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Perfectly fine. How’s my wonderful horse Holly doing?” Tinsley hummed as he patted the side of her face.

“She’s great. You seem to take good care of her.”

Tinsley nodded and climbed onto his saddle, “She’s the only one who’d say that.”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, “She also told me you stink of horse shit.”

“Fuck you. I hope to never see you again Goldsworth, you’re a pain in the ass.”

Ricky nodded, noting that he looked much more relaxed now, “I kind of saved your life so how about a thank you next time.”

Tinsley paused, considering his options for a moment. However, he refused to give him the satisfaction, “How ‘bout no.”

Tinsley then rode off towards own his camp in the woods. Leaving Ricky to get hit by the chunks of mud that his horse kicked behind her.

As Tinsley stoked his fire that evening. He tried to figure Goldsworth out. Every time he came across another bounty hunter after he caught the criminal, they’d try to blow his brains out and steal the bounty themselves. The fact he escorted him back to town without trying anything was suspicious. He was convinced Ricky Goldsworth was up to something and hoped he didn’t cross paths with him again.

But Tinsley had been alive long enough to know things never go the way he wanted them to.

#cc tinsley #ricky goldsworth #tinsworth #bfu

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myaekingheart · 4 years ago

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119. The Choushoku Club

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

"...And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through..." -David Bowie

Rei toyed with the fraying end of her blanket as she stared up at the ceiling, watching the moonlight shadows dance overhead. She had made peace with her promotion once and for all but unfortunately that peace was short-lived. All too soon, Rei was struck with a harrowing realization: this was only the first step in a very long adaptational process. The impending doom of step two left her restless and caught in a cold sweat she couldn’t shake. Come sunrise, she would have to face the subordinates she had mistakenly failed.

Rei wasn’t sure if she could stand the confrontation. True, she would have Yugao and Toshio steadfastly by her side but the guilt of her transgressions was all her own. No one could take on the weight of that but her.

In retrospect, Rei was incredibly embarrassed by the way she had acted. Where was her sense of decorum? Her honor and dignity? She had behaved like a whiny child, not like a captain of the ANBU. At this rate, she didn’t even deserve the title but that was another matter entirely. Still, she hated to think of the way she had been perceived by the people she was meant to lead. If they ultimately decided to abandon her, she would accept it. After everything she had put them through, it wasn’t at all a surprising possibility. They deserved better. If only she had faith in her ability to be better.

Toshio nudged her hand as he shifted on the bed, smacking his lips and licking her fingertips—a reminder to refocus. He looked back at her with his big brown eyes full of hope and promise and encouragement. “You’re right” Rei sighed, rubbing his silky ear between her thumb and forefinger. Now was not the time to dwell on the negatives. Rei could not afford any more setbacks. She needed to muster an unwavering confidence in her ability, even if it was just a façade. She needed to do what was required of her, what was necessary for the safety and success of these young recruits. Their opinions of her were secondary. Rei rested a gentle hand on Toshio’s back, right between his shoulder blades, as she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. Heaven help me.

As Rei stood in the locker room, propping her leg up on the bench to fasten her shoes, Kakashi’s mantra echoed in her brain. Those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum. A shiver ran down her spine—was she scum? She felt so. But by that criteria, so was the rest of her team. They didn’t give a single shit about one another and that was a problem. Unfortunately, it was up to Rei to remedy their apathy. Kakashi had expended so much energy into drilling the importance of teamwork into his students and now Rei needed to follow in his footsteps. She would have to take her fiancé’s words and meld them in her own hands, find a way to translate them to a new audience. Temawork above all else.

“Are you nervous?” a voice then called from around the corner. Rei’s head snapped up to find Yugao approaching.

Was she nervous? What kind of question was that? Of course she was nervous. Rei swallowed back her sarcasm and replied a nonchalant “I guess.”

Yugao chewed her lower lip, toying with the gauntlet strapped to her forearm. “You know…I’m glad you decided to stay” she said. “I’m sorry about the other day, too. I was really hard on you and I shouldn’t have been.”

Rei shook her head, trying to keep her composure. “No, really, it’s okay” she assured softly. She stuffed her civilian clothes into her locker and slammed the door shut. “I was being a selfish piece of shit. I honestly deserved everything that was said to me.” She sensed a second pair of eyes on her back and quickly scanned the locker room, paranoid, but couldn’t find the source. It was probably nothing. Her anxiety was just playing tricks on her. It was fine. Forcing a nervous laugh, Rei raked her fingers through her long bangs and added, “Besides, I’m sure nothing you said will ever be as bad as what everyone else is going to say to me after the briefing.”

Yugao pursed her lips with a minute nod. She knew all too well what they were up against. After all, Rei had failed them. She had told them all to go home, that they weren’t good enough. Yugao doubted any of them would really be happy about the situation even if Rei was trying to fix things. Not after everything she had put them through. Not after the mess she had made. But still, Yugao tried to have faith. “Just think” she said, forcing an optimistic smile, “After today, the worst part will be over. It will all be smooth sailing from here.”

Or this could be the beginning of a nightmare, Rei thought to herself but she shoved those thoughts out of her mind as quickly as they came. Sucking in a deep breath, Rei fastened her gauntlets and adjusted her vest. “I sure hope you’re right” she sighed.

From the other side of the row of lockers, a young, eavesdropping recruit smiled softly. Perhaps forgiveness was worthwhile after all. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad. She gently shut her locker and stalled for a moment before stepping out into the light, pondering the potential of her future with optimistic amethyst eyes.

Following their morning briefing, Yugao corralled everyone around a table near the back of the room. Their faces were filled with panic, uncertainty, and displeasure as they eyed Rei like a poisonous insect—the kind highly recommended to be killed on sight. Nothing she said seemed to mean a damn thing.

“And what makes you think that we’ll all come crawling back to you?” Kikkake asked sourly. “Obviously you don’t give a fuck about us. Not really. So who you are doing this for? Yourself? Your ego?”

Sukui pursed his lips and shook his head. “Really, why would we want to be on a team with a captain who has so little faith in us?” he asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Listen, I know” Rei replied, raising her hands in surrender. “I fucked up. I know I made a mistake. I never should’ve screwed you guys over. Just believe me when I say that this is for the best. I want to help you guys. You’ll never find a better captain than me. Honest.”

Kikkake rolled his eyes, displeased. “Then that speaks more for the shit show that is the black ops than on your capability to change” he spat. “Do you really expect us to believe that you are the best the ANBU has to offer?”

Rei clenched her jaw, trying to remain focused and composed. If she was going to keep this position, it was clear she was going to need to fight tooth and nail for their approval. “Okay, I’ll admit, I may not be the best of the best” she started, and Kikkake scoffed in satisfaction. “But I promise, I am the best captain for you. You’re in good hands. I’m not going to let you guys fail.”

Hitsuji chewed his lower lip, wrapping his arms tight across his chest as if in attempt to make himself smaller. “B-but you’ve already failed us once” he added, quiet and anxious. “Statistically speaking, based on projected permutations, the possibility of—”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Rei interrupted, raising a hand. Hitsuji shrunk even deeper into himself, a part of him hating himself for ever speaking up in the first place. “I know you don’t have a ton of faith in me. I’ve said I’m sorry. I’ve promised I’ll change. That’s all that anyone can ask of me.”

Arai pursed her lips, surveying her comrades stony faces and lack of faith. Rei seemed so small and pathetic like this, begging for forgiveness. There was a desperation in her eyes, something sad and pathetic and hungry. Kikkake rolled his eyes and the fear of irreparable failure burrowed even deeper into the pit of Rei’s chest. She searched the bald man’s face for even the tiniest ounce of sympathy but found none. Sukui leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and knee bent, appearing incredibly disinterested and perhaps even burdened by having to be there in the first place. After a long moment of silence, Arai stepped forward.

“Well, I think we should give her a second chance” she announced confidently.

“You what?!” Kikkake exclaimed. There was no way she could be serious.

Arai whipped around, glaring at him as she stalked forward and grabbed him by the collar of his vest. “You heard me” she snarled. “I think we should give Captain Rei another chance.”

Hitsuji’s eyes widened in panic, stammering, “B-but the statistics say—”

“Oh, fuck your statistics!” Arai shouted. “How about trying some goddamn empathy for once? Captain Rei is no different than the rest of us. She’s only human. She makes mistakes, too. If she’s willing to show us a little fucking humility, don’t you think we ought to do the same for her?” The question was far too immediate for Hitsuji’s fragile demeanor. He opened his mouth, choked on his words, then dropped his eyes to the ground in defeat.

“If you ask me” Kikkake started, swatting Arai’s grip off of his vest, “I think the black ops should show no mercy. From what I’ve seen so far, everyone’s a damn pussy. I’m surprised they even let some dumb kid lead a team in the first place!”

“Hey!” Rei interjected. “I’m twenty-six! Does this even look like the chest of a kid to you?” Here, she motioned to her breasts—despite the flattening effect of her tactical vest, it was clear by the stretch of the fabric that she was well-endowed.

Kikkake opened his mouth to rebuke but Sukui raised an index finger over his lips. “I wouldn’t answer that if I were you” he interjected and for once, Kikkake had to admit that he was right.

“Still” Kikkake glared. “Our lives are on the line. How do we know she’s not going to lead us to our deaths? I bet she wouldn’t even cry. If anything, she’d be happy to get rid of us!”

This was, surpisingly, the accusation that sent Arai over the edge. “You son of a bitch” she growled, abruptly drawing Kikkake into a headlock. “I’ll show you no mercy! Maybe you should’ve been sent home after all, huh? Maybe the black ops should show no mercy to you!”

“Alright, settle down!” Yugao implored. She lunged forward, ready to physically break the pair up. Toshio followed close behind, growling and baring his teeth. He would not hesitant to step in and help manage the altercation. “Now is not the time for in-fighting” Yugao reminded them.

“She’s right” Rei replied. She glared at the two combatants—a threat. “The first step to being successful in the black ops is working together as a team. Flexibility, resiliency, adaptation. Which means that we all need to find a way to get along. So far, you’re all failing miserably.”

“Not my fault” Kikkake muttered as Arai released him. He rolled the tension out of his neck, making note of his comrade’s iron grip.

“So how do you expect us to all start liking each other, exactly?” Sukui asked. He glanced to the others and felt his faith wavering. Kikkake was a brute, Arai was insufferable, and Hitsuji was absolutely spineless. They were doomed. It was almost even comical. Restraining light laughter then, Sukui added, “What do you expect us to do? Sit around in a circle and sing kumbaya or something?” The mere thought of it was absolutely ridiculous.

A sly smile touched Rei’s face and suddenly Sukui was filled with instant regret. “Actually, that’s exactly what I want us all to do” she affirmed. “We are going to spend the entirety of today getting to know one another.”

A collective groan swept across the room, shoulders slack and eyes rolling into the backs of heads. “It’s just like the first day of school all over again!” Hitsuji complained.

“Oh, come on!” Rei enthused, leaping forward and wrapping everyone in a vigorous group hug. The smile on her face was equal parts eager and dangerous, a sign that perhaps she was getting far more fun out of this torture than she should’ve. “This will be fun! I promise. Just be grateful that you all got a cool captain.”

If there was one thing that everyone else could agree on, it was that “cool” was the last word they would’ve used to describe this. As Rei and Yugao led everyone outside, Kikakke muttered sourly, “Yeah, if only we had gotten a sane captain.” Before he could even finish his sentence, Arai reached over and slapped him hard on the arm.

Luckily, it was a beautifully clear spring day. The air was warm and sweet, the grass soft, and in the distance echoed the sounds of children screaming with laughter. Yugao glanced to Rei, searching her face for a hint of the pain of what she had given up. Surely the wounds were still raw. Rei, however, had blocked out the sound completely. She refused to let herself think about it.

Once they had reached the large training field near the ANBU headquarters, Rei instructed everyone to sit in a big circle with her and Toshio at the very head. She surveyed the group as they took their seats and something small and unexpected tugged at her heart. Really, they made for a nice picture. Seeing them now, she saw not the chaos and helplessness from earlier in the week but rather youth and potential. She forced herself to remember this moment, to imbed the image into her memory. This was officially the start of something promising.

“So forgive my idiocy” Sukui started, “But what, exactly, is this supposed to do for us again?”

Yugao took a seat beside Rei and Toshio as she replied, “The best way to better establish teamwork is by getting to know one another. How are we supposed to work together if we’re all practically strangers?”

“We managed in Ishoku just fine” Kikkake muttered.

“Yeah, and that was fine for Ishoku” Rei countered, “But out here, it’s eat or be eaten. No mercy, remember? You can’t just get by on the skin of your teeth anymore. You need to actually put the effort in and part of that means familiarizing yourself with your comrades.”

“So you just want us to go around our big dumb circle and talk about ourselves then. Right?” Kikkake groaned. Rei nodded.

At her affirmation, Hitsuji immediately spiralled into yet another swirl of panic. He didn’t know how to do this sort of thing—talk about himself and socialize. Part of the reason he had joined the black ops in the first place was because he thought it would mean avoiding exactly that. Unfortunately, he was sorely mistaken. The importance of teamwork made perfect sense to him now, but he felt like an idiot for never considering it sooner. But if he had to do this—and he did—he needed a plan. Hitsuji awkwardly raised his hand like he was back in the academy all over again, asking, “What are we supposed to say?”

Rei shrugged. “I mean, the usual, I guess” she replied. “Things you like, things you hate, dreams for the future, hobbies. All of that good shit.”

Arai nodded slowly before commenting, “Why don’t you go first, boss? Set an example and show us how it’s supposed to be done.”

Rei blinked. Were they really so stupid that they didn’t know how to introduce themselves? She eyed Arai skeptically but found nothing but ingenuity, which unfortunately only made Rei that much more suspicious. What was she trying to pull here? Rei knew letting herself be vulnerable in front of her the other day was a bad choice, but what else could she do? The only option was to level with her, even if that put her at a disadvantage now. She hated to think of what kinds of things this girl was plotting with the information she had been given. But then again, she had been so defensive and supportive the entire morning. The shift was strange to say the least.

“Alright” Rei sucked in a deep breath, raked her fingers back through her bangs. “My name is Rei Natsuki, codename Aisuru, and I’ve been in the ANBU for about six years. Things I like and things I hate? Not important. Hobbies? Too many to count. Dreams for the future? Not really any of your business.”

It’s no wonder she and Kakashi get along so well, Yugao thought to herself. She remembered the day she joined Kakashi’s team so many years ago, his introduction ringing much the same. In Rei’s tone, however, there was a certain sharpness. A bitter defense dripped from that last sentence, especially. Clearly Yugao was correct in assuming that the sting of her abandoned motherhood was still fresh and painful. Her heart hurt for her. Rei had truly given up so much.

Before anyone else had the chance to comment or criticize, Yugao stepped up to the plate. “I’m Yugao Uzuki, codename Kasha, and I’ve been in the ANBU for about twelve years. I like cats and watching the moon, my favorite food is tsukimi dango, and my dream for the future is just peace and happiness.”

Yugao’s response was so pure and thoughtful, it seemed to wash away any reservations that Rei’s response, in contrast, may have forged. Her willingness to be open and optimistic among the others put the whole group at ease and filled the new recruits with an inexplicable sense of light and security. It was almost as if Yugao was a kindergarten teacher currying favor to her new, anxious little students. Much like the moon itself, she had a way of making others feel safe and seen in the dark.

To her right, Kikkake cracked his knuckles and opened his mouth to speak. After all, it was his turn, wasn’t it? Before he could make a sound, however, Toshio barked a happy interruption. Kikkake paused, staring dumbfounded at the dog, before meeting Rei’s unapologetic gaze.

“The dog goes first” she grinned.

It took a long moment for Kikkake to comprehend what she was saying. “Y-you mean..you’re telling me I’m getting stonewalled by a dog?!” he finally shouted. He glanced to the others in hopes that they would find this just as ridiculous as he did but alas, they seemed perfectly unaffected. Digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, Kikkake complained, “Come on! Where’s the manger?!”

Toshio, offended by the uproar, growled in Kikkake’s direction. Rei rested a tender hand upon his back to calm him, serving a reminder that “He is a member of this team, too, you know.”

Arai couldn’t help but smirk at all the chaos. Nothing amused her more than watching Kikkake lose his mind. And to think, this time it wasn’t even her fault. She and Sukui exchanged amused glances, finding a common interest, before Hitsuji leaned in and whispered, “What does a manger have to do with anything?” The other two shrugged, clueless.

Overhearing the confusion, a little light sparked in the pit of Rei’s chest. It was so rare that she was able to use her literary knowledge in a context like this. Leaning forward, she answered, “The Dog in the Manger. It’s an old fable.”

“But what does that have to do with anything?” Sukui asked back. It was clear by the look on his face that he was not a big reader. Unless, of course, it was Icha Icha, that is.

“It’s allegorical” Rei began. “As the story goes, there’s a dog lying in a manger who refuses to let a horse take what he’s not even using. The interpretation was loose but, I mean, hey, A for effort.” The others shrugged and nodded. Who were they to judge? They didn’t even know the story to begin with.

Kikkake was beginning to lose his cool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was the book club” he complained. “Can we get a move on already? We’re wasting time!” Toshio barked yet again, perhaps the only thing he and Kikkake could agree on, and Rei urged the dog to begin his own little introduction.

Leaping to his feet, Toshio barked and spun in circles, chasing his tail and bowing playfully. He was adorable, there was no doubt about that, but it was also strange to think that he was trying to communicate something to them at all. Once he had finished and sat back down beside his master, the recruits all looked to one another in amused confusion.

“So, Captain Rei, um…care to translate?” Sukui asked.

Rei pursed her lips and nodded slowly, turning to Toshio who in turn gave an approving little bark. After all, what was the point of introducing himself at all if the others couldn’t understand him? It wasn’t his fault they never learned to speak dog. “Alright, so basically” Rei sighed, “he said his name is Toshio and he likes long walks, big sticks, and licking people’s feet. And that if anyone so much as dares to cross his master, he will rip your gut open and play tug-of-war with your intestines.” What was once playful confusion had now transformed into uncomfortable horror as everyone slowly turned their gaze yet again to the dog. Toshio, in contrast, seemed perfectly content—if not even amused. He barked in concurrence as he rolled onto his back, begging for belly rubs, his big spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth. There was no way a dog this goofy could ever be so threatening.

“And we’re really supposed to believe he said all that?” Kikkake asked, unconvinced. At the slightest insinuation, Toshio went rigid and bared his teeth, proving that he was perhaps serious after all.

“I believe him” Hitsuji whispered. He sniffled as he wiped his running nose with the back of his hand. Utterly bothered, Kikkake swatted him away and tried to compose himself.

“Alright, fine, whatever” the bald man groaned. “Now let me fucking speak.” Arai rolled her eyes, leaning back boredly as she half-listened to his spiel. “Kikkake. 25. I like my space and I dislike people who invade my space. And I really dislike people who can’t keep their damn head on straight.” Here, he glanced to the others and frowned.

Hitsuji, feeling personally attacked, drew his knees up to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible. Rei’s eyes landed on him, a soft smile touching her lips. She felt sorry for him, really. He was probably the least fit for the black ops out of all of them but there had to be something that made him worthy of being here. Sympathetic, Rei motioned toward him. “Your turn.”

“Ah, oh god, okay” Hitsuji started. He shifted, trying to make himself seem more confident than he obviously was. “M-my name is Hitsuji Akado b-but I prefer the codename Chishiki. I’m 22 years old and I like math and science. My father is an accountant and I have a twin sister named Hiretsuna. A-and I’m also…t-terrified of dogs.” Toshio’s eyes darted to the poor boy and Hitsuji clutched his hands to his chest, eyes wide and heart racing. After a moment, he gasped and sneezed into the crook of his elbow, adding groggily, “I’m also highly allergic.”

Rei frowned as she scratched under Toshio’s chin. “Well, I can’t really do anything about the allergies” she replied, “But I guarantee Toshio would never hurt anyone in his pack. You’re in good hands.” In reply, Toshio gave a quick bark before rubbing his back enthusiastically against the ground. A cloud of hair flew up around him as he went.

Hitsuji wasn’t sure how comforting he found this, but he at least appreciated the effort. Before they continued onto the next introduction, however, Yugao paused and asked, “Wait a second, what did you say your sister’s name was again?”

Nodding, Hitsuji replied, “Hiretsuna. She, uh…she works at the hospital.”

A look of understanding crossed Rei’s face as a wide grin touched her lips. “I thought her name sounded familiar!” she exclaimed. “Brown hair, blue eyes, works reception, right?”

Hitsuji nodded. “That would be her.”

Rei chuckled softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Damn, I never would’ve guessed” she said. “I mean, you’re twins, yeah, but you’re both so…different.” Hiretsuna was truly a sweet girl—after all, she was always so kind to Sekkachi on her frequent doctor’s visits—but her head was undoubtedly full of hot air.

Chuckling anxiously, Hitsuji replied, “She got the beauty, and I got the brains.”

Yugao shifted in her spot to get more comfortable as she replied, “Well, I’m sure your brains will come in handy on our team.” Hitsuji’s cheeks immediately burned red as he dropped his gaze and tried to remain composed. It was clear to Yugao that he was definitely going to be the type that benefits greatly from positive reinforcement. He needed the reassurance that he was not only welcome here but that he belonged here. That he was capable and a valuable asset to the team. Hitsuji’s gratefulness was almost palpable.

Yugao then slowly turned her gaze to Sukui, who had since laid down in the grass and was staring up at the wispy clouds overhead. It was as if he was in a daze, lost in his own daydreams. Rei waited only a moment longer before clearing her throat. “Yo, pretty boy. It’s your turn” she jested.

Blinking, Sukui’s stupor faded and he immediately bolted upright. His eyes seemed brighter than ever before. “Finally!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair before winking and shooting his index finger in Rei’s direction. “I am Sukui Yukio, codename Kishi! 22 years old, Leo, blood type AB. I like beautiful women and making others happy, and I dislike brutes and pushovers—” here, he glared to Kikkake and Hitsuji respectively. “My hobbies are serenading prospective dates and reading Icha Icha novels! Which, by the way, have I ever mentioned that people tell me I am the spitting image of—”

“Keihaku Goman. Yes, we are aware” Rei interrupted. The memory of her bizarre little one-off date with the man sent shivers down her spine. If she was lucky, she would never have to hear the name Keihaku Goman ever again.

Hitsuji withdrew even further into himself, muttering, “I-I’m not a pushover”—more to himself than anything else—before he was interrupted by yet another sneeze.

Kikkake, rolling his eyes, replied, “Yes you are.”

“As if you’re not some bald-headed brute” Arai joked, reaching around to poke Kikkake teasingly in the shoulder. Kikkake gritted his teeth, prepared to counterattack, but it was Arai’s turn to speak now and she wasn’t going to let anyone infringe on her moment. She locked eyes with Rei from across the circle and in those amethyst eyes, there was something different—something almost reassuring and uplifting. Before Rei could analyze it further, however, Kikkake attempted to rebuke but Arai slapped her hand over his mouth with a sly, satisfied grin. The strange softness in her gaze had vanished as quickly as it came. “The name’s Arai Kawakubo, but you can call me Dokyou. I’m 23 and I like boxing and sewing, even if I suck balls at it. I have an older sister and my grandma owns a clothing shop in the village. I dislike assholes and I especially dislike people who don’t know when to shut the fuck up.” Here, she grinned at Kikkake, sickeningly sweet. Another sharp jab at his unpleasant personality. Clenching his fists was all he could do to keep from pummeling her into the ground. She removed her hand from his mouth once she was finished, sitting up straight and proud.

Kikkake wiped his mouth on the back of his hand in an attempt to rid himself of her as he groaned, “Why are you the way that you are?” Arai tilted her head as she looked at him, urging him to elaborate. “What is it? Do you get off on throwing people under the bus?”

“You know” Sukui said with a flourish of his hand, “Brutal honesty is actually quite attractive in a woman!” Here, he arched a brow and smirked to further enforce his point.

Arai shot him a sharp glare, muttering under her breath, “Shut up, sweetie, this isn’t your fight” before locking eyes with Kikkake. “And why do you always have to get so offended by every little thing? Hmm?” she countered. “Why is every comment somehow a personal attack on you? Are you really that oversensitive, Mr. Big Shot?”

“First it’s my head, now it’s my self esteem” Kikkake muttered through clenched teeth. “Are there no boundaries to what you will pick apart?”

The conflict had meanwhile clearly triggered yet another wave of panic in poor Hitsuji. “P-please…stop fighting” he whimpered, recoiling. The probability of people breaking out weapons was surely at least 64% and if kunai were going to fly, he did not want to be in the proposed line of fire.

Tensions were mounting and Rei knew that if she did not do something soon, things were bound to spiral out of control. She glanced to Yugao in concern for a moment and was met with a single nod of approval. They both knew what must be done. If these kids were ever going to behave themselves, they needed discipline. The only one worthy of administering it was Rei.

Sucking in a deep breath, Rei rose to her feet and stepped into the center of the circle. Toshio finally rolled upright, watching with focused intent. This was about to get good. Bracing himself for the chaos, Hitsuji swallowed hard as he studied her every move. With fists clenched, Rei closed her eyes and focused all of her chakra. She envisioned kneading it like dough, forming it into a condensed ball with mass and weight. She felt the lump rising higher into the back of her throat. Then, snapping her eyes open, she launched a massive bullet of chakra-infused water straight into the fray. The bubble exploded on impact, soaking Arai, Kikkake, and Sukui in the process. They all fell silent as Rei grinned down at them in condescension.

“Ugh, absolutely disgusting!” Sukui whined, shaking the water from his clothes. “Why did I have to get hit? I had nothing to do with this!”

Rei shrugged, joking, “If you can’t handle the water, stay out of the pool.”

Arai shook her choppy hair dry like a dog, smoothing her short bangs back with a comical grin. “So you’re a water style user then, huh?” she asked, pleased with this new discovery.

“Primarily, but being a part of the ANBU also means you need to hone in on other chakra natures, too” Rei rose an informative finger in the air as she turned on her heel. “And it’s also important to know the chakra natures and other strengths of everyone on your team so that we can coordinate our attacks perfectly. There is no room for error.”

Scooting nearer, Hitsuji made a quiet little hand sign before a jolt of wind whipped against Arai, Kikkake, and Sukui, drying them instantly. Taken aback, Arai whipped around to face him but where he expected to find malice, he was instead met with an impressed smile. Hitsuji blushed and dropped his eyes, murmuring, “Sometimes it’s helpful.”

“I’ll say” Arai smirked, slapping him proudly on the back. Leaning across the circle, she then looked to Kikkake and mused, “Let me guess: you’re an earth style user, aren’t you?”

Unfortunately, Kikakke could not hide his initial surprise. His wide eyes and gaping mouth, much like a dead fish, were enough to sate Arai’s destructive cravings for the rest of the day. After the shock had worn off, he furrowed his brows and crossed his arms like a whiny child. “Yeah, and what of it?” he asked.

Shrugging, Arai leaned back on her elbows and replied, “It’s easy to tell. You’re stubborn as a rock but sensitive as soil. One thing goes wrong and you’re killing every plant in the area.”

That was actually a very clever way to put things—accurate but easy to understand. Rei had to admit, she was impressed. Skills like that were far more advanced than that of any regular rookie. “Where’d you learn to interpret chakra natures like that?” she asked, leaning forward in intrigue.

The only one Rei had ever known to have any semblance of knowledge on the subject was Grandma Teiko. Tucked away in one of her old books was a chart, the paper soft and print fading from years of use. On it was both the wheel of basic chakra natures as well as the way in which each chakra nature can combine to create new elemental subsidiaries. At the very bottom was a detailed list of telltale traits for each user—indeliable information for espionage, no doubt. In the middle of the night, when her life had begun falling apart, Rei would carefully tug that page out of Grandma Teiko’s book and read the description for lightning style users over and over again until the words became foreign and numb. To this day, she still had the excerpt memorized: Sharp and focused, hard to read. Concentrated, cold, unyielding, unpredictable. She thought of Kakashi and a shiver raced down her spine. She had refused to believe the accuracy of such a statement. There was no way that any of that was true of Kakashi, or at least not the Kakashi that she knew. Over time, she would come to discover the unfortunate ounce of truth within that analysis but where lightning was seemingly apathetic and condensed—a manifestation of concentrated, aimless rage—it was also unexpectedly nourishing and protective. It lit fires from long distances, sudden and prophetic, and could strike down enemies in one fatal blow. A shock of anger, yes, but also orgasmic, unhindered joy.

Arai sucked her teeth, digging her toe into the dirt. “My grandma used to have this book that talked about chakra nature and the personality” she explained and in the back of Rei’s mind was a ring of familiarity. “I don’t know where she got it form or where it went, but I used to look at it a lot when I was a little kid. I liked trying to figure out which of my friends had what chakra natures. The psychoanalysis of it was kind of fun.”

A jolt of something struck Rei in the chest, overwhelming and bizarre. Like a punch to the soul, separating her from her body. The tattoo on her forearm stung. In the back of her mind, a voice told her kindred spirit. None of it made any sense, though. It was stupid. She gripped at a patch of Toshio’s thick fur to anchor her, sucking in a sharp breath. Before she could spiral further, Sukui excitedly interjected and recentered the focus.

“Ooh, try me!” he shouted, raising a hand. “What chakra nature do you think I have?”

Cocking a brow, Arai leaned back as she stared at him. “Water” she said bluntly. “You’re bubbly, charismatic, and fluid. You have a nice voice and can be a little, um…much.”

Sukui’s eyes widened, looking to the others in delight. “Oh, she’s good!” he exclaimed. He then turn his attention to Yugao, exclaiming, “Try her next!”

Arai furrowed her brows in concentration. “She’s harder to pinpoint” she muttered. “I don’t really see her as much of an elemental user to begin with, but more of a yin/yang release type. Based on her clear connection to the moon, however, and her sensory abilities, I’d say she’s naturally a water type but hones more of her skills into other forms of ninjutsu and swordplay.”

A small, satisfied grin touched Yugao’s lips. “You’re very perceptive” she replied. Arai’s analysis was surprisingly approximate. Her identification abilities would certainly come in handy in the future. “So what about you?” she then asked, motioning toward the blonde across the circle. “We know everyone else’s chakra natures now but yours.”

Just as Arai went to open her mouth, Rei spoke for her. “Lightning” she said bluntly. She still clung to that tuft of Toshio’s hair. Her mossy eyes remained locked on the ground, her jaw tense. “My guess is lightning.”

Yugao blinked, turning to her captain. “How do you know?”

“Arai is sharp, quick, tactile. Every blow is concentrated and aimless” Rei explained. She knew lightning style all too well—as she should. She saw the same fire, the same cold and unyielding determination, in Arai’s eyes as she had in Kakashi when she first joined the ANBU. Her rage was chaotic, specific, strong.

Dumbfounded, Yugao turned to Arai to find that she was just as taken aback as the rest of them were. “Well?” Yugao asked slowly, quietly. “Was she right?”

Arai fought an incredulous little laugh as she leaned her forearms onto her folded knees and nodded slowly. “Yeah” she said. “Yeah, she was.”

A long stretch of silence encumbered the group then, uneasy and strange. There was a sense of anxiety in Rei’s eyes now and Yugao knew this mustn’t be a good sign. Don’t give out on me, she begged in the back of her mind. Not this time. Not now. We made a commitment, remember? Do not give up.

Rei tried to regain her composure but her mind kept sticking on one nagging point of contention: where did Arai’s grandmother get that book? Was it something that all the elders of Konoha had? An ancient relic from a bygone educational era? Perhaps. Or perhaps Grandma Teiko simply acquired hers from a former shinobi—Kaminoki did acquire a fair amount of used books for resale each year. They were always tossed aside on a rickety corner shelf and sold for a hefty discounted price. Rei’s father never could find the strength to ask full-price for books with broken spines and dogeared pages, books with life and history. Either way, it was not important. So what if they had the exact same book with the exact same diagram in it? None of it mattered. Rei forced the thoughts squarely out of her mind. This was exactly the kind of distraction she did not want to let ruin her today.

“Well” Yugao smiled to the group. “Now that we all know each other’s chakra natures, we can better strengthen our teamwork and make sure our attacks are especially strong.”

“Wait a second, Lieutenant Yugao” Sukui interrupted. “Now, I’m not fond of correcting a lady” he continued, and Arai rolled her eyes and fake-gagged, “but I’m afraid you’re not entirely correct!”

“Oh?” Yugao asked, arching a brow. Rei’s gaze snapped up from the ground, searching Sukui’s face for panic or pain. The prospect of something being wrong only further amped up her anxiety.

Nodding, Sukui replied, “We don’t know everyone’s chakra nature yet!”

Rei’s eyes widened as she surveyed the circle, trying to figure out who they had missed. She recited each verdict in her head as she went: water for Yugao, earth for Kikkake, Hitsuji is wind, Sukui water, and lighting for Arai. “Who did we leave out?” she asked.

A wide, childish grin touched Sukui’s face as he tried to restrain his laughter. “The dog!” he exclaimed, falling back and letting himself succumb to the pleasure of his own joke.

Toshio leapt to his feet and barked happily, spinning in circles. The idea was so ridiculous, Rei couldn’t help but crack a smile herself. All of the anxiety that had built up inside of her began to vanish.

Tapping her chin, Arai smirked and mused, “I’d say he’s a water-style user. I mean, have you seen the slobber on that tongue? Disgusting!” She said this with no malevolence toward the dog, however. Rather, she fought an amused giggle as Toshio jumped toward her and swiped his spotted tongue right across her face, drenching her in spit. She cringed, though clearly stil in good spirits, and wiped the residue away with the back of her hand as she affirmed, “Yep, absolutely disgusting.”

Patting her thigh, Rei beckoned her loyal mutt back to her side and chuckled, “Why do you think him and I work so well together?”

“You have a good point” Yugao jested. She, too, reached over to scratch Toshio affectionately behind the ear. It was nice to see that he was finally taking to the group.

A small, shy smile touched Hitsuji’s lips as he watched the interaction unfold. “I guess he isn’t so bad” he mused quietly. Though big and clunky, perhaps Rei was right about Toshio: perhaps he truly wouldn’t hurt anyone within his pack—or in this case, their black ops team. Hitsuji wanted to believe that the dog’s affectionate side was reinforcement that they were all in good hands; he wanted to believe that there was nothing to worry about. It would still take him some time to warm up to Toshio completely, but the thought that he was not very bad at all was at least a step in the right direction.

In response, Toshio grinned and barked once more, though kept his distance as if he could sense Hitsuji’s anxiety. And really, he could. He knew the poor boy was terrified and despite Toshio being slightly, instinctively pleased with that, he also knew that he needed to try to make this boy comfortable among him. Rei’s success depended on it and he was not about to hinder the progression of her career. She deserved nothing but good things and if he could help move that along then by god, he was going to.

By sundown, Rei’s anxiety had drastically depleted. Their little kumbaya circle had done some good, it seemed, after all. What was once a group of disinterested misfits had soon transformed into a team of hope and growing camaraderie. There was still more work to be done but a solid foundation had been laid. They all knew each other a little better now, saw each other a little more clearly and had a greater appreciation and understanding for those they would have to call friends.

And really, the breakthrough was necessary. Rei had quickly discovered that she was not the only one at fault. She was not the only one seeing this team how she wanted to see them, in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. She never cared to know them and they never cared to know one another. If sitting in a circle under the bright spring sun was what it took to break down each of their walls, then so be it. The results were worth all of the drudgery.

Upon returning home, Rei haphazardly peeled a little mikan from their humble fruit bowl—tossing a wedge to Toshio as a consolation prize—before humming along to the clank of dirty dishes in the sink. The setting sunlight filled the room with a warm, hazy glow, catching on the surface of the soap suds in a translucent rainbow. For the first time in a long time, everything was light and peace. Maybe this was where she was meant to be, after all.

By the time Rei was elbows-deep in soap and halfway through the dishes, Toshio leapt to his feet and began barking and leaping wildly. The key turned in the lock and the front door creaked open. Kakashi. A jolt of excitement struck Rei at the sight of him and she immediately rushed to pull him into a strong embrace. She couldn’t care less if she soaked his vest.

“Oh?” he chuckled, setting his supplies on the table as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “What’s all of this about? Did you have a bad day?”

“No” Rei shook her head. “I just missed you.” The smile tugging at her lips was oddly suspicious but if she was happy, then who was Kakashi to judge? If anything, her joy was a relief after the overwhelming anxiety of the past few weeks.

“So how did things go today?” he asked, brushing the bangs back out of her face. “How were the new recruits?”

“Actually…” Rei started, “It wasn’t that bad.” The more she thought about it, the more Rei realized that perhaps she even enjoyed their chaotic company. They made her feel young again. They reminded her of a simpler time, back before the black ops had made her distant and serious. A time in which she was not plagued by fear, uncertainty, and the numbing pain of difficult choices. Kakashi, delighted to hear that things were going well, cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead tenderly. A small smile touched Rei’s lips as she added softly, “You know, I think they’re really starting to grow on me.”

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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jencsi · 5 years ago

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She paces, walking the same pattern, up and down the shiny tile floor outside the double doors to the cordoned off area, separating patients and doctors from family and visitors. She chews her thumb, skin and nail, any spot that’s not covered in dirt.

He sits and she doesn’t understand how he can. She feels his eyes on her as she paces, rhythmic, up and down. She rubs her eyes, again, avoiding any part of her hand that is caked with dirt and soil. He sees it on her clothes and in her hair but she couldn’t care less right now. None of them could.

“What’s taking so long?” she moans, hoarse, voice filled with exhaustion.

“He needs to be checked out,” Grissom explains softly, knowing there will be tests, treatments, medications, pain management.

“I want to see him now” she complains, stopping in her pacing to stare at him, begging him to make that happen, and he wants to, lord knows he wants to make that happen for her, to give her whatever she wants, that’s what he’s good at. But he can’t make this happen for her, it’s beyond his control. She stares, searching his eyes for clarification, a handle on the moment but she can’t find one.

All he can do is pat the empty chair beside him with his hand, silently encouraging her to sit. Begrudgingly, she lets her feet shuffle over to him and she collapses into it. Her leg bounces up and down, and he places his hand on her knee to settle her, an unlikely feat in this moment.

When he sees her fidget in her seat, the leg bouncing, the nail biting, he’s reminded of her as a child, how many times he had to tell her “Be still” always soft, always gentle, not wanting to stifle her energy but rather use it when the time was right; the playground, the backyard, not in her seat at the dinner table, not during school, nor when he brought her with him to one of his lectures. She liked to sit at his desk and be the boss, to pretend to take notes, to answer a secret question he posed to his class that only she knew the answer to, making her feel like she outsmarted an entire college class at age seven. That’s my girl.

“He’s gonna be okay right?” her raspy voice bumps him back to reality now.

“Yes,” he answers her without thinking, without hesitation, he cannot lie to her and even though Nick's injuries and trauma will be painful, they both know he can heal, recover, come back to them.

She stops bouncing her leg to curl them up and sit cross legged in the chair, leaning to one side, wanting to rest but afraid to close her eyes and miss being there for Nick when they finally allow her to. She allows herself to lay her head on his awaiting shoulder, sniffling, picking at the fabric of his shirt, grateful for the comfort in this moment, and of others in the past.

He’s relieved that she’s settling at last. Her mood sans sleep is like that of a toddler; cranky, unhinged, argumentative. He cannot complain about this trait lingering into her adult life. It keeps him humble and makes his life worth living.

The double doors swing open and she startles herself awake, leaping up from her seat on unsteady legs.

“He’s stable,” the doctor explains “in some pain but we neutralized the poison from the bites so he should be feeling better soon, his oxygen levels are returning to normal but he’s groggy, he’s asking for you both.”

“Thank you,” Finn sighs with relief as the doctor holds the door open for them to enter.

The doctor leads them to a private room and allows them to enter. When she sees Nick laying somewhat slouched in the bed, surrounded by blankets, arms bandaged, it takes every ounce of her willpower not to fling herself on him and shower him with kisses and love she so desperately wants to give.

Instead she hovers, unsure how to approach him, unsure what to even say. It’s as if she forgot how to be with him, forgot how to speak. She feels Grissom nudge her gently on her back, encouraging her to step forward and be closer to him. For as much as she insisted she wanted to see Nick back in the waiting room, now she hesitates, she’s scared.

Nick's eyes are closed but he opens them when he hears the door to his room open. When his eyes land on Grissom and Finn, he feels relief but also an overwhelming sense of panic because he knows they must be worried. The way she’s holding her arms in against her chest tells him so. Even Grissom stares in a different way. They know what he’s been through and they don’t know what to say. He can’t really blame them.

“Hey,” he murmurs, breaking the silence first.

“Hey,” she whimpers back to him, swaying on the spot.

“Gris,” Nick acknowledges his boss.

“How are you feeling Nicky?” Grissom dares to ask first.

“Like hell,” Nick confesses and Finn whimpers again, stepping closer to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs to him, “I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you faster, but the money and Gordon and the explosion, he was awful Nicky.”

“I’ll say,” he sums up his short time with the kidnapper prior to the burial and what he learned of the situation via the doctors.

Finn wails in anguish and Nick lifts his bandages arms, motioning for her to come to him. She shakes her head, mumbling “Don’t want to hurt you”

“You can’t,” Nick insists “not ever baby”

And somehow that’s enough. It’s all she needs to climb slowly into the bed and lay her body next to him. He lowers his sore arms to rest around her, it’s magical. She sniffles harder, burying her face in his chest, praying she doesn’t add to his pain. He doesn’t flinch or complain, he’s just happy to have her soft and tender skin close to him again. What a welcome relief.

They both forget about Grissom for the few minutes of bliss they share at being reunited. He pulls up a chair to sit by the bed as Finn dozes instantly, the day’s events rattling her to the core. Nick sighs and rests his chin on her warm forehead.

Grissom watches over them, wanting to say something but finding himself unable to find the right words.

“How long have you known?” Nick asks now, peering at Grissom.

“Couple weeks,” he murmurs, “but she didn’t tell me, I just, noticed, at the diner, in the hallway at the lab, in front of your car in the parking lot, happenstance.”

Nick smirks, to his relief, pulling Finn closer to him.

“I approve,” Grissom assures him “not like she would listen to me anyway if I didn’t.”

“Yeah she’s good at that,” Nick says “for the record, we were going to tell you, she just likes our privacy.”

“When did she tell you about me?” Grissom asks now.

“She didn’t,” Nick said “you’re not the only one who can read people around the lab.”

It’s Grissom’s turn to smirk, impressed with Nick's detective work.

There’s mutual understanding between the two over the one thing they both love, who is sound asleep, curled up at peace.

“It was her,” Nick says now “don’t get me wrong, I love you guys and the lab, but it was her, thinking about her stopped me from pulling that trigger.”

Because he knows they all saw what he was going to do, in his darkest moment, his desperate search for relief, stopped by her face, her eyes, her smile, her hair, her laugh, it all flooded his subconscious and burst through that darkness to beat those bad thoughts out of his head. She had that power over him. Everything he knew about love resides in her eyes, in her love. Even now, with her hands curled up against his chest, her head on his shoulder, the scent of her familiar shampoo still lingering despite the dirt that caked her scalp, she was the perfect distraction.

“Thanks for keeping her sane,” Nick tells Grissom.

“No problem,” Grissom says, as if controlling the sun, full of rage and passion was easy. He had been doing it for years, he knew the routine, and the risks. Lucky for them both, all was fair in love, and it was all worth it.

Follow up to this - https://jencsi.tumblr.com/post/189964060994/i-did-a-sort-of-good-but-mostly-very-bad-and

#julie finlay #nick stokes #gil grissom #grave danger #grave danger au

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aingealcethlenn-archive · 5 years ago

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Finding Home - Chapter 1

Word Count - 1717

Join Series Tag List - HERE - Series Master list

Tags - @lilulo-12

A/N - HERE

Intro

Ch. 1

1982 I was born in the early parts of 1982 in Russia. My family was indebted to Hydra - or, more specifically, Wolfgang von Strucker. The Leader of Hydra.

Because of this debt, von Strucker took me. He brought me to his home and raised me for the first five years of my life.

Though I didn’t realize it at the time, for obvious reasons, this was when my programming began. It was small, simple, but it was training nonetheless. Learning to recognize multiple languages, able to speak three by the time I was four years of age. Praising only Hydra and it’s work, only allowing approved literature inside the home, minor things most would overlook.

1987 Once I reached the age of five, von Strucker passed me off to another one of his agents. A Russian soldier by the name of Ivan Petrovitch.

Ivan had another young girl, only about two years younger than myself, that he was raising.

Natalia Romanova became like a sister to me. I watched over her. I protected her. She may not have known it at the time, but I recognized, from very early on, we were all we had.

Petrovitch continued with my training and early education, alongside Natalia’s. Before long, I was speaking fluently in seven different languages, and able to understand dozens of others through speech and text.

We were taught the basics, reading, and writing, but we also learned so much more. Through the years, as we got to certain ages, Ivan made sure that we were capable of wielding small weapons. Knives, daggers, I was even taught the proper way to handle and shoot a small nine-millimeter Glock handgun.

I knew there must be something to our form of learning, something different from that of typical children. Surely it wasn’t common practice for a child under the age of ten to know so much about weapons, language, how to defend yourself, or even how to kill another human being - right?

Not only did I have our regular learning throughout the day with Natalia, but I also was taken each night for more, I suppose you would call them classes, at some strange facility run by Hydra. While here, my training was focused on more specific things - stealth, marksmanship, hand to hand combat. Yes, I was young, but my size and innocence only worked to my advantage in most cases.

1992 At ten years of age, von Strucker informed me that I was going to be starting school.

Having heard Strucker and Petrovitch talking in the past, I knew I was never going to be an average child. They were grooming me to be something else.

I had it in my head that I was not only going to be whatever they intended me to be, I was going to surpass their expectations, I would be better.

1994 For two years, I had been without my sister. I hadn’t seen her since the day Strucker took me from home and dropped me off at the god awful academy. When Natalia walked through the doors with Petrovitch, I felt a short-lived sense of relief, that was quickly replaced by grief.

I'm not sure what I expected to happen to Natalia while I was gone, don't get me wrong, our 'home' life wasn't rough, not by any means. We were as 'typical' as we could be, even with all the extra training, but still, a part of me hoped for something more for her - something that resembled a 'normal' life.

Throughout the following years, I helped Natalia, working with her, any chance I could.

Though our schedules didn’t leave much ‘free time.’ I made sure she knew the importance of the training, the importance of being the best at what we did. We would skip meals on occasion, or stay awake after lights out. Though we couldn’t leave our beds, we made do how we could.

Natalia and I were inseparable when the opportunity presented — trying to offer any ounce of normalcy that we could into our lives.

What I didn’t realize was that they were conditioning me even further for my future — forming me into what Strucker wanted most. Implanting trigger words to all but guarantee he got what he sought after.

2000 I was at the top of my class. The best that the Red Room had ever had pass through its doors.

Strucker had a goal in mind, though. I was to be more. Much more. I understood that, then.

After my ‘graduation’ ceremony was complete, von Strucker sent me to a new location.

Siberia.

Little did I know that would be the last time I would see my sister until many years later.

2002 I had been a Winter Soldier for two years. The only other successful soldier created under Hydra. My training was complete. I was the very best that Hydra had.

I was the perfect creation, according to Strucker. Strength beyond measure. Impeccable eyesight - making the task of being a sniper that much easier.

I surpassed the original Winter Soldier early on and continued to get better as training progressed. There was now no one on the planet better than I.

The soldier was now my ‘partner’ as it were. We would go on undercover missions together, acting as cover for each other when needed. They knew we would take care of each other. Make sure we both returned unscathed.

2009 Nine years had passed since I became the perfect weapon for Hydra.

Following the soldier on what I thought was just another mission, we were sent after a scientist.

There was never a reason given, just an expected result required. “Убей ученого. Не оставляйте свидетелей. (Kill the scientist. Do not leave witnesses.)” That was all the instruction we needed.

After shooting out the tires of the vehicle they were driving, we watched as they lost control and went over the cliff. The task was never complete until we could confirm the death.

As we were scanning the wreckage, we saw the companion pulling the lifeless body of the mission from the vehicle; we realized this would be more difficult than initially imagined. He had help. That was when I saw it was no ordinary companion that was accompanying the man.

Time slowed, the soldier lined up his shot, ready to pull the trigger to take out both of the people below.

“Солдат! Нет! (Soldier! No!)” I called out. Nudging the weapon enough that he missed the shot he wanted.

I watched as both figures below fell to the ground.

She was doing her job and had been covering the scientist. The shot went straight through her stomach, killing the man she had been sent to protect.

“Почему ты остановил меня? (Why did you stop me?)” He growled, gripping my arm tightly.

“Женщина не была целью. Пожалуйста, пощадите ее. (The woman was not the goal. Please spare her.)” It was a soft demand rather than a question, and that was enough to have him release my arm and walk away silently.

Once he was out of sight, I made my way down to her.

Pulling her close, I put pressure on her stomach to try to do what I could to slow the bleeding.

“У тебя все будет хорошо, Наталья. Я обещаю тебе. (You'll be alright, Natalia. I promise you.)”

Once I had her stable enough that I felt she would live, I used her phone in the mangled car to send a message to whoever sent her.

Despite what Hydra turned me into, I would not allow my sister to die.

2010 Nearly a year later, seeing Natalia alive and sitting alone at a small table outside a local coffee shop in New York, was the best feeling in the world at the moment. I had lost everything.

My ‘family’, my life… my home.

Now, here I am, watching my sister from afar. Unaware of how much she knew of my life after the academy - frankly, I didn’t much care. She was the only one I could count on right now.

I knew she was on the hunt for the Soldier. I knew she’d never find him.

I also knew she was alone. So I cautiously approached her.

We talked. We got caught up on important events that had happened in our lives, and I was proud Nat managed to get out of Hydra by herself.

I was thankful she didn’t know all the details of her ‘accident’ as well. She had no idea of the part I played. She had no idea that I had even been there.

I never told her what happened to me. I never told her the truth about how I knew the Winter Soldier.

When she asked for my help to find him, I didn’t tell her where he was. Though, I told her I could very easily track him.

I wanted to offer my assistance to my sister desperately, but I had to protect the Soldier - my Soldier. Sure, he had a new mission, and he was technically back on ice for now, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell her where they kept him? She’d realize he was too far away and give up, right?

No.

I couldn’t risk it. Instead, all I offered her was that she should end her search because he was gone for now.

I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet, anyway.

Chapter 2

#marvel #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel fanfic #marvel series #marvel fanfiction #marvel family #Bucky Barnes #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #Bucky fanfiction #bucky fan fiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fandom #mcu fanfic #mcu family #finding home

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