#unfortunately he didn’t think that anyone else would bother looking for him- he’s not exactly a big time crook

[jamiesfootball]

Always lowkey simmering a Leverage AU in the back of my head hear me out:

Ted is an ex-insurance investigator who was able to get his son life-saving medical treatment because his first, original Crime Pal Beard was like ‘Ted if your company doesn’t come through with the coverage, we’re doing things my way.’

The company did not come through. The company did let him go due to suspicion of Ted’s involvement in the incident, but Ted will happily remind folks that no charges were formally pressed. Henry is alive and healthy and living with Michelle, who divorced Ted shortly thereafter (not just because of pre-existing marital problems, but because Ted wouldn’t tell her anything about why the doctors “””suddenly decided to do the procedure for free”””). Shortly thereafter, Ted fled the country.

What Ted learned from the whole experience is that there’s a lot of people out there, good people just trying to live by the rules, but sometimes things happen that are just out of their control. And well- if we’ve got the means to help the good people out when no one else will, then shouldn’t we try?

“We’ve got means,” Beard agrees. “And motives.”

They do things Beard’s way now.

[grimm909]

Red Phone - Part 1

Hello everybody! I'm back and for good! Thank you all so much for your support and comments.

This is a work done especially in celebration of Halloween. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be something small, but again I ended up getting carried away and had to separate it into two parts (maybe three, since the story is still developing). The story will also be posted on a03

Happy reading!

WARNINGS: age difference, non-con, kidnapping, horror, mental breakdown, murder, forced pregnancy

It had been a week since you and your family had moved into a new house. It was large, but had a somewhat morbid appearance, probably due to the time it had been abandoned. Although her parents had renovated it to make the house more presentable, it wasn't exactly an inviting place from the outside. Well, just on the outside, since you really had to give credit for how fascinating she was on the inside.

For example, the attic was an interesting location when you first saw it; full of old and dusty boxes, representing that the previous owner of that place had simply abandoned it there without bothering to come back one day to pick it up. When you went to open the boxes together with your parents to organize that place, there were some interesting things inside like comic books, board games, old clothes and even some somewhat useless objects. Much of it would simply be donated, since you didn't have much interest in most of those things, apart from comics and books.

However, something tucked into the bottom of one of the boxes and carefully wrapped in a piece of black fabric aroused his curiosity. A red phone cordless. Just an old-fashioned device, which was only used for calls and which would probably never pique anyone's interest due to how useless it was compared to a digital cell phone. However, it was curious to see that even though it had been abandoned for years, the device has a appearance new, the blood red color of the device still being quite shiny. It was quite pretty, you had to admit.

When you showed the device to your parents, they both didn't show much interest, although they were surprised to see that it still worked, even after years and years of abandoned it inside. They said you could stay if you wanted, even though it wasn't really useful to you due to the fact that already had a cell phone. You analyzed the device and said that it could be useful if at some point your cell phone stopped working and there was some precision. This would probably never actually happen.

What harm would it do to have it, right?

[…]

You wake up at midnight with your red phone ringing. It was the first time it had rung since you obted gotten it three days ago, since you were the one who normally made the calls.

Trying as hard as possible to get out of bed, you walk over to the phone that was on your desk and answer it.

"Hello?" You ask hoarsely.

“Koebi-chan, I'm so close to you.” A male voice whispers on the other end of the line. It doesn't sound like the voice of anyone you know. “I’m finally going to see what you look like.”

You remain silent for a while, absorbing what that must mean, but quickly concluding that it must just be a wrong call.

“Sorry sir, I think you called…” You didn’t finish your sentence when the call simply fell

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, you don't care enough about the mystery man, placing your phone back in its place and returning to bed.

[…]

Two months have passed since you and your parents moved into the new house, so you already know a little about your neighbor across the street.

Ace was his name.

He was the only person closest to his house, with no one else around. A handsome man who appeared to be around thirty years old, married to a woman whose name was Elisa and having a ten year old daughter named Alice.

The two of you got along relatively well due to the older's playful personality, which reminded you more of a teenager than an adult.

You always greeted him every time you saw him across the street, also smiling and waving at him whenever you saw him through your bedroom window, since through it you had a complete view of Ace's house.

His wife and daughter were also sociable people and you wich especially became attached to the child, loving to take care of her when Ace and his wife left the house to have some alone time as a couple.

Alice also seemed to like you a lot, almost always knocking on your door so you could play together. Sometimes you accepted and other times you refused because you needed to study for college, in the latter case always earning a sad pout from the little girl.

The red phone rings at eight o'clock at night. The only difference from the first time is that you are not sleeping, but taking notes sitting at your desk.

"Hello?" You answer without blinking and lift the phone to your ear.

“Crab?” The male voice on the other line asks.

"Who?" You respond, confusion written all over your face.

“Isn’t that Ace Trappola’s number?”

"No. You called his neighbor.”

The voice is silent for a moment.

“There are no other neighbors besides Crab.”

“By Crab, you mean Ace?” Even though you think that's exactly what it is, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

”The same person~” He drawls.

“I've been Ace's neighbor for about three months. I moved recently.” You calmly explained, tapping your pen on your notebook. You were new to the neighborhood, so this stranger must have bee confused.

“There’s no one else but my family and Crab’s family here.” The voice says in a frustrated or perhaps nervous tone, you can't quite place it.

“I think there was some mistake. What’s your address?” You ask confused, starting to consider it was a prank.

The male voice gives you the location and you let out a tired sigh, realizing that it really was a stupid joke.

“You just described my address.”

The voice on the other end of the line becomes silent once again, until it breaks into laughter.

“Hehehehe, good Grab. I don’t know what you used to change your voice, but it almost got me.”

He says one last time, before hanging up on your face.

[…]

The stranger's call had piqued his curiosity. Were there really no neighbors around? The next day you explained the situation to your mother, who agreed that it could be a prank, since no one really lived close to there anymore. It was a considerably isolated place and far from everything.

“What about the previous owner of the house?” You asked the older woman who had her back turned, washing the lunch dishes.

“The previous owners sold it to a real estate agent.” His mother stated. “The agent who sold me the house just said that after that some other people came to live here, but that after a few years they usually sold it.”

"Just that?" You were displeased, expecting something more impactful.

“I was more interested in how many rooms the house had than who had lived here before.” She laughed nasally.

You would gain no more useful information from your mother and decided that the next place you would explore would be the attic, where there were five more boxes left that had not been opened.

Maybe it was a fruitless search, maybe you were just wasting time, but the man you had talked to didn't seem like a total liar, like he really had conviction in what he was saying. He even knew Ace's first and last name and you doubted your neighbor was playing a prank with you — it would be quite old-fashioned for a man of that age.

You turn on the attic light and open the first box, spilling all the things inside on the dusty floor, finding nothing that would help you learn more about the house. The second box was simply full of old clothes that were too big for you. The third is where you find a kind of notebook, but when reading its contents you don't find anything truly interesting or that indicates the owner of it.

Clank

Turning another page, a piece of paper falls out and you pick it up from the floor, realizing it is an old photograph faded at the edges. Analyzing the image, it seemed to be a family, consisting of the mother, the father and two completely identical children. On the back of the photo was the date it was taken, along with a small statement that probably referenced the two boys in that photo.

Clank

02/22/2009

My beautiful treasures, ♡Floyd♡ and ♡Jade♡

Even with the information obtained, that didn't seem like enough, especially when you didn't even have their last name. You decide to continue exploring the rest of the boxes, but you don't have the same success as before.

Clank

Putting everything back in its place, you decide to keep the photo for research purposes, keeping it in your pants pocket. Darkness encompasses the room when you turn off the light.

Clank

Going down the attic stairs, that's when you notice a strange sound coming from it, resembling two objects hitting each other. You decide to go back to check what it could be, turning on the light again and finding nothing that could hint at the reason for the noise.

Clank

You feel something fall on your head and run your hand over it to remove any insects that may have gotten into your hair. However, it is not exactly “something” that falls, but rather crumbs that appeared to be wood. Crumbs that continued to fall on the ground around him and on his head.

Clank

You go to the other side of the attic that was free of that dust and look up, expecting to find some termites eating away at the ceiling. However, it was something much worse than mere termites.

Something that could not be seen or touched.

Invisible hands carve the ceiling letter by letter, slowly forming an entire sentence.

JADE IS AN IDIOT BITCH

[…]

That number does not exist.

That's what appeared on the red phone screen when you tried to call the same number that called you last night. Even though he had the number saved on his phone, every time he pressed the button to call back, it was always the same message.

Honestly, at this point in the tournament, you didn't doubt that the house or the phone were haunted, not after what you had seen in the attic. Of course, upon witnessing such a scene, you just hurriedly fled, locking yourself in your room and determined to never set foot up there again.

You were scared of what this could be. However, his curiosity still continued to speak louder than any other feeling. Furthermore, you couldn't even run away from that house, since there was nowhere else to go and your parents would never believe that story about a strange message having suddenly appeared in the attic. His only option at the moment was to stay and find out what the hell was going on.

Therefore, all you could do was wait until the mysterious boy called again.

[…]

The red phone rings at midnight and you hurriedly put down your notebook and pen to put your hands on it, answering it without thinking twice.

"Hello!?" You say in a mix of fear and euphoria.

“So close…” The voice on the other end sounded breathless, almost as euphoric as you were.

“Close to what?” You ask, still unable to recognize who the man on the other end of the line was, even though you knew it was the same voice who had called you the first time.

“Close… pouʇ… of …ʇɹnsʇ… Let’s go …ɥᴉɯ… Together” You can’t hear it properly, the horrible sound of static playing in the background. “You just… ɯnɹ… pǝɹǝɹ… stay on the phone”

The call drops and you look at the small phone screen, noticing strange glitches. You hit his side with the palm of your hand, trying to get him back to normal.

After a few seconds, the static stops.

[…]

At six o'clock the next day, the red phone rings.

However, unlike last time, you seem a little afraid to answer. Maybe that device was the reason for the start of his problems, that was almost certain. You had even seriously thought about setting that thing on fire, maybe then the bizarre things would stop. Still, a part of you refused to do that, thinking it might end up making the situation worse instead of better.

You decide to follow the unknown man's instructions, even though you didn't trust him. Maybe he was a ghost who had possessed that cell phone and was now haunting you, you were starting to come up with some insane theories.

"Hello?"

“Ah, it’s the same voice as before.” The guy on the other line says uninterested.

"Yes. But don’t hang up, please.” You say as politely as possible. “It’s not a prank and I’m not Ace.”

“I know it’s not.” He responds back. “I spoke to Crab yesterday and he was quite confused, saying that this wasn’t even his number anymore.”

"Great." You sighed in relief. “Look, it might be hard to believe, but the address you gave me is actually the same as the one I live at.” You looked out your bedroom window and saw Ace playing with his daughter in the backyard. “My house is literally opposite his.”

“Eehh, mine too.” The boy spoke from the other side, not seeming to fully believe you. “Or would it be ours?” He laughed.

“Could you tell me your name?” You ask, taking the photo you had collected from the attic out of your desk drawer.

“Floyd Leech. And you?"

You turn the verse and see that the name was the same, but you don't know how to describe which of the twins he would be in the photo. The date on which it was taken also arouses your curiosity and you again begin to think that this whole situation was perhaps a bad joke. Could it be that the former resident of that house, Floyd, was just playing a welcome prank on you?

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” The voice on the other end gets louder when you take a long time rambling.

“Sorry, I just got distracted by something.” You prefer not to talk about the photo at hand. “My name is Y/n.”

“Never heard of it.” His disinterested tone returns to the surface.

“Yes, I had never heard of you either until today” That wasn’t entirely true, as you had discovered the photo a few hours ago. “I know it sounds strange, but could you tell me today’s date?”

“What, are you that lost in time?” He laughed. “Seriously, what did you smoke?”

“I swear I’m quite sane.” You respond sharply, but return to a calmer tone of voice, not wanting him to hang up the phone again. “Tell me today’s date, please.”

“Asking me so affectionately like that, I can’t refuse.” He jokes, using a more sly tone. “Today is 04/20/2009”

You cough, choking on your own saliva.

“Exactly at six-fifteen in the afternoon?” You look at the clock on the wall in your room.

“You got it~”

The phrase that appeared in the attic appears in his head like a puzzle piece to be fitted into that mystery. You had thought about the possibility that it was a vengeful ghost writing that, but upon reflection, it was more like an angry brother writing something stupid about his other brother.

“Something appeared in the attic yesterday.” You revealed. “A message that said: Jade is a stupid bitch. Did you do it?”

There is a short silence on the other side.

“How do you know that, huh!?” The previously sly voice suddenly turns into something threatening and you briefly withdraw the phone from your ear. “You’ve been spying on me, bitch!” He spits and you swear that if he were in front of you, that guy would definitely move towards you.

"No! I’m not spying on anyone.” You state with conviction, using your other hand to search your digital cell phone for any information that occurred on the same date that Floyd informed you. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's possible that we are in the same house, in different years.” It doesn't take long for you to find news that matches the date. “At nine o’clock, a plane will crash north of Chica-…”

“You and Jade are making fun of me, aren’t you!?” The boy on the other side looked like he was going to explode with rage. “Tell him to go fuck himself!”

You no longer have a chance to explain yourself, when he hangs up on you again.

[…]

The next day, you look for Ace to talk about the house's previous residents. You knock on his door, but are answered by Alice.

“Come to play with me?” The little girl asks happily, jumping up and down in anticipation.

“Sorry, I just came here to talk to Ace about something.” You break the illusion of the little girl, who makes a sulky expression and goes back into the house, screaming for her father.

It doesn't take long for him to appear in front of you, closing the door behind him and walking with you to the curb.

“Mom said you’ve lived here for several years. Does that mean you got to know the first residents?” You asked bluntly.

"Yes. They were a reserved family, a little strange and even scary, I would say.” He let out a nasal laugh, as if remembering something amusing.

“I found this photo.” You take the photograph from your pants pocket, handing it to Ace who promptly takes it. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

“Ah, man, I barely remembered the faces.” He spoke in surprise, a little nostalgic. “But it’s them, yes.”

“On the back it says Jade and Floyd, but I don’t know who is who. They are identical.”

“Hehe, if you look closely, you will notice subtle differences in each one.” He comes to stand next to you and holds out the photo for you to observe the details. “See, this is Jade who is smiling without showing her teeth, with her hands together in front of her body and correct posture. He was always the most reserved and eloquent, sometimes he even seemed like a butler.” He laughed and you followed him, infected by the energetic laugh that Ace had. “This is Floyd…” The redhead’s tone seemed less enthusiastic and more morbid for a moment, but you thought it was just a bad impression, as he soon returned to his usual playful normality as he talked about the other brother. “Relaxed expression and hand behind the head. Man, he was a whirlwind, the total opposite of his brother.”

"I imagine." You nodded, remembering how he snapped yesterday afternoon. “But why did they move?”

“Well…” Ace handed you the photo. “A tragedy occurred with the family” He sighed heavily, seeming to not like that story. “One of the sons ended up dying.”

His breath came ragged from the shock.

“But… how?” You asked, disbelieved.

“A motorcycle accident.” Ace shrugged. “The mourning was very much for the Leech family, mainly because they were all very united.”

“That’s why they moved?”

“I think they wanted to start again, somewhere else.” He theorized. “Honestly, I would have done the same.”

“But which of the brothers ended up dying in this accident?” You asked, apprehensive about the answer.

No, you already knew the answer.

“Floyd Leech.”

[…]

The accident had occurred on 04/30/2009

Since the days of the past and present were the same, this meant that Floyd would end up dying in seven days.

Shortly after talking to Ace, you returned home and did some research on your laptop to find out more about what had happened. In addition to finding out the date, you had discovered that Floyd died at the scene of the accident, before the ambulance could even provide assistance. Bones broken and fractured, his body had been completely torn apart.

If you still had doubts that this could be a joke, that possibility simply evaporated without a trace. You didn't just seem to be messing with the supernatural, but also with the timeline. That, or the house was haunted by the spirit of young Floyd who never passed on to the afterlife. Well, you hoped it was the first theory, since the latter was pretty scary and there weren't any ghostbusters you could call.

Your only option at that moment was to wait for Floyd to call you again before that date. You wanted to try to save him from that horrible fate, even though you were doubtful about the time lapse it could bring. If you saved him, would you still be living in the same house? Would you end up forgetting everything that happened, including Ace and Alice?

You had watched countless time travel movies and, honestly, the possibilities were endless.

[…]

The red phone rings at four o'clock.

You were in the shower, but you interrupt to hurriedly grab the towel and wrap it over your wet body, leaving a trail of water as you leave the suite and head to your room. You rub your wet hand under the towel before picking it up, worried that you might end up damaging the phone through sheer lack of attention.

"Hello?"

“How did you know?” It was Floyd. You were aware he was asking about the plane crash.

“I saw it on the internet.” You replied simply. “I’m in the same house as you, but fifteen years ahead.”

“What else do you know about me?”

“Honestly, nothing.” You shake your head in denial, even though you know he couldn't see you. “But I know what will happen to you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, looking annoyed.

“On the twenty-eighth of this month, you will have a motorcycle accident.” You respond impassively. “A truck runs over you and you die before they can even help.” Although it would be a little cruel to say something so scary unceremoniously, you didn't want to beat around the bush. Everything now simply depended on whether Floyd believed you or not. “I would never joke about something so serious.” You finally say.

"I believe." You mentally thank him for the vote of confidence. “But why are you living in my house?”

“My mother recently bought this house from a real estate agent. The first family to live here sold it fifteen years ago, which coincides with the time you had the accident.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” From the tone of his voice, Floyd sounded worried.

“I found out about your brother through a photo I found in the attic” Which was still kept on his desk. “I did some quick research. Apparently he is a partner in a restaurant chain called Mostro Lounge. Quite impressive!”

“Aaah, so he did well.” Floyd didn't really seem surprised by his brother's success. “Cool~”

“I’m sure you too can have a cool future if you stay at home or take your motorcycle in for repairs.” You advise him gently. “Since the accident occurred due to a clutch failure.”

“Eehh, I just lent Crabby the bike until the weekend” Floyd looked annoyed. “I can’t believe that idiot is going to end up breaking her.”

“Haha…” You laughed awkwardly. “As soon as he returns it to you, just take it to be repaired.”

“Why are you helping me?” He questions, seeming really curious about that act of kindness coming from a stranger.

“I can stop someone from dying. I think anyone else would do the same in my place.” You shrugged. “And from what I saw in your family photo, you're still too young to go to the afterlife so soon” You laughed, trying to relax to make the situation less gloomy. “How old are you, Floyd?”

“Twenty years.”

"Coincidence. Me too."

“Do you think that’s one of the reasons we’re breaking the rules of spacetime?” He laughed nasally and you followed him with a brief giggle.

“To tell the truth, I think it’s because of the house or a red phone I found in the attic.” You theorized, choosing not to think about it anymore. “Maybe both.”

“A red cordless phone?”

“That one.” You confirmed, surprised.

“He is mine. The same one I’m using to talk to you.”

Okay, the weirdness hadn't stopped.

“Did you happen to throw some voodoo on him?” You joked and heard him laughing on the other end.

“If I was capable of something like that, I don’t think I would have died, right?” He replied back, dejectedly.

“Hehe, yeah…” The mood took a turn for the worse once again and you were forced to think of something to change the situation or simply hang up, since you were making the whole room wet. “Look, I’m not able to return your call, much less call you directly. So could you call me the day after tomorrow at the same time?”

"Of course~" His mood appears to have improved, to which Floyd responded excitedly. “I really want to know what the future looks like in fifteen years.”

[…]

The next day, you knocked on your neighbor's door again, this time being answered by Ace's wife.

Today you were committed to taking care of little Alice, since the older woman was going to visit her parents and only return the next day. And Trappola would not be able to take care of her daughter, as he would only arrive after six o'clock.

“You’re on time.” Elisa commented with a friendly smile.

“I like to be punctual!” You stated excitedly. “Are you leaving yet?”

"Yes. I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.” She hands him the house key. “There is food in the fridge if you want to eat, just heat it in the microwave.”

You nod in agreement, waving goodbye to Elisa as she gets into the car and starts it.

You enter the house you were already familiar with and lock the door, finding Alice in the living room watching TV.

“Hi, aunt.” She greets without looking at you, too engrossed in what was playing on the screen.

“Do you prefer to play or watch?” Looking at the screen, you recognized it as the little mermaid movie.

“It starts now!” She turned her head towards him and made those irresistible pious eyes. “Make some popcorn and come watch with me.”

You are unable to deny her request, doing what the girl asks you and after a few minutes returning to the room with a bucket full of popcorn. Already knowing the things that would happen, you weren't very excited about watching the film again, but the songs were still good to listen to and you even found yourself singing one of them together with Alice.

When the film ends, she decides that now she wants to play with dolls, picking up a beautiful plastic baby that was sitting in a child's chair.

“Look, auntie, it’s my new doll!” Alice said happily, practically rubbing the new toy in you face. “She even talks!” The girl presses the doll's chest with both thumbs.

Mommy, I love you.

"Cool!" You feign excitement at the irritatingly childish voice coming out of the object. Dolls hadn't been her thing for years.

“I’ll get another doll upstairs for us to play.” Alice places the toy in you lap and runs upstairs.

Being left alone with that silly toy, you squeeze the doll's chest to hear what other phrases she had.

Let's play!

You squeeze again.

Mommy, I'm hungry.

Again.

Can we go to the park?

One more time.

If you keep going, he'll come get you.

You are startled and let the doll fall from your hands, hurriedly getting up from the floor and moving away. For a moment, you fear that thing will rise up and start attacking you, similar to the killer doll movie. However, seconds pass and the toy remains stagnant on the floor, as lifeless as it always was.

Something in the previously said phrase arouses your curiosity and you raise an eyebrow, wondering who would come to pick you up or if it was just some hideous factory defect, as even the toy's irritating voice had become less childish and more morbid.

Even though you were afraid, you approached and picked her up, squeezing the doll's chest again to see what else she could say.

Mommy, I love you.

You snort, annoyed.

[…]

Ace arrives at eight o'clock, a little later than usual.

“Alice is already in bed.” You tell him as you watch him take off his dress shoes and coat, placing the latter on the hanger.

“Sorry to make you stay late.” He laughs awkwardly and you can tell by the expression on his face that the redhead looks haggard.

“Oh, no. It’s ok.” You reassure him with a gentle smile. “You look tired, is everything okay?”

“It’s just the job.” Ace lets out a heavy sigh, walks over to the sofa you were sitting on and sprawls his body on it, arms completely open under the upholstery.

“What exactly do you do?” You ask curiously, as you never knew about your neighbor's job.

"Counter." Ace responds dejectedly.

You also don't help improve his mood when you burst into laughter, disbelieving that this was the cynical Ace's profession.

"Hey!" The redhead exclaims, annoyed that you're laughing in his face.

“I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you at all.” Wiping a tear from your eye, you continue laughing in a less outrageous way.

“Obviously not.” He snorts. “But it’s not like I had a lot of choices.”

"What do you mean?" Calmer after the explosion of laughter, you ask intrigued.

“I was twenty-three when Elisa became pregnant with Alice.” Ace looks towards the stairs where the rooms were, turns his attention to you and lowers his voice. “It was an accident.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, surprised.

“Because of that, I dropped out of college and got a job so I could take care of the baby-”

“College of what?” Although it would be appropriate to continue listening to your friend's story without interrupting, your curiosity gets the better of you and your mouth moves before you can even think.

“Nah, you’ll laugh.”

"No! I won’t, I promise.” You bring your index fingers together to form an “x”, bringing them to your mouth. “Tell me!”

"Teacher." He responds without much ceremony.

You actually keep your promise and don't laugh, but you are truly incredulous that this would be the profession chosen by the mischievous Ace.

“Professor Ace Trappola.” You say slowly, testing how the taste of those words sound to your ears. “Sounds good.”

“Do you think so?” He smiles, apparently more excited by those simple words.

Yes yes." You agree smiling. “But tell me more! What’s the rest of the story?” You question, curious to know more about the redhead's life.

“After two years, Elisa and I got married. We thought it would be good if we got our shit together.” He shrugs and becomes discouraged again. “We already had a baby, we just needed the rings.”

"I'm very sorry." You say painfully, although you didn't know exactly why you were sorry. Maybe because Ace's dreams never came true? For the years lost in a life he never wanted?

“It’s okay, I kind of like being a father.” He gave you a sincere smile and you knew Ace wasn't lying.

“What about Elisa?”

“I like her too.” He responds without the sincere smile from before, just a blank facet. There was no sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned his own wife, you noticed. “You know, I saw you yesterday.” Ace suddenly changes the subject, straightening his posture on the couch to face you.

"As? I didn’t even leave the house.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“In the window, answering an old phone.” A dirty little smile appears on Ace's lips and you feel like you were missing something.

It still takes a few seconds to understand exactly when that happened, until the penny falls heavily on your head.

“Oh, my God!” You cover your face with the palms of your hands, too embarrassed to look at the redhead. “I’m not a pervert, I swear it was accidental!”

“Hahaha.” It's his turn to laugh about your misfortune and it makes you feel even worse, groaning in annoyance between your fingers. Seeing that you really felt bad about that, Ace immediately stopped laughing. “Okay, okay.” He holds your wrists delicately, gradually lowering the hands that covered your face so that you can face him again. Seeing him now, he seemed to have gotten even closer to you face. “Honestly, I liked the view.” The redhead gives you that stupid smile again.

“Hmm.” You just moan in agreement, still embarrassed and not knowing exactly how to react to Ace's compliment.

“You’re kind of bad at reading the climate.” He laughs one last time, before closing his eyes and breaking the distance that separated your lips from his.

Ace is quick to wrap his tongue around yours when you opened your mouth a little in surprise from the sudden kiss, involuntarily allowing the redhead to explore the inside of your mouth.

Even though you're shocked, it doesn't take you more than three seconds to close your eyelids and let yourself be carried away by the moment. Their tongues come together in a delicate way, exactly like a calm sailing at sea.

His brain gradually fills with pleasure, which was provided by the kiss that became more steamy as time passed. His tongue moved with an impressive mastery that you never had with boys your age.

Inside you there was a damn explosion of happiness, which internally clashed with some bitter emotions present, but which were being furiously crushed as the kiss progressed from a peaceful way to a hotter and wetter one.

Ace didn't seem very distant, wanting you more and more to the point of wanting to become just one with you through your lips that he so wished to kiss. The redhead takes his hand to you head and sinks his fingers into you locks, giving more depth to the kiss, but also making the air in her lungs become increasingly scarce.

The fact that you both needed to breathe became an obstacle in the midst of the pleasure you felt, which forced Ace to stop the kiss and move away a little.

He carefully visualizes the delicate features of your face, as he had done so many times without you noticing, considering that your pink cheeks due to embarrassment or the possible ecstasy of the kiss left you very cute. However, the redhead's greatest attention ended up once again falling on his parted lips, which were now slightly swollen and red. Ace couldn't help but feel attracted and mesmerized by them again, as he had been for a long time.

After normalizing his breathing, he was going towards you for a second kiss, but you stopped him by putting your hand in front of his mouth, preventing Ace from kissing you again.

“Ace, you have a wife.” You do your best not to fall into temptation again.

Although you couldn't deny that you had some conflicted feelings regarding what you felt for Ace, it wasn't fair to stab Elisa in the back. You liked her and didn't want to be a home wrecker. Not only would it harm her, it would also harm little Alice.

"I understand." He says placidly, stepping back. “But Elisa and I are going to separate.”

"Huh!?" You face forms into a clearly confused expression.

“Before you even arrived, things were complicated.” He lets out a tired sigh. “She went to her parents’ house to stay away from me for a while.”

“Did something happen?” Maybe it was rude to ask, but you needed to know if that story was really true.

“We fought yesterday.” His shoulders slumped in dismay. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked Elisa. I like, but I don't love her anymore.”

“Is it possible for someone to stop loving another person?” A line of disbelief forms on his forehead, doubtful that something like this would be possible between two people who have lived together for so many years.

“In my case, apparently yes.” He laughed half-heartedly. “Elisa and I stayed together for Alice and tried to stay together as a family for her.” The redhead looks away to look at his own bare feet. There was a light of regret and sadness in his crimson eyes. “But we hurt ourselves in the process.” You stay silent, feeling a little sorry for Ace and Elisa, but mostly for Alice. Trappola looks at you again and once again gets dangerously close to you, but he doesn't kiss you. Instead, he places one of his hands on the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb in a clear sign of affection and kindness. "I want you."

You don't know exactly how to feel about this statement. The doubts were still present in his head and apparently the only way to dismiss them was to confirm the words previously said by Ace.

“Are you really going to break up? I don’t want to be a home wrecker, much less be your lover.” You firmly admit.

“In a month. Only a month left until the divorce papers are ready.”

In a bold and unpredictable move that you never expected to come out of your own mouth, the next words would surprise you when you remembered them the next day.

“Let’s go to your room.”

Trappola's crimson eyes shine and a smile of genuine happiness emerges from the corners of his mouth. He jumps off the couch and grabs your hand, dragging you upstairs.

[…]

Before you knew it, Ace already had his face buried between your legs.

His mouth was firmly attached to your intimacy, teasing hickeys with wet and obscene sounds, tasting every bit of your pussy to engrave the taste in his memory.

“You’re so hot.” Ace praises, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh and then returning to attack her sensitive parts.

Even with one hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, you still moan loudly, feeling him focus exclusively on your clit, licking and sucking with such devotion that you can't stop yourself from taking your other free hand to locks Ace, squeezing a bundle of unruly red strands. He was very good at making your pussy the most appetizing thing in the world.

It had only been a few minutes since Ace was fucking you so fervently, but even in that short time you already felt the heat in your belly building up more and more, ready to explode. He was amazing at oral sex, probably due to years of experience. Your hand would never satisfy you in the same way again after experiencing the wonder that Ace mouth was capable of provi.

Trappola's teeth graze over your sensitive spot and you let out a whiny moan, drops of tears splashing your eyes due to the ecstasy you've never felt. Your soaked little hole was begging for a piece of meat, to the point where your warm, velvety walls tightened around nothing as Ace fucked you with his tongue.

You involuntarily lift your hips several times, while sparks of pleasure cross your body in a clear sign that you were close to finally reaching the fullness of pleasure.

“Ace I… Ah!… I… Ngh… I’m going to…” You remove your hand from in front of your mouth to warn him, but your moans were making it difficult for you to form a coherent sentence.

He looks deeply at you with his scarlet orbs filled with lust and possession, before pulling away to give you that stupid little smile and order in a husky voice.

“Cum for me, dear.” It's the last thing Ace says before he goes back to attacking your sensitive pussy with more frenzy than before, without taking his eyes off you.

You don't know if it's because of the eroticism of those words, the way he looks at you or even the most obvious reason that his mouth was on your vulva, but you scream and finally reach your limit. The knot that had formed in your abdomen dissolves in a hot orgasm and your hips rise again, at the same time that your entire body spasms constantly with pleasure.

Even after he has successfully made you cum, Ace continues to lick you more gently, sucking the clear fluid that comes out of your tight hole. He only moves away when he feels sufficiently satisfied, a thick thread of drool connecting your wet pussy to his mouth, but which soon falls apart the further away these two are.

“Please tell me your room has thick walls.” You inquire heavily, recovering from the newly felt high.

“Don’t worry about making loud noises.” Ace laughs and crawls until he is at the height of your face, kissing you and making you feel your own taste still present in the older man's mouth. Your arms circle around his neck and you reciprocate without any reluctance in that act.

Ace's hand roams your already fully naked body, sliding from your soft abdomen to your newly stimulated crotch, touching your hole. Upon noticing what he was about to do, you quickly close your legs and stop Trappola from continuing with his actions. You break the kiss and moderately push him away with your elbow, sitting on the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Ace asks as he puts his weight under his knees, clearly confused by your quick change in attitude.

“That's kind of embarrassing to say.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you look away. “I’m still a virgin.”

Ace remains silent for about three seconds, before exclaiming in perplexity:

“Whoa, really?” He quickly removes his hand from between your legs.

“Yes, but I hope that’s not a problem for you.” You bite your bottom lip nervously and look back at him.

“Haha, that’s no problem at all.” Ace laughed, that beautiful energetic smile you loved so much adorning the mature features of his face. “I’m just surprised by that. I mean, you’re so pretty.” You were taken aback by the compliment and your face heated up as you watched the way he looked at you affectionately.

“I don’t want you to take my virginity with your fingers.” You laughed at your own words, quickly changing the subject. Honestly, you didn't want to ruin the mood by commenting on your practically non-existent love life. “And honestly, I think I’m already wet enough to welcome you.” You direct your eyes to Ace's intimacy, noticing a voluminous bulge in his underwear, as well as a dark stain on the tip of his cock protruding forward. "Do you have a condom?"

“Look, married people don’t use condoms.” He mocked with a stupid little smile.

Shit.

“Seriously, I always told myself I would never do this without a condom.” You laughed, disbelieving that you would end up breaking the only rule you had made when you had your first time. However, even more disbelieved given how much you trusted Ace to give in so easily without even thinking twice.

“Does that mean?” Ace inquires expectantly.

You respond to him with actions, lying back on the bed and vulgarly opening your legs, exposing your intimate area with the clear intention of someone waiting to be fucked.

Trappola swallows hard, feeling his cock throb at how beautifully erotic you were as you so willingly gave yourself to him. Even kneeling on the bed, Ace is quick, practically euphoric in getting rid of the only piece of clothing that prevented him from fucking you. The redhead positions himself above you and places one hand on your hip, while the other is responsible for guiding his own cock towards your slippery hole.

“Can I?” Ace checks before taking any action, although his breathing was clearly heavy, yearning to fuck you.

"Yes." You say a little shyly, even though your actions so far have been quite naughty.

With the confirmation Ace needed, he slowly pushes his erect member inside you, sighing in delight at finally being able to feel your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock.

On the other hand, the sensation was a little strange at first, until it became painful as Trappola advanced further inside, breaking your hymen and then filling you with his cock. The length of Ace's member inside your vaginal canal was more than acceptable, but you squeeze the bed sheets between your fingers and let out a low moan of pain.

"You are incredible." Ace comments with restrained euphoria, marveling at having you all to himself. However, upon noticing his expression of pain, he asks worriedly. “Does it hurt?”

"A little." You shift uncomfortably in bed. “But you can continue.” You calm down with a sweet smile on your lips, not minding being a little hasty even after having graduated from your virginity literally seconds ago. You hands circle around the redhead's neck again and bring him for you lips touch his in a warm kiss.

He reciprocates immediately, but it doesn't take long for Ace to pull away from your mouth and decide it's time to move after feeling his cock throb in excitement, practically begging to be moved and finally fuck you rough.

The redhead moves his hips away a little, enough so that half of his rigid penis remains outside your gummy walls, then returns entirely inside you with a hard thrust all the way to the bottom. Ace lets out a heavy sigh as soon as he receives a delicious grip around his member, intensely loving that pleasurable sensation of a young pussy like yours.

However, this action was responsible for causing you to gasp in pain, but unlike the first time it was completely ignored by Ace, as he no longer cared about trying to be gentle after you yourself approved that he continued to fuck you.

Addicted to getting more of those delicious squeezes, Ace successively starts to do the same actions mentioned above, but in a slower back and forth so that he doesn't reach orgasm so soon. After all, he didn't imagine that you virgin pussy would be so hot.

You periodically continue to let out one or another moan of pain, without having yet been able to feel any trace of pleasure in it, although it is no longer as agonizing as it was at first. Trying to feel as good as Ace felt when he fucked you, you take one of your hands towards your clitoris, rubbing it with your index and middle fingers. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as spikes of delight begin to circulate through your body even in the midst of the feeling of agony.

“Still bothered?” Ace laughs softly when he realizes what was happening and removes his hand so he can take care of the situation himself, too proud to let you pleasure yourself. “Let me do this for you.” He asks, at the same time that Ace's thumb touches your sensitive spot, making rotating movements with a fixation much greater than you could alone.

“Oh!” You exclaim not only in surprise, but also in jubilation. Touching herself felt good, but being touched by someone else felt even better, bringing her a never-before-felt feeling of ecstasy.

The older man bends down a little and dips his face into the side of your neck, licking and leaving marks of love on your previously immaculate skin. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and your previously rigid body begins to relax on the bed as Ace continues to stimulate you in different ways. His dick inside you wasn't so bad anymore, starting to become less strange and more dizzying.

“Ace, this feels so good.” You say with a ragged breath, enchanted by how sex could be something wonderful and addictive. You didn't regret giving your virginity to Trappola one bit.

“I feel good too.” Ace whispers close to your ear, before gently biting your earlobe in teasing. A pleasant shiver runs through your body through this action and you reciprocate by biting his neck gently, weak enough to not leave marks. You wouldn't be stupid enough to do that when Ace was still married. “Oh, how cute.” He comments with a wicked laugh and you are indignant, taking revenge on him by putting a little more pressure against the redhead's skin, consequently hearing him moan in pain. “I take back what I said.”

You both laugh through sex, captivated by each other. However, Ace breaks the romantic mood by pulling away and removing his still hard penis from inside you. A groan leaves your lips, dissatisfied by the sudden absence of your intimacy.

“It’s okay, I won’t stop.” Ace soothes by kissing the top of his head. “But wouldn’t you like to try other positions?” He suggests, but before you can say anything, Trappola easily handles your body that had been claimed by himself, placing you on your side and positioning himself behind you, resulting in the redhead's penis touching the soft and warm skin of your buttock. Ace appreciates the slightest touch, letting out a sigh and feeling terribly tempted to give you a bite in that area, but deciding to leave that for another time. “What do you think?” He asks, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck.

“As long as it’s good…” You mutter without having an opinion of your own due to a complete lack of experience.

Ace slowly passes his hand down the length of your incredibly hot body, starting at your shoulder, sliding down your waist, feeling your hip and hovering over your thigh, lifting the latter without the slightest difficulty so that he could have better access to your hole and thus calm down his greedy hormones.

You were so deliciously wet, that Ace's member practically slid inside, being immediately massaged by your pussy that already responded to his thrust. Feeling like that, stretching and welcoming him as if Ace's member was already a natural part of your body, was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

It was inevitable. He felt the need to move quickly inside. And with a powerful thrust of his hips, the redhead delighted in feeling the limits of his tight intimacy, at the same time as he was gifted with a heavy moan from you, which only served to elevate his ego even more.

Ace's other free hand reached under your body to return to the work from before, which involved stimulating your sensitive clit. He started to move his hips faster, making a complete mess of you and eliciting several moans. However, if you continued moaning so sweetly for him, the redhead wouldn't be able to last two minutes in the paradise he was in.

Even though he wanted to prolong the fuck he was having, Trappola's body no longer seemed to obey his wishes due to the pleasure that had accumulated in his cock. Fortunately, you don't seem too far from that.

“Y/n!” Ace pants your name and closes his eyes, letting his seed fill your previously virgin hole with hot steady streams.

You come soon after, letting out a sharp scream as your pussy milks him with constant squeezes until the last drop fills you.

When Ace's pleasure is finally released inside you, your body becomes completely limp and your breathing is labored.

The redhead rested your leg on the bed and with the hand that was previously holding it he began to caress and eventually squeeze your buttocks, admiring the sperm that dripped from your pussy and slid down your thighs. Ace had come in very large amounts, pleased that you took all of him

“You were amazing.” Ace praised sincerely, placing an affectionate kiss on her reddened cheek. It was actually funny of him to say that, after all, you did absolutely nothing during sex.

“I hope your wife has some birth control.” You murmured as you recovered from your orgasmic high.

“She can’t get pregnant anymore.” He lets out a muffled laugh against your neck.

“Urgh.” An annoyed grumble leaves his lips.

You would have to buy contraceptives the next day or Alice would end up getting a new baby brother.

[…]

You left minutes after sex.

Although Ace insisted that you spend the night with him, you couldn't because of your parents. They wouldn't be stupid enough to believe any excuse you came up with to stay at the redhead's house all night, especially when your house was literally opposite his. At least you already had an excuse ready for his delay, saying that Trappola had arrived late from work, which actually happened.

Oh, yes. You also stole that doll from hell.

Although he felt sorry for knowing that Alice would be sad to wake up and no longer find her new toy, it was still better than leaving a seemingly cursed doll in her arms.

You burned her the next day and the doll no longer made a sound.

Thank you for reading this far! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

See you soon.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

platonic yandere shanks and child reader

Better Left Unsaid

Yandere Shanks x GN Child Reader

3k words

“Don’t.”

With one leg still thrown over the side of the ship, you whip around and glare at Yassop. You dropped your head onto the railing and groaned, “Come on! I won’t even leave the docks, please!”

Yassop looked up from the gun that he was polishing, shooting you a weary look, “You know the rules, kid.”

“The rules are stupid!”

“Take that up with Shanks if you think so,” he replied in a bored tone.

You give out the most exasperated sigh and hop down from the railing with a huff. The boards creaked under the impact, more so after you began stomping across the deck. Both of you knew full well that talking to Shanks would get you nowhere. He’s the captain and your dad, he isn’t about to take orders from you.

Using more force than probably necessary, you open and slam the door to the captain’s quarters. It doubled as your bedroom, too. That was fine when you were little, but now you wanted your own space. Every time you tried to tell him this, you would just get waved off and told there was no room. It was either his room or bunking with all the other guys, so you begrudgingly accepted your fate of staying where you were. At least he put up a curtain to give you a little privacy.

After flopping onto your bed, you screamed into your pillow at the top of your lungs while kicking your feet on the bed. This was so unfair!

All you wanted was to leave the damn ship on a populated island. The only times you ever got to set foot on solid land was if they stopped at an uninhabited island, but that wasn’t enough for you anymore. You wanted to see people that weren’t your family, see sights that you don’t usually get to see, and pick out your own damn clothes for once! Was that really so much to ask for?!

Violently, you flipped onto your back and scowled at the ceiling, clutching your screamed-in pillow to your chest.

This was all so frustrating, but you didn’t know how to fix it. Talking to your dad was pointless, he never listened to you when you were complaining. The crew was just as bad, they treated you like a baby. But they were all you had. Shanks didn’t let you see, much less talk, to anyone else.

What you needed was leverage. You needed something that would give you enough of an upperhand to get him to listen to you. In essence, you needed blackmail, and you were in the perfect place to find some.

You grinned maliciously as you sprung out of your bed and marched over to his side of the room. Surely there had to be something in here that would give you some dirt on him! You aren’t sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure you’ll know it when you see it.

First was the bed. You lifted up the mattress to peek under and see if anything was hidden underneath. Nothing.

Next was the bedside table. You opened all of the drawers one by one. While you did find some stuff, it wasn’t anything useful. Some old maps, pens, notebooks with nothing interesting in them, a mostly empty booze bottle. Nothing scandalous enough to get a leg over on him.

There was a clothes dresser, too. At first you hesitated. No one wants to risk seeing their dad’s underwear, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Pulling open the first drawer, you found a bunch of shirts haphazardly shoved into it. None of them were folded, and it looks like he filled this thing up blindfolded and under intense pressure. No wonder his clothes are so wrinkled. It was a bit of a struggle to close when you were done rifling through it due to how jam-packed it was. Part of a shirt was sticking out after you finally slammed it shut, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. It’s not like you were going to make it look any worse.

The next drawer was similar to the first in terms of how messy it was, but this time with pants. It’s no longer a mystery as to why he perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed. Whatever, his unfortunate state of fashion is of no real concern to you.

As you dug through the mess of pants, your fingers made contact with something solid. You froze briefly but quickly snapped out of it and grabbed whatever it was you touched. It took a bit of effort, but you freed the object from its tangled up prison. It was a small box. With a lock on it.

Perfect!

This had to be it! If he cared enough to lock it up, then there must be something top secret in here! Giddily, you scurried back to your bed with your findings, not even bothering to kick the dresser shut. You were going to be confronting him with this anyways, no need to be secretive about it.

The box was tossed onto your bed while you dug through your own bedside table, looking for your lockpicking kit. Shanks was about to regret teaching you how to do that. 

You threw the kit next to the box and hopped on the bed. The lock was tiny and appeared to be uncomplicated, you’re betting you’ll have it open in under a minute. Grabbing your slimmest hook, you jammed it into the keyhole.

It unlocked instantly. Damn, you might have to make fun of your dad for using such a useless lock.

The lock was discarded and you opened the box. It was full of pieces of paper and photographs. Interesting. You pick up the first photo you see. It’s facing down, the back of it says ‘Uta - 2’. You flip it over, curious to see what that note on the back means.

It’s a picture of your dad when he was much younger, but that wasn’t what stuck out to you. What really caught your eye was the little girl he was holding. She was very young, and her hair was split down the middle with one side being white and the other red. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear. You can’t remember ever seeing your dad look that happy.

You look at the note again. ‘Uta - 2’. The girl looked to be about two years old, so that was probably her age. Was Uta her name? That made sense.

But who is she? 

No one has ever mentioned someone named Uta being on board. As far as you were aware, you were the only child that’s ever been with them. Maybe this picture was taken before Shanks became a pirate? No, wait, it can’t be that either. He’s never not been a part of a pirate crew.

You need more information. Setting the picture aside, you start pulling more stuff out of the box. There’s some sheet music. The handwriting is somewhat neat, but also big and exaggerated with more loops than necessary and hearts dotting the i’s. Like it was written by a child. On the bottom, the name Uta was signed in large cursive letters.

Another photo is taken out, Shanks isn’t in it, but Uta and other members of his crew are. Uta is standing on a box like some sort of a makeshift stage, and appears to be singing if you had to guess. The others were clapping and cheering her on. This was definitely taken a while ago. Benn’s hair hadn’t even turned gray yet. The back of it said ‘Uta - 5’.

The next picture once again has Uta in it. She’s sitting next to a little boy with black hair and a scar under his eye.

Why does your dad have so many pictures of some girl you’ve never even heard of? This definitely feels like a secret, but you’re so confused about what you’re finding that you can’t bring yourself to feel like this is really a victory for you. You need to dig deeper.

Once again, you reach for another photo, one with three people in it this time. You instantly recognize Shanks and Uta, who you don’t know is the seemingly newborn baby in Shanks’ arms. His expression is nothing but soft and adoring, while Uta’s is a combination of curious but excited.

How many damn kids has your dad taken in and proceeded to just never mention ever?!

You flip over the picture to figure out who this one is supposed to be, but freeze up when you read it.

‘(Y/N) - Just got here!’

That’s… you? You and Uta were here at the same time, but you’re just now finding out about her? What the hell is going on?

Frantically, you unceremoniously dump out the rest of the contents of the box. You’re desperate to find answers, anything that could explain why your dad has this top secret box dedicated to whoever this Uta girl is.

A picture that stands out to you is one of Uta helping the baby- you- stand. You’re a little older here, roughly a year old it would seem. A quick glance at the back confirms your guess as correct, and that Uta is seven. She’s six years older than you. Since you no longer have the squished face of a baby just welcomed into the world, your features are actually recognizable. This is definitely you and not just some other kid named (Y/N).

The mystery unraveling in front of you is so engrossing that you’re deaf to the world around you. That is, until the door to the room is thrown open. Your heart leaps into your throat. Oh shit! Why is he back so soon?! You scramble to quickly but quietly pile your findings back into their box.

“(Y/N), I got you something in-” Shanks voice falls flat and stops abruptly in the middle of the sentence. No, no, no! How does he know something is wrong already?!

You didn’t close the dresser.

Before you can even begin to think of what to do next, Shanks drops whatever he was holding and closes the distance between you two and rips the curtain to the side. All you can do is shrink in on yourself and gawk at his furious expression.

The second his eyes land on the box in your hands, he snatches it into his own. He stomps away and slams it onto the dresser while hastily rifling through it. He hasn’t said a damn thing to you since the realization of what you did. 

Damage control, you need to do damage control, and fast. You move to stand, and utter out a quiet, “Dad?”

“Sit. Down,” his tone was sharp and left zero room for argument. He’s never spoken to you so coldly, even during your worst arguments. 

 All you wanted was to have a chance to explore the town, and now look where that has gotten you. This was a stupid mistake. Shanks and his crew were all you had, and now you’ve made a huge problem of yourself. What would happen to you if he decided you weren’t worth the hassle anymore?

You couldn’t help it. Between all the previous confusion mixed with his harsh treatment broke the dam and tears started to pour down your face. You sniffle loudly while furiously wiping at your face, and force out, “I-I’m sorry.”

With your head being in your hands, and your eyes clouded with tears, you have no hope of being able to gauge his reaction. Or see if he even cares enough to pay you any mind. Probably not, not when he’s this mad at you. 

Your bed dips from the weight of Shanks sitting down next to you. Without hesitation, you latch onto him, burying your face in his coat while sobbing out apologies. Anything to make him stop being so upset with you. Much to your relief, his arm came around your back and held you to him.

“It’s… fine. I wish you wouldn’t have done that, but it’s nothing to cry about,” his voice was strained, but held the warmth that had been previously absent.

Even with that, you needed time to calm down. While your dad being annoyed with your attitude was hardly a new occurrence, him being genuinely upset was. Frankly, you didn’t know how to deal with this, and you were still terrified about how much damage your actions just did.

Shanks didn’t say anything else, instead choosing to sit in silence with you. You couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse. Actually, you could decide. The lack of words was absolutely worse, but you didn’t know what to say right now either.

“Yassop told me you tried to sneak off the ship. Again.”

Nevermind. You wish to go back to silence. All you did in response was bury your face deeper into his coat while mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ for your actions. You were going to dump out that snitch’s booze stash later. 

His chest heaved with the sigh he let out, and his hand came up to pat your head, “I know that you don’t like this, I understand that, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t like.” There was a pause, but when you didn’t respond, he continued, “It’s for your own good. The world is a dangerous place.”

“But… But you’re an emperor. You’re the Red Haired Shanks. What’s the worst that could happen if we just go for a walk in town?” As far as you’re concerned, there’s no threat that your dad can’t handle, not to mention the rest of his crew. Even if someone is stupid enough to try something, they’ll deal with it.

He chuckled, but it was humorless, empty, “Just because I’m an emperor doesn’t mean that bad things won’t still happen. That bad things haven’t already happened.”

“Where is Uta?”

Bringing her up was risky, you knew that, but you need answers. You need to get to the bottom of why Shanks is like this, and this is the closest you feel that you’ve ever come to finding out.

Shanks became rigid at the mention of her name. The hand on your head was now squeezing, bordering on painful from how tight it was. You tried to wiggle away but couldn’t break his hold. 

“She’s gone.”

“She died?!” While you didn’t know what to expect, it certainly wasn’t that.

“No!” Shanks' hand dropped down onto your shoulder and wrenched you away from him. His eyes were wide and wild, “She’s not dead!”

You visibly recoiled from him, you can’t remember a time you’ve ever heard him yell. Once again, you can feel your eyes start to water and your lip tremble. God, what you wouldn’t give for this whole interaction to just be over already. Or for it to have simply never happened in the first place.

His face fell, and he looked away from you with a grimace. Mercifully, his grip had relaxed a bit and no longer felt like a vice on you. “Uta is alive and well, she just isn’t here. Not anymore.”

“Why not? Where is she?” You had more questions with every answer he gave, this wasn’t making any sense. What could have happened to result in her not being here? He wouldn’t just… abandon her. Would he?

“Because I wasn’t able to protect her,” his voice was so quiet that if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard him. “She needed to be left in someone else’s care for her own good. I wasn’t able to keep her safe, and that’s something that I will never let happen again. Not with you.”

“But what happened? I don’t understand,” you felt like you were simultaneously getting closer and also further from the truth. Nothing about this was making sense. There was a bigger story here, but he was seemingly hellbent on keeping his answers to you vague. 

“You don’t need to understand, you’re just a child. Do both of us a favor and forget about what you saw and what’s been said,” Shanks got to his feet, moving to leave not only the conversation, but also the room entirely.

You launched yourself off the bed and grabbed onto his arm, “Wait! You can’t just tell me to forget about this! I want answers!” You weren’t about to let him get out of this discussion so easily.

“Well, (Y/N), sometimes you don’t always get what you want. We’re done talking about this,” the way he spoke to you was slightly condescending. He turned to face you and crouched down to be at eye level, “How about you take a nap? Seems like you need one.”

You were getting on his nerves, that was a given, but you couldn’t up and let this go. Scoffing, you crossed your arms and glared at him, “I don’t need a nap, I’m not a baby.”

Shanks smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “Could’ve fooled me with the way you’re acting today.”

As much as you wanted to yell and be mad about what he just said, your mind went blank. You felt dizzy and like you couldn’t remember how to control your body. A second later, you stumbled and crashed into Shanks who caught you with ease.

Haki. He used Haki on you. 

Distantly, you registered being lifted off the ground. Your head was pounding and felt like it was packed with cotton to the point of bursting. A few steps later, you were dropped on a bed. You’re so out of it that you can’t even tell if it’s yours or his.

An attempt was made to say something, anything, but your tongue refused to cooperate. All you could do was stare up at the blurring form of Shanks helplessly, wondering why he would go to such an extreme over you asking a few questions. 

The last thing you remember is a blanket being pulled over you before everything fades to black as you’re forcibly thrown into a restless sleep. 

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 10

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

In all your years working in film, you couldn’t recall a single production that you weren’t looking forward to wrapping. And yet, here you were, the last week of filming, and you didn’t want it to end. Why would you? You’d never had this much fun on any other set before, the reason for which was currently in your bed, snoozing next to you. But it wasn’t just the fact that you were secretly sleeping with the star of the film, though that was a large part of it, you’d admit. 

Tom’s seemingly endless positivity as well as his intense passion for his craft was infectious. Practically everyone agreed that Tom was one of their favorite actors they’d ever worked with. So you knew that anyone you worked with going forward would pale in comparison. 

Your biggest concern, however, was how much time the two of you would be able to make for each other once you weren’t on the same schedule anymore. After all, you were both workaholics, not to mention Tom would have more opportunities to make other friends, so the possibility of the two of you drifting apart was very real.

“You okay?” Tom’s sleepy mumble pulled you from your thoughts. 

You turned onto your side to see that his eyes were still closed. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

He blearily opened one eye to look at you. “Your tossing and turning says otherwise.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No need to be sorry,” he replied with a yawn while he draped his arm over your waist and began lightly tracing patterns on your back. “What’s on your mind, Sweets?” Recently he began occasionally shortening ‘sweetheart’ to ‘Sweets,’ something you’d only heard him do with you.

You sighed, instantly feeling relaxed by his touch. “Just the fact that we’ll be wrapping soon.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned as he pulled you closer. “What on earth am I going to do without you putting your hands on me all day everyday?”

“I think you’ll survive,” you teased him. “I’ve got to give someone else a chance, haven’t I?”

He chuckled. “I haven’t even got my next project lined up and already you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else.”

“You were going to get bored of me eventually, Tommy. I’m only preparing for the inevitable.”

“How could I possibly get bored of you? There hasn’t been a single dull moment since this production started, for better or worse, and that’s largely because of you.”

“Well, unfortunately, it isn’t up to you or me whether we work together again or not.”

“I mean, I could potentially influence a director’s decision…”

“Absolutely not. You know the rules, Hiddleston. No professional favors.”

“Only joking, darling,” he defended. “But are you sure you’ll have time for me once you’ve started working on another film next week?” 

“Well, I’ve got to have some way to relieve tension after a long day, haven’t I?.” With a devilish grin, you leaned in and kissed him slowly and sensually.

“Unless you start a fling with one of your new clients,” he teased you once your lips parted.

Your mouth fell open in an incredulous gape. “I am nothing if not professional!” He gave you a skeptical look. “You are the rare exception.” When he opened his mouth to speak, you immediately added, “and if you mention Trevor, I will knee you in the dick!”

“I was simply going to say that I’m honored to be your rare exception.”

“Mhm. Sure you were.” You rolled your eyes. 

“So what exactly is bothering you then?”

You sighed. “Just anxious about starting a new job, I guess.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear and then slid his hand down your neck to your shoulder. “While I completely understand, I also know that you’ll adapt seamlessly to whatever is thrown at you. I mean, you had to deal with me of all people, so your next clients should be a breeze!”

“You know, you might be right. I’ve never met anyone who touches their hair and face more than you do.”

“Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with liking to touch and be touched,” he said, dragging the back of his index finger lightly across the skin of your breast and over your nipple.

“No, I suppose there isn’t,” you replied with a smirk. You bit your lip while your hand traveled down to his half-hard cock. “And here I thought you were still sleepy.”

“Well, we have to find some way to tire you out, now don’t we?”

…

The week flew by, and before you knew it, you were getting ready for the wrap party. Given how the last party went, you and Tom had decided that this time, neither of you would flirt with anyone, and you’d politely shut down anyone who tried. 

You were just putting on your earrings when you heard Tom pull up to your house in his jag. You quickly grabbed your clutch and met him outside. 

He was leaning against his car when he saw you walking out in your navy blue sundress with a plunging neckline. He raised his eyebrows as he looked you up and down. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go change.”

“What?” You looked down at your dress in confusion. “Why?”

“Because we agreed that we didn’t want anyone else flirting with either of us,” he began as he walked toward you. “And yet here you are looking absolutely irresistible.” 

You put your hands on your hips and smirked up at him as he approached you. “I’m sorry, but I get dressed up for me and no one else.”

“Well, if you won’t take that dress off then I guess I’ll just have to do it myself.” He gave you a sly smirk before taking your hand and leading you toward your house.

You giggled as you tried pulling him back toward the car. “Thomas William! We are going to be late!”

He let out an exasperated sigh and turned around to let you drag him to the car. “But that dress is coming off the moment we get back to my place tonight!” 

“Whatever you say, Tommy.” You winked at him as you got into the car.

…

When you arrived at the party, everyone was in good spirits, clearly excited to be finished with production. Tom, of course, was immediately summoned by several people to join them. He looked over at you as if he was torn between socializing and spending the whole night with you. 

“Go mingle,” you told him. “I’ll be at the bar with Kaitlyn.”

“Fine, but remember, darling,” he leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Tonight you're mine.”

It sent a shiver down your spine and heat to your core. “Oh really? Because I think you’ll find it’s the other way around,” you replied, and with a wink, you turned and headed to the bar, knowing he’d be watching you walk away.

“Well, don’t you look like a snack,” Kaitlyn said as you walked up to her. “Who are you hoping to go home with this time?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No one. I am not having a repeat of last time.” You sat down on the bar stool next to her. “Can’t I just look hot for the sake of looking hot?”

“Absolutely, you can!” Kaitlyn replied enthusiastically, raising her drink to you. “Though I do hope you’re prepared to be hit on at least once or twice tonight.” She giggled and took a sip. She was tipsy already.

“Then I hope whoever does is prepared for rejection.” You turned to the bartender who had just approached you. “Aperol Spritz, please?” 

“Are you certain there’s absolutely no one here who you’d spend the night with if he asked?” While taking another sip of her drink Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows while her eyes darted in the direction of where Tom was standing and then back to you. 

You scoffed. “Oh come off it, Kait. How many times do I have to tell you that we’re just friends.”

“As a person with the ability of sight,” she emphasized dramatically, “you cannot tell me you don’t want to climb that tree.”

That made you laugh. “Just because you fancy him doesn’t mean everyone else does too.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re right, I am, because it’s a silly question.” Again, you turned to the bartender who handed you your drink. “Thank you so much.” Kaitlyn opened her mouth to speak but you stopped her. “Look, Kait, can we just drop it? I just want to have a fun last hurrah with everybody tonight, alright?”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, like a child who’d just been told by their mum that they couldn’t have the candy bar they wanted.

…

After a couple of hours of socializing, swapping stories from on set, and occasional stolen glances between you and Tom, the pair of you ended up in the middle of a circular booth with Warren sat next to Tom, and Kaitlyn next to you.

“Ooh! Let’s play Truth or Dare!” Kaitlyn suggested excitedly.

“I dunno, Kait,” you hesitated. “Isn’t that game more for children and American frat boys? Not to mention we’re in public.”

“Oh come on! Live a little!” Warren chimed in. “Besides, if you don’t want to do something, all you have to do is finish your drink instead!”

You looked to Tom for back up. “Could be fun,” he shrugged. You raised your eyebrows at him, surprised he was on board with this idea. 

With a sigh, you conceded. “Alright, fine. But the minute it gets weird, I’m out.”

“Yay!” Kaitlyn cheered and clapped her hands. “Who wants to go first?” She looked eagerly around the booth. 

“I have one,” Warren said casually. “Tom, truth or dare?”

“I suppose. I’ll have to say dare,” Tom replied confidently.

“I dare you to deliver a toast to the whole room,” Warren began. 

Tom scoffed “Easy enough.”

Warren held a finger up, “But you must work the word ‘dildo’ into your speech.”

“I’m so glad we can play this game as mature adults,” you commented sarcastically. 

Tom thought about the challenge for only a few seconds before getting up to stand on his seat and deliver his toast, and it was magnificent. The entire room was captivated by the eloquence of his moving yet, at times, rather humorous speech. You even saw a few people tear up. The most impressive part to you, however, was how seamlessly he worked in his challenge word where you’d least expect it, and without anyone even batting an eye.

Warren stared at Tom in awe as he sat back down. “Are you just effortlessly good at everything?”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” you said, pointing your beer bottle in Warren’s direction. He nodded in agreement. 

Tom waved him off. “I’m rubbish at loads of things– maths being just one example– but the oral arts are kind of my specialty.”

While you almost choked on your beer and subtly kicked him under the table, Warren just laughed. “I‘ll bet they are!” 

Kaitlyn blushed. “Shall we continue our game?”

“Alright, Kait,” Tom said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she responded without missing a beat. “I have nothing to hide.”

“If you could go home with anyone in the club tonight, who would it be?”

Kaitlyn turned bright red, “Erm, on second thought…” and downed the rest of her drink.

The rest of you laughed and cheered her on as she chugged. Once she finished, you nudged her with your elbow. “Nothing to hide, huh?” You gave her a cheeky wink as she scowled at you. 

“Fine then,” she said, regaining her confidence and looking smugly at you. “Truth or dare?”

You smirked, knowing that if you said ‘truth,’ she’d ask you the same thing Tom had asked her, and you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss someone at this table.”

Warren and Tom both oohed scandalously, but you were unphased. Oh, innocent little Kaitlyn. You were willing to bet that she thought that Tom would be the clear choice, given that Warren was gay and you and Kaitlyn were both straight, but you were more than prepared to throw her for a loop. You looked round the table, as if you weren’t quite sure what you would do. Then, without warning, you kissed Kaitlyn full on the lips, being sure to show her what an amazing kisser you were, no matter who was on the receiving end. When you finally pulled away, she looked like a deer in headlights. You tipped your beer to her. “Ask and you shall receive, m’lady,” you boasted before taking a swig.

Tom and Warren both laughed, but you felt Tom’s hand briefly give your upper thigh a firm, lingering squeeze before retracting. Somehow you could tell that it wasn’t so much playful as it was possessive. It made you wet, and you weren’t wearing any panties. You crossed your legs and cleared your throat. 

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” Kaitlyn asked in awe.

You smiled proudly. “Loads of experience, my dear.”

“I believe it’s your turn, darling,” Tom interjected with what almost sounded like irritation.

“Right. Kaitlyn, truth or dare?” 

Her expression turned from awe to indignation. “What? But no one’s had a go at Warren yet!”

“You’ll have no complaints from me!” Warren assured with a chuckle.

Kaitlyn huffed. “Fine. Dare.”

“I dare you to finish one of those abandoned, half empty drinks over there.” You pointed to the vacant table across the room. 

She looked at the drinks in question with a grimace, which quickly turned to a look of determination. Then she stood up and made for the abandoned table.

“Atta girl!” you encouraged her.

When she reached her destination, she casually leaned against the high top table while she scoped out her options. 

“She’s not going to do it,” Warren said.

“Oh have a little faith, will you?” you chided him.

Sure enough, Kaitlyn chose her chalice and downed it in one gulp, wincing as she swallowed. You all cheered as she walked back to the booth. When she sat back down, Tom reached across you to give her a high five. “Well done, Kait!” When he settled back down, he draped his arm across the back of the booth behind you and you could have sworn he’d moved a little closer to you. Smooth, you thought. 

And on you went with the game, telling juicy, innocuous truths and doing silly little dares until Kaitlyn decided to switch things up a bit.

“I have a dare for all of us!” Kaitlyn announced. “Though maybe it would be considered a truth… Not sure. Anyway! Let’s do a round of Fuck, Marry, Kill!”

“Who are our choices?” you asked.

She looked at you as if it were obvious. “The people at this table, silly!” You wondered if she’d gone from tipsy to drunk at this point.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Tom asked Kaitlyn.

“It’s all in good fun!” she replied. “And I already dared you all, so you play or you drink! I’ll go first.” She looked around the table as she contemplated her answer. “Well, if that kiss was any indication, I think I’d fuck Y/n, marry Tom– because I think he would make the cutest hubby–” Yeah, she was drunk. “And kill Warren because I can’t fuck him or marry him, no offense.”

“None taken,” Warren replied.

“Who’s next?” Kaitlyn asked excitedly.

You sighed dramatically, “If I must.” You proceeded with the first thought that popped into your head. “Fuck Tom– because why not–” you began, hoping to sound as flippant as you intended. “–marry Warren so we can fuck whoever we like with no complicated feelings–” You and Warren high-fived. “–and kill Kaitlyn for making us play this horrid game.” 

“You bitch!” Kaitlyn gasped playfully.

Tom raised his hand slightly. “I’ll go next, if I may.” Suddenly you found yourself very curious and a bit anxious for his answer. “Between the three of you, I’d have to say, Fuck Warren– could be fun,” he added with a wink.

“Yes, Daddy!” Warren responded seductively. 

Tom chuckled as he continued. “Marry Y/n– because she’s my best friend, obviously– and kill Kaitlyn.” He turned to her. “Sorry love, but you were the only one left.”

While Kaitlyn looked thoroughly disappointed, you and Tom just laughed, though you felt something in your stomach that you couldn’t quite place. Meanwhile Tom’s ears, cheeks, and chest were bright red. Was he embarrassed? Whatever it was, it was pretty damn adorable.

“I guess that leaves me,” Warren said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “I mean, obviously I’d fuck Tom, but then I’m out, because whether I marry Y/n or kill her, Tom would kill me either way.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, I would absolutely kill you if you killed Y/n, but why do you think I’d kill you if you married her?”

Warren looked skeptical. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” Tom replied, only semi-convincingly. “In fact, I’d give you my blessing.”

“Looks like we have a wedding to plan,” you joked as you raised your beer bottle. “To me and Warren!” Tom and Warren joined in your toast, while Kaitlyn still sulked.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that all three of you said you’d kill me?” she interjected. 

You put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Aw, darling, you know we all love you. It’s just a game! One you made us play, I might add.”

“Can we just go back to Truth or Dare?” she pleaded. 

“Alright,” you conceded. The two men groaned. “But just one more.”

Kaitlyn immediately perked up. “I have one for you and Tom, actually.” Uh oh. “Truth or dare?”

At this point you didn’t know which would be worse. “Dare? I guess?” You looked at Tom for confirmation and he sheepishly shrugged. Then you looked back at Kaitlyn, wincing in anticipation for what was to come.

A devious smile stretched across her face. “I dare you to kiss each other.”

“Must you be so adolescent?” you complained, though, admittedly, you kind of saw this coming.

Before she could respond, Tom swiftly grabbed your face and kissed you hard on the lips. Your eyes went wide as soon as your lips made contact, but you quickly melted into it. Well, if you were going to do it, you might as well make the most of it and give everyone a good show. You climbed on his lap, his hands moving to your waist, and the two of you continued to snog shamelessly. All the while, not only were Kaitlyn and Warren clapping and cheering, but you realized the entire crew had stopped what they were doing and joined in the applause with various whoops and wolf whistles. Some shouting “Fucking finally!” while others gave you the classic “Get a room!” Without missing a beat, you and Tom both flipped everyone off without even coming up for air. 

When your lips finally parted, you did so with an exaggerated bravado, before turning to Kaitlyn. “There,” Tom said between panting breaths. “Happy now?”

She let out a squeal that made you and Tom flinch. “Are you kidding? You guys are the most adorable couple I’ve ever seen!” 

You let out an irritated sigh. “Yeah. Not a couple.” You looked down at Tom. “And I think that’s our cue to leave. Shall we?” 

“Right behind you,” Tom said as you climbed off his lap.

“Noooo,” Kaitlynn whined. “You can’t leave now!” 

You gave her a commiserative look. “Sorry, Kait. This was loads of fun, but I’m tired.” She folded her arms and pouted. “Make sure she gets home safe, yeah?” you told Warren before you and Tom made your way toward the door. 

“Oi!”  Warren called as he caught up to you. You and Tom turned around. “So how long have you two been shagging then?”

You both feigned confusion. “What? Pfft. That’s just… we totally aren’t…” you both stammered incoherently before quickly giving up. “Since the beginning of production,” you admitted in defeat. 

“I knew it!”

This time your confusion was genuine. “How?”

“My ex and I used to kiss the way you lot just did.”

You and Tom shook your heads. “Like Y/n told Kaitlyn, we’re not a couple,” Tom explained.

Warren chuckled. “A couple of idiots, more like,” he said, almost to himself. “Have a goodnight you two!” And with a wave he turned and walked back over to Kaitlyn.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” you wondered aloud as you watched Warren walk away..

“I don’t know,” Tom replied. “But I’ve had a semi since you got off my lap, so I’d really like to get back to mine so we can finish what we started.”

You snickered and gave him a playful shove before quickly walking out the door with him at your heels.

…

During the entire drive to Tom’s place he kept his hand on your thigh, like he needed to be touching you at all times, staking his claim. It was only making the heat in your core worse, and you found yourself getting wetter by the second. Finally, when you arrived in Tom’s garage you went to open your door, eager to get in the house, but Tom stopped you. 

“Stay right there, darling,” he told you. He got out of the car and walked around to your side to open your door for you, holding your hand to help you get out and stand up. As soon as you were standing and the door was shut behind you, his fingers tangled into your hair, bringing his lips to yours in a feverish kiss. You both sighed and whimpered, desperate to satiate the hunger you’d felt for each other all day. He pressed your back up against the car in an attempt to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into your hips. “You won’t believe how many men I caught staring at you tonight,” he panted between kisses. “It was infuriating.” 

“Is that why you did Kaitlyn’s silly dare and kissed me in front of everyone?” you asked as he began kissing your neck. 

“I had to show all of them who you belonged to tonight now didn’t I?” He lifted his head and smirked at you while he slipped one hand under your dress, his fingers grazing against your slick inner thighs until they found your naked slit, dripping with arousal. He tilted his head as his mouth fell open and his jaw jutted forward. “Had I known you weren’t wearing any panties, we would have left the party hours ago.”

You felt his middle finger glide through your folds and ghost over your clit, ushering a gasp from your lungs. Then you smiled. “And spoil the surprise? I think it was far more satisfying this way.”

Suddenly he crashed his lips against yours, your tongues tangling frantically. Reaching down between your bodies, you clamored to free his cock from his slacks. Once you’d done so, you slipped your hand in his pocket and pulled out the condom, effortlessly tearing it open and rolling it on without even looking. Tom then grabbed your legs and hoisted them up, hitching them over his hips before thrusting into you. The sound of panting, grunting, and moaning filled the garage as he rolled his hips relentlessly into yours. Your fingernails clawed at the back of his shirt, while he gripped your ass with one hand and fondled your breast with the other. Your moans grew louder with every thrust, his length gliding in and out of you at an angle that felt so incredible, it quickly sent you over the edge. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave a few final thrusts as you both came at the same time, gasping and moaning in time with each other.

After he stilled, you both stayed there for a moment, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths lingered in the air. Finally, he gently let your feet touch the floor again before resting his hands on your waist and lightly rubbing the tip of his nose across your cheekbone and temple. 

“I thought you said my dress would come off the moment we came back to your place,” you said, still catching your breath.

“Well, technically, we’ve not gone in the house yet,” he countered. “And I couldn’t have possibly waited another second before I had to have you.”

“That’s rather fortunate, because neither could I.” You giggled as he kissed you again, this time more slow and sensual. When the kiss ended he looked a bit dazed. 

“Now off you pop to the bedroom, Sweets. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly, @the-princess-of-loki, @princess-ofthe-pages, @darcylikesloki, @kikster606, @foxherder

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

Bound by blue ribbon

*not my GIF

Requested by: Anonymous - hiiii! If ya are still taking request!! Then may I get one of the ribbon scene from Rule of Wolves (I think???? I’m not surrrre) but it’s fem!reader x Nikolai? And instead of in her hair, it’s around her neck like a choker??

Just IMAGINE it with the classic character A walks down the staircase looking absolutely STUNNING and character B is s p e e c h l e s s trope! -

Dearest anon, I’m not sure I can properly convey just how much I loved this request. Like, you don’t understand, I am OBSESSED with how good this idea is! So much so that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to write anything that did it justice, but I tried my best. Hope you like it 🙏

Disclaimer (because I’m not looking to get sued): Some lines/dialogue directly borrowed from RoW, with a few minor changes. Obviously, I do not own those words and don’t claim to - they are the property of Leigh Bardugo and all rights belong to her and/or Netflix. Fanfic is for fun only; I am not making any money from this in any way.

Word count: 6Kish

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Dual POV, idiots in love, fluff, the teeniest smidgen of angst if you squint, A little triumvirate cameo, more Genya than anyone - because someone needs to get these idiots together, soft!Nikolai, minimal plot, fem!reader, smut, oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

The party to celebrate Nikolai’s saints day was going to be beyond anything Ravka had ever seen before. Lavish decorations were being put up, the palace kitchens were working on a complicated menu, and the best musicians had been hired to perform. Nikolai hadn’t wanted such a fuss, but the triumvirate had invited every eligible maiden in the country, and most of the neighbouring countries as well, insisting that it was the perfect occasion for the king to finally choose a bride. Which was exactly why you had decided not to attend.

Nikolai had been your best friend since childhood, and you had been in love with him for more than half that time. Over the years, as you had grown from a child into a young woman, you had hoped that maybe he might see you in a romantic light, but unfortunately that hadn’t happened. You didn’t hold it against him, in fact you treasured his friendship, and you wanted only the best for him. You just weren’t sure your heart could withstand watching him fall in love with someone else.

The day of the party, you kept to your room, feigning illness. Nothing too serious, just a headache that would prevent you from attending the party, so that Nikolai could meet the potential woman of his dreams without you having to witness it. Unfortunately, sitting alone in your room all day gave you endless time to think, and your mind was determined to linger on thoughts of Nikolai with some faceless princess. Before dinner, you decided to take a bath, hoping to distract yourself. When you returned to your bedchamber, you found Genya lounging on your bed, alongside a large box.

You stared at your friend, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “How did you get in here? And why are you here, shouldn’t you be at the party already?”

“Unimportant,” Genya said breezily, waving her hand as if brushing the question aside, “and yes, I should, but someone had to help you get ready.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she needn’t have bothered but she cut you off with a disapproving click of her tongue. “Don’t waste your time trying to convince me you’re ill, I know that’s a lie.”

“Fine,” you huffed, “but I’m still not going, even if I wanted to - which I don’t - I have nothing to wear.”

Genya gave you a sly smile, holding out the envelope she had hidden in her hand. It bore the royal seal, and was addressed to you, but it had already been opened.

“Have you been reading my private correspondence?” You questioned, irritation bleeding into your tone.

“Mmm,” she hummed, not sounding sorry in the slightest, “it seems the king has sent you a gift. How very thoughtful of him.”

You eyed her suspiciously as you pulled the note from the envelope. The message was short, just two lines, written in Nikolai’s familiar cursive.

~ I hope you’ll wear this tonight. Lantsov blue looks good on you. N ~

Your brow furrowed in confusion. That shade of blue was reserved exclusively for the royal family. The closest you ever came to wearing it was a baby blue silk ribbon that you used to tie your hair back every day. A ribbon you had stolen from Nikolai himself, many months ago. He had been using the blue silk to tie his invention blueprints, keeping the rolls of parchment together and relatively organised when he wasn’t using them. On that afternoon, you had been wearing your hair down, but it was hot in his workshop, so you had pulled your hair back into a braid, snatching up the ribbon to secure it. You had meant to give it back, eventually, but then you had forgotten, and soon it had become a part of your daily wardrobe. You hadn’t even realised he had noticed it.

Genya opened the box to reveal a beautiful gown of pale blue silk, overlayed with a layer of tulle, embroidered in a galaxy of sparkling silver stars. You moved closer, lifting it from the box to finger the delicate fabric.

“See, problem solved.” She announced smugly.

“I can’t wear the king’s colour,” you protested.

“Clearly, he wants you to,” she argued, “would you really deny him?”

You gave her a withering look, “You know full well that I would never deny him anything,” you grumbled, “but people will talk.

“So? Let them,” she shrugged.

You bit your lip, deliberating. On the one hand, the thought of Nikolai buying a dress specially for you to wear on his birthday made your stomach flip pleasantly, but on the other hand, you had already decided not to go to the party and a pretty dress wasn’t going to change your mind. But surely it couldn’t hurt to just try it on … right?

“Well, you have to try it on, at the very least,” Genya insisted, as if she had read your mind, “a dress this beautiful deserves to be worn.”

“Alright,” you conceded, “but just for a moment.”

Genya smiled widely, clapping her hands together with glee.

The second you stepped into the dress, soft silk slipping over your skin, you knew you had made a mistake. Genya laced the corset up with practiced ease and when she was done, she stepped back to admire you. She gasped as she took in the full effect of you in the dress, and as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror you could see why. It fit you like a glove. The colour complemented your skin perfectly and the fabric clung to you in all the right places, accentuating your waist and the curve of your hips. The sweetheart neckline was so low as to almost be scandalous, putting your breasts on full display. You wondered what Nikolai had been thinking when he picked it out. If he had picked it out. Either way, now that you had seen it on, you knew you had no choice but to go to the party. A dress like this demanded to be seen. Genya fixed your hair, sweeping it into an elegant updo and leaving a few curls to fall loose around your face. You kept your jewelry light, diamond earrings and bracelet to match the stars on your dress, but none of the necklaces you tried were quite right. You didn’t want anything that would draw focus from the gown. Genya suggested your hair ribbon, and when you fastened the light blue silk around your throat as a choker, she helped you to tie it into a simple bow at the back.

“Perfect,” she declared, lips curving into a smile, and as you looked yourself over in the mirror you thought she might just be right. The two of you walked together to the ballroom, but when you got there, she dropped you off in the queue of nobles waiting to be announced, insisting you should make a grand entrance. She slipped away before you could argue, muttering something about how she couldn’t leave David unattended any longer, lest he use the opportunity to retreat to his workshop.

You waited at the top of the staircase, just out of sight, as your name was announced. Your heart pounded as you made your way down the stairs. It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on you, but then you saw Nikolai, standing at the foot of the stairs as if waiting for you, and suddenly everyone else melted away. It was just you, and him, and his eyes on yours like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

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Nikolai was having a dismal evening. So far, he had suffered through what felt like a lifetime of conversations, the longest of which was with the Kerch ambassador, a pompous peacock of a man with an impressively large moustache and unfortunately low IQ, followed by a highly uncomfortable discussion about politics with both the Shu and Fjerdan delegates. To top it off, every time he managed to escape, Zoya would appear with a new princess for him to meet, each one less suited than the last, and he would be forced to spend several painful minutes listening to them talk about their own virtues, of which there were many, apparently.

It seemed like everywhere he turned was some ambassador offering him thinly veiled threats disguised as polite conversation, or one of his ministers trying to push their own agenda whilst they had him alone, or worst of all, another pretty, but vapid, young lady, waiting to be thrust upon him as a potential bride. In truth, he wasn’t interested in any of it, because all he found himself thinking about was you.

As the minutes passed, he started to worry that you wouldn’t come, that you would leave him to deal with the vultures all on his own. And more than that, he worried that he had overstepped with his gift. He had been full of confidence when he helped to design it, chosen every detail to compliment you perfectly, but now he was second guessing himself. Would you like the gown? Would you understand his meaning, about you looking good in blue? Would you return his feelings? He wasn’t sure.

He was contemplating this - whilst only half listening to one of his ministers drone on about the dangers of allowing farmers to have control over their own crops, when Genya suddenly appeared at his side. She politely excused them both from the conversation, pointedly ignoring the minister’s indignation at being interrupted, and looped her arm through Nikolai’s, pulling him away. She led him quickly across the room to stand near the bottom of the stairs.

“Stay right here.” She instructed him sternly, and Nikolai could only blink at her, perplexed, before she was gone, melting back into the crowd without even giving him a chance to respond.

He felt a prickle of annoyance at being ordered around, honestly, wasn’t he the king? He considered walking away just purely on principle, no matter how childish that might be, but then he heard your name being announced, and he wondered if Genya had known. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest, and when you walked out onto the staircase, he thought it might have stopped beating altogether. You were wearing the gown he had picked out, your hair curled and styled perfectly, and around your throat, that scrap of pale blue silk that haunted his dreams. Usually, you wore it in your hair, and it was eminently practical, but it had the unfortunate effect of making him want to untie it. Seeing it around your throat made that idea all the more appealing. You were stunning. He realised his imagination had not done you justice, could not even come close. The sight of you quite literally took his breath away.

He reached out almost automatically as you got near enough, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you down the last few steps.

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“Hi,” you breathed once you were standing face to face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but Nikolai just stared at you, slack-jawed, for what felt like an eternity. You began to fidget, feeling self-conscious.

“Do I look ok?” You asked, smoothing down your dress nervously.

He shook his head. “‘Ok’ would be a gross understatement,” he said, “You are a vision.”

Your face lit up in a smile, pleased at the compliment, and you could feel the warmth of a blush spreading across your cheeks. Nikolai dropped your hand, and you almost mourned the loss, but then he pressed his hand to the small of your back instead, and all you could focus on was that intimate point of contact as he led you away from the stairs and further into the room.

“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me,” Nikolai said, his mouth tipping up into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” you found yourself admitting quietly, “but then someone sent me this beautiful gown, and I changed my mind.”

“You like it?”

“I do,” you assured him, “Thank you. It’s a very generous gift, although it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be the one giving you a gift?”

“You deserve it,” he said, voice low in your ear, “and seeing you in this dress is a gift for me.”

You were sure you were blushing again. Was he flirting with you? Surely not, that had to be wishful thinking on your part.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, changing the subject lest you embarrass yourself.

“Yes,” he murmured as he took your hand again, leading you out onto the floor.

He held you close as you moved together through the steps of the dance, effortlessly in sync. You focused completely on him, enjoying the intimate feeling of being pressed against him, his eyes on yours and his hands warm on your body. Being so close to him was the sweetest kind of torture, and you quickly began to feel overheated, as your mind inevitably drifted to all the other ways you could enjoy being close to him, of his hands in much more intimate places. You looked around, trying to clear your head, and you realised that it hadn’t been just your imagination, people were staring, but you found that you didn’t care at all. As your eyes met his again, you were surprised to see that same feeling of desire reflected back at you. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking after all.

When the dance ended, he asked if you wanted to get some air, and you agreed, following him across the room and out into the hallway.

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Nikolai pulled you into an alcove, just off the main hallway. It was quieter here, with less chance of being seen or overheard.

“Genya and Zoya won’t be happy when they realize you’ve ditched your own party,” you told him, “They’re determined to find you a wife tonight.”

“I don’t care,” he said honestly, “and I’m not interested in any of those girls.”

“You must marry, Kolya. You can’t put it off forever,” you insisted, even though it pained you to say it. “You’ll have to choose someone eventually.”

“You’re the only one I would choose.” He confessed. The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.

You studied him carefully, your heart racing. “As your friend?” You asked, offering him a chance to right the ship, to take you back to familiar waters.

He could have lied, could have given you a hundred different easy replies. Instead, he said, “As my queen.”

“Because I’m dependable,” you said cautiously, tentatively, “or because I know all of your secrets?”

"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself." He said, and you huffed a laugh, convinced that any moment now he would take it all back.

“But I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."

You wanted to tell him that you wanted him too, that he was the only man you had ever wanted, or ever would want, but it wasn’t that simple. He was your best friend, and he was also your king, and you had to be practical. “As your friend, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision. You should make a political choice, take some foreign princess as your bride. Someone who was born to be a queen.”

He met your eyes, voice steady and earnest when he said, "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."

Nikolai felt drunk. You were going to laugh at him. You would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.

"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, as my friend, as my queen, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached out, fingers brushing over the blue silk ribbon tied around your throat. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon on our wedding day."

You should say no, you should tell him he was making a mistake, but you couldn’t. You wanted him too, and not just tonight, but forever. You wanted a future with him, and if you closed your eyes, you could see it, as clear as day. Standing at an altar set before the Saints as a priest named you man and wife. Mornings spent together, eating breakfast and sipping coffee while you discussed the day ahead, and nights spent tangled together in his sheets, sweaty and sated. Soft touches and words of affirmation whispered in the early morning light. Two - or maybe three - golden-haired children, with your eyes and his smile, running about the palace, happy and loved, and constantly getting into mischief. A million inside jokes, and shared looks, and fights about nothing, easily forgiven. A lifetime of moments, big and small, side by side with him. You wanted it all.

“Yes,” you said simply, meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” He repeated, as if he didn’t dare to believe it.

He cupped his hand to your cheek, his palm warm against your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheekbone, and when your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, his eyes followed the movement. You wanted him to kiss you, so badly that you ached with the need of it. You tilted your head up slightly, lips parted in invitation.

He dipped his head, then paused, lips hovering just inches from yours as he searched your eyes, waiting for permission. The heat of his gaze was like flames across your skin. You leaned into him, pressing a hand to his chest and you could feel his heart racing beneath your palm. “Yes,” you said again, barely above a whisper, and he bent his head forward, finally, touching his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and sweet, just the barest brush of his lips over yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You made a needy sound, chasing his lips when he moved away, and his mouth curved into a smile.

He pressed you back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips and then his mouth was on yours once more, and this time there was nothing tentative about it. His tongue met yours hungrily, desperately, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You grabbed a handful of his shirt, crushing the fabric beneath your fingers as you hauled him closer, but it still wasn’t close enough. You reached down with your free hand, tugging your skirts up so that you could curve your leg up around him and he groaned low in his throat, his hand immediately dropping from your waist to the bare skin of your thigh.

He pushed his hips forward, and you could feel the proof of his arousal, pressing against you intimately. You gasped, tipping your head back against the wall. He ducked his head, his tongue darting out to taste the smooth skin of your exposed throat, and he nipped lightly at your pulse point before trailing kisses down to the dip of your shoulder and along your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, teeth just barely grazing your skin, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion, wasn’t he doing that already?  

“I want to taste you,” he said, his fingers skating up and over your inner thigh to press at you lightly over the lace of your underwear. Oh. The thought of having his mouth on you, there, sent a wave of heat straight to your core.

“Yes,” you murmured after just a brief hesitation, and his smile turned wicked as he sank to his knees in front of you.

You hiked your dress higher, bunching the fabric above your hips so that you could watch him as he dragged your underwear slowly down your thighs and helped you step out of them. He stuffed the scrap of lace into his pocket, before he ran his hand up your calf, bending your knee and then lifting your leg to rest it over his shoulder. He kissed a path from your knee up your inner thigh towards your centre and then he stopped, warm breath ghosting over you and eyes fixed on your core, until you began to squirm. He stilled you with a firm hand on your hip.

“Nikolai,” you started, but you were robbed of the power of speech when he leaned in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

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He licked a broad stripe across you with the flat of his tongue and you gasped, your hand shooting down to fist in his hair. He licked into you slowly, nose bumping your clit, until you were writhing and panting above him. His fingers worked you over, drawing lazy circles over your clit as he explored every inch of you with his lips and tongue. He dipped two fingers inside you, moving them in and out, crooking them slightly to search for that spot that would have you seeing stars and he knew he had found it when you moaned, clenching around him.

Nikolai had always enjoyed this, drawing pleasure from his partner with his mouth and hands, and he prided himself on being good at it, but he had never found it such a turn on before. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he thought he could probably come untouched, just from the taste of you and the sounds you made. He turned his head for a moment to draw a ragged breath, and he smiled against your inner thigh when you whined impatiently, using your grip on his hair to drag him back where you wanted him.

He went easily, happy to oblige you, and this time he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it against his tongue. You cried out, your hand tightening in his hair hard enough to make his scalp prickle. He kept the pressure of his mouth gentle but non-stop, as your thighs began to shake, your hips jerking against his face. He couldn’t hold back his moan as he felt your body shuddering, his mouth flooded with wetness when you found your release. He worked you through it, lapping at you gently until finally, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He shifted from his knees back to his feet, and you reached for him as he stood, wanting to keep him close. His hair was sticking up at all angles, mussed by your hands, his cheeks flushed, and his lips tilted in a lopsided smirk. He looked utterly debauched in the best possible way. You swiped your thumb across his bottom lip before you leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, and you were surprised to find that it wasn’t unpleasant.

You reached a hand down between your bodies, to cup him over his pants and he groaned, pushing himself into your palm. A door opened somewhere, the sounds of the party drifting out into the hallway, and you froze, the illusion of privacy shattered.

The noise from further down the hallway brought Nikolai back to his senses so suddenly, he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. Had he completely lost his mind? Your first time together shouldn’t be like this, frantic and dirty, pushed up against a wall in a public place, where anyone could discover the two of you at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, “I got carried away, I shouldn’t have … this wasn’t…”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to find the right words. You deserved better from him. You deserved a white veil, and matching rings, and a promise made at an alter set before the Saints. He wanted to give you all of that, and he would, but not tonight. Tonight, he could at least give you a soft bed, and gentle hands, declarations of love whispered in the dark. Romance, because you deserved that if nothing else.

He pulled back, letting you drop your skirts down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You felt your face fall before you could stop it.

“Oh,” was all the response you could muster, the sting of disappointment sharp, and so bitter you could almost taste it. You closed your eyes, willing away the tears that threatened to form. Was he saying this was a mistake? Had he changed his mind? Had you done something wrong?

“I only meant, we should go somewhere more private,” he said, watching you carefully.

“Oh,” you said again, relief flooding through you.

“Unless… if you’d rather return to the party, that’s fine too.” He clarified.

“I don’t,” you said quickly, and you almost blushed at how eager you sounded.

“No?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.

You gave him a smile that you hoped was sultry. “No. Take me to bed,” you purred, and you knew you’d hit the mark when his eyes darkened in response.

He took your hand, guiding you through the palace hallways until you reached his rooms. He opened the door for you, ever the gentleman, allowing you to enter first, and then he followed you inside, locking the door swiftly behind him. There would be no more interruptions tonight, not if he could help it.

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You came to a stop by the foot of the bed, waiting for him to join you. He crossed the room in just a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms, and then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding. You let your hands roam, over his shoulders and into his hair, before the desperate need to feel his bare skin against yours took over, and you set to work on removing his clothes.

Your nimble fingers made light work of the knot in his cravat, pulling it loose and free of his collar in just a few short movements, and you quickly moved on to his shirt, opening the first few buttons. He pulled back for just enough time to yank the shirt off over his head, and then he was back to kissing you like his life depended on it. When you moved to unbutton his pants, your knuckles inadvertently brushing up against his hardness, he groaned low in his throat and pulled away again, this time to spin you around so that he could unlace your corset and free you from your dress.

He placed kisses across your shoulder, and down the length of your spine as it was revealed to him and once you were completely nude before him, he wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you back against him, his clothed arousal against your bare ass. You brought your hands up to your throat to untie your ribbon, but he stopped you. “Allow me, he murmured, voice low and rough in your ear. He hooked a finger into the bow at the back of your neck, tugging gently until it unravelled, soft silk sliding over your skin, and then he curled it up to put into his pocket, joining your underwear from earlier.

He cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak, while his other hand travelled down the side of your ribs and across your lower abdomen to your core. You moaned as his fingers found their mark, dipping inside you to gather the wetness there before rubbing gentle circles over your clit. Only once you were panting, your head falling back against his shoulder, and your hips moving in small circles along with his hand, did he nudge you in the direction of the bed. You took the hint, though you were loath to give up the delicious friction of his talented fingers. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed first, watching with bated breath while he took off the last of his own clothes.

Once he was undressed, you scooted backwards onto the bed, so that you were positioned comfortably on the pillows, and he climbed over you, covering the length of your body with his. You gasped as you felt his erection pressing against you, almost, but not quite, in the right place. He pinned one of your hands to the bed beside your head, fingers twining with yours as he dipped his head to kiss you, licking into your mouth until you were both breathless. You bent your leg up around his hip, opening yourself up for him instinctively and he kept his eyes on yours as he flexed his hips, entering you at an agonizingly slow pace. You were warm, and wet, and perfect, and you dug your heel into the back of his thigh, urging him deeper. He groaned, his eyes slipping closed and his hand squeezing yours tightly.

Once he was fully seated inside you, he had to stop. He let his head drop to your shoulder and he held completely still, desperately fighting to get a grip on his self-control. Late at night when he lay alone in the dark, his wildest fantasies playing out behind his eyelids, it was your face he saw and your name on his lips when he came. He had dreamed of having you so many times, in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the reality. It was as if he was suddenly a boy of sixteen again, green and eager, ready to spill himself at the slightest hint of friction. You shifted beneath him, wriggling impatiently and only once he was sure he would not embarrass himself, did he raise his head to look at you.

“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into an amused little smirk, “did you need something?”

You just barely resisted the urge to smack him, and instead clenched your inner muscles around him, watching with a smug sense of satisfaction as his eyelids fluttered, the smirk dropping from his face.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his eyes dark with arousal as they met yours, but he still didn’t move.

“Please,” you begged, and you would have been embarrassed by how needy you sounded if not for the way that his hips bucked in response.

He dipped his head, slanting his mouth over yours as he withdrew slowly, almost completely, only to fill you again with a sharp thrust of his hips. His hand was warm in yours, palms pressed together, and fingers intertwined, the connection anchoring you as he started to move in earnest, settling into a perfect, maddening rhythm that was somehow altogether too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

The muscles in his biceps were straining with the effort of holding himself up and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him down on to you until his chest was flush with yours. He nuzzled at your throat, as he maintained his languid pace, drawing out your mutual pleasure for as long as he possibly could, and you were torn between the desperate need to climax, and the desire to stay entwined with him like this forever.

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When he felt the beginnings of his own climax, Nikolai reluctantly released your hand so that he could slip his between your bodies to thumb at your clit. Within moments, he felt you tightening around him, your orgasm beginning to ripple through you, and he kept the movement of his hips slow and steady, drawing it out until you were writhing beneath him. He removed his hand as the last tremors ran through your body, and he lifted his head, mouth finding yours, as he finally allowed himself release. He sheathed himself fully inside you, as he shuddered and came.

He collapsed onto you, pressing you into the mattress, and you stroked your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies were tangled together, completely enveloped by each other, and neither of you wanted to move.

“I love you,” he murmured after a moment, turning his head so that he could press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you too,” you assured him, holding him tighter.

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In the morning, you had woken early and taken the opportunity to study Nikolai in the light of the sunrise, his face relaxed and boyish in sleep, and when he woke, he had nudged you onto your back and made love to you again. That had been followed by a bath, in which you both ended up dirtier than you had been upon getting in, and a second one - strictly for getting clean, and one horrifyingly awkward conversation with your maid, during which the girl giggled and blushed furiously, as you begged her to bring you something to wear. All of this meant that it was late, long past noon, when the pair of you finally emerged from his room.

You walked hand in hand to the council room, where the triumvirate were already assembled. Genya and Zoya were standing over the table, heads bent as they looked over a map, talking quietly together. David sat across from them, scribbling away, fingers stained with ink. Genya lifted her head as you entered, smiling knowingly at you.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “I… well, we, have something important to tell you all,” he announced. “We’re getting married.” Subtle as ever.

“Thank the Saints,” Zoya muttered, without even looking up, “I thought I’d be old and grey before you two ever got your act together.”

“I told you it would work!” Genya said gleefully.

You and Nikolai shared a confused look. “What worked?” You asked.

“The party,” Zoya explained, speaking very slowly, as if she were talking to a pair of particularly dim children, “the one we planned, to push you both into admitting you’re in love with each other, obviously.”

You both just stared at her.

“Someone had to do it,” she continued with a shrug, “Saints knows neither of you were going to do it on your own.”

“I would have done it without your intervention,” Nikolai said defensively, “eventually.”

“Yes, of course you would,” Genya said mildly, her tone just on the edge of patronising.

Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. “So, just to be clear - you conceived an elaborate plot, which involved throwing an expensive party with hundreds of guests, and making me suffer through hours of mind-numbing conversation with prospective “brides”, all so that you could manipulate us into confessing our feelings for each other?”

“I wouldn’t say manipulate,” Genya objected, “more like give you a loving shove in the right direction.”

“A brilliant plan, really,” David piped up, “and, clearly, effective.”

Genya smiled fondly at him. “Thank you, dear.”

And suddenly it all made sense, the way Genya had come to insist you go to the party, the way she had pushed you to wear the dress even though it was Lantsov blue, the fact that she had made you wait to be announced, and that Nikolai had mysteriously been waiting for you the moment you entered the room. The mysterious coincidence that all the young ladies Zoya had introduced to him were almost comically unsuitable. They had engineered it all.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread over your face. Perhaps you should have been upset by the idea that they had manipulated you both, but honestly you weren’t. You shared another look with Nikolai. He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now too, and you knew he shared your feelings on the matter. This whole charade might have been ridiculous, but how could you hold it against them, when it had resulted in the happiest night of your lives.

[devieuls]

My Neighbor

Hawks x Fem Reader ! smut ¡

Warnings :  dirty talk, arrogant Hawks, teasing. Explicit content 18+ MDNI

Synopsis : Your friendly, sweet neighbor, loved and adored by everyone, has been taking your sleep away for months because of his occasional sex session with strangers. So one night, tired of the situation, you show up at his door...

Length :  3k+

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It had been months since your nightmares first started. Your new neighbor was this, a nightmare that kept you from sleeping at night because of his adventures with strangers, and unfortunately the only one who could complain about it was you, 'cuz your bedrooms were snug and evidently his bed was attached to your wall, causing hammering every time he fucked a woman, but on the bright side, the sweet old lady from a few doors away supported you, even though she was a gossip granny and told all the intimate gossip of others.

You couldn’t deny that your mind had flown into ungodly thoughts, after all that bumping into the wall couldn’t make you think of anything else. He took your sleep away, so why not fantasize about him?

After all, he was a handsome man, tall, golden eyes, hair the color of the sun, lips more than delicious, a beautiful body and those scarlet wings that sprouted from his back, making him something ethereal, almost an angel. His personality was no different, always available to everyone, no wonder he was a much loved Hero, he had almost princely ways to do that made him adored by anyone.

In public you looked at him quite badly, and you had scolded him several times for his behavior, too bad that with those honey eyes and that smile made you melt and forget to be angry with him. Sure, he apologized every time, promising to keep it down, but he obviously forgot every fucking time.

Just like tonight.

Your eyes on the ceiling, sighing in frustration and hands joined together on your chest, praying that he would remember his promise and go easier on the new girl, just not to bother you. Unfortunately, that was not the case. You had to suffer the screams of pleasure and moans of the girl, while the wall almost threatened to collapse because of the bed that kept crashing.

< Shit! Can you just keep it down? > You said aloud, complaining about the sounds, then covering your ears with the pillow, hoping to look after his, even if a little. After about an hour and a half the sounds had stopped, you didn’t know exactly what gave you the courage to get up to knock on his door, but you were really tired and he had to see that you didn’t sleep anymore because of him.

Once you opened the door to your house, a staggering girl walked past you with ruffled hair and a little dress that barely stayed in place. You sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing that surely that girl had come out of your "friendly" neighbor’s house.

You knocked on his door and then crossed your arms to the chest evidently angry, after a few minutes the boy opened the door and smiled genuinely, almost innocently.

< What brings my lovely neighbour to my door? > He said with a hoarse and breathless voice, leaning against the door frame with one arm, towering above you.

And there was the moment when your convictions to rebuke him fell. His chest was naked, sweat gleaming on his sculpted physique and against light was even sexier than the vision; gray sweatpants and relaxed wings behind him; his hair messy and ruffled, with some strands on his face, slightly covering the predatory eyes he had; the mocking smile and that tone of voice...

No, you couldn’t give in just because it’s sexy, you can see beyond, you have to see beyond.

< Keigo. Let’s not start with this bullshit, you know very well why I am here. You have done it again, I’m tired of not being Able to sleep because you have to fuck every night. It’s your house, you can do whatever you want, but I need to sleep. Tomorrow is my day of rest and I was going to sleep to go out,  but if you stop me from resting, I have to spend the day in bed to recover the hours of sleep > You said angry, and then put your finger on his chest  < Really. Stop, at least slow down. It’s not normal that at this time of night you kept me Awake. It’s disrespectful, you’re rude. > you ended up angry, trying not to be distracted by his body.

Keigo laughed and tilted his head to the side, watching you pointing your finger at his chest. He bit his lip and leaned forward to get closer to you; his eyes went down on your body and noticed how you were dressed. You wore a two-piece suit in burgundy satin and lace and a robe of the same color you wore over just to cover the exposed parts.

< And you tell me this in that outfit, darlin' ? > He said smirking, making you back up and cover yourself with your robe, slightly red on your face.

< This is supposed to be pajamas and I should use it to sleep, which you obviously don’t, pretty bird. > you said in a provocative tone, making him laugh.

He made you back up until you touched the wall with your back, locking you in that spot because of his arms. You shuddered to feel like a bird in a cage, no matter how sexy the cage was blond.

< Such a waste to use to sleep, when someone might appreciate it more than your bed > replied.

He held a hand on your side and approached your neck, biting his lip again when he saw that you did not resist and that her touch caused you chills. < Are you sure you came to me to scold me? Or did you want to take the place of that girl. >  his voice was arrogant and mocking as he blew on your neck.

You really wanted to scold him, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want to replace the girl or the girls from the previous nights.

< Birdie, don’t get ahead of yourself. I came to complain about you, not to let you fuck me. >  you said bitterly, and then slightly away from him by placing a hand on his chest.

< You don’t seem to mind my touch. Princess, if you wanted to try me, you could have just asked>

< You’re so fucking cocky, Keigo. >

< Don’t pretend you’re sorry, y/n. I’m sure you’re already getting wet right now, but you’d rather be snooty, the one who wouldn’t let me touch her > He took you by the hips and drew you closer to him < When we both know that you would like what I have to offer you > he said blowing words on your lips, caressing your hips.

You looked away blushing, shit! if he was right. He moved a hand over your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. His eyes were ravenous, lustful, and he was eating and swallowing you.

You’ve never seen him so bold and perverse before, so you shuddered at every touch or word, sighing heavily and gasping.

You froze on the spot when you heard a door opening and steps coming out of that place < Who’s there? > said a voice, just that of the gossipy grandmother. You wanted to die, would not talk about anything else for months. How she found you "half-naked" in the hallway of the building with a man, inflating it to make it more outrageous.

< Go back to your fucking house. > Keigo growled hard, then looked at her badly and made the old woman wince that protested returning to her house. You bit your lip when you saw this rough part of blondie, maybe this was one of the few things you wouldn’t expect from him.

His gaze returned to you and you felt so small, a prey in the jaws of his predator. < Where were we, birdies? > He said in a softer voice than the previous one, but always in mischievous tones.

Instinctively your hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him towards your lips, making you two collide. You started immediately a ravenous and wet kiss, while he took you by the thighs to wrap them in his life.

He took you inside his house, closing the door thanks to your body that now stood against the woody and smooth surface. Your hands moved between his fluffy hair and pulled them slightly making the boy moan, you panted when Keigo tightened his grip on your things, and you bit his lip slightly almost instinctively.

The blond broke away from the kiss,  leaving a thread of drool between you two, and then interrupted it when he began to kiss your neck and leave small bites and hickeys. You groaned under those rough but well-balanced attentions, his fluffy lips made you feel so wet already, and the fact that you were squeezed against the wall by his toned body didn’t help to alleviate the feeling he was having in you.

Your bodies were warming up in unison as the boy began to descend on your breasts, blowing warm air over them, so many little chills ran through your body. His nimble fingers went to remove the bows on the side of your top, taking it off immediately after to lick your already hard nipples, he laughed as you trembled under his attentions.

A slight groan leaves you as his mouth began to suck that sensitive spot, the sound went straight to Keigo’s dick, the blood flowing towards the tip making it pulsate from need. The touches are anxious, hungry and hasty, probably even bruises. You got goosebumps, as your hands glide through his golden locks of hair, your hips bend against him.

A low groan escapes his lips as his hands roam your body, gliding over your curves and under your fragile shorts.

< Damn it, babybird, If you keep this up, I’m not sure I can contain myself... > he said holding his mouth over your nipple, making you moan and arch your back against him.

< Then don’t do it... > you answered breathlessly.

He took off from your breasts and climbed back to your lips, beginning yet another desperate and needy kiss as you moved to his bedroom. He laid you on his mattress and began to wind his hands all over your body, touching, stroking and touching it, while his lips ate your voraciously.

He took off right after, breathing hard and looking at your body underneath him. He took your legs and opened them to comfortably get in the way. Your toes slightly lowered his pants, letting him know he had to take them off. So he did, he took them off for you.

< Birdie, do you use protection? > he asked passing a hand through his hair, while a hand stretched towards his bedside table to retrieve a condom.

< Internal contraceptive. In case, I’m clean and- > Your breath stopped to see his cock already ready for use, hard and pulsating, pleading for attention.

< I’m sure you are, don’t worry, Kid.> he said, stopping you from giving him any explanation.

He opened the wrapper of the condom with his teeth, then threw away the plastic and put on the protection. He stood above you, beginning to kiss your wrist, going down your arm. Your body sent electric shocks to your now impatient core as you beamed at its sudden delicacy.

< I promise to be nice to you, I don’t want to hurt you. > You didn’t quite understand why he would be gentle with you, but he never had a problem banging the others until they screamed.

< Please don’t treat me any differently. I want to hear what you gave the others. I deserve it. > You said you were confident. He smirked and left a bite on your wrist, making you wince.

< fuck! > came out of your lips, then pull his hair and make him unbalance to the side.

You shoved him on the mattress and you put yourself on top of him, his hands landed on your naked hips because of the split shorts, which let you see the absence of the briefs. Keigo bit his lip and relaxed under you, tearing off your brittle shorts, remaining completely naked.

< I could even let you ride if you need for you, babybird > said grinning.

< Yeah, I need it. > You answered firmly.

Your hands wandered over his chest, rubbing your intimacies. Your breaths filled the room, as your hand slid over his body to take his intimacy in hand. You sat down when your hand accompanied his dick inside you, sliding into your wet walls.

Keigo moaned with pleasure in feeling inside you, you were so hot, pulsing and craving that your pussy was sucking his cock, making him enjoy it like few people before you. Your back arched towards him as your hips swayed over his parcel, filling you up so well.

The blond bit his lip as he squeezed your hips and guided you over him. One of his hands went to meet your pussy, looking for the clitoris to give you more pleasure; you were amazed when he found it immediately and immediately began to sink with his soft fingers.

You moaned like the worst bitch as you hopped on him and pushed your hips against his fingers to get more.

< So impatient, babybird? You like riding my dick so much. > he said mocking you. Your mind was already drunk because of his cock so good and perfect for you.

It’s been a long time since you fucked and getting back on track with a dick like that was just great. Your hands ended up one on his chest and the other on his neck, slightly tightening his grip, not enough to make him feel something but enough to make him harder under you.

You felt tired after a while, it was hard to stand on top of him when his fingers were playing with your clitoris and his dick was pumping inside you so hard, even though you were riding and deciding the shots to give.

Keigo almost understood your tiredness and promptly brought you under him, changing position to favor your orgasm. He put a pillow under your back and when he came back to you it was like the first time. A groan came out of your lips, clinging to his back with your nails, leaving slight cuts caused by your pleasure scratches.

He laughed at your reaction and started pumping into you so fast you couldn’t breathe properly anymore. Only rough and dirty groans came out of your lips as his bed began to slam repeatedly against the wall.

< We should slow down, the neighbor will complain to me again if I continue like this >  He said teasing you, then slowing down. Your breath was labored, your mind was clouded, and a little scream of frustration came out of your lips.

< You never cared about the neighbor. Go on like you were doing before, fuck. > You answered sour, completely kidnapped by lust. The heat was focused on your lap as the boy slowed down on purpose.

He came up to your face, grabbed you by the neck and picked your jaw with his thumb.

< Baby, you really don’t get it? I wanted to do what I did. Look at you now, you’re in my bed getting the dick you cursed at night. > He said by making a deep blow in you, making you arch your back and moan. < I knew we would end up here one day. > the grin on his face made you bite your lip.

You punched him in the shoulder and he came out of you. He took your hips and put you on doggy style for him, your crossed hands locked against your back and face on the pillow.

He came back in and made you scream with pleasure. You started drooling against the smooth fabric of the pillow, as the man slammed his hips against you faster and faster, leaving a few spanks every now and then, his nimble fingers found your clitoris again and started playing with it again with a speed never experienced.

Your legs were shaking like your whole body, you could swear you were moaning and screaming louder than anyone else in his room. His wheezing and hoarse moans made you feel so relaxed and smug. After a few lunges with your hips you both came together, reaching a liberating orgasm.

Keigo left your hands, stroking your palms, going down to your body to help you lie on his mattress, then hear a strange squeak followed by a "Crack!".

Your eyes were wide open when you realized that the bed had broken and the guy next to you burst into a loud laugh, bringing his arm to cover his eyes.

< My sweet neighbor will be happy to never hear from my bed now that it’s broken. > He said laughing, mocking you.

< Stop! > You said blushing, then hiding in the mattress, turning on your stomach. < You’re not funny, stop! > You continued with a trembling voice.

The blond took you from your hips and approached him, stroking your hair and carrying a lock behind your hair. He kissed your neck gently and wrapped his arms around your soft hips. < Baby, I was kidding. My neighbor can’t complain if she broke my bed. He said, blowing words on your ear. < Now you still have to catch up on your sleep in the afternoon. > continued to tease you.

< Stop... You had already taken away my sleep, at least I spent my time well. > You snorted while you moaned because of his wet kisses.

< So will you stop reproaching me for my nighttime encounters? > he asked, putting his face on your neck.

< No. I still need to sleep at night, so do you. > You said and then turned to face, put your hands on his face and smiled. < You obviously need to rest, you work a lot too, you don’t need to fuck every night, yk. >

< Not even if I wanted to do it with you? It’s a good anti-stress > he answered looking at you with those honey-colored eyes, letting you melt with tenderness.

< But don’t ask me like that, not with those eyes... You got soft, biting your lip. Maybe, but I say maybe, I could agree... sometimes > you ended up getting a gentle kiss from him.

After a couple of minutes of kissing you, the guy pulled away slightly from you and stood by you, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling, and you did the same.

< So... are you the guy who sends away the girl after having fun or... > you started interrupting the silence between you < ... I mean, I’ve seen so many girls leave your house right after. I can go too if.. >

He interrupted you and looked at you < Stay. I don’t like to keep strangers in the house, but I don’t want to send you away, stay... really. I want you here > he said stroking your cheek.

You smiled and approached him, resting your head on his chest, falling asleep shortly thereafter. Keigo stroked your head with a smile, softening at the sight of you on his chest.

< If only you knew I liked you from day one. I’m so glad I got you, even for one night, the best birthday present of my life. >  whispered in the air, leaving a kiss on your head and falling asleep afterwards.

--------------------------AUTHOR'S NOTE--------------------------------------------------------

I’m always late, even publishing Hawks' smut for his birthday.

Best wishes to our favorite winged hero! I hope you enjoyed the story. This is a one shoot, so I won’t continue, sorry.

Remember that requests for any character are open, of all kinds and types.

Oh, and best wishes to all my wonderful readers!

Thank you for reading,

- Mel

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 4

(a NSFW multi-part ficlet)

Normally, Eddie would be gone by the time he awoke, and his wallet would be a small chunk lighter. This time, Steve awoke relaxed and content to the smell of bacon sizzling on the fryer, bed still warm, a few stray brown hairs on his pillow, the night shirt Eddie had eventually draped over his tired head and slept in now draped over the chair on the far side of the room, usually pushed in beneath a large mahogany ornate desk he’d been gifted a few years prior.

He stretched his arms up, and his feet out, muscles relaxed, body relaxed, everything felt just… right.

This was what he wanted to wake up to, he knew he’d once in the very early days of their “relationship” told Eddie to leave before his alarm, he normally had engagements in the morning he needed to see to, calls to make that he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping in on, but over time… he desperately wanted to take that request back.

He just didn’t know how to without making it painfully obvious that his feelings had developed far beyond an employer/employee relationship.

He wanted Eddie there in the morning, wanted him in his kitchen, making breakfast, or even just sat on his sofa watching early morning TV eating cereal in pyjamas, he just… he wanted him there.

Maybe that was pathetic, he didn't care.

Shaking himself up a little, Steve climbed out from beneath the toasty warm covers, once stood, he stretched again, he had no early morning commitments, a follow up call in the afternoon to ensure his meeting the night previous yielded promising results, no sense beating someone to a bloody pulp if it didn’t get him exactly the result he needed.

He needed things working properly again, the man in question had been working beneath the radar, or rather, he’d ASSUMED he was working beneath the radar, syphoning profits, business contacts, easing them into a small startup of his own, trying to build his own empire out of the success of someone else’s.

It was a good idea, just executed very poorly. Trusted the wrong people, tried to sway the loyal, knowing their skills and abilities, skills and abilities built from years of working with the Harrington family.

He’d attempted to sneak them away with the promise of a higher take percentage, rather than simply hiring his own men and building from the ground up.

All it took was one of them to come forward and shine a light on the guy and the jig was up.

Unfortunately, all four of the men, and the two women he attempted to sway, came forward WITH evidence, including text messages, phone call recordings, and pictures.

Had he started from the ground up, perhaps took his business to Steve himself, requested assistance getting it started, he might have given it, supported him and his endeavours to create something for himself, but alas, he chose the slimy way to go about it, and paid the price.

He didn’t want to think about that right now though, he wanted to think about the man in his kitchen, the man currently listening to the quiet playthrough of morning radio as he cooked breakfast. Wanted to watch him from his bedroom door, lean against the frame in naught but his underwear, shame Eddie was fully dressed, but alas.

Couldn’t have everything.

“You could’ve woken me up” he spoke up from his spot by the doorframe, Eddie startling out of his focus on the pan in hand to look up, across the countertop, across the open plan living room to the doorway that lead into Steve’s room.

“Your alarm never went off, I figured you had the day off or something?” Huh, did he forget to set it? Hm, no matter, he didn’t need it that morning anyway, usually he just set it to keep a routine going. Steve pushed off from the doorway, stepping into the open living room, well-lit by the floor to ceiling windows lining the outside wall. “I was gonna bring you breakfast” Steve was soon by his side, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s soft cheek.

He didn’t seem too bothered by it though, eyes refocusing on the task at hand “Eddie after dawn and breakfast in bed, I feel spoiled” that gained a smile, small, his dimples barely even visible, but a smile nevertheless, good… but something felt off.

Maybe it was simply… having him there in the morning? Was that the difference? He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Go on, sit down y’big sap, breakfast will be ready soon, I need to talk to you about some stuff” stuff? He was halfway turned around ready to go sit down when the ‘stuff’ hit his ears, what stuff… Eddie never had stuff he needed to talk about, the last time Eddie brought up stuff it was during the initial conversation two years ago about how their ‘relationship’ was going to go.

What was allowed, what wasn’t allowed, what he could expect, what would mean instant termination of their contracted agreement, prices… Eddie very rarely brought up ‘stuff’.

“Stuff?” He had to ask.

“Yeah, stuff, go on, sit down” he wasn’t going to elaborate yet, fine, this was fine, it wasn’t like the anxiety was already spiking, funny how a man in his line of work, strong and sometimes seen as a little larger than life, still had spikes of anxiety at even the slightest inconvenience.

Felt his heart race uncomfortably in his chest, thump erratically as if something was guaranteed to be wrong and he couldn’t fix it no matter what he did.

Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt him? No… he didn’t hurt him, he seemed fine, no bruises other than a hickey currently half hidden by the collar of his shirt, matching all the others he’d left in the late hours, mid-clean up simply revelling in the softness of Eddie’s pale, porcelain skin against his lips, he was fine last night.

Had he done something in his sleep? No, that was stupid, Eddie wasn’t actually his boyfriend, he’d never hold any dream shit against him, and even if he WAS his boyfriend, he doubted the other man would ever be that ridiculous.

“Steve?” Steve jumped as Eddie’s voice sounded from right behind him, he’d frozen, mind withdrawing into all the possibilities as to what ‘stuff’ could mean, all the negatives, maybe he knew.

Maybe he’d found one of the guns in the apartment last night, hadn’t known how to bring it up until now, maybe he’d been contacted by someone, fuck what if that slimy little shit had approached Eddie?

He’d been so CAREFUL not to share that part of his life with Eddie, he didn’t need to know where the money came from, he never asked, all he knew, and all he needed to know, was that Steve was at the very head of a corporation which dealt in manufacturing defensive gear for the military.

He knew he had his hands dipped in several charities, that his company had even helped get a few off the ground.

He didn’t need to know there were other sides to his business life, didn’t need to know that the contracts gained from the military were only a fraction of his full wage, didn’t need to know where the other much larger percentage came from. “Stevie, hey, c’mon, sit” Eddie turned the heat off, spatula down on the counter he eased Steve’s much broader body into his arms, guiding him over to the sofa to sit him down.

“W-what… what do you mean by ‘stuff?’” Eddie’s eyes seemed to flash wider for a second, just split second as he realised just what the sudden frozen panic was about.

“Fuck… okay, I was hoping to do this while you were, I dunno… fed an fully dressed I guess” would be easier that way “hey, c’mon calm down” Eddie crouched in front of his seated form, hands on his biceps just holding him steady “do you need water? Want me to finish the food for you? This is why I wanted you fed first” clearly he still cared about him… fussing over him, making sure he was okay, but… something was wrong, and Steve had no idea what it was.

“No, no just… just tell me” he would have preferred to eat first, the nervous thumping of his heart was really starting to hit the empty stomach, that harsh weight at the back of the throat when hunger was really starting to get intense only worsening with the nerves.

It was fine, totally fine, everything would be okay.

“Alright” Eddie nodded his head, rising to his full height before sitting right back down again beside Steve on the couch, hands in his lap leaving the spots on his biceps where they were moments ago feeling colder all of a sudden, Eddie didnt even run warm, just... his touch just warmed Steve.

“Due to extenuating circumstances, I am effective immediately, terminating the contract between us… I have taken payment for last night already, I won’t take anything for this morning, I think… I think it’s time we ended this arrangement before things become too complicated… don’t you?”

Part 6

[jellieland]

Cub is starting to feel like he isn’t a very popular person at the moment.

It’s odd. People give him wary looks, and step back when he steps closer, and politely end conversations with him. But everyone seems very hesitant to actually say anything about whatever it is that’s bothering them so much.

It's true that it is, on occasion, a little difficult to concentrate on what people are saying. His hearing has been a lot sharper recently, especially with the extensions of himself that he’s placed around the server to help spread the skulk. But unfortunately, given how widespread they are now, it has become quite difficult to concentrate on any specific sounds – even, on occasion, those being made right in front of him.

Still, even without any specifics, he’s been starting to get the feeling that he isn’t exactly… welcome, here.

He’d seen False, the other day, in Hermitopia. As far as he can tell, she’s appointed herself as protector of the hermits. He doesn’t think she’s consulted anyone else about this.

Not that he needs any protecting, obviously. Why would he? He can take care of himself.

But that… look that she’d given him. He’d almost turned around, at first, as though she might be looking at someone behind him.

There was no need for that, though. If there was someone behind him, he’d have heard them.

False, though. Back to False.

He’d never seen her look at him like that before. Not even in the worst moments of the Convex.

It was a calculating look. As though every moment, she was considering the best way to strike, and weighing it against the danger of overextending herself. The kind of look you might give an unnervingly powerful mob, perhaps. But one he'd never seen her give to Doc, or to Cleo. The kind of look you give to something other.

“Hey, False!” He called, and smiled.

Her eyes narrowed. “Hey Cub.” Her voice was controlled and level. “What’s up?”

“Oh not much, not much. Just the usual – spread the souls, spread the skulk, you know how it is.” He held out a few skulk catalysts. “Care to join me?”

“I… No. No, I’ve got- other plans, sorry.” She took a step back, but kept her eyes fixed on him. “Why don’t you… go do that, then.”

He shrugged. “Sure. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” It was harsh. Sharp. After a moment, she seemed to realise this. “I mean- fine. I’ll let you know.” It was less a peace offering to a friend than it was a deliberate concession to an enemy. He knows how to tell the difference.

“Good, good. That’s good to know.” Just because she’d decided she didn’t like him anymore for some reason, didn’t mean he had to follow suit.

She watched him from a distance, eyes like ice, until he left.

She watched him like a tightly wound spring, like a coiled snake.

But she did not strike.

So, yeah. That has been a little odd.

He thinks that if it weren’t for his newfound lease on life recently, that incident would have rattled him. So it’s a good job he doesn’t have to worry about that.

It still seemed worth investigating, though, if it made people less willing to embrace the skulk as they should.

So then, there was the incident with Xisuma.

This one, he thinks, was the most confusing of the lot.

There were some more looks – some from Jevin, Oli and Sausage as well – when they fought the withers together.

He was fairly confident that Xisuma wasn’t the biggest fan of the skulk. At least – he had been fairly confident.

But it wasn’t Cub who suggested trying to spread the skulk further in the End with a sweeping edge sword and some endermen.

And even after that, he’s pretty sure Xisuma’s been removing a fair amount of the skulk around Hermitopia.

There had been Impulse, too, unnerved and wary, asking Cub to dispose of parts of himself safely, rather than taking them and doing it himself.

And with all this came a growing… not discomfort. Why would he be uncomfortable? More a curiosity. How, after all, was he supposed to change their minds if he didn’t know their minds?

Joe- Joe was his friend, he had thought. Joe would get it.

And then he did.

It felt a little like missing a step, although to be fair that wasn’t necessarily uncommon in interactions with Joe.

He hinted, and Joe nodded and went along with it and was appropriately impressed.

Later, he was sold back the parts of himself that Joe had unearthed, both of them quite clear about where they had come from, and told that he could do whatever he liked with them as long as they didn’t end up back in Pix’s area.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Joe did tend to enjoy seeing where the chaos went. Why would he even want to intervene?

But then there are still sometimes those looks. When Cub is adding more skulk catalysts around Hermitopia, and Joe is quickly ducking in and out of the place because it’s not one hundred percent clear whether he's still an enemy of the state at this point or not.

When they’re doing that.

Sometimes Joe looks at him like he wouldn’t mind it if none of the Hermits told Cub when they left.

Sometimes, when he forgets himself a little, Cub wonders whether any of them would, anymore.

It seems like a double standard. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, he’s sure. He hasn’t found it yet, though.

Why, if he didn’t have the skulk to keep him company, he might even be feeling a little hurt lonely irritated.

It takes Xisuma replacing the entire floor of the tower for him to start to understand.

They say they hate it. Oh they say they hate it. Not out loud to him, most of the time, but they do. But they never get the roots.

They clear it away, and they leave the surface clean and new, or they leave it unrecognizably maimed by the scars they made themselves. Some of them even dig up the catalysts. But none of them get the roots, because Cub is still here, and so it will always come back.

None of them have even tried.

So that can’t hate it that much, can they?

They just don’t want it near them.

Well, he thinks.

Too bad.

He’s not very good at giving up.

[soleilnomoon]

hello!! ive been seeing some of the requests for your current event and they have just been so amazing 😩 and also congrats on 500!! that’s amazing!

i was wondering if i could order dulce de leche, lemon drop, and lollipop with a topping of poppy seeds and caramel for 1, sabo from one piece. if not thats alright or if i didn’t request correctly please let me know! thank you sm!

i am so sry this took forever, but it's here (finally); thank you thank you 🥰️ still can't believe it tbh lmao lemme tell u i love sabo so much & yk i love angst, anyway i had fun writing this 💕

1.8k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, angst angst babey (altho it's a lil tame to me, but i love that shit so ignore me); sabo loves being in denial, that's his favorite river; y/n, as usual, doesn't care abt consequences; feat. oral (m receiving), rough (consensual) sex, mutual pining, sabo being a dumbass for ignoring his obvious feelings, y/n not having any self-preservation is just normal y/n behavior lbr 🌺 (if u see grammar/spelling errors no u didn't 💛)

“the kiss i didn’t give you has become a star inside me…” — dulce maría loynaz

for sabo, life is all about routine; not in the mundane sense, but in his quest for needing to have consistent control over every aspect of his life, he thrives on having a path laid out for him. he can’t help it — it’s something that was carefully ingrained into him since he was a child. he blames his parents, blames the world he was born into, blames the world nobles for uprooting his newfound family and separating him from his brothers. yet, he holds steadfast in the work he does, finds pleasure in seeking justice wherever he can, and makes it a point to not make the sort of romantic connections that will keep him distracted.

his colleagues don’t bother prying him for more information on his previous life, and they know that he actively keeps people at an arm’s length for some unknown reason — not that they can judge him, their line of work is dangerous and there’s very little room for mistakes, or weakness for that matter.

you’re not sure what you did exactly to land on sabo’s radar, but once he set his eyes on you there was no option for turning back. not that you mind, of course — you just hate the way you can’t seem to penetrate any of the walls he’s securely built around himself. he gives very little of himself but demands everything from you.

to anyone else, this would be reason enough to cut him out of their life; but you, unfortunately, cannot let him go. if you do, you’re afraid he’ll never let you back in — not after you fought so hard for him to stay by your side.

in his mind, you’re someone that he can quit anytime; it’s a lie he likes to tell himself whenever he’s feeling particularly lonely or vulnerable. he hates that despite how hard he fights to keep you from plaguing his thoughts, you still manage to find a way — especially late at night, when he can’t seem to sleep. insomnia has always had a strong, punishing grip around him, often leaving him breathless from the way he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

at first, it was because you kept insisting on talking to him socially; then it was because he allowed you to take meals with him privately, a feat that did not go unnoticed by the others, much to his annoyance; and then it was because you had the audacity to kiss his cheek one night, after talking with him for hours. your demure behavior — the sweet, shy smile you gave him afterwards, the way you couldn’t look at him in the eyes properly the following day —ignites something deep within him that he never knew existed.

an ache makes its way into his chest, and he finds himself rubbing at it absently periodically, as if the burden of those emotions would take his life someday. while he might not outwardly show it, he looks forward to your incessant chatter — you talk about everything and nothing, something that baffles and amuses him to no end. with anyone else, he’d zone out of their conversation five minutes in, but you captivate him in an illogical way — one that has him watching you from across the room without meaning to, thinking about impractical things.

it's sabo who kisses you first, on a surprisingly quiet afternoon, in a back hallway that very few frequent during the day. a mistake, he tells himself when you part your lips for him without prompting; unnecessary, but he has you against the wall, with his knee in between your thighs; dangerous, yet he keeps kissing you anyway. he holds you still with a firm hand on the back of your neck, goosebumps tickling your skin every time his tongue caresses yours.

when you place your hands on his chest, arching into his hold as his other hand makes a slow descent down your back, he remembers himself. it takes effort but he’s able to extract himself from you in one swift motion, suddenly aware that he’s crossed a line he swore he’d never cross. after putting a good foot of distance between you two, he leaves abruptly and without giving you another thought.

or, so you think.

you don’t move from that spot for a few minutes, hands balled into fists at your sides, nails sinking into your palms out of frustration. you tell yourself that you absolutely cannot fall in love with that man. but it happens far too quickly and you’re incapable of fortifying yourself properly in time. he doesn’t kiss you again after that, not really anyway; he takes to catching you off guard when you walk back to your room late at night.

the first time he does it, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him. you screech in surprise and slap him on reflex. mischievous and a little stunned, sabo laughs at your reaction — your face grows hot from the embarrassment. his idea of an apology is pulling you close enough for him to drag his lips along the side of your neck. any residual irritation immediately dissipates the moment he places a kiss on your skin, an act that saps all your common sense, and transforms you into a marionette of his liking.

after that, you come to expect his surprise visits; you let him sit you on top of his desk, legs shaking as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your tight hole. you’ve long since forgotten to keep your voice down as you lean back on your hands, mind hazy as you watch the way your arousal drips onto his palm. if he wasn’t so intent on keeping his promise to himself, he’d kiss you all over again; but he knows if he does, there will be no turning back.

and this sort of weakness is out of the question for him.

you realize quickly that he’ll always distance himself from you emotionally, refusing to hold you for long, always pulling back whenever his lips are too close to yours. despite the bruise on your heart never healing, you can’t seem to let him go.

sabo fucks you like you’re an addiction he can’t seem to quit. no matter how many times he tells himself to leave, he makes his way back to you, hips rutting against yours frenetically, his cock buried deeply, making you moan his name loud enough to mesmerize him.

witchcraft, he muses to himself on occasion, fully believing that you’ve cast some spell on him.

his selfishness wins out when you sink down onto your knees in front of him one morning, stroking his cock with your soft hand before pressing your lips against the tip. whatever residual restraint he has is gone after your tongue swipes against his slit. the moan that slips out of his mouth invigorates you, makes you wrap your plush lips around his cock, sucking on the head teasingly before taking in more of his length.

you watch him with lowered lids, moaning around his cock, the vibration slicing through his logic as he grabs onto the back of your head so he can properly fuck your mouth. loosening your jaw, you hold onto the backs of his thighs for support, a heat passing over you every time sabo’s hips snap forward. your mouth is warm and moist, a combination that has him moaning your name without thinking. your heart speeds up and he ignores the warmth that spreads through him when he looks at your face; he constantly marvels at your beauty, at your soft skin, at how pliant and obedient you can be.

it annoys him that he’s found himself this deeply invested in you; when he pulls his cock out of your mouth, you take several deep breaths, a few tears sliding down your cheeks, a bit of saliva gliding down your bottom lip. the look he gives you is fierce and somewhat feral, and suddenly a nervousness that you don’t anticipate infiltrates your thoughts when he tells you to get on the bed.

he doesn’t have to tell you to get on your hands and knees, but he does it anyway; you severely underestimate the way his voice affects you — always a commanding, impressive force that leaves you breathless as you rub your ass against his stiff cock. you know you’re toeing a dangerous line by doing that, but you’re beyond caring. sabo glides his cock between your folds, arousal coating his length immediately.

you whimper shamelessly, fingers curling into the sheets as you plead with him. “sabo, please, i can’t take it anymore.” whatever else you want to say comes out as a garbled noise and you choke on his name as he snaps his hips forward, thrusting his cock into you roughly. you squirm when he pulls on your hair, yanking you back to him, lips nipping at your skin.

“stop running,” he says gruffly, his words almost making you laugh.

you could tell him the same since you theorized a while ago that he’s perfected the art of running. he doesn’t kiss you when you turn your head to look at him — he rocks his hips forward, the tip of his cock reaching a spot that has you clawing at his arms, your cunt squeezing around his girth in retaliation. he doesn’t kiss you when he has you on your back, legs draped over his shoulders as he pounds into you mercilessly, your voice growing hoarse, body writhing underneath him every time he sucks on your skin.

you wish you could hate him for making you fall in love with him, because only love could make someone foolish enough to carry on a relationship like this. you fall a little more in love with him every time, but he always finds a way to shatter your heart when he turns away from you on the bed. he tells you constantly that you can stay or leave, that the choice is ultimately up to you as it doesn’t affect him either way.

it must be madness that drives you to stay, wrapping yourself with the covers, breathing slowing as your eyes close. he turns around carefully, watching you with a tenderness that forces him to drape an arm around you, lips ghosting the curve of your ear as he whispers softly.

“i like having you around.”

you open your eyes but don’t dare turn around, afraid that he’ll leave if he realizes that you’re still awake — because if he ever takes those words back, you’ll never survive the fallout. so, you will your heart to stop beating loudly, and tell yourself that this must mean he’s lowering more of his walls for you intentionally. you don’t know how long he’ll allow himself to be this vulnerable with you, but regardless you’ll always cherish the time he’s spent with you.

[spotsandsocks]

Hi my dear spotty 🥰

For the make you write and because I can't ever resist this trope, 🛏️🛏️🛏️

Also because we always need more wips ⚡⚡⚡

Mwahhh xx

Hello there and thank you I just wrote a nice chunk for single bed so here’s 9 sentences for you

🛏️

One bed

At least it’s a big bed, that is very definitely a relief. There’s less chance of an accidental brush of legs or arms, of someone's chest ending up pressed against someone else's back. Unfortunately Eddie’s always preferred being the big spoon himself which means any accidental spooning is likely to be down to him.

Although technically it’s not his fault they only have one bed. Buck’s the one who messed up the booking.

That’s true… his conscience remarks, but you’re the one that went full besotted newlyweds aren’t you. You’re the one who thought this would be ok. You’re the one that has to climb into bed in a few short moments with the man you can’t stop thinking about because you can’t keep hiding in here.

The reflection looking back at him un the bathroom mirror at least has the decency to look ashamed of itself.

And pat yourself on the back because you’re officially responsible for an new wip… might make you name it

⚡️

Powers Au Buck can heal and Eddie sees the future (based on a prompt @steadfastsaturnsrings sent me ages ago) brain thinking thinks thoughts now… you’re fault 😂😂

It tingles, that's what Buck tells people when they ask. Tingles is a nice word, it sounds almost pleasant. Possibly even fun. It doesn’t make them feel like they’re taking something from him, hurting him. They’re not, not really, it doesn’t hurt him much… unless well never mind unless, that doesn’t happen often, only once before and there were reasons that time because he had to try.

That’s what he tells himself, that he tried. He really did. It didn’t work, but he tried.

Anyway that’s what he says, it tingles, and it’s not exactly unpleasant, not definitely not fun.

@tizniz you prompted all the fics so you can see this too Saturn you’re 30 sentences for this will be along at some point promise 😉

Lmk if anyone wants a general tag for these make me write prompts don’t like to bother people but it’s nice to get words read too 😉

[leighsartworks216]

Your Captain

Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Requested by Anon:

"Sweet! Can i request a angst and fluff fic with engineer mark? Where captain overworks themselves, not taking care of themselves at all, marks sees it but doesn't want to bother them too much about it

And eventually they get really sick and collapse infront of mark

With angst prompts #12 and #17 thank youuuu"

12. "You could have died."

17. "No, no, no, you can't close your eyes right now!"

Tbh this fic started as a completely different concept but I think it fit really well with this request so yah

Warnings: loss of identity, mentions of the warp core events, mentions of death, overworking, exhaustion, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 3906

Masterlist

Tag List Form

The realization is slow. Not in the way a predator creeps on an unsuspecting victim. Nor in the way an illness would, slowly taking over your body and mind until you can no longer ignore your decreasing abilities. No. It’s not even noticeable at first. Little hints here and there, indicative of something bigger.

And then it dawned on you. Suddenly. Like a spark igniting a rampant fire.

It happened when you looked up. The sky was different here. Strange. Nothing like Earth’s. There were no constellations - at least not yet. Two moons circled and twirled around the planet. Your new home.

You had neglected to look up since you landed. You couldn’t blame anyone. There was simply too much to do - buildings in need of building, resources to discover and study, maps to draw up of the surrounding area. Not only that, you joined your leads wherever you could.

You assisted Celci as she and her team revived colonists. You welcomed each new citizen with a smile and Welcome to our new planet! All 100,000 of them. Celci told you to take a break, get a nap, eat something. You would argue that everyone deserved to be welcomed, and it helped you get a grasp on just how many carpenters, engineers, scientists, medics, gun hands and others there actually were. She gave you a worried and disapproving side eye, but she couldn’t do anything to stop you.

Gunther worked to set up a perimeter where the first buildings could be set up. You helped to plan out which buildings went where, and exactly where your borders should be laid. And when he started setting up armed droids to keep an eye out for raging wildlife that could threaten your new beginnings? You were all too happy to put yourself to work, hauling the heavy automechanicals to each designated spot. If he made a comment about exerting yourself, you ignored it and kept on working.

Burt, with the lack of necessity for warp-core engineering (the thought made you flinch), helped out in home-building. He acted as foreman, making sure each sheet of metal had its place. As the framework finished, he and his team went in to affix lights and other electronic necessities. A few engineers even took plumbing jobs. (There was, unfortunately, a lack of those sent over from Earth.) Quiet as he was, the only time he pointed out your willingness to dive head first and help build foundations, framework and walls, was in a poetic waxing after a rather large building neared completion. You said it was a beautiful poem, but you didn’t quite understand its meaning. (You did.)

And Mark. Oh, god, Mark. With each new job you threw yourself into, he was always right there, running around like a headless chicken trying to help. If you were building a wall, he was right behind you (sometimes even right next to you, holding the metal in place as you bolted it in), keeping you up to date with the progress of the colony, messages from Earth, and other such things. He worried over you the most out of anyone else.

You couldn’t blame him, honestly. After the… adventure you both went on, you wouldn’t give yourself the time of day to even close your eyes. Once dark settled in, you threw yourself into paperwork and managerial nonsense. You couldn’t stop.

It had been one of these nights when you realized. You just finished talking to Celci, discussing the discoveries being made. The scientists just started working with the security crew to go out on excursions to study the flora and fauna. They just brought back a strange plant that they believed could be medicinal. It was exciting, truly.

But Celci had been short with the discussion. She had her arms crossed the whole time, shutting down branching topics with quick retorts. You need rest, she’d scolded. She shoved a protein bar in your hand and sent you to your tent, with orders not to do any work tomorrow. When you tried to protest, she enacted a rule that stated she - as lead officer for medical - could confine you to your quarters if you were not at your peak health, physical or otherwise. You couldn’t argue with her, and so trudged like a pouting child toward the temporary camp of tents everyone was staying in.

That’s when you looked up. You stopped, staring at the unfamiliar stars, the strange moons that lacked craters. The Invincible could just be seen, hovering in the atmosphere. You were waiting for orders from Earth to know what to do with her. You refused to dismantle the grand spaceship. Most likely, it would continue to remain high above the planet, run by a skeleton crew. Forever up there. Alone.

That is when the realization overcame you.

It was slow. And then it all came crashing down over top of you like a tsunami. A growing sense of guilt filled your chest. Was that it? Guilt. No, maybe it was… loss. Yes. A powerful sense of grief within you, bubbling to the surface.

Maybe it had always been there. You couldn’t rightly tell. But it was powerful. It grew, bubbling like a thick paste within you until it reached your tear ducts and buckled your knees. The ground was warm beneath you, and the sky full of strange new stars blurred into a swirl of watercolors. Maybe this was how Van Gogh saw the world. Through tears.

“Captain?”

Your lip trembled. You couldn’t look at him.

A warm body knelt next to you on the ground. His dark eyes burned into your skin, searching desperately for answers. Why were you crying? Why were you sitting out in the middle of the camp, staring at the sky? When he glanced up, following your gaze, he caught sight of the Invincible. He mentally damned the ship.

Was it because of the ship that you were crying? Far too often to be healthy, he, too, stared up at the ship. He remembered the warp core. The mistakes he made, and the ones he caused.

He had no idea what you saw up there. You never spoke about it. Now he wished he had. He wished he asked. He wished he knew what worlds, what alternate realities, what different timelines you’d witnessed. Maybe then he could understand what was wrong.

“Cap…?”

Your eyes were red now. Your face crinkled with grief and sorrow, fighting back the onslaught of tears. You gasped in a shaky breath. Out came a whisper. He thought, perhaps, you would tell him about the things you’d seen. You witnessed thousands of deaths; he had, too. But that was not what came out of your mouth.

“I don’t remember my name.”

Mark was stunned. Shock and confusion overtook his body. Your name? Well, of course, your name was… It’s…

Confused and frustrated, he remembered the IDs on file for every single crew member. He sifted through so many every day, trying to keep track of who was who. It took a few taps on his wrist pad to pull up your ID. He skimmed it for himself before holding out his arm to show you.

The image was fairly recent, only from a few months ago. But you looked… brighter. Hopeful. Determined. Your hair was a little shorter then, too. The bags under your eyes from rigorous study weren’t as prominent as they were now. You looked like a hollow shell of who you once were.

And, yes, that was your name. Or… was it? Was it really your name after everything that had happened?

No. That was their name.

You shook your head and furiously wiped at the tears on your cheeks. Every crass name, criminal title, and disparaging nickname flooded your mind. No. They didn’t have those titles. They didn’t deserve the hatred and vitriol that followed you through that wormhole. They were not the Captain. And you were not them.

“That’s not my name anymore,” you croaked. You shook your head again. You looked like a child having a breakdown in kindergarten over a broken toy. “That’s- That’s not me anymore.”

Mark couldn’t say he really understood why. The image of you, all crooked grins and academy-fresh confidence, was you. He remembered you gushing to him over flying your first airplane, and going through the rigorous training of outer-space flying. He remembered because it was you who gave him the idea for all those stupid windows. When you gushed over being so close to the night sky you felt you could reach out and pluck Polaris right out of the inky black.

But when he looked from the picture to you? He was reminded of the hardships. How you jumped from universe to universe, wracking up casualties, just to save him. And he started to get it. You went through too much to be even near the same plane of existence as your young, naive self.

“Who am I, Mark?”

When you fell to press your face unceremoniously into his shoulder, he wasted no time wrapping you up in his arms. The ID flickered away as the screen turned off. He tried to hold on tight enough to physically stop you from shaking with your sobs, but it was impossible.

“You’re our Captain.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. But they were the only words he could find.

Anybody who passed by pretended they didn’t see anything. He hoped, anyway. He couldn’t meet their eyes. All he could do was hold on, as you had done for him once. Your sobs turned into stifled cries, and then only whimpers. He wasn’t concerned at first. In fact, he was a little relieved you were beginning to calm down. Until you became completely limp in his hold.

Even then, he still paused a second, before pulling you back until he could see your face. Had your skin always been so dull?

He shook you slightly. Maybe you were just sleeping, right? Your eyelids didn’t even flutter. Panic shot through his heart.

He shook you again, harder this time. No response.

“Captain?” Another shake, perhaps a little more vigorously than he intended. Your body was a rag doll, flopped in his lap. “No, no, no, you can’t close your eyes right now!”

His mind, scared and jumping to all the worst conclusions, raced to figure out what to do. He laid you on the ground and pressed an ear against your chest.

…

……

Okay. There’s a heartbeat. A little weaker than he thought was normal, but it was there. And your chest was moving, albeit slowly, with each breath. He pulled away. His hands, calloused with years of fiddling with wires and heavy machinery, floundered in the air. He didn’t know what to do.

Desperate cries for help, for Cici, for anyone were ripped from his lungs. He was gasping for air by the time half the camp rushed out to see what the commotion was. He couldn’t catch his breath until you were safe again.

He just needed you to be safe.

-

Word spread about the Captain’s health quickly. Mark couldn’t say he was surprised. Actually, he was sort of embarrassed.

That night - almost a week ago now - Celci had rushed to his side. She was the rational and cool-headed one. She commanded medics to grab a stretcher, to ready an IV, prepare a bed and equipment. All the while he screeched like a banshee, whaling for his old friend.

Uncharacteristically, though, she didn’t say a word about it. Nobody did. (Or, at least, not when he was within earshot.) She grabbed him a chair, some water and snacks, even a blanket. And as he sat by the Captain’s side, a permanent frown etched within his features, she kept him up to date on your condition and on the colony.

He knew his fears were wholly rational. After jumping through wormholes and witnessing first hand what consequences it brought, it was only natural for him to fret over the permanence of life now.

How stupid he’d been. Really. How many times did he grab your hand and jump back into the wormhole? More than he could count on one hand. The way he would be torn apart by a black hole or exploded by a supernova, and still step out of that pod with a giddy little grin, asking, almost begging, the Captain to jump in again. And again. And again.

Vaguely he remembered an airlock.

Neither of you were immortal now. Honestly, he hated immortality. It seems to amazing in theory…

He drags a hand down his face with a sigh. His shoulders are hunched. He leans his elbows against the edge of your bed.

He’s tired. Not like before. This wasn’t an exhaustion fueled by some silly false heroics or nonstop building of a catalyst to all your issues. No. He was exhausted with worry, and fear, and- God, emotions he didn’t even have words for. It all sat heavy in his soul.

Guilt, he decided to call it. But different. Guilt if it was slightly to the left.

Celci told him you just passed out from exhaustion and overworking yourself. Maybe he felt guilty for not picking up on it sooner, or for stopping you before it got so bad. It’s not as if the bags under your eyes were invisible, or that the way you carelessly rushed in to help every single person in need was subtle. He should have noticed.

Maybe then you would remember your name. Or, he thought back to your ID, believe you’re still you.

He wished his mind could shut up, for once.

A distraction. That’s what he needed, yeah.

He dragged his eyes from your face to your monitor. He was never very good with medical stuff. The numbers were odd. Was that blood pressure normal? Too high? Too low? Hell if he knew. Was your heart beating fast enough?

He contemplated for a brief moment the components that went into a monitor like that. The wires, connectors, screws, bolts, etc. And then he remembered this machine was making sure you were still alive. The idea of dismantling it was no longer appealing.

He turned to the IV next. A slow, continuous drip of fluids, hooked up to your arm. Needles always gave him a bad feeling. He felt nauseous looking at it.

Strange flowers caught his attention next. There were no roses or tulips or irises out here. Just… Well, they didn’t have names yet. The exobiologists were working on formulating latin names, genuses, and everything else that came with cataloging different flora. They were still beautiful, he couldn’t deny it. Bright orange petals with neon blue stamens that glowed at night. Razor-leaved stems that started as purple by the bloom and morphed into an odd black hue. They looked poisonous, actually. He was sure they wouldn’t be allowed in here if that was the case.

Paper was becoming a luxury at this point. Not that it mattered much, with everything accessible at the press of a button on their wrists. Still, they thought it would be best to ration out the remaining scraps throughout the colony. And everyone, seemingly unanimously, decided to use the rare material to write get well soon cards.

The little folds of parchment filled every possible surface. With 100,003 people writing get well and thank you, at some point the excess of good will notes had to be tucked away in a bin to be read later. He caught a nurse, once, rotating out the cards.

His frown softened when he thought of the very human way in which they cared about you. How human to utilize a precious resource just to say Thank you, wake up soon. How human to see something beautiful in nature, and to display it tenderly next to you. We found something beautiful, it made us think of you. How very human for those who stopped by, who saw him ever at your side like a steadfast protector, rested a hand on his shoulder or patted him on the back. You are not alone in your pain.

He wished, desperately, that you could be awake to witness the love humanity so freely handed out. Maybe then you could rediscover who you were.

“You look like shit.”

Mark startled awake. When did he fall asleep? Ah, dammit, it was dark outside. He must have been out for hours. He scrubbed at the exhaustion crusting his eyelids shut.

Wait…

His body froze. He was too scared to breathe. His heart was racing.

He couldn’t have heard that. He couldn’t have.

Heart in his throat, he slowly removed his hand from his eye and dragged his eye along your frame, still tucked safely under the blanket. Sure enough, when he finally reached your face, there was a smug grin waiting for him.

And with a jolt, his body came back to life.

You watched, half-amused as Mark threw himself from his chair to press a Call Nurse button on the opposite side of your bed. His eyes were wide and frantic. His hair was a mess. Bags under his eyes carried the weight of the world, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks before he could even think to stop them.

“You’re- You’re awake!” he croaked. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your shoulders. They were trembling.

You tried to reach up to hold onto his shoulder, maybe even his face to feel his concerning amount of stubble, but it felt so heavy. You held onto his forearm instead. “How long-?”

Celci came storming in, looking about as frantic as Mark, but better put together. Once she saw you were conscious, her expression morphed to be somewhere between joy and fury. Uh oh.

“Captain!” The only freedom from her intense stare came when she checked your vitals. Mark backed away so she had plenty of room to do so, but he kept a hand on one of your shoulders. He couldn’t pull himself away just yet. “I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’, but I told you this was going to happen if you kept pushing yourself so hard!”

“What exactly happened?”

The cryonics lead faltered. Mark gave her a pleading look. She realized, for the first time since stepping in here, that he had been- no, was crying. She had never seen him cry before.

Celci sighed and tapped a few things into her wrist pad. “I’m assigning you to bedrest and low-effort work until you decide to put your needs before those of the colony.” She leveled you with a concerned stare. “The colony needs you, Captain. You can’t be everywhere at once, helping with every last fiber of your being, no matter how much you want to. Let the rest of us carry the responsibilities we were sent here to carry.”

Mark turned away to wipe away his tears before she could glare at him next and give him a lecture, too. She huffed, nodded to you with a Captain, and left.

The air was thick. Things unsaid hung around in the air like dust caught in a sunbeam - everywhere you look and hard to ignore.

Mark didn’t look at you as he tried to gather himself together. The motes would continue lingering until he was ready to answer your questions.

Deciding to give him some space (as much as you could while bedridden), you looked to the side. The hordes of cards was utterly overwhelming. Each one was different from the next. Some had Captain written on the front in neat cursive, heavy-handed scrawls, or chicken scratch. Some people did their ‘C’s differently, or slurred their writing together in their plain-text handwriting. Other cards simple said Get well soon! or Feel better! You could see small paragraphs of writing inside the folds.

A rush of warmth flooded your chest. All of the command leads, all of the colonists - everyone thought about you. Maybe the idea of being thought of was just so foreign, but you didn’t think in any earnest capacity that this many people would care. The Leads, sure, you spent so much time with them up on the ship (more than they realized), but the most contact the vast majority of the colonists had with you was the simple welcome you gave them as they were thawed. And yet. Despite it all. Everyone had left a card.

Everyone cared about you.

The warm feeling in your chest turned sour as you remembered your conversation with Mark last night. (Was it last night?) The way the stars glimmered back without a care for you. The way you squeezed that protein bar so tight it became mush in its package. The way Mark held you.

I don’t remember my name.

Who am I, Mark?

You squeezed his arm, as much as you could in your weakened state.

You’re our Captain.

Reddened eyes met yours. His eyes were so dark, but they held a thousand thoughts, emotions, and ideas behind them. You remembered looking into those eyes, as you held onto him, refused to let him go even as he called you hateful names and ripped the crystal from your palm.

“You’ve been asleep for a week.” He sniffed. His hand trembled as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cici said… You were overworking yourself, pushing yourself past your limit just to be there for everybody, and you weren’t taking care of yourself like you should have been and she said-” He swallowed thickly, fighting to speak through the lump in his throat. “You could have died.”

Oh. It had been that bad? You couldn’t recall feeling weak. Though, maybe it was from the endless running you did during the warp core fiasco. How long had you been awake during that endless nightmare? Your body had recovered once the cycle was broken, but your mind…

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. His shoulders fell. “I didn’t…” Your voice was quiet, almost too soft to be a whisper. As if you were afraid to say what was on your mind. “When we were in the wormhole, I was so tired. We both were. But it’s like, I don’t even know what it’s like to feel tired anymore, because nothing compares to what happened.”

You looked up at him, like a child seeking approval. In your eyes, he saw universes colliding, supernovas, and someone who never gave up hope. For the briefest hint of a second, he saw that same determined graduate from the ID.

“Does that make sense?”

He nodded without thinking. His hand left your shoulder, following the length of your arm to hold your hand. You didn’t have gloves on. It was… odd. He ignored the calloused scar that brushed against his palm. “I feel the same. I remember building the… it. I didn’t sleep at all, then. And now that I can, it feels… wrong. I’m not tired, but I am. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“I think we both need a nap.”

He huffed. It was nice to see him smile again. “On your orders, Captain.” His grin flickered, eyes darkened. “If you’d like, you can choose a different name. It wouldn’t be too hard to change your ID.”

“No,” you said. You smiled. “You were right, all along.”

“About what?”

“I’m your Captain.”

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

[brienneoftarth1989]

Undercover part 7

Miranda Hilmarson x fem reader

Previous / Next / Series

Summary: You let Miranda cool down for a bit before going to her room to apologise to her. Your intention was never to upset her. You barged in on her changing which revealed the undercover mic under her clothes. She was a fucking cop!

Warnings: gangs, violence

Requests open

———————————

You had finally finished up with your friend in the white room and knew you were definitely finished with him. You had all the information you needed so the only thing left to do was clean up and get this motherfucker back to his gang.

Normally you would get someone else to do this part of the work but you were currently so pissed out that you didn’t want to speak to anyone at the moment. You knew you needed to apologise to Miranda but while you were still mad it was a very risky move.

You grabbed some of your tools and started to wipe the blood off them. The last thing you needed was to have your tools covered in blood. Doesn’t give much of a good impression, not that anyone really cared. With your tools now all cleaned you placed them back into the torture box ready for their next use.

You picked up the box of tools before leaving the white room and heading up to your office to put your tools in their safe place. It wouldn’t bother you if they got stolen but you do like to know where they are at all times just in case you need them. That’s why you always left them in the same place.

With them now in their home you went to grab some cleaning supplies before heading back to the white room. You got some strange looks from your fellow crew most likely wondering why on earth you were doing the clean up instead of someone else. They knew you were most likely pissed off because you only do jobs like this when you're annoyed.

That is why they left you be. With yourself back in the white room you got back to work cleaning the mess you made. This was the only problem with the white room; it got dirty real quick. You immediately got to cleaning everything up. You started with the table wiping down the dried blood that had come off the tools.

You then untied your victim and just left him on the floor so he was out of the way. You wiped down the chair he had been sitting on before placing it on top of the table. Now comes the long task. You filled a bucket up with bleach before diluting it with a little bit of water so it wouldn’t damage the walls.

You got to work cleaning the walls while you had some music playing in the background. The current song playing was the last great America dynasty which had to be one of your favourites. As the time went by you found yourself slowly getting the job done. After a good two hours you could finally say the white room was back to white.

You gathered up the cleaning supplies and took them back to the storage cupboard. On your way back you happened to come across Raphael. “Hey can you give me a hand with the one still in the white room?” You asked him.

“Sure thing boss” Raphael responded as he made his way over to you. The two of you headed into the white room to sort out the last thing that was in there. Before you could start lifting up the bloke Raphael started to talk. “What happened earlier between you and Miranda?” He asked somewhat curiously.

“Oh so you heard about that?” You responded. “Unfortunately I think everyone heard that argument. So what exactly happened?” He asked. “I gave her a show. Most people that work for me would love to see something like that but instead she told me I was sick in the head for what I did to him and that there were better ways around it” you sighed visibly upset.

“You like her don’t you?” Raphael responded. You looked shocked as if what he just told you was utter rubbish. However, that was far from the truth. You did like her and you thought what you did would maybe impress her. “Look boss I don’t care if you do like Miranda but just be careful. For whatever reason I just have a funny feeling about her” Raphael responded.

“Oh whatever Raphael” you replied not wanting to listen to what he was saying. “Come on, can you give me a hand with this?” You asked as you pointed down to the bloke laying on the floor. “Yeah sorry boss” he replied as he helped you pick the man off the floor and carry him to the back of your truck.

“Alright I’m off to go and drop this one off at his gang and then I’m going to grab some food so I will speak to you lot later. If you need me for any reason then just give me a call” you told Raphael as you jumped into your truck.

You put the destination in the satnav and started on your drive to their hideout. You turned up the radio to find the way I loved you was playing. Such a typical song for how you were feeling right now. You continued to drive around as you made your way deeper into the city and into another rough part of town.

When you finally arrived at their hangout you were quick to pull up, tossed the bloke onto their drive before speeding away but not before shouting “have this motherfucker back!” You watched in your rearview mirror to see two of the gang members look at your truck before quickly attending to their mate.

That will show them not to mess with you or your gang again. With that now sorted you decided to quickly swing home to freshen up. You hadn’t had a chance to shower or even change clothes which was very much needed if you were wanting to pick up some dinner.

As soon as you arrived home you were quick to start a small fire in the fire pit. Once it was roaring you stripped out of your clothes and placed them in the fire. You had plenty of money to replace them plus it got rid of any evidence and DNA. While the small fire was going and burning the evidence you headed upstairs to have a shower.

You didn’t want to hang around too long as you had places to be but you knew you needed to let the fire burn a little bit longer so you decided to do your full cleaning routine especially as you had blood on you. You turned the shower on so it was nice and hot. You have always loved a nice hot shower.

You got your waterproof speaker and placed it in the shower before connecting your phone. The first song that came blaring out was suburban legends. Another favourite of yours. You then got started cleaning yourself.

You started with washing your hair with shampoo before rinsing it out to then wash it with conditioner. With your hair now clean you started with your skin routine on your face. You started with one that helps remove excess oils, then one that targets white heads and then one that targets blackheads.

With your face now cleaned there was one last thing you needed to do which was wash your body. You made sure you were nice and clean before washing away all the soap and getting out of the shower.

You made your way to your bedroom to get changed before quickly doing something with your hair. You didn’t want to do anything too fancy as it would just take too long to do. Once you were sorted you made your way back outside to see what the fire was doing.

It was almost burnt out but you could tell it was still very much hot. Once it was cooled you would bag it up and then spread it at one of the local campsites in the other fire pits. Pretty genius to be honest.

You decided on having five guys for dinner so you got back in your truck and made your way over to the nearby five guys. As soon as you got there you went straight to the drive thru to order your food.

You decided to order two cheeseburgers, two grilled cheeses, two portions of chips and two salted caramel milkshakes. You decided to get two of what you ordered because you really wanted to surprise Miranda.

You had been thinking a lot about what happened and you realised that maybe you were a jerk and you shouldn’t have assumed that she would have liked the show you put on for her. Therefore a nice food surprise would hopefully cheer her up and you could find the time to apologise to her.

With food now in your car, you drove down to the warehouse where you knew Miranda would be. You were honestly excited to see her and you only could hope that she would like your surprise. When you arrived you quickly parked up the truck before heading inside.

You made your way straight to Miranda’s room which you gifted her when she first arrived. You tend to offer your best employees with rooms in case they want to hang around or stay the night. Miranda got hers purely because you had feelings for her but that’s besides the point.

You knocked on the door and let yourself in not even waiting for an answer. What a rookie mistake. You were greeted by a half dressed Miranda with something hanging on her chest. “Is that a mic?” You asked her as you looked at her to see wires on her.

Miranda just looked at you in shock, scared about what you might do. “For fuck sake Miranda is that a fucking mic?” You screamed at her. You felt so betrayed. You trusted her. You really liked her and she was ratting you out to someone.

You stormed over to Miranda as you tackled her to the ground. “Please wait y/n! I can explain!” She begged you. “Yeah you have a lot of explaining to do!”

“Raphael!” You screamed to which he came running in. “What is it boss?” He asked before examining the scene in front of him. “Help me take her to the white room” you replied.

[empressaraceli1992]

Inspired by @valadarts on Twitter

Four Little Words

Soap never felt like he belonged anywhere. Sooner or later people would always tire of him and his antics. Whether they were family or friends, eventually everyone got tired of the energy ball that was John MacTavish.

After being thoroughly beaten, and banished from his home in Glasgow after his father caught him kissing a boy: Soap attempted to join the military. His first few attempts were unsuccessful, but eventually he managed to get in. Unfortunately, even trained as a demolitions expert Soap still had too much energy. After irritating his third bunk mate in a row Soap learned to tone it down, being only slightly annoying, carefully reserved. Until he got comfortable.

That's how it always started if he was being honest. Unfortunately, Soap had always been an honest person. He knew why he had been removed from his last team—he was too annoying. He had gotten too comfortable with them. Too close. All of his previous teammates told him so:

John talks too much. John's too clingy. John is so annoying. John should just shut up. Don't invite John, he's too excitable. John isn't worth it.

Soap had taken the first beating in the military with ill grace, going straight to his superior to report it only to be chewed out for annoying his teammates into doing it to him. The second time, when they held him down with his sheets, and bludgeoned him with soap bars in their pillow cases Soap bit his lip so hard it bled. He didn’t bother telling his CO the next morning. He didn’t bother tending to the many black and blue bruises that littered his body. Soap had doubted then that the nurses in medical would give him or his injuries a second glance. So when his CO told him he was no longer a good fit for their team Soap accepted it quietly.

When Price snatched him up immediately after Soap took it as his second chance. Accepting the position eagerly, Soap met the first of his new teammates: Ghost. Ghost was a mysterious man. Stoic to say the best, cold at worst, but Soap was pleased as punch to meet him. Greeting the Lieutenant with a soft punch to the shoulder Soap eagerly offered to save him a seat. Ghost didn’t seem particularly keen on his new Sergeant, but Soap didn’t take it personally.

Instead he worked slowly to open the older man up. Ghost reciprocated slowly with his awful dad jokes—then there was Las Almas. Soap thought his CO had finally started warming up to him after Ghost helped remove the bullet from his arm.

The fact followed him like a living shadow made Soap feel like the man actually cared. Ghost had even taken to calling him ‘Johnny’---something Soap never allowed anyone else to do. Soap had to admit his crush on the lieutenant was a little pathetic, but he kept himself in check. Most of the time.

Every so often Ghost would cross an invisible line and brush his bare hand against Soap’s. Or would leave a hand resting on Soap just a tad longer than necessary. Soap adored these touches, these small embraces. He felt comfortable in them.

That’s where Soap messed up. He got comfortable. He felt safe. He felt wanted.

—-----------------------------------------

They were out at the local pub after a successful mission. Soap sat next to Ghost at the bar enjoying the older man's company, and chatting away amicably. Ghost's eyes gleamed in the low bar light. He looked bemused. Happy for once.

Then Soap screwed it all up: he opened his mouth.

"Hey, I've been thinking about us." Soap said with one hand around his drink and the other laying, he hoped, casually on the bar.

"Us?" Ghost hummed, swirling his bourbon in one hand. He turned to look at Soap over his shoulder. "What about us? You've been a great teammate if that's what you mean."

"Common Si, you know what I'm talking abo–"

"NO." Ghost growled. "I don't think I do."

"W-what do you mean?" Soap asked quietly, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

"Exactly what I said." Ghost snapped. He kept his eyes down, examining the now half empty glass.

"Si…you can't be serious." Soap gave a nervous chuckle. "Think about us–"

"THERE IS NO US MACTAVISH." Ghost snarled, getting to his feet. Soap could feel the pain in his chest as his heart broke. "I'm heading home now; it's late." Soap could feel the silent tears slipping down his face. "Get home safe, Sergeant." Ghost's voice softened, only slightly, and then he was gone.

Soap didn't acknowledge Ghost's statement. How could he? 'Get home safe.' Sounded like a cruel joke to Soap as he sat there the last of his scotch watering down considerably the longer he sat. He couldn't bring himself to lift the glass to his lips. To drink the burning liquid, and chase away his pain.

Instead Soap sat there until the bar closed. The bartender gently showed him out. She apologized, and said she hoped he made it home okay. Soap didn't acknowledge her statement either. He was too numb. The night air was cool against his skin. Ignoring the well meant suggestions of getting a ride, Soap started back to the base on foot. It would take at least an hour.

Not that anyone would notice. No one would care that annoying John 'Soap' MacTavish was late. Or missing…not even Ghost. Especially not Ghost. Soap felt the tears begin anew. He sniffled as he angrily wiped the tears away. No one would care, he cried. They didn't want to know. He wouldn't let them know.

An eternity later Soap collapsed into his bunk freezing. Curling beneath the thin blanket he fell into a fitful sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------

He snuck around the offices with his hand gun at the ready. Hissan would not escape him this time. He had stopped the missile, now he would stop the man. A sudden crack, a blinding pain in his temple, and the world went black.

He could feel himself being dragged. Jagged pieces of glass cut into his hands and bare arms as he fought the grip on his vest. In the distance he could hear gunshots. Fighting against the hand that held him, Soap jerked as the large window loomed nearby—the glass long since shattered.

"No, no, not again." Soap whined. Where was his rifle? His body hurt so bad. There was a hand wrapped around his vest dragging him forward. Black gloves with white accents covered the fingers….no that wasn’t right. Hissan wasn’t wearing gloves when he— Soap's eyes snapped up. A dark skull-plate mask stared down at him. Ghost lifted him to the window. Soap could feel the void behind him yawning wide to accept him. Accept his death. Soap struggled clawing at Ghost's forearm.

"Ghost?!" Soap panicked. "Ghost please, don't!"

Ghost glared at him through the sockets of his mask.

“Ghost please!” Soap wept. “I’m sorry, please, please, don’t—”

Ghost threw Soap out onto the pavement below.

Soap screamed.

—-------------------------------------------------

Soap shot up out of bed, a scream lodged in his throat. Acid churned in his stomach clawing its way up his throat. Soap rolled quickly to the side he grabbed the small bed by his end table and threw up noisily into it. Soap's throat was raw - he must have been screaming - his heart hammered painfully in his chest. Gasping, Soap pulled back onto the bed just far enough to bury his face in the crook of his arm.

What the hell? He hadn't dreamed of Chicago in months. He attempted to swallow, but found his throat was too sore, and his skin felt too sensitive. As though there was a thin layer of electricity keeping his nerves on a razor's edge. Soap felt a shiver wrack his body.

He was damp, covered in a cold sweat. Despite the heat of the base, Soap shivered. Rubbing a calloused hand through his mohawk, Soap tried to ground himself. The clock on his bedside table told him it was only a few minutes after two in the morning. Feeling the tackiness of his own sweat, Soap knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep easily.

So instead he grabbed his shower bag, rolled up his sheets, and made his way to the basement laundry. Chucking his sheets into the wash with some detergent Soap left his sheets to wash, and made his way to the communal showers. No one in their right mind would be up this early. Soap was fairly certain he would have the showers, and the hot water to himself for at least another two hours. Not that he intended to shower that long, but he needed to get out of his head.

—---------------------------------------------------

Scrubbed raw head to toe, and neatly dressed in his fatigues, Soap was the first to arrive in the mess. A first for him. Usually Ghost was the first to arrive. The giant of a lieutenant would sit in the comfortable silence at their table, carefully selected in the back of the room where he could see both entrances, a hot tea in hand. It used to be a comforting thought.

Making a fresh pot of coffee, Soap prepared himself a mug, and sat down at their usual table. However, instead of taking his normal seat- which would have been to the right of Ghost - he took Gaz's usual seat across from the lieutenant and right next to where Price would sit.

When his fellow sergeant entered, Soap eagerly waved him over.

“Gaz! Have breakfast with me?”

“Of course mate.” Gaz gave him a concerned look. “But Jesus did you even sleep?”

“Yea…” Soap gave a weak laugh. “I kinda over did it with the drinks.”

Sitting down together with their trays in hand Soap only half listened as Gaz went on about the most recent rugby game. Pushing his food around on his plate, Soap had only taken a bit or two. He could feel his stomach roll. Soap knew he was hungry, but his body wasn’t willing to eat just yet.

“Hey…” Soap’s head snapped up. Gaz’s tone had changed. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been getting distracted.”

“Yea…” Soap caught movement over Gaz’s shoulder. Ghost had entered the mess. Soap watched him through bleary eyes as the lieutenant got his food, and made his way to their table, pausing just behind Gaz.

“Good morning, Sergeants.” Ghost’s baritone greeted them. Gaz gave Soap a knowing look, which Soap quickly dismissed.

“Morning, L.T.” Soap said, proud of himself. His voice barely wavered.

“Yeah…” Gaz crossed his arms. “Good morning Lieutenant.”

Soap knew that look. Gaz had been his best friend since day one of their time together. He could tell something was bothering Soap, even if he didn’t say it out right. He probably wouldn’t say it outright, and instead interrogate Ghost. Soap couldn’t allow that. Not this time. Standing quickly, he scooped up his tray.

“Here L.T. you can take my seat.”

“Ah, that’s not—” Ghost’s voice was quiet, meant only for Soap. Soap ignored him. Instead turning to lay a hand on Gaz’s shoulder. “Gaz, you up for some sparring later?”

“Sure, but…” Gaz glanced at Ghost, who had remained standing. “I thought Ghost was your sparring buddy?”

“Yea, but it’s no fun if you don’t shake it up. Aye?” Soap gave what he hoped was a convincing smile and made his way out of the mess. Ghost didn’t stop him. Gaz didn’t ask. None of the recruits noticed.

No, no one knew that John 'Soap' MacTavish was breaking.

—--------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day was a blur. Soap went through his normal workout routine, and even sparred with Gaz while studiously ignoring the shadow of Ghost as he stood just outside the sparring ring. Soap was for all intentions and purposes treating the lieutenant like his callsign: a ghost. Unseen, and unheard floating about the base.

Soap no longer sought Ghost out during his down time. He didn't eat lunch with any of the 141 anymore, choosing instead to return to his room. He even changed his workout schedule to avoid Ghost’s - as they had been workout buddies before. The only time Soap saw Ghost now was in his dreams, as the same nightmare played over and over again every night. This pattern continued for a little over a week before Price became fed up and dragged Soap into his office.

Much to Soap's chargen Ghost was already inside. The lieutenant stood against the far wall, arms crossed, head down. Soap ignored Price's gesture to take the seat in front of his desk. Instead opting to remain standing as far away from Ghost as possible. Price groused under his mustache taking his own seat behind the desk so he could glare at the two like a disappointed father.

"I don't know what the issue is between you two, but it stops now." Price growled. "You two were my best team, and now you can't stand being in the same room! What the hell is going on? Soap?"

Soap felt his stomach plummet. Price was blaming him. Of course he was blaming him. It was Soap’s fault after all. He was stupid enough to get comfortable. Stupid enough to believe that he was cared for. That he was wanted. Soap felt himself begin to tremble.

"I'll transfer in the morning." Soap rasped, gripping his own wrist behind his back to keep the others from noticing.

"The hell you will." Price snapped. Soap flinched, shoulders shaking. He was too keyed up, too anxious. "I don't care what you two do in your personal lives, but you were friends. I expect you to be teammates even if you can't be friends. I expect you to be cordial and work together. Do you understand?"

Teammates…isn't that what Ghost had said? He was his teammate, nothing more. Soap felt the acid churn in his stomach again.

"Yes sir." Soap turned, without waiting to be dismissed he flung the door open and bolted. He made outside, only just, and threw up noisily into the bushes. Wiping his mouth with the back of his head, Soap leaned back against the cold brick wall behind him. Or he would've if he didn't find himself flush against a pillowed surface.

Strong hands wrapped around his shoulders from behind.

"Easy Johnny." Ghost's voice rumbled in his ear.

"Dinnae call me that." Soap winced at how rough his voice sounded. He tried to shake off Ghost's hands, but the lieutenant's grip was unforgiving. "Lemme go." Soap complained as Ghost spun him around and led him forcefully back inside. Soap tried to shove the taller man off, but Ghost simply rearranged his hold and forced Soap to keep pace with him as he turned down the familiar hallways.

Ghost paused outside of a door, releasing Soap with one hand to fish for his keys while the other held tight to the back of Soap's neck. Soap twisted free of Ghost's hold and stomped back down the hallway they had come from. He got about two feet away before he was rudely slammed into the wall next to him. His breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Ghost glared down at him, a thick forearm pressed against his clavicle.

"You listen, and you listen well." Ghost snarled. "We are going in that office, and we are going to talk."

"Got nothing you want to hear." Soap half-gasped trying to snarl back. Ghost applied more pressure. "You made that clear, sir." Soap spat the honorific out through gritted teeth twisting to look pointedly at the floor. He didn't want to see Ghost's eyes. Didn't want to remember the warmth of Simon behind that mask. Ghost didn't care what he had to say, not really.

"Just because you couldn't get your dick wet–" Ghost grunted as Soap's fist made contact with his face. He took one step back, but no more, whipping his head back around to glare at the Sergeant. Soap met Ghost's withering look without flinching his blue eyes blazing.

"You don't know a damn thing about me." Soap hissed. "I can get shagged whenever I want. It didn't have a damn thing to do with sex and you know it. You're just too selfish to understand that other people have feelings for you." Wrenching Ghost's arm away from him, Soap shoved his superior hard. Soap paused as he turned to leave, glancing over his shoulder. Ghost stood there, unmoving, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

—---------------------------------------------------

The next few days were better in many ways and worse in others. Ghost and Soap communicated only when necessary and with short clipped tones. Soap quit avoiding Ghost, but still did not actively seek his lieutenant out unless directed to by Price. Ghost remained as stoic as ever.

Since he hadn't been dragged into Price's office to explain why he struck his CO, Soap assumed Ghost was either too ashamed or too proud to admit he - the great Ghost - had been struck by his Sergeant. Soap suspected the latter since the man never bothered to talk to him about the night at the bar.

Soap's nightmares continued despite every effort he made to abate them. His sketchbook was becoming a homage of Ghost flinging Soap from a skyscraper against an inky blackness. Soap woke up violently ill every time to the point he stopped eating dinner so he could just dry heave in the morning before breakfast.

It wasn't a perfect fix, but it was working. The rest of the 141 was none the wiser. If they noticed Soap losing a little weight they never said anything. Perhaps they believed his pride in his body was the reason. No one noticed. No one cared. Until…

Soap was running the recruits through the obstacle course—which started with the basic crawling under the wire and ended in an underground pool the recruits had to swim through at the end. The deepest part of the pool was ten feet. The goal for today was for the recruits to complete the course with full gear on. Soap would be observing, along with another sergeant, to make sure no one got hurt. The recruits were to enter the pool at the deep end, tread water, and make it to the shallow end, and out within the time given.

The first group of five completed the course no problem. The second group, however, had an issue. One of the youngest recruits, Parker, was having trouble treading water. Soap gave him a second, seeing if any of the others would aid him, when they did not Soap ran to the side of the pool.

“Come on Parker!” Soap shouted. “You got this.”

Parker was pale, spluttering. The kid was panicking.

“Shit.” Soap jumped into the pool grabbing Parker by the vest and attempted to steer him towards the side of the pool. Panicked Parker swung his elbow back clocking Soap in the face, and splitting his lip.

"Oi, ye shit." Soap growled cursing under his breath Soap struggled, fighting with Parker to get him to safety. Where the hell was the other sergeant? As they neared the edge of the pool Parker flung himself towards the edge inadvertently slamming Soap’s head into the concrete side.

Dazed, Soap let go of Parker’s vest, inhaling sharply in pain. Unfortunately for Soap that meant inhaling a mouth full of water. In his panic to get out Parker used Soap as a ladder and stepped on his head forcing him beneath the water. Soap felt what little air he had escaped as he began to sink. Soap swam for the surface, only to be kicked in the sternum by a flailing boot. All of the remaining air escaped him in a whoosh of bubbles as Soap slowly began to sink.

He was drowning. He was fucking drowning like a damn greenie on their first day. Strangely, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The damn pool was only ten feet deep, and yet…Soap felt like he was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He was so tired. Two weeks of barely eating, hardly sleeping, and working out as though nothing was wrong left him irrevocably weakened. Soap would have laughed at that if he had any air. He felt his lips turn up in a rueful smile as the edges of his vision darkened. Through half lidded eyes he watched the water shift in the sunlight above him. It was strangely peaceful considering his current predicament. He wondered if they would notice if he was gone…

“Don’t you die on me you Irish bastard!" Gaz shouted in his ear. Soap was forcibly rolled to his side while a large hand thumped on his back. Soap felt the water burn its way back up--rolling he threw up. The chlorine burned his nose and lungs as he gulped in fresh air. "Oh thank God!" Gaz leaned over Soap easing the Scot onto his back.

"'M fookin Scottish ye smarmy cunt." Soap wheezed. Black spots danced across his vision making it hard for him to focus. Groaning Soap closed his eyes, turning his head to the side he focused on taking scorching breaths through his nose. There was rustling all around him, Gaz was busy fussing over him as a low murmur he couldn't quite place, surrounded them both. Soap let himself slip back into the ether.

"Go get a medic now." Gaz snapped at someone unseen. Soap barely stirred, he still felt like he was floating. How strange. A recruit yelped an affirmative and scurried off. The murmurs grew - the recruits were whispering Soap realized. Somewhere off to the side, a door slammed open, and heavy boots slammed into the ground towards them.

"Easy Ghost!" Gaz shouted. "It was an accident!"

Ghost? Soap thought sluggishly. No…Ghost shouldn't be here...

Then he felt large hands wrap around his face, turning him up as something soft skimmed his nose.

That tickles. Soap sighed.

"Why haven't you moved him to medical?" Ghost demanded, the soft thing moving away from Soap's nose.

"'M fine." Soap coughed. Why was it so hard to talk? "Just let me sleep…"

"No Johnny." A gloved hand tapped Soap's face. "Don't go to sleep. Not yet."

"Pffff. What d'ye care…" Soap sighed, his chest felt so heavy. Ignoring his screaming body, Soap rolled to his side. Bracing his arms beneath him he carefully pushed himself up to his knees, then to his feet. Black spots filled his vision again. "Fucking hell." Soap groaned.

"Johnny?" Ghost didn't sound right. He sounded worried. "Johnny, hang on."

Soap felt Ghost's hand on his shoulder.

"I dinnae need–" The world tilted on its axis. The ground rushed up to meet him - then he felt his body being lifted - weightless he really did float. He could still hear Ghost calling his name distantly. He really wished Ghost wouldn't worry so much. He just needed to sleep…

[lost-my-sanity]

Turning Tides

chapter 2: Hard decisions, Harder Muscles.

I decided on accepting the invitation to have dinner with the fishmen, Arlong said he would allow me that time to figure out if I wanted to join them or not.

Honestly I still was undecided. I didn’t like what they did to the people of the village, especially bell-mere, but I had seen far worse done by the hands of humans. Unfortunately I had even been on the receiving end of it on a few occasions.

Things were different in town now. Everyone was hiding away in their homes, praying for the fishmen to leave them be, hoping their tribute money was enough to buy them some protection from the destruction.

I was lucky enough to be able to walk freely down the street without anyone bothering me. I headed to the woods to try and clear my head, whatever I decided would change the course of my life, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that or not, but at this rate I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

I sat on a large rock that overlooked a small stream that Nami often could be found playing with her sister when she wasn’t getting in trouble or trying to draw maps. She was a good kid for the most part, a little annoying sometimes, but what kid isn’t at her age….

I look up to the sky as my thoughts become even more of a mess. I’m drawn away from my dilemma for a moment when I realize a large body has situated itself near me, leaning against the rock.

“My sweet little thing, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Arlong’s deep voice rang out, startling me for a second.

“Uh um, I’m just thinking is all” I try to convince not only him but myself as well.

“Would that thinking perhaps be about a handsome shark fishman?” He said, sharp teeth on full display as he gave me a flirtatious smile.

“Well… kinda if I’m being honest” I state, not really sure if I could come up with a convincing enough answer other than the truth.

“Hmm, and what exactly are you thinking about?” He questioned me while taking a large finger and twirling it around a strand of my hair.

“I… I don’t know what to do… these people have been good to me, but… they don’t know the real me. I don’t think they deserve to be punished for existing though. That would make us no better than the people that sell our kind out for slavery” I state, eyebrows knitted and bottom lip pouting in conviction.

“You are too sweet, little one” murmured, his saw-like nose now inches away from my own.

“We are better than these humans, and they should learn their place. How about I make you a deal? Join me, stand by my side and I will not harm a head on anyone else in this village as long as they continue to pay their fees to me.” The shark fishman stated, looking me deep in my eyes.

“You really promise you won’t hurt them?” I ask, not sure if he was telling the truth or not.

“With you by my side, my sweet siren, I wouldn’t need to hurt them.” He replied coolly, a small smirk on his face.

“I’m sure that there would be more productive ways we could get out all of my frustrations” He purred as he began to run his long webbed fingers across my shoulders.

He was really attractive, his rippling muscles evident through the open shirt he had on, a gold chain across his neck and a matching bracelet on his wrist. He had sturdy legs that he must use to propel himself through the water.

He really was a magnificent sight to see.

“Okay…” I took a few deep breaths in and out before I looked him back in the eye. I held my back straight and with a confidence I was mostly just pretending to have.

I

“Okay… I’ll join you.”

@pixleslutz

[libraryofneith]

Out of Mind - Chapter 6 (Joel Miller x Female Reader)

@hiroikegawa @evyiione​ If anyone else want to be added to the taglist so you know the minute this is updated, let me know. Otherwise please show your appreciation via likes, comments and reblogs : D 

Sorry it’s been sooo long since I updated :’( FYI  I'll be working and travelling a lot over the Summer so won't be updating very frequently. I haven't abandoned the work, I love writing this, but unfortunately life gets in the way. Especially when you're singing your way through the Scottish highlands.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Summary: You finally meet the infamous Bill and Frank.

Warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI], honestly this is a very tame chapter, just some chill Bill and Frank goodness, hints at queer Tess, Joel sees reader in a dress for first time and exe. stops working. 

He wants to tell her that she looks pretty, that she always looks pretty, that for a brief second when he saw her he wasn't in the middle of an apocalypse anymore...

You

You fucking love Bill and Frank. And Frank fucking loves you, Bill is wary but as you're informed, that's not necessarily a bad sign. He's suspicious of anyone new which is fine - you're already used to that from Joel. In fact, Bill seems to be an older and, if possible, scruffier version of Joel: both hard-wired to survive no matter what, both with impenatrable emotional walls and both fiercely protective of the few people who have managed to scale those walls. Unfortunately you have not yet succeeded in scaling either of theirs, so thank god for Frank.

He's completely unlike anyone you've met since the world ended. The complete and utter devastation doesn't seem to have darkened his warmth and kindness. In fact, if anything, it's made it shine all the brighter. He's not naïve or foolish as you know some people would dismiss him, he's well aware of the relentless cruelty of the world beyond the gates of the home he shares with Bill and he's determined to fight it; not with guns and brutality but by creating a space of joy; somewhere people can live instead of merely surviving. It's a rare thing and it's something you didn't realise you were craving until you found it.

You and Frank connect the moment you lay eyes on each other.

"She's cute. Did you adopt her at a shelter?"

"Actually they fed me and I followed them home." "Excuse you," Tess interjects, "I think you'll find she stole from us."

"Right, then I followed you home."

"Oh this is rich! You gotta tell me the whole story," Frank gushes as he links his arm through yours and leads you away from a disconcerted Joel, Tess and Bill. From that point on you two are practically inseperable. You leave Joel and Tess to haggle with Bill while you paint, garden and explore the town with Frank.

"So I gotta ask..." Frank ventures as he gives you a tour of the small abandoned village, preserved as a shrine to those who were taken from it and the life they led, "what exactly is the relationship between you guys?"

"Us guys being?"

"You, Tess and Joel."

"Well, in theory the arrangement was that I'd come work for them, put my skills to use and they'd put a roof over my head and give me some measure of protection."

"And in practice?"

"This is the first time that they've let me anywhere near a job, though Joel did take me for shooting practice and I saved him from an infected, so that was cool." Frank gapes at you.

"You saved Joel?"

"Ummm... he kinda had to save me straight after, but I saved him first." "

Right, but what I mean is..."

"They don't hurt me if that's what you're worried about." Frank jerks to a stop.

"I... I didn't mean... Ok that's good."

"Look, if you're about to give me the whole you don't know what you're getting into with them speech, don't bother. I know what they are and what they do. I know because I've done it too. I'm not some innocent flower who needs protecting from the big bad world. However bad those two are, I've seen worse. And at the end of the day I'd rather have them on my side than face the worse alone."

There's a somewhat awkward pause as Frank mulls over your little speech and you give him time to figure out what to say.

"Ok then," he eventually lets out. "I'm glad you're looking out for yourself. Sorry, didn't mean to pry."

"That's alright, you weren't"

"It's just... look, I love Tess and Joel, they're like family - yes, even Joel - but I know they're not always - what I mean is, they have to do a lot to survive." You nod slowly.

"We all have."

"But it's good we've all found people."

"Well, I'm not sure if I'd classify Joel and Tess as my people just yet. Tess is nice but I feel like I'm still on probation with Joel."

"No, Joel likes you."

"What?" "He's a grumpy son-of-a-bitch but he likes you underneath all that- you know..." and he does a more than passable imitation of Joel's scowl.

"I don't- how do you- why are you saying this?" He gives you a sympathetic look.

"I think you know why."

"Oh god!" You cringe, covering your now crimson face from his view.

"It's ok, I get it. For all his emotional constipation, Joel's really got that sexy smouldering thing going on."

"I don't- ugh- I know nothing will come of it. It's just a crush. I'll get over it." An inscrutable expression passes over Frank's face at that moment.

"I'm sure you will. You know there's a boutique on this street."

"Boutique... like... for clothes?"

"Handmade too. You wanna check them-" but you're already dashing up the street in the direction of the hand-made with love fashion sign.

---

Joel

"So... you picked up a stray?" Joel can feel his face flush as he busies himself setting plates on the dining table.

"This ain't a free ride. She works for us."

"Doing what exactly? Goofing off with Frank?"

"She gotta learn first before we let her in on our business."

"Interesting response to someone stealing from you: letting her into your home."

"Weren't my idea. Tess was the one who took a shine to her."

"And you just tolerate her right?"

"Right." It's only when he says it out loud that it sounds unnecessarily cold. "I mean... look, she's a nice girl I just... I'm not sure if we can rely on her."

"That's all?"

"Well what else would it be?" Bill gives him that can't pull the wool over my eyes look.

"She's pretty." He gives Bill a look of his own.

"I know I'm not exactly the best judge but she's not exactly an eye sore."

"I don't think Tess was too worried about that."

"How would you know?" There's a smile in Bill's eyes - as much of a smile as he's capable of. Does he know something about Tess I don't?

"It ain't like that alright?"

"Whatever you say."

"Shut up." The sound of the door closing thankfully prevents Bill from offering any retort.

"We're back." Frank calls out.

"Great, just in time to not help out with any-" Joel stops short when he sees her: the low evening sun shining behind her, creating a glowing outline almost like a halo, dress wrapped loosely around her body, swishing about her legs with each movement. Her hair has been pulled out of its normal messy high ponytail and braided into a loose plait, a soft frame around her smiling face.

"Well shit." Tess emerges with a smile on her face. "Look at you."

"You like it? I found it at that clothing boutique."

"I love it."

"Joel." Frank snaps him out of his trance. "What do you think? Doesn't she look pretty?" He can suddenly feel everyone's eyes on him. He can't bring himself to look her in the eye, shit, he's grasping helplessly for something to say.

"You can't wear that on the hike back." Everyone's eyes roll.

"No shit Sherlock I wasn't planning on it."

He wants to tell her that she looks pretty, that she always looks pretty, that for a brief second when he saw her he wasn't in the middle of an apocalypse anymore, he felt like a kid at the first sign of Summer; but she's already gone, and you're both spared what would inevitably be a very shameful outburst.

He's still watching you all the way through dinner as you grin and whisper in Frank's ear - whatever you say prompting a snort of laughter and a disconcerting glance in his direction. You even manage to coax a smile out of Bill, telling him this risotto is the best you've ever had, assuring him you're not put off by the inclusion of mushrooms. You allow him to lecture you about the wine he's paired it with - how the sharp undertones compliment the tanginess of the parmesan. Honestly it all tastes like wine and cheese to Joel. You catch his eyes in a subtle smile, indicating that the same is very much true for you, but it's nice that Bill is warming up to you.

After dinner, Frank drags everyone to the piano and despite Bill's protests that he will absolutely NOT be playing, he is forced to interfere when Frank plays so badly it hurts everyone's ears.  

"Works everytime" Frank whispers to you triumphantly as Bill rifles through his collection of songbooks. After discarding almost every book in the pile, Bill picks up a 'Best of Elton John' collection to a chorus oohs and that one that one from you, Tess and Frank. With a heavy sigh he flips open the pages and launches into the opening bars of 'Your Song'.

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside..." Frank and Tess start crooning as Bill cringes. Joel remains silent. With enough liqour down him he might join in, and before he's completely fucked out of his mind he might be persuaded to grab their dusty old guitar out of the attic, but he's nowhere near that drunk yet, so he hangs back and listens as they launch into the chorus:

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you're in the world." Joel can hear something else now above Tess and Frank's out-of-tune wails, someone singing a sweet soft melody; a voice that if he heard it on the radio in another life, he would've cranked up the volume and danced to around his kitchen.

"I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss, well a few of the verses they've got me quite cross." Tess and Frank gradually taper off as everyone realises that the beautiful sound is coming from you.

"But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song, it's for people like you that keep it turned on..." your voice fades as you realise you're singing on your own. "Sorry, did I do something wrong?"

"No sweetheart." Frank and Tess are grinning brilliantly. "Keep going."

"So excuse me forgetting, but these things i do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or blue." Joel can feel that tugging feeling in his chest again and suddenly he wishes he had his guitar with him right now. He knows the chord progression, it's not hard, and he wants to hear how your voice would sound over his playing.

"Anyway the thing is what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen." Frank and Tess come in for the last chorus and everyone is dewy-eyed by the time they finished. Frank pulls you in for a hug as Bill asks:

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You're blushing, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

"You're not the only Elton John fans left y'know."

"No, I mean how did you learn to sing like that?"

"Don't know, I've always been able to really." Bill turns to him and Tess.

"You two could get her to busk - you'd make more money than you ever do smuggling."

"I'd rather be eaten by infected" you butt in quickly, earning a laugh from Tess.

"I think we're more suited as smugglers than roadies."

"Joel?" Frank is giving him yet another piercing stare. "Wasn't she great?" That familiar feeling of panic is clutching him again: the sense of everyone's eyes on him, the feeling that his heart has been ripped out of his chest and splayed across his face, but he resists the urge to grunt or say something non-commital. He forces himself to look at you when he says:

"You sang great."

He wishes his chest didn't burn when he sees you smile.

---

Here’s what I imagine the dress would look like.

[crooked-corvid-whump]

Part 2 to this post

tagging @mj-or-say10, who requested a part 2! :))

Warnings: Implied/referenced noncon, noncon touch, noncon kissing (kinda), burns, collars, dehumanization, lmk if I’m missing anything

(PS-- Could possibly become a longer series, if anybody would be interested?? If so, should I give the characters names or leave them with the placeholders? Lmk!)

Caretaker had gotten off relatively easy that night. Teammate D was by no means kind, but he was better than the others, and, when all was said and done, Caretaker was left with only a couple of bruises splotched here and there. It hadn’t taken long, and afterward he was left to find what rest he could while Teammate D did the same. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t much rest at all. Caretaker rarely slept— and he never slept well— but tonight was even worse than usual because he couldn’t stop thinking about the concubus. About the way they’d screamed as Whumper B held their arm over the fire. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he could still see the desperate terror that had danced with the reflected firelight in their eyes. 

He knew he couldn’t have done anything to stop it. He knew that. In all likelihood, if he’d tried, both of them would have been punished and he would have made it worse. But that didn’t stop the guilt that threatened to choke him because he should have done more. He should have done something. He’d been their only potential ally in a crowd of people who treated their torture as a form of entertainment and he’d just sat there. 

They hadn’t looked to him for help. They hadn’t looked to anyone; they had known no help was coming. That isolation, that knowledge that no one around you would intervene no matter what they did to you— it was a kind of fear he knew all too well, and his stomach churned. He knew exactly how they must have felt, kneeling there by that fire, all eyes on them as both people they knew and ones they didn’t watched with rapt attention as their skin blistered and bubbled. 

Memories weren’t the only thing that kept him awake, though. From a few tents away, he could hear them crying. He could hear other things, too— things that made it clear that Whumper was not yet asleep— and Caretaker did his best to stop his mind from conjuring up images to accompany the sounds, to no avail. Images rose up to craft sorely unwanted scenarios of what was happening to the other demon just a couple of tents away. What Whumper was doing to them. 

For hours he lay like that, trying not to listen to the sounds he couldn’t help hearing. Possibilities blended and blurred with memories until Caretaker was lost in recollections of hands in his hair, hands around his throat, hands roaming hungrily over his body, nails raking down his back, teeth pressed to his skin hard enough to draw blood. He shuddered as bile rose in his throat. His nails pressed into his palm, the pain bringing him back from the ledge he’d been teetering on, and he heaved a breath. Not now, he thought. Not here. 

Caretaker pushed himself upright and slid off the cot, slipping, unnoticed, out of the tent. He wandered toward the fire pit and slumped on one of the logs, staring numbly at where the fire had been. The night air was cold, but he didn’t bother expending the energy to conjure up some warmth. Besides, the chill kept him present. 

No one disturbed him as he sat there. No one came to drag him back into the tent to make sure he wouldn’t bolt. They all knew just as well as he did that Caretaker had nowhere else to go and very little chance of making it very far before they caught him again, so they didn’t bother wasting time or resources on keeping him locked down. It was almost worse than if they did put him in chains, and sometimes Caretaker wondered if it was on purpose. If it was just another way to taunt him, a display of power. Like he was a well-trained dog, so obedient that no leash was needed to keep him at his master’s heel. He scowled. 

Not for the first time, his mind went to the plan he’d been cooking up to make his great escape. It was just a pipe dream, of course, just a comforting fantasy, but he sometimes wondered if maybe… 

He had it all worked out. In this little daydream of his, he would barge into Whumper’s tent in the middle of the night and take the keys for the trucks. Whumper couldn’t stop him. He may have been half-starved, but he was still a demon, and Whumper was only human. If it came down to it, Caretaker could overpower him easily. Then, he’d get into the smallest, least conspicuous of the vehicles and simply drive away and never look back. 

It was easy in his head. Easy enough that it almost seemed achievable, until he factored in the hundreds of ways it could and surely would go wrong. Even if he made it out, where would he go? To the nearest city, to be immediately discovered by the king’s soldiers? To the woods, with nowhere to stay and no human energy to feed on? Even going to a mage hideout would be a risk, considering what he was, and that was assuming he could even find one.

It was impossible. Of course it was impossible. It was a stupid plan. But sometimes he wondered.

At some point during Caretaker’s daydreaming, the noise from Whumper’s tent had subsided, save for the concubus’ gentle and unrelenting crying. Even that had gotten softer, so quiet now that Caretaker wouldn’t have been able to detect it if he was human, but he wasn’t. His heart ached for them. He wanted to go to them, to be one bright spot for them in the suffocating darkness they were both caught in. He wanted to break Whumper’s fingers for touching them because god, they were so small. Not physically— they weren’t young by human standards, not by a long shot, and maybe not even by demon ones— but Caretaker was an expert in reading people and everything about them screamed gentleness. Innocence. They don’t deserve this.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t know them— they were the only one of his kind he’d seen since being cast out of his home, and he needed them to be safe. There was a bond there, an innate tie to one another simply because they were both foreigners to this realm and they were both hurt for that. 

Maybe he was the only one that felt it. Maybe they hadn’t given him a second thought. But it didn’t matter because he did feel it, and it fucking hurt. 

That half-baked escape plan was looking more enticing by the minute. If he could get them out of this…maybe it was worth the risk. 

He shook that thought away. Hope was a dangerous thing for people like him, moreso when it was most assuredly a false one. It wouldn’t— couldn’t— happen, and it wasn’t worth dwelling on. He tried to reel in his wandering thoughts, bring them back to safer topics, but the only other thing he could focus on was the sound of the concubus’ soft whimpers. That, and the steadily growing urge to sneak into Whumper’s tent to see them. 

It was only a few more minutes before he gave in. 

Caretaker stood and made his way soundlessly to the front of the tent, pushing back the flap and slipping inside. The setup was sickeningly familiar to him, down to the placement of the cot and the flickering candle on the engraved pewter dish. On the cot, Whumper was sound asleep, his hair mussed and his torso bare. 

Caretaker grimaced and turned away, immediately catching sight of Whumpee, who was curled in a ball on the ground. Unsurprising. Whumper had no problem fucking a demon, but god forbid he let one sleep in his bed. He’d always made his disgust at that notion abundantly clear. 

A flimsy leash that was clearly more for show than functionality was clipped to Whumpee’s collar, tethering them to a leg of the cot. 

Whumpee hadn’t looked up when Caretaker came in, and they remained motionless as he took a few careful steps toward them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure they knew he was there. He moved to the side so he was approaching them from the front, making sure to move slowly so he wouldn’t startle them, but when they still didn’t show any sign that they’d noticed his presence, he knelt down in front of them. 

They jolted, then, tensing and drawing in a sharp breath as they blinked up at him, a soft whine catching in their throat. They bit their lip, their eyes flicking nervously back and forth, to his face and then away. 

Caretaker offered them what he hoped was a reassuring smile, relaxing his posture to try and seem less of a threat. Whumpee glanced back at him, and when they saw his kind expression, some of the fear in their eyes melted into uncertainty. 

It was a step in the right direction, at least. 

Whumpee shifted, eyeing Caretaker cautiously as they pushed themself into a sitting position, their knees drawn to their chest. In the flickering candlelight, Caretaker could see the tear tracks staining their cheeks, as well as several fresh bruises. As his eyes travelled down, cataloguing their injuries, he found another bruise peeking out from under their collar, deep, violent purple ringing their throat. A bite mark above their collarbone. Angry red scratches curling over their shoulder. And, of course, the vicious burns on their arm. It was a struggle to keep the anger from showing on his face, but he managed.

When Caretaker looked back up to meet Whumpee’s gaze, their brows were furrowed in confusion, but their eyes were wide with— what? Recognition? Awe? Caretaker didn’t understand at first, but he realized after a moment that they were staring at his horns. 

“You’re…” They trailed off. Their voice shook and it sounded raw— probably from the screaming, or the crying, or a combination of the two. They didn’t finish their thought, but it didn’t matter. Caretaker knew what they meant. 

“Yeah. I am.” He smiled a little wider, a little softer. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen another demon.”

They just nodded. 

The wariness had gone from their gaze, and they stared at him now with a reserved intensity that he found hard to describe. It was subdued, but at the same time desperate, and almost…almost a little hopeful. It was a strange thing to be on the receiving end of. Whatever that little flicker of hope was, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. To be whatever it was they were hoping he’d be.

At that moment, Whumper stirred. It was brief, a slight shift of position, but Whumpee jerked back as though struck. Their eyes went wide and wild with panic, their breath catching in their throat as a whimper slipped past their lips before they could stop it.

It was quiet, but it was enough.

As Caretaker tried to calm them down, tried to reassure them that they were safe, Whumper’s eyes blinked open. The grogginess of his sudden awakening lasted only a moment, and then he was on his feet, his eyes narrowed and focused squarely on Caretaker.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, incubus?” 

Caretaker stood and plastered on his trademark smirk, shifting to the side to shield Whumpee from Whumper’s view.

“Just stopped by for a little visit. Got a problem with it?”

Bad move. Whumper closed the distance between them, and in an instant his hand was fisted in Caretaker’s hair, yanking harshly.

“I’ve got a problem with you. I thought I’d taught you some fucking manners by now. But if you need a refresher, that can be arranged.” 

Caretaker laughed. He was already in deep shit— may as well commit to it. 

“Have you considered that maybe you’re just not a very good teacher?”

Whumper’s eyes blazed with fury. He backhanded Caretaker across the face. Hard. 

“Stop it! Don’t hurt him!”

Whumper turned to Whumpee, who had gotten to their feet as well, and grinned mockingly. “Oh look, the little toy learned to speak.” He cocked his head to the side. “I suggest you unlearn it, unless you’re looking for an encore to our performance earlier.” 

They cringed back, fear flashing across their face, but they held their ground. 

“Fuck you. J-just leave him alone.” 

Whumper lit up with a sick delight. He released Caretaker, stepping around him and advancing on Whumpee. They stumbled back, but the leash clipped to their collar only let them get so far.

“What was that?” Whumper’s tone walked the line between anger and excitement, and it made Caretaker’s skin crawl. Whumpee just shook their head frantically as Whumper approached.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I-”

“No. Say it again.”

“J-just leave him a-alone…”

“No, no, the bit before that. Say it.” 

Whumper was upon them now, and he hooked a finger in the front of their collar as they hyperventilated, still shaking their head. They’d started crying again. 

When Whumper leaned in, his teeth scraping against their throat, they stopped moving, though their body still shook violently and their chest still heaved with panicked sobs. 

That was too much for Caretaker. He surged forward, pulling Whumper away from Whumpee and shoving him to the floor. Whumper stared up at him in incredulous fury. Before he could get up to retaliate, Caretaker sent a surge of magic at him, stunning him. 

“The keys. Where are they?”

Whumper only glared. Sensing that he might need a little encouragement, Caretaker focused, conjuring an invisible band of magic around Whumper’s neck and squeezing until Whumper started gasping for breath, his face turning a bright red, then blueish. Caretaker relented, then asked again. This time, Whumper twitched his finger, managing enough movement to point to his pocket. 

Caretaker leaned down and snatched the keys. He sent another, stronger surge of magic at Whumper, and this time he made it hurt. He smirked when Whumper eked out a sound that surely would have been a scream had his throat not been paralyzed, then turned to Whumpee. They were still shaking, still gasping in short, hiccupping breaths, and still crying. 

Caretaker went to them and reached for them slowly, giving them time to move away. When they didn’t, he rested a hand on their shoulder, waiting again for them to pull away. They didn’t. He took a small step closer, and they surprised him by closing the short distance between them, burying their face in his shoulder. His arms came up around them, holding them tightly as they trembled against him, running one hand soothingly over their back while the other came up to subtly unclip the leash from their collar. 

He hushed them softly, cooing gently to them while they cried. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

When they finally caught their breath, Caretaker drew back reluctantly. 

“C’mon. We’ve gotta go now, yeah?”

The concubus sniffed and wiped their eyes with shaky hands, nodding. When he offered his hand, they took it and followed him out of the tent.

They made it to the vehicles unhindered, and Caretaker unlocked the doors of the nearest one, helping Whumpee into the passenger seat. He rounded the front and climbed in on the driver’s side, then shoved the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and as he backed the vehicle out of the circle and drove away from the camp, the crunch of leaves and gravel beneath the tires was music to his ears.