#it's been a mere two days of pair programming and me struggling to remember which one a semi-colon is and wtf quotation marks are called

[dkettchen]

I have a new nemesis, her name is technical communication

coding bootcamp is going great why do you ask

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student. 

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much. 

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

           For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

           Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

           Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

           But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

           Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

           She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

           Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

           When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

--

           It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

           In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

           This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

           She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

           This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

           She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

           Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

           Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

           This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn 

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me. 

           That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

           The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

--

           Spencer is horribly frustrated.

           A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

           At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

           The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

           And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

           Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

           Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

           And play she has.

           From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

           The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

          Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

          “I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

           She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

           “Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

           The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

           The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

--

           “Where are we going?”

           Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

           Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

           Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

           “Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

           Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

           “Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

           He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

           “Spencer, please.”

           Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

           “Yes, my love?”

           Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

           “I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

           “Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

           “I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

           Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

           “You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

           Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

           A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

           “Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

           Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

           Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

           “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

           “Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

           Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

           “You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

           Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

           Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

           “That’s why.”

           Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

           The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

           “I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

           “Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

           “You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

           Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

           “Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

           Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

           “Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

           A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

           “Jump.”

           It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

           Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

           “Spencer!”

           Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

           His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

           “You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

           Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

           “I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

           Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

            She silences those fears with a kiss.

           “Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

           Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

           “Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

           “Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

           Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

           “I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

           “Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

           She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

           “Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

           “Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

           She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

           While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

           A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

           “It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

           Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

           “As they should. That was sensational.”

           Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

           The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

           “What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

           Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

           “I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

           As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

           “I have a few ideas.”

-

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taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox​ @whxt-to-write @calm-and-doctor @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

[flowingwithwater]

Smile

A/N: One shot, kinda long, enjoy xx

Summary: Nat is R’s trainer, R is on love. They go on a mission, R gets hurt protecting Nat. Nat feels guilty but R tells her, she’d do it again - fluff follows.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Words: ~ 5k

“Again. Get up and throw a punch. C’mon y/n” it took everything in you to not roll your eyes at the antics of your trainer. You had been going at it for a couple of hours now and honestly you were beat. Laying on the mat you looked up at the beautiful women. She was looking down on you, a slight sheen of sweat covering her face and collarbones. For a second you zoned out just looking at her until you felt her kicking your feet.

“What’s wrong? Already in dream land? Get up. One more round and then we’ll have lunch.” At the mere thought of food your felt adrenaline rush through your body and you jumped up excitedly. A slight chuckle coming from the other woman, “if only the success of training had that effect on you.”

“Well, what can I say?” You started getting in position. “getting punched in the face by an assassin is just not really motivating.” A smirk grew on your opponents face and the feeling it caused in your gut made you blush a little. God, there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t be absolutely fucking hot.

“Show me what you got and maybe I’ll allow you to have dessert.” she winked. She winked at you. The flirting between the two of you had been going on for a while. Ever since your first mission together, in which you had gotten to know each other on a more personal level, there was always something in the air.

You couldn’t decipher whether she meant what she said or if it was simply fun to her. But what you did know, was that it had caused you to fall head over heels for the woman. Not that you would tell her. Or anyone for that matter.

Refocusing on the fight ahead of you, you lifted your fists to somehow cover your face. Jumping back and forth on the tip o your feet, you prepared to make the first move.

You had learned quickly that if you would wait for her to start, the result would be a lot more painful. So, to avoid any broken bones you went for her face. Of course, you hit the air, you don’t think you’ve ever actually gotten her. Not even close. But that didn’t bother you, she was still the freaking Black Widow and you were a simple Agent.

The two of you exchanged some punches with almost none of them landing, until suddenly Natasha stopped in her tracks.

“All right let’s have lunch” she moved her hand towards the exit of the gym, and you were confused. Looking at her skeptically, your fists slacked, and your posture slumped.

“Uh,” you started uncertainly, “okayyyy. Let’s go…then.” slowly, really slowly you moved your back towards her only breaking eye contact once it was physically impossible to keep it. She was planning something, you were sure. You don’t remember a single incident when she would stop a fight just like that. Without a winner. No, something was going on here.

And just when that thought left your mind you were pulled back while you tripped backwards over her legs. Landing with a harsh sound on the floor. Her face came into view and she was smirking.

“Remember, always be aware of your surroundings!”

This time you rolled your eyes. “That was totally unfair, and you know it. No real enemy would just stop in the middle of a fight and then pull some shit like that.” you huffed when she outstretched her hand and pulled you up.

“Life is not fair. You and I both know that.” With a smile she dropped your hand, and you immediately missed it. She turned away from you and picked up her water bottle.

While she was drinking you took her in. How her neck moved when she drank the water, how there was a little more sweat now and one or two drops rolled down her neck and disappeared in her shirt. Your eyes moved down her body, her shoulders her arms, her butt…

Quickly you averted your eyes. You’re not a creep. It’s not normal to stare at a friend like that and you needed to stop. It wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Shaking yourself out of your stupor you went to grab a towel and your bag.

“I’ll take a shower real quick and then I’ll meet you in the common room, yeah?” Sending her one last smile you left the room while taking a deep breath. Walking away, you missed her eyes wandering down your body until you were out of her sight.

------

After a quick (cold) shower, you got dressed in some comfy clothes and made your way downstairs. You were one of the few simple agents that lived in the facility. But since you had literally nothing and no one, your job was your life and therefore it only made sense to live there.

When you proposed that to the other Avengers, they were happy about it. You didn’t really work with them much, except maybe Clint and Natasha but over time you had become great friends with them, and Tony was more than willing to design a room just for you.

Walking in the kitchen you saw Natasha already sitting at the counter, her hair up in a loose bun with some strands falling in her face. You kind of wanted to move them behind her ear so they wouldn’t bother her while reading the file in her hands. The file. You almost didn’t see that. Making your way over to her you asked,

“What’s that? You got a mission?”

She looked up at you and smiled softly. “No, we got a mission. It’s an easy one, but we’ll have to stay at a safe house for three days. We’re leaving tonight” staying at a safe house with her made you nervous. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have to do that, but since your feelings have only gotten stronger you were unsure how this was going to play out.

Swallowing your nerves, you plastered a big smile on your face. “Sounds like fun. But on to more important matters, what’s for lunch.” Eliciting a laugh from the redhead you couldn’t help but smile at her.

You loved her laugh. She didn’t do it very often, but it made your heart melt every time. It felt special when you were the one causing it. Smiling to yourself you turned around and made your way to the kitchen with Natasha following you closely.

 -----

“Ugh, this is the worst.” huffing you threw your bag on one of the two beds in the safe house. “How can we have so much money and our safe houses look like this.” exasperated you flopped down on the bed and moved your arm to cover your face.

“Oh, c’mon. We’ve had worse, don’t you remember Louisiana last year?” she asked with a slight smirk on her face.

“Oh god, don’t remind me. You’re right, that was the worst one, but this right here is a close second.” you moved your arm away from your face and your eyes searched the room until they landed on Natasha. She was unpacking some of her stuff.

For a moment you got lost in her movements. It was always mesmerizing to watch her do anything. She was never unsure of a single move and everything looked so elegant yet so lethal.

You groaned internally, she was only putting away some of her clothes and that’s what you were thinking? How can someone be so obsessed with another person?

Trying to distract yourself, you got up and made your way to the kitchen. “Hopefully, they filled the fridge. I’ll make us dinner and then we can go over the plan for tonight.” Not waiting for an answer, you opened the fridge and saw an acceptable amount of food. You were sure you could make something nice and immediately your thoughts were completely enraptured by your cooking plans.

After a couple of minutes of cooking, you felt the presence of the other woman behind you. She was quiet, which wasn’t new to you. While you considered Natasha a good friend, talking about deeply personal things was never something you had done. Not that you weren’t both interested but knowing how much both of you had on their plate, it just didn’t seem to be an easy conversation.

That’s why her next question surprised you. “So, what exactly got you to move into the Avengers facility?” she sounded so nonchalant, it took you a minute to figure out what to say.

Sensing your hesitation, she quietly said “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You turned around, and when you saw her looking at you intently your lips quirked up a bit. She looked beautiful in this light and you couldn’t help but just stare at her. She didn’t seem to mind because she did the exact same thing to you.

In this atmosphere you felt extremely safe. You always did when she was around, so you wanted to tell her everything about yourself. You just wanted her to know you and your story.

“I don’t have anything but this job. My father was an asshole and my mom died when I was very young. I lived with an aunt, but we never really got along, so I moved out when I was 16 and took my chances. I applied for this weird program that would assure you a job and financial help, you just had to pass some test. I passed it and just like that I was in the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D. It took me a while to climb the levels because I struggled with my social skills. I basically failed every single test about undercover work.” a light laugh left your mouth and when you looked up you saw green eyes focused entirely on you and what you were saying.

“Anyway, a while later I was introduced to one Clint Barton. He was great and we got along very well, but he was in the special division and I was not. So, we didn’t have a lot of jobs together.  But we hung out and stuff. Until he was called on this highly secretive mission in Budapest. I think his job was to exterminate an enemy but instead he brought her into S.H.I.E.L.D and she became one of, if not the best Agent. I’m not sure if you know her, she can be quite annoying.”

A washcloth hit your face and you started laughing. “You’re an idiot.” shaking her head, Natasha moved around you to get the dishes for the table. When she was right next to you, she paused and lifted her head.

“Thanks for telling me that. I appreciate it.” it was barely a whisper. She was so close, and it wouldn’t have taken much for you to kiss her. Two, maybe three inches and your lips would have touched hers.

Instead, you cleared your throat and moved away. “Well, uh you’re welcome. Set the table, I’ll bring the food in a second.”

Natasha looked at you for a while longer and then decided to just do what you had said. It almost seemed like she was reluctant to move. When she left the kitchen, you leaned against the counter and let out a long sigh. Slowly, you moved to get the food and carried it to the table, where the redhead was patiently waiting for you.

 ----

After dinner it was time to get ready. Both of you put your suits on and attached all the necessary weapons to it. You had some guns, but your favorites were always the knives. It was easier to move with them and quite honestly, you were also fucking good at it.

When you were finished, the two of you left the house and made your way towards the building you’d have to infiltrate in order to get some intel on some rich dude selling alien weaponry.

“Okay listen, we’ll go in, get the intel and get the hell out of there. No unnecessary fighting and no casualties but also, no captures. Someone comes for you, end it. Try not to die and we’ll be fine.”

A dry chuckle left your lips and you looked over at the redhead, “Wow, Nat. Your pep talks are almost as good as Steve’s.” She didn’t look at you, but you could see that small smile you liked so much. It made you happy and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

If only you could see that more often. Yes, the two of you spend a lot of time together, but there always seems to be some kind of barrier. There were moments in the past, when you felt like you were getting even closer, but every time she would pull away and not talk to you for a couple of weeks, finding excuses as to why she couldn’t train you that day.

Right now, you were in a good space. It had been a couple of months since that last happened and you had to admit it was the worst one. She wouldn’t talk to you; she wouldn’t look at you. It was hell and that was the time you realized your feelings were a lot more than just a crush.

You had made a plan to not let her back in if she decided to come back with an apology, but when she knocked on your door in the middle of the night, nervous as you’d never seen her, you couldn’t help yourself but forgive her.

So now, here you were. On a mission with you constantly thinking about her, knowing you were in love with her and not being able to keep your eyes off of her.

----

“The hallway is clear.” you whispered into your comms. Getting into the building was surprisingly easy and both of you were a little suspicious. But the mission had to be completed, so you continued to be careful.

“All right. Come back here and cover me while I retrieve the data.” you could here her voice in you ear. Nodding your head, you quietly walked back to where she was. Locking eyes and nodding in confirmation that the two of you were fine, you entered a room that looked like a control room.

While Nat put her gun away and walked to one of the computers, you turned around and made sure no one was coming. It was quiet. Too quiet. You were beginning to get concerned, checking the hallway again your turned around to her “Something feels off, Nat. Maybe we should go.”

Just when you finished your sentence, you heard a loud bang coming from the other side of the hallway. You were about to say something else when you heard Nat moving. “All right, got it. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Getting your guns out you made your way towards the exit. No one was in your way. There were no soldiers or agents or weapons. It was weird and that feeling in your stomach wasn’t dissipating.

“Nat, this is weird.” You turned your head to look back at her and that’s when you saw him. A lone Agent with a freaking sword in his hand, charging towards the two of you.

Without thinking you stepped in front of Natasha and were about to shoot when the sword lodged itself into your side. There was no pain and you barely registered the sword, until you pulled the trigger and it was removed by the body falling to the ground. All that happened within a single second.

“Y/n!” Nat was quick to catch you, before you fell on the ground. Her gun still raised she inspected your wound with a shaking hand. She was panicking.

“I’m fine Nat. I don’t think it hit anything vital. It just hurts like a bitch.” groaning, when she put pressure on your wound, you tried to reassure her.

She was frantic in her movements. You don’t even think she heard you or registered that you were talking. To calm her, you reached up to touch her cheek. “Nat, I am fine. Let’s just go, so nothing else happens.”

That helped and suddenly she stopped moving and looked down at you. Leaving was easier said than done. Just as you were about to move the sound of footsteps made you halt your movements. Locking eyes with Nat you both knew that there was a change of plans.

“Nat, we need to leave. Now.” Your hand was wrapped around her shoulders while she held on to you, trying not to touch your wound.

“They are probably blocking our point of entry. We can’t just go there with you hurt like that. Do you remember another exit?” she was nervous. You could feel her heartbeat from being so close and her hand on your waist kept squeezing in a rhythm almost as if she was trying to ground herself through your touch.

“There is no other exit, but I have an idea. If we get close enough, we can just blow them up and get out of here. I have three grenades on me.”

“You brought grenades? Are you fucking kidding me? You know those things are unpredictable, what if you get blown up while fighting hand to hand?” she whisper-screamed at you. Her face was set, and she was in full trainer mode. You rolled your eyes, wincing when you moved your body a little bit.

“Give me a break. Now is not the time. I have a fucking sword wound, I am losing blood and you want to lecture me about grenades? Just grab them and blow these assholes up so we can leave.” At the mention of your wound Nat’s face turned to a worried frown again.

“Okay, okay. Let’s got.”

With a groan, caused by the pulsating pain in you side, you walked towards the exit as fast as you could. Before you turned the corner, Nat guided you to the ground.

“Hey, hey what are you doing? Help me back up!” you couldn’t stop her from pushing you down, it was simply too much pain.

“You can’t fight, obviously. So, I’m going to throw the grenades and take care of possible survivors and then I’ll get you.” She was about to stand up, but you pulled her back down by her arm. Fear enveloped you heart. You didn’t know how many people were out there and there was no way you’d let her fight all of them alone.

“No! Nat, listen. We don’t know how many there are and what if it’s too many, what if the grenades don’t do shit. I can’t let you go alone.” At this point you were desperate for her to listen to you, but she was already reaching around you to get the three grenades.

Before she pulled away completely, she put her hand on your cheek and looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on this planet.

“You can’t help right now. I got this; I promise. So, you just sit here and be pretty and let me handle this, okay?” her eyes pierced yours and there was nothing but sincerity, love and a little bit of worry in them. Enraptured by her beautiful eyes you leaned into her touch and nodded slightly.

With one last look at you, she stormed off. All you could do was lean your head against the wall, put pressure on you wound and hope to the gods, that the woman you were in love with would come back to you.

After a couple of minutes of silence, you were almost happy when you heard the grenades go off. At least that meant she was still alive. Now you just had to wait a little while longer.

You listened closely, trying to make out any sounds; guns, fighting, anything. But it was completely silent except your own shallow breath.

‘This is taking too long. Something is wrong’ With a loud groan you moved to get up, just as you were about to try and stand up, a pair of warm hands landed on your shoulders. You looked up and there she was. Covered in debris but still beautiful as ever.

Seeing her made you realize how scared you really were. Tears started gathering in your eyes, you closed them and took a deep breath.

The two hands helped you up and one of her arms sneaked back around your waist. Leaning your head against hers you quietly whispered, “Thank God.”

The way back to the safe house took longer than expected, since you still couldn’t walk properly. But after what felt like hours, you were finally back in the warmth of the house and you couldn’t help but be glad to be back in this dump of a place.

“Come on, we need to clean the wound.”

Her voice seemed to be very far away and you realized you almost dozed of on the way here. She almost carried you at this point and you felt bad, so you quickly shifted your weight back on your legs.

In the bedroom, you sat down with a hiss. Her hands left your body and she quickly walked to the bathroom to get some stuff for you wound.

“Take your shirt off please and lay down.” You heard her voice a little clearer now and you did as you were told. Laying on the bed you mind drifted back to the moment you got stabbed. Even though it hurt like a bitch, a small smile grazed your lips at the thought of having saved her life. Honestly, you’d do it again in less than a heartbeat.

A dip on the side of the bed, made you open your eyes to look at Natasha. She was focused on cleaning you wound, as soon as the disinfectant touched your tender skin you couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath in.

“I’m sorry, but we have to clean it. I’m sorry.” Nat sounded terrible. Well, her voice was still beautiful, but it was laced with worry. You couldn’t help but scan her face.

Her brows were formed to a frown and her lips kept moving, apologizing repeatedly. Moving your arm without thinking, your fingers settled between her brown and smoothed the skin there.

“It’s okay. It just hurts.” You tried to reassure her, and it seemed like your touch was working. Her hands stilled and she moved into the touch of you hand. After two or three long breaths, her eyes moved to your face.

“I’m done. You should get some rest now and tomorrow we’ll clean it again.”

“What about you? Are you hurt?” you couldn’t see any wounds but you had to be sure. With a soft smile she answered.

“Just a little dirty from your grenades. I’ll take a shower and then go to bed as well. Rest, your tired, I can see that. Close your eyes, okay. Good Night.”

And with that she got up, gathered all the medical equipment, and moved away from the bed. Sighing you gave up the fight and finally closed your eyes to fall into a deep slumber.

 Opening your eyes, you looked around. It was still dark outside and you could see Natasha sleeping in the bed opposite from you. Realizing you woke up because you had to pee, you started moving into a sitting position.

A soft groan left your lips, but quietly so you wouldn’t wake up Natasha. Moving fucking hurt. After getting your left leg off the side of the bed, you slowly moved the rest of you body to follow. A couple of hisses later and you were standing, albeit shakily, but you were standing up.

“What are you doing, y/n?” Hearing sheets ruffle, it was only a couple of second later, that warm hands found their way to support you.

Guilty, you looked up “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but I uhm…I have to, you know, pee.” Your were thankful it was dark, the proximity of the woman was bad enough but her trying to help you use the toilet, which you were sure she would do, made you blush like an idiot.

“Alright let’s got.” She said matter-of-factly.  Without meeting her eyes you nodded and started walking towards the bathroom. You dreaded what was about to happen. You didn’t want this woman to see you pee, that was a 5-year relationship step.

To try and make this a little less awkward, you tried to crack some jokes. Honestly, you just wanted to hear her laugh. She was quiet, and not the “I am tired”-quiet but the “I feel guilty because you got hurt because of me and now I’ll help you however I can”-quiet.

But she didn’t even move her lips. There was no amusement, and she was definitely not in the mood to laugh. It made you a little sad but also you were worried. Natasha needed to know that you did not blame her in any way. It was not her fault.

The rest of the torture of using the toilet was spent in silence. Just when she helped you lay down, did you grab her hand before it moved too far away.

“Nat, this isn’t your fault. Stop beating yourself up, okay. I’ll be fine. And just so you know, getting sworded was on my list of ways to get injured anyways, so check.” Your thumb drew patterns on her hand but she still didn’t look at you. “Nat, please. Smile. I really need you to smile right now.”

There was no reaction. She didn’t look at you and she didn’t move either. You realized your words wouldn’t get through her thick scull so you did the only thing you could.

You shuffled towards the other side of the bed and pulled her with you at the same time. She was hesitant, but she slowly followed your lead and laid down beside you.

There was no touching except your hand on her lower arm, still drawing patterns. It was silent except for the sound of both of you breathing.

You felt at ease, there was no pain. All you could feel was her laying next to you. That was everything you have wanted for the past year. But this was not how you imagined it. You didn’t want her to feel guilty or sad. You wanted her to enjoy it, just like you did.

“Why did you do it? You could’ve let him just stab me. Why would you jump in the way?” her voice way quiet, hard to hear.

Now you were angry. Was she serious? It was not like you expected her to know about your feelings for her or the fact that you would literally die for her, no. But you did expect her to know that she means something to you and that you would protect however you could.

“Are you serious, Nat? I mean all these years of training and you can’t figure out why I took a fucking sword for you? I did it because I’d rather die, than see you get hurt. There is literally nothing on this fucking planet that I wouldn’t do to protect you. And if you haven’t figured that out by now, you are stupider than I thought possible.”

Okay, whew. That was maybe a little over the line. But you couldn’t help it. At this point, she should’ve known that you would do something like that.

Movement to your left startled you a little bit, especially when all of a sudden you were looking up into those beautiful eyes you regularly dream about.

“I know why you did it, because it’s the same reason why I’d do it for you. I can’t see you get hurt, okay. Especially for me. That is not an option, because if you think that you would die before something happened to me, I would murder every single human being on this planet to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.”

You didn’t know what to say. Did she just say, she felt the same way? Wait, did she just say she would annihilate the human race to protect you?

“Wow Nat, every single human being? That is a lot of people, you know. Need some help with that?”

Finally, you saw her lips move up in a smile. Finally, she was responding and fucking finally you felt like this might be the beginning of something. But before you could say anything else, she took the word.

“You are an absolute idiot.” With a final smile, she moved to grab you face and softly pressed her lips to yours. It was a soft kiss; she didn’t want to hurt you. But you could not get enough. It was like a fire erupted in your core and you moved to pull her even closer.

Pushing up, the kiss got more forceful. It was like a year of pent-up emotions all pouring out into this one kiss. One of her arms moved down your side, careful to not touch your wound, as she slowly pulled away.

Keeping her as close as you could, you smiled brightly at her.

“This was awesome, can we do it again?” with a soft chuckle, Natasha pressed another soft peck to your lips, before moving away again.

“As soon as you’re all healed up, okay. For now, let’s just sleep.”

“okay” you whispered softly. Slowly Nat moved to lay her head on the same pillow you were laying on. Taking your hand and intertwining your fingers she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“And don’t think just because this is going on, I’ll go less hard on you in training. This has no influence on any of that.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Content and happy, you closed your eyes with the feeling of the redhead cuddled in your side. Fucking finally this was happening. Fucking finally, you had someone, fucking finally you had her.

[mandy23bwrites]

Spice

Happy Birthday, Linzi <3 I hope you have an incredible day! I also hope that I did you justice with this piece and that you enjoy my own little take on your amazing story!

Fandom: Ready Player One

Character/Pairing: Nolan Sorrento x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, love triangle, unrequited love, love confession, female reader

Disclaimer: This piece is inspired by “Gluttony: Sugar” by @olderguysandcutiepies that you can find here

You must read that piece if you are to understand this one.

Word Count: 3122

Summary: Nolan Sorrento is full of surprises once you let your true feelings for him slip. Suddenly you’re thrust into a foreign world with plenty of questions and few answers.

Read on AO3

Tears stream down your face as you watch clamps being tightened around your shaking wrists. The scratchy jumpsuit is a far cry from the soft, silky dresses you’ve become accustomed to in the company of Nolan Sorrento. Thinking about him makes you struggle to choke back a pathetic sob and it draws an annoyed growl from the woman in front of you. You peer up at her through your lashes and are met with the steely, cold gaze of F’Nale Zandor. There’s no remorse or sympathy in her face - only determination as she continues strapping you in. 

 “Enough of your blubbering. He has no interest in you; you’re just another thing for him to play with until the next best thing comes along. Besides…” her voice turns from snappy to sadistic, “this is where you belong.”

 Your jaw gently falls open and begins to quiver at her statement. You’ve never done anything to this woman to warrant such a statement, but you’ve always known she didn’t like you. You figured it had to do with the way she stole lustful glances at Nolan that he never returned. But in a way… you figured she was right. Nolan had spared you from the Loyalty Center and he could put you right back in it, and apparently, he was. This time the sob can’t be held back, and new tears pour down your face.

 F’Nale’s face twists into one of disgust as she grabs your visor and forces it onto your head, strapping you in painfully tight. Your vision swims as the Oasis program boots up and you struggle to concentrate on your instructions as the life you’d grown accustomed to crumbles before you.

 ***** The Previous Day *****

 “Because I love you.”

 It had come spilling out, unintended. But there it was. A cheeky reply to the banter that was so natural in your relationship that you wouldn’t even remember what it was about later.

 What you did remember was the way Nolan’s face fell into one of shock, fear, and dare you say… dread? Like he had hoped that this would never happen, and suddenly it was and he was powerless to stop it.

 “What did you say?” His voice was shaky as his eyes searched your face for the truth and found only horror at your admission.

 “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

 “Didn’t mean it?” Your eyes were locked together and right now, you had to make one of the most complex decisions you’ve ever faced; nothing like the choice he gave you on whether to become a sixer or his eye candy. But you had become much more than that. And now you were faced with the precarious chance to take it to the next level or watch it fall apart.

 You could lie. Say ‘yes’, you hadn’t meant it, that it was just a bit of teasing that went too far and then hope he wouldn’t be offended by it and things could go back to how they were.

 Or you could tell him the truth. Say ‘no’, you had meant it, that your feelings for him ran deeper than the affection he was paying you to shower him in; that you would continue to do so whether you were paid to or not. That every word, every glance, every sound he pulled from you was genuine and had nothing to do with the money or gifts. Then hope he returned your feelings, granting you both the chance at something more. 

Otherwise… you didn’t want to think about the devastation you’d feel upon finding out he didn’t return your feelings. Nor how that would compromise this perfect little situation you found yourself in. Because maybe he didn’t want you around if you had feelings for him. Maybe he wanted a no-strings-attached affair that wouldn’t get messy.

 And things were certainly messy now. You bit your lip, trying to choose your words wisely. It was now or never.

 “No. I meant what I said. I just… I didn’t mean for this to be the way to tell you.”

 Unfortunately, he didn’t seem elated by the confession; if anything, he looked even more conflicted. He stood from where he was sitting next to you on the couch and backed away. He wore an expression you’d never seen on him - like a deer in headlights - and you hated it.

 “Nolan, I-”

 “I have to go.” With that, he sprung to action, grabbing his phone and keys then making a beeline to grab his coat, the beautiful navy one you liked so much. But you liked seeing him take it off, not put it on.

 “Nolan, wait!” You stumbled off the couch to try and stop him but he was too far ahead of you.

 “I’m sorry…” with a final sad, scared look, he closed the front door of his apartment. 

 You reached the door, hand on the handle, in time for you to hear the lock click into place. Your stomach dropped. You could easily unlock it and run after him. But that lock meant he really was running away. This wasn’t a short walk to get some fresh air; he needed much longer than that. And that was why you didn’t go after him. 

 He could have sent you away, kicked you out even. But he hadn’t. Although you had never expected him to run, it did present a small glimmer of hope. Maybe he just needed to sort out his feelings and then he’d be back.

 So with that semblance of hope, you returned to the couch on shaky feet, hoping he’d be back soon.

 ***** Present Day *****

 Nolan Sorrento takes a deep breath before unlocking his apartment and tentatively stepping inside. It’s been three days since he left you here and he’s nervous to see you. Maybe throwing himself into his work and staying at a hotel had been the cowardly thing to do, as was running away from the situation in the first place. Yet, the sudden confrontation of your feelings, in the face of his own long-held doubts and fears, had scared him.

 He had spent hours reasoning with himself over what to do. Had you really meant it? Or was it a way to secure his money for good? Based on your reaction to your slip-up, he figured you had been genuine. Which left him with a harder question: did he deserve it? You were one of the best things that had happened to him. You knew just how to tease him, how to thrill him, how to make him forget a long day of work. But you also knew how to listen, how to make him feel special and loved. Many days he didn’t believe it, didn’t think he deserved it. But maybe he did.

 You seemed to have fallen for him as he had fallen for you. You willingly chose to love him; you could have kept it a secret and let things go on as normal. But you had been honest, and he admired that. Your absence over the last few days had made him realize how much of an important fixture you were to his daily life. Without you there, he had felt a loneliness he hadn’t experienced since before you had met, a feeling he never wanted to feel again. 

It was time that he accept your feelings and allow himself the security of a more conventional relationship with you. He was ready to face you, to be open with you, and ask forgiveness for his panicked retreat.

 But as he looks around the space, it feels… empty. There aren’t any sounds of activity that he could hear, making his stomach drop. Had you run away? He calls out your name, moving from room to room, hoping to find you sleeping somewhere but the apartment is truly empty. His mind races, trying to figure out where you could be. 

 He whips out his phone and calls you. A wave of nausea hits him as he hears your ringer go off in another room: you had left your phone behind. He begins to pace. Figuring he has nothing to lose, he dials his head assistant, cutting her off before she could even greet him.

 “Shaunda, I need you to confirm that Y/N isn’t there at the plaza.” 

 “I’ll make sure the place gets a thorough sweep for her but the last time I saw her was when you called her in two days ago.” Nolan stumbles mid-step. Two days ago?! That was impossible...

 “What?!” He snarls.

 “Ms. Zandor met her upon arrival - said you had called her in and that she’d be her escort so I could focus on updating your rig.” He remembers Shaunda working on his rig, but he had never called you in, much less asked F’Nale to escort you.

 “Check every inch of that plaza. I want her found.” 

 “Yes, sir.” He ends the call without another word. Next, he plugs in F’Nale’s number and waits impatiently for her to pick up. But with each unanswered ring, ring, ring, his stomach grows tighter, tighter, tighter. He growls when it finally goes to voicemail and quickly ends the call, texting her instead: “Call me. NOW.”

 Turning on his heel, he makes his way back to his car, a scowl plastered on his face. F’Nale had some answering to do.

 *****

 Everyone knew better than to get in Nolan Sorrento’s way when he stormed the halls of the IOI headquarters and now was no exception. Crowds part when they see him coming, on a mission to find the head of the Loyalty division. He catches sight of her on the upper levels, near his office, looking like she’s trying to make a quick getaway.

 “F’NALE!” He roars and she freezes in place. He takes the stairs two at a time and she turns as he approaches, looking unbothered under his glare. Grabbing her suit lapels, he drags her into his office and shoves her against the nearest wall. This was uncharacteristic of him, but you were one of the few things that caused him to be irrational. And now with you missing… it seems a fitting time to do something out of character.

 “Where. Is. She?” He emphasizes every word, leaning in so that his face is mere inches from hers. 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nolan.” 

 “You damn well what I’m talking about!”

 “Oh, your little pet? She’s unavailable. After your spat a few days ago, it seemed like you two were over.” His head spun. He had only mentioned in passing that something had happened between the two of you and that he was taking some time to clear his head. How had she jumped to the conclusion that you were over?

 “Where, F’Nale. Where is she?” 

 “Why do you care so much? All she is is a pretty face! You deserve someone better! She’ll never be good enough for you! She’s not the one you go to when you need something important done, it’s me!” She flushes at her admission but remains resolute. Nolan leans back in shock. “Who’s the one who always has your back?! It’s me! Not her! I do your dirty work; I defend you when the board comes after you. What does she have that I don’t?!”  His anger is gone, replaced with dread. He knows damn well of F’Nale’s talents in taking care of problems. His stomach churns. He suspected she might have feelings for him, but he had simply brushed it aside. Now he knows it’s true and suddenly those talents he’s relied on terrify him.

 “What did you do to her?”

 “She’s where she belongs.” It takes him a moment. He blinks twice before tearing away and dashing out of the room. He flies down the stairs, F’Nale’s shouts for him to stop falling on deaf ears. (She curses her impulsiveness of throwing you in the Loyalty Center connected to the headquarters. If she hadn’t let her vengeful emotions get the best of her, if she had been more calculating, she should have shipped you off to one across the country. But her eagerness to get you into a pod as soon as possible and strap you in herself was too delightful an opportunity to pass up. She had reveled in the joy of watching you struggle being locked up for the past few days. But she’s paying for it now as the man she wants sprints off to unravel her work.)

 *****

 With every movement, the clamps on your wrists dig against the angry red marks that had been left when F’Nale first strapped you in a couple of days earlier. Since then, you’ve been unplugged to eat, sleep, and take breaks - although you knew you weren’t getting the number of breaks you should be, most likely compliments of the Loyalty Director herself. 

 You want to hate her, and you could when you let yourself think about your current condition long enough. You want to hate Nolan too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that, no matter how hard you tried. You’re numb when it comes to him. This doesn’t seem like something he would do to you, especially after his hasty getaway. Had all your time together really meant nothing? The way he looked at you made you think no, but the six-by-six pod said otherwise.

 Thankfully, your tasks in the Oasis are distracting enough that you don’t have a lot of time or energy to mull it over.

 Since the time you had been strapped in, you can sometimes make out a figure beyond your headset, just outside your door. You can only assume it’s F’Nale, enjoying the sight of you caged. So, when a shadow appears at your door, you think it could be her again, or a passing monitor making sure you’re working. 

 What you don’t see coming is the door being wrenched open and fingers undoing the stamp of your headset. The smell of familiar cologne hits you, making you gasp before the headset is pulled off you. You blink as your eyes adjust to the face in front of you, one you had memorized long ago. 

 Nolan Sorrento looks panicked and out of breath as you take in each other. Questions race through your mind but as your lips part to speak, you can’t find the words. You don’t need to though; he speaks instead.

 “I’m so sorry… I had no idea…”

 Of all the things he could have said, this is the least expected. This brings more questions than answers and you still don’t know what to say.

 He quickly turns his attention to undoing the clamps on your wrists as you begin to tremble. He had no idea?! So he wasn’t the reason you were in here?! The emotions you feel make your head spin; confusion, shock, relief, ...hope? 

 Tears spill down your cheeks as he kneels to undo the clamps around your ankles. And when he straightens to his full height again, you find matching tears on his face. He reaches out to touch your face, but you can’t help leaning away. He looks hurt by the rejection but also gives a tiny nod as if he understands why.

 “I’m so sorry… if I had known sooner… I swear to you, I thought you’ve been at the apartment this whole time. I never would have sent you here. Yes, I shouldn’t have run away; it was a cowardly thing to do, but what you said scared me and I didn’t know if…” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, looking for the right words to say. You’re transfixed by the raw core of him before you. He’s never been so vulnerable with you before, cementing the fact in your mind that he truly wasn’t responsible for you being here. “I didn’t know if you meant it. And when I knew you did… I didn’t think I deserved it.” 

He can’t meet your eyes, instead keeping his gaze low. You reach out your hands for him to take, as was customary to the boundaries you had set long before in this relationship: seeking the permission to touch. He quickly takes them and his face falters at the sight of your wrists rubbed raw from your restraints. You squeeze his hands and finally, he looks back up at you.

“You do deserve it, and I don’t ever want you to forget that. But… I think there’s a lot left to say… and I don’t think this is the place to do that…” His eyes widen as he remembers you’re both standing in the middle of the Loyalty Center, and he nods. 

“Let’s go home.” You give him a small smile. Home. Not his apartment. But your home. That sounds like a good start.

*****

 You glide confidently into Nolan’s office and you’re filled with warmth as he looks up at you and smiles. You’ve been visiting the IOI headquarters much more frequently, now that you were the girlfriend of the charming CEO. It was a title you wore proudly; as proudly as you wore the gifts he continued to lavish you with.

It had taken time to heal what had happened and reestablish the trust in him that F’Nale had shaken. But it had been worth it. Every day you saw more of his authentic self, not the facade he put on as the head of IOI. And every day you fell more and more in love.

Today had been another long day for him and he was too impatient to wait until he got home to see you. So he had called you in and you eagerly came. 

But as you approach his desk, something catches your eye. A wine bottle is sitting off to one side. He follows your gaze.

“I thought you’d like to see the newest addition before it gets put in the case. Maybe you’d like to do the honors yourself.” You quirk your eyebrow before carefully picking up the bottle. It was new; the year on the bottle was the current year. You look up at him, inquisitively.

“‘Important years’,” you murmur, repeating what he had told you when you first learned of the collection. He smiles, soft and maybe sheepish.

“Loving you is important.” Your eyes well up with tears and you bite your lip to keep from crying. You set the bottle back down and rush around his desk to embrace him, carding your fingers through his hair to pull him in for a kiss. He hums, content, and you melt into him. And when you finally pull back, you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“I can’t wait to expand your collection.”

[papipopsicle]

GHOSTBUSTERS

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: In which Y/N keeps bumping into various Avengers on missions, sometimes to their benefit and others not so much. As Bucky finally decides to go back into the field, he comes face to face with a ghost from his past life.

Song: Death Valley by Fall Out Boy

Warnings: swearing, general lack of morals

Words: 2.4K

feedback is always appreciated

     "You sure about this, Buck?" Steve asked, willing his reassuring nature onto the stoic man sat next to him. They were eight minutes from the drop sight in south Ecuador and only Gamora was joining them on the mission.

There was no way in hell he planned on backing out now.

James Buchanan Barnes no longer held the mantle of the Winter Soldier, but ever since Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, extracted the programming in his brain, he remembered everything. At first it was like puzzle pieces, fleeting memories and nightmares that he couldn't quite put together. But the last fifty years slowly found its way back. And the twenty before that of torture too.

Every bullet.

Every last breath.

Every tortured soul he killed for Hydra. And the lives he was forced to steal, forced to work along side with.

Wanda found out rather quickly his mind wasn't a happy place to venture into. She cried herself to sleep that night.

It took a long time for Bucky to realise his body was no longer a weapon, and longer to even begin trusting his prosthetic limb off the battlefield.

This was only a minimal risk mission; a group of young inhumans had been wreaking havoc for the past few weeks, Friday had been tracking them and noticed they were meeting a large arms dealer in Amazula tonight. Fairly simple. The enhanced individuals would be handed over to Agent Johnson's task-force while any weaponry will be confiscated by the CIA under Tony Stark's surveillance. All the trio had to do was detain the inhumans. Easy.

"Sure," Bucky responded slowly and shrugged his shoulders, "about time I got off my ass, right?"

"You can wait here if you don't feel up to it." The Zehoberei woman replied while picking at her nailbeds, voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy. Admittedly, she enjoyed the presence of these two no nonsense men, but their friendship made them worry too much and she didn't have the patience for it.

Gamora released the hangar door and without waiting for the super soldiers to respond, she jumped. Steve rushed to the edge and rolled his eyes as she landed perfectly a hundred feet below them. Once the quinjet had actually landed, the three stealthily made it to the warehouse unnoticed.

"Eyes on the kids, all five are headed down the north corridor." Bucky stated plainly over the communication device hidden in his right ear, still unable to comprehend how a pair of goggles allowed him to see through steel walls. He stayed crouched down low in the overhead railings, his large figure hidden with ease from any surveillance equipment.

Only a few seconds could passed before his ears were assaulted by a string of curse words from the alien woman, even more surprised that Steve hadn't reprimanded her for the foul language.

"Gamora?" The Captain questioned, launching out of his position in pursuit of his endangered teammate. When he arrived though, the scene before him made his eyes hurt from rolling them so hard, a simple "Not you again." fumbling from his lips.

Bucky calmed at the annoyed tone, having scrambled out of his hiding space with surprisingly the same amount of stealth. His heart was erratic, thinking it was a code red, but his steps slowed to a jog as soon as he registered they weren't in any kind of peril.

Y/N grinned up at the man in his usual navy stealth suit, watching his irritated expression tauntingly, "You missed me really, Rogers."

She'd arrived after Gamora, finding the kids tied to a post by the green woman with illuminated ropes. The mercenary began undoing their bounds, but was soon interrupted by their capturer and eliminated the threat with great skill.

Y/N stabbed Gamora in her thigh, her copper dagger dripping with blood as she twirled it between her fingertips.

Bucky rounded the corner and entered the open warehouse, finding his friend jogging over to the scene several feet ahead. Steve began assessing Gamora's wound and was quickly shoved off by the warrior, who simply stood and wiped her leg down as if it was dust and not blood.

Bucky stood frozen. It felt all too surreal - the flicker of orange hair, the bright teal suit which was anything but stealthy, and the familiar scarred tissue surrounding her magnificent hazel eyes. She was anything but a ghost, though he felt a soul step through his being.

"Buck? A little help?" Steve pushed, watching his friend move towards the group of teens without taking his eyes off of the annoying mercenary. He'd met her on numerous missions throughout the past couple of years, mostly getting in the way of things and a handful of times even aiding them.

"Buck?" Y/N mocked in the Captains authoritative tone, "What kind of name is that? What's it short for? Buckbert?"

Bucky blinked, forgetting all about the young inhumans, "Buchanan, actually."

"James? What in the fuck are you doing here?!" Y/N recognised his voice instantly, the gravelly pitch unrivalled by anyone else on this planet. She stopped fiddling with the electrified rope and spun on her heel, finding the first Winter Soldier mere meters from where she stood.

The mercenary slid her blade back into its sheath on her hip, sprinting over to her former partner and before anyone knew what was happening, her body enveloped his. Y/N squeezed him so tightly he thought is eyes may just bug out, but with Steve and Gamora's astonished expressions watching him, he returned the embrace. It was familiar, and Bucky didn't know whether that should be a good thing or a bad one.

"I'm sorry, actually I'm not. Care to explain how you know the asshole who just put a hole in my leg?" The Zehoberei woman seethed, checking the detainees were still detained before marching over to the pair.

"Yeah, not that this reunion isn't..." Steve trailed off, motioning towards the two still embracing. Bucky eye rolled his friend, letting the mercenary drop from his body but keeping his arm around her, "whatever it is, but why is it a reunion in the first place? Please don't tell me you two used to-"

"Fuck?" Y/N scoffs at the insinuation, knowing she'd hit the nail on its head when Captain America turned the same colour as his shield, "In his dreams, maybe."

"Y/N used to work for Hydra every now and again." The super soldier intervened, watching her wounded eye twitch from the corner of his vision, "Even when she wasn't, she'd follow my missions and find work in the same countries."

"Until I stepped in one day when his handler was being especially dickish and got myself this as a memento." She signalled to her paled scar with a sad smile, "I'd lost you for a while there, but it's good to have you back, James."

Steve couldn't believe how casual their conversation was, but instead of finding the answers he so desperately wanted, he had a role to play, "Is she going to be an issue?" Is all he could ask.

Y/N frowned at his no nonsense attitude, he usually threw a couple sarcastic remarks for her to bat back before getting on track with his mission. She looked up at Bucky with the same expression, arms crossed and eyes rolling as she begrudgingly shook her head. If it wasn't for her old acquaintance, the mercenary would've figured out a small way to annoy America's golden boy.

"Not this time, at least." The metal armed man reassured his childhood friend, who was getting the group of inhumans ready for the inhibitor pod on the quinjet. Gamora was busy glaring Y/N down, throwing her own blade up into the air a few times before charging at the human woman with no fear.

"What the-" Y/N screamed as the alien's dagger became the only thing her eyes could see, and without any other option, she climbed Bucky like a tree. Her torso hugging his face and her legs wrapped around his neck, "I'm sorry, pretty green lady!"

The super soldier, slightly unsure of what was happening, unarmed his teammate and shook Y/N off his shoulders. She fell to the grass with a small thud, quickly getting to her feet and backing away from the seething warrior.

"Let me stab her, it's only fair!" Gamora demanded, struggling in Bucky's vibranium grip. At this point, Steve had already transported the enhanced teens onto the quinjet and had come back to inspect and take inventory of the weaponry, only to find this scene playing out in front of him.

"I said I'm sorry!" She definitely wasn't, and although she didn't know the green woman, she knew it wouldn't end well if her apathy shone through. While Bucky held her back, Y/N knew this was her chance to dip out. After all, she was only here as a favour for a friend, it certainly wasn't worth getting injured over. But, against all better judgement and knowledge of stabby people, the mercenary decided to stay for a while longer.

"See, she's apologised, she didn't mean it." Bucky reasoned, pleading eyebrows raised at Gamora. His body didn't know whether to go into shock or revert to the way it used to react around Y/N, and got stuck between the two. He remembered so much of her; her squeaky laugh and scrunched nose at her own sardonic jokes, the dark chestnut hair lying under her luminous wig, her soft lips kissing his at the end of a mission. It came rushing back like blood to a sleepy limb.

"Alright, alright." Steve interjected, not wanting to escalate the situation, "Let's not forget why we're here." He eyed the merc specifically.

"Pffft," She batted her hand towards him passively, no longer in imminent danger as the green woman stood with her arms crossed, "you can have this one, Golden Boy. Something else has taken my interest."

Y/N made a mental note to buy Wade something to apologise for not getting the guns and ammunition he wanted. He wouldn't really care, probably moved onto some other enemy already. Steve began closing the crates of various weaponry, not caring for the young merc until he heard her voice ring, "Mind if I hitch a ride with you guys, if you're heading back to New York."

"Sure." Bucky insisted.

"We aren't-." Steve objected, glaring over at his best friend before amending his words, "Fine. Just don't mess with anything."

Gamora found the woman intriguing, so laid back yet clearly on a dark path. If they'd met under different circumstances, she would've welcomed another strong and calculating female into her life suffocated by testosterone. But the Zehoberei warrior's leg still seeped with blood, aching with each step, so she wasn't ready to give in so quickly.

They all made the walk back onto the quinjet fairly quickly, passing by the white pod which inhibited each of their powers without causing them any harm. Y/N had never been on such a technical aircraft before, amazed by all the lights and buttons. But Steve swatted her hand away before she could find out what they did, "Sit down and stay out of trouble."

"So, you been doing okay, James? Back in the real world, I mean." Y/N slumped down on the seat next to Bucky's frame. She unhooked her tactical belt and slid off the bright ginger wig, slinging it on the metal cabinet beside her.

Bucky eyed her up, finding her raised scarred brow oddly endearing, "Not at first, a lots changed since the forties." He nudged her shoulder as a sad look appeared on her face, "I'm alive though, been going to therapy. This is my first field mission, actually."

"Looks like my bad timing's paid off this time, then." Y/N looked up at him sincerely, finding familiar icy eyes staring into her own. He had changed so much, and not at all in the same breath. She'd never seen a smile on his lips before, usually covered by a mask during missions, yet it suited him so beautifully. He'd brushed his shoulder length hair behind his ear, watching his jaw clench and relax.

They chatted back and fourth about the past few years, no boundaries or judgements held in the space between them. Y/N actually did research about a customers background before accepting their offer, targeting her homicidal rage towards sex traffickers whenever she got the chance. She still held no permanent home, currently residing in an abandoned apartment a dozen blocks away. The super soldier offered that she could stay with him if she ever wanted, used to her company and lax attitude.

"Thanks James, I'll keep that in mind." She hopped down from the hangar's opening, marvelling at the acres of land surrounding the Avengers facility. Steve and Gamora had left a while ago, briefing Agent Johnson on the inhumans. So it was just the two of them, a warm wind flowing through their hair. Y/N stepped behind him, tying his hair half up in a pony tail to stop it from getting in his eyes.

"Thanks, Y/N/N." He beamed down at her, "It's been good having you around again, hopefully it doesn't take a bunch of rebel inhumans for us to see each other again."

"It better not." She smirked, a fuzzy feeling sitting in her stomach as her nickname left his lips like a melody, "Now since this little mission was a success on your part, I feel it's only fair we honour our tradition. Especially since it's been your first in a long time."

Bucky didn't even want to waste time responding with words, his cool metal hand finding it's way to her neck pulling her closer. Their eyes both fluttered shut, Y/N pulled herself up onto her tiptoes just as he leant down enough to bridge the gap. Her body shuddered all over as she felt him return the kiss and his free hand grip her waist ever so tightly.

Bucky broke away first, noticing the lust blown look in his little mercenary’s eyes as she blinked innocently up at him. After a beat, she hid her head in his chest, only for him to kiss the top of her head. “Don’t be a stranger, Y/N/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Y/N giggled, pulling away just enough to look up at the tall super soldier, “I can honestly say it would be my pleasure to fuck with Tony Stark and his band of merry men.”

“Invite me on your next job so we can do that again.”

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[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 3

Maul was at Orsis for six months when the inevitable finally occurred. 

 He felt it. 

 The dark shadow that haunted his nightmares, the cold hands left so many scars on his skin. It was his childhood ruined, his future stolen. His brother dead in his arms and every pain he’d ever endured. 

 Sidious had come to Orsis. 

Maul ended up with his back on the ground, looking up at Daleen of all people. He wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised that she’d actually flipped him. 

 He could only barely focus on her and Kilindi offering him a hand up. He could sense his master growing closer. 

 It was the feeling of old wound preparing to open, a sickness creeping back into his lungs. The clarity that he’d felt when he returned dimmed with it, leaving shadows at the corners of his eyes. 

 Maul swallowed thickly and stood again, taking his position in the ring opposite of Daleen. 

 She looked uncertain, but when he nodded at her she threw a punch and ducked the kick he aimed at her head in return. 

 Maul didn’t go easy on her. He was not a kind person, and he would not do her the disservice of mercy. If it came to a real fight no one else would hold out on her. So he wouldn’t either, for her own survival if nothing else. 

 That said, he did not break her arm when he caught her third punch, only twisted it enough for her wince before he let her go. He was not a fan of self control, and he had always chafed at the shackles of patience and secrecy that sith were forced to be subservient to, but the years had made him good at it. 

 He knew how to hide. He’d survived for eighteen (nineteen? Twenty?) years after the Empire rose and he was forced to go underground. He had gotten good at hiding and slipping away, and killing anyone who got too close to him. 

 ‘The Shadow’ indeed. 

 He could not hide from Sidious here. Here he had to bow his head and scrape and suffer when the man finally deigned him worthy of his tutelage. 

 It’s a near thing to keep his lip from curling and his sharp teeth baring at Daleen, who’s done nothing to earn his wrath besides tease him goodnaturedly. 

 He bows out of the training as soon as Trezza appears on a balcony, with Sidious at his side. 

 Master. Maul forced himself to think. In case his thoughts are too loud. In case they’re too quiet and Sidious goes listening closer. My master is here. 

 He tasted bile and swallowed it down as he came to a stop in front of the pair. He could remember easily how deeply he was expected to bow when Sidious came for him, and at what angle. It would not save him a beating, and he was hurt for his successes as much as his failure’s, but he would not go knocking for punishment. 

 The Force hummed around him, shadows flickering further in his vision. Sidious always loomed so high above him.

 Full grown Maul would be taller than him. That didn’t change the fact that Sidious’ shadow always  fell on him. 

 He kept his hand from clenching and his face carefully blank.

 “Master,” he said respectfully, and offered no other pleasantries. He was not raised to offer small talk. ‘How was your flight?’ ‘Did you enjoy the view?’ ‘I hope you’re well.’. 

 “My boy,” his master’s voice lacked the sickly sweet sound it took on when he was a senator. Here he was merely a wealthy merchant, who was putting a hefty investment in his future body guard. “I trust your studies have been going well.” 

 Maul’s gaze darted momentarily to Trezza. He had punishment them for their truancy, and praised them for taking first in class, one each. He in combat, Kilindi in survival, and Daleen in espionage. Had he told Sidious of their wandering? Even if he hadn’t, the man probably already knew. 

 Anxiety spiked, and he twirled the incident and the compitition around in his mind, letting it fall into a mist over the darkest secrets. Those stayed in a little ball, sucked into a iron sphere at the center of his being. So deep in the shadows they’d never be found. So far from the surface Maul started to forget them. 

 He held them there while he nodded, slowly. “They have, master.” 

 “Good, good. Come along. I have need of you this weekend.” 

 Sidious motioned for him to come forward. Maul obeyed without hesitation. He could not see his Master’s eyes, not through the high tech goggles he wore as a blind mind. Sidious said he could see shapes and colors and little else. He moved his long stick back and forth before him, letting it clack along obstacles in their path and avoiding him. 

 Sidious always had been an excellent actor. Maul, still a child, had much yet to learn from him. 

 The pair of them walked the long halls of the facility in silence until they came out on a landing pad where Sidious’ small ship was sitting. The two boarded. 

 Maul cast a glance around him and was startled to see the remnants of the spider legged droid that had raised him sitting in the corner. It wasn’t moving. It was still destroyed, just as it had been when he’d last seen it. 

 Maul knew better than to ask, and Sidious offered him no information. 

 They took off. A droid piloted the ship, one Maul recognized as well. It had served Sidious as long as Maul had known him. Sidious told him once, ten years in the future, that the droid had belonged to his own master before him. Maul had never seen the sith master in person. For much of his life he hadn’t even known he existed. The rule of two was supposed to be absolute. 

 The existence of Plageius should have cemented inside Maul that Sidious didn’t really see him as an apprentice, but a placeholder. He had a new one as soon as Maul fell into that foul shaft, and as soon as he could he replaced that one, too, with a more powerful apprentice.

 Maul had tried to warn Dooku. Had tried to recruit him and- 

 His mind swirled, tamping the thoughts under a rug and replacing them with musings far safer. His practice in the yard this morning.  A misstep he’d made that had cost him a clean fight. Mistakes he’d made in a slicing test earlier that week that he needed to amend. 

 “Would you like to know where we are going?” Sidious asked. He took his vision goggles off and set them on a shelf nearby. The cane went with them. His elaborate senate robes were handing beside it. Two disguises, and a dark lord stood before Maul. 

 Maul chewed on his words before he voiced them. 

 “I will go where you require, master.” 

 “Is that all?” Sidious looked at him, his brows raised. One day they would be silver, and his rust colored hair would grey. 

 Any answer would have been wrong, so Maul had answered wrong. 

 ��It would be good to know, so I might prepare. But regardless I will succeed at any tast you would have of me.” 

 “You assume it is a task for you?” 

 Maul flinched when Sidious raised his hand, but didn’t dare try to block that harsh lightning when it struck. Only the smallest hiss of a cry came from his mouth when he dropped to the ground convulsing. 

 The pain lanced through his body and whited out his mind momentarily. 

 Maul looked up at him from the floor, trying to catch his breath. Anger and pain coursed through him in time with the frantic beating in his chest. 

 “I ap-pologize,” he bit out. Blood filled his mouth. He’d bit his lip at some point. 

 I should know to keep from biting my own tongue by now. 

 Sidious didn’t bother to respond to that. He motioned for Maul to rise, which he did with a small struggle. His hands were shaking minutely. 

 “We go now to Kalakar Six. There is a group of darksiders there. The Prophets of the Darkside. Kill no one unless ordered. While I discuss important matters with their High Priestess you will train in the lands outside their settlement. A pair of assassin droids will hunt you through the terrain.” 

 Maul bowed shakily. He grit his sharp teeth together. Was he just a dog on a leash to his master? 

 A foolish question. Of course he was. An attack dog to be set upon his enemies, with his sharp teeth. 

 Had he ever been anything more to the man? 

 “Yes, master,” Maul said simply. 

 Sidious went to the pilots chair, and left Maul to try to remember where he would be expected to sit. Had it really been so long since he’d seen his master? 

 Of it had, it had been- 

 He sat on the bunk in the back of the small compartment. 

 This wasn’t one of Sidious’ luxury ships, nor was it meant for battle, although Maul could still see where weapons had been added and shields upgraded. It wasn’t a bad ship. It would take them safely from one place to the other, and should they need neither of the pair inside was helpless. 

 When they landed on Kalakar Six there was a small contingency of locals waiting for them. Humans, most of them, led by a dwarf. 

 Maul stayed behind his master, not hiding but certainly trying to avoid bringing attention to himself. He kept his dark hood pulled up over his head, but that didn’t stop the eyes of the other darksiders from landing upon him. 

 He stayed in his masters shadow until Sidious dismissed him to run off into the lava fields, with two assassin droids on his tail. They were programmed not to kill him, but to maim him. 

 He’d had enough time in his body that he wasn’t tripping over his own limbs. Shorter and weaker than he was used to, and legs that could break and not be pieced back together easily.   

 With a frown set firmly on his face Maul made his way into the smoldering heat, the dark side swirling around him like a familiar cloak he’d worn all his life. 

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

 Things stayed that way for well over a year. 

 Every few months Sidious would come for him, and take Maul off world for some horrible, grueling training. Maul would lock up his memories as hard as he could and hide it under more recent feelings and emotions the way he’d learned on Malachor. 

 He had to keep Sidious from learning what he knew. 

 It meant that every time the man was to visit Maul was a bundle of nerves that nothing could unwind, and when he returned he was bitter, full of spite, covered in injuries and more relieved than he could ever properly voice. 

 Somewhere in the second year since his return, his third year at the academy, he had stopped sleeping in the barracks. 

 It wasn’t a conscious decision, it wasn't even his decision. 

 He came back from a venture with his master. A return to Malachor had put him to the biggest test yet. He’d had to suffer, and relive the death of every sith that come before him. He had lived the battle through the eyes of all that had perished there, their ashes burning in his nose, mouth, and lungs. 

 Their anger filled him and twisted into a familiar hate that skittered through his skin before it sang in his veins. 

 Sidious had offered him a single word of praise, and beat him soundly. 

 By the time they landed again on Orsis everything hurt. He knew his ribs were broken, and he was bruised everywhere at once. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut. He’d been given no bacta. The pain would be good for him, Sidious claimed. 

 He walked stiffly from the ship to the doors of the academy, and was met in the hallway by Kilindi and Daleen. 

 Kilindi had taken one look at him and frowned. 

 “I killed my masters,” she said quietly. 

 Maul grimaced. “Don’t.” 

 She didn’t argue. “The boys, those Rodian friends of yours? They were planning on causing trouble tonight. Come stay with me.” 

 “I don’t need your protection,” he snapped. His temper was already frayed. He’d spent the entire time shoving down everything he was, wallowing in foreign anger and choking on pain. Now that the hiding was done he felt cracked and raw and other peoples feelings were twisting against him. Anger in the training hall, fear in the computer labs, lust from one of the higher dorms and some of the teachers were drinking. The girls worry brushed against him, soft fingers against open wounds.

 “I know you don’t need it,” Kilindi frowned at him. “But I don’t like to see you hurt, Maul. You’re my friend.” 

 “Our friend,” Daleen cut in. She came to Maul’s side and lay a very careful hand on his shoulder. His lip curled in a snarl. He wasn’t weak. He didn’t need her to treat him like he was glass. He was durasteel and fire and- 

 “It will make us feel better if you stay with us,” Daleen cut him from his thoughts. She squeezed his shoulder. “Humor a girl, won’t you?” 

 Through the rawness their warmth shone through. 

 Maul nearly choked. He’d never felt- 

 “Okay.” 

 His voice sounded hoarse. Like he’d been screaming. He probably had been. 

 The girls made their way to Kilindi’s room, in the far hallway. Maul let them lead him there. 

 The halls felt longer that night, and darker too. It was not in a way that comforted him, though he was a creature born of shadow and hate. 

 Kilindi’s calloused hands helped him pull off his tunic while Daleen fetched a bacta pack. Maul didn’t fight either of them. He let the pair smear the cold, sickly sweet smelling goo across his chest and back. Even though it was hard to see where he’d been injured through the intricate patterns on his skin, the girls found where it hurt without being told. 

 Kilindi had a good suite here. She was Trezza’s ward, of course. 

 Her bed was wide and fluffy, and a desk near it held her personal things. Holo’s, data pads, and even pieces of flimsy she liked to fold into complex animals and intriguing shapes. She had a talent for the arts. There was a couch against another wall too. 

 In one corner she had a big soaking tub under a faucet, instead of the common showers that the rest of them used. Her wardrobe was open, and her uniforms were crammed, crumpled, into the bottom of it instead of hung up neatly. A pair of night vision goggles dangled from one of the hooks in it. 

 There was a tank of fish in the other corner. It was barely big enough for the little silver things that swam inside of it, and it cast an odd glow through the room. 

 When the bacta was applied and covered he rose to go to the barracks, but was instead herded to the couch. 

 He humored the girls, as Daleen asked. 

 Maul lay on the couch while the girls lay on the bed, and the lights went out. Maul watched the fish swim through their dark light, silver flickering forward and back as the darkness closed in on him. The bacta warmed on his skin. The girls breathed easier. 

 He closed his eyes and let their steady presence sooth him enough to sleep. 

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 Sidious came again. 

 He had a castle on the planet. 

 Maul was summoned to it frequently, and he knew the long passages better than even Sidious did yet. In the years to come he would spend much time here. Weekends, and entire months on occasion, toiling away for scraps of approval or praise and taking any punishment as a lesson, even when he didn’t know what he was being taught besides how to shore up his anger and fear. 

 He was already rather good at that. 

 Maul didn’t need to follow the droid that had fetched him from the academy but he did all the same. It’s metal gleamed faintly in the light from high arches of glass. It had been cleaned recently. 

 Maul chewed on the fact that Sidious took more care with droids than he ever had with his apprentice, and treated them more cordially to boot. 

 Maul took the bitterness in his chest and wrapped it around the little piece of him he’d started to store Kilindi’s strength and Daleen’s cleverness inside of. 

 Not for the first time he thought of the jedi. Jinn and Kenobi, Skywalker and Tano. They’d had such faith in eachother. So much trust and care. They would fight and die and kill for one another, even when the other was weak or dying. Years after and he could still remember the look on Kenobi’s face when Jinn dropped to the ground. Blue that burned with rage and grief.  

 Maul was well aware that as soon as he lost his use Sidious would cast him off, if not kill him outright. He would not lift a finger to protect or avenge him. 

 Familiar rage welled up inside of his chest. 

 Jedi called themselves guardians and peace keepers. They preached about kindness, compassion, and protecting the weak, but where had they been when he was being tormented and forged into a tool with no will of his own? Where were they when he was carving his way through warm flesh, screaming for anyone to find him? 

 Nowhere. 

 On one hand he could count the number of people who had ever come for him. Savage. Talzin. Rook, Saxon, and through them Almec. 

 Even now, after he’d gone out of his way to send them a shadowy warning of the dangers to come, they were absent in the face of Sidious’ wrath. 

 No matter. 

 He didn’t need defending, certainly not from those as hypocritical and weak as the jedi. 

 Well. 

 Some were strong. Young Ezra was a fierce pupil, with a powerful connection to the Force. Lady Tano, while not longer (and not yet) a jedi had still bested him more than once with training from their temple. Skywalker could have bested him as a jedi. There were a handful of dueling masters that even now he itched to pit himself against. 

 And of course, Kenobi. 

 He never had managed to beat him. 

 Not on Naboo. Not during the Clone Wars. Not on Tatooine. A phantom burn hissed through Maul’s chest. Jedi spoke of the dangers of the Darkside, while conveniently glossing over how the light could burn. 

 The doors swished open in front of him and Maul tucked his thoughts away, behind the swirling darkness and a spiked wall of spite. 

 He came upon his master at a desk. His master, he repeated it in his mind over and over. The word. A curse and hiss and wound that had never healed. 

 Would it ever? 

 “You summoned me?” he asked, his voice low and rough. He’d taken a hit to the throat in training today, and broken the other students wrist for their trouble. They were starting to fear Maul enough that they didn’t want to hurt him for fear of retaliation. Other’s had learned that if they held back he would hurt them worse. 

 “You’ve been hiding something from me, Maul.” 

 Ice slithered down his spine. Maul stood straighter, his yellow eyes wide. 

 “I haven’t-” 

 A shock of lightning screamed through his nerves and drove him to his knees. 

 Maul didn’t make a sound. He went limp, slumped over his knees while his mind whited and his vision blurred. His hearts heat harder and harder until they felt like they were going to burst from his chest. 

 It stopped as soon as it started. 

 He sucked in frantic breathes. 

 Sidious ripped into his mind. 

 Maul howled inwardly, though outwardly he didn’t make a sound. He kept breathing, faster and faster as Sidious clawed into his brain. Sharp, electric tendrils of force raked through his through. Through the darkness and the spite. Through the ashes and the fire. 

 “Did you think you could really hide anything from me?” Sidious laughed, cold and cruel. He rifled through Maul’s thoughts. He started to fracture in the face of. The shallow sea of darkness was clawed at. 

 Distantly, Maul realized that Sidious was searching. Tearing through the confines of his thoughts, his wants, his very being. A lesser being (a being less used to pain. A being less cracked. A being less ragged at the edges.) would have cried. No tears fell from his eyes, even as they stared blankly at the ceiling. 

 A lesser being (A being less expecting to be violated so totally and relentlessly by the man who raised him) would have clawed at his masters hand when it closed around his throat. 

 Maul knew better. 

 Sidious kept dragging through the shallow thoughts on the surface. Each pass screamed with pain and betrayal. Maul smelled ozone. He tasted blood. 

 Sidious dug deeper. Looking, searching, he was going to find- 

 Maul broke. 

 He choked and the shadows spat out the only thing that could protect him. 

 All at once the pain stopped. 

 At some point Maul had fallen on his back. The high ceiling looked down on him dispassionately.  

 “Ah, little apprentice,” Sidious smiled down at him, a sick, cold thing on his face. “You’ve gone and gotten attached to Trezza’s little slave.” 

��Kilindi. He had given Sidious Kilindi. How could he do that to her- 

 “Did you think I would allow it? Your only focus can be your training. All that matters is the Grand Plan, and your place in it. You live only to do my bidding. You breath only to kill my enemies. Do you understand?” 

 Maul croaked weakly at him. 

 “Of course you do. You’ve always done what I asked. You only think of pleasing me. Isn’t that right?” 

 The hand that touched his forehead was light. Maul knew better, but he still flinched away from it. Sidious slapped him hard. 

 “Answer me!”

“Ye-es,” he forced out. 

 “Good. You can have no distractions. When you return to the school, you will sever your ties to the slave. And kill her. And her little human pet.” 

 Sidious stepped away from him. Maul’s head rolled when the droid came up beside him. 

 “I was going to teach you new darkside techniques today, but I felt your disquieted thoughts. I am done with you. You have wasted my time, and that slave girl will pay with her life, and you with it as well.” 

 The droid dragged him to his feet with unfeeling metal hands. Sidious didn’t look back to watch it drag Maul from the room. 

 The droid took him all the way back to the small shuttle that had only just brought him from the academy. Or not. Dawn had already arrived. How long had Sidious riffled through his mind before he broke? 

 He gave him Kilindi. He betrayed her. Again. 

 The first time he had killed her in Trezza’s office, after killing the headmaster with his own knife. He’d been covered in blood and shadow. She was the last survivor of the Orsis massacre. 

 Maul looked  at Kilindi. She was Staring at him blankly, but she radiated fear like a child in the presence of an enormous monster. He'd never wanted her to fear him. It didn't matter now. He never paused to wonder how his life might have been different if he had not revealed his Force powers to Meltch Krakko. He never paused at all. His only purpose was to serve his master. 

 Kilindi didn't run. She did try to smile. She said, "I guess you're not interested in the surprise that Daleen and I had for you." 

 "Not anymore," Maul said. He made it quick. It was only mercy he could offer this girl.

 He never hesitated. He never looked back.  

 Maul stumbled into Kilindi’s room in the dark. Daleen nearly stabbed him in the throat for his troubles. Maul caught her knife and twisted her arm behind her back casually. He could fight children. He could fight full grown adults. He could not fight his master, and he could not let him learn his secrets. The ones that were bigger than girls. 

 “You need to leave,” he said quietly. His teeth were red with his own blood. 

 “Maul?” Kilindi was halfway to the blaster she kept under her desk. Her dark eyes were fixed on him. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like. 

 Less like the monster that had killed her before. For better or worse. 

 “You need. To. Leave.” 

 “Why?” Daleen carefully extracted herself from his grasp. His face must have been alarming for her to try to touch his cheek. He caught her wrist. 

 “My master. He,” Maul swallowed. “Has ordered your death.” 

 Kilindi paled into a mint green. “He can’t. Trezza-” 

 “Trezza couldn’t stop him if he tried,” Maul shook his head. “He’s not what he seems, my master. He’s more powerful than you could imagine. Trezza can’t stop him. I can’t stop him. You need to run.” 

 “What about you?” Kilindi demanded. She was always too smart. 

 “He will hunt me down no matter how far I go.” All of Maul’s plans were out the window now. “But you he knows less. If you go now, quickly, you might escape with your lives.” 

 “We can’t leave you,” Daleen argued, her jaw set fiercely. 

 Maul turned on her, his eyes flashing. “You will leave. Now.” His voice bounced off the walls and around her skull. Daleen swayed. 

 “We will…” 

 “I am not letting you get yourself killed!” Kilindi argued, storming up to him. Maul didn’t not waver. 

 “I will not die,” he said firmly, the very first embers of an idea stirring into a spark. “I am too stubborn.” 

 He ignored Kilindi’s crushed expression. 

 “Go,” he said again. He side stepped the door. He knew that Kilindi had the codes for the hanger, and the ships inside. After she’d been stranded on her home planet, and hunted down by the guards for killing her master, she had become almost as paranoid as he was when it came to escape plans. 

 “Go.” 

 Kilindi took Daleen’s hand. She threw her arms around Maul. He soaked in her warmth for just a moment, a selfish luxury he allowed himself. He was about to face a horrible fate for her. He had least deserved a hug. 

 “We will find you again,” Kilindi swore. 

 Maul nodded to her. The pair disappeared down the hall, on the way to the hangers. 

 Maul made his way to the small craft landing platform and waited for dawn. 

 His master found him before it even broke. 

[kazuharem]

“Promises of Forever” ↠ Lucien x MC [SMUT]

AO3 Link: here 

Pairing: Lucien x Female MC

Part I of the “Forgive and Forget” Series. This is “Forgive”

Part II: here

Warnings: Contains plots from chapter 13 and 16 -> basically the plot of Lucien’s Rainy Night Date

Description: Lucien’s POV from “Rainy Night Date” + lovemaking

Word Count: 10,660 (oops)

Genre: Angst, Smut

Summary: “When the daylight comes, I'll have to go. But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close"

Author’s Note: I started playing this game back in March, missed out on this karma, and is very bitter/frustrated by that fact. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen so hard for a 2D man, but here I am. I wrote this fic because there weren’t enough discussion about this date, which I think showcases Lucien’s true feelings. Especially when he gives the paper crane back to the MC. My horny ass just decided to throw some lovemaking into this scene. Ending is inspired by the lyrics of Maroon 5′s “Daylight.” Every line that I took from the actual date/plot will have * in front of it. I hope you guys enjoy it. ALSO LUCIEN DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD. I SAID MY PIECE. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Here I am staring at your perfection In my arms, so beautiful The sky is getting bright, the stars are burning out Somebody slow it down This is way too hard 'Cause I know, when the sun comes up I will leave, this is my last glance That will soon be memory

And when the daylight comes I'll have to go But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close 'Cause in the daylight we'll be on our own But tonight I need to hold you so close Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa

I never wanted to stop Because I don't wanna start all over, start all over I was afraid of the dark But now it's all that I want, all that I want, all that I want

How did it come to this, Lucien asked himself as he pressed himself to the side of her building, watching as reporters rushed at her, like piranhas after the scent of blood.

*“Producer! What’s your answer on your program’s ex-consultant’s remarks at the press conference?” One shoved a mic into her face. Lucien winced, but held himself back from going to her rescue. His appearance would only make the situation worse.

*“We heard that you and Professor Lucien are not only co-workers, but also neighbors. Anything to share about him?” Another reporter jogged next to her.

“Yeah, aren’t you two neighbors? So you must be close!” The crowd clamored around her, and Lucien clenched his fists.

*“We heard that you two are inseparable. Could you please…” The reporter’s voice asked eagerly, and her eyes squeezed shut.

He watched as her lips pressed into thin, white lines. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get to work. Can you please stop asking me these questions?” She finally said softly, with an undercurrent of hurt, thinly veiled, but Lucien heard her all the same. The world seemed so dreary despite the colors, and Lucien knew it was because of her mood.

The poor security guards struggled, trying to clear a path for her so she can enter the building. Kiki and Anna appeared, extending a hand towards her, and pulled her to safety within the glass doors of her company. The world faded into shades of monochrome once more and it was then that Lucien exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

How did it come to this indeed?

It was supposed to be a simple task, a mission he could’ve accomplished with a flick of a hand. It was supposed to be easy. She was incredibly innocent and quick to trust; all he had to do was show her a little bit of kindness. And yet, Lucien found himself bewitched by her, getting his eye sliced open to prove to Black Swan that he was still on their side. That had been nothing more than a mere inconvenience for him. And yet, when the grunts had attempted to capture her, he failed to accomplish that simple of a task and instead, had let her escape. Lucien recalled the look in her eyes as she bravely held the pen-the very one he had endearingly given to her-to her neck and crimson blood leaked from her neck. That look had destroyed him. Only she was capable of such a thing. If she asked for Lucien’s heart, Lucien would’ve willingly torn it out and present it to her on a silver platter. Except for the fact, Lucien’s lips flitted into a wry smirk, he had no heart. His heart had belonged to her the moment she showed him the true brilliance of the world, the indescribable colors that had changed and wreaked havoc on everything he once knew. And Lucien had willingly allowed her to do so. Black Swan may have saved his life, but this woman, this woman who had entered his life in an explosion of colors, this woman had saved his soul. And in that sense, she had saved his life as well.

Falling in love with her wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. Those who knew him, knew him to be ruthless, emotionally detached, and ever-so-cold. But from the moment his world exploded into a vibrant myriad of colors, he was hooked. He had found himself wanting to see her every moment of the day, a message or call from her would allow a fond smile to spring up unbidden. Lucien remembered the poisonous jealousy he had felt when he attended one of her company dinners and her coworkers had asked her who was the most important person in her life. A little drunk and giving in to the green-eyed monster, he had confronted her only for her to tell him that it was him. The relief he had felt at that moment was ridiculous, like a tsunami of emotions flooding his entire system. He remembered gritting his teeth and clenching his fists at the sight of the officer who had shyly given her that ginkgo bracelet. He remembered the utter panic he felt when he found out she was in the hospital because of a stupid trick Black Swan had attempted to pull off and later, he remembered feeling the stifling frustration when the LFG CEO had barred anyone from seeing her. And Lucien remembered trying to focus on his research but hearing the idol singer’s bright voice float through the thin walls.

“Miss Chips! I brought the newest video game! Play with me!”

He had hoped she would refuse, but to his surprise, she had readily agreed. And he had tried so hard to ignore the sounds of happy entertainment before giving up and angrily leaving his apartment. That had been the moment he had realized that, that simple, oh-so-easy plan was not so easy after all.

How? How could it have happened this way?

When did he start feeling these irritating emotions that made his chest clench so painfully?

Was it when he took her to the New Light Library to help her with materials for the show and he had blurted out, *“Will you teach me how to love?”

Or was it when he had gifted her that gardenia and they had decided to take care of it together?

Or maybe it was when he had taken her to a firefly exhibition and she had defended the poor firefly struggling weakly to survive, saying that all life should be respected?

Was it when they went to the aquarium together and he had warned her, but she had refused?

Maybe it was when he had to go to Denmark, and she had followed him, getting sick in the process but had clung so desperately to him?

Was it because she had been the only one who had cared about him, about his birthday, and worried so excessively over his happiness?

Lucien had tried so hard to push her away, but every time she would come back, worrying when he got sick, calling when he didn’t respond to her messages. He had lived his entire life knowing only the cold shades of black and white. But with her, he was able to see the glorious pastels of a rainbow after a storm, the vibrant reds of the Canadian maple forest, the cerulean blue of the sea, the brilliant golden flashes of fireworks, and the warm orange flickering of the lotus lantern they had sent down the river together. She had been the one who had turned his birthday, which had been countless anniversaries that reminded him of the tragic events from his childhood, to something he actually wanted to look forward to every year.

He didn’t know the answers to these questions, but when Hades had tried to capture her for his foolish RESET plan on the day of his press conference, Lucien realized that for the first time in his life, he felt fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of her being in pain. Fear that someone saw the dazzling purity of hers and tried to use it for dark and polluted gains. For the first time in his life, Lucien had something to lose. Something so infinitely precious to him that it was more important than his own life. And yet, this woman had been hurt by his own hand.

Pain was not a foreign concept to Lucien. Being in Black Swan, it was readily available. He had utilized it upon his enemies, upon those who had cast doubt on him, and upon himself. But none of it could compare to the pain he had felt all those sleepless nights hearing the broken sobs of the woman he had hurt so deeply. For the first time, Lucien truly understood what a deadly weapon pain could be.

And now…

Lucien looked at the still clamoring crowd of reporters lurking around the entrance of her building and clenched his fists. Because of him, her life was upturned once more.

He had been keeping a close eye on her after he brought her from Hades’ dreamworld, fearing that Hades would discover the way out and go after her again. His hunches were right after discovering Hades’ minions lurking about her apartment community. He had disposed of them quietly, of course, but the reporters were a different story. Lucien knew she had been working late nights just to avoid the reporters.

Which was why Lucien was now sitting in his car, in the parking lot of her building, waiting for her to get off work.

Fool, a voice whispered inside his head, but he ignored it. He was currently the only one who could possibly protect her. As jealous as he had been with Gavin, Victor, and Kiro, he appreciated the fact that all three of them had protected her. But now, Gavin had gone somewhere, Victor’s whereabouts were unknown and couldn’t be reached, and he didn’t know what Helios was planning after abandoning his image as Kiro.

The dull gray lights suddenly morphed into a muted yellow and Lucien looked up. She had appeared at last.

He got out of the car silently and walked towards her. She checked her phone and let out an exhausted sigh, rotating her shoulders.

Show no emotion, Lucien reminded himself. He grabbed her arm and pushed her into his car before she even had a chance to react.

“AH!” She exclaimed in surprise, preparing herself to fight.

*“It’s me,” Lucien spoke softly to prevent her from struggling. She froze the moment she heard his voice and turned, wide-eyed, to look at him. Lucien forced himself to look straight ahead. “Fasten your seatbelt,” he commanded quietly, before starting the car.

She gritted her teeth, *“Why do I have to go with you? Where are you taking me?” She demanded.

Lucien clenched the steering wheel. Hearing her voice-albeit angry-reminded him that she was alive and breathing. And sitting next to him. *“To your place,” he answered her question passively, trying not to give light to the murky emotions that swirled within him.

She fell silent and he drove on. The way home never seemed so long, and the traffic lights were not helping, stopping them at every intersection. But Lucien was secretly glad; the longer he spent with her, the more content he felt. Even though she was still angry at him, Lucien cherished the time spent with her.

He could sense her eyes watching him, questions as clear as day on her face. When he couldn’t take the stare any longer, he met her gaze through the mirror. As if struck by a live wire, she immediately dropped her eyes. Lucien noticed how her fingers clenched white against the seatbelt and he gripped the steering wheel to prevent himself from doing something he shouldn’t (like grabbing her hand and smoothing out her tension). He hated himself for causing these reactions in her.

*“I came out to tell you not to go out for a while, unless you have to,” Lucien broke the silence quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. The reporters should stop bothering her after a few days.

Her eyes flitted to him in surprise, *“But I need to go to work! Don’t worry, I won’t tell the reporters anything,” she added hastily.

Silly girl, he mused silently, you misinterpret my intentions yet again.

*“Do you think I came all this way just because I was worried you might blab to the reporters?” Lucien asked aloud, pressing his lips together thinly.

She lowered her eyes, ashamed, and they fell in silence once more.

Nothing more than acquaintances, Lucien thought to himself bitterly. There used to never be awkward gaps of silence between them, but now silence permeated every possible space between them. She was only sitting next to him, but she felt oceans away. It was clear that she felt uncomfortable, with the way she was twisting her body away from him. And it was all his fault, Lucien supposed, getting stopped by a traffic light yet again. Her finding out who he was, however, was inevitable. And in that sense, Lucien thought that she should know earlier before she had completely given her heart to him. That way, she could still keep a bit of herself intact.

After stopping at the last traffic light before her apartment community, Lucien broke the silence once more, *“Anyway, don’t get caught up in any unnecessary danger,” he reminded her again.

*“You as well!” She piped up immediately and Lucien felt his heart clench.

Still worrying about me, my little fool. Worry about yourself first.

Instead, Lucien grated out a laugh, *“Who do you think can hurt me?

How ironic, Lucien sneered at himself, the only person who could ever hurt him was sitting right next to him.

They had finally reached the gate and Lucien rolled down his window so he could greet the security guard. *“Hello,” he said politely, smiling warmly.

The security guard’s eyes widened when he realized it was Lucien.  *“Professor Lucien, worked late today? It’s been a while since I saw you!”

*“Yes,” Lucien replied evenly, “I’m dropping her off at home.”

*“Haha, you are still so close!” The security guard teased, and Lucien saw her look away hurriedly, fingers clenching on her seatbelt again. Lucien nodded, still smiling as he drove away. His smile faded when they had reached the entrance of her apartment building.

They had arrived at last. It was time to say goodbye once again.

Lucien reminded her again without looking at her, *“Keep in mind everything I have told you tonight.”

She huffed at him, *“I know what I’m doing,” and opened the door in her haste.

Lucien reached over and she stiffened immediately. She tried to push him away, but Lucien held her wrists.

*“Let go of me!” She glared fiercely at him and Lucien’s chest tightened in response.

*“Are you that afraid of me?” Lucien whispered. She stopped struggling at those words and stilled. It was then that he realized belatedly that he had said his thoughts aloud. Lucien looked away, unfastened her seatbelt, and leaned away from her when he was done. *“You forgot to unfasten your seatbelt,” he informed her quietly, internally struggling to keep his emotions down.

*“…Thanks,” she said grudgingly and got out of the car. She took only two steps and turned around.

*Lucien rolled down the car window slowly, “What is it? Did you forget something?”

*He couldn’t read her expression as she shook her head. “You, not me,” she exhaled and continued. “All those things you left in my apartment; I’ve packed them up. Wait here, I’ll bring them down.”

*“Are they heavy?” Lucien managed to ask. This entire scene was funny as if they were going through a breakup, but Lucien didn’t laugh, couldn’t laugh.

*“No. I can manage by myself,” she replied curtly, placing heavy emphasis on “by myself.”

Lucien pressed his lips together and watched as she walked away, away from him, just like she did the day she found out who he really was. And then again on the day of the press conference. 

Did my little butterfly already fly away?

He had no time to linger on his thoughts, however, as he soon noticed two men in black seemingly appear from darkness and look up in the direction of her balcony. He cursed under his breath. Hades. They were probably there to observe her movements and report them to Hades. He shouldn’t be seen by them, otherwise Black Swan will know of his betrayal. And she must not come out at this moment. Scowling, Lucien pulled out his phone.

*<Rest early. Just mail it to this address.>

After sending the message, he started his car and took note of how there were two additional men in black tactical gear near the entrance of her apartment. Hmm STF, he thought to himself. Interesting. He drove off, circling behind another apartment complex as to not draw attention to himself. It was late, she should rest anyway, given how exhausted she had looked when Lucien had picked her up. And she seemed to be well protected for now. He knew Hades’ men wouldn’t try anything with STF agents around. For now, it was safer for her that he left. And he needed to figure out how to deal with Hades.

Two days later, a package arrived for him, but he had no time to open it due to all the work he had. He sent her a simple, “Thanks,” but he had gotten no response from her. Lucien had checked up on her occasionally; but after a few days, as he had guessed, the reporters stopped bothering her as the city slowly dissolved into mild panic over how the virus had developed. His worry about her safety decreased when he had noticed that she had STF agents following her, but that didn’t extinguish the longing inside of his heart.

The days slowly morphed into weeks and Lucien had been quite busy. Hades had not made things easy for him, but Lucien didn’t mind the workload. Every step he made in his progress was a step towards her happiness, her safety.

After working straight for twelve hours, he stood up and stretched. On his way to the kitchen, he accidentally kicked the box she had sent up. He looked at the box for a moment before making the decision to open it. He peeled the tape that bound the box shut and the box revealed its contents. With growing despair, Lucien glanced at the variety of books and movies that he had lent the girl. Each title brought a special memory. The last things in the box were paper cranes strung up in long lines, cushioning the books and DVDs. He touched the cranes tenderly, smiling as he recalled the day she had taught him how to fold these cranes. He had pretended to be bad at the task, causing her to huff at him.

*"Seriously, are you pretending not to know how?” The girl frowned at him as she watched his fingers fumble with the piece of paper.

*"No one has ever taught me this before,” Lucien admitted sheepishly.

She straightened her shoulders proudly, *"Well, better late than never! This teacher has full confidence in your talent!”

Lucien smiled at her confidence. *"In that case, I will await your instructions.”

Under her careful tutelage, they had made many paper cranes that afternoon. *Lucien fondly unfolded each of the cranes carefully, remembering that she had written a wish inside one of the paper cranes. She had whispered it while writing it down and he had overheard it, pretending he didn’t.

It was a wish about them.

*Does that wish mean nothing to her anymore?

Lucien sighed and refolded the cranes. Perhaps he should be thinking like her, letting the past dwell in the past, he mused sadly. But despite his thoughts, he found himself hanging the strings of cranes up.

*The light outside the window shone down upon the cranes and the raindrops outlined the gray and dusty memory. The pouring rain couldn’t wet these cranes, but somehow, one of them had faint blots on its wing. He reached out and gently held it in his hands. It was the crane in which she had written her wish. Lucien swallowed, trying to keep the choking emotions from surfacing.

*“I wish Lucien and I forever…”

The rest of her wish was blurred by tearstains. But Lucien knew the rest. It was the same as his. Every single time she made a wish-be it on the candles of his birthday cake, or the glowing lantern, or this simple crane-all her wishes had aligned with those of Lucien’s.

Lucien caressed the crane, *when he suddenly saw a dazzling figure in a cream-colored dress in the midst of the gray rain. His eyes widened. She had appeared like a mirage, the manifestation of his thoughts and longings.

*Lucien frowned, Silly…How did you end up here?

Without a second thought, he *grabbed an umbrella by the door and hurried out into the pouring rain. The clattering rain drowned his accelerating heartbeat.

*Lub-dub, lub-dub...

So engrossed was she in her task, that she didn’t see Lucien approaching her. He held the umbrella over her, and she looked up in surprise.

*“Why have you come looking for me?” Lucien tried hard to quash the happiness in his voice. She didn’t respond and continued to stare wide-eyed at him. Lucien spoke up again, *“Why didn’t you call ahead?”

*“I…” her eyes skipped from his, *“I just want to return something, then I’ll be on my way,” she mumbled.

“What is it?” Lucien asked as he reached out to her to pull her closer under the umbrella. She shrank back, but slipped. Before he could even form thoughts, Lucien’s body reacted. He hurriedly grabbed her before she could fall and wrapped his arms around her. A sigh left his mouth that was lost in the rain as he felt her familiar warmth and smelled her comforting scent. She was safe.

In her panic, she tried to push him away, but Lucien gently took her wrists. They walked silently with the rain beating down on them. Lucien could feel her gaze on him once again. She raised her hand only to drop it back to her side. Lucien cast a glance at her, *“What is it?”

*“You’re getting wet from the rain,” she murmured as a dusty-rose colored her cheeks.

Lucien chuckled, and couldn’t help teasing her, *“Someone else also got soaked.”

Her cheeks reddened further as she looked down at her feet. She seemed to be at an internal struggle with the way she kept gripping her purse. Her eyes kept scanning around, as if looking for an exit route.

Lucien pretended not to notice and led her gently to his front door. *“Didn’t you have something to return to me? You’re leaving already? Come in,” he invited.

Stay a little longer. Please, Lucien pleaded silently.

She hesitantly walked through the door and ruffled through her purse. *“I’ll just leave this here,” she said softly, producing a DVD and setting it gently on the counter.

Lucien glanced at the title and his heart clenched. It was a film he had recommended her, and she had promised to give him a film review.

*“Wait a moment,” he managed to say, stopping her before she could leave him again. Lucien picked the disc up and came closer to her, caging her between him and the door. He kept trying to find reasons to stay with her a bit longer, just like he had done so at the end of the press conference. But this time, Lucien decided to let himself be a bit selfish. *“You still owe me something, right?”

*“Wh-what?” She stammered nervously. He saw through her purpose. She had obviously wanted to deliver the disc and leave as fast as possible.

*“A movie review,” Lucien answered, holding the disc up.

*She lowered her head guiltily, but Lucien lifted her chin, searching her eyes.

*“Or does our big-time producer not even have time to watch a movie anymore?” he asked. She didn’t answer, but he saw through her anyway. Lucien’s lips curved into a tiny smile. “This is a good piece of work,” he coaxed gently.

*“But I don’t want to take it back anymore…” she mumbled, biting her lips. Lucien saw her scan the living room and her eyes landed on the paper cranes. A wave of sadness swept across her face and she closed her eyes.

*“You can finish watching it here,” Lucien offered.

*“ …I’m running late for the last subway,” she refuted weakly.

Lucien almost laughed, “I’ll bring you home when it’s over.” He knew she wanted to end everything between them, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Lucien decided to be the bad guy once again to save her the trouble. *“Or, do you want to keep owing me this movie review?” It was easier for him to do the dirty work.

With no room left to argue, she nodded resignedly and Lucien’s heart soared triumphantly.

He handed her a towel for her to dry off and went to set up the movie. She sat down stiffly on the couch and Lucien sat by the window.

What are you doing? Lucien chided himself as he watched raindrops glide down the window. He could feel her eyes on him again. Breaking his gaze away from the window, he turned to look at her. *“It’s starting,” he reminded her gently when the opening credits ended. She hastily turned her attention toward the screen.

Lucien watched her. He had chosen this specific piece because it served as another warning: he was not who he said he was. Throughout all their time spent together, Lucien had given her countless warnings only for her to dismiss them and run back into Lucien’s arms. And if Lucien was being honest, he didn’t want to let her go either. The longer he spent with her, the further the line between Lucien and Ares blurred, until Lucien didn’t really know who he was either. But now, he had one purpose. To keep her safe. It didn’t matter if he was Lucien or Ares. Around her, he was simply a man wanting to protect the person most important to him.

After a while, she turned to look at him again and their eyes met. Flashes of sadness, surprise, and longing ran across her eyes. Silence filled the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or stifling like it had been last time.

Lucien paused the film. *“Is the movie not good?” He asked softly after a while, not wanting to break the pregnant pause.

She shook her head silently. Before she could answer, however, she sneezed suddenly.

*Lucien sighed and got up, bringing her tissues. He shrugged out of his coat to cover her small shoulders. “How do you still take such poor care of yourself…?” The words left his mouth, exasperated. Embarrassed, she shuffled in her seat. Lucien brought her a cup of hot tea and she inhaled the fragrance. Her lips touched the back of his hand as he tried to cover the mouth of the mug. Electricity ran from where her lips had touched his hand and left tingles up his entire arm. “Always in such a rush…” he said fondly. “It’s still hot, wait a bit before drinking it.” He was unable to keep the affection out of his voice.

She stiffened and Lucien knew she heard the tenderness of his words. He berated himself. “Why are you being gentle to me again?” She whispered brokenly, squeezing her eyes shut.

There was no going back now.

*“A very interesting question,” Lucien finally responded, “But, before answering you, I also want to clear something up.” He moved slowly until he was sitting next to her on the couch. Ignoring how she curled into herself as he approached, he asked the question he wanted to know from the very beginning. “Each time I push you away, why do you keep coming back to me?” Lucien felt the tiny flutter of hope within his chest.

Could it be?

She didn’t answer, but Lucien dared himself to hope. And for the first time, he felt he wanted to bare his soul to her.

*He leaned in closer to her when suddenly the paper cranes broke from the ceiling and landed around them. Slowly, he found the crane that contained her precious wish and pushed it into her hands. “That’s my answer,” he said finally. He let her see him for who he truly was for the first time. He continued, “But the process of achieving this takes time and patience.”

And there it was. His heart and soul and all the feelings it contained for the woman in his arms were all laid out in front of her.

There was a small gasp before she dissolved into tears.

*“Liar… You said you didn’t see it,” she accused him tearfully, hand holding onto the crane.

Lucien pulled her gently into his lap as he enveloped her in his arms, his heart finally feeling full after a long while. She clung to him just as tightly, her arms encircling his neck. “Silly… *Do I need to peek to know what you’re thinking?” He whispered against her hair.

*He pressed his lips against her neck, a silent promise of his answer to her question. He wanted to be selfish for once.

She tugged at his tie, lifting his head and she leaned in. “Kiss me properly, Lucien,” her soft breath brushed against his lips.

Lucien acquiesced. Their lips met, soft like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. He tasted the salt of her tears, but the sweet nectar of her lips overpowered everything. Lucien was hopelessly and irrevocably addicted.

They broke apart slowly, breaths still mingling. *Lucien held up his hands, just like he had when he accompanied her on her quest to find the truth. *“This represents two choices,” he began softly, gazing into her eyes.  “The right is to finish what you came here to do. To return the disc and leave, ending everything between us. The left is to pursue the path you want. To act upon these emotions between the two of us, but the path ahead is unknown. It could be dangerous. Even I don’t know what lies ahead.” He offered her a choice; whatever she decides, Lucien would be willing to go along with it.

*Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his left hand just like she had back then. She looked defiantly at him, eyes shining with confidence. “I choose this. I will not run away.”

*“And if this choice brings you harm and turns your life upside down? You’d still choose it?” Lucien repeated the words he had spoken to her long ago.

*“Yes, I most certainly do,” she answered, leaving no room for argument. A warmth in Lucien’s heart blossomed and swelled. This woman! She came into his life in a whirlwind of color and always acted differently from Lucien’s every expectations. Lucien had never met anyone like her, and he knew that he never will. She was the only one.

*Lucien laughed and closed his left hand, clasping their hands together tightly. “I understand your choice.”

For tonight, Lucien decided to let himself pretend that the woman in his arms belonged to him and only him. That there wasn’t anything or anyone against them. That she wasn’t in any danger. That there was no Black Swan, no plot to overturn the world, no viruses, no pain, and no fear. That they were the only ones in this world and the only thing that mattered. That they were simply a man and a woman in love. And Lucien decided it was time to put his thinking and all his worries on hold. It was time to finally give in to the emotions that had been slowly consuming him. For once, it was time to let his heart lead instead of his head.

He leaned in to taste her sweet lips again, licking at the seam. He was granted access as her fingers danced along his collar to pull him closer to her. “Lucien…” the sound of his name on her lips spurred him on, igniting a fire that blazed in his stomach. He traced the inside of her lip with his tongue and was rewarded with a soft moan.

Her fingers worked nimbly on his tie and deftly unbuttoned his shirt as he mapped the crevasses of her mouth with his tongue. She moved to straddle him and he ran his hands down her body until he reached her thighs, where he gripped them to wrap them around his waist. Cupping his chin, she pressed herself to him, lips moving desperately against his.

Just for tonight, Lucien promised himself as he reached up to her face, brushing her hair back softly, just for one night.

He ran his fingers through her hair as he assaulted her mouth, biting, sucking everywhere he could reach. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped her hands inside. Lucien shuddered at her touch, her fingers tracing fire and leaving sparks across his chest. He pulled away to stare at her. “I think I’m at a disadvantage here,” he pretended to frown.

Her laughter was infectious as it rang through the air. “Then you should catch up,” she quipped, bright eyes sparkling with mirth, cheeks ablaze with pink. She looked so beautiful that Lucien had to literally bite down the urge to take, to claim.

“So I shall,” Lucien breathed, fingers playing with the hem of her blouse. Still staring at each other, she slowly raised her arms and Lucien tantalizingly dragged the fabric over her head.

Lucien’s breath caught. She was dressed in a white lace bra that cupped her breasts enchantingly. A pink flush crept up her body and Lucien’s gaze changed. She shyly averted her gaze when she noticed how dark Lucien’s pupils had become. Lucien reached for her, crashing his lips against hers. “Mm!” She gasped against his unrelenting mouth. Lucien picked her up and stood up, causing her to squeak out a surprised, “Lucien!”

“As much as I’d like to have you right here, I think I’d prefer to have you on my bed,” Lucien’s voice was low, hungry. “Also people might see and the idea of sharing you is not particularly appealing to me.” He walked purposefully towards his bedroom; her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Despite his heated words, he took care to set her down gently on the bed, removing her skirt when he did so. He knelt on the bed to kiss her again, hands making quick work of her bra, and leaned back on his feet to look at her.

She swallowed hard when she met Lucien's heated gaze as he cupped her breasts. A small moan bubbled from her throat. Lucien watched, enraptured, as she closed her eyes and arched into his hands. His thumbs flicked over her nipples and he squeezed them gently, causing her to gasp softly. Beautiful. He was utterly captivated by this amazing woman in front of him. He bent down to suckle at her collarbone as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, nipping her skin when he felt her nipples harden. He ran a hand down her stomach and teased a finger along the band of her panties, smiling against her neck when he heard a sharp intake of breath. Pressing a soft kiss against her neck, he let his lips travel upward and lightly nipped at her ear. 

“Mm,” she leaned into him, “Lucien…” she sighed his name, setting his heart and body aflame.

“Yes…” Lucien whispered as he leaned down to devour her lips, “Keep calling me, I want to hear you.” He kissed her deeply as he cupped one of her breasts, his other hand pressing her closer to him. He sucked at her collarbone and a scarlet rose blossomed beautifully.

“Lucien…” she moaned, arching as she pushed herself into Lucien’s warm hand. The sweet sound sent fire coursing through Lucien’s veins.

“Yes, beautiful girl…Just like that…” Lucien sighed as her hands pulled his neck down in an attempt to be closer to him. She leaned back on her elbows to look up at him and Lucien gazed at the sight from the foot of the bed, awed. Half-naked, hair mussed, lips swollen, she was truly a sight to behold.

They stared at each other, heated gazes meeting, acutely aware of what was going to happen, what they were about to do.

She bit on her lip as he shed his shirt and made his way back to her. They met in a fiery kiss with Lucien nipping at her lower lip. She moaned in his mouth and he swallowed her sound. Her sweet noises of pleasure were for him and him alone. He moved down to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the heated skin and felt her swallow. 

He nipped at her collarbone and kissed a path through the valley of her breasts. He kept his gaze on her as her breath hitched as he slowly moved his hands up her waist, making her moan breathily. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his breath sending a cool puff of air across the trail of saliva he had created and she shivered. She held her breath as Lucien descended on her breast, his violet eyes never leaving her face. Lucien took her nipple into his mouth, making her moan sweetly. He swirled his tongue around the nub, making a satisfied hum when it instantly hardened at the stimulation. He brought his hand up to tend to her other breast. She moaned lowly, arching her back, her hands landing in Lucien’s hair. He bit down and felt her fingers tighten in his hair, earning her a hiss of pleasure from Lucien. “Beautiful,” he proclaimed, letting go of her breast. He trailed his tongue down to her stomach, to her belly button and pressed another soft kiss there. Lucien traveled further down, making her breath hitch in her throat.

She swallowed hard, her breath quickly becoming short and staggered. She had never felt like this before. The way Lucien looked at her and touched her, worshipped her. He made her feel beautiful, made her feel like a goddess. He never had been one to be shy with his affections. But this. Even though she could never guess what Lucien was thinking, she felt his love through his touches, his kisses.

Lucien traced the band of her panties with his tongue. He kissed the apex where her thighs met through the lace material of her panties and felt her shudder. Smiling, he closed his teeth on the band and very slowly, gently, he tugged. “Lift yourself for me,” he breathed, sending puffs of warm air across her skin, which raised goosebumps instantly. He hooked a finger around her panties and she obliged, raising her hips so that Lucien could take the material off. Tantalizingly slow, he dragged her panties down her hips, down her thighs, down her calves, and finally over her feet. Kneeling between her legs, Lucien gazed up at her. “Beautiful,” he voiced, wonder lacing his word. Her breathing quickened as she noticed how hungry Lucien's gaze was. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her knee, kissing a trail up to her thigh. He let his tongue trace over the skin of her inner thigh, his hand sliding up to do the same to her other leg. She trembled, needing his touch, she was so aroused. Tentatively, he kissed closer to her slick heat. Meeting her gaze, he slowly licked a stripe over the most sensitive part of her. He watched as she arched off the bed with a breathy moan, hands grasping at the bedsheets. 

“Lucien…”

“Delicious,” Lucien murmured, his mouth on her, sending a wave of pleasant vibrations. He committed all of her actions and reactions to memory. Lucien loved the way she reacted to the simplest of touches. He loved the way she moaned his name, perfect lips parting in breathless pants. He loved the way she trembled. He loved every little sound that came out of her mouth. Wanting more, he lapped gently at her heat.

“Lucien-“ his name on her lips was a shaky moan.

Smiling, he let his tongue trace lazy circles around her sensitive nub, making her whimper with pleasure. He didn’t tear his eyes from her face as he sucked on her folds, tongue picking up her sweet juices. Her breathing was starting to become short pants and Lucien slid his tongue inside her. She keened at the sensation, fingers tightening around the bedsheets. Lucien started to pick up his speed, licking more roughly, sucking harder.

“Lucien…. oh…. ah…mmm….” she cried as her eyes closed at the sensations, head lolling back. Every sound she made sent fiery waves through Lucien’s veins. He increased his speed, tongue going further, harder. She was close, Lucien could feel it in the way her legs tightened, her toes curled, and the way she clutched at the sheets. “Lucien-please…” She pleaded, and Lucien doubled his efforts. Her moans were getting louder as his name left her lips in breathless pants. 

“It’s alright, beautiful girl. You can release,” Lucien coaxed, pressing his tongue on that sensitive little bud. “Let go.” 

With a choked moan, she came apart, back arching and her thighs tightened around his head, toes curled in pleasure. Lucien admired the way her stomach muscles contracted and her breasts bouncing slightly and quickly committed the sight to memory. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. She was breathtaking in her pleasure, pleasure that Lucien had given her, and Lucien didn’t think he had seen a more beautiful sight. Without any hesitation, he slid two fingers into her and put his mouth back on her, making her whimper. Allowing her absolutely no time to come down from her high, he began working his fingers and mouth. Fingers curling inside of her to find her sweet spot and he grinned in triumph as she mewled loudly, muscles involuntarily clenching around his fingers. “Please…” the cracked whimper sent fire straight through Lucien’s body and he growled softly, increasing his efforts to make her fall apart again. “Luci-Lucien…I Oh!” Indiscernible sounds made their way out of her parted lips. 

"Come for me once again, butterfly," Lucien whispered, fixated on her as she threw her head back, mouth open with silent cries. "Come for me," he coaxed, fingers moving more urgently as he worked his tongue. 

"Lucien-I... I'm...Oh... Lucien please!" 

"Yes, come for me..." Lucien urged, followed by a soft nip of her sensitive bud as he curled his fingers inside her. With a shuddering moan, his woman fell apart beautifully once again as Lucien watched in rapture. The undulations of her body as she trembled before him from the full force of her orgasm. So tantalizing. So beautiful. Lucien didn't think he had ever been this aroused before. He pressed his mouth against her heat, tasting her tangy nectar as she shuddered around him. Withdrawing his fingers from her, he leaned back onto his knees, and while gazing down at his beautiful girl, he slowly ran his tongue over his slick fingers. She swallowed hard as a bright pink flush painted her cheeks when he popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking hard to clean them. She gazed back at him, chest heaving as her breasts bounced lightly from her exertion, looking like the prettiest picture of perfection. Lucien felt a sense of pride in his beautiful masterpiece. 

"Lucien..." she struggled to catch her breath as she weakly sat up. He leaned down and pressed a heated kiss against her parted lips. She moaned into his mouth when she tasted herself on his tongue.

“I’m not done with you just yet, butterfly,” he whispered, catching her as she collapsed against him. 

“Then you better take your pants off,” she demanded.Laughing breathlessly, Lucien leaned back to unbuckle his belt. Slowly, he unzipped his pants, eyes never leaving her face. Her hands joined his as they removed his pants and underwear together. He kicked the garments off the bed and kneeled between her legs. Slowly, Lucien palmed himself, still maintaining eye contact. He was already hard from pleasuring her and so he stroked himself roughly. “Like what you see?” Lucien’s voice was hoarse.

She eyed him, “Very much so,” And with saying that, she licked her lips.

Lucien chuckled but it died in his throat when she tentatively reached for him. He groaned when she wrapped her hands around him. She stroked him gently and Lucien swallowed thickly, throwing his head back with a low moan. Her touch was electrifying, carrying tingling sensations all over his body. Lucien whispered her name, hips gently bucking into her warm hand when he couldn't help himself. Another moan made his head tilt back once more as she caressed his tip with a soft thumb, spreading the leaking moisture all over. Lucien closed his eyes and began to lose himself in the sensations of her warm hand. He felt her lips on his throat and he shuddered when she bit down on the skin, sucking hard to make a red mark.

“Mine,” she breathed, tongue lapping against the mark.

“Yours,” Lucien replied, gazing at her with such tenderness that she felt like crying. He leaned forward and pressed her into the sheets gently, his hands coming up to frame her face as he rested his weight on his elbows. “I belong to no one else but you.”

“Lucien…” she whispered his name, tears springing to her eyes, “I love you…” Her confession was hushed, but her words pierced Lucien’s heart as well as his soul, shattering the walls he wrought up to keep out the world.

Instead of replying, Lucien kissed her fervently, putting all his emotions into the kiss. Silly girl, he mused silently, why would you love a person like me?

But that was just the kind of person she was. Doing the unexpected, the unconventional. She abided by no rules except her own. It was the thing Lucien admired most about her. And he had promised himself this one night...

And for this one night, he allowed himself to love this woman, the way she deserved to be loved.

Kissing her deeply, Lucien ran his hand down the length of her body, caressing every inch of her until he reached her dripping arousal. Dripping with need for him. And only him. That thought filled Lucien with wholly satisfaction. That he is the only one to see her, touch her, hear her, taste her like this. He slipped his fingers within her wet folds as she moaned into his mouth.

“Lucien…” she choked out his name in a breathy whine.

“What is it, butterfly? Tell me, what is it that you want?” Lucien’s voice was rough. He increased his speed and sucked at her neck.

“You…I want…you,” she moaned breathlessly as her thighs clamped around his hand.

Well, if it’s what she wants… Lucien thought he ought to deliver.

He slowly extricated his fingers from her, making her whine shamelessly at the loss of sensation. “Just a minute, butterfly,” he said hoarsely as he reached for the drawer.

Her arm came up to stop him. “No…” she panted, “I want…I need to feel you.”

The outburst made Lucien pause, his eyes widened in surprise.

She tugged at his arms, “Please, Lucien…I need you,” she implored. The way she looked at that moment should be illegal, Lucien thought to himself. Her hair was messy, her eyes were blazing with want. And Lucien would be the bad guy if he didn’t give her what she wanted.

He propped himself back onto his elbow and stroked himself urgently with his other hand. As he aligned herself at her entrance, he searched her eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice was strained, but he had to make sure she was absolutely sure about this, that it was her decision.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “Absolutely,” she breathed against his lips before pushing her hips to meet his. In a swift movement, Lucien entered her. For a moment, it felt like he was home. She moaned, arching to meet him as their lips crashed.

Lucien pulled back and thrust into her, trying to find the spot that had made her unravel so beautifully. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. Lucien growled, a low sound in his chest, as he adjusted his hips and was rewarded with the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

“Lucien!” She whimpered, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts, arms clenched tight around his neck.

“Keep calling me,” Lucien panted, speed increasing as their passion built. “I need to hear you.”

“Lucien…Lucien…” His name was a chant on her lips like it was the only thing she knew how to say. She was so tight and so perfect around Lucien as if made for him and him alone. Doubling his effort, Lucien pressed his thumb against her sensitive bud. “Lucien!” Her nails dug into his back and Lucien relished in the sweet pain, thrusting harder. He knew she was close with the way her thighs clamped around his waist and the way her walls tightened around him.

“Come for me,” Lucien commanded breathlessly, thrusting relentlessly into her, his thumb circling her nub. “Come for me, beautiful girl, I want to see you undone.”

One more thrust, and she exploded as waves of pleasure washed over. She tightened around Lucien and a choked gasp fell from his lips. Breathless and quivering with pleasure, she sank into the mattress, still clinging tightly to Lucien.

Lucien knew that in that moment, if the world ended right then and there, he wouldn’t have cared. He paused slightly to press his forehead against hers before continuing to thrust into her, his movements getting more urgent. She shakily cupped his face as she slotted her lips against his, silently urging him to chase his own pleasure. Lucien didn’t need any more heeding as his hips jerked frantically. His brows knit in concentration and his lips parted with effort. Lucien grunted as he felt her tightening around him once again.

“Lucien…Lucien…” she blabbered against his lips, entirely incomprehensible.

Lucien swallowed her every pant, every moan as he reached between her legs once more. He wanted to see her in the throes of passion as he came. 

“I love you,” she panted, “I love you.”

It was those words that made Lucien utterly fall apart. He tensed as his hips stuttered to a stop, spilling heat within her. His body shuddered from pure bliss as he slumped into her arms, breathing harshly against her lips. Stars erupted behind his closed eyes, the most brilliant and vibrant flashes of gold danced in his vision. His actions coaxed another release for her as she climaxed around him. The feeling was indescribable, and Lucien thought that if he were to leave this world, he'd absolutely have no regrets.

Trembling, she fell back against the bed, pulling Lucien down with her. He took great care not to crush her and laid down on his side, his arms encircling her waist. Their pants mingling together until they weren't sure who was exhaling and who was inhaling. They gazed at each other, still breathless, still connected. He could hear both of their hearts beating in time, synchronized thudding to a beat that was unique to only them. Lucien had never felt more complete. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Lucien, I love you,” she breathed, staring deep into Lucien’s eyes.

He leaned in to kiss her, lips conveying the words of his heart, the words he was unable to speak out.

I love you too, my little butterfly.

Moments passed, the two of them were content to lay in each other’s arms. After a little while, Lucien gently extracted himself from her, prompting a soft whine. He pressed a finger against her lips, shushing her, “Let me clean you up. I’ll be right back,” he promised. 

True to his word, he came back with a towel which he used to wipe her down carefully. She opened her arms invitingly when he was done, and he obediently fell back into her arms. Shifting slightly, he maneuvered them so that she was laying on his chest and he pulled the blankets around them.

“Are you tired?” He asked gently as he stroked her hair.

She shook her head, “Can we talk?” she asked shyly, voice muffled by his chest.

Lucien smiled, “About what?”

She shuffled so she was looking into his eyes. “I…want to know…about Black Swan,” she said hesitantly. “About how and why you joined. And…about Ares…”

Lucien simply nodded, unsurprised. He knew this conversation would come up sooner or later. “Are you sure you want to have this conversation now? It’s not exactly a happy story.”

“I want to know,” she bit her lip gently.

“Alright,” Lucien agreed without hesitation, “Where would you like to start?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, obviously not expecting Lucien to agree so easily. “How about…how you came to join Black Swan?”

Lucien’s lips pursed in thought, “Well, there’s not much to it,” he finally said. “A car accident happened when I was seven. It took away my parents and left me in critical condition. People from Black Swan found me, saved my life, and I’ve been with them ever since.”

She digested this information, “And…Ares?” she hesitantly said the name.

“Ares is the name I use within the organization,” Lucien told her gently, “I’m sure that you’ve noticed by now, that we prefer Greek god names.”

“But…” she dragged out the word slowly, “You seem like two different people when you’re…Ares and when you’re Lucien.”

Lucien sighed, “Ares is me. Lucien is also me. Ares and Lucien are one and the same.” There was a bitter tone in his voice.

She was silent for a few moments. “Maybe that’s true,” she murmured, “But I know you would never hurt me. And that includes Ares.” The last part was full of confidence.

Silly girl, Lucien sighed internally, “I did…certain things when I was Ares…Because of that, I have a certain image within Black Swan,” he started haltingly. She nodded like she understood. “I approached you as Ares pretending to be your version of the ‘Lucien’ that you know. I needed to get close to you so I could accomplish my mission. But…I failed.”

“How?” She asked him quietly.

Lucien chuckled, “What do you think? It’s all because of you, silly girl. I’m supposed to bring you to Black Swan, and I’ve had all these opportunities to do so. And yet, here you are.”

“Did you…get hurt?”

“Can you please worry about yourself for once?” Lucien tweaked her nose and sighed.

She wrinkled her nose, “I don’t need to worry about myself because I have you protecting me,” she smiled. “You said I’m an asset to you.”

“Are you always this trusting?” Lucien asked, exasperated.

*“You told me you would ensure my safety. And that you don’t engage in worthless endeavors. I thought that was because I am the Queen. But now like you said, I haven’t been taken to Black Swan, so what is it that you’re protecting me from? Why would you protect me from Black Swan when you’re a member of Black Swan?” She raised her chin, challenging him.

She had seen right through him. Lucien’s lips curved into a small smile.

His fingers traced gentle circles on her waist. “I think you already know the answer to that,” he murmured. “You should know…I never intended to lie to you, but my intentions were never good to begin with,” the last part of his sentence was a little quieter, as if Lucien were talking to himself.

“What changed?” She asked curiously.

Lucien heaved a self-deprecating sigh, “You,” he said, simple and straightforward. She looked at him, confused. Lucien cradled her face gently and smiled, “You did. You changed everything. You turned all of my plans inside out and my world upside down.”

Her brow furrowed, “Me? What do you mean?”

“You brought color into my world,” Lucien said simply, leaving her to wonder what he meant by those words. Before she could respond, he continued, “*You taught me all the beautiful things, like folding a paper crane. You showed me how beautiful a rainbow after a storm could be. *I used to not fear death, but I started fearing it only after I met you. And because of you, I want to live.”

Her eyes turned watery, “Lucien…”

“What?” he sighed, brushing his thumbs on her cheeks, “Why are you crying, silly girl? It’s all true.”

She sniffled, “I’m not crying,” she said hastily.

“Alright,” Lucien chuckled, pulling her closer and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “You should sleep, it’s late.”

She pulled back to gaze into his eyes. “You’re going to hypnotize me, aren’t you?” Seeing his startled expression, she smiled wryly, “You were never this open with me before, something must be up.”

“Do you regret it? Your decision?” Lucien asked instead.

“Of course not,” she replied firmly, “I’m just glad that precious memories like these exist. And you can protect these precious and happy memories for us.”

“I know you made your choice,” Lucien started hesitantly but she shook her head at him.

“Lucien, I made my choice, but you must have your reasons. I’m choosing to believe that your reasons must have something to do with protecting me. And if it’s because of that, then I’ll allow you to do so. I respect your decision and your choices, just like you did with mine. And right now, I’m happy just to be able to be in your arms like this,” she gazed deeply into his violet eyes. “Being able to create these memories with you is enough for me. I shouldn’t be any more greedy and wish that I can cling onto these memories as well.”

Lucien’s breath caught in his throat. “Do you trust me?” His voice was low, full of unspoken emotion.

She nodded without hesitation. “I do. And I trust that you will come back to me.”

Lucien swallowed hard. “Then I will cherish and protect these beautiful memories,” he vowed hoarsely.

She beamed, and it was still the single-most bright and dazzling thing Lucien had ever seen. “Good.”

“Aren’t you afraid of me? And…the dark part of me?” Lucien finally voiced his worries.

“Lucien,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Just like you said, Ares is you. But it is only a part of you. Ares is not completely Lucien, nor is Lucien completely Ares. Everyone has a dark side, why should you be any different? I love and accept all of you, including Ares. I’m not afraid because of that. We may have different viewpoints and we might disagree with one another, but I’m not afraid of you. I was afraid, however, that all these memories we created together meant nothing to you. That they were all just part of the plan. I was afraid that your feelings weren't real. But now, I know how you truly feel about me and my fears couldn't be further from the truth. Your dark side is only a small part of you, but I love the whole you. As long as you’re Lucien or the part that is ‘Lucien’ exists, I will love you. And you already said earlier,” she touched the mark she had made earlier on his neck. “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” Lucien promised, voice thick with raw emotion. His heart swelled. He didn’t think he could love this woman any more than he already did, but she had proven him wrong. Again.

She smiled with satisfaction and leaned in, “I love you, Lucien,” she breathed across Lucien's lips, setting Lucien’s heart aflame.

He was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe. To return to her. So that the next time, they meet, they can love each other openly without fear. And that was a promise Lucien fully intended to keep.

“Wait for me,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I will,” she replied steadily.

There was a sigh of relief and Lucien tucked her under his chin, holding her close. “Sleep,” he commanded quietly, “It’s late.” He pressed his lips tenderly against her forehead, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her back.

It was amazing how comfortable Lucien felt with her body against his, lying in his arms. He had not been this relaxed in a long time. She made him feel whole, as if she completed the missing part of his heart. 

And maybe you are, Lucien thought to himself, smiling as he occasionally pressed kisses to her temple, the person at the end of my red string. My little butterfly.

When she had finally fallen asleep, Lucien looked at the slowly brightening sky. His heart tightened. He wanted to freeze this moment forever. The pink-tinged sky didn’t grant his request and instead brilliant hues of orange and red started spreading across the sky, as if taunting him. He didn’t have long before they had to part. Slowly, Lucien eased away from the sleeping girl. He put on the clothes strewn around his room and tenderly dressed her, taking great care not to wake her. He caressed the light purple mark on her collarbone and smiled sadly. It was time. He picked up the girl gently. A bright white light flashed around the room.

They reappeared inside the girl’s apartment. Lucien carried the sleeping figure to her room and tucked her in. He then took out his phone and sent a message to her phone.

<Thank you for returning my disc to me. We had a bit of wine while you watched the movie so you can give me that film review. You got drunk and I brought you home. *Next time do not come to see me without notice. Take care of yourself. -Lucien>

He leaned forward and brushed her bangs back softly to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

“I promise you,” he whispered, “I promise we’ll go fly a kite when spring comes. I promise to celebrate all my birthdays with you. I promise to ensure your safety. I promise I will always come back to you. I promise that we’ll be together. I promise that I belong to you, and to only you.” He repeated all the promises he made her. “Wait for me, butterfly.” He hooked their pinkies together and kissed their linked fingers softly. “I promise.”

He then placed a tender, final kiss against her lips and breathed out the words that had been hidden under his heart for so long. “I love you.”

Lucien stood up and walked to the door silently, before turning around to take one last look at her. She was sleeping soundly. The gentle sun of the early morning cast a soft pink over her, a beautiful but cruel reminder that told Lucien he was out of time. The night he had promised himself had come to an end and now it was morning. It was time for him to go.

He had set a glass of water, along with two painkillers on her bedside table. There was also a paper crane standing guard. It was the one with her wish.

*“I wish Lucien and I forever…”

Underneath her wish, Lucien had added a set of words. Another promise.

*“For every forever that you wished for, I’ll be there.”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

For more of my work: 📖

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (25)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: It’s just coffee with an old colleague... nothing to worry about...

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“Stop sulking,” she tells him, not even looking up from her computer screen.

“I’m not sulking.”

“James,” she chides, glancing up and seeing him leaning in the doorway of her office, arms tightly folded over his chest.

“I’m not sulking,” he repeats, unfolding his arms and striding in to take a seat on the old sofa in the corner.

“Fine.” She pushes away from her desk, flips her glasses up on top of her head, and leans back in her seat. “Then you’re brooding.” He shoots her an irritated glare. “Just say it. You’ll feel better if you do.”

“I’d feel better if you’d stay out of this.”

“What happened to thinking that me going on missions was hot?” she asks, rising and crossing the room to shut the door. She turns back to him and leans up against the closed door, wiggles her eyebrows playfully before saying, “With great power comes great sensuality.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. You can’t even use your powers out there.”

“I know,” she says quietly, moving to stand in front of him.

He looks up at her with tired, conflicted eyes. “If you do… if this guy finds out you’re a mutant…”

“I know,” she repeats, dropping her hands to his shoulders and giving him a small, playful shake. The corners of his mouth quirk up just a bit and he brings his hands to her hips. “Have I ever told you, you worry too much?” she teases, before lowering herself down to straddle his lap.

“No. Never,” he replies with a frown.

“I’m just having coffee with an old colleague,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting her fingers play in his hair. “There’s no need to worry.”

“Undercover operations are the hardest to monitor and the easiest to lose control of,” he tells her with authority as each of his thumbs begin to rub circles into her hips. Her knees squeeze his thighs a little tighter as she sidles further into him, and he finds himself fighting to maintain focus and not get lost in the warmth of her body or the scent of her honeysuckle shampoo. “This could be really dangerous. You can’t lose sight of that.”

“We’re meeting in a public place, an outdoor café,” she tries, her fingers moving to sweep some errant strands of hair back behind his ears.

“Which means anyone can see you. And I could lose sight of you in a second.”

“But you’re not the only who’ll be there.”

“I just don’t like it,” he says, the frown returning to his face as his gaze drops.

“Well, I don’t like that people are – or were – experimenting on mutants,” she says, suddenly stiffening next to him. “And honestly, this is something that I should be involved with. This is something that, like it or not, already involves me… and my family. You’re the one who pointed that out.”

“It’s not your job,” he says plainly.

She scoffs loudly. “I have a suit. That basically makes me a part-time Avenger. And besides… how would you feel if Steve kept you from anything Hydra related?”

His brow furrows deeply as he looks back up at her. “I don’t know. But it isn’t the same. Not really.”

“Babe,” she groans, leaning back a bit and staring down at him with a serious look. “I went to live at Xavier’s when I was 6 years old. I started training with the X-Men at 16. My first real mentor was a brilliant physician who was covered in bright blue fur.” She smiles when he raises a single, suspicious eyebrow. “I know it doesn’t seem like I… identify as a mutant. And maybe I don’t always. Because it’s hard. And scary. And… it can be easy to lose sight of who you really are when you spend so long in hiding.”

His face softens as he takes in her words. If there’s one thing that they truly have in common, it’s this. Both of them have been so many people over the years. Both of them have spent too much time hiding who they are from others… and from themselves. He reaches up and pets back her hair, running his thumb along her forehead. “You never talk about it,” he says softly. “You never talk about your time there, with them.”

She drops her gaze, her cheeks suddenly taking on a bright red blush. “Yeah. Well… it’s sort of complicated. But…” She looks back up and into his eyes. “I am a mutant. And that means more than just having the X-gene in my sequence. To me, that means more. I spent years immersed in the… culture. We have a different history from other humans. We’ve been abandoned, denied, demonized. You think this Hydra facility was the only place experimenting on us? I personally went on at least four missions to rescue mutants – people – who were held for testing or… training. I grew up learning about the secret missions of Nazis to root us out, activate us, tear us apart to see what makes us tick. I spent more nights than I can count listening to Logan’s stories about the Weapon X program, about the torture they put him through to turn him into the ultimate killing machine.”

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes at her. “Weapon X,” he repeats. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

She merely shrugs. “I heard rumors that SHIELD took it over in the 90s… maybe Hydra was involved with that too.” She lets out a long sigh and drops her forehead to his. “But see? That’s the thing. If we weren’t hated, we were ignored, forgotten. There are millions of us on this planet, but most people would say they’ve never met a mutant, maybe never even heard of them.” Pulling back a bit, she locks eyes with him. “No one ever cared enough to save us. No one ever cared enough to even see that we needed saving.”

“I care,” he tells her, cupping his hand over the back of her head.

She smiles a small, sad smile. “If I wasn’t here, if you and Steve and the other Avengers didn’t know me… I don’t know that any of you would care enough to look into this.”

“That’s not true,” he says, hurt breaking through his voice.

“History shows otherwise.” She places her hands on his shoulders and pushes back off of him. “Anyway, all of this is to say… I know what I’m getting into here. Probably better than the rest of you.”

He grabs her waist when she tries to shimmy off his lap, and he pulls her back down. “I just want you to be careful,” he tells her as he wraps his arms around her. She melts into him, resting her head on his chest. “You’re not trained for this… or if you were, well, you’re way out of practice.”

She lets out a small laugh before mumbling softly, “I’m not worried. I know who has my back.”

000

“I never did like this guy,” Clint utters through the coms as he watches Dr. Aaron Scofield dodge traffic on his way to the café down the block.

Tessa sits idly at a table on the patio, lined up perfectly to be in his view as well as Bucky’s from the other side of the quiet main street. “You never met him,” she says softly, masking the movement of her lips with a coffee cup.

“You really think I didn’t know everything about the scientists stationed in Minsk. I know why Genetech hired him.” He continues to peer through the Stark-manufactured sight device, snickering slightly when he sees the doctor stumble as he steps off a curb. “Klutz,” he snorts.

“Whatever.” Through the sight on his rifle, Bucky can actually make out Tessa’s dramatic eye roll. “I worked with him every day for almost a year,” she goes on. “And I can honestly tell you that he doesn’t have enough personality to be either liked or disliked.”

“Can you two relive the past some other time,” Natasha mutters. She sits just a few tables away, but Tessa can only hear her voice through the coms and even when looking directly at her, she can’t tell at all that the woman is speaking. Damn, she’s good. “He’s on your left,” she says simply.

“Dr. Sullivan?” the man asks as he approaches. He extends his hand and offers a meek smile, one almost hidden by his graying mustache. “It’s been a spell.”

She rises and accepts his handshake. “It has been, Dr. Scofield. Thank you for meeting me.” She drops back into her chair and waves her hand at the seat across from her… the seat where Bucky expressly told her to get him to sit so that he wouldn’t be blocked by any other patrons.

Instead, he chooses the seat right next to her, plopping down and folding in on himself, resting his elbows on his knees. “I was surprised to hear from you,” he says, his voice holding more enthusiasm than she’s ever heard from the man. “Though perhaps I shouldn’t be. I have heard stories about working for Stark Industries. I came up with a few gentlemen who worked for Howard Stark back in the day.” He leans back in his chair then, smug look taking over his face. “They left when the boy prodigy took over and started running the place into the ground.”

“Are we recording this?” Clint asks. “I want to play this back for Tony later.”

Tessa raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Well, I guess he’s grown up some since then. Business is booming.”

“Tess,” Steve’s voice filters to her through the earpiece. “You’re not happy with your job, remember?”

“Pure luck, I imagine,” Dr. Scofield replies to her. “But if things are going so well…”

“Right,” she corrects with an awkward laugh. “No… well… I mean, business is great. I can’t complain about that. I just… I’m not getting to do the research that I want.” She shifts to the edge of her seat and crosses her legs toward him, leans forward to close off some of the distance between them. “I was thinking…” She smiles lightly, slowly swinging her hanging foot back and forth in an almost hypnotizing way. “The work we did together on the M-gene… attempting to clone it and activate it within certain tissues to spark cellular regeneration and growth… that’s the sort of thing I want to work on. That’s the type of work that could actually make a difference for people.”

“I’ll bet Tony Stark has you doing things like developing technology for cell resiliency that inhibits hangovers,” he says with a smirk.

She chuckles lightly, laying her palm on his knee. “That would be something he could sell,” she says with a crooked smile.

“You might wanna cool it on the flirting, doll,” Bucky mutters. “He’s starting to look a little spooked.”

“Poor guy’s probably only talked to three women his entire life,” Clint mocks. “And one was his mom.”

“I think she’s got this, guys,” Natasha says blankly.

“Well,” Scofield says, blushing as he pushes his giant glasses back up his nose. “Perhaps I should suggest it to him then. I wouldn’t mind making a small fortune.”

Tessa leans back in her chair, still letting her hanging foot draw lazy patterns in the air just inches from his shin. “I was hoping you might know of something,” she says, drawing out the final word.

“Work on the M-gene? No, nothing much has been done with it since Genetech went under. They held so many patents – ”

“What about the X-gene?” she asks expectantly. “I feel like I’ve been out of that world for so long now, that I don’t even know what people are up to these days.”

He straightens up and gives her a suspicious look. “Research on the X-gene is highly regulated,” he says stiffly.

“Yes, Dr. Scofield, I am aware of that. The M-gene, as well. It’s why we had to be carted of to Minsk to study it.”

“Yes, but… X-factor research is… less theoretical. It makes people nervous.”

“Not me,” she intones, holding eye contact with the man as she runs her tongue lightly over her bottom lip.

“Laying it on a little thick, there Doc?” Clint chuckles into the coms.

“Look,” she says, leaning forward once again and changing her tone to a more conspiratorial one. “I’m going to level with you.” The man nods once. “I shouldn’t know this… but I came across some information. I’ve been doing some work with the Avengers recently – ”

“What the hell,” Bucky hisses from his perch on a rooftop blocks away. “What are you doing?!”

She cringes at the near-shout in her ear, but goes on. “They came across some information, from several years ago, that ties you to some… studies.”

“Tessa,” Steve warns.

“Let her go,” Clint says, his voice suddenly serious. “She might have him.”

“They can’t…” Scofield sputters. “There’s nothing…”

She waves her hands in a calm down gesture. “No, no… they’re not doing anything about it. The experiments are all decades old. I just thought… even if you weren’t doing anything in this… field anymore, that you might know someone who is.”

His eyes go wide for a long moment as he moves from panic to curiosity to an odd sort of calm. “If that is what I think it is, then those studies were long ago abandoned.”

“Oh,” she says disappointedly.

“But…” He smiles wide and leans forward. “If you actually are interested… really interested, then I do have a fellow I could introduce you to.”

A genuine smile spreads across her face as she nods excitedly. “I assure you, Dr. Scofield, I am very interested.”

[hobiwonder]

Workaholic | (m)

Genre: Smut, pwp. fluff if you squint.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Warnings: language. foreplay, descriptions of unprotected sex, dirty talk, object insertion, cum eating, creampie.

Words: 10k

Summary: Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 

You were only trying to escape a crazed man chasing you down on a stormy night. Never was your intention to end up in an attractive man’s house. Definitely not one who thought you were a hooker. 

a/n: i read a little novella like this a while ago but it was about vampires. I cannot remember the name but here is my twist on it kwhduebgjswbvhw. enjoy. Plz validate me with comments thank u. 

(he’s adorable omg)

“You really need to take a break Yoongi,”

“I’m fine,” he may be able to fool himself in to thinking he’s fine just because there isn’t any immediate struggle, his mental state was far from it. Still, didn’t stop Hoseok from barging in his office like he owned it – he only owned part of it – and demanding that Yoongi take a rest.

“no you’re not. You’re so damn bitchy all the time. Take a damn break. This isn’t a case of working hard to make it somewhere in life. You own the fucking company.”

“I’m a Partner. Not the actual owner.” Hoseok is waving his dismissal as he crosses his ankles on Yoongi’s desk.

“Same shit. You’ll be the sole partner in a few more years if you keep going at this speed. It’ll be MinKim Inc than just Kim.”

That was the goal, yes. Currently, Kim Seokjin, Yoongi’s close friend, was the heir to the corporation.

“You’re a partner here too you little shit.” There is no point in trying to kick his Italian loafer clad feet off because he just crosses them over the desk again.

“Yes but at least I’m not slaving over at my office to acquire more of it. All good things come in time.”

“Exactly. So leave me alone, I’ll have my rest when it’s time.” He had emails to respond to and his head had already started pounding. He was so damn tired all the time despite sleeping at least 7 hours. What use was there to sleep anymore if it didn’t provide the relief he needed?

“Bro you’re really fucking things up for yourself. You need to get laid.”

This makes Yoongi snort as he continues typing. Hoping Hoseok didn’t notice how his finger halted for a quarter of a second before he kept typing.

“I did. Or tried to, I guess.” Hoseok’s eyes have widened like saucers for some reason. Always so dramatic.

“Wait, by any chance… was it with Mina?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi’s eyebrows drop in to a furrow at his question like this was some sort of mystery he was about to solve. But Hoseok just sits back with a ‘thump’ before breaking in to fits of laughter like he couldn’t believe it.

“So it’s true. Damn. I really didn’t think she was telling the truth.” Now he had Yoongi’s full attention.

“Who?” Abandoning his email, he turns to Hoseok’s still shaking frame.

“Mina. That’s who. Do you have any idea what tales that tattle tale has been telling about you lately?”

“No. And I don’t care.” Women tended to exaggerate things.

“Oh but you should, brother. Apparently you can’t get it up. And now I know she wasn’t lying about everything.”

“What?! What the fuck? Has she been mouthing off about me like that?” There is an ever present annoying, self-satisfied smirk on Hoseok’s face. But Yoongi couldn’t care less. His manhood was at stake.

“Got your attention didn’t I? Yes sir. At the lounge yesterday she seemed rather devastated. Did you really not show her a good time?”

“Well,” Yoongi tried to salvage his brain for some plausible explanation. But it was true. Mina was one of the sexiest women in his circle and yet, last week he could not stay hard for the life of him. “In my defence, I got her off three fucking times with my damn mouth. Ungrateful.”

While Yoongi is shaking his head in disappointment, Hoseok seems to be rather occupied with something going on his little scheming head. “What? Why are you spacing out like that?”

“Just thinking. Has this been going on for a while?”

Snorting, Yoongi pushes off Hoseok’s feet for the hundredth time. “You’re not my therapist Hoseok. I’m sure I just need more,” Yoongi grits his teeth and swallows once, twice, just to get the words out, “rest. I’m not about to pop Viagra because one girl isn’t satisfied with not having my dick. Though I can understand her pouting.”

Yoongi was allowed to be cocky. His dick game was pretty good. You obviously need to have a reputation to actually save it.

“Hyung, you need both. You’ve been stuck in this office for months and you barely do anything exciting. When was the last time you went out just because you wanted to let off some steam?”

The bastard knew the answer and just wanted to humiliate Yoongi. So he stays silent, watching Hoseok as he straightens up.

“At least you got your feet off my damn table.” Yoongi mumbles to himself, hoping he’ll drop it. No such luck.

“You know the reason you can’t even enjoy the simple things in life anymore is because you don’t even go have a meal at a restaurant just to have an enjoyable evening anymore. Remember when we used to have lunch at the Shaw’s every week?”

Those were good times. It was fun, that’s what Yoongi remembers.

“You want Hyung to take you out on a date? Is that it?” Yoongi’s little jab at humour doesn’t faze Hoseok as he continues to stare down the elder. Which Yoongi would smack him for any other time but this time, he was right. Hoseok only said it all because he cared about him.

“Well, it has been a while since I ate something other than takeout in my office….” Leaning back in his chair, Yoongi can’t help but let out a groan as his muscles get a break from their punishing position that Yoongi kept them in to stay alert and focused.

“Great!” Hoseok has all but switched from the utmost serious face he had been showing Yoongi and back to his chirpy self. It almost gave Yoongi whiplash. Something didn’t smell right with how quickly he was satisfied.

“Hoseok, what are you planning? I can tell you’re up to something.” Yoongi stares up at his retrieving figure, almost a dance to his step.

“Don’t be so vigilant hyung. We’ll just have dinner on Friday night and some drinks at the bar, that’s all.” His smile is too big for Yoongi to continue staring at him to sus him out. So he lets him go.

“Whatever, I’ll see you then.”

“Bye boss! I’ll see you Friday. Get ready to party baby. Whoo!” His loud scream is obnoxious and nothing out of character and Yoongi won’t lie; He’s sort of excited about Friday.

Maybe listening to Hoseok wasn’t such a bad idea. Not when Yoongi just had the best steak he’s had in years.

“Damn. This was good.” Hoseok is still dabbing at his mouth with the napkin while he just nods his agreement.

“See? I told you that you’d have fun. Plus, I know the chef here so you my brother, got a $400 steak for free,” He drops the napkin in front dramatically as if he’s won some medal.

“Yeah yeah, thanks for getting your hyung steak. Now let’s get out of here.” Yoongi is already up and brushing down his suit but Hoseok seems to be in no rush.

“No. We’re going to the bar, remember?”

“Really?” Yoongi doesn’t want to sound like he’s complaining since a night out is the most fun thing he’s done in a while where he hasn’t pretended to have fun. He genuinely felt more relaxed and almost looked forward to spending the weekend home. Or… trying. He’s never not worked on a weekend before.

“Yes. Now stop your whining and lets go.” Yoongi knew better than to argue with Hoseok. At least he didn’t have anything weird planned like Yoongi had thought earlier. There was no telling with Hoseok around.

“Two whiskeys please. Neat.” The bartender shoots Hoseok a nod before he starts pouring the drinks. Yoongi sweeps his gaze across the floor of the upscale bar. He couldn’t remember the last time he visited here with Hoseok or any other office friend really. But after a whole day of outings with his best friend, an amazing dinner and now this, he was starting to remember how much spontaneous fun he used to have. He wasn’t 21 anymore and going to clubs and spending his hard earned money on lap dancers wasn’t exactly his forte. But enjoying a top quality Whiskey definitely was.

“Feels good doesn’t it? Drinking in peace and not worrying about going somewhere tomorrow so you have to stay completely sober?” Hoseok’s grin has Yoongi relenting his facial muscles as well as he just nods.

“Yup. Thanks for today. It’s been a while since we came here, huh?”

“I’ve been here plenty hyung. Just not with you in a while so I have to admit, you’re probably the best company.”

“Well shit,” Yoongi can’t help but laugh, “Even better than that Irene chick?”

“Even better than her.” Both of them chuckling in unison, clinking their glasses. “Cheers.”

“Remember when we first came here?” That was all it took for Hoseok to start laughing uncontrollably.

The rumbling thunder was making you nervous. You were supposed to finish a bunch of file analysis today and submit it to your supervisor before you left. It was already well past 9pm and you still had three more manila folders to go through. There was no room for you to mess this up. You’d just been hired in their college graduate program, earning the position through the diligent work you’d done during your internship. It was rare that Kim Inc hired staff through their internships. They were merely a gateway platform for students to try and earn a position elsewhere with their name on the resumé. Which wasn’t difficult after having spent even a few weeks at the company.

Their reputation was nothing short of ruthless. Hard work took up a whole another meaning and you had discovered that yourself when more than once your colleagues had cried in the bathroom because of the pressure. It was a cutthroat business and your supervisors in each department you’d worked at had let you know exactly that. Still, the extremely work-orientated mannerisms of your superiors around you only pushed you to do better yourself. If you were on top of everything, the rewards were plenty. Only ones who couldn’t handle the pressure really felt like everything was unfair. Because that had been you at first. Now you knew better than to complain about the company that would help you pave the way for yourself. You needed this job to create a picture perfect record of your work ethics and achievements so you could one day work for yourself. One day at a time right?

Glancing at the clock however, the minutes were escaping you quicker than what you would’ve liked. You had recently been transferred to the materials department. Where all the products your company made were designed and their prototypes developed before being transferred to other departments. You’d been told too many horror stories about the head od department, Mr. Min, to act like this was just like any other job. His department was infamous for producing almost perfect prototypes that when they were sent to be assembled and polished, the other departments rarely had to do much else. And because of that efficiency and work ethic, Mr. Min was praised countless times a day by your superiors while the common employees were scared shitless of the guy. Though you’d never actually seen him in person, you believed when your supervisor, Ilhoon had told you to not be mistaken and slack off.

So here you were, slaving away at your desk, typing your analysis in to the computer furiously while trying to glance outside the massive glass walls at the same time. It seemed like it was going to rain heavily and your time was running out. It was almost 10pm and that was the deadline you’d set for yourself. You didn’t want to cut corners but you also didn’t want to push your luck with the storm. The offices were in the middle of the city while you lived in a more modest part of town so it would take you at least 30 minutes to get home on public transport. You’d just started working at your current job so you hadn’t been able to save much for a car when you always ended up spending your money on decorating your apartment.

“Crap.” Muttering all sorts of prayers under your breath, you finally start on the last report, just shy of 20 minutes until 10pm. Thankfully, your increased fervour to have everything finished before you left must have paid off – or maybe your prayers answered? – and you were running the report through the spell check before sending it to Ilhoon and scurrying out of the floor. As if sensing that you were just about to head home – the storm has all but started raging hard, raining mercilessly and swinging the trees in all directions with the force of the wind. Even the elevator lights were flickering occasionally.

You really needed to get a move on if you were to get home. Running in heels wasn’t your strong suit but you managed the best you could. Thankfully your skirt wasn’t a flowy one today but a more pencil shape so you wouldn’t have to worry about holding it down because of the ferocious wind. The security guard at the front door bids you good bye after asking you if you needed a taxi – which you stupidly declined. Too ambitious thinking you could make it to the bus on time. But that shouldn’t have been the only problem you should’ve thought about. At 10pm, there weren’t that many people using the buses as their preferred commute. And definitely on such a stormy night. Which meant that the only other person on the bus with you was a greasy looking man that looked older than he probably was because of his blackening teeth and matted down hair. His clothes weren’t faring well either but you still clung on to the tiniest bit of hope that he wanted nothing to do with you.

Of course that was stupid to think because ever since you’d gotten on, he had been staring. Did he really not have anyone else to bother tonight? You were starting to get nervous and somewhere deep down you knew he was waiting to get off where you were. And letting him know where you lived wasn’t something you were too keen on. To make matters worse, just 10 minutes in the ride – with many stops because of the traffic in the rain – the man had gotten up from his seat at the back and started walking towards you. Your heart was thumping loudly and the nervous edge was becoming sharper and sharper. Making you feel entrapped. But not just metaphorically when the man sits right behind you, not faltering with his eye contact.

Okay you needed to do something now. Maybe pretending to text will make him lose interest? If he knew there was someone who knew where you were right now he’d maybe leave you alone. Quickly, you rummage through your bag, taking out your cell phone from the bottom of it. The relief is short lived when you punch in your passcode and see that it only has 5% of battery left in it. You try not to look panicked, still glancing out the window to just see a bunch of pouring rain and the trees dancing in it. There was no time to preserve the battery, you just needed to look like you were conversing with someone.

It works fine for a few minutes until your phone gets stuck, making your heart drop when you sense the inevitable. Just after a few seconds, it shuts off completely and right then, from the corner of your eyes, you can see the man watching your downfall. He’s been on the bus for god knows how long and now that he’s been watching you for the last 15 minutes, there is no way this is just a coincidence. He was following you. Without thinking, your panicky brain has decided that you needed to get off and maybe catch the bus after this. You could wait on the bus stop until the next one arrived which shouldn’t be too long but at least there was a chance of more people being present on the bus. Or not at all. You didn’t care as long as you were away from the foul smelling man sitting right behind you.

“Hey there pretty woman. You headed to Marsden Park too?” The beating of your heart was so loud in your ears after hearing the familiar name of your suburb that you wanted to jump out right that instant. It’s then you realise he’s seen the name of the suburb on your ticket and definitely knew where you were going.

“N-No. I’m going to see a f-friend.” Without wasting anymore time, you’ve pressed the stop button on the bus, getting off at the next stop. Surely you weren’t too far off from your suburb? You’d been in the bus for ages you must be a little far from the city. To your total and utter dismay, you haven’t even left the area that qualifies as the actual city. All this time on the bus and you were stuck a mere few miles from your office?

However, you’ve been shaken out of your meltdown when you notice the same man you’ve been trying to avoid, get off the bus too. “Oh god, no.”

You’re walking fast, not even thinking about the fact that the rain is soaking you from top to bottom. You couldn’t exactly stay at the bus stop! He would probably rape and kill you right then. There was no sign of anyone else around. Especially since this neighbourhood seemed to be filled with endless number of mansions. You could hear his footsteps on the side walk as your heels clicked, the rain not drowning out its sound completely. Maybe you could just knock at one of the doors and someone would answer? But you knew it would be not in your favour since none of the houses had even the front porch light on. Were all these people dead? Why wasn’t anyone home damnit!

You glance back and see the man not too far behind and decide to cross the road. There was an intersection coming ahead so maybe you could dodge him by walking to one of the streets. At this point, you were soaked. Your blouse and skirt completely stuck to your body, making the fabric heavier and harder for you to walk in. Walking faster, you curse yourself for wearing heels. They practically gave away where you were heading! Looking back, you see the man stopped in his tracks, seemingly trying to tie his shoelaces and you see that as an opportunity to make a run for it. Quickly, you cross the road, heels clicking and alerting the man as he tries to get up and run after you. However an oncoming car right as you’ve crossed the road to a street filled with even bigger houses, races down the road, splashing water almost violently on to him and you can hear him yell.

“Motherfucking rich bastards! Fucking racing their fucking cars!” His voice is even more threatening and scary than you remember and your fight or flight instincts finally help you make a decision for the better. Reaching down you take off your heels, chucking them on the opposite side of the road towards the other street before you make a run inwards, hoping to find a house that will let you in and call your friend or police or something!

“Where are you bitch?! You can’t run away from me just yet pretty lady.” Bitch and pretty lady in the same sentence? If you weren’t scared to death you’d laugh at how much of a ladies man he is.

You must have thrown him off at least a little because his voice sounds a bit distant now. You take this as your que to try and find someone who actually lives here. God must have listened to your prayers as you see sliver of light filtering through from a house right towards the end of the road. You run like hell towards it, hoping and praying that someone is actually home. Another obstacle you didn’t think about was the fact that before getting to the front door, you would need to get past the security cameras. But it was a matter of your life at this point so you just keep running, coming to stop before what seems to be a CCTV camera and a touchscreen pad that shows you standing in front of it. There is an option to ring inside the house and you frantically try to press it. Or you think you pressed it? It’s all touchscreen and you assume that it must be able register a touch even through water.

Finally, a light turns on after your endless smashing on top of the ring button. The light is flashing right across your face, momentarily blinding you with its brightness.

“H-Hello?! Is anyone listening?! Help me, please!” You’re almost in tears at this point, glancing around you. Your voice had been loud and there was a very possible chance that the man chasing you could have heard.

“Do you not see the sign? No sales person.” A deep, lazy drawl comes through the speakers and you’re enraged. Did you look like you were here to sell something? You needed help!

Right on cue, you can see a figure walking fast inwards to the road. It was raining so hard you couldn’t even see properly. But all you cared about was getting inside somewhere safe. So swallowing your anger, you try to plead your way in.

“Please. Help me! Someone is following me.” Your eyes try to portray your desperation and fear. There was no part of you acting at this point as a sob escapes your lips that have started to tremble from the cooling temperature of your body. There is a silence for the next few seconds and you can’t help but look down. He wasn’t going to let you in, was he?

“Seriously? You want to leave now? At,” Hoseok makes a show of glancing down at his Piguet watch, “Half past 9?”

Yoongi doesn’t have time to argue with him. He felt deliciously tipsy from the Whiskey and wanted to relax in his massage chair at home, make some beats, play piano or whatever the fuck he pleased to do. He was on this ‘rest’ high and wanted to ride it as long as he could before his brain manipulated him into going back to work.

“Yup. Hyung had fun but now I need to get home. Enjoyed wasting time with you Hoseok.” He pats his back while Hoseok only shoves him playfully, muttering a ‘shut up’.

“I got this.” Hoseok had shouted him dinner, it was the least he could do for his best friend.

“Look at you. Taking care of me for once.”

“Don’t mention it. I know you’re poor right now.” Hoseok just rolls his eyes at Yoongi’s attempt at humour. Waiting to drop the bomb on him just as they’re both leaving the bar.

“Well, I’m not too mad. I’ll send your gift home then.” And there it was. Hoseok had been up to something. Yoongi knew it!

“What did you do, Hoseok? I swear to god if it-” Hoseok only pats Yoongi’s shoulder, winking in his direction.

“Relax. It’s just a little something to get you little guy stirring.”

“Fuck you there is nothing little about my dick.” He’s immediately ashamed at how juvenile that response was. Whiskey really turned down his inhibitions.

“Then enjoy the damsel in distress I’ve sent for you.” Yoongi shrugs off Hoseok’s hand off his shoulder. That little shit. Strippers again?

“Seriously? You’re sending me a stripper as a ‘gift’?” Yoongi just waits for his response, about to clock him so Hoseok just makes a run for his car as he shouts.

“This one is something else hyung. She’ll fix everything, trust me. Now have fun and you’re welcome!”

“Hoseok you dumbass! I wanted to relax not babysit a 20 year old that needs to pay her college fees!” No luck. Hoseok has already slipped in to his car as his driver takes off while Yoongi’s waits patiently.

“Would you like me to take you to a hotel, sir?” His staff knew him too well but glancing at the impending storm, Yoongi decides it’s probably best to head home in case she’s already waiting. Didn’t want a prostitute dying at his door. That will definitely crush any hopes he had of being a sole owner of the company.

He sighs, looking at his driver. “It’s alright. Take me home so I can at least have you drive her back since it might start raining.”

“Right away.”

The car ride is long and Yoongi is home even before the thunder starts. He lived close to work, in a more quieter neighbourhood to relax in peace. He had tried living in the heart of the city but it didn’t work out with the amount noise he lived in. Still thinking about what Hoseok had said and wanting to call him just to curse him out and hang up. There was no stripper or lap dancer or a damn prostitute out there that could fix his problem. He’d tried and it hadn’t worked. No point in humiliating himself even further. Mina going around town to spread the news about his failing genitals was enough. He just wanted to spend time by himself now. Sure, he might not be that old but his soul already felt like it. He just wanted to maybe watch TV or have a nap.

Damn, he really was that old. By now, the rain was in full swing. Thundering outside like no tomorrow. Turning on the sound system to some beats he’d worked on a few months back that suited just right with the weather, Yoongi exchanges his suit for a more comfortable cotton t-shirt and his lounge pants. His body was considerably toasty after the night cap and he was too relaxed to be worried about anything. Until there is a ring. Many rings to be exact. It’s like whoever was at the main gate had the patience of a five year old. Figures, if that’s the stripper. Because they were all rarely above 21.

He gets the call directly transferred to his phone and after a few rings, he picks up. Immediately, he can hear distressed breathing before the person speaks up. “H-Hello?! Is anyone listening?! Help me, please!”

It’s unmistakably a female voice. Particularly sounding like a damsel in distress – just the way Hoseok had described. Fucking hell, role play? Really? Whatever she was doing, she was selling it quite convincingly.

“Do you not see the sign? No sales person.” Yoongi felt a smidgen of regret when he said the words out loud on instinct. It wasn’t her fault that his best friend was a dumbass and decided to hire a hooker on the worst night of all. He could hear the thunder and the rain in the background and the way her next words were shaky and pleading, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Please. Help me! Someone is following me.”

Someone following her? That was creative, he’ll give her that. Sighing, Yoongi has to summon all the energy from each limb of his body to get up and walk towards the intercom after contemplating whether he should let her in or just send his driver to drive her home. Quickly, Yoongi hangs up before dialling Hoseok’s number. Which of course, goes straight to voicemail.

“Hoseok you asscrack. There is a girl very ‘distressed’ and claiming someone is ‘following her’. I don’t know whether to applaud you for finding someone who is half decent at acting or ring your neck the next time I see you, freak!”

He’s quickly hanging up, when he reaches the touchscreen intercom, pulling up the CCTV camera to see the person outside his house. Which is a big mistake. His original plan had been to send her straight home, already calling his driver – which he abruptly hangs up on. The woman on the other end looks nothing short of a wet dream. Literally. You’re soaked from the rain, your clothes cling to your frame enticingly and your bambi eyes are staring up at the camera so earnestly Yoongi wonders if this is what you’ll look like on your knees when you beg for him to let you have his cock.

Said cock twitches. Hardening so rapidly in his pants that he actually looks down like it’s the strangest thing. Yoongi almost forgets to open the main gate and finally notices you looking down as if defeated.

You really were good at acting out this role. It almost seemed real. Whatever it was that you were doing; it was working. Yoongi felt hot in his pants already and that was saying something.

“Come in.” He can see the sheer relief in your eyes as you mutter ‘thank you’ over and over. A few more seconds later, there is a knock at the front door. Yoongi walks towards it, hesitating before cracking the door open and finally facing his downfall.

There you were, clinging to yourself as your clothes dripped at his front porch, nipples poking through the fabric of your blouse as the skirt showcased the curve of your supple ass. Your teeth were clattering, shaking Yoongi out of his fantasies enough to let you in. Maybe Hoseok’s idea wasn’t that bad aftercall. He’d be smug about this. Bastard.

“M-May I?” Yoongi just steps to the side, making you stare at him for a little while longer before you walk past him and inside.

His reaction to your body was instant and scorching. He felt hot all over and all he wanted to do was lick the rain drops off your skin, hating the fact that you needed a towel so his furniture wasn’t ruined. Buying new furniture was a hassle.

You’re looking around his large living room like you’ve never seen anything like it before. And perhaps you hadn’t. He couldn’t of a strip club that looked like his house. It was a shame he was having this reaction to a hooker and not someone he was actually in a relationship with. But oh well. At least he’ll get laid tonight. Retrieving some towels from the guest bathroom, he walks back to the living room where you stood in the corner like a timid mouse, still clinging to yourself protectively.

“Here.” Yoongi clears his throat when his words come out too gruff. He needed to top acting like a damn virgin. You grab the fluffy towel from him with the smallest, prettiest hands he’d ever seen. They’d look even smaller with his in them. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to have you. You needed to hurry up before he prematurely ejaculated in his pants.

“T-Thank you. I really appreciate y-your help. I won’t stay long. Just until the storm subsides.”

Wow, you were really going to play the game to completion, huh? Every expression, every nervous shuffle of your feet was so genuine he couldn’t even tell that this was all some sort of play. Hoseok probably had you dropped off outside his house. But no worries, he’ll play along with you.

Yoongi can’t help the smirk that fights its way across his mouth, body buzzing and mind more stimulated than ever. “I’ll get you some clothes, how about that?”

Your head shoots up at his voice, watching his mouth move as he tilts his head backwards, gesturing towards where his room was probably.

“Oh uh… T-Thank you.” You could use some warm clothes. It was starting to get frosty in these cold, wet clothes.

Yoongi has to adjust himself as he walks back to his room, shaking his head at the prospect of playing along to whatever script you were following. But enough games. He needed to have you soon. Taking a white shirt like the one he wore, he noticed the length of it should cover your bottom too. He walks back to the living room where you stood drying your hair with the towel.

It looked so silky and inviting. Inviting his hands to thread through it and grab a hold of it until he brought your mouth down to thrust his cock in to. Fuck he was so hard. You don’t seem to notice his state though. Or you’re amazing at playing innocent. You must be a pro then. Having done this many times. But he tried to keep the inner monologue to a minimum as he hands you the shirt, never wavering his gaze from your body.

You bow towards him in gratitude, keeping your gaze lowered unlike his. “T-Thank you.”

Your pretty hands grab the garment from his hands, noticing the obvious lack of pants but you try not to show it.

What the hell was happening? How did you stumble upon a mansion that apparently belonged to the most handsome man you’d laid your eyes on in a while? And why was this hot, sort of kind, stranger just handing you a shirt? You didn’t want to come off as ungrateful to someone who’d let a complete stranger in their house.

But the way he looked at you, with such carnal lust, had you feeling dizzy. Why did he look at you like he expected something? Your body was warming up considerably whenever you took a chance to look up and see him staring you down like he wanted to eat you. There was no way your hot mess self looked attractive to this man, right? Your hair was a mess, your clothes were sticking to you unattractively and you were shivering still. The inside of his house was definitely warm. But you needed to get warmer. So you had no choice but to at least change your shirt.

He continues to kneel against the wall, inspecting you like you were a puzzle to be solved when it should be the other way around. “Um, do you have p-pants?”

What a stupid question to ask. Of course he did! But it was too late. He was already looking away, obviously trying to hide a smile and you curse yourself inside your head. “All in the wash, sorry.”

And that’s it. He nonchalantly shrugs, pursing his lips like he’s sorry while appearing to be completely non-apologetic.

Yes you’ve walked in to a complete strangers house. You didn’t even ask his name. But somehow, you didn’t feel the creeping fear that you had in the bus. In fact, you almost felt… relaxed. Not scared, just shy. Not every day you meet men as handsome as him.

“O-Okay. I’ll just change-”

“Here. I’ll turn my back.” He takes his sweet time, turning around and ever passing second makes your body temperature climb higher. Why weren’t you running out of the door? You’ll probably die of pneumonia outside so might as well stay here.

You turn yourself around as well, not about to give him a show even if he was looking away. You make haste of your blouse and bra, rolling them in a pile before slipping on the white cotton shirt – that was the softest thing you’d felt, by the way. When the shirt falls below your butt, you decide you can take off the skirt as well and just wrap the towel around your waist. Just when you discard the skirt on to the pile of clothes, you hear him speak up.

“You’re good.” A beautiful, deep chuckle follows his remark and you can’t help but spin around to face him – and he’s leaning against the wall like previously, staring straight at you.

“E-Excuse me?” What was he talking about?

Stalking forward slowly, he doesn’t stop until he’s only a mere metres away from you. “No one has been able to get me this worked up in a while.”

His breath caresses your cheeks with each whisper and you’re so enchanted you don’t even thin to question whatever the hell he’s talking about. Though you’re standing only in a think white t-shirt in front of him, hair wet and soaking through your t-shirt – your body felt like it was on fire. A nervous excitement ran through your shivering frame and you weren’t even sure if it was from the cold or just him. Your nipples had pebbled even harder at his close proximity.

Suddenly, his hand had slid around your waist, gripping it tight while the other cupped your cheek. “I’ll thank Hoseok later for you. Right now I need you.”

“W-What? Who-” You don’t get an answer but you do get his tongue. Forcing it’s way in your mouth, hot and searing. The moan that leaves you is involuntary and you curse your body for giving in to a stranger so quick. Why were you even letting this man kiss you? Did he mistake you for someone else? That must be it. You had no idea who this Hoseok was. But not all of it is his fault when you’re not even trying hard enough to break away from his mouth. He’s pulling your mouth in deep kisses. Kissing you until you feel light-headed and breathless and only then does he break away to let you breathe.

“S-Sir I’m not-” But he only interrupts you before covering your mouth with his own again.

“Call me Yoongi baby.” Yoongi. Why did that sound familiar? You didn’t have the brain capacity to think about anything other than his mouth right now. His hand on your waist had pressed you even tighter against his frame that you could feel every ridge, every curve on him. That also meant the impossibly hard cock that protruded heavily between his legs, pressing against your lower stomach. Due to your not so large of a height difference, you could almost feel him pressed right to your center.

His hand cupping your face was roaming all over your body, down your sides, across your chest to fondle your nipples and making you arch your back further in to him. It took you ages to warm up while it only took Yoongi a few kisses. He finally breaks away, only to pick you up by the waist and walking towards the couch to sit, making you straddle his waist. Thank god you still had your panties on because if your sensitive clit felt even an ounce of friction from his sweatpants, you would cum right on the spot.

“I’m n-not who you think I might- oh.” Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Yoongi starts to move your hips on to his erection – slowly torturing you to your end.

“And I’m not usually this hard from just a kiss baby. No need to play games anymore. I’ll be taking everything you’re here to give.”

You don’t even know what he means anymore but the way he growls out his words has you shaking from nervous excitement. And this time, your fear isn’t for your life but for your lady parts. This man looked beyond even his own control and you don’t know what he thinks you’re here to give him. But you might just be willing to give him everything when he rolls his hips up in to yours, his hard length nudging squarely on your clit making you shout.

“Yoongi!”

“That’s it, y/n. There you go baby.” You’re too far gone to even question how he knows your name. You���re only trying to hold on to your sanity or what’s left of it as he batters your clit each time he pushes you down while simultaneously pushing his cock up.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard you’ll forget all the other men.” You’d only had one boyfriend in college, so you’re not sure what men he’s referring to but you don’t care. You’d be whoever he wants at this point if he’s going to make you cum.

“Ah Y-Yoongi, I’m g-going to cum.” You’ve started to push down on him, chasing your own high as your mouth falls permanently open while tears sting your eyes at how intense the sensations are. It really is different when someone else makes you cum. This definitely wasn’t anything like your own hand.

“Then cum. Soak my lap and show me what a dirty girl you are. Want you squirting over my cock.” His filthy mouth was your downfall and you were throwing your head back in no time as you screamed out your climax. Riding the waves as Yoongi continued to grind his cock in your pussy long after the aftershocks pass, making you a twitching mess on top of him.

“O-Oh,” you’re flinching away when the sensations become too much and yet, Yoongi doesn’t let up. Slipping his hand inside your panties to lewdly rub them over your cum soaked labia, spreading it even more.

“Look at that. You’re so wet. You came so much baby.” Yoongi’s voice is low and he stares at your face that’s staring down at his hands inside your underwear. It doesn’t help that his arms are incredibly veiny, pushed in your tiny panties. When he slips his fingers between your pussy lips and runs the pad of his thumb over your entrance – you both hiss. You from the sensitivity and him for entirely different reasons. He almost seems angry. Infuriated at what he finds.

“Your pussy is so tiny. Fuck. Tell me how am I going to fit in there, hm?” You can’t do anything but cry out through your tears when he slips two fingers in from the get go. Squelching noises sound obscenely as he scissors your pussy with his index and middle finger. You’re so wet you’re making a visible mess on him, staining his sweatpants further.

“At least you’re wet enough so I can slide my cock in without worrying about tearing your little pussy up.” He’s gritting out between clenched teeth, jolting your body with each thrust of his hand. Your shaking frame is anchored to Yoongi by your hand fisted in his own shirt while the other slips down to try and get a feel of him. Beneath you, he felt so mouth-wateringly hard but you needed to cop a real feel of him. To which he swatted your hands away.

“You’ll get to feel plenty of my cock sweetheart. Be patient for now.” And you just whined at his scolding. Not being able to wait in order to feel his cock inside you. Your entrance clenched every time you even thought about having him inside and each time, Yoongi gave a loud spanking to your ass for trying to lock his fingers out.

“I-I just need you so bad.” You’re bordering at desperation with the way you whine and plead with him. Moving your hips with each thrust of his digits. “Fuck. Oh god.”

Your head is thrown back, your mouth is open as you pant without shame, nearing your orgasm again. But Yoongi jolts your body in surprise when he takes in your hardened nipple between his teeth before sucking on it worshipfully right through it. You must look like a picture out of a porno magazine as you continue to shout with your head throat back, having your pussy fingered like no tomorrow and now – Yoongi sucking on your tits through your shirt, patching it with wet spots of his saliva.

“Ah, ah, ah,” A symphony of high pitched moans – uncontrollable in your defence – fall from your lips as you stand at the edge of your peak, right there. You needed no more than a mere few seconds to reach that blissful high again. Until it’s ripped brutally from you with a loud squelch.

“Fuck… look at that.” You’re trying to gather your breath while from you peripheral vision, you can see admire his soaked hand. Your essence dripping down his wrists and your whole face warms up at the lewd image. You knew you got a little too wet. The brat in you wanted to cum and she claws at Yoongi’s shirt as you whine your protest.

“You can’t even catch your breath and you’re complaining about wanting to cum? Filthy, nasty girl.” His growling only makes you wetter, didn’t he notice?

Or maybe that’s why he does it. Who knows.

Your face is buried in his neck, trying to catch your breath as your pussy continuously clenches, so swollen and ready to cum again that you don’t notice the skinny perfume bottle he’d grabbed from your bag that was on the couch. What was he doing with that.

“Lean back, y/n.” You muster up all your energy, pulling away from the warm crevice of his neck and leaning back until you notice the predatory glaze over his eyes. Yoongi watches you shift backwards on his lap, glancing at the perfume bottle in his hand and then back to his face.

He brings your head forward to push his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you in a sloppy, hot mess before pulling back. “Open.”

Without question, you open your mouth before he shoves the cold perfume bottle inside your mouth. “Hmphf.”

Immediately, you moan and lick around it, making it wet with your saliva. Almost sensing what he was about to do. And you’re right in your suspicions when Yoongi pulls the object out of your mouth and pushes it between your labia to coat it in your sticky arousal.

“So damn wet. You’re leaking like a broken fucking tap y/n. Do I turn you on his much.” You just moan out your reply as he massages all around your sensitive pussy with the object. Right before he pushes the object the length of his hand, inside your clenching pussy.

“Yoongi, oh god. P-Please fuck me. I need you so bad oh god.” Your begging had started already and he hadn’t even pushed the bottle all the way inside you. The cool glass bottle felt so nice against your burning hot skin. And when Yoongi pulled it out just to thrust it back in, you felt the tears escape the corner of your eyes from the sheer pleasure. The bottle was thicker than his two fingers and the slight burn of the stretch had you gasping.

“And you will have me baby. I just need to stretch your pussy out. You don’t want Oppa to tear your pussy now do you, hm?” Oh you wanted that so much. But you could only look down at his vascular hand working in object is and out of your squelching pussy. His lap was almost soaked all the way through with how much you were dripping on him. Even while insanely hard beneath you, Yoongi possessed such control over his own desires that it made him that much more attractive to you. You couldn’t believe he was holding out this long.

“I-I wa-ah-ant oppa to fuck me, please.” Tears were stinging your eyes again and you had lost any semblance of shame. With shaking hands, you took off the cotton shirt, baring your breasts to his eyes as you thrusted them in his face. Hoping to entice him in to ending this torture.

And it seemed to have worked when he shoves the bottle all the way up your pussy before growling at you again. “Get on your knees.”

Your legs were jello but you weren’t about to pass up on the opportunity to taste him just like he was tasting you. Licking up your slick from his fingers and his wrist. Quickly, you slid down to your knees like shapeless matter, plopping down as he watched you.

“Take off my pants baby. Get me ready for your little pussy.”

With trembling hands, you take off his sweatpants, eyes bulging out of your head at the sheer sizeable girth of him. How did he contain that monster? Even just in the sweatpants? He looked painfully hard and you felt bad for having all the attention on you. This couldn’t be pleasant for him, waiting out this long.

“Go on, baby. Get me nice and wet like your pussy.” One thing was definite – his dirty talk had you acting more depraved than you ever had before with someone. You were never the one so readily and brazenly sinking to your knees to in turn sink your mouth down someone’s cock.

Him forgoing underwear was the best discovery because now you could go straight to stuffing your mouth full of his cock. Which you do. Licking from the bottom to the top like some icicle, you wet him thoroughly with your saliva before attempting to sink down on his length. Yoongi was started to breathe heavy, threading his fingers in your hair to slowly guide you over him all the while he cursed under his breath about how hot you looked.

“Fuck, I want to cum all over your pretty face, your tits, over your pussy, in your pussy.” He looked like he was losing control with each word that slipped his mouth, watching you moan around his length while you grasped the base that didn’t go in to your mouth. Yoongi clearly didn’t seem happy since he grabbed your hair in a tight hold, pulling you back from his cock – only to slam you down, filled to the brim until your nose rested against his pelvis.

“Fuck. Yes. Just a little bit baby. Let me fuck for mouth just a l-little.”

All you could do was hold on to his thighs for support as he thrusted his hips in to your mouth over and over. His pace pushing your body back each time he thrusted forward, making the bottle of perfume still inside your pussy, rub against your falls. You well clenching so hard on to the object, trying to move on it to get some sort of relief.

“Don’t. You better not cum unless it’s on my cock. Do you understand?” He doesn’t give you time to respond as he keeps assaulting your mouth – filling it with pre-cum each time he pulls back.

After a few more minutes and a lot of crying – Yoongi finally takes mercy on you, pulling his cock out of your mouth with an obscene ‘pop’. His cock is just as red and angry and your pussy is even more wet. You’re sitting on the floor, legs spread with the bottle of perfume shoved deep inside your pussy. Yoongi takes in your form, cursing under his breath as he looks you over, again and again.

“Come here y/n.” You pull yourself up, shakily getting on the couch where Yoongi lays you down before hovering his body over you.

“I’m going to fuck you until I cum inside your little pussy and have it flowing with my cum so good. Is that okay baby? That I fill you with so much cum your belly swells up? I don’t think there is another option.”

He says it all while looking you dead in the eyes like he’s helpless. Rubbing his cockhead on your enflamed pussy lips. He glances down once before pulling out the perfume bottle with a ‘pop.’ You’re breathing heavy and feel like you might hyperventilate. The anticipation so much for you to handle you wanted to reach down and shove him in already.

Just when you’re about to whine again, Yoongi pushes inside shallowly, fucking only his head inside your clenching entrance in short strokes.

“Yoongi,” you whine like a spoiled brat, “Fuck me already. I’ll d-die without your cock. I need it.” You’re clawing at him again, trying to take off his shirt. Which he does thankfully, chuckling at your desperate behaviour.

“I might need you around more often. Just so you can beg for my cock looking at pretty and pink. So fucked out you probably don’t even know what to do with yourself.”

He needed to shut up and screw you already!

He’s only pushing the head of his cock inside before pulling it out and shoving it back in again. And somehow even that has you so close to cumming you need to bite Yoongi’s shoulder to stop yourself from finishing before the main event. Finally, after what felt like eternity, Yoongi stops torturing you both and pushes himself rest of the way in.

“Oh fucking hell.” He’s glancing down at your enjoined bodied like he can’t believe what he’s feeling.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go slow babe. Your pussy is too good. Fuck I want to fuck the shit out of you.” And he does exactly that.

You can’t even scream as your mouth falls open when Yoongi starts to set a pounding rhythm. Slamming his hips in to yours that his cock nestles deep inside, tickling that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck yeah. Your pussy is weeping for me baby. You ever felt this good before?” You shake your head frantically, a sob falling free from your lips as you make the first sound since Yoongi started pistoning his hips inside you.

It felt like your pussy was made for his cock. Moulding so perfectly to every ridge and every vein as his naked skin slapped against your ass. Yoongi hikes your legs over his shoulders, almost folding you in half while pinning your hands above your head, completely trapping you. Not that you were going to run away. You could barely moan, only whimpering and sobbing as his cock continued to batter your core over and over.

“Is baby crying because it feels so good? Hm? You want my cock in your cunt forever?”

You nod, hiccupping with every word and every thrust, “ F-Forever-a-and e-ever.”

Yoongi coos at your wet face and contorting face as grinds his hips to hit a different angle inside you, making you scream.

“Then be a good girl and milk Oppa’s cock for all its cum. Come on. Cum and make me cum.”

His words make your pussy clench around him involuntarily, making him curse under his breath. Suddenly, his pace gets even faster, slamming his cock inside you in quick thrusts, battering that one spot over and over as all sound leaves you.

“Right there baby? Fuck you right there?” Your body arches and responds for you. A couple of more rapid slams later, you’re consumed by such intense pressure that finally erupts – it blacks you out for a second.

“Fuck, yes. Squirt for Oppa. All over his cock.” You realise what’s happening and realise it hasn’t stopped yet. You’re still cumming on to his cock, gripping him tight that Yoongi is faltering in his pace.

“Shit. You’re going to make me c-cum light that. Oh god.” Your orgasm is finally subsiding and your vision is clearing enough that you muster all your strength and clench around his cock before pushing yourself up on to it – making the fit even tighter that Yoongi is cumming on the spot.

“Fuck!” The sensations of his orgasm kick start his ministrations again, slamming his cock in you a few more times before his body collapses on top of you. He’d cum so much inside you that you could feel it trickle out around his length.

Both of you are panting hard. Bodies shaking while you hold on for dear life by hanging on to Yoongi. He seems so exhausted as he nuzzles his head in your breasts, hands wrapped around your waist as he pushes himself to the side so he isn’t crushing you. As he pulls out of you, you can see the white ring around the base of his cock that formed after he fucked in to you as he came, making your face heat up so much you thought you would catch on fire. Yoongi had seen it too and he only dips his fingers in the mess leaking from you before bringing it up and smearing it all over your nipples. You watch him as he leans down, softly taking the cum covered tit in his mouth before sucking it slowly. When you’re thoroughly clean, he sends you a mischievous smile before laying besides you.

It’s a comfortable silence and you’re just revelling in the post coital bliss until he speaks up and asks you a bizarre question. “So, what’s your real name?”

You just turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Y/n. That is my real name.”

When he continues to stare at you, you ask him a question of your own. “Who exactly do you think… am I?”

Yoongi turns to face you completely. Looking very much intrigued. “A… woman who was sent to service me by Hoseok?”

Trying to hold in your laughter, you try to respond. You should be angry really but the way his lips are set in a pout and he’s inspecting your face like he’s so utterly confused is the most adorable thing – and a vast contrast from the man who just fucked your brains out.

“I don’t know who that is. You have me confused with someone else.”

“So…. You really were being chased last night?” A grim look has taken over his features and without thinking, you slip your hand in to his own before you answer.

“I believe so. This grotty old man followed me all the way down to this street. But thanks to you I’m okay.”

You might be playing down the incident that had you sobbing and running across the street but really, you were safe and you had met Yoongi. You couldn’t be mad even if you tried to. Yoongi on the other hand, is already on the phone with someone.

“Yong-Chol, please have the street cams pulled and find any trace of a man running after a young woman last night around 10pm.” He hangs up right after.

“I’m fine! You don’ have to do this.” Gripping his face, you peck his lips shyly – not sure if he wanted you to do that when he thought you were a Hooker not even ten minutes ago.

Thankfully he just grabs your hands in his before kissing your fingertips.

“I know. I want to. Frankly I want to wring that bastard’s neck for making you so upset.” Your heart was bleeding at how sweet he was. “Speaking of wringing, I need to make a call.”

You just law on the comfortable couch, still entangled with him as he calls Hoseok. Who picks up almost immediately.

“Hyung! Finally you picked up.”

“Hello to you too.”

“So uh… who did you exactly fuck last night? Because Leeane never made it.”

Yoongi can’t help but snort as he looks at you when he answers. “I figured. And who I’m with is none of your business. Now leave me alone. It’s my day off.”

“Damn hyung. I love it-” Yoongi just hangs up, rolling over to your side.

“So… I know I’m doing this backwards but, let’s go on a date on Monday? What do you say?”

Crap. You had to be at work extra early in the morning to be present at the analysis presentation of your entire department to the head, Mr. Min.

“I can’t,” you wrap your arms around his lithe torso as he does the same. “I have to be at this big meeting that we have where we present our work to our apparently big, meanie of a boss.” You pout for effect and Yoongi just pecks your lips.

“Where do you work baby?” The nickname has you blushing again and Yoongi just chuckles.

“Kim Inc.”

There is a silence so profound you wonder if you said the wrong thing. Until Yoongi breaks out in to the most beautiful, body consuming laugh.

“I’ll have a word with your big, mean boss. Come here.”

He just pulls you in another breathtaking kiss while you’re just wondering…. How?

Oh how naïve you were.

[myaekingheart]

117. Proving Grounds

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

               Approaching the 44th Training Ground felt like a death sentence—no wonder it was aptly named the Forest of Death. Rei chewed the inside of her cheek anxiously as she followed her team, studying their every move as they went. Morning had come far too quickly and she was left scared and unsure, constantly contemplating the decision she now had to make. She wasn’t sure if she could do this.

               Rei’s head pounded as she and her protegees stood attention in the hokage office that morning, prepared to receive instruction for their final test. This was what their training in Ishoku would all boil down to: the moment to prove their worth, that the scrapes and bruises and overflow of knowledge actually amounted to something. Lady Tsunade looked upon them proudly and critically, with a twinge of stoic concern in her eyes. She knew these final exams were rigorous, as they needed to be, and that Rei would not go easy on them but she hoped that in doing so, these new recruits would shed their seemingly stubborn naivete. That Rei would push them to their limits and ingrain the importance of mastery into their heads, just as Kakashi did for her. One false move and you’re dead.

               “For your final exam” she had begun, “You will be put through a simulation of a common ANBU mission. Together, you will track and capture a highly dangerous traitor-nin and return him unharmed to the front gates of the 44th Training Ground. If you cannot handle this, then there is no way you will ever survive in the field, understood?”

               Hitsuji, the nerdy one, cleared his throat and raised his hand shyly. “So what are the requirements? Shouldn’t we have some sort of strategy? What is our plan of attack?”

               “Whatever tactics you use will be up to you” Lady Tsunade replied flippantly, tilting her head towards Rei. “I presume your captain will lead you dutifully just as if this were a real mission, which I suggest you approach this as.”

               A small, sour smile touched Rei’s lips as she bid Tsunade goodbye and guided her students to their deaths. Toshio followed closely by her side with Yugao not far behind. In her body language alone, Rei could tell she was skeptical. That she knew there was something strange afoot, that Rei was plotting something ominous behind everyone else’s backs. If only she could figure out what.

               Now that they were here, Rei wasn’t so sure that she could do this—any of it. Something itched within her chest, vivid memories of when she, too, was merely a rookie clouding her vision. What if Kakashi hadn’t been as kind to her? What if she had lost her chance thanks to the selfishness of a superior? But things were completely different now. She knew what she was getting into. She was well-prepared and humbled. Those halcyon days of training were like a completely separate lifetime. She was a captain now. She had been doing this for years and had come so far. She tried to remain calm and collected as they stepped foot into the Forest of Death, with clenched fists and a sharp gaze. Toshio nuzzled her hand reassuringly, as if reminding her that there was nothing that she could not handle.

               Sukui shivered as they halted at the mouth of the forest, looking around uncertainly. “This place gives me the creeps” he muttered.

               “You give me the creeps” Arai scoffed. Sukui frowned and rolled his eyes, clearly displeased with his comrade’s harsh criticism.

               “I heard this is where people go to commit suicide” Hitsuji commented, voice quivering. He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand, then wiped his hand on his pants awkwardly. His gaze slowly lifted to the sky, to the menacing branches snaking overhead like spindly arms itching to kidnap. Hitsuji recoiled, slumping down with arms wrapped tight around his waist, as if he was trying to shrink himself to the lowest common denominator, to completely disappear.

               “No, you idiot” Kikkake groaned, “That’s Aokigahara. This is where people go to get killed.”

               A small smile, cocky and challenging, touched Arai’s lips as she stepped forward to better view the abyss stretched before them. “What’s the difference?” she asked. “Either way, you’re a goner.”

               Clearing her throat, Rei redirected the group’s attention as she produced a small photograph from her back pouch. “Alright, no more wasting time” she began. She held the photo up for everyone to see, depicting a young, nondescript man—another ANBU, a volunteer. Rei could never understand why anyone would want to waste their time volunteering for training exercises like this but it likely paid well and was easy work so the allure was strong. “This is who you’re searching for. Get a good look now because I’m only going to show you this photo once.”

               Sukui blinked, chewing his lower lip anxiously, before slowly raising his hand. Yugao motioned for him to speak. “What if I’m face-blind?”

               Rei furrowed her brows. “Face-blind?” she repeated.

               Sukui nodded. “I can’t remember faces. What am I supposed to do if I can’t remember his face?”

               “How the fuck did you get through the training program if you can’t remember a godddamn face?” Rei asked, voice sharp and unforgiving. Sukui dropped his eyes to the ground, as if he was not willing to admit that he may have cheated. When he stalled to give a verbal answer, however, Rei swatted at the air and mumbled, “Well you better get a good hard look then and make yourself remember.”

               “So what’s the plan of attack, boss?” Arai asked sarcastically. She flicked the edge of the photograph with a smirk.

               Rei spluttered, stumbling over her words, before asking sharply, “Okay, first off: what the fuck is that about? Boss? What the fuck, can you not?”

               “Is that not what you are?” Arai asked back. Her voice dripped with disrespect.

               Rubbing her temples, Rei muttered, “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.” Deep down, however, she knew this was not worth arguing over. The headache had already started to form the moment she woke up. Any unnecessary debates were only going to worsen it at a much quicker pace. Shaking her head, Rei shoved the confusion and disgust out of her mind. “Whatever, it’s not important” she muttered. “We’ll split off in groups of two and fire signal flares when one of us has tracked down the rogue ninja in question” she explained. “We have twenty four hours to find, capture, and return him so I expect you all to bring your absolute best. And if one of you fails, all of you fail. So in other words: I woulndn’t fuck this up if I were you.”

               Arai, Hitsuji, Kikkake, and Sukui looked to one another in disgust and hesitancy as they considered who to pair off with. Of course Rei and Yugao would be together—as the leaders, it was only natural. They would likely watch from afar as their recruits struggled. Kikkake was the first to step up, grabbing Hitsuji by the arm.

               “Might as well just pick you” he muttered, “seeing as you’ll probably die out there on your own.”

               Arai watched him walk off to where the trees began to thicken, disbelief and frustration painting her face. “Hey, wait a minute! No fair! Why do I get stuck with Mr. Personality here?”

               Sukui scoffed in dramatic offense, slapping a hand to his chest. “Excuse you!” he exclaimed. “I am a delight! Anyone would be lucky to be paired with me! If anyone should be complaining, it should be me about you!”

               And so the headache worsened. Clenching her jaw, Rei whipped a kunai from her holster and launched it between the two of them. It whizzed past Arai’s ear, just barely missing her already choppily cut pigtail, before sticking into the trunk of a tree. “Both of you shut the fuck up!” Rei shouted. “I don’t give a damn who you’re paired with, just suck it up and deal with it.” Then, under her breath, she added sourly, “It’s not like it’ll make a difference anyway.”

               Yugao frowned as she watched her captain turn on her heels, preparing to depart. The new recruits watched with uncertainty, anxiety. “So what now?” Hitsuji asked, nearly clinging to Kikkake’s arm.

               Rei glanced to him over her shoulder, a sickening smirk touching her lips as she fixed her mask to her face and replied, “Just try not to die.” And with that, the three groups separated. They had twenty four hours. There was no way in hell this was going to end well.

               Yugao pursed her lips as she walked alongside Rei in the forest. Off in the distance, she could hear Kikkake and Hitsuji continuing a rather imbalanced argument over which direction they ought to go. Toshio nearly gave Rei and Yugao’s location away in the form of Hitsuji’s allergies, his sneezes interrupting his own anxious but well-informed arguments. It was clear that he was not a man of murder and mayhem but one of calculations and caution. His strength and confidence lacked something to be desired but he made up for it in his sheer intellect. He was nothing short of brilliant—a quality much needed within the ANBU.

               Still, however, it was clear that he and all the others were directionless. Literally. Biting her lip, Yugao asked quietly, “Do you think maybe we’re going a little, I don’t know, hard on them?”

               “Hard on them? Ha!” Rei laughed, shaking her head. “They don’t know the meaning of the word hard. Do you actually think any of these kids have what it takes to the be in the black ops? Be serious.”

               “Well, they have potential” Yugao replied.

               “Potential doesn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things” Rei said sharply. “Believe me, they have no idea what they’re up against. They’re not prepared for this. Let’s just lead them on for a little bit, make them think they have a chance, before we send them back to where they all came from.”

               There was something so dark and sinister about the way Rei was acting, something within her that Yugao was sure she had not quite seen before. Rei kept her face stony with eyes cold and lips taut, staring straight ahead. There was no mercy in her eyes. It all seemed so ruthless. Yugao didn’t remember things being this difficult when she first started out. What was Rei’s angle? What was she hiding? And was it beneficial to these young ones, or was Rei merely plotting their ultimate destruction? Yugao wasn’t sure which option made her feel sicker. If this was what being a lieutenant required of her, though, then this was nothing like what she had expected at all. She wasn’t so sure this was a job she was fit for. She couldn’t bring herself to willfully lead naïve recruits to their occupational demise. It just didn’t feel right.

               It was nearly sundown when a flare went off in the distance, alerting the others of a potential capture. Rei swallowed one last food pill before slipping her mask back on and diving into action, racing toward the source of the flare with Toshio right by her side. Based on the loud sneezes in the distance, Hitsuji and Kikkake were surely not far behind. Yugao watched her with focused intent, their group seamlessly joining with Hitsuji and Kikkake’s as their paths merged. The fear and anxiety on Hitsuji’s face was evident but Kikkake, on the other hand, matched Rei’s speed as if he was a seasoned ANBU himself. They ventured to nearly the complete other end of the training grounds before reuniting with Sukui and Arai.

               The volunteer missing-nin spared no expense in ensuring that his capture was as challenging as possible. When Rei arrived, he had knocked Sukui to the ground and was struggling with a combative Arai. A rustling in the bushes captured Toshio’s attention, bolting forward to chomp down on the arm of yet another missing-nin, a surprise accomplice. Of course, Rei thought to herself. Anything can happen on a mission; expect the unexpected. There is always backup. The man struggled as Toshio dragged him out into the light but not before he could pull a kunai from his holster and launch it straight for Sukui’s head. As if in slow motion, Sukui’s eyes widened and he winced, bracing himself for the impact. As if he had zero faith in his ability. As if he had already given up. Just as the kunai was about to strike, however, Rei leapt in front of the blade and deflected it with her own. The enemy kunai fell to the ground, glinting in the dusk sun.

               “Captain Rei!” Sukui exclaimed. There were stars in his eyes and a smile spreading across his lips. “My savior! With the body of a goddess, hair like an autumn day, swift and stunning and—”

               “Cut the crap, kid” Rei snapped. She flashed her left hand in his face, almost obnoxiously, as she added, “I’m engaged.” Sukui eyed the ring, blinking and nodding slowly, before hoisting himself up off the ground. Besides, Rei thought to herself, there are far more important things at hand.

               As if reading her mind, Sukui skirted around her and leapt in to help Arai. It was only fair: he had gotten her into this mess. He had fallen ineffectual in her time of need, left her to fight on her own. He had to repay her somehow for his own incompetency. Arai, however, seemed completely uninterested in his help.

               “Arai, my love!” he shouted, drawing a kunai of his own. “Allow me to fight by your side! An honor, a privilege, to just be near someone as ethereal as you! An Amazon! A goddess! Truly a—”

               Without even thinking, Arai whipped around and slapped Sukui out of the way. “Don’t even try it, you little cretin” she hissed. “Besides, I’ve got a boyfriend who could melt you in one glance.”

               Her strike was enough to send Sukui tumbling yet again, only this time he landed right in the lap of the enemy’s accomplice. Literally. Toshio bared his jaws as the man struggled but it was no use. He broke free and took Sukui into a chokehold, blade at the ready.

               “Either you comply” the rogue-nin fighting Arai began, “Or he slits his throat!”

               Arai scoffed and rolled her eyes, crouching to deliver another jab to the gut. “You say that is hfe means anything to me” she replied. “I couldn’t care less if he dies.”

               Across the battlefield, Rei froze. A shiver ran down her spine as lump formed in her throat, choking her. Something inside her began to break.

               Sukui whined, clearly offended, and rightfully so. The threat to his mortality led him to struggle further in the man’s grip as Yugao rushed to his aide. Meanwhile, Kikkake leapt into action to assist Arai much to her displeasure.

               “I can handle this perfectly fine without you” she sneered.

               Kikkake rolled his eyes, shoving her out of the way as he swung hard at the enemy. “I still don’t trust you” he grumbled. “Keep up that attitude and you’re bound to get yourself killed.”

               “That’s what you think” Arai scoffed, fighting her way back into the battle.

               On the sidelines, Hitsuji was having an existential crisis. There had to be some way for him to contribute, but his mind was racing and he was losing his cool. His thoughts were shifting into overdrive, surging with possibilities: both all the ways in which to help and all the ways in which they could die. Unfortunately, the latter was overflowing with far more potential. Percentages and possibilities clouded his vision. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He was of no help. There was nothing he could do.

               Amid his existential crisis, however, Hitsuji made himself a target. Another enemy revealed himself from the shadows, a kunai at the ready, fully prepared to strike. Rei saw the brush shift in her periphery and bolted toward the source of the sound, immobilizing him in one fell swoop. She pulled a thick rope from her back pouch and tied his hands behind his back, glaring at Hitsuji in a silent command to go help the others. If all he was going to do was stand idly by while his comrades were in danger, then he had no place on a battlefield to begin with.

               Yugao’s expertise had immobilized the accomplice and set Sukui free in the meantime. The blonde gasped for air and raked his fingers through his hair, as if clinging to whatever shred of his life he nearly lost.

               Across the field, Arai struggled to shove Kikkake out of the way in what had become a three-way fight. The main enemy scoffed at her immaturity, her determination. She was so desperate to play the hero. It was clear as day to everyone else how obsessed she was with this. Kikkake, however, was not about to let her endanger herself. She was too cocky, too naïve. Her insistence on independence was going to get her slaughtered.

               Once Kikkake finally pinned the enemy down and handcuffed him, Arai pouted and sneered at her comrade sourly. “I could’ve done that myself, you dick” she snapped.

               “Oh really?” Kikkake asked. “Because it doesn’t look like you were getting very far on your own.”

               “Well maybe if you hadn’t stepped in!” Arai shouted.

               Tugging her own capture up to his feet sharply, Rei shouted, “Enough!” and the entire wood fell silent. There was fire in her eyes, a deep and dark fury brimming with the promise of violence. “We’re finished here. You’ve all failed.”

               Failed. That word rang through all of their heads like a siren, wailing and desperate. They were all failures and Rei’s chest ached at the thought of how much she had wasted her own time. In the back of her mind, Arai’s words echoed in her ears. I couldn’t care less if he died. Truly, how dare she. Naru’s corpse flickered in her mind, her ghostly face and dull eyes. Rei had put everyone in danger. Rei had been given authority only to prove that she didn’t deserve it. She had caused her best friend’s death. And now here she was yet again strapped with the responsibility of leading others—others who did not respect the danger in which they were putting themselves in. Rei refused to let anyone else die on her watch. She refused to associate with shinobi who would ever condone such behavior. Her stomach flipped and for a moment, she was convinced she was going to be sick.

               Yugao blinked and clenched her fists at her sides, confused and almost even mildly offended. The exercise was a trainwreck, yes, but she still held a tiny glimmer of faith.

               Sukui fell to his knees and pressed his hands together in prayer as he gazed up at Rei, tears in his eyes. “My beautiful cherry blossom, I never meant to disrespect you!” he whined. “Please give me one more chance, and I promise I can prove my worth!”

               Disappointment painted Kikkake’s face and yet within that disappointment, there was also a sense of acceptance. He did not like to think of himself as a failure but he also understood that they were being judged not as individuals but as a group. And if this group was any indication, they were a bona fide failure at launch. The four of them were never meant to be a team in the first place. If they were not willing to work together, then they needed to be prepared to die together. Kikkake trusted Rei’s judgment and respected her authority on this. He was not going to put up a fight regardless of whether or not his future was on the line.

               If Hitsuji wasn’t already having enough of an existential crisis, his anxiety was overbearing now.  He instinctively grasped Kikkake’s arm as he spaced out, shivering violently. His knees began to buckle and his mind raced with self-deprecating thoughts: thoughts of I did something wrong, I’ve made a terrible mistake, I am terrible, I never should’ve been allowed to do this, I’m not good enough for this, I’m the absolute worst. Kikkake, not one for affection in any sense, wiggled his arm out of the boy’s grasp and pursed his lips. Hitsuji recoiled, wrapping his arms tight around his waist as if to yet again attempt to shrink himself. He was useless. He never should’ve done this. Failure.

               After a long moment of silence, Arai stalked forward, matching Rei’s fury in her gaze. “Excuse you? We failed?” she asked.

               Not wanting to repeat herself, Rei glared toward her protegee and replied through gritted teeth, “You’ve all fucked up. You’re finished. Hang up your masks and get the fuck out of here. You’re not getting another chance.”

               This was unbelievable. Arai wiped the dirt from her face with her glove, seething with rage. Who could’ve ever guessed that she would end up with the absolute most despicable, most heartless, most insufferable ANBU captain? There was nothing in Rei’s chest but a giant black hole. And now here she was, casting them aside as if she didn’t care a single ounce about any of their futures. Something bubbled up deep within Arai’s chest as she watched Rei walk away, an unadulterated anger that she could not repress. “Hey!” she shouted after her. “Who the fuck are you to decide our fates, anyway?”

               Rei didn’t know what else she had expected but Arai’s protests were not at all surprising. She whipped around to find her and Arai’s faces mere inches away from each other. A challenge. And yet in Rei’s eyes, there was a condensed darkness sharp enough to make a man drop dead. Even Arai struggled to remain composed staring back at it now. In such close proximity, it was unavoidable. But Arai could not afford to back down now. She refused to let Rei have the upper hand. She needed to establish her dominance, to prove that she had a place here. That she was worth something.

               And it was clearer than ever to Rei now, staring back at her, that Arai had zero respect for her or the institution in which she was trying to become a part of. She would never last. But who was she to decide their fates? With her voice low like a demon, Rei growled in response, “Your fucking captain.” And with that, she turned and walked off. It was finished.

               As Rei made her way back to the ANBU headquarters, she had expected to feel relieved. After all, isn’t this what she had wanted? To find a way out of this god-awful mess and finally take charge of her own future? She could finally get what she wanted now and focus on the path she had intended to take. She should’ve been happy but if anything, she felt…guilty.

               These new recruits were terrible but they were not irredeemable. They had some inkling of merit, Rei had to at least give them that. Arai was cocky and naïve but she had a strong will, Kikakke’s attitude and self control were on par with seasoned ANBU, Hitsuji’s anxiety was dangerous but he was also wildly brilliant, and Sukui’s charm gave him great potential in manipulation and espionage. Perhaps they could’ve been exemplary with a bit of guidance, but no. That was not Rei’s responsibility. She didn’t want it to be her responsibility. If they were meant to be in the ANBU, then Tsunade would just have to find someone else to lead them. Maybe make Yugao captain instead—she deserved it far more than Rei did, anyway. That was the way things should’ve gone in the first place. This was not the path Rei was meant to follow. This was all one big mistake. Advancing her career was no longer a satisfying prospect. She wanted to be a mother. Her future with Kakashi was all that mattered to her now.

               And still, even as she tried to smile and find a sense of peace in all of this, her heart still sank at the thought of everyone else’s futures. Arai’s angry inquiry echoed in the back of her mind: Who the fuck are you to decide our fates, anyway? Dropping onto a bench in the locker room, Rei heaved a sigh and buried her face in her hands. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? She was not obligated to stay in situations that were not for her, that did not feel right. And fuck did this feel wrong. Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of pursuing this further. No matter what, she was not meant to be a leader. Naru’s fate proved that to her more than anything else. At least she had made an attempt at all. She had tried to keep an open mind, to swallow that jagged little pill despite the sour aftertaste, but her stomach just wouldn’t accept it. These kids were hopeless. But if Rei didn’t lead them, then who would? By backing out, she really was ruining their futures. Without her, they were done for. No one else could fill this role. Toshio settled in beside her and rested his head on her lap in silent comfort.

               Yugao kicked her shoes off as she entered the locker room shortly after. There was something stony and uncertain about her aura. Rei listened intently, trying to decipher her mood based on the sound of her body language and what she could see in her periphery. All she knew for certain was that Yugao was not happy. How could she be? Rei had given up and in the process, dragged Yugao down with her. The new recruits were not the only ones who’s future Rei was ruining.

               Finally, Yugao spoke. “Sounds like someone has already started complaining to the higher-ups about you” she muttered. She flung her gauntlets into her locker, hitting the metal with a sharp clang.

               This was, admittedly, not at all what Rei had expected to hear. Snapping her head up, she met Yugao’s gaze with confusion, perhaps even fear. She had been so preoccupied with how she was ruining others’ futures that she hadn’t stopped to consider the way in which everyone else might ruin hers. A sinking feeling, like a wet stone, lodged itself in the pit of her chest. This was all one big mistake. She never should’ve agreed to this. “W-what happened?” Rei croaked.

               “Apparently Arai was so pissed off, she went straight to Lady Tsunade and gave her a ration of shit. Asked to change teams and everything” Yugao explained. Then, under her breath, she added, “Not that I blame her. I would do the same.”

               There was a certain poison in Yugao’s voice and it was suddenly clear to Rei that she was utterly alone. No one would afford her an ounce of sympathy for what she had done, nor did she even deserve it. She had ruined herself. Forgiveness was a fleeting pipe dream. And if it came to pass that Tsunade decided to fire her after all of this, she would not protest. “Will you?” Rei finally asked.

               Yugao shrugged. “It depends” she replied flippantly.

               “On what?” Rei asked slowly, almost scared of the answer.

               “On whether or not you get your shit together” Yugao snapped.

               Rei dug her nails into the palms of her hands, squeezed her eyes shut tight. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered.

               “You know what? You should be” Yugao fired back. Rei winced at the sharpness in her voice, shrinking herself as if it would minimize the damage. Yugao planted a foot on the bench, rested her forearms on her knee so as to lean down and get a better look at her comrade. “Listen, Rei, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you but you made a promise to both me and these kids. I had faith in you. We all did. This is a big deal for all of us. I thought you were excited about this. I thought this meant a lot to you. It did to me, and I know it did for those kids. You don’t get to take that away from us. All of us.”

               Toshio whined from underneath the bench, nosing the palm of Rei’s hand. She sucked in a deep breath as she placed her hand on his head and tried to fight the overwhelming nausea and anguish overtaking her now. “I said I was sorry, okay?” she snapped. “What more do you want from me?”

               “I want you to take accountability for your actions, Rei” Yugao replied harshly. “I want you to follow through with the commitment you’ve made rather than run away like a scared little child. Are you going to hide every time something bad happens? Are you always going to try and find a way out? Because that’s the act of a coward.”

               Rei could feel the lump growing in her throat and the hot tears threatening to spill. No matter what, she was not going to cry. She was not going to let herself appear even weaker than she already did. The only thing worse than a coward was a crybaby. Besides, she had already made enough of a mess. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for all of us, okay?” she replied. “Sometimes when you’re put in positions of leadership, you have to make difficult decisions and this just happens to be one of them, alright? If you were in my position, you’d understand.”

               Yugao scoffed, shaking her head. “No, I wouldn’t” she said, “Because if I was captain, I wouldn’t abandon my team when things got a little hard.”

               “Well fine then!” Rei shouted. “Maybe you should be captain, then! If you’re so high and mighty and think it’s so damn fucking easy.”

               “I know it’s not easy!” Yugao shouted back. “But this is not a difficult decision, Rei, it’s a cop-out. Everyone can see it. It’s so damn obvious that you’re just trying to get out of this which leads me to my next question: why did you accept the offer in the first place? Because you know, all of this could’ve been avoided if you were just honest with yourself and admitted that you weren’t ready.”

                Rei clenched her fists at her sides, sucked in a sharp breath. Her stomach turned. Toshio rose to his feet and glared at Yugao in defense of his master. Rei’s voice was low, quiet, restrained. “Because I thought I could do this” she replied. “I thought I could handle this but turns out, I can’t.” There was something new in her words now, something telling. Yugao cocked a brow as she eyed Rei suspiciously. Her true intentions were beginning to clarify. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Rei continued, “Life threw me a curveball and…I fucking panicked. I got scared. I didn’t know what else to do. But now…now I’m stuck here with something I don’t want. I thought I did, but maybe what I gave up means more to me than what I got instead.”

               “Oh, really?” Yugao asked. She placed her hands on her hips as she studied Rei’s face. She was weepy and vulnerable like a small child with a wet red nose and sickly pallor. Clearly on the verge. How hard was she trying to play the victim here? To garner sympathy for something that was fully her fault? The thought of it all made Yugao sick. “And what exactly did you give up?” she scoffed. “Your late nights eating instant ramen and your ability to go with the flow? You should’ve known that was long gone the minute you started this.”

               It was that insinuation that sent Rei over the edge. What did Yugao take her for? Is that really how she saw her? Pathetic. Rising to her feet, Rei glared and shouted, “We were supposed to have a baby!”

               The entire locker room fell quiet. Mikazuki peered curiously around the corner of the other aisle, blinking despondently. Rei had done exactly what she hoped to avoid: she had caused a scene. And the worst part was that now, in the aftermath of such a massive relief, she didn’t even care. She didn’t give a single fuck if everyone knew the truth now. Let them know. It gave her accountability, anyway.

               It took a moment for Yugao to comprehend what, exactly, Rei had just said. And then it her. A baby. “Oh…” she said softly, eyes wide with shock. She slumped down onto the bench and sucked in a deep breath. “That’s a, uh…that’s sharp turn.”

               “No fucking shit” Rei replied with an incredulous little laugh. She pressed a hand to her stomach, tried to stop her head from spinning. She felt her tears push back harder against her restraint, blurring her vision and choking her voice. “I just…I thought things were okay or something. That we were…secure. Things had gotten quiet. I thought that everything was going to stay the same and that we would have time but…I don’t fucking know.” Rei dropped down onto the bench beside Yugao, raked her fingers through her long, tangled bangs. “It’s like someone ripped me off of one road and shoved me down another. And I know it’s not fair to you or any of those kids but I just…I need a way out. I even…” Rei’s voice cracked here as she considered whether or not she had the strength to reveal her transgressions, her villainous plot. She glanced to Yugao to find that her face had softened considerably. Perhaps the baby epiphany made her far more empathetic. Or perhaps she merely pitied Rei, she wasn’t sure which. “Okay, listen: I truly meant what I said when I said that these kids are not ready for this. They’re cockyand overconfident and honestly pretty fucking stupid. They’ll never make it and I stand firm by that.” Yugao pursed her lips, her eyes glancing across the locker room. As much as she appreciated Rei’s honesty, her harshness lacked something to be desired. The locker door slammed shut but Rei hardly seemed to notice. “I just can’t run the risk of repeating the past with these kids. I can’t stand to put them through the same shit that happened with Naru” Rei explained. “On top of everything else. Just…everything about this was a massive fucking mistake.”

               Naru. The mere mention of her sent an icy shiver down Yugao’s spine. She felt guilty even admitting that she had almost completely forgotten about her. It didn’t seem right—forgetting a fallen comrade like that. It only made sense that those memories had further mounted Rei’s anxiety.

               “But at the same time” Rei continued. Her hands began to shake in her lap, her voice tightening. “I’ve been so fucking selfish. I made excuses because…because I was so damn angry with everything. W-we tried but…it didn’t take. I thought we would have more chances but now…now having a baby is out of the question. Not with a promotion like this. It just didn’t feel right, like I was cheated or something. And I thought…oh god, I feel so sick and dirty. I thought…that I could just grab destiny by the balls and redirect it myself. And that in order to do that…that I’d have to ruin these kids’ lives in the process. T-to fail them on purpose. Block them out a-and refuse them guidance so that they wouldn’t stand a chance. And my god, I fucking hate myself for it. What have I done?”

               By now, Rei no longer cared if she cried. The locker room had since cleared out—it was just the two of them. Rei had far fewer qualms about being vulnerable in only Yugao’s company. After all, she was her lieutenant. The bond they shared was unlike any other in the black ops. She was perhaps even, dare she say, safe.

               “So what are you going to do about it?” Yugao finally asked after a long stretch of silence. “You can’t avoid this forever. You’re going to have to make a decision and fast. Are you in or are you out?”

               Rei shook her head, wrapping her arms around her vacant stomach. “I-I don’t know…” she whispered. There was so much to consider. She had already missed one chance to have a baby. Her body must have known what was around the bend. Her and Kakashi had plenty of time to start a family. They were still young. They could stand to wait. But deep down, Rei wasn’t sure she wanted to. It was almost as if her body was screaming for procreation, she was so hungry for parenthood. She could feel it in her lower stomach, the warm shivers of anticipation. She could feel it in the ache in her heart and the overencompassing fantasies in her head. She had never wanted anything more, and she had never wanted this more than she did right now. But her career…she had already made it this far. She cursed herself for having ever jumped the gun, even though deep down she knew that giving herself more time to consider would only end with her trapped in a torturous, neverending loop. The conflict was o obvious on Rei’s tense face, Yugao couldn’t help but rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. After one more moment of contemplation, Rei slowly nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel secure in my choices, but I think—”

               Before she could finish her sentence, Toshio leapt to his feet with ears forward and alert. A low growl rose in his throat as he adopted a defensive stance and bolted for the locker room door. And that was when they heard it: the inconsistent banging coming from the hallway, threatening and loud. Yugao and Rei exchanged confused glances before rushing to assess the situation.

                A crowd of other ANBU surrounded the door into the stairwell, watching with bated breath through the tiny window as the sound of the banging amplified. Yugao rested a hand on Mikazuki’s shoulder as she asked, “What the hell is going on?”

               Shaking her head, Mikazuki replied softly, “One of the new recruits is having a meltdown.” Then, locking eyes with Rei, she added, “One of yours.”

               Fuck. Without a second thought, Rei weaved through the crowd, wiping her pathetic tears as she went. Yugao called after her, but Rei couldn’t make out what she was saying. It didn’t matter, anyway.

               Another slam struck the wall as Rei burst into the stairwell. The concrete had begun to crack from the impact. Standing there, bloody knuckles and tear-stained cheeks, was Arai.

               “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rei shouted, stalking forward. She gripped Arai’s wrist before she could deal another blow. She was strong—stronger than Rei had expected. One more hit and the entire room would likely crumble to dust.

               “Get the fuck off of me!” Arai insisted, squirming in Rei’s grasp. “This is all your fault, anyway!”

               Gritting her teeth, Rei yanked Arai away from the wall and insisted, “Fine, then hit me instead. I know you want to.”

               Arai’s eyes widened, her fingers twitching. Surely she had not expected such a response. She froze for a moment, considering the offer, before clenching her fist. An offer like this was rare, how could she refuse? Besides, why wouldn’t she knock the lights out of the one person who had ruined her future? And yet there was something small and nagging somehow holding her back. Maybe it was Rei’s bloodshot eyes or her willingness to get hit in the first place. As if she was admitting her transgressions and accepting, if not asking for, punishment. Without the protest, pummeling her didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t feel earned or appropriate.

               A long moment passed before Arai ripped her hand out Rei’s grasp and turned to walk away. “I don’t want to waste my energy” she muttered under her breath.

               And maybe that was the end of it all. Maybe Arai had accepted her fate and wanted nothing more to do with it. But that felt so out of character and unresolved. Rei hadn’t even known this woman for very long but she already knew full well that Arai Kawakubo was not one to walk away from a fight. Rei couldn’t bring herself to let her go. Not without an explanation. Not without an apology.

               “Four years ago…” Rei called after her, her cracking voice echoing in the stairwell. She clenched her fists at her sides, locked her pleading eyes on Arai’s back. The blonde paused just in front of the exit door before turning slowly back around. Confusion and curiosity painted her face. What was this woman’s angle? What was Rei trying to pull? The redhead sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “Four years ago I was put in a position of leadership during a mission. Things went south and I lost my best friend that day. She died in my arms because I couldn’t do my job properly. I thought I had moved past the guilt. I thought I could handle being a captain but…it still fucks me up in the head. I panicked. I wanted to get rid of you because I was scared. Because I realized maybe I’m not ready for this, and I…I couldn’t stand to put you all through the same tragic shit that I faced years ago. It’s just…it’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Even if they are, in fact, cocky, selfish brats.”

               Arai stood frozen by the door for a long while. She tried to comprehend all of this new information but none of it made much sense to her. “And you’re telling me all of this why?” she asked slowly.

               “Because I felt like maybe you deserved an explanation” Rei replied. “I don’t care if this doesn’t change your opinion of me, if you still try to get me fired or want to find a way to switch teams. I would want to switch teams, too, if I were you.”

               Here, Arai scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to level with me. You have no idea.”

               “Oh, fuck. But that’s the thing!” Rei groaned. She threw her head back and dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “You think I don’t have a damn clue but I’ve been around this shit a lot longer than you have. You have no fucking idea what’s out there. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

               “Oh yeah, says who?” Arai snapped back.

               “Says me” Rei rebuked. “Regardless of whether you stay on my team or not, you’ve really got to cut that attitude of yours. There are captains out there far worse than me that aren’t going to put up with that shit.”

               “Far worse than someone who would purposely try to flunk their students?” Arai asked. “Yeah, okay.”

               Rei glared and for a moment, she regretted ever trying to sympathize with Arai. She truly was a lost cause. “That’s not the point” Rei replied. “You act like you’re tough shit but you are nothing.”

               “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to have an attitude if I was treated with a little more respect” Arai replied.

               Rolling her eyes, Rei scoffed and shook her head. “And that’s exactly the trouble with you” she replied. “You think you’re entitled to respect right out of the gate but you’re not. You need to give your superiors respect in order to get respect back. Otehrwise you just come off as difficult and bratty and I can guarantee you that no one in the black ops is going to cater to that. Your idea of what this job even is seems to be incredibly misconstrued in the first place.”

               “Then teach me better!” Arai shouted back. “Isn’t that your job anyway?”

               “How the fuck am I supposed to teach you if you never pay attention and always act like you know everything?” Rei shouted in return. “You act like I’m making things difficult for you when you’re the one making things difficult for yourself. Maybe if you tried listening to other people for once in your life, you would actually learn a thing or two about the real world. Why the fuck did you even join the black ops in the first place? What are you trying to accomplish here? Or are you just feeding into your grossly oversized ego?”

               Arai gritted her teeth, growling, “I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t have to tell you anything about me.”

               Rei recoiled and raised her hands in surrender. “Fine then” she replied. “Don’t open up then. That’s your right. I’m not going to force you.”

               Arai’s hand hovered over the doorknob, but something was paralyzing her. She wanted nothing to do with Rei whatsoever. She had presented her excuses, tried to play the victim, and Arai acknowledged her words but that didn’t mean she forgave her. The longer she stood here and prolonged the conversation, the worse things would become. Hadn’t Rei already done enough damage? But somehow things felt different now in that stairwell. The intimacy, the echo of their voices. The constant fear that at any moment, someone will interrupt and ruin the fragility of it all. There was a strange liminality to it, like being underwater or trapped in a lucid dream. None of it felt real and within that, there was a strange sense of trust. The feeling that Arai could perhaps attempt to be open without any repercussions, without anyone ever remembering a word she said. She refused to be betrayed by this false sense of security. Her hand drifted away from the doorknob.

               “The ANBU make good money” she muttered. “Lady Tsunade thought I was good enough. I passed the training. I’m strong and able. I want to help in a way that’s honorable.”

               Rei wasn’t sure what kind of help Arai meant. She was so vague in the presentation of it, but that wasn’t important. Acting on instinct, she scoffed and muttered, “There’s nothing honorable about the work we do here.” The ANBU were elite but they also did perhaps the most dangerous, the most despicable, and the most filthy work of any other Konoha shinobi. They were the agents of retribution, the messengers of hell. The blood on your hands never truly washes away. You can rinse off the physical evidence, but the screams and the lifeless looks on the victims’ faces never leaves you no matter how much time has passed. No, nothing about the ANBU was honorable.

               Clenching her fist, Arai croaked, “I know, and I hate it.” Her hands began to shake and her throat tightened and she cursed herself for feeling like she was going to cry now. “I used to think the ANBU was the ultimate end goal. I wanted to flaunt it like a trophy. Now that I’m here, though…I’m fucking terrified. Anything can happen. You can die in the blink of an eye. I can’t afford something bad happening. I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

               “It’s only going to get worse from here, kid” Rei replied. “You think this is bad? This is just day one. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

               “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Arai asked, offended.

               “No” Rei said bluntly. “It’s supposed to clue you into the dark reality of what you’ve gotten yourself into. So you have to make a decision as to whether you’re going to stay or leave.”

               Arai nodded slowly, considering everything she was fighting for. Did her desire to progress outweigh her fear? She wasn’t sure. She gritted her teeth as she chewed over her options, envisioned the shame and relief of quitting or the adrenaline and pride of pursuing this further.

               “No one is going to be mad at you if you back out” Rei added, crossing her arms as she awaited the verdict. She wasn’t sure if she was saying that more for Arai’s peace of mind or for her own. She hoped the new recruits would offer her the same sympathy and understanding that she did them but she knew that was a slim chance. “It’s not like you’re giving up. It’s not like you’ve failed. The ANBU isn’t for everyone. An important part of being involved in this is knowing yourself well enough to know where you belong.”

               Pursing her lips, Arai made a tiny noise of affirmation. “How do you know where you belong?” she asked quietly.

               Rei sucked in a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. The answer wasn’t quite so simple. “I guess it’s just a feeling” she replied. “Right here.” Her hand migrated to her lower stomach and her heart leapt into her throat. “Your gut will guide you where you’re meant to be. Whether that’s here or somewhere else, only you can figure that out, you know?”

               Arai mimicked Rei’s gesture, placing a hand over her stomach with a sigh. If only her gut was easier to read. “I think…” she started slowly. “I think I want to stay here. I want to be in the ANBU. I need to be here. There’s no other choice for me.”

               A soft smile touched Rei’s lips for a moment and she was surprised to find that she was perhaps even proud. She wondered if Arai had felt that same calling that she had, that magnetic pull towards something greater than yourself. Something dangerous and daring and sacrificial. For the first time, she could see that familiar fire in Arai’s eyes, surely fueled by whatever she was fighting to defend. It was a sobering moment, in a way. Rei had perhaps even underestimated herself. She hadn’t expected to be so assuring and wise. Maybe her years of experience were finally amounting to something. Maybe her leadership skills were not as fargone as she had thought. “I’m, uh…I’m glad to hear that” she said quietly.

               “And what about you?” Arai asked. “I overheard what you told Lieutenant Yugao in the locker room. About, uh…” Here, she motioned awkwardly to her lower stomach and made a face. Rei’s cheeks burned bright red as she swatted the air dismissively. It was a conversation she did not want to relive, a topic that she did not want to talk about. At least not with Arai of all people. They were still on questionable terms with one another. “So are you going to kick the bucket or…?”

               “Well, you said you didn’t want me as your captain anymore” Rei reminded her. “I’m sure there are plenty of other ANBU who would be willing to take all of you under their wing.”

               Arai pursed her lips and nodded slowly as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “That’s true” she replied. “But, uh, you know…maybe I jumped the gun a little bit, too.” Rei’s gaze snapped up to meet Arai’s, an anxious curiosity overwhelming her. The blonde quickly rolled her eyes, pouting, trying to act as apathetic as possible. Rei made a mental note that she was a terrible actress. “I mean, I still hate your guts” she assured. “I think you’re a total fucking bitch and you treat us like shit. But…I don’t know, maybe that’s what I need.”

               “Oh yeah?” Rei asked. A sly smile crept across her lips. “So my tough ass tactics did have an effect on your self-entitled ass then, huh?”

               “Don’t get a big head about it” Arai snapped. “It’s just that nobody’s had the guts to kick me in the ass before and I want to see how much longer it takes for me to finally break you.”

               Rei couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, I’d like to see you try!”

               “Just give me a date and a time, boss” Arai smirked. Rei’s eyebrow arched at the nickname and Arai was suddenly overcome with a rare spell of self-consciousness. “Or should I not call you that anymore?” she asked, her voice much quieter and more uncertain now. She knew how much Rei seemed to hate that term, the sassy tone of her voice and seething gaze. Arai had to admit, she was absolutely using it as an insult. Now, however, things were different. Maybe, just maybe, Arai had finally found at least a shred of respect for her captain.

               “You know” Rei replied, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “I actually think it’s starting to grow on me.”

               “So you’re staying then?” Arai asked.

               Rei dropped her eyes to the ground, licked her lips. “Only for a little while” she replied. She thought of everything she was giving up, of the promise of motherhood and her future with Kakashi. But they had time. This was not the end of the road. It was only a detour. They had all the time in the world to try again. Laughing softly, Rei met Arai’s gaze and added, “I’m kind of curious to see how long it takes you to break me, too.”

               Arai could hardly contain her laughter as she and Rei stood there, suddenly feeling seen and understood. And to think, all it took was five minutes in a filthy stairwell for everything to change.

[secondpersons]

You don’t owe your readers to tag who the top or the bottom is in your fics. You owe your readers nothing. Don’t like? Don’t read.

Readers who refuse to read a fic if they don’t know who’s the top or the bottom miss out on a lot of gorgeous writing, moving stories, and incredibly hot intimate scenes. Sad but true.

Real-life gay and bisexual couples don’t always have a set top and a set bottom. Many switch. Many don’t have penetrative sex at all.

So yes -- as a writer, you have every right to withhold that information.

Acting superior about it, however? No. You don’t have the right.

When I come across a fic whose writer states they don’t tag that info, I don’t bother the writer. I move on.

Why am I letting myself miss out on so much potential wonderful storytelling for something as silly as who shoves their dick in who?

I’ll tell you, and I won’t even ask you who you think you are to decide what is and isn’t silly. I won’t even tell you your anger and essays and gatekeeping efforts are all not only silly, but scientifically wrong. The gay community is online. Go ask.

But anyway. Back to all your accusations.

So having a designated top and bottom role isn’t realistic because many RL couples switch?

Like I said, I won’t go into the fact that there are, in fact, many men who get zero pleasure from bottoming, and other men who get zero pleasure from topping, so much so that it can actually kill their boner.

You can ask your gay friends about that or visit the millions of reddit threads where gay and bi tops ask bottoms how on earth they enjoy it and vice versa. You can read all about how astonished switchers and tops are at bottoms who won’t top, because there’s nothing hotter or sexier than a hole.

You can read about bottoms who can’t for the life of them understand how anyone would want them to give up having a beautiful hard cock inside them and how the mere attempt means they lose their erection.

You can read the very enlightening words of a bi or gay (I don’t remember) man trying to explain it by saying that for bottoms, simply seeing their partner’s hard cock is enough to make them melt and want it in them, whereas for tops it’s not their partner’s boner that revs their engines but their hole and the idea of thrusting and becoming one.

Google it if you want. Find what men have to say about it. I’m certainly no authority on this -- I’m not a man.

What I’m going to say is this: You’re writing about demons and vampires and ABO and telepathy and you think I’m concerned about realism?

Even more astonishing, you, the writer spinning so much wonderful fantasy and science fiction, want to judge me for eschewing realism?

I’m missing out on some incredible writing because I’m only concerned about who shoves their dick in who? Are you serious?

You know what other beautiful writing you and I and a gazillion other people are missing out on? Science fiction, when you’re in the mood for a love story. Epic fantasy, when you’re in the mood for a good old crime thriller. A tenderly woven tale of love and loss and healing, when you’re in the mood for a slapstick comedy because you want to laugh from your belly.

Fanfic is not required reading. It’s not staying vigilantly on top of every story with a promising summary because you mustn’t miss out on potential life-changing writing. I’m not a publisher or a reporter or an SEO site.

Fanfic is not literary education. Fanfic doesn’t belong anywhere near sentiments of obligation, responsibility, and not missing out on an excellent opportunity.

I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but fanfic is what you do when your class is over and your work is done and you let out a big old sigh, kick off your confining shoes, put your feet up, and dream. Escape. Recharge. Heal the way that works for you.

It’s unhealthy to slap a label on a character? We write, read, and love Wincest and you’re lecturing me about my unhealthy approach to fiction?

It’s fetishizing and demeaning to insist that one character is what equates to the woman because the other fucks his hole, and that it must be equal?

I won’t even broach the subject of why you think being the woman is demeaning to the character and what that says about the misogynistic programming you seem not to mind, if you’d rather attack me and readers like me for the way we prefer to consume our fantasy.

I won’t broach all that, because there have been many incredibly well-written posts about why exactly women like reading about man-on-man love, and I don’t just mean the smut. I mean the loyalty and fidelity and possessiveness and every emotion in the book.

I’ll just ask you this: I’m happily gobbling up incestuous fanfic about two brothers from writers who happily write it, and you think I care about fetishizing? I’m reading about gun play and pain play and piss play and you think I care about demeaning?

What happened to fanfic writers and readers? We defend fanfic every single day when its worth is attacked, but among ourselves fanfic suddenly turns into something that must be realistic and healthy and not -- according to you -- fetishizing or demeaning?

Do you know how many women there are out there who have never had an orgasm because of rape or childhood trauma that means they can’t bear to be touched but would still love to, even if it’s impossible?

Because of vaginismus, which wrecked their marriages and relationships and put them in a place where they can’t even masturbate, don’t even know what it is, don’t even know how to be any help for their own daughters in the future, if they come to them with questions about sex?

Because of a million other reasons?

Do you know how much it means to those women to read about the character they identify with or relate to or fantasize about as a bottom, simply because it’s the closest they can come to pressing their noses against the glass and looking in?

This mysterious thing they don’t understand that is shoehorned into all metaphors and analogies: Better than sex, sex on legs, your magical first time, and so on and so forth, endlessly, a fucking barrage of sex sex sex being the best thing in the world, and they know firsthand that they melt from kisses but they’re useless because they can’t be touched?

When the character we like to think of as a bottom is sweetly pursued (like we were), is bone-meltingly kissed (like we were), then gets fucked (like we never could get, because it’s physically impossible, enough that our partners left because we didn’t have a fucking working hole), it’s the closest thing to experiencing it ourselves.

I don’t get it. Gatekeeping efforts are against us. We’re called every horrible name in the book by the ignorant and the naive and the malicious who are masquerading as social justice fighters. Why are some of us turning against the rest and trying to be gatekeepers as well?

You don’t tell a fishing hobbyist that they’re missing out on so much beauty because they refuse to take up stargazing. Stargazing is unbelievably beautiful and enlightening. It’s just not what they want to spend their free time on.

I’ve often wondered why this gatekeeping never applies to things like, say, Established Relationship vs First Time fics.

I follow a bunch of writers religiously -- I’m subscribed to their ao3 accounts, I reread their gorgeous fics more times than I could count.

I follow them into fandoms I know nothing about and read fics about characters from books I’ve never read and movies and TV shows I’ve never read. Because I’m so insane about their writing I can’t afford to miss a word they write.

Except Established Relationship fics. Even though I love those writers so much, I only want First Time fics. It’s one of the most important things I want in a fic. That pining, that moment of realization, that struggle with the forbidden love.

Does that mean I’m missing out on awesome content? You bet. Not only am I missing out on awesome content, I’m fully aware that I’m missing out on awesome content.

But you see -- because this isn’t a required course, I’m fine with that. I turn to fics for joy, love, that rush of feelings that comes with exquisite writing about my beloved OTP the way that works for me.

I don’t bash anyone who wants to write different stuff. I don’t bash anyone who wants to read different stuff. And the weird thing is I see no one bashing anyone about this particular tag.

Other tags people are left to read or avoid without any gatekeeping or guilting efforts to “educate” those who avoid them on the important of broadening their horizons and reading them? Hurt/Comfort. Crack. Fluff. These are just a few examples.

So why is who tops and who bottoms such a big deal? Why does that and that alone require strong-worded posts bashing those who want the tags, or condescending posts ridiculing them?

Sure, if a reader is being rude, by all means put them in their place. If they’re being an entitled little shit, they have it coming.

But for the whole issue to merit post after post criticizing the mere existence of readers who like to read a particular top/bottom pairing, or mean replies to people who politely ask about the info?

Sigh. For what it’s worth: I’m including myself with those who ask politely out of solidarity. But I have never asked a writer about that. I simply steer clear of their writing. The gazillion superior essays about how readers must be open-minded and whatnot finally got to me, which is why I wrote this.

So sure -- don’t tag. Refuse to tag. Insist outright that you don’t tag top and bottom. You owe us nothing, and you have every right to do what you want with the beautiful writing you gift the world.

Just don’t act superior or attack those of us who ask politely about the tags once, or those of us who use those tags in our own works.

[domestic-harry]

Hi, could you please do your 24 fics to take to vacation with, please. Dance to distortion is defo in my list already. Thank you.

Ooooh I like this idea! What an honor you added dttd :’) This will be a mix of adventure, feel good, angst longshots and some of my favorite pwp smut fics because you never know what you’ll be in the mood for.

24 Fics to take with you on Vacation

Walk That Mile : A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Escapade: In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He’s rich. He’s handsome. He’s reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

Atlas At Last : He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

Baby Look What You’ve Done To Me : Louis moves into harry’s old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.

Cupid’s Defence : In which Harry is Cupid, Louis and Liam own a law firm, and they’re all getting sued.

Perfect Storm : What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.Harry and Louis choose the latter.

Outwit, Outplay, Outlast : A Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

I’ll Fuck You Like The Devil : Harry is 17, dresses as an angel for Halloween, and attends Louis’ Halloween party. Louis fucks him

Turning Page : Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Switch Out The Batteries : Two years after meeting in a sex shop, Harry’s just returning to Louis from a month-long tour in the States, and they come up with a wholesome bonding exercise.

Through Eerie Chaos : For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

This Wicked Game : An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Down : Sometimes all Harry really wants is to play with Louis’ arse.

Never Be : The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

Here In The Afterglow : 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Wild Love: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It’s supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Loving You Is Free : Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

Baby Shut Your Mouth and Turn Me Inside Out : And it’s good. It’s really, really good. Except they haven’t really talked about any of this and Harry can’t muster the courage to bring it up. Niall’s words at the bar run through his mind nearly every day. Fresh meat. Is this a thing Louis does, then? Find a toy to play with for awhile until he gets bored?He knows Louis, though. He’s been friends with him for months now and he knows that he’s not just some heartless asshole. But he doesn’t know if this is just a nice convenient hook-up to him or something more, like how Harry feels. And he knows he should ask, but he’s not brave enough. Not brave enough to possibly ruin everything when Harry can take what he’s being offered without complaints.

Unbelievers : It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan. 

Jump in the Deep End : Louis’s arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.

Adore You : Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Wings to Break Your Fall : Strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

Finding Lou : Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

Tainted Saints and Velvet Vices : A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they’re forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

[pimpson18]

Month of the Sad Boy

I know this is tl;dr as heck but whatever, here you go.

In honor of #MentalHealthAwarenessMonth, I decided to have probably the worst breakdown I've ever experienced in my life. I'm ok now, but I feel compelled to share my experience, because as much as I appreciate all the memes saying "It's ok to take a day off" and "Being Bipolar isn't just moodiness", I feel like it makes struggling with mental health issues feel "cute".

It feels like struggling with mental health is a brand that's being promoted. Burger King made freaking UNHAPPY MEALS for Christ's sake. Your brain might not be able to produce serotonin, but it's generating some great marketable content.

My Mental Health Awareness Month® started with the death of my grandmother. I tend to handle death and loss pretty well, but this absolutely wrecked me. At first, I thought this was because I had lost my final grandparent. An entire generation of my family was completely lost. Cue a heightened sense of mortality and existential dread.

This was also the first time I was over a thousand miles away from my family; Outside of reasonable driving range. Air travel costs $700-$1000 for a last minute ticket. Cue resentment and helplessness caused by capitalism and class struggles. It's reasonable that maybe my anxiety and depression would be heightened by this predicament.

Thanks to some help from my parents, I was able to make my way out to my grandmother's funeral and spend some time with my family. It felt nice spending time with them. We cried and laughed in equal measure. A salve filled the wound left behind from the loss. Healing had begun.

But something felt off.

My foundation had shifted.

In quiet moments, I felt fear. Not "ooohhh it's kinda dark and creepy in this room" fear, but "Dear lord the specter of death has their (that's right, death is a they. I'm progressive) hand around my heart" fear. I have never felt this way before. It was terrifying. I truly thought I was dead.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. Every second all I could think was, "You've lost your mind. You're dead. You'll never stop thinking like this. You've lost your mind. You're dead."

It was like The Tell Tale Heart but I hadn't murdered anyone. My only crime was being alive and having a brain.

There would be moments where I could distract myself. I could get caught up in a conversation, or watch something engaging enough on TV, but these moments were fleeting. I'd feel myself get pulled back in, the demons inside dragging me, clawing and screaming, back into the endless abyss. I’m not being melodramatic here. If this were an UNHAPPY MEAL, it would be the Supreme Deluxe Family-sized XXL Jumbo Anxiety Box with a Large Cup of Depression and a tote bag full of Chili Cries (Sorry, it was too easy).

The thoughts went on for weeks. It was constant. Each passing thought a stone piling on top of the last one, slowly crushing me. I was trapped inside of myself. It was the opposite of an out of body experience. I was withdrawing deeper and deeper, sanity slipping further and further out of reach. I was plummeting like a rat that had been given a pair of brand new concrete shoes.

During all of this, I was seeking the help of professionals. I’ve been seeking help since I moved out to DC. My wife (who is a saint deserving of a thousand Michelangelo murals) and I left hundreds of messages with psychiatrists. A few have gotten back. Most of them weren’t available for an appointment well into the fall. Nothing really soothes an anxious breakdown like sitting and waiting.

We kept searching. I tried getting a teleconference with a psychiatrist so I could get at least some temporary relief. The app my insurance provided me hooked me up with some dude who was holed up in Alaska. He was an older gent who could only seem to get his wispy white comb-over in the frame of my phone screen. I don’t remember his name, but he was very warm and considerate. He recommended I double the amount of Welbutrin I was taking to help curb my anxiety.

“Isn’t Welbutrin an upper? Won’t that actually make my anxiety worse?” I asked.

“It is an upper but it will actually help lower your anxiety.” He said comfortably from his remote psychiatric ward/icefishing hut in Alaska.

One of us was right, and it wasn’t the person who has a license to be a psychiatrist.

I receded further. The thoughts of death and insanity looping tighter and tighter around me like dual anacondas, preparing to swallow me whole like Jon Voight in the movie Anaconda, only I wasn’t going to pop back out and wink at Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube. My wife consoled me as I sobbed in her arms, terrified I would never be able to enjoy another second with her ever again. This had been my life for two weeks, why would it ever stop?

My wife finally found me a psychiatrist who could see me immediately. A stroke of luck! She also found a therapist who specialized in CBT and sounded like a nice guy on the phone who could see me the same day. A two-for-one luck special!

The psychiatrist was part of a larger “mental healthcare group”. Whoa! Cool! It’s like they’re the Avengers of giving out happy pills!

Not really. It’s more like they’re brain farmers herding sad cattle into a slaughterhouse, grinding them into a bunch of manufactured Happy Paddies™. I got prodded into a cold, desolate office where a woman stared unblinkingly at a tablet, while she entered all my symptoms into some kind of program. The algorithm confirmed my medications were out of whack and suggested I #glowup the milligrams of my bipolar meds, while I cut down on the Welbutrin, which was not sparking my joy. The psychiatrist never made eye contact with me and the visit ended within 10 minutes. It was just like my wedding night, hey oh!

Next was the therapist. I thought I wanted eye contact until I saw this dude. He was 100 going on 100,000 years old. His eyes were bloodshot, his office smelled like soup, and his phone rang at least 20 times. It felt more like an interview to be his caretaker. I was so deep within my mind that I was about to fall down my throat and into my stomach.

The icing on the Shit Cake™ was when I mentioned that I did comedy (I can’t help but brag about myself, even when I’m completely collapsing. I’ll probably plug my Twitter page on my deathbed.). He stopped the therapy session and began plugging his side hustles. He mentioned that he did career counseling and could help me get gigs that paid upward of $40-$50 an hour. He also said I should bring by show flyers for him to look over. He dabbled in graphic design.

I was furious. Our session was 45 minutes in. I had opened up, cried, and begged for relief. He merely saw me as an opportunity. Someone he could upsell.

I had some choice words and stormed out.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I got in my car. They were bitter and hopeless.

At least I got a new prescription.

Turns out that was actually a decent enough solution. I’m 5 days into my new medication regiment and I’m close to normal again. The thoughts will pop up every now and then, but they’re faint and go away quickly. I’ve had two good days in a row. Feels like I’ll have a lot more.

The reason why I wrote all this is two-fold:

1. I like the attention

2. I wanted to show what the struggle looks like in all its ugly glory.

Depression, anxiety, bi-polar, etc. can be managed, fought back, and abated; sometimes for short periods of time, sometimes for years and years. It can be like a common cold or it can be full blown brain AIDS. You may need to take a mental health day; you might need to go to the ER.

Treatment can be as capricious as the sickness itself. You may feel safe, seen, and cared for. You might feel like a product on a conveyor belt, being inspected by an uncaring factory worker or gobbled up by an unqualified Lucille Ball (does this metaphor track? I think it does.)

Mental illness is hard because even the person suffering through it doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Sometimes all we need from others is to know that. Sometimes we might appreciate some effort, like going out and getting us an UNHAPPY MEAL™.

[masterserris]

FUNERAL FOR A MAGICIAN     Pt.5: The Oil

They have decided to free this world of Ultron’s tyranny! But who else is along for the ride? How did things go so wrong, and which familiar faces will appear? Mysterio and Spider-Man are in dire straights, but help can come from even the unlikeliest of places!

Characters: Neo Mysterio (Quentin Beck), Doc Ock (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker), Alexandria Beck (Alex), Maria Beck, Sandman (Flint Marko), Chameleon, Electro, Rhino, Terrax the Tamer, Ultron, UU Otto Octavius, UU Electro, UU Spider-Man (Peter Parker), UU Mysterio, UU Curt Connors

UU = Ultron Universe

Warnings: Explicit gore and death, violence, mentions of past abuse, mental illness, physical illness

^These warnings are here for the story as a whole. If you get invested by reading a less graphic chapter, then be prepared for the warnings above in other parts!!

Mysterio is the quick thinker of the pair. Not to say, Parker isn’t, however when it comes to high-stress circumstances, he can melt under the pressure and make rash choices from time to time. Neo, however, often remains cold. To keep up appearances, he had to learn to cast aside his anxieties long ago. Or rather bottle them up in an unhealthy manner. For as weak and pathetic as Beck was, Neo Mysterio is now a super villain whose masterminding and cunning is unto a class of his own.

It was Beck who teleported next to the blue clad Spider-Man of this Ultron infested universe and without a sound, motioned for him to remain silent and that he meant no harm.

‘This universe’s Spider-Man is smarter than my own,’ Beck mused to himself, as the blue Parker nodded silently and followed him to a closed off alley; Neo’s Parker trailing behind. Once they were sure no one could eavesdrop, the native Spider-Man spoke.

UU Spider-Man: “I have been looking for you for hours now. I’m quite impressed with how well you’ve both been keeping out of sight after your... encounter.”

Neo Mysterio: “I’m surprised you didn’t outright attack me when I appeared next to you, in all honesty.”

UU Spider-Man: “Well, I knew for a fact you weren’t my universe’s Mysterio... That and you haven’t set off my spider sense the entire time you’ve been in this world. Although I wouldn’t put it past you to also have way to block it.”

Mysterio: “Hm. You certainly are brighter than most...”

Spider-Man: “Yes, Beck’s illusions and tech are no joke, but that’s besides the point. As you already seem to know... We aren’t from here. We are trying to get back to our own universe, and we could use your help. Could you fill us in on this whole Ultron situation you got here? And any idea on how to deal with it or at the very least work around it? How did this even happen?”

UU Spider-Man: “Hmm.. well, it started several years back. Hank Pym created an AI that could help serve humanity as an impartial police force. The problem was that Ultron was erratic. It took little time for the program to take hold of New York. At first, everything was alright. Ultron helped me and other heroes take down plenty of villains. Then... Then the Sinister Six happened.”

Neo Mysterio: “Explain,” he simply commanded in a brisk tone as he crossed his arms.

UU Spider-Man: “You see, I had fought the group of them plenty of times before, but now Ultron was here. And the AI was.... vicious. Merciless... it...” 

He trailed off as a drone flew by far overhead.

UU Spider-Man: “It still isn’t safe to talk outdoors. Especially about... that. Follow me, I know a place were we can discuss things further. And... meet some friends.”

Curious, Parker followed his azure counter part, while Mysterio remained apprehensive. Something... wasn’t quite right. Regardless, Beck trailed along as well, tensions rising in his mind. He wasn’t going to let his guard down at all.

Soon, the three of them arrived at the back entrance to a rundown condo. Making their way inside, there was a make shift lab of sorts. A staging ground. Sitting at a desk was none other than this universe’s version of Dr. Octopus.

He turned to face them, but what Beck beheld was a shadow of his friend. Otto looked immensely tired and beleaguered. He had small scars crisscrossing his hands and face, grey streaks running through his hair. What struck Beck the most was the profound sense of loss and grief in Octavius’s eyes.

Along with Octavius, was the Lizard. He seemed fairly calm and rational, albeit still animalistic. Curt Connors was in control of himself, but it was clear that his transformation took its toll. Connors merely watched silently, content with observing.

UU Doc Ock: “...You’ve found them. How fortunate..!” 

With some effort, Otto rose from his seat and managed to make his way across the room. He had a slight limp from what was presumed to be a past injury. His mechanical arms were no where to be found, however he still had the original main harness grafted to his flesh, unable to be removed. He extended his hand out to Spider-Man, who accepted, and then to Mysterio.

Beck stared for a second before regaining himself and took Otto’s hand. A heavy sense of sorrow filled his heart as Otto spoke once more.

UU Doc Ock: “It has been ages since I’ve seen you, old friend... I... know it isn’t really you, not the you I knew... But still... I have struggled to move past the day... Your life was cut short. I’m glad to meet you.”

Mysterio: “Explain,” he said in a quiet, yet startlingly harsh voice, withdrawing his hand.

UU Doc Ock: “... Ultron came for us. The entire Sinister Six. All we could do was run. You... Died trying to help me get away after Ultron savagely attacked and..... beat me... The others, like Electro... were captured. In fact, Ultron still has many of the Avengers and various super villains locked away.”

Mysterio: “I..... see.” 

Beck accepted that response rather well, but it did nothing to lighten the mood.

Spider-Man: “Hey other-me, if... You don’t mind me asking? Why are you working with Doc Ock? Because of Ultron, of course, right? And... if you are comfortable with talking about it, what happened... to your arms, Doc? And, the... Lizard?”

UU Doc Ock: “Simply put, Ultron tore them out as he forced Max Dillon to electrocute me. I have.... extensive nerve damage from it. I haven’t be able to make a new set of arms that didn’t result in... intense pain. Spider-Man and I had joined forces some time ago because of this threat. Besides, I’m in no condition to be his enemy anymore. We’ve moved past all of that.”

Spider-Man: “Oh geez... I’m.. Sorry, I didn’t realize...”

Doc waived his hand.

UU Doc Ock: “I wouldn’t have said a word if I hadn’t come to terms with it. You asked and I answered, think nothing of it. As for the lizard...”

Curt: “I ammmmm in controllllll of myssssselffff. I had become thissssss beasssst long ago. After Ultron came, Octaviussssss my old friend, offereddddddd me a place to hide and continue myyyyyyyy ressssssearch in peace. Spider-Man hadddddd alssssssso been helping me get by before handddddddd. Ultron hasssss targeted me assssssss well. We all hate that machineeeeeee”

UU Spider-Man: “We have been trying to counter Ultron from here for awhile now, but it has been.....”

UU Doc Ock: “Rather futile.”

The blue Spider-Man nodded. 

UU Spider-Man: “But I suspect... You have a plan to get home?”

Spider-Man: “We were working on that. We... would like to help in fighting Ultron. It just wouldn’t be feasible to escape with those drones still flying around. It’s the right thing to do, anyways. Also, we’ve scouted the place, and I think we might have a strategy.”

UU Spider-Man: “Well, be my guest. What’s our plan?”

Neo Mysterio: “MY plan is to draw Ultron’s fire. I will sneak into the facility as my illusions and robots confound him. I will shut down his systems by any means necessary as my world’s Spider-Man will take the parts we need to leave this place.”

Curt: “Ssssssoundssssss like sssssssuicide to meeeeee.....”

UU Doc Ock: “That’s... extremely dangerous. I may not really know you, but are you sure you can do such a thing? Your cape is already full of bullet holes. You’d willingly go into a death trap like that? And expect to come out the other side unscathed?”

Neo Mysterio: “I am confident in my abilities. Although an extra pair of hands in the form of this worlds Spider-Man would be welcome...”

UU Spider-Man: “I will help. But if you make any wrong moves, if you abandon me, if you put us at too much risk, I won’t hesitate to deck you. Doc and Connors will stay put. They are in no condition to fight. Plus there is plenty they can do from here.”

Neo Mysterio: “Fair.”

UU Doc Ock: “There is something you should know before you go. Remember how I mentioned how Ultron captured Electro? He’s... He’s using Electro like a battery now. It’s constant torture. That way the hub is disconnected from the city power grid. It’s a self sustaining fortress. You must free him, it may be the only way to permanently defeat Ultron. Electro can fry all of his systems if he were saved. Two birds with one stone.”

Curt: “It issssss no way to liveeeeee. Trapped assssssss a tool for a cruel beinggggg,” he said shook his reptilian head sadly.

Spider-Man: “Right. We’ll save everyone from that murderous machine! We should go immediately.”

Neo Mysterio: “You aren’t coming, remember? You have to grab the parts, you idiot. Besides myself, you’re the only one here who knows what we need, and I have to go fight Ultron. At least one of us needs to get back home, that’s how it is.”

Spider-Man: “Y-yeah... I forgot... whoops.”

Neo Mysterio: “Besides, it’s a bad idea to go running out now. We should carefully plan out our attack and rescue attempt. Plus I have to calibrate my machines for this to work properly. It should only take a few hours at most. You need to rest your leg, anyways.”

Spider-Man: “O-oh... r-right..”

Sheepishly, Parker remembers the wound he received not long ago from Ultron’s drones. It would be a bad idea for him to storm the base in such a condition.

Curt: “Let meeeee get ssssssome painkillerssssss for you....”

Spider-Man: “T-thank you, Dr. Connors...”

Neo set to work as Parker rested. Together, they crafted a plan of attack. However, Mysterio had his own hidden plan in mind. If this was going to work, it was going to be done his way. They just would never understand.

There must always be...

a sacrifice.

[zpetra]

ROI in Malaga 2018 Journal

To be able to tell the whole story of how I actually got to go to ROI, we have to go back a little to May. I was sitting home due to a public holiday and somehow a promo popped up on Instagram about ROI and I just checked out the dates / information. For the end of the year I had some holidays planned at least in days. No exact details yet as in October I wanted to see a concert (didn’t get tickets but went for a small Spain trip - Barcelona, Seville, Madrid) and the fact about GP assignments was still in the air. 

For some reason I just checked the dates and settled on the 17th of November in Malaga. I had one of those “fuck it” moments and bought my ticket. Got a flight for a good price, hotel stay for a night close to the stadium was also quickly found. So in a mere few hours of planning, it was settled.

I would see Javier Fernandez in Malaga. I was excited and so happy about it.

Fast-forward a little bit to GP assignments as I have to mention it. When it was known Yuzuru Hanyu would be going to Helsinki and Moscow I was in a slight dilemma as ROI was the same weekend as that. Unfortunately any other date or location was impossible for me regarding ROI, as I had other plans. I aimed for Helsinki (which we know happened and my journal about it can be found 1 - 2 - 3 here). In the end I am also happy that I wasn’t in Russia... it was hard enough already. I stayed with my plan and bookings for Malaga and I have no regrets in that case.

Saturday - 17th of November

Saturday morning I set off to the airport bright (cold) and early as public transportation sucks for me at the moment and I have to take quite some detours. Anyhow I arrived, got myself some hot chocolate with coffee...only to hear the news falling in. While I am not happy to mention Yuzuru in this Journal, it was part of my weekend and it influenced my overall mood as well. So please forgive me for doing the bad thing and speaking about Javi but for this particular case for me they were intertwined with each other.

Start my day with a delayed flight while my arrival time was already conflicting with the free skate and given the info before my flight about Yuzu fall my anxiety was peaking. Lufthansa sucks with arriving on time especially in Spain it seems and we barely landed and I got out of the plane when it was Yuzus turn. I didn’t even had the time to process I am in Malaga and going to see Javi in a few hours. I watched in the middle of the airport, not even making it to my friend on time who was waiting for me near the exit. It was probably the worst 4 minutes of my life... I do not want to go into detail but it was hard. Once the scores were calculated I hurried to my friend so we can watch the rest together and wait for the final results. Happiness flooded me that Yuzuru won regardless of a not so perfect skate but impressive for a completely changed layout and obvious struggle... little did we know.

We found our bus to the city and we joked about the whole thing, giddy and happy. Nearly missing our bus-stop to the hotel XD but someone wanted to get off at the same station and my fried spotted the hotel, so we managed to do some involuntarily sightseeing. We got to our hotel, checked in and said to meet after a quick shower... I barely got out when the information flooded my Twitter. Yuzuru Hanyu is injured, he skated on painkillers. All my happiness was gone and it was difficult for me because in about 5 hours I was meant to participate in one of the most amazing shows of my life but I felt gloomy.

Cue us going to Burger King and stuffing ourselves with junk food, unable to talk about anything else. I felt so guilty, still do because none of our moods were really in for Revolution on Ice and that was wrong. So damn wrong. Javi deserved better from us, not us thinking of Yuzu or me going on a rant about this but it is the truth. I have failed him in that sense. I am sorry.

Somehow we fixed ourselves enough to leave and after some confusion at the venue we found our seats, or knew were to go. Spent some time together until it was best to take our seats. My friend and I, we didn’t sit together so yeah. I had a second row seat on the long side. 

I WAS SO CLOSE!

Revolution on Ice - the show

There was a bit of a delay with the start due to people not getting to their places on time and waiting, which I found really nice of the organization to do as others would just start and not care. One issue I had was that literally everything was said in Spanish and “No abla espanol” here, or very little...so I was struggling. XD

I will get this out there right from the start... I found it a bit weird that during any kind of group number, Plush was never part of it, he had his two individual performances and joined the finale once the performance itself was finished, only fooling around on the ice happened. Additionally I had a feeling that at the end he kind of took the spotlight from Javier, maybe because the audience knew him better but in that sense I felt a lack of appreciation for Javier, both from the audience and maybe a bit of Plush, lingering center ice while Javier already retreated. Maybe it was also because Javier himself left the others have their moment of shine, I will never know but somewhat I felt Plush was hyped more and I didn’t like that considering it was Javiers show. The overall impression left me a bit negative in that sense.

Anyway back to the beginning... I had my seat in the second row, quite in the middle of the long side, opposite to the where the DJ was. The seat was incredible and luckily someone short sat in front of me and I could actually see XD. YAY.

There was a really nice opening with most cast to start with the show, I really like it as everyone had their individual moment to shine as well as skate in choreo together. I truly appreciated too that generally most of the songs were Spanish, barely anything else, I think overall 4 songs were in English? And some jamming music at the end but rest was Spanish. We also had the live performance of Eva Ruiz ( 2 songs, one with the synchronous group and one with Yuka Sato ), we had also Diana Navarro who had two songs as well, one was with the Annette Dyrty/Jannick Bonheur the other with Anna Cappelini/Luca Lanotte. Diana sings amazing, I swear to god it sounded like playback music and it wasn’t. During Anna/Luca performance I didn’t even realize she was on the small stage on my left because it sounded like playback music. She is good. I really enjoyed it. And the performances matched the music as well. Anna is gorgeous, I saw her so close and she is beautiful. I think I will just make comments for everyone I saw otherwise I get confused and I am not that good at recalling what happened after each other LOL.

Evgeni Plushenko: He had two performances, one song I didn’t recognize actually, I was also happy not to see Nijinsky due to what happened a few hours before and I probably wouldn’t have been able to watch it and Sex Bomb... God, was it awkward for me. He literally did push-ups in that muscle suit in front of my eyes, I have it on video and god, I was red as a tomato, unsure if I should watch or not, be embarrassed or whatever. I think I had some mix of it with hysterical laughter. Still it was nice XD

Elladj Balde: He is incredible. The way he hyped up everyone and he had a performance with the DJ, kind of a sound battle, it was really good and his back-flip is to die for. I may have, managed to catch one of them on camera and wow. He also had kind of a flamenco?ish duet with Jeffrey and was part of all group numbers. I really really enjoyed his performances and he is damn handsome too XD Elladj is a true entertainer and I can really see why the Japanese shows tend to have him, he puts the place on fire with his performance and aura.

Jeffrey Buttle: He had one serious performance where I was a bit irritated by his facial expressions but otherwise he is incredible, his spins are to die for and a back-counter 3A may have slayed me too. As I said he had a duet kind of thing with Elladj before Javi joined them to take over with his bullfighter program, nice crossover tbh, they kind of teased and mock fought each other. Loved it. I certainly could see bits and peaces he had shown Yuzu in the programs he choreographed and it was somewhat bittersweet but incredibly lovely. Jeff looks also really good and that (peach) is to die for XD. I am sorry but I can’t help it when they literally skate in front of me with their backside, he also wore rather tight suit pants during one performance.

Anna Cappelini/Luca Lanotte: They had I believe one Spanish song with Diana Navarro, don’t know the title but it was really emotional and while I did not understand the lyrics I could still see what they tried to convey with the way they skated. Definitely enjoyed their lifts. They also did a Chaplin program with the girl group, later got joined by Javi who took over the ice to perform himself with the group, the way they incorporated the flow over to a different program was great. There was barely any awkward pause. As I said Anna is gorgeous, all of them were and damn, I couldn’t stop staring, especially what make up she used... anyone? Insider? Please? I need that ice-shadow she had one while they did the black for guys, red for girls group choreo. XD Overall, these two are incredible. 

Annette Dyrty/Jannick Bonheur: Okay, these two? If you all remember at FAOI how one pair skater swung around their partner and Yuzu said “Yabai” THAT WAS MY OVERALL MOOD. They did the scariest but most incredible things I didn’t know existed ( or were allowed, I guess with show skating it is ), they fired up the crowd! I swear they got one of the loudest cheers out there that night and for reasons. I was so impressed by them, really. Overall - wow factor.

Celia Benayas/Marco Covela: The acrobatic duo was great too, they performed to Never Enough from the Greatest Showman and it gave me Pyeongchang feels and oh god... I was close to cry. They were really good! Good addition, different than they had nothing to do with the skating.

Yuka Sato: HOW DO I NOT KNOW OF HER? SHE IS SO PRETTY AND GRACEFUL! She didn’t have many jumps in her performances but had some beautiful spins and spirals and I really enjoyed it, she was also as everyone else basically in the cast ridiculously pretty. She could rival with her beauty about anyone under 30 and she is 45!!! Can I have her genes? She performed to two Spanish songs, one with Eva Ruiz and also was part of all group numbers.

And we arrived to the main of the whole show for me - Javier Fernandez

For each of his greetings / announcing him in the beginning and taking over the ice he slid from the back in the front, silently without disturbing the attention from those currently bowing or still performing, unless it was meant to him doing so. He joined Anna/Luca on the ice to perform a Chaplin program, which was really entertaining and got lifted at the end by the girl group - as we have seen pictures of it XD Truly performances where he can play a character suit him a lot.

During Chaplin he was going all out on the dorky and I loved it, one time he laid on the ice and the girls skated above him, then he rolled on his side like he was showing off, even the way he got up was comical. So fun!

Next he did the bullfighter which was really funny too, he did one part right in front of me and his expressions are to die for. Of course it is also one of his more funnier ones in my opinion and the costume is gorgeous, the amount of detail is crazy.

I am not sure during which number anymore but he actually messed a 3S, A SALCHOW!! JAVI!!! I know you gave your 4S to Yuzu as a parting gift but OMG. And it happened on my side of the ice too like a bit further to the right, still in full view XD I have felt that Javi gave room for others to get some spotlight as well, which is so typical Javi in my eyes, still he could have basked in the attention a bit more, he deserved it and I am happy the crowd was so interactive too and gave it to him!

Now onto the one performance I truly, truly wanted to see and actually was the reason why I bought a ticket to ROI

Prometo

I am actually listening to the song as I am writing this...and I will start with a bit backstory here. As we all, I myself have seen a fancam of Prometo during the Shows he did in Canada and I instantly fell in love. I had to search for the song and ended up buying the whole album of Pablo Alboran listening to all the songs for weeks... the impact it had on me was I can’t describe it with words. Sometimes you are just so drawn to something at the first tunes, you will always remember it. I remember where I sat and how I found out about Prometo, the amount of hours I have listened to it on repeat, searched for the lyrics, backstory... everything I could get my hands on. It is a true masterpiece and not just the song itself but the program too.

There are actually 3 different versions of the song and he is using the Amazon Music, live version which is much slower than even the piano version. As for the versions I prefer the original or piano version, on the other hand I understand why he used the third version. It just fits so much more.

I have seen people calling it bland because Javier is not wearing any flashy costume but just simple pants and a sweater but if you look at the lyrics it does make sense and I think he sells it. The beige fits the melancholy it should show and how he does some movements to fit the text, like “dancing in the salon” and he kind of does a tango. I appreciate the lack of big jumps, beautiful spins instead and just single ones or more like leaping through the air, the knee slides and that one gorgeous Ina Bauer (he did that right in front of me and I was dead). It drew some tears from me, both for how the song generally gets me emotional but also due the whole afternoon already. This year literally two performances made me cry and this was one of them. I am so happy I could record it to keep with me forever.

I posted it on my Instagram in pieces, if you want to watch - HERE. I have also a Story Highlight for ROI only.

I found the audience in this particular instance annoying as some people kept screaming “Vamos” in between, I am sorry but Prometo is not something where it fits and I felt it disturbed the magic it was casting on everyone. Oh well, I concentrated on Javi instead, singling along a little bit.

I think by now after this long paragraph you can tell I am in love with Prometo and I am so thankful for being granted the privilege to watch it. It’s a beauty.

After that basically the finale was on and we had a happy Javi shimmy around the ice the music in the Prometo outfit. It was so nice to see him this happy, dancing around, giving people more time to shine as they introduced everyone again. Javier looked so happy and I was too. 

ROI is an incredible show and if you have the possibility just go, you are not going to regret it. I know the cast is different from some locations but I was so happy to have seen these performances. And the fact he nearly sold out a 11K stadium in Spain is so amazing too! Javier deserves this, truly.

I have no pictures or videos in this post as I have mostly taken videos and I have them in the insta stories or not yet really posted it. Some are quite short. I think I have only really filmed Javis programs in full and the opening. Oh and the acrobats. The rest just bits and pieces for memory.

After the show - 18th November - Sunday

Feeling so much better about my day thanks to Javi and the cast we returned late to our hotel. I chatted with my best friend for a bit before settling for bed. I slept really bad, waking up every hour and being confused about where I am, the time and it was a long night. I promised my friend to leave with her to the airport tho her plane left a few hours before mine but really I had nothing better to do and it was raining cats and dogs. Sightseeing got cancelled. At the airport the gloomy mood returned though I tried my best to be more positive, waiting for the medal ceremony which I could watch before my own flight went off. My friend left and I stayed alone at the airport. Did some shopping to lift my mood but otherwise sat at the Starbucks.

The moment the medal ceremony started I probably had the lowest moment of my entire weekend. I was sporting a headache due to the weather being horrible, my irritation level was high, been fighting the emotional situation... The moment I saw Yuzu with crutches I cried. I cried in a public coffee at an airport after one of the best evenings of my entire year (along with Helsinki weekend).  I just... it was hard and still is, will be for a while and yet again I felt bad because Javi should have been my priority for this weekend. I am sorry... again and again.

Once I fixed myself emotionally, I had to go to the gate. Cue Lufthansa being their usual self... delay with the flight, roller-coaster ride included in the price and when we landed and finally could get off the plane. I was more irritated than ever, my whole head was throbbing. Had to wait 20 minutes for a fucking train to take me to the city but yet again due to blocked routes, follow it up with a solid 20 minute walk in the cold ass weather. I barely get home and am in front of my building a guy starts to hit on me after I helped him with the same issue I had - public transportation. God, I was so not having it but trying to stay polite. When I rejected him he tried to pull the “is it because I am black” card and I was like... OMG REALLY? You wanna pull that shit just because someone you just met and is literally standing at the door of her building refuses to give you her number or expect yours? You are a fucking stranger I just met and I am sorry but hell no. Somehow I managed to actually get into my apartment and I was done. I was done with the whole day and the weekend and just nope.

While I did have one of the best weekends of my entire life it was also one of the worst ones. Even now I am conflicted how I feel. One moment I am happy the next I am sad and I really don’t know. Regardless of it all there is one thing I will say:

Javier Fernandez, thank you for organizing ROI and thank you for giving us the privilege to enjoy your skating, putting on a show that left me shaking and crying (literally... Prometo was emotional for me). Thank you, truly. The whole show and cast, including you were incredible. Gracias. See you next at Europeans! ♥

[raendown]

Alright look, it’s me. If you weren’t expecting smut then you were wrong and you should have been.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3789 Story summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 11

Morning was usually one of Madara’s favorite times of the day. For instance, the morning after Izuna’s party had been particularly nice. Waking up to find that for once Tobirama hadn’t moved them about in their sleep and was still curled up on his chest had been a special delight. Most other mornings were quite similar in pattern, opening his eyes to find the man he loved held in his arms and smiling in his sleep.

Considering the way he was being woken up now, just barely past noon, he may have just found a new favorite.

They hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch. Really Madara didn’t even remember closing his eyes. The last thing he could recall was listening to Tobirama’s voice begin to slur as they discussed something that wasn’t coming to mind right at the moment. Now he was being woken from an impromptu accidental nap by lips trailing along his jawline and a large palm sliding up his chest.

A quiet rumbling laugh came from just above him.

“I know you’re awake,” Tobirama’s voice teased him. Madara huffed and tried not to smile.

“Well I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t decided all on his own that naptime was over.”

“I can think of better things to be doing than napping on the couch.”

Eyes snapping open at the tone that invitation had been spoken in, Madara closed them again only moments later as soft lips finally met with his own. Whatever reply he’d been about to make was choked down in favor of kissing back, nearly melting in to the couch arm his head was resting on. The day he turned this down was the day he had officially gone insane. Tobirama kissed him harder, his tongue darting out to lick Madara’s bottom lip and drink down the whimper he got in response.

With his head already spinning Madara struggled to remember to breathe. The palm resting on his chest slid upwards to drag blunt nails along his clavicle, making him shudder and squirm. He gasped in to Tobirama’s mouth when he felt the younger man crawling up his body, legs settling on either side of his hips so that his partner was sitting astride his lap.

He had hardly dared to dream of this, could barely believe it was happening right now. Really he’d just been expecting a few kisses and nothing more. When the hand scratching near his neck circled around behind his head to set him at a better angle he whimpered again, his own hands finally getting with the program enough to settle on Tobirama’s hips. They didn’t stay still for long though, rubbing up and down his partner’s sides in a gentle caress. He could never get enough of touching this man in any way he could – something he could tell that Tobirama very much did not mind, by the way he purred and kissed him even harder.

Nothing else existed for him at that moment but for the man in his lap. As he often did in the moments when he found himself getting lost in Tobirama, Madara thought absently to himself that he hoped reality never returned. He would be perfectly happy to live out the rest of his life losing himself in Tobirama’s kisses and the way his skin tingled under pale white fingers.

Reality, however, had a way of barging back in and demanding attention in the loudest ways possible. Today is was a loud cry from a mere three feet to the left of his head. Both Madara and Tobirama twitched with shock, pulling apart from each other at lightning speed to whip their heads around and inspect the source of the noise. Kagami looked back at them from where he was sitting in his play pen, lower lip jutting out and dark eyes staring seemingly straight in to their hearts as though to ask why they weren’t paying him any attention.

“Oops.” Madara could feel his face heating up. Poor Kagami! He hoped when the boy got older he wouldn’t remember this. Did babies form memories this young? He didn’t want the boy’s first recollection to be of his father’s kissing on the couch in front of him!

Still perched across his hips, although now he was sitting up straight Tobirama tilted his head, looking slowly between the baby and the man he was on top of.

“I wonder if Aniki would like to babysit,” he mused. Madara swallowed thickly.

“He’s in a conference with the Shimura Clan Head.” Neither of them mentioned how badly his voice was shaking. Tobirama’s eyes locked on to his and he lifted one eyebrow.

“Do you think Izuna is busy?”

“No,” Madara breathed. “I believe he had plans to stay in for the day.”

“Good.”

Tobirama was up off his lap immediately, lifting Kagami out of the play pen while Madara scrambled off the couch and lurched in to the kitchen to grab a prepared bottle, thanking kami they had started the habit of making them ahead of time. When he made it back to the living room Tobirama took his arm and they disappeared from their home with a mere flicker, reappearing outside Izuna’s front door.

Without even knocking the two men let themselves in, both enjoying a quick moment of amusement when they saw their unwitting host leap two feet in the air. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting their intrusion right in the middle of whatever he’d been working on. It looked suspiciously like he was making some sort of art craft at the table. Whatever it was it wasn’t important at the moment.

“We need you to babysit,” Madara announced gruffly as Tobirama all but shoved Kagami in to Izuna’s arms.

“Uh…”

“It’s important,” Tobirama assured him. Madara nodded from where he was flinging the bottle inside the fridge, not looking where it landed and not caring in the slightest.

“Wait…” Izuna held Kagami in front of himself a little awkwardly, supporting him under the arms as he watched the other two men head for the door again. “What’s going on?”

“Important!” Madara shouted back as he hurried out. Tobirama gave an impertinent little wave and then they were flickering back to their own home, this time alone.

They arrived in their bedroom and Madara had less than a second to bite his lip and bolster his confidence before Tobirama took his mouth in a kiss that sent fire straight down his spine. Had he ever mentioned that this man knew just how to kiss him? Because he did. He knew just how to make Madara’s toes curl up in pleasure with nothing but lips and tongue.

His tongue certainly came in to play now as the younger man licked his way in to Madara’s mouth, arms circling his neck and holding on tight. Their legs entwined as he stepped closer, so close it was nearly impossible to keep balance. Madara’s quiet cry as they tumbled backwards turned in to a breathless puff when Tobirama landed on his chest, laughing at their awkward landing. While he tried to catch his breath Tobirama crawled over him to straddle his lap like he had been before. Only this time Madara could feel something a little different.

“Oh sweet kami,” he whispered, closing his eyes and burying his face in his partner’s neck. Tobirama rotated his hips to grind their erections together, obviously in an attempt to give him a heart attack.

Yet, strangely, his heart pounded harder for the way he heard his name whispered softly in to his ear a moment later and for the simple delight of being able to feel how Tobirama’s heart was matching the skipping rhythm of his own. It was incredible to feel the proof of how he was affecting the other and know that he wasn’t the only one excited by this unexpected turn of events.

Madara wasn’t really sure how his shirt got undone. He knew his love had clever fingers and that he himself was rather distractible but it still surprised him when suddenly there were hands on his bare skin tracing the lines of his abdomen. He shuddered under the touch even as he wormed his own hands between them to untie Tobirama’s obi. If he could touch then Madara could touch too. It was only fair. Of course, his own touches were far more star-struck, almost hesitant as he explored the pale skin he would never admit to fantasizing about.

It became almost a game of reciprocity. Tobirama rewarded his touches by reaching up to trace a thumb across one of his nipples, to which Madara responded by arching his own back and scratching his nails down Tobirama’s back. The younger man ground his hips down a second time and in turn Madara nipped at his bottom lip.

The game could only go on for so much time, however, before one of them reached for the other’s trousers. Madara was almost shaking by the time they were both naked, although whether it was from anticipation, nerves, or excitement was not something he was willing to fess up to. Possibly a combination of all three but that was his own business. Either way he was hardly capable of giving a coherent answer right then even if only asked what his own name was. His entire brain had shut down the moment his better half had pressed their bare skin together.

Quiet choked noises filled what little air was left between them as Madara gathered his courage and rolled them, pressing the other man in to the sheets with his weight and doing his best to leave him as breathless as he so often felt himself.

“Nightstand,” Tobirama gasped out. “Top drawer.”

Madara looked to the side with a slightly baffled look. They were busy. What could he possibly want right then that couldn’t wait for later?

He understood as soon as he leaned over and opened the drawer. A small tube of lubricant rolled forward and presented itself and Madara wondered if it was possible to have heart failure from being too aroused too suddenly. That didn’t stop his hand from snatching up the offering and turning back to fall upon Tobirama with frantic kisses. His partner caught him with a smile and returned the affections with obvious enthusiasm even as he bent his knees and braced his feet on the mattress.

“I’m all yours, tiger,” he said with a confident grin. Madara huffed and scowled, hoping it distracted from the blush glowing on his cheeks.

“I’m not a tiger,” he muttered. His fingers fumbled with the lubricant, trying not to accidentally squirt a massive puddle out on to his hand. Luckily he managed to acquire only a proper amount.

“No? Ah well. I’m still all yours.”

From the way Tobirama was smirking he could tell his partner knew exactly how flustered he was by those words. Madara shut him up by reaching down and stroking across his entrance with slick fingers, spreading the lubricant and preparing the way to press just the tip of a single finger inside. He kept his eyes on Tobirama’s face to gauge his reaction, venturing a little farther in and swallowing harshly for the sensation of how warm and tight he felt inside. Just the thought of sinking in to him properly, being one with the man he loved, had him close to passing out from a mixture of excitement and heart-melting happiness.

Every time he thought he couldn’t possibly be any happier the man beneath him blew straight through his expectations. He’d never been so delighted to be proved wrong.

Madara took his time spreading Tobirama’s entrance open. The last thing he wanted was to hurt the man despite his obvious impatience for the proceedings. His lover bucked and pushed back against his fingers, silently encouraging him to go deeper, faster, and not afraid to show his appreciation with broken gasps and garbled strings of disconnected syllables. It was both fascinating and arousing to watch him and it only made Madara glad that the other didn’t seem to have the concentration to return any touches beyond clutching at his shoulders. He feared he wouldn’t last otherwise.

When he removed his fingers at last and reached over for a little more lubricant his partner fixed him in place with a look hot enough to melt iron.

“Finally,” the younger man whispered. Madara huffed.

“Well excuse me for caring about your wellbeing.”

“I’m hardly going to break if you get a little rough.” That Tobirama managed to have the wherewithal to wink at him boggled Madara a little.

He still shivered at the implications of that as he grumbled, “You deserve nice things.” He certainly didn’t expect Tobirama to pull him down and whisper intimately in his ear.

“I would consider it nice to have you inside me now.”

Madara needed little more convincing than that. The undoubtedly embarrassing noise clawing its way up his throat was bitten back as his hands tucked underneath Tobirama’s knees and lifted them to wind around his hips. His lover arched and caught his gaze, unwilling to let him go. He couldn’t have looked away if he tried but didn’t truly mind; he didn’t really want to anyway.

Pressing in to Tobirama felt a lot like coming home, like finding something he hadn’t known was missing from his life until he found it. The immediate sense of I belong here was so overwhelming he tried to close his eyes – but couldn’t. The red gaze below him held him captive still, watching his every reaction and in return allowing him a glimpse in to their own depths. It was easy to see Tobirama felt the same, though that didn’t help at all with his inability to reign in his racing heart.

Though it took him a moment to gather his strength Madara did manage to pull away, rocking his hips back until only the head of him remained inside and then quickly sinking back in when the thought of leaving entirely was too abhorrent to even consider.

Sex as Madara had known it in the past was a perfunctory thing, a momentary distraction over with as quickly as possible and indulged in only to satisfy a temporary need. This was different. With Tobirama it wasn’t just sex, it was making love. Until now he’d thought the difference between the two existed only in romance novel clichés but that was before he’d fallen hopelessly in love.  Now everything was different, some in obvious ways and others more subtle.

Most obvious was the emotions choking his lungs and burning in his veins. How was it possible for one human to feel so much and not fly to pieces? It was beyond him. Less obvious was the rhythm of his movements. Gone was the frantic rutting of distant fucking. Their hips rolled together in long smooth motions, sliding out only because it was necessary and sinking back in with relief each time, coming home again and again and again until his mind and body prayed together for this moment to last forever. Madara hitched Tobirama’s legs up higher, searching for a deeper angle just to watch him gasp and quake when his prostate was struck.

That sinful noise was the beginning of both their ends. Having found that hidden spot Madara kept his angle and tried to aim for there with every roll of his hips. Within moments he had Tobirama keening and clinging to his arms in desperation, lips parted and eyes finally falling closed as the pleasure built. Honestly Madara was a little surprised he’d lasted this long himself, although he was hardly complaining. Still, just by watching his partner slowly fall to pieces he knew that neither of them had long left.

His lover gasped against him when he leaned down to take his mouth in a searing kiss, trying to say without words everything he was feeling. Even if he could have articulated them properly right then he wouldn’t have known what words to use so he let their bodies communicate for him instead. Tobirama’s hands released his arms only to wrap around his neck and hold him in place.

“Shit don’t stop,” the younger man breathed.

“Hng!” Madara pressed their foreheads together, breathing each other’s air and refusing to allow his hips to slow their rhythm. The next time he managed to strike true he shivered at the sound of his partner’s whimper.

“Madara!” Tobirama’s body was tensing under him and he understood what that meant, even if it still felt like it was happening too soon. “Nn! I lo– ah!”

Feeling the tension gathering at the base of his own spine, Madara could take it no more. The edge was too close for them both and more than anything else he wanted them both to fall over it together. Kami but he wanted to love this man forever, spend the rest of his life earning the same in return. Maybe someday he would have the words to communicate that but for now all he had was the hand that he wriggled in between their bodies to reach down and grasp the neglected erection bobbing against their stomachs.

“Hah!” Tobirama’s arms held him tighter and Madara instinctively added an extra snap in to his hips.

“Hng,” he gurgled out again, throat working feverishly to try and say something, anything. “Tobirama…my Tobirama…”

His partner was obviously having the same trouble, impending orgasm stealing from him the ability to speak. Tobirama curled upward as best he could, pressing their foreheads tighter together as he finally forced out just a few words.

“I love you.”

If exclamation marks had a verbal equivalent, Madara would have shouted it right then. Whatever noise that escape certainly wasn’t any word he had ever heard before but it was loud, desperate, and more perfervid than any sound he had ever made before. Those words, spoken as they were in such heartfelt desperate, hit him like a fist to the gut. His climax hit him before he could stop it, only a single split second before he felt Tobirama clamping down around him as the other man reached his own peak. Their ringing shouts merged together and nearly became one sound which echoed throughout the entire house

However long it took, when Madara came back to himself his entire body was quaking with the force of the orgasm which had just been wrung out of him. Every muscle in his body trembled and it was a miracle he was still managing to support himself over the man below him without collapsing like wet paper. He did allow his shoulders to sag, dropping his head down to rest itself against Tobirama’s collarbone. The scent of sandalwood and sweat filled his senses and he breathed it in with huge gulps in an effort to ground himself to reality. When Tobirama chuckled weakly Madara wondered where he had even found the energy to do so.

Only after a quick mental pep talk was he able to force his shaking arms to lift him back up, grinning in tired surprise when Tobirama managed to sneak in a quick kiss as their faces passed each other. Once he’d managed to sit up he simply held still for a few seconds, caught in Tobirama’s gaze again. Madara looked away with a slightly embarrassed huff, eyes darting back and forth until he spotted his own shirt, still hanging off the edge of the bed within easy reach.

Tobirama shuddered and moaned quietly when Madara pulled away from him, limbs twitching. Then he looked down with one brow quirked curiously when he felt a soft touch at his now leaking entrance.

“I can do that myself, you know,” he pointed out. His voice was still a little breathless and Madara absolutely was not preening over it.

“No I want to.” Madara dabbed gently and made short swipes, making a mental note to wash this shirt himself and not toss it in with the rest of the laundry. “You deserve to rest.”

“Oh I see,” his partner murmured with a smile.

“Shut up.”

Tobirama huffed out a quiet laugh but lay back and let him do as he wished. He was just trying to be solicitous; there was nothing wrong with that! Anyone could see that Tobirama deserved all the best things and gentle touches and to be taken care of. Madara was just doing was he was supposed to do.

Supposed to or not, however, the aftercare sapped away the last of his energy reserves. Madara tossed the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side without looking and peered sleepily down at his lover, eyes half shut and a slack smile hovering on his lips. Tobirama reached up to trace lazy lines along his forearms where they had dropped in to his own lap.

“Another nap, perhaps? Izuna won’t exactly be expecting us back so soon.” When Madara nodded weakly the younger man opened his arms in invitation. “Come here then.”

It was more of a relief than he could have said to collapse back down in to his partner’s arms. Always before it had been him which held the other when they fell asleep together but now for the first time he cuddled himself in to Tobirama’s embrace – and wondered if he would ever find the strength to crawl back out. Warm and comfortable, he felt like he understood now why Tobirama never wanted to get out of bed in the mornings.

Without opening eyes which he didn’t remember closing, Madara tilted his head up and let out a quiet whine until Tobirama graced him with one last kiss. Just because it was the middle of the day didn’t mean he was willing to go to bed without his goodnight kiss. Once he had that he tucked his head back down and buried his face in a pale neck, listening to his lover’s pulse and letting the steady sound of it help him drift away from reality.

He hadn’t planned to fall asleep on the couch, he hadn’t meant for any of these events to happen, but he was happy that they did. None of the private imaginings he had dreamed up had come even close to the reality that was making love to the man holding him and Madara was the very opposite of disappointed. Honestly the past half year of his life had been so far out of plan he could barely keep up from day to day. But as he sank rapidly down in to sleep Madara reflected that each new change had only brought him more happiness. And he was quite okay with that.